,,the ,,germ ,thoughts towards ,nature in ,poetry1 ,literature and ,art ,,being ,a ,,facsimile ,,reprint ,,of ,,the ,,literary ,,organ ,,of ,,the ,,pre-,,raphaelite ,,brotherhood1 ,,published ,,in #ahej ,,with ,,an ,,introduction ,,by ,,william ,,michael ,,rossetti ,,london ,,elliot ,,stock1 #fb1 ,,paternoster ,,row1 ,e4,c4 #aija ,,introduction4 ,of late years it has been my fate or my whim to write a good deal about the early days of the ,praeraphaelite movement1 the members of the ,praeraphaelite ,brotherhood1 and especially my brother ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti1 and my sister ,christina ,georgina ,rossetti4 ,i am now invited to write something further on the subject1 with immediate reference to the ,praeraphaelite magazine ,the ,germ1 republished in this volume4 ,i know of no particular reason why ,i should not do this1 for certain it is that few people living know1 or ever knew1 so much as ,i do about ,the ,germ12 and if some press-critics who regarded previous writings of mine as superfluous or ill-judged should entertain a like opinion now1 in equal or increased measure1 ,i willingly leave them to say so1 while ,i pursue my own course none the less4 ,the ,germ is here my direct theme1 not the ,praeraphaelite ,brotherhood2 but it seems requisite to say in the first instance something about the ,brotherhood--its members1 allies1 and ideas--so as to exhibit a raison d'tre for the magazine4 ,in doing this ,i must necessarily repeat some things which ,i have set forth before1 and which1 from the writings of others as well as myself1 are well enough known to many4 ,i can vary my form of expression1 but cannot introduce much novelty into my statements of fact4 ,in #ahdh the ,british ,school of ,painting was in anything but a vital or a lively condition4 ,one very great and incomparable genius1 ,turner1 belonged to it4 ,he was old and past his executive prime4 ,there were some other highly able men--,etty and ,david ,scott1 then both very near their death2 ,maclise1 ,dyce1 ,cope1 ,mulready1 ,linnell1 ,poole1 ,william ,henry ,hunt1 ,landseer1 ,leslie1 ,watts1 ,cox1 ,j4,f4 ,lewis1 and some others4 ,there were also some distinctly clever men1 such as ,ward1 ,frith1 and ,egg4 ,paton1 ,gilbert1 ,ford ,madox ,brown1 ,mark ,anthony1 had given sufficient indication of their powers1 but were all in an early stage4 ,on the whole the school had sunk very far below what it had been in the days of ,hogarth1 ,reynolds1 ,gainsborough1 and ,blake1 and its ordinary average had come to be something for which commonplace is a laudatory term1 and imbecility a not excessive one4 ,there were in the late summer of #ahdh1 in the ,schools of the ,royal ,academy or barely emergent from them1 four young men to whom this condition of the art seemed offensive1 contemptible1 and even scandalous4 ,their names were ,william ,holman-,hunt1 ,john ,everett ,millais1 and ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti1 painters1 and ,thomas ,woolner1 sculptor4 ,their ages varied from twenty-two to nineteen--,woolner being the eldest1 and ,millais the youngest4 ,being little more than lads1 these young men were naturally not very deep in either the theory or the practice of art3 but they had open eyes and minds1 and could discern that some things were good and other bad--that some things they liked1 and others they hated4 ,they hated the lack of ideas in art1 and the lack of character2 the silliness and vacuity which belong to the one1 the flimsiness and make-believe which result from the other4 ,they hated those forms of execution which are merely smooth and prettyish1 and those which1 pretending to mastery1 are nothing better than slovenly and slapdash1 or what the ,p4,r4,b4's called sloshy4 ,still more did they hate the notion that each artist should not obey his own individual impulse1 act upon his own perception and study of ,nature1 and scrutinize and work at his objective material with assiduity before he could attempt to display and interpret it2 but that1 instead of all this1 he should try to be like somebody else1 imitating some extant style and manner1 and applying the cut-and-dry rules enunciated by ,a from the practice of ,b or ,c4 ,they determined to do the exact contrary4 ,the temper of these striplings1 after some years of the current academic training1 was the temper of rebels3 they meant revolt1 and produced revolution4 ,it would be a mistake to suppose1 because the called themselves ,praeraphaelites1 that they seriously disliked the works produced by ,raphael2 but they disliked the works produced by ,raphael's uninspired satellites1 and were resolved to find out1 by personal study and practice1 what their own several faculties and adaptabilities might be1 without being bound by rules and big-wiggeries founded upon the performance of ,raphael or of any one4 ,they were to have no master except their own powers of mind and hand1 and their own first-hand study of ,nature4 ,their minds were to furnish them with subjects for works of art1 and with the general scheme of treatment2 ,nature was to be their one or their paramount storehouse of materials for objects to be represented2 the study of her was to be deep1 and the representation 7at any rate in the earlier stages of self-discipline and work7 in the highest degree exact2 executive methods were to be learned partly from precept and example1 but most essentially from practice and experiment4 ,as their minds were very different in range and direction1 their products also1 from the first1 differed greatly2 and these soon ceased to have any link of resemblance4 ,the ,praeraphaelite ,brothers entertained a deep respect and a sincere affection for the works of some of the artists who had preceded ,raphael2 and they thought that they should more or less be following the lead of those artists if they themselves were to develop their own individuality1 disregarding school-rules4 ,this was really the sum and substance of their ,praeraphaelitism4 ,it may freely be allowed that1 as they were very young1 and fired by certain ideas impressive to their own spirits1 they unduly ignored some other ideas and theories which have none the less a deal to say for themselves4 ,they contemned some things and some practitioners of art not at all contemptible1 and1 in speech still more than in thought1 they at times wilfully heaped up the scorn4 ,you cannot have a youthful rebel with a faculty who is also a model head-boy in a school4 ,the ,p4,r4,b4 was completed by the accession of three members to the four already mentioned4 ,these were ,james ,collinson1 a domestic painter2 ,frederic ,george ,stephens1 an ,academy-student of painting2 and myself1 a ,government-clerk4 ,these again1 when the ,p4,r4,b4 was formed towards ,september #ahdh1 were all young1 aged respectively about twenty-three1 twenty-one1 and nineteen4 ,this ,praeraphaelite ,brotherhood was the independent creation of ,holman-,hunt1 ,millais1 ,rossetti1 and 7in perhaps a somewhat minor degree7 ,woolner3 it cannot be said that they were prompted or abetted by any one4 ,ruskin1 whose name has been sometimes inaccurately mixed up in the matter1 and who had as yet published only the first two volumes of ,modern ,painters1 was wholly unknown to them personally1 and in his writings was probably known only to ,holman-,hunt4 ,ford ,madox ,brown had been an intimate of ,rossetti since ,march #ahdh1 and he sympathized1 fully as much as any of these younger men1 with some old-world developments of art preceding its ripeness or over-ripeness3 but he had no inclination to join any organization for protest and reform1 and he followed his own course--more influenced1 for four or five years ensuing1 by what the ,p4,r4,b4's were doing than influencing them4 ,among the persons who were most intimate with the members of the ,brotherhood towards the date of its formation1 and onwards till the inception of ,the ,germ1 ,i may mention the following4 ,for ,holman-,hunt1 the sculptor ,john ,lucas ,tupper1 who had been a fellow ,academy-student1 and was now an anatomical designer at ,guy's ,hospital3 he and his family were equally well acquainted with ,mr4 ,stephens4 ,for ,millais1 the painter ,charles ,allston ,collins1 son of the well-known painter of domestic life and coast-scenes ,william ,collins2 the painter ,arthur ,hughes2 also his own brother1 ,william ,henry ,millais1 who had musical aptitudes and became a landscape-painter4 ,for ,rossetti1 ,william ,bell ,scott 7brother of ,david ,scott71 painter1 poet1 and ,master of the ,government ,school of ,design in ,newcastle-on-,tyne2 ,major ,calder ,campbell1 a retired ,officer of the ,indian army1 and a somewhat popular writer of tales1 verses1 etc42 ,alexander ,munro the sculptor2 ,walter ,howell ,deverell1 a young painter1 son of the ,secretary to the ,government ,schools of ,design2 ,james ,hannay1 the novelist1 satirical writer1 and journalist2 and 7known through ,madox ,brown7 ,william ,cave ,thomas1 a painter who had studied in the severe classical school of ,germany1 and had earned a name in the ,westminster ,hall competitions for frescoes in ,parliament4 ,for ,woolner1 ,john ,hancock and ,bernhard ,smith1 sculptors2 ,coventry ,patmore the poet1 with his connections the ,orme family and ,professor ,masson2 also ,william ,north1 an eccentric young literary man1 of much effervescence and some talent1 author of ,anti-,coningsby and other novels4 ,for ,collinson1 the prominent painter of romantic and biblical subjects ,john ,rogers ,herbert1 who was1 like ,collinson himself1 a ,roman ,catholic convert4 ,the ,praeraphaelite ,brotherhood having been founded in ,september #ahdh1 the members exhibited in #ahdi works conceived in the new spirit4 ,these were received by critics and by the public with more than moderate though certainly not unmixed favour3 it had not as yet transpired that there was a league of unquiet and ambitious young spirits1 bent upon making a fresh start of their own1 and a clean sweep of some effete respectabilities4 ,it was not until after the exhibitions were near closing in #ahdi that any idea of bringing out a magazine came to be discussed4 ,the author of the project was ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti4 ,he alone among the ,p4,r4,b4's had already cultivated the art of writing in verse and in prose to some noticeable extent 7,the ,blessed ,damozel had been produced before ,may #ahdg71 and he was better acquainted than any other member with ,british and foreign literature4 ,there need be no self-conceit in saying that in these respects ,i came next to him4 ,holman-,hunt1 ,woolner1 and ,stephens1 were all reading men 7in ,british literature only7 within straiter bounds than ,rossetti3 not any one of them1 ,i think1 had as yet done in writing anything worth mentioning4 ,millais and ,collinson1 more especially the former1 were men of the brush1 not the pen1 yet both of them capable of writing with point1 and even in verse4 ,by ,july #ac and #ad1 #ahdi1 some steps were taken towards discussing the project of a magazine4 ,the price1 as at first proposed1 was to be sixpence2 the title1 ,monthly ,thoughts in ,literature1 ,poetry1 and ,art2 each number was to have an etching4 ,soon afterwards a price of one shilling was decided upon1 and two etchings per number3 but this latter intention was not carried out4#a ,all the ,p4,r4,b4's were to be proprietors of the magazine3 ,i question however whether ,collinson was ever persuaded to assume this responsibility1 entailing payment of an eventual deficit4 ,we were quite ready also to have some other proprietors4 ,mr4 ,herbert was addressed by ,collinson1 and at one time was regarded as pretty safe4 ,mr4 ,hancock the sculptor did not resist the pressure put upon him2 but after all he contributed nothing to ,the ,germ1 either in work or in money4 ,walter ,deverell assented1 and paid when the time came4 ,thus there seem to have been eight1 or else seven1 proprietors--not one of them having any spare cash1 and not all of them much steadiness of interest in the scheme set going by ,dante ,rossetti4 #a ,many of the particulars here given regarding ,the ,germ appear in the so-called ,p4,r4,b4 ,journal1 which was published towards ,december #ahii1 in the volume named ,preraphaelite ,diaries and ,letters1 edited by ,w4,m4 ,rossetti4 ,at the date when ,i wrote the present introduction1 that volume had not been offered for publication4 ,with so many persons having a kind of co-equal right to decide what should be done with the magazine1 it soon became apparent that somebody ought to be appointed ,editor1 and assume the control4 ,i1 during an absence from ,london1 was fixed upon for this purpose by ,woolner and my brother--with the express or tacit assent1 so far as ,i know1 of all the others1 ,i received notice of my new dignity on ,september #bc1 #ahdi1 being just under twenty years of age1 and ,i forthwith applied myself to the task4 ,it had at first been proposed to print upon the prospectus and wrappers of the magazine the words ,conducted by ,artists1 and also 7just about this time7 to entitle it ,the ,p4,r4,b4 ,journal4 ,i called attention to the first of these points as running counter to my assuming the editorship1 and to the second as in itself inappropriate3 both had in fact been already set aside4 ,my brother had ere this been introduced to ,messrs4 ,aylott and ,jones1 publishers in ,paternoster ,row 7principally concerned1 ,i believe1 with books of evangelical religion71 and had entered into terms with them1 and got them to print a prospectus4 ,p4,r4,b4 was at first printed on the latter1 but to this ,mr4 ,holman-,hunt objected in ,november1 and it was omitted4 ,the printers were to be ,messrs4 ,tupper and ,sons1 a firm of lithographic and general printers in the ,city1 the same family to which ,john ,lucas ,tupper belonged4 ,the then title1 invented by my brother1 was ,thoughts towards ,nature1 a phrase which1 though somewhat extra-peculiar1 indicated accurately enough the predominant conception of the ,praeraphaelite ,brotherhood1 that an artist1 whether painter or writer1 ought to be bent upon defining and expressing his own personal thoughts1 and that these ought to be based upon a direct study of ,nature1 and harmonized with her manifestations4 ,it was not until ,december #ai1 when the issue of our ,no4 #a was closely impending1 that a different title1 ,the ,germ1 was proposed4 ,on that evening there was a rather large gathering at ,dante ,rossetti's studio1 #gb ,newman ,street2 the seven ,p4,r4,b4's1 ,madox ,brown1 ,cave ,thomas1 ,deverell1 ,hancock1 and ,john and ,george ,tupper4 ,mr4 ,thomas had drawn up a list of no less than sixty-five possible titles 7a facsimile of his ,,ms4 of some of them appears in the ,letters of ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti to ,william ,allingham1 edited by ,george ,birkbeck ,hill--,unwin1 #ahig74 ,only a few of them met with favour2 and one of them1 ,the ,germ1 going to the vote along with ,the ,seed and ,the ,scroll1 was approved by a vote of six to four4 ,the next best were1 ,i think1 ,the ,harbinger1 ,first ,thoughts1 ,the ,sower1 ,the ,truth-,seeker1 and ,the ,acorn4 ,appended to the new title we retained1 as a sub-title1 something of what had been previously proposed2 and the serial appeared as ,the ,germ4 ,thoughts towards ,nature in ,poetry1 ,literature1 and ,art4 ,at this same meeting ,mr4 ,woolner suggested that authors' names should not be published in the magazine4 ,i alone opposed him1 and his motion was carried4 ,i cannot at this distance of time remember with any precision what his reasons were2 but ,i think that he1 and all the other artists concerned1 entertained a general feeling that to appear publicly as writers1 and especially as writers opposing the ordinary current of opinions on fine art1 would damage their professional position1 which already involved uphill work more than enough4 ,the ,germ1 ,no4 #a1 came out on or about ,january #a1 #ahej4 ,the number of copies printed was #gjj4 ,something like #bjj were sold1 in about equal proportions by the publishers1 and by ourselves among acquaintances and well-wishers4 ,this was not encouraging1 so we reduced the issue of ,no4 #b to #ejj copies4 ,it sold less well than ,no4 #a4 ,with this number was introduced the change of printing on the wrapper the names of most of the contributors3 not of all1 for some still preferred to remain unnamed1 or to figure under a fancy designation4 ,had we been left to our own resources1 we must now have dropped the magazine4 ,but the printing-firm--or ,mr4 ,george ,i4,f4 ,tupper as representing it--came forward1 and undertook to try the chance of two numbers more4 ,the title was altered 7at ,mr4 ,alexander ,tupper's suggestion7 to ,art and ,poetry1 being ,thoughts towards ,nature1 conducted principally by ,artists2 and ,messrs4 ,dickinson and ,co41 of ,new ,bond ,street1 the printsellers1 consented to join their name as publishers to that of ,messrs4 ,aylott and ,jones4 ,mr4 ,robert ,dickinson1 the head of this firm1 and more especially his brother1 the able portrait-painter ,mr4 ,lowes ,dickinson1 were well known to ,madox ,brown1 and through him to members of the ,p4,r4,b4 ,i continued to be editor2 but1 as the money stake of myself and my colleagues in the publication had now ceased1 ,i naturally accommodated myself more than before to any wish evinced by the ,tupper family4 ,no4 #c1 which ought to have appeared ,march #a1 was delayed by these uncertainties and changes till ,march #ca4 ,no4 #d came out on ,april #cj4 ,some small amount of advertising was done1 more particularly by posters carried about in front of the ,royal ,academy 7then in ,trafalgar ,square71 which opened at the beginning of ,may4 ,all efforts proved useless4 ,people would not buy ,the ,germ1 and would scarcely consent to know of its existence4 ,so the magazine breathed its last1 and its obsequies were conducted in the strictest privacy4 ,its debts exceeded its assets1 and a sum of #cc odd1 due on ,nos4 #a and #b1 had to be cleared off by the seven 7or eight7 proprietors1 conscientious against the grain4 ,what may have been the loss of ,messrs4 ,tupper on ,nos4 #c and #d ,i am unable to say4 ,it is hardly worth specifying that neither the editor1 nor any of the contributors whether literary or artistic1 received any sort of payment4 ,this was foreseen from the first as being in the bond1 and was no grievance to anybody4 ,the ,germ1 as we have seen1 was a most decided failure1 yet it would be a mistake to suppose that it excited no amount of literary attention whatsoever4 ,there were laudatory notices in ,the ,dispatch1 ,the ,guardian1 ,howitt's ,standard of ,freedom1 ,john ,bull1 ,the ,critic1 ,bell's ,weekly ,messenger1 ,the ,morning ,chronicle1 and ,i dare say some other papers4 ,a pat on the back1 with a very lukewarm hand1 was bestowed by ,the ,art ,journal4 ,there were notices also--not eulogistic--in ,the ,spectator and elsewhere4 ,the editor of ,the ,critic1 ,mr4 7afterwards ,serjeant7 ,cox1 on the faith of doings in ,the ,germ1 invited me1 or some other of the art-writers there1 to undertake the fine-art department--picture-exhibitions1 etc4--of his weekly review4 ,this ,i did for a short time1 and1 on getting transferred to ,the ,spectator1 ,i was succeeded on ,the ,critic by ,mr4 ,f4,g4 ,stephens4 ,i also received some letters consequent upon ,the ,germ1 and made some acquaintances among authors2 ,horne1 ,clough1 ,heraud1 ,westland ,marston1 also ,miss ,glyn the actress4 ,i as editor came in for this2 but of course the attractiveness of ,the ,germ depended upon the writings of others1 chiefly ,messrs4 ,woolner1 ,patmore1 and ,orchard1 my sister1 and above all my brother1 and1 among the artist-etchers1 ,mr4 ,holman-,hunt4 ,i happen to be still in possession of the notices which appeared in ,the ,critic1 ,bell's ,weekly ,messenger1 and ,the ,guardian1 and of extracts 7as given in our present facsimile7 from those in ,john ,bull1 ,the ,morning ,chronicle1 and ,the ,standard of ,freedom3 ,i here reproduce the first three for the curious reader's perusal4 ,first comes the review which appeared in ,the ,critic on ,february #ae1 #ahej1 followed by a second review on ,june #a4 ,the former was 7as shown by the initials7 written by ,mr4 ,cox1 and ,i presume the latter also4 ,major ,calder ,campbell must have called the particular attention of ,mr4 ,cox to ,the ,germ4 ,my own first personal acquaintance with this gentleman may have been intermediate between #ae ,february and #a ,june4 ,the ,germ4 ,thoughts towards ,nature in ,poetry1 ,literature1 and ,art4 ,nos4 ,i4 and ,,ii4 ,london3 ,aylott and ,jones4 ,we depart from our usual plan of noticing the periodicals under one heading1 for the purpose of introducing to our readers a new aspirant for public favour1 which has peculiar and uncommon claims to attention1 for in design and execution it differs from all other periodicals4 ,the ,germ is the somewhat affected and unpromising title give to a small monthly journal1 which is devoted almost entirely to poetry and art1 and is the production of a party of young persons4 ,this statement is of itself1 as we are well aware1 enough to cause it to be looked upon with shyness4 ,a periodical largely occupied with poetry wears an unpromising aspect to readers who have learned from experience what nonsensical stuff most fugitive magazine-poetry is2 nor is this natural prejudice diminished by the knowledge that it is the production of young gentlemen and ladies4 ,but1 when they have read a few extracts which we propose to make1 we think they will own that for once appearances are deceitful1 and that an affected title and an unpromising theme really hides a great deal of genius2 mingled however1 we must also admit1 with many conceits which youth is prone to1 but which time and experience will assuredly tame4 ,that the contents of ,the ,germ are the production of no common minds the following extracts will sufficiently prove1 and we may add that these are but a small portion of the contents which might prefer equal claims to applause4 ,my ,beautiful ,lady1 and ,of my ,lady in ,death1 are two poems in a quaint metre1 full of true poetry1 marred by not a few affectations--the genuine metal1 but wanting to be purified from its dross4 ,nevertheless1 it is pleasant to find the precious ore anywhere in these unpoetical times4 ,to our taste the following is replete with poetry4 ,what a picture it is6 ,a poet's tongue has told what an artist's eye has seen4 ,it is the first of a series to be entitled ,songs of ,one ,household4 ,here comes ,dante ,rossetti's poem1 ,my ,sister's ,sleep1 followed by ,patmore's ,seasons1 and ,christina ,rossetti's ,testimony4 ,we have not space to take any specimens of the prose1 but the essays on art are conceived with an equal appreciation of its meaning and requirements4 ,being such1 ,the ,germ has our heartiest wishes for its success2 but we scarcely dare to hope that it may win the popularity it deserves4 ,the truth is that it is too good for the time4 ,it is not material enough for the age4 ,art and ,poetry3 being ,thoughts towards ,nature4 ,conducted principally by ,artists4 ,nos4 #c and #d4 ,london3 ,dickinson and ,co4 ,some time since we had occasion to direct the attention of our readers to a periodical then just issued under the modest title of ,the ,germ4 ,the surprise and pleasure with which we read it was1 as we are informed1 very generally shared by our readers upon perusing the poems we extracted from it2 and it was manifest to every person of the slightest taste that the contributors were possessed of genius of a very high order1 and that ,the ,germ was not wantonly so entitled1 for it abounded with the promise of a rich harvest to be anticipated from the maturity of those whose youth could accomplish so much4 ,but we expressed also our fear lest the very excellence of this magazine should be fatal to its success4 ,it was too good--that is to say1 too refined and of too lofty a class1 both in its art and in its poetry--to be sufficiently popular to pay even the printer's bill4 ,the name1 too1 was against it1 being somewhat unintelligible to the thoughtless1 and conveying to the considerate a notion of something very juvenile4 ,those fears were not unfounded1 for it was suspended for a short time2 but other journals after a while discovered and proclaimed the merit that was scattered profusely over the pages of ,the ,germ1 and1 thus encouraged1 the enterprise has been resumed1 with a change of name which we must regard as an improvement4 ,art and ,poetry precisely describes its character4 ,it is wholly devoted to them1 and it aims at originality in both4 ,it is seeking out for itself new paths1 in a spirit of earnestness1 and with an undoubted ability which must lead to a new era4 ,the writers may err somewhat at first1 show themselves too defiant of prescriptive rules1 and mistake extravagance for originality2 but this fault 7inherent in youth when1 conscious of its powers1 it first sets up for itself7 will after a while work its own cure1 and with experience will come soberer action4 ,but we cannot contemplate this young and rising school in art and literature without the most ardent anticipations of something great to grow from it1 something new and worthy of our age1 and we bid them ,god speed upon the path they have adventured4 ,but our more immediate purpose here is with the poetry1 of which about one-half of each number is composed4 ,it is all beautiful1 must of it of extraordinary merit1 and equal to anything that any of our known poets could write1 save ,tennyson1 of whom the strains sometimes remind us1 although they are not imitations in any sense of the word4 ,the ,reviewer next proceeds to quote1 with a few words of comment1 ,christina ,rossetti's ,sweet ,death1 ,john ,tupper's ,viola and ,olivia1 ,orchard's ,whit-,sunday ,morn1 and 7later on7 ,dante ,rossetti's ,pax ,vobis4 ,almost one half of the ,april number is occupied with a ,dialogue on ,art1 the composition of an ,artist whose works are well known to the public4 ,it was written during a period of ill health1 which forbad the use of the brush1 and1 taking his pen1 he has given to the world his thoughts upon art in a paper which the ,edinburgh ,review in its best days might have been proud to possess4 ,sure we are that not one of our readers will regret the length at which we have noticed this work4 99 99 99 99 99 99 99 ,the short and unpretending critique which ,i add from ,bell's ,weekly ,messenger was written1 ,i believe1 either by or at the instance of ,mr4 ,bellamy1 a gentleman who acted as secretary to the ,national ,club4 ,his son addressed me as editor of ,the ,germ1 in terms of great ardour1 and through the son ,i on one occasion saw the father as well4 ,art and ,poetry4 ,nos4 ,i41 ,,ii41 and ,,iii4 ,london1 ,dickinson and ,co4 ,the present numbers are the commencement of a very useful publication1 conducted principally by artists1 the design of which is to express thoughts towards ,nature4 ,we see much to commend in its pages1 which are also nicely illustrated in the mediaeval style of art and in outline4 ,the paper upon ,shakespeare's tragedy of ,macbeth1 in the third number1 abounds with striking passages1 and will be found to be well worthy of consideration4 99 99 99 99 99 99 99 ,i now proceed to ,the ,guardian4 ,the notice came out on ,august #bj1 #ahej1 some months after ,the ,germ had expired4 ,i do not now know who wrote it1 and 7so far as memory serves me7 ,i never did know4 ,the writer truly said that ,millais contributes nothing to the magazine4 ,this however was not ,millais's fault1 for he made an etching for a prose story by my brother 7named ,an ,autopsychology1 or now ,st4 ,agnes of ,intercession72 and this etching1 along with the story1 had been expected to appear in a ,no4 #e of ,the ,germ which never came out4 ,the very curious but very striking picture by ,rossetti was the ,annunciation1 now in the ,national ,british ,gallery4 ,art and ,poetry4 ,being ,thoughts towards ,nature4 ,conducted principally by ,artists4 ,dickinson and ,co41 and ,aylott and ,jones4 ,we are very sorry to find that1 after a short life of four monthly numbers1 this magazine is not likely to be continued4 ,independently of the great ability displayed by some of its contributors1 we have been anxious to see the rising school of young and clever artists find a voice1 and tell us what they are aiming at1 and how they propose to reach their aim4 ,this magazine was to a great extent connected with the ,pre-,raffaelle ,brethren1 whose paintings have attracted this year a more than ordinary quantity of attention1 and an amount of praise and blame perhaps equally extravagant4 ,as might have been expected1 the school has been identified with its cleverest manipulator1 ,mr4 ,millais1 and his merits or defects have been made the measure of the admiration or contempt bestowed by the public upon those whom it chooses to class with him4 ,this is not matter of complaint1 but it is a mistake4 ,as far as these papers enable us to judge1 ,mr4 ,millais is by no means the leading mind among his fraternity2 and judged by the principles of some clever and beautiful papers upon art in the magazine before us1 his pictures would be described by them as wanting in some of the very highest artistic qualities1 although possessing many which entitle them to attention and respect4 ,the chief contributors to this magazine 7to which ,mr4 ,millais contributes nothing7 are other artists1 as yet not greatly known1 but with feeling and purpose about them such as must make them remarkable in time4 ,some of the best papers are by two brothers named ,rossetti1 one of whom1 ,mr4 ,d4 ,g4 ,rossetti1 has a very curious but very striking picture now exhibiting in the ,portland ,gallery4 ,mr4 ,deverell1 who has also a very clever picture in the same gallery1 contributes some beautiful poetry4 ,it is perhaps chiefly in the poetry that the abilities of these writers are displayed2 for1 with somewhat absurd and much that is affected1 there is yet in the poetical pieces of these four numbers a beauty and grace of language and sentiment1 and not seldom a vigour of conception1 altogether above the common run4 ,want of purpose may be easily charged against them as a fault1 and with some justice1 but it is a very common defect of youthful poetry1 which is sure to disappear with time if there be anything real and manly in the poet4 ,the best pieces are too long to extracted in entire1 and are not to be judged of fairly except as wholes4 ,there is a very fine poem called ,repining of which this is particularly true4 ,next comes a quotation of ,christina ,rossetti's ,dream ,land1 and of a portion of ,dante ,rossetti's ,blessed ,damozel4 ,the last number contains a remarkable dialogue on ,art1 written by a young man1 ,john ,orchard1 who has since died4 ,it is well worth study4 ,kalon1 ,kosmon1 ,sophon1 and ,christian1 whose names1 of course1 represent the opinions they defend1 discuss a number of subjects connected with the arts4 ,each character is well supported1 and the wisdom and candour of the whole piece is very striking1 especially when we consider the youth and inexperience of the writer4 ,art lost a true and high-minded votary in ,mr4 ,orchard4 ,a rather long extract from the ,dialogue follows here4 ,it is a pity that the publication is to stop4 ,english artists have hitherto worked each one by himself1 with too little of common purpose1 too little of mutual support1 too little of distinct and steadily pursued intellectual object4 ,we do not believe that they are one whit more jealous than the followers of other professions4 ,but they are less forced to be together1 and the little jealousies which deform the natures of us all have in their case1 for this reason1 freer scope1 and tend more to isolation4 ,here1 at last1 we have a school1 ignorant it may be1 conceited possibly1 as yet with but vague and unrealised objects1 but working together with a common purpose1 according to certain admitted principles1 and looking to one another for help and sympathy4 ,this is new in ,england1 and we are very anxious it should have a fair trial4 ,its aim1 moreover1 however imperfectly attained as yet1 is high and pure4 ,no one can walk along our streets and not see how debased and sensual our tastes have become4 ,the saying of ,burke 7so unworthy of a great man71 that vice loses half its evil by losing all its grossness1 is practically acted upon1 and voluptuous and seductive figures1 recommended only by a soft effeminacy1 swarm our shop-windows and defile our drawing-rooms4 ,it is impossible to over-state the extent to which they minister to1 and increase the foul sins of1 a corrupt and luxurious age4 ,a school of artists who attempt to bring back the popular taste to the severe draperies and pure forms of early art are at least deserving of encouragement4 ,success in their attempt would be a national blessing4 99 99 99 99 99 99 99 ,shrivelling in the ,spring of #ahej1 ,the ,germ showed no further sign of sprouting for many years1 though ,i suppose it may have been known to the promoters of ,the ,oxford and ,cambridge ,magazine1 produced in #ahef1 and may have furnished some incitement towards that enterprise--again an unsuccessful one commercially4 ,gradually some people began to take a little interest in the knowledge that such a publication had existed1 and to inquire after stray copies here and there4 ,this may perhaps have commenced before #ahgj1 or at any rate shortly afterwards1 as in that year the ,poems of ,dante ,rossetti were brought out1 exciting a great amount of attention and admiration1 and curiosity attached to anything that he might have published before4 ,one heard of such prices as ten shillings for a set of the ,the ,germ1 then #b1 #aj1 #cj1 etc41 and in #ahii a copy handsomely bound by ,cobden-,saunderson was sold in ,america for about #ajd4 ,will that high-water mark ever be exceeded8 ,for the sake of common-sense1 let us hope not4 ,i will now go through the articles in ,the ,germ one by one4 ,wherever any of them may seem to invite a few words of explanation ,i offer such to the reader2 and ,i give the names of the authors1 when not named in the magazine itself4 ,those articles which do not call for any particular comment receive none here4 ,on the wrapper of each number is to be found a sonnet1 printed in a rather aggressively ,gothic type1 beginning1 ,when whoso merely hath a little thought4 ,this sonnet is my performance2 it had been suggested that one or other of the proprietors of the magazine should write a sonnet to express the spirit in which the publication was undertaken4 ,i wrote the one here in question1 which met with general acceptance2 and ,i do not remember that any one else competed4 ,this sonnet may not be a good one1 but ,i do not see why it should be considered unintelligible4 ,mr4 ,bell ,scott1 in his ,autobiographical ,notes1 expressed the opinion that to master the production would almost need a ,browning ,society's united intellects4 ,and he then gave his interpretation1 differing not essentially from my own4 ,what ,i meant is this3 ,a writer ought to think out his subject honestly and personally1 not imitatively1 and ought to express it with directness and precision2 if he does this1 we should respect his performance as truthful1 even though it may not be important4 ,this indicated1 for writers1 much the same principle which the ,p4,r4,b4 professed for painters1--individual genuineness in the thought1 reproductive genuineness in the presentment4 ,by ,thomas ,woolner3 ,my ,beautiful ,lady1 and ,of ,my ,lady in ,death4 ,these compositions were1 ,i think1 nearly the first attempts which ,mr4 ,woolner made in verse2 any earlier endeavours must have been few and slight4 ,the author's long poem ,my ,beautiful ,lady1 published in #ahfc1 started from these beginnings4 ,coventry ,patmore1 on hearing the poems in ,september #ahdi1 was considerably impressed by them3 the only defect he found 7as notified in a letter from ,dante ,rossetti7 being that they were a trifle too much in earnest in the passionate parts1 and too sculpturesque generally4 ,he means by this that each stanza stands too much alone1 and has its own ideas too much to itself4 ,by ,ford ,madox ,brown3 ,the ,love of ,beauty3 ,sonnet4 ,by ,john ,l4 ,tupper3 ,the ,subject in ,art4 ,two papers1 which do not complete the important thesis here undertaken4 ,mr4 ,tupper was1 for an artist1 a man of unusually scientific mind2 yet he was not1 ,i think1 distinguished by that power of orderly and progressive exposition which befits an argumentation4 ,these papers exhibit a good deal of thought1 and state several truths which1 even if partial truths1 are not the less deserving of attention2 but the dissertation does not produce a very clear impression1 inasmuch as there is too great a readiness to plunge1 in medias res1 checked by too great a tendency to harking back1 and re-stating some conclusion in modified terms and with insecure corollaries4 ,two points which ,mr4 ,tupper chiefly insists upon are3 7#a7 that the subject in a work of art affects the beholder in the same sort of way as the same subject1 occurring as a fact or aspect of ,nature1 affects him2 and thus whatever in ,nature excites the mental and moral emotion of man is a right subject for fine art2 and 7#b71 that subjects of our own day should not be discarded in favour of those of a past time4 ,these principles1 along with others bearing in the same direction1 underlie the propositions lately advanced by ,count ,leo ,tolstoy in his most interesting and valuable 7though ,i think one-sided7 book entitled ,what is ,art8--and the like may be said of the principles announced in the ,hand and ,soul of ,dante ,rossetti1 and in the ,dialogue on ,art by ,john ,orchard1 through the mouths of two of the speakers1 ,christian and ,sophon4 ,i have once or twice seen these papers by ,mr4 ,tupper commented upon to the effect that he wholly ignores the question of art-merit in a work of art1 the question whether it is good or bad in form1 colour1 etc4 ,but this is a mistake1 for in fact he allows that this is a relevant consideration1 but declines to bring it within his own lines of discussion4 ,there is also a curious passage which has been remarked upon as next door to absurd2 that where1 in treating of various forms of still life as inferior subjects for art1 he says that the dead pheasant in a picture will always be as 'food1' while the same at the poulterer's will be but a dead pheasant4 ,i do not perceive that this is really absurd4 ,at the poulterer's 7and ,mr4 ,tupper has proceeded to say as much in his article7 all the items are in fact food1 and therefore the spectator attends to the differences between them2 one being a pheasant1 one a fowl1 one a rabbit1 etc4 ,but1 in a varied collection of pictures1 most of the works representing some subject quite unconnected with food2 and1 if you see among them one1 such as a dead pheasant1 representing an article of food1 that is the point which primarily occurs to your mind as distinguishing this particular picture from the others4 ,the views expressed by ,mr4 ,tupper in these two papers should be regarded as his own1 and not by any means necessarily those upheld by the ,praeraphaelite ,brotherhood4 ,the members of this body must however have agreed with several of his utterances1 and sympathized with others1 apart from strict agreement4 ,by ,patmore3 ,the ,seasons4 ,this choice little poem was volunteered to ,the ,germ in ,september1 after the author had read our prospectus1 which impressed him favourably4 ,he withheld his name1 much to our disappointment1 having resolved to do so in all instances where something of his might be published pending the issue of a new volume4 ,by ,christina ,rossetti3 ,dream ,land4 ,though my sister was only just nineteen when this remarkable lyric was printed1 she had already made some slight appearance in published type 7not to speak of the privately printed ,verses of #ahdg71 as two small poems of hers had been inserted in ,the ,athenaeum in ,october #ahdh4 ,dream ,land was written in ,april #ahdi1 before ,the ,germ was thought of2 and it may be as well to say that all my sister's contributions to this magazine were produced without any reference to publication in that or in any particular form4 ,by ,dante ,g4 ,rossetti3 ,my ,sister's ,sleep4 ,this purports to be ,no4 #a of ,songs of ,one ,household4 ,i do not much think that ,dante ,rossetti ever wrote any other poem which would have been proper to such a series4 ,my ,sister's ,sleep was composed very soon after he emerged from a merely juvenile stage of work4 ,i believe that it dates before ,the ,blessed ,damozel1 and therefore before ,may #ahdg4 ,it is not founded upon any actual event affecting the ,rossetti family1 nor any family of our acquaintance4 ,as ,i have said in my ,memoir of my brother 7#ahie71 the poem was shown1 perhaps early in #ahdh1 by ,major ,calder ,campbell to the editress of the ,belle ,assemble1 who heartily admired it1 but1 for one reason or another1 did not publish it4 ,this composition is somewhat noticeable on more grounds than one2 not least as being in a metre which was not much in use until it became famous in ,tennyson's ,in ,memoriam1 published in #ahej1 and of course totally unknown to ,rossetti when he wrote ,my ,sister's ,sleep4 ,in later years my brother viewed this early work with some distaste1 and he only reluctantly reprinted it in his ,poems1 #ahgj4 ,he then wholly omitted the four stanzas #g1 #h1 #ab1 #ac1 beginning3 ,silence was speaking1 ,i said1 full knowledge1 ,she stood a moment1 ,almost unwittingly2 and he made some other verbal alterations4#b ,it will be observed that this poem was written long before the ,praeraphaelite movement began4 ,none the less it shows in an eminent degree one of the influences which guided that movement3 the intimate intertexture of a spiritual sense with a material form2 small actualities made vocal of lofty meanings4 #b ,i may call attention to ,stanza #af1 ,she stooped an instant4 ,the word is stooped in ,the ,germ1 and in the ,poems of #ahgj4 ,this is undoubtedly correct2 but in my brother's re-issue of the ,poems1 #ahha1 the word got mis-printed stopped2 and ,i find the same mis-print in subsequent editions4 ,by ,dante ,g4 ,rossetti3 ,hand and ,soul4 ,this tale was1 ,i think1 written with an express view to its appearing in ,no4 #a of our magazine1 and ,rossetti began making for it an etching1 which1 though not ready for ,no4 #a1 was intended to appear in some number later than the second4 ,he drew it in ,march #ahej2 but1 being disgusted with the performance1 he scratched the plate over1 and tore up the prints4 ,the design showed ,chiaro dell' ,erma in the act of painting his embodied ,soul4 ,though the form of this tale is that of romantic metaphor1 its substance is a very serious manifesto of art-dogma4 ,it amounts to saying1 ,the only satisfactory works of art are those which exhibit the very soul of the artist4 ,to work for fame or self-display is a failure1 and to work for direct moral proselytizing is a failure2 but to paint that which your own perceptions and emotions urge you to paint promises to be a success for yourself1 and hence a benefit to the mass of beholders4 ,this was the core of the ,praeraphaelite creed2 with the adjunct 7which hardly came within the scope of ,rossetti's tale1 and yet may be partly traced there7 that the artist cannot attain to adequate self-expression save through a stern study and realization of natural appearances4 ,and it may be said that to this core of the ,praeraphaelite creed ,rossetti always adhered throughout his life1 greatly different though his later works are from his earlier ones in the externals of artistic style4 ,most of ,hand and ,soul was written on ,december #ba1 #ahdi1 day and night1 chiefly in some five hours beginning after midnight4 ,three currents of thought may be traced in this story3 7#a7 ,a certain amount of knowledge regarding the beginnings of ,italian art1 mingled with some ignorance1 voluntary or involuntary1 of what was possible to be done in the middle of the thirteenth century2 7#b7 a highly ideal1 yet individual1 general treatment of the narrative2 and 7#c7 a curious aptitude at detailing figments as if they were facts4 ,all about ,chiaro dell' ,erma himself1 ,dresden and ,dr4 ,aemmster1 ,d',agincourt1 pictures at the ,pitti ,gallery1 the author's visit to ,florence in #ahdg1 etc41 are pure inventions or mystifications2 but so realistically put that they have in various instances been relied upon and cited as truths4 ,i gave some details as to this in my ,memoir of ,dante ,rossetti4 ,the style of writing in ,hand and ,soul is of a very exceptional kind4 ,my brother had at that time a great affection for ,stories after ,nature1 written by ,charles ,wells 7author of ,joseph and his ,brethren71 and these he kept in view to some extent as a model1 though the direct resemblance is faint indeed4 ,in the conversation of foreign art-students1 forming the epilogue1 he may have been not wholly oblivious of the scene in ,browning's ,pippa ,passes 7a prime favourite of his71 where some foreign students of painting and sculpture are preparing a disagreeable surprise for the ,french sculptor ,jules4 ,there is1 however1 no sort of imitation2 and ,rossetti's dialogue is the more markedly natural of the two4 ,in re-reading ,hand and ,soul1 ,i am struck by two passages which came true of ,rossetti himself in after-life3 7#a7 ,sometimes after nightfall he would walk abroad in the most solitary places he could find--hardly feeling the ground under him because of the thoughts of the day which held him in fever4 7#b7 ,often he would remain at work through the whole of a day1 not resting once so long as the light lasted4 ,when ,rossetti1 in #ahfi1 was collecting his poems1 and getting them privately printed with a view to after-publication1 he thought of including ,hand and ,soul in the same volume1 but did not eventually do so4 ,the privately-printed copy forms a small pamphlet1 which has sometimes been sold at high prices--,i believe #aj and upwards4 ,at this time ,i pointed out to him that the church at ,pisa which he named ,san ,rocco could not possibly have borne that name--,san ,rocco being a historical character who lived at a later date3 the ,church was then re-named ,san ,petronio1 and this ,i believe is the only change of the least importance introduced into the reprint4 ,in ,december #ahgj the tale was published in ,the ,fortnightly ,review4 ,the ,rev4 ,alfred ,gurney 7deceased not long ago7 was a great admirer of ,dante ,rossetti's works4 ,he published in #ahhc a brochure named ,a ,dream of ,fair ,women1 a ,study of some ,pictures by ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti2 he also published an essay on ,hand and ,soul1 giving a more directly religious interpretation to the story than its author had at all intended4 ,it is entitled ,a ,painter's ,day-dream4 ,by ,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti3 ,review of ,clough's ,bothie of ,toper-na-fuosich4 ,the only remark which ,i need to make on this somewhat ponderous article is that ,i1 as ,editor of ,the ,germ1 was more or less expected to do the sort of work for which other proprietors had little inclination--such especially as the regular reviewing of new poems4 ,by ,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti3 ,her ,first ,season3 ,sonnet4 ,as ,i have said elsewhere1 my brother and ,i were at one time greatly addicted to writing sonnets together to bouts-rims3 the date may have been chiefly #ahdh1 and the practice had1 ,i think1 quite ceased for some little while before ,the ,germ commenced in #ahej4 ,this sonnet was one of my bouts-rims performances4 ,i ought to have been more chary than ,i was of introducing into our seriously-intended magazine such hap-hazard things as bouts-rims poems3 one reason for doing so was that we were often at a loss for something to fill a spare page4 ,by ,john ,l4 ,tupper3 ,a ,sketch from ,nature4 ,the locality indicated in these very spirited descriptive lines is given as ,sydenham ,wood4 ,when ,i was compiling the posthumous volume of ,john ,tupper's ,poems which came out in #ahig1 ,i should1 so far as merit is concerned1 have wished to include this little piece3 it was omitted solely on the ground of its being already published4 ,by ,christina ,rossetti3 ,an ,end4 ,written in ,march #ahdi4 ,by ,collinson3 ,the ,child ,jesus1 a ,record ,typical of the ,five ,sorrowful ,mysteries4 ,collinson1 as ,i have already said1 was hardly a writing man1 and ,i question whether he had produced a line of verse prior to undertaking this by no means trivial task4 ,the poem1 like the etching which he did for it1 is deficient in native strength1 nor is there much invention in the symbolical incidents which make it up3 but its general level1 and several of its lines and passages1 always appeared to me1 and still appear1 highly laudable1 and far better than could have been reckoned for4 ,here and there a telling line was supplied by ,dante ,rossetti4 ,millais1 when shortly afterwards in ,oxford1 found that the poem had made some sensation there4 ,it is singular that ,collinson should1 throughout his composition1 speak of ,nazareth as being on the sea-shore--which is the reverse of the fact4 ,the ,praeraphaelites1 with all their love of exact truth to nature1 were a little arbitrary in applying the principle2 and ,collinson seems to have regarded it as quite superfluous to look into a map1 and see whether ,nazareth was near the sea or not4 ,or possibly he trusted to ,dante ,rossetti's poem ,ave1 in which likewise ,nazareth is a marine town4 ,my brother advisedly stuck to this in #ahfi1 when ,i pointed out the error to him3 he replied1 ,i fear the sea must remain at ,nazareth3 you know an old painter would have made no bones if he wanted it for his background4 ,i cannot say whether ,collinson1 if put to it1 would have pleaded the like arbitrary and almost burlesque excuse3 at any rate he made the blunder1 and in a much more detailed shape than in ,rossetti's lyric4 ,the ,child ,jesus is1 ,i think1 the poem of any importance that he ever wrote4 ,by ,christina ,rossetti3 ,a ,pause of ,thought4 ,on the wrapper of ,the ,germ the writer's name is given as ,ellen ,alleyn3 this was my brother's concoction1 as ,christina did not care to figure under her own name4 ,a ,pause of ,thought was written in ,february #ahdh1 when she was but little turned of seventeen4 ,taken as a personal utterance 7which ,i presume it to be1 though ,i never inquired as to that1 and though it was at first named ,lines in ,memory of ,schiller's ,der ,pilgrim71 it is remarkable2 for it seems to show that1 even at that early age1 she aspired ardently after poetic fame1 with a keen sense of hope deferred4 ,by ,f4 ,g4 ,stephens 7called ,john ,seward on the wrapper73 ,the ,purpose and ,tendency of ,early ,italian ,art4 ,this article speaks for itself as being a direct outcome of the ,praeraphaelite movement3 its aim is to enforce personal independent endeavour1 based upon close study of nature1 and to illustrate the like qualities shown in the earlier school of art4 ,it is more hortatory than argumentative1 and is in fact too short to develop its thesis--it indicates some main points for reflection4 ,by ,w4 ,bell ,scott3 ,morning ,sleep4 ,this poem delighted us extremely when ,mr4 ,scott sent it in reply to a request for contributions4 ,i still think it a noticeably fine thing1 and one of his most equable pieces of execution4 ,it was republished in his volume of ,poems1 #ahge--with some verbal changes1 and shortened1 ,i think damaged4 ,by ,patmore3 ,stars and ,moon4 ,by ,ford ,madox ,brown3 ,on the ,mechanism of a ,historical ,picture3 ,part #a1 the ,design4 ,it is by this time a well-recognized fact that ,brown was one of the men in ,england1 or indeed in ,europe1 most capable of painting a historical picture1 and it is a matter of regret that ,the ,germ came to an end before he had an opportunity of continuing and completing this serviceable compendium of precepts4 ,he had studied art in continental schools2 but ,i do not think he imported into his article much of what he had been taught1--rather what he had thought out for himself1 and had begun putting into practice4 ,by ,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti3 ,fancies at ,leisure4 ,the first three of these were written to bouts-rims4 ,as to ,no4 #a1 ,noon ,rest1 ,i have a tolerably clear recollection that the rhymes were prescribed to me by ,millais1 on one of the days in #ahdi when ,i was sitting to him for the head of ,lorenzo in his first ,praeraphaelite picture from ,keats's ,isabella4 ,no4 #d1 ,sheer ,waste1 was not a bouts-rims performance4 ,it was chiefly the outcome of an early afternoon spent lazily in ,regent's ,park4 ,by ,walter ,h4 ,deverell3 ,the ,light ,beyond4 ,these sonnets are not of very finished execution1 but they have a dignified sustained tone and some good lines4 ,had ,deverell lived a little longer1 he might probably have proved that he had some genuine vocation as a poet1 no less than a decided pictorial faculty4 ,he died young in ,february #ahed4 ,by ,dante ,g4 ,rossetti3 ,the ,blessed ,damozel4 ,as to this celebrated poem much might be said2 but ,i shall not say it here1 partly because ,i wrote an ,introduction to a reprint 7published by ,messrs4 ,duckworth and ,co4 in #ahih7 of the ,germ version of the poem1 which is the earliest version extant1 and in that ,introduction ,i gave a number of particulars forestalling what ,i could now set down4 ,i will however take this opportunity of correcting a blunder into which ,i fell in the ,introduction above mentioned4 ,i called attention to calm and warm1 which make a cockney rhyme in stanza #i of this ,germ version2 and ,i said that1 in the later version printed in ,the ,oxford and ,cambridge ,magazine in #ahef1 a change in the line was made1 substituting swam for calm1 and that the cockneyism1 though shuffled1 was not thus corrected4 ,in ,the ,saturday ,review1 ,june #be1 #ahih1 the publication of ,messrs4 ,duckworth was criticized2 and the writer very properly pointed out that ,i had made a crass mistake4 ,mr4 ,rossetti1 he said1 must be a very hasty reader of texts4 ,what is printed in ',the ,oxford and ,cambridge ,magazine' is 'swarm1' not 'swam1' and the rhyme with 'warm' is perfect1 stultifying the editor's criticism completely4 ,probably the critic considered my error as unaccountable as it was serious2 and yet it could be fully accounted for1 though not fully excused4 ,i had not been a very hasty reader of texts in the sense indicated by ,the ,saturday ,review4 ,the fact is that1 not possessing a copy of ,the ,oxford and ,cambridge ,magazine1 ,i had referred to the book brought out by ,mr4 ,william ,sharp in #ahhb1 ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti3 ,a ,record and a ,study1 in which are given 7with every appearance of care and completeness7 the passages of ,the ,blessed ,damozel as they appeared in ,the ,germ1 with the alterations printed in ,the ,oxford and ,cambridge ,magazine4 ,from the latter1 the line in question is given by ,mr4 ,sharp as ,waste sea of worlds that swam2 and ,i1 supposing him to be correct 7though ,i allow that memory ought to have taught me the contrary71 reproduced that line to the same effect4 ,always verify your references is a precept to which editors and commentators cannot too carefully conform4 ,many thanks to the writer in ,the ,saturday ,review for showing that1 while ,i1 and also ,mr4 ,sharp1 had made a mistake1 my brother had made none4 ,by ,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti3 ,review of the ,strayed ,reveller and other ,poems1 by ,a4 ,as we all now know1 ,a4 was ,matthew ,arnold1 and this was his first published volume2 but ,i1 at the time of writing the review1 knew nothing of the identity of ,a41 and even had ,i been told that he was ,matthew ,arnold1 that would have carried the matter hardly at all further4 ,i remember that1 after ,i had written the whole or most of this admiring review1 ,i found that the volume had been abused in ,blackwood's ,magazine2 a fact of sweet savour to myself and other ,p4,r4,b4's1 as we entertained a hearty detestation of that magazine1 with its blustering ,christopher ,north1 and its traditions of truculency against ,keats1 ,shelley1 ,leigh ,hunt1 ,tennyson1 ,ruskin1 and some others4 ,i read ,a4's volume with great attention1 and piqued myself somewhat upon having introduced into my review some reference 7detailed or cursory7 to every poem in it4 ,possibly 7but ,i hardly think so7 the critique was afterwards shortened1 so as to bereave it of this merit4 ,by ,madox ,brown 7the etching7 and by ,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti 7the verses73 ,cordelia4 ,for the belated ,no4 #c of ,the ,germ we were much at a loss for an illustration4 ,mr4 ,brown offered to accommodate us by etching this design1 one of a series from ,king ,lear which he had drawn in ,paris in #ahdd4 ,that series1 though not very sightly to the eye1 is of extraordinary value for dramatic insight and energy4 ,we gladly accepted1 and he produced this etching with very little self-satisfaction1 so far as the technique of execution is concerned4 ,dante ,rossetti was to have furnished some verses for the etching2 but for this he did not find time1 so ,i was put in as a stopgap1 and ,i am not sure that any reader of ,the ,germ has ever thanked me for my obedience to the call of duty4 ,by ,patmore3 ,essay on ,macbeth4 ,in this interesting and well-considered paper ,mr4 ,patmore assumes that he was the first person to put into writing the opinion that ,macbeth1 before meeting with the witches1 had already definitely conceived and imparted the idea of obtaining the crown of ,scotland by wrongful means4 ,i have always felt some uncertainty whether ,mr4 ,patmore was really the first2 if he was1 it certainly seems strange that the train of reasoning which he furnishes in this essay--forcible1 even if we do not regard it as unanswerable--should not have presented itself to the mind and pen of some earlier writer4 ,the ,essay appears to have been left incomplete in at least one respect4 ,in speaking of the fifth scene1 the author refers to postponement of comment upon ,macbeth's letter to his wife1 and he leaves it for the present4 ,but the comment never comes4 ,by ,christina ,rossetti3 ,repining4 ,this rather long poem1 written in ,december #ahdg on a still broader scale1 was never republished by the authoress1 although all her other poems in ,the ,germ were so4 ,she did not think that its deservings were such as to call for republication4 ,i apprehend that herein she exercised a wise discretion3 none the less1 when ,i was compiling the volume of her ,new ,poems1 issued in #ahif1 ,i included ,repining--for ,i think that some of the considerations which apply to the works of an author while living do not remain in anything like full force after death4 ,by ,dante ,g4 ,rossetti3 ,the ,carillon1 ,antwerp and ,bruges4 ,these verses1 and some others further on in ,the ,germ1 were written during the brief trip1 in ,paris and ,belgium1 which my brother made along with ,holman-,hunt in the autumn of #ahdi4 ,he did not republish ,the ,carillon2 but he left in ,,ms4 an abridged form of it1 with the title ,antwerp and ,bruges1 and this ,i included in his ,collected ,works1 #ahhf4 ,the only important change was the omission of stanzas #a and #d4 ,by ,dante ,g4 ,rossetti3 ,from the ,cliffs1 ,noon4 ,altering some phrases in this lyric1 and adding two stanzas1 ,rossetti republished it under the name of ,the ,sea-limits4 ,by ,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti3 ,fancies at ,leisure4 ,the first four were written to bouts-rims3 not the fifth1 ,the ,fire ,smouldering1 which is1 ,i think1 as old as #ahdh1 or even #ahdg4 ,by ,john ,l4 ,tupper3 ,papers of the ,,ms4 ,society2 ,no4 #a1 ,an ,incident in the ,siege of ,troy4 ,this grotesque outburst1 though sprightly and clever1 was not well-suited to the pages of ,the ,germ4 ,my attention had been called to it at an earlier date1 when my editorial power was unmodified1 but ,i then staved it off1 and indeed ,john ,tupper himself did not deem it appropriate4 ,it will be observed that ,,ms4 ,society is said not to mean ,manuscript ,society4 ,i forget what it did mean--possibly ,medical ,student ,society4 ,the whole thing is replete with semi-private sous-entendus1 and banter at ,free ,trade1 medical and anatomical matters1 etc4 ,the like general remarks apply to ,no4 #d1 ,smoke1 by the same writer4 ,it is a rollicking semi-intelligible chaunt1 a forcible thing in its way1 proper in the first instance 7,i believe7 to a sort of club of medical students1 ,royal ,academy students1 and others--highly-seasoned smokers most of them--in which ,john ,tupper exercised a quasi-privacy1 and was called 7owing to his thinness1 much over-stated in the poem7 ,the ,spectro-cadaveral ,king4 ,no4 #e1 ,rain1 is again by ,john ,tupper1 and is the only item in ,the ,papers of the ,,ms4 ,society which seems1 in tone and method1 to be reasonably appropriate for ,the ,germ4 ,by ,alexander ,tupper3 ,no4 #b1 ,swift's ,dunces4 ,by ,george ,i4 ,f4 ,tupper3 ,no4 #c1 ,mental ,scales4 ,this also1 in the scrappy condition which it here presents1 reads rather as a joke than as a serious proposition3 ,i believe it was meant for the latter4 ,by ,john ,l4 ,tupper3 ,viola and ,olivia4 ,the verses are not of much significance4 ,the etching by ,deverell1 however defective in technique1 claims more attention1 as the ,viola was drawn from ,miss ,elizabeth ,eleanor ,siddal1 whom ,deverell had observed in a bonnet-shop some few months before the etching was done1 and who in #ahfj became the wife of ,dante ,rossetti4 ,this face does not give much idea of hers1 and yet it is not unlike her in a way4 ,the face of ,olivia bears some resemblance to ,christina ,rossetti3 ,i think however that it was drawn1 not from her1 but from a sister of the artist4 ,by ,john ,orchard3 ,a ,dialogue on ,art4 ,the brief remarks prefacing this dialogue were written by ,dante ,rossetti4 ,the diction of the dialogue itself was also1 at ,orchard's instance1 revised to some minor extent by my brother1 and ,i dare say by me4 ,orchard was a painter of whom perhaps no memory remains at the present day3 he exhibited some few pictures1 among which ,i can dimly remember one of ,the ,flight of ,archbishop ,becket from ,england4 ,his age may1 ,i suppose1 have been twenty-seven or twenty-eight years at the date of his death4 ,in our circle he was unknown2 but1 conceiving a deep admiration for ,rossetti's first exhibited picture 7#ahdi71 ,the ,girlhood of ,mary ,virgin1 he wrote to him1 enclosing a sonnet upon the picture--a very bad sonnet in all executive respects1 and far from giving promise of the spirited1 if unequal1 poetic treatment which we find in the lines in ,the ,germ1 ,on a ,whit-,sunday ,morn in the ,month of ,may4 ,this led to a call from ,orchard to ,rossetti4 ,i think there was only one call1 and ,i1 as well as my brother1 saw him on that occasion4 ,afterwards1 he sent this dialogue for ,the ,germ4 ,the dialogue has always1 and ,i think justly1 been regarded as a remarkable performance4 ,the form of expression is not impeccable1 but there is a large amount of eloquence1 coming in aid of definite and expansive thought4 ,from what is here said it will be understood that ,orchard was quite unconnected with the ,p4,r4,b4 ,he expressed opinions of his own which may indeed have assimilated in some points to theirs1 but he was not in any degree the mouthpiece of their organization1 nor prompted by any member of the ,brotherhood4 ,in the dialogue1 the speaker whose opinions appear manifestly to represent those of ,orchard himself is ,christian1 who is mostly backed up by ,sophon4 ,christian forces ideas of purism or puritanism to an extreme1 beyond anything which ,i can recollect as characterizing any of the ,p4,r4,b4 ,his upholding of the painters who preceded ,raphael as the best men for nurturing new and noble developments of art in our own day was more in their line4 ,in my brother's prefatory note a question is raised of publishing any other writings which ,orchard might have left behind4 ,none such1 however1 were found4 ,dr4 ,w4 ,c4 ,bennett 7afterwards known as the author of ,songs for ,sailors1 etc471 who had been intimate with ,orchard1 aided my brother in his researches4 ,by ,f4 ,g4 ,stephens 7called ,laura ,savage on the wrapper73 ,modern ,giants4 ,by ,dante ,g4 ,rossetti3 ,pax ,vobis4 ,republished by the author1 with some alterations1 under the title of ,world's ,worth4 ,by ,dante ,g4 ,rossetti3 ,sonnets for ,pictures4 ,no4 #a1 ,a ,virgin and ,child1 by ,hans ,memmeling1 was not reprinted by ,rossetti1 but is included 7with a few verbal alterations made by him in ,,ms47 in his ,collected ,works4 ,no4 #b1 ,a ,marriage of ,st4 ,katherine1 by the same4 ,a similar observation4 ,no4 #c1 ,a ,dance of ,nymphs1 by ,andrea ,mantegna1 was republished by ,rossetti1 with some verbal alterations4 ,no4 #d1 ,a ,venetian ,pastoral1 by ,giorgione--the like4 ,the alterations here are of considerable moment4 ,rossetti1 in a published letter of ,october #h1 #ahdi1 referred to the ,giorgione picture as follows3 ,a ,pastoral--at least1 a kind of ,pastoral--by ,giorgione1 which is so intensely fine that ,i condescended to sit down before it and write a sonnet4 ,you must have heard me rave about the engraving before1 and1 ,i fancy1 have seen it yourself4 ,there is a woman1 naked1 at one side1 who is dipping a glass vessel into a well1 and in the centre two men and another naked woman1 who seem to have paused for a moment in playing on the musical instruments which they hold4 ,nos4 #e and #f1 ,angelica ,rescued from the ,sea-,monster1 by ,ingres1 were also reprinted by the author1 with scarcely any alteration4 ,patmore1 on reading these two sonnets1 was much struck with their truthfulness of quality1 as being descriptive of paintings4 ,as to some of the other sonnets1 ,mr4 ,w4 ,m4 ,hardinge wrote in ,temple ,bar1 several years ago1 an article containing various pertinent and acute remarks4 ,by ,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti3 ,review of ,browning's ,christmas ,eve and ,easter ,day4 ,the only observation ,i need make upon this review--which was merely intended as introductory to a fuller estimate of the poem1 to appear in an ensuing number of ,the ,germ--is that it exemplifies that profound cultus of ,robert ,browning which1 commenced by ,dante ,rossetti1 had permeated the whole of the ,praeraphaelite ,brotherhood1 and formed1 not less than some other ideas1 a bond of union among them4 ,it will be readily understood that1 in ,mr4 ,stephens's article1 ,modern ,giants1 the person spoken of as the greatest perhaps of modern poets is ,browning4 ,by ,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti3 ,the ,evil under the ,sun3 ,sonnet4 ,this sonnet was composed in ,august #ahdi1 when the great cause of the ,hungarian insurrection against ,austrian tyranny was1 like revolutionary movements elsewhere1 precipitating towards its fall4 ,my original title for the sonnet was1 ,for the ,general ,oppression of the ,better by the ,worse ,cause1 ,autumn #ahdi4 ,when the verses had to be published in ,the ,germ1 a magazine which did not aim at taking any side in politics1 it was thought that this title was inappropriate1 and the other was substituted4 ,at a much later date the sonnet was reprinted with yet another and more significant title1 ,democracy ,down-trodden4 ,having now disposed of ,the ,germ in general1 and singly of most of the articles in it1 ,i have very little to add4 ,the project of reprinting the magazine was conceived by its present publisher1 ,mr4 ,stock1 many years ago--perhaps about #ahhc4 ,at that time several contributors assented1 but others declined1 and considerations of copyright made it impracticable to proceed with the project4 ,it is only now that lapse of time has disposed of the copyright question1 and ,mr4 ,stock is free to act as he likes4 ,i was from the first one of those 7the majority7 who assented to the republication1 acting herein on behalf of my brother1 then lately deceased1 as well as of myself4 ,i am quite aware that some of the articles in ,the ,germ are far from good1 and some others1 though good in essentials1 are to a certain extent juvenile2 but juvenility is anything but uninteresting when it is that of such men as ,coventry ,patmore and ,dante ,rossetti4 ,the ,germ contains nothing of which1 in spirit and in purport1 the writers need be ashamed4 ,if people like to read it without paying fancy prices for the original edition1 they were and are1 so far as ,i am concerned1 welcome to do so4 ,before ,mr4 ,stock's long-standing scheme could be legally carried into effect1 an ,american publisher1 ,mr4 ,mosher1 towards the close of #ahih1 brought out a handsome reprint of ,the ,germ 7not in any wise a facsimile71 and a few of the copies were placed on sale in ,london4#c ,mr4 ,mosher gave as an introduction to his volume an article by the late ,j4 ,ashcroft ,noble which originally appeared in an ,english magazine in ,may #ahhb4 ,this article is entitled ,a ,pre-,raphaelite ,magazine4 ,it is written in a spirit of generous sympathy1 and is mostly correct in its facts4 ,i may here mention another article on ,the ,germ1 also published1 towards #ahfh1 in some magazine4 ,it is by ,john ,burnell ,payne 7originally a ,clergyman of the ,church of ,england71 who died young in #ahfi4 ,he wrote a triplet of articles1 named ,praeraphaelite ,poetry and ,painting1 of which ,part ,i4 is on ,the ,germ4 ,he expresses himself sympathetically enough2 but his main drift is to show that the ,praeraphaelite movement1 after passing through some immature stages1 developed into a quasi-,renaissance result4 ,a perusal of his paper will show that ,mr4 ,payne was one of the persons who supposed ,chiaro dell',erma1 the hero of ,hand and ,soul1 to have been a real painter1 author of an extant picture4 #c ,i have seen in the ,irish ,figaro1 ,may #f1 #ahii1 a very pleasant notice1 signed ,j4 ,reid1 of this reprint4 ,mr4 ,stock's reprint is of the facsimile order1 and even faults of print are reproduced4 ,i am not called upon to say with any precision what there are4 ,on page #de ,i observe ear1 which should be car2 on page #fb1 ,angilico1 and ,rossini 7for ,rosini74 ,on page #aee the words1 ,i believe that the thought-wrapped philosopher1 ought to begin a new sentence4 ,on page #aei ,phyrnes ought of course to be ,phrynes4 ,the punctuation could frequently be improved4 ,i will conclude by appending a little list 7it makes no pretension to completeness7 of writings bearing upon the ,praeraphaelite ,brotherhood and its members4 ,writings of that kind are by this date rather numerous2 but some readers of the present pages may not well know where to find them1 and might none the less be inclined to read up the subject a little4 ,i give these works in the order 7as far as ,i know it7 of their dates1 without any attempt to indicate the degree of their importance4 ,that is a question on which ,i naturally entertain opinions of my own1 but ,i shall not intrude them upon the reader4 ,ruskin3 ,pre-,raphaelitism1 #ahed1 and other later writings4 ,f4 ,g4 ,stephens3 ,william ,holman-,hunt and his ,works1 #ahfj4 ,william ,sharp3 ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti1 #ahhb4 ,hall ,caine3 ,recollections of ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti1 #ahhb4 ,walter ,hamilton3 ,the aesthetic ,movement in ,england1 #ahhb4 ,t4 ,watts-,dunton3 ,the ,truth about ,rossetti1 #ahhc1 and other writings4 ,w4 ,holman-,hunt3 ,the ,pre-,raphaelite ,brotherhood1 #ahhd 7874 ,earnest ,chesneau3 ,la ,peinture ,anglaise1 #ahhd 7874 ,joseph ,knight3 ,life of ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti1 #ahhg4 ,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti3 ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti as ,designer and ,writer1 #ahhi4 ,harry ,quilter3 ,preferences in ,art1 #ahib4 ,w4 ,bell ,scott3 ,autobiographical ,notes1 #ahib4 ,esther ,wood3 ,dante ,rossetti and the ,pre-,raphaelite ,movement1 #ahid4 ,robert de la ,sizeranne3 ,la ,peinture ,anglaise ,contemporaine1 #ahie4 ,dante ,g4 ,rossetti3 ,family ,letters1 with ,memoir by ,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti1 #ahie4 ,richard ,muther3 ,the ,history of ,modern ,painting1 vols4 ii4 and iii41 #ahif4 ,ford ,h4 ,m4 ,hueffer3 ,ford ,madox ,brown1 #ahif4 ,dante ,g4 ,rossetti3 ,letters to ,william ,allingham1 edited by ,dr4 ,birkbeck ,hill1 #ahig4 ,m4 ,h4 ,spielmann3 ,millais and his ,works1 #ahih4 ,antonio ,agresti3 ,poesie di ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti4 ,traduzione con uno ,studio su la ,pittura ,inglese1 etc41 #ahii4 ,fraulein ,wilmersdoerffer3 ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti und sein ,einflusz1 #ahii4 ,edited by ,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti3 ,ruskin1 ,rossetti1 ,praeraphaelitism1 #ahii4 ,j4 ,guille ,millais3 ,life and ,letters of ,sir ,john ,everett ,millais1 #ahii4 ,percy ,h4 ,bate3 ,the ,english ,praeraphaelite ,painters1 #ahii4 ,h4 ,c4 ,marillier3 ,dante ,gabriel ,rossetti1 #ahii4 ,edited by ,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti3 ,praeraphaelite ,diaries and ,letters1 #ahii4 ,there are also books on ,burne-,jones and ,willaim ,morris with which ,i am not accurately acquainted4 ,it seems strange that no memoir of ,thomas ,woolner has yet been published2 a fine sculptor and remarkable man known to and appreciated by all sorts of people1 and certain to have figured extensively in correspondence4 ,he died in ,october #ahib4 ,mr4 ,holman-,hunt is understood to have been engaged for a long while past upon a book on ,praeraphaelitism which would cast into the shade most of the earlier literature on the subject4 ,w4 ,m4 ,,rossetti ,london1 ,july #ahii4 ,n4,b4--,when the third number of the magazine was about to appear1 with a change of title from ,the ,germ to ,art and ,poetry1 two fly-sheets were drawn up1 more1 ,i think1 by ,messrs4 ,tupper the printing-firm than by myself4 ,they contain some ,opinions of the ,press1 already referred to in this ,introduction1 and an explanation as to the change of title4 ,the fly-sheets appear in facsimile as follows3 ,the ,germ ,the ,subscribers to this ,periodical are respectfully informed that in future it will appear under the title of ,art and ,poetry instead of the original arbitrary one1 which occasioned much misapprehension--,this alteration will not be productive of any ill consequence1 as the title has never occurred in the work itself1 and ,label will be supplied for placing on the old wrappers1 so as to make them conformable to the new-- ,it should also be noticed that the ,numbers will henceforward be published on the last day of the ,month for which they are dated-- ,town ,subscribers will oblige by filling up returning the accompanying form1 which will ensure the ,numbers being duly forwarded as directed4-- ,country ,subscribers may obtain their copies by kindly forwarding their orders to any ,booksellers in their respective ,neighborhoods4-- ,opinions of the press4 444 ,original ,poems1 stories to develop thought and principle1 essays concerning ,art other subjects1 are the materials which are to compose this unique addition to our periodical literature ,among the poetry1 there are some rare gems of poetic conception2 among the prose essays1 we notice the ,subject in ,art which treats of ,art itself in a noble and lofty tone1 with the view which he must take of it who would1 in the truest sense of the word1 be an ,artist1 and another paper1 not less interesting1 on the ,purpose and ,tendency of ,early ,italian ,art ,a well executed ,etching in the medieval style1 accompanies each number ,john ,bull4 444 ,there are so many original and beautiful thoughts in these pages--indeed some of the poems tales are in themselves so beautiful in spirit form--that we have hopes of the writers1 when they shall have got rid of those ghosts of mediaeval art which now haunt their every page4 ,the essay ',on the ,mechanism of a ,historical ,picture' is a good practical treatise1 and indicates the hand of writing which is much wanted among artists ,morning ,chronicle4 ,we depart from our usual plan of noticing the periodicals under one heading1 for the purpose of introducing to our readers a new aspirant for public favour1 which has pecu liar and uncommon claims to attention1 for in design execution it differs from all other periodicals 444 ,a periodical largely occupied with poetry wears an unpromising aspect to readers who have learned from experience what nonsensical stuff most fugitive ,magazine poetry is4444 ,but1 when they have read a few extracts which we propose to make1 we think they will own that for once appearances are deceitful4444 ,that the contents of this work are the productions of no common minds1 the following extracts will sufficiently prove4444 ,we have not space to take any specimens of the prose2 but the essays on ,art are conceived with an equal appreciation of its meaning requirements4 ,being such1 this work has our heartiest wishes for its success1 but we scarcely dare to hope that it may win the popularity it deserves4 ,the truth is that it is too good for the time4 ,it is not material enough for the age ,critic4 444 ,it bears unquestionable evidences of true inspirations and1 in fact1 is so thoroughly spiritual that it is more likely to find 'the fit audience though few' than to attract the multitude 444 ,the prose articles are much to our taste 444 ,we know1 however1 of no periodical of the time which is so genuinely poetical and artistic in its tone4 ,standard of ,freedom4 ,no4 #a4 7,price ,one ,shilling47 ,,january1 #ahej4 ,with an ,etching by ,w4 ,,holman ,,hunt4 ,the ,germ3 ,thoughts towards ,nature ,in ,poetry1 ,literature1 and ,art4 ,when whoso merely hath a little thought ,will plainly think the thought which is in him1-- ,not imaging another's bright or dim1 ,not mangling with new words what others taught2 ,when whoso speaks1 from having either sought ,or only found1--will speak1 not just to skim ,a shallow surface with words made and trim1 ,but in that very speech the matter brought3 ,be not too keen to cry--,so this is all6-- ,a thing ,i might myself have thought as well1 ,but would not say it1 for it was not worth6 ,ask3 ,is this truth8 ,for is it still to tell ,that1 be the theme a point or the whole earth1 ,truth is a circle1 perfect1 great or small8 ,london3 ,,aylott ,,jones1 #h1 ,,paternoster ,,row4 ,g4 ,f ,tupper1 ,printer1 ,clement's ,lane4 ,lombard ,street4 ,,contents4 ,my ,beautiful ,lady3 by ,thomas ,woolner #a ,of my ,lady in ,death3 by ,thomas ,woolner #e ,the ,love of ,beauty3 by ,f4 ,madox ,brown #aj ,the ,subject in ,art1 7,no4 #a47 #aa ,the ,seasons #ai ,dream ,land3 by ,ellen ,allyn #bj ,songs of one ,household1 7,my ,sister's ,sleep73 by ,dante ,g4 ,rossetti #ba ,hand and ,soul3 by ,dante ,g4 ,rossetti #bc ,,reviews3 ,the ,bothie of ,toper-na-fuosich3 by ,wm4 ,m4 ,rossetti #cd ,her ,first ,season3 by ,wm4 ,m4 ,rossetti #df ,a ,sketch ,from ,nature #dg ,an ,end3 by ,ellen ,allyn #dh ,it is requested that those who may have by them any un-published ,poems1 ,essays1 or other articles appearing to coincide with the views in which this ,periodical is established1 and who may feel desirous of contributing such papers--will forward them1 for the approval of the ,editor1 to the ,office of publication4 ,it may be relied upon that the most sincere attention will be paid to the examination of all manuscripts1 whether they be eventually accepted or declined4 ,illustration ,my ,beautiful ,lady ,i love my lady2 she is very fair2 ,her brow is white1 and bound by simple hair2 ,her spirit sits aloof1 and high1 ,altho' it looks thro' her soft eye ,sweetly and tenderly4 ,as a young forest1 when the wind drives thro'1 ,my life is stirred when she breaks on my view4 ,altho' her beauty has such power1 ,her soul is like the simple flower ,trembling beneath a shower4 ,as bliss of saints1 when dreaming of large wings1 ,the bloom around her fancied presence flings1 ,i feast and wile her absence1 by ,pressing her choice hand passionately-- ,imagining her sigh4 ,my lady's voice1 altho' so very mild1 ,maketh me feel as strong wine would a child2 ,my lady's touch1 however slight1 ,moves all my senses with its might1 ,like to a sudden fright4 ,a hawk poised high in air1 whose nerved wing-tips ,tremble with might suppressed1 before he dips1-- ,in vigilance1 not more intense ,than ,i2 when her word's gentle sense ,makes full-eyed my suspense4 ,her mention of a thing--august or poor1 ,makes it seem nobler than it was before3 ,as where the sun strikes1 life will gush1 ,and what is pale receive a flush1 ,rich hues--a richer blush4 ,my lady's name1 if ,i hear strangers use1-- ,not meaning her--seems like a lax misuse4 ,i love none by my lady's name2 ,rose1 ,maud1 or ,grace1 are all the same1 ,so blank1 so very tame4 ,my lady walks as ,i have seen a swan ,swim thro' the water just where the sun shone4 ,there ends of willow branches ride1 ,quivering with the current's glide1 ,by the deep river-side4 ,whene'er she moves there are fresh beauties stirred2 ,as the sunned bosom of a humming-bird ,at each pant shows some fiery hue1 ,burns gold1 intensest green or blue3 ,the same1 yet ever new4 ,what time she walketh under flowering ,may1 ,i am quite sure the scented blossoms say1 ,o lady with the sunlit hair6 ,stay1 and drink our odorous air-- ,the incense that we bear3 ,your beauty1 lady1 we would ever shade2 ,being near you1 our sweetness might not fade4 ,if trees could be broken-hearted1 ,i am sure that the green sap smarted1 ,when my lady parted4 ,this is why ,i thought weeds were beautiful2-- ,because one day ,i saw my lady pull ,some weeds up near a little brook1 ,which home most carefully she took1 ,then shut them in a book4 ,a deer when startled by the stealthy ounce1-- ,a bird escaping from the falcon's trounce1 ,feels his heart swell as mine1 when she ,stands statelier1 expecting me1 ,than tall white lilies be4 ,the first white flutter of her robe to trace1 ,where binds and perfumed jasmine interlace1 ,expands my gaze triumphantly3 ,even such his gaze1 who sees on high ,his flag1 for victory4 ,we wander forth unconsciously1 because ,the azure beauty of the evening draws3 ,when sober hues pervade the ground1 ,and life in one vast hush seems drowned1 ,air stirs so little sound4 ,we thread a copse where frequent bramble spray ,with loose obtrusion from the side roots stray1 7,forcing sweet pauses on our walk73 ,i'll lift one with my foot1 and talk ,about its leaves and stalk4 ,or may be that the prickles of some stem ,will hold a prisoner her long garment's hem2 ,to disentangle it ,i kneel1 ,oft wounding more than ,i can heal2 ,it makes her laugh1 my zeal4 ,then on before a thin-legged robin hops1 ,or leaping on a twig1 he pertly stops1 ,speaking a few clear notes1 till nigh ,we draw1 when quickly he will fly ,into a bush close by4 ,a flock of goldfinches may stop their flight1 ,and wheeling round a birchen tree alight ,deep in its glittering leaves1 until ,they see us1 when their swift rise will ,startle a sudden thrill4 ,i recollect my lady in a wood1 ,keeping her breath and peering--7firm she stood ,her slim shape balanced on tiptoe--7 ,into a nest which lay below1 ,leaves shadowing her brow4 ,i recollect my lady asking me1 ,what that sharp tapping in the wood might be8 ,i told her blackbirds made it1 which1 ,for slimy morsels they count rich1 ,cracked the snail's curling niche3 ,she made no answer4 ,when we reached the stone ,where the shell fragments on the grass were strewn1 ,close to the margin of a rill2 ,the air1 she said1 seems damp and chill1 ,we'll go home if you will4 ,make not my pathway dull so soon1 ,i cried1 ,see how those vast cloudpiles in sun-glow dyed1 ,roll out their splendour3 while the breeze ,lifts gold from leaf to leaf1 as these ,ash saplings move at ease4 ,piercing the silence in our ears1 a bird ,threw some notes up just then1 and quickly stirred ,the covert birds that startled1 sent ,their music thro' the air2 leaves lent ,their rustling and blent1 ,until the whole of the blue warmth was filled ,so much with sun and sound1 that the air thrilled4 ,she gleamed1 wrapt in the dying day's ,glory3 altho' she spoke no praise1 ,i saw much in her gaze4 ,then1 flushed with resolution1 ,i told all2-- ,the mighty love ,i bore her1--how would pall ,my very breath of life1 if she ,for ever breathed not hers with me2-- ,could ,i a cherub be1 ,how1 idly hoping to enrich her grace1 ,i would snatch jewels from the orbs of space2-- ,then back thro' the vague distance beat1 ,glowing with joy her smile to meet1 ,and heap them round her feet4 ,her waist shook to my arm4 ,she bowed her head1 ,silent1 with hands clasped and arms straightened3 7,just then we both heard a church bell7 ,o ,god6 ,it is not right to tell3 ,but ,i remember well ,each breast swelled with its pleasure1 and her whole ,bosom grew heavy with love2 the swift roll ,of new sensations dimmed her eyes1 ,half closing them in ecstasies1 ,turned full against the skies4 ,the rest is gone2 it seemed a whirling round-- ,no pressure of my feet upon the ground3 ,but even when parted from her1 bright ,showed all2 yea1 to my throbbing sight ,the dark was starred with light4 ,of ,my ,lady ,in ,death ,all seems a painted show4 ,i look ,up thro' the bloom that's shed ,by leaves above my head1 ,and feel the earnest life forsook ,all being1 when she died3-- ,my heart halts1 hot and dried ,as the parched course where once a brook ,thro' fresh growth used to flow1-- ,because her past is now ,no more than stories in a printed book4 ,the grass has grown above that breast1 ,now cold and sadly still1 ,my happy face felt thrill3-- ,her mouth's mere tones so much expressed6 ,those lips are now close set1-- ,lips which my own have met2 ,her eyelids by the earth are pressed2 ,damp earth weighs on her eyes2 ,damp earth shuts out the skies4 ,my lady rests her heavy1 heavy rest4 ,to see her slim perfection sweep1 ,trembling impatiently1 ,with eager gaze at me6 ,her feet spared little things that creep3-- ,we've no more right1 she'd say1 ,in this the earth than they4 ,some remember it but to weep4 ,her hand's slight weight was such1 ,care lightened with its touch2 ,my lady sleeps her heavy1 heavy sleep4 ,my day-dreams hovered round her brow2 ,now o'er its perfect forms ,go softly real worms4 ,stern death1 it was a cruel blow1 ,to cut that sweet girl's life ,sharply1 as with a knife4 ,cursed life that lets me live and grow1 ,just as a poisonous root1 ,from which rank blossoms shoot2 ,my lady's laid so very1 very low4 ,dread power1 grief cries aloud1 unjust1-- ,to let her young life play ,its easy1 natural way2 ,then1 with an unexpected thrust1 ,strike out the life you lent1 ,just when her feelings blent ,with those around whom she saw trust ,her willing power to bless1 ,for their whole happiness2 ,my lady moulders into common dust4 ,small birds twitter and peck the weeds ,that wave above her head1 ,shading her lowly bed3 ,their brisk wings burst light globes of seeds1 ,scattering the downy pride ,of dandelions1 wide3 ,speargrass stoops with watery beads3 ,the weight from its fine tips ,occasionally drips3 ,the bee drops in the mallow-bloom1 and feeds4 ,about her window1 at the dawn1 ,from the vine's crooked boughs ,birds chirupped an arouse3 ,flies1 buzzing1 strengthened with the morn2-- ,she'll not hear them again ,at random strike the pane3 ,no more upon the close-cut lawn1 ,her garment's sun-white hem ,bend the prim daisy's stem1 ,in walking forth to view what flowers are born4 ,no more she'll watch the dark-green rings ,stained quaintly on the lea1 ,to image fairy glee2 ,while thro' dry grass a faint breeze sings1 ,and swarms of insects revel ,along the sultry level3-- ,no more will watch their brilliant wings1 ,now lightly dip1 now soar1 ,then sink1 and rise once more4 ,my lady's death makes dear these trivial things4 ,within a huge tree's steady shade1 ,when resting from our walk1 ,how pleasant was her talk6 ,elegant deer leaped o'er the glade1 ,or stood with wide bright eyes1 ,staring a short surprise3 ,outside the shadow cows were laid1 ,chewing with drowsy eye ,their cuds complacently3 ,dim for sunshine drew near a milking-maid4 ,rooks cawed and labored thro' the heat2 ,each wing-flap seemed to make ,their weary bodies ache3 ,the swallows1 tho' so very fleet1 ,made breathless pauses there ,at something in the air3-- ,all disappeared3 our pulses beat ,distincter throbs3 then each ,turned and kissed1 without speech1-- ,she trembling1 from her mouth down to her feet4 ,my head sank on her bosom's heave1 ,so close to the soft skin ,i heard the life within4 ,my forehead felt her coolly breathe1 ,as with her breath it rose3 ,to perfect my repose ,her two arms clasped my neck4 ,the eve ,spread silently around1 ,a hush along the ground1 ,and all sound with the sunlight seemed to leave4 ,by my still gaze she must have known ,the mighty bliss that filled ,my whole soul1 for she thrilled1 ,drooping her face1 flushed1 on my own2 ,i felt that it was such ,by its light warmth of touch4 ,my lady was with me alone3 ,that vague sensation brought ,more real joy than thought4 ,i am without her now1 truly alone4 ,we had no heed of time3 the cause ,was that our minds were quite ,absorbed in our delight1 ,silently blessed4 ,such stillness awes1 ,and stops with doubt1 the breath1 ,like the mute doom of death4 ,i felt ,time's instantaneous pause2 ,an instant1 on my eye ,flashed all ,eternity3-- ,i started1 as if clutched by wild beasts' claws1 ,awakened from some dizzy swoon3 ,i felt strange vacant fears1 ,with singings in my ears1 ,and wondered that the pallid moon ,swung round the dome of night ,with such tremendous might4 ,a sweetness1 like the air of ,june1 ,next paled me with suspense1 ,a weight of clinging sense-- ,some hidden evil would burst on me soon4 ,my lady's love has passed away1 ,to know that it is so ,to me is living woe4 ,that body lies in cold decay1 ,which held the vital soul ,when she was my life's soul4 ,bitter mockery it was to say-- ,our souls are as the same3 ,my words now sting like shame2 ,her spirit went1 and mine did not obey4 ,it was as if a fiery dart ,passed seething thro' my brain ,when ,i beheld her lain ,there whence in life she did not part4 ,her beauty by degrees1 ,sank1 sharpened with disease3 ,the heavy sinking at her heart ,sucked hollows in her cheek1 ,and made her eyelids weak1 ,tho' oft they'd open wide with sudden start4 ,the deathly power in silence drew ,my lady's life away4 ,i watched1 dumb with dismay1 ,the shock of thrills that quivered thro' ,and tightened every limb3 ,for grief my eyes grew dim2 ,more near1 more near1 the moment grew4 ,o horrible suspense6 ,o giddy impotence6 ,i saw her fingers lax1 and change their hue4 ,her gaze1 grown large with fate1 was cast ,where my mute agonies ,made more sad her sad eyes3 ,her breath caught with short plucks and fast3-- ,then one hot choking strain4 ,she never breathed again3 ,i had the look which was her last3 ,even after breath was gone1 ,her love one moment shone1-- ,then slowly closed1 and hope for ever passed4 ,silence seemed to start in space ,when first the bell's harsh toll ,rang for my lady's soul4 ,vitality was hell2 her grace ,the shadow of a dream3 ,things then did scarcely seem3 ,oblivion's stroke fell like a mace3 ,as a tree that's just hewn ,i dropped1 in a dead swoon1 ,and lay a long time cold upon my face4 ,earth had one quarter turned before ,my miserable fate ,pressed on with its whole weight4 ,my sense came back2 and1 shivering o'er1 ,i felt a pain to bear ,the sun's keen cruel glare2 ,it seemed not warm as heretofore4 ,oh1 never more its rays ,will satisfy my gaze4 ,no more2 no more2 oh1 never any more4 ,the ,love of ,beauty ,john ,boccaccio1 love's own squire1 deep sworn ,in service to all beauty1 joy1 and rest1-- ,when first the love-earned royal ,mary press'd1 ,to her smooth cheek1 his pale brows1 passion-worn1-- ',tis said1 he1 by her grace nigh frenzied1 torn ,by longings unattainable1 address'd ,to his chief friend most strange misgivings1 lest ,some madness in his brain had thence been born4 ,the artist-mind alone can feel his meaning3-- ,such as have watched the battle-rank'd array ,of sunset1 or the face of girlhood seen in ,line-blending twilight1 with sick hope4 ,oh6 they ,may feed desire on some fond bosom leaning3 ,but where shall such their thirst of ,nature stay8 ,the ,subject in ,art 7,no4 #a47 ,if ,painting and ,sculpture delight us like other works of ingenuity1 merely from the difficulties they surmount2 like an 'egg in a bottle1' a tree made out of stone1 or a face made of pigment2 and the pleasure we receive1 is our wonder at the achievement2 then1 to such as so believe1 this treatise is not written4 ,but if1 as the writer conceives1 works of ,fine ,art delight us by the interest the objects they depict excite in the beholder1 just as those objects in nature would excite his interest2 if by any association of ideas in the one case1 by the same in the other1 without reference to the representations being other than the objects they represent3--then1 to such as so believe1 the following upon ',,subject' is addressed4 ,whilst1 at the same time1 it is not disallowed that a subsequent pleasure may and does result1 upon reflecting that the objects contemplated were the work of human ingenuity4 ,now the subject to be treated1 is the 'subject' of ,painter and ,sculptor2 what ought to be the nature of that 'subject1' how far that subject may be drawn from past or present time with advantage1 how far the subject may tend to confer upon its embodiment the title1 ',high ,art1' how far the subject may tend to confer upon its embodiment the title ',low ,art2' what is ',high ,art1' what is ',low ,art'8 ,to begin then 7at the end7 with ',high ,art4' ,however we may differ as to facts1 the principle will be readily granted1 that ',high ,art1' i4e4 ,art1 par excellence1 ,art1 in its most exalted character1 addresses pre-eminently the highest attributes of man1 viz43 his mental and his moral faculties4 ',low ,art1' or ,art in its less exalted character1 is that which addresses the less exalted attributes of man1 viz43 his mere sensory faculties1 without affecting the mind or heart1 excepting through the volitional agency of the observer4 ,these definitions are too general and simple to be disputed2 but before we endeavour to define more particularly1 let us analyze the subject1 and see what it will yield4 ,all the works which remain to us of the ,ancients1 and this appears somewhat remarkable1 are1 with the exception of those by incompetent artists1 universally admitted to be ',high ,art4' ,now do we afford them this high title1 because all remnants of the antique world1 by tempting a comparison between what was1 and is1 will set the mental faculties at work1 and thus address the highest attributes of man8 ,or1 as this is owing to the agency of the observer1 and not to the subject represented1 are we to seek for the cause in the subjects themselves6 ,let us examine the subjects4 ,they are mostly in sculpture2 but this cannot be the cause1 unless all modern sculpture be considered ',high ,art4' ,this is leaving out of the question in both ages1 all works badly executed1 and obviously incorrect1 of which there are numerous examples both ancient and modern4 ,the subjects we find in sculpture are1 in the round1 mostly men or women in thoughtful or impassioned action3 sometimes they are indeed acting physically2 but then1 as in the ,jason adjusting his ,sandal1 acting by mechanical impulse1 and thinking or looking in another direction4 ,in relievo we have an historical combat1 such as that between the ,centaurs and ,lapithae2 sometimes a group in conversation1 sometimes a recitation of verses to the ,lyre2 a dance1 or religious procession4 ,as to the first class in the round1 as they seem to appeal to the intellectual1 and often to the moral faculties1 they are naturally1 and according to the broad definition1 works of ',high ,art4' ,of the relievo1 the historical combat appeals to the passions2 and1 being historical1 probably to the intellect4 ,the like may be said of the conversational groups1 and lyrical recitation which follow4 ,the dance appeals to the passions and the intellect2 since the intellect recognises therein an order and design1 her own planning2 while the solemn1 modest demeanour in the religious procession speaks to the heart and the mind4 ,the same remarks will apply to the few ancient paintings we possess1 always excluding such merely decorative works as are not fine art at all4 ,thus it appears that all these works of the ancients might rationally have been denominated works of ',high ,art2' and here we remark the difference between the hypothetical or rational1 and the historical account of facts2 for though here is reason enough why ancient art might have been denominated ',high ,art1' that it was so denominated on this account1 is a position not capable of proof3 whereas1 in all probability1 the true account of the matter runs thus--,the works of antiquity awe us by their time-hallowed presence2 the mind is sent into a serious contemplation of things2 and1 the subject itself in nowise contravening1 we attribute all this potent effect to the agency of the subject before us1 and ',high ,art1' it becomes then and for ever1 with all such as follow its cut4 ,but then as this was so named1 not from the abstract cause1 but from a result and effect2 when a new work is produced in a similar spirit1 but clothed in a dissimilar matter1 and the critics have to settle to what class of art it belongs1--then is the new work dragged up to fight with the old one1 like the poor beggar ,irus in front of ,ulysses2 then are they turned over and applied1 each to each1 like the two triangles in ,euclid2 and then1 if they square1 fit and tally in every quarter--with the nude to the draped in the one1 as the nude to the draped in the other--with the standing to the sitting in the one1 as the standing to the sitting in the other--with the fat to the lean in the one1 as the fat to the lean in the other--with the young to the old in the one1 as the young to the old in the other--with head to body1 as head to body2 and nose to knee1 as nose to knee1 c4 c41 7and the critics have done a great deal7--then is the work oracularly pronounced one of ',high ,art2' and the obsequious artist is pleased to consider it is4 ,but if1 per contra1 as in the former case1 the works are not to be literally reconciled1 though wrought in the self-same spirit2 then this unfortunate creature of genius is degraded into a lower rank of art2 and the artist1 if he have faith in the learned1 despairs2 or1 if he have none1 he swears4 ,but listen1 an artist speaks3 ,if ,i have genius to produce a work in the true spirit of high art1 and yet am so ignorant of its principles1 that ,i scarce know whereon the success of the work depends1 and scarcely whether ,i have succeeded or no2 with this ignorance and this power1 what needs your knowledge or your reasoning1 seeing that nature is all-sufficient1 and produces a painter as she produces a plant8 ,to the artist 7the last of his race71 who spoke thus1 it is answered1 that science is not meant for him1 if he like it not1 seeing he can do without it1 and seeing1 moreover1 that with it alone he can never do4 ,science here does not make2 it unmakes1 wonderingly to find the making of what ,god has made--of what ,god has made through the poet1 leading him blindly by a path which he has not known2 this path science follows slowly and in wonder4 ,but though science is not to make the artist1 there is no reason in nature that the artist reject it4 ,still1 science is properly the birthright of the critic2 'tis his all in all4 ,it shows him poets1 painters1 sculptors1 his fellow men1 often his inferiors in their want of it1 his superiors in the ability to do what he cannot do2 it teaches him to love them as angels bringing him food which he cannot attain1 and to venerate their works as a gift from the ,creator4 ,but to return to the critical errors relating to ',high ,art4' ,while the constituents of high art were unknown1 whilst its abstract principles were unsought1 and whilst it was only recognized in the concrete1 the critics1 certainly guilty of the most unpardonable blindness1 blundered up to the masses of ',high ,art1' left by antiquity1 saying1 there let us fix our observatory1 and here came out perspective glass1 and callipers and compasses2 and here they made squares and triangles1 and circles1 and ellipses1 for1 said they1 this is ',high ,art1' and this hath certain proportions2 then in the logic of their hearts1 they continued1 all these proportions we know by admeasurement1 whatsoever hath these is ',high ,art1' whatsoever hath not1 is ',low ,art4' ,this was as certain as the fact that the sun is a globe of glowing charcoal1 because forsooth they both yield light and heat4 ,now if the phantom of a then embryon-electrician had arisen and told them that their high art marbles possessed an electric influence1 which1 acting in the brain of the observer1 would awake in him emotions of so exalted a character1 that he forthwith1 inevitably nodding at them1 must utter the tremendous syllables ',high ,art2' he1 the then embryon-electrician1 from that age withheld to bless and irradiate the physiology of ours1 would have done something more to the purpose than all the critics and the compasses4 ,thus then we see1 that the antique1 however successfully it may have wrought1 is not our model2 for1 according to that faith demanded at setting out1 fine art delights us from its being the semblance of what in nature delights4 ,now1 as the artist does not work by the instrumentality of rule and science1 but mainly by an instinctive impulse2 if he copy the antique1 unable as he is to segregate the merely delectable matter1 he must needs copy the whole1 and thereby multiply models1 which the casting-man can do equally well2 whereas if he copy nature1 with a like inability to distinguish that delectable attribute which allures him to copy her1 and under the same necessity of copying the whole1 to make sure of this tenant of nowhere2 we then have the artist1 the instructed of nature1 fulfilling his natural capacity1 while his works we have as manifold yet various as nature's own thoughts for her children4 ,but reverting to the subject1 it was stated at the beginning that ',fine ,art' delights1 by presenting us with objects1 which in nature delight us2 and ',high ,art' was defined1 that which addresses the intellect2 and hence it might appear1 as delight is an emotion of the mind1 that ',low ,art1' which addresses the senses1 is not ,fine ,art at all4 ,but then it must be remembered1 that it was neither stated of ',fine ,art1' nor of ',high ,art1' that it always delights2 and again1 that delight is not entirely mental4 ,to point out the confines of high and low art1 where the one terminates and the other commences1 would be difficult1 if not impracticable without sub-defining or circumscribing the import of the terms1 pain1 pleasure1 delight1 sensory1 mental1 psychical1 intellectual1 objective1 subjective1 c4 c42 and then1 as little or nothing would be gained mainly pertinent to the subject1 it must be content to receive no better definitions than those broad ones already laid down1 with their latitude somewhat corrected by practical examples4 ,yet before proceeding to give these examples1 it might be remarked of ',high ,art1' that it always might1 if it do not always excite some portion of delight1 irrespective of that subsequent delight consequent upon the examination of a curiosity2 that its function is sometimes1 with this portion of delight1 to commingle grief or distress1 and that it may1 7though this is not its function17 excite mental anguish1 and by a reflex action1 actual body pain4 ,now then to particularize1 by example2 let us suppose a perfect and correct painting of a stone1 a common stone such as we walk over4 ,now although this subject might to a religious man1 suggest a text of scripture2 and to the geologist a theory of scientific interest2 yet its general effect upon the average number of observers will be readily allowed to be more that of wonder or admiration at a triumph over the apparently impossible 7to make a round stone upon a flat piece of canvass7 than at aught else the subject possesses4 ,now a subject such as this belongs to such very low art1 that it narrowly illudes precipitation over the confines of ,fine ,art2 yet1 that it is ,fine ,art is indisputable1 since no mere mechanic artisan1 or other than one specially gifted by nature1 could produce it4 ,this then shall introduce us to ,subject4 ,this subject then1 standing where fine art gradually confines with mechanic art1 and almost midway between them2 of no use nor beauty2 but to be wondered at as a curiosity2 is a subject of scandalous import to the artist1 to the artist thus gifted by nature with a talent to reproduce her fleeting and wondrous forms4 ,but if1 as the writer doubts1 nature could afford a monster so qualified for a poet1 yet destitute of poetical genius2 then the scandal attaches if he attempt a step in advance1 or neglect to join himself to those1 a most useful class of mechanic artists1 who illustrate the sciences by drawing and diagram4 ,but as the subject supposed is one never treated in painting2 only instanced1 in fact1 to exemplify an extreme2 let us consider the merits of a subject really practical1 such as 'dead game1' or 'a basket of fruit2' and the first general idea such a subject will excite is simply that of food1 'something to eat4' ,for though fruit on the tree1 or a pheasant in the air1 is a portion of nature and properly belongs to the section1 ',landscape1' a division of art intellectual enough2 yet gather the fruit or bring down the pheasant1 and you presently bring down the poetry with it2 and although ,sterne could sentimentalize upon a dead ass2 and though a dead pheasant in the larder1 or a dead sheep at a butcher's1 may excite feelings akin to anything but good living2 and though they may there be the excitive causes of poetical1 nay1 or moral reflexion2 yet1 see them on the canvass1 and the first and uppermost idea will be that of ',food1' and how1 in the name of decency1 they ever came there4 ,it will be vain to argue that gathered fruit is only nature under a certain phase1 and that a dead sheep or a dead pheasant is only a dead animal like a dead ass--it will be pitiably vain and miserable sophistry1 since we know that the dead pheasant in a picture will always be as food1 while the same at he poulterer's will be but a dead pheasant4 ,for we have not one only1 but numerous general ideas annexed to every object in nature4 ,thus one of the series may be that that object is matter1 one that it is individual matter1 one that it is animal matter1 one that it is a bird1 one that it is a pheasant1 one that it is a dead pheasant1 and one that it is food4 ,now1 our general ideas or notions are not evoked in this order as each new object addresses the mind2 but that general idea is first elicited which accords with the first or principle destination of the object3 thus the first general idea of a cowry1 to the ,indian1 is that of money1 not of a shell2 and our first general idea of a dead pheasant is that of food1 whereas to a zoologist it might have a different effect3 but this is the exception4 ,but it was said1 that a dead pheasant in a picture would always be as food1 while the same at the poulterer's would be but a dead pheasant3 what then becomes of the first general idea8 ,it seems to be disposed of thus3 at the first sight of the shop1 the idea is that of food1 and next 7if you are not hungry1 and poets never are71 the mind will be attracted to the species of animal1 and 7unless hunger presses7 you may be led on to moralize like ,sterne3 but1 amongst pictures1 where there is nothing else to excite the general ideas of food1 this1 whenever adverted to1 must over re-excite that idea2 and hence it appears that these esculent subjects might be poetical enough if exhibited all together1 i4e41 they must be surrounded with eatables1 like a possibly-poetical-pheasant in a poulterer's shop4 ,longer stress has been laid upon this subject1 ,still ,life1 than would seem justified by its insignificance1 but as this is a branch of art which has never aspired to be ',high ,art1' it contains something definite in its character which makes it better worth the analysis than might appear at first sight2 but still1 as a latitude has been taken in the investigation which is ever unavoidable in the handling of such mercurial matter as poetry 7where one must spread out a broad definition to catch it wherever it runs71 and as this is ever incomprehensible to such as are unaccustomed to abstract thinking1 from the difficulty of educing a rule amidst an infinite array of exceptions1 and of recognising a principle shrouded in the obscurity of conflicting details2 it appears expedient1 before pursuing the question1 to reinforce the first broad elementary principles with what definite modification they may have acquired in their progress to this point in the argument1 together with the additional data which may have resulted from analytic reference to other correlative matter4 ,first then1 as ,fine ,art delights in proportion to the delectating interest of the objects it depicts1 and1 as subsequently stated1 grieves or distresses in proportion as the objects are grievous or distressing1 we have this resultant3 ,fine ,art excites in proportion to the excitor influence of the object2 and then1 that fine art excites either the sensory or the mental faculties1 in a like proportion to the excitor properties of the objects respectively4 ,thus then we have1 definitely stated1 the powers or capabilities of ,fine ,art1 as regulated and governed by the objects it selects1 and the objects it selects making its subject4 ,now the question in hand is1 what the nature of that subject should be1 but the subject must be according to what ,fine ,art proposes to effect2 all then must depend upon this proposition4 ,for if you propose that ,fine ,art shall excite sensual pleasure1 then such objects as excite sensual pleasure should form the subject of ,fine ,art2 and those which excite sensual pleasure in the highest degree1 will form the highest subject--',high ,art4' ,or if you propose that ,fine ,art shall excite a physical energetic activity1 by addressing the sensory organism1 which is a phase of the former proposition1 7for what are popularly called sensual pleasures1 are only particular sensory excitements sought by a physical appetite1 while this sensory-organic activity is physically appetent also17 then the subjects of art ought to be draw form such objects as excite a general activity1 such as field-sports1 bull-fights1 battles1 executions1 court pageants1 conflagrations1 murders2 and those which most intensely excite this sensory-organic activity1 by expressing most of physical human power or suffering1 such as battles1 executions1 regality1 murder1 would afford the highest subject of ,fine ,art1 and consequently these would be ,high ,art4 ,but if you propose 7with the writer7 that ,fine ,art shall regard the general happiness of man1 but addressing those attributes which are peculiarly human1 by exciting the activity of his rational and benevolent powers 7and the writer would add1 man's religious aspirations1 but omits it as sufficiently evolvable from the proposition1 and since some well-willing men cannot at present recognize man as a religious animal71 then the subject of ,fine ,art should be drawn from objects which address and excite the activity of man's rational and benevolent powers1 such as3--acts of justice--of mercy--good government--order--acts of intellect--men obviously speaking or thinking abstract thoughts1 as evinced by one speaking to another1 and looking at1 or indicating1 a flower1 or a picture1 or a star1 or by looking on the wall while speaking--or1 if the scene be from a good play1 or story1 or another beneficent work1 then not only of men in abstract thought or meditation1 but1 it may be1 in simple conversation1 or in passion--or a simple representation of a person in a play or story1 as of ,jacques1 ,ferdinand1 or ,cordelia2 or1 in real life1 portraits of those who are honestly beautiful2 or expressive of innocence1 happiness1 benevolence1 or intellectuality1 but not of gluttony1 wantonness1 anger1 hatred1 or malevolence1 unless in some cases of justifiable satire--of histrionic or historic portraiture--landscape--natural phenomena--animals1 not indiscriminately--in some cases1 grand or beautiful buildings1 even without figures--any scene on sea or land which induces reflection--all subjects from such parts of history as are morally or intellectually instructive or attractive--and therefore pageants--battles--and even executions--all forms of thought and poetry1 however wild1 if consistent with rational benevolence--all scenes serious or comic1 domestic or historical--all religious subjects proposing good that will not shock any reasonable number of reasonable men--all subjects that leave the artist wiser and happier--and none which intrinsically act otherwise--to sum all1 every thing or incident in nature which excites1 or may be made to excite1 the mind and the heart of man as a mentally intelligent1 not as a brute animal1 is a subject for ,fine ,art1 at all times1 in all places1 and in all ages4 ,but as all these subjects in nature affect our hearts or our understanding in proportion to the heart and understanding we have to apprehend and to love them1 those will excite us most intensely which we know most of and love most4 ,but as we may learn to know them all and to love them all1 and what is dark to-day may be luminous to-morrow1 and things1 dumb to-day1 to-morrow grow voiceful1 and the strange voice of to-day be plain and reproach us to-morrow2 who shall adventure to say that this or that is the highest8 ,and if it appear that all these subjects in nature may affect us with equal intensity1 and that the artist's representations affect as the subjects affect1 then it follows1 with all these subjects1 ,fine ,art may affect us equally2 but the subjects may all be high2 therefore1 all ,fine ,art may be ,high ,art4 ,the ,seasons ,the crocus1 in the shrewd ,march morn1 ,thrusts up its saffron spear2 ,and ,april dots the sombre thorn ,with gems1 and loveliest cheer4 ,then sleep the seasons1 full of might2 ,while slowly swells the pod1 ,and rounds the peach1 and in the night ,the mushroom bursts the sod4 ,the winter falls3 the frozen rut ,is bound with silver bars2 ,the white drift heaps against the hut2 ,and night is pierced with stars4 ,dream ,land ,where sunless rivers weep ,their waves into the deep1 ,she sleeps a charmed sleep2 ,awake her not4 ,led by a single star1 ,she came from very far1 ,to seek where shadows are ,her pleasant lot4 ,she left the rosy morn1 ,she left the fields of corn1 ,for twilight cold and lorn1 ,and water-springs4 ,thro' sleep1 as thro' a veil1 ,she sees the sky look pale1 ,and hears the nightingale1 ,that sadly sings4 ,rest1 rest1 a perfect rest1 ,shed over brow and breast2 ,her face is toward the west1 ,the purple land4 ,she cannot see the grain ,ripening on hill and plain2 ,she cannot feel the rain ,upon her hand4 ,rest1 rest1 for evermore ,upon a mossy shore1 ,rest1 rest1 that shall endure1 ,till time shall cease2-- ,sleep that no pain shall wake1 ,night that no morn shall break1 ,till joy shall overtake ,her perfect peace4 ,songs of ,one ,household ,no4 #a4 ,my ,sister's ,sleep ,she fell asleep on ,christmas ,eve4 ,upon her eyes' most patient calms ,the lids were shut2 her uplaid arms ,covered her bosom1 ,i believe4 ,our mother1 who had leaned all day ,over the bed from chime to chime1 ,then raised herself for the first time1 ,and as she sat her down1 did pray4 ,her little work-table was spread ,with work to finish4 ,for the glare ,made by her candle1 she had care ,to work some distance from the bed4 ,without1 there was a good moon up1 ,which left its shadows far within2 ,the depth of light that it was in ,seemed hollow like an altar-cup4 ,through the small room1 with subtle sound ,of flame1 by vents the fireshine drove ,and reddened4 ,in its dim alcove ,the mirror shed a clearness round4 ,i had been sitting up some nights1 ,and my tir'd mind felt weak and blank2 ,like a sharp strengthening wine1 it drank ,the stillness and the broken lights4 ,silence was speaking at my side ,with an exceedingly clear voice3 ,i knew the calm as of a choice ,made in ,god for me1 to abide4 ,i said1 ,full knowledge does not grieve3 ,this which upon my spirit dwells ,perhaps would have been sorrow else3 ,but ,i am glad 'tis ,christmas ,eve4 ,twelve struck4 ,that sound1 which all the years ,hear in each hour1 crept off2 and then ,the ruffled silence spread again1 ,like water that a pebble stirs4 ,our mother rose from where she sat4 ,her needles1 as she laid them down1 ,met lightly1 and her silken gown ,settled3 no other noise than that4 ,glory unto the ,newly ,born6 ,so1 as said angels1 she did say2 ,because we were in ,christmas-day1 ,though it would still be long till dawn4 ,she stood a moment with her hands ,kept in each other1 praying much2 ,a moment that the soul may touch ,but the heart only understands4 ,almost unwittingly1 my mind ,repeated her words after her2 ,perhaps tho' my lips did not stir2 ,it was scarce thought1 or cause assign'd4 ,just then in the room over us ,there was a pushing back of chairs1 ,as some who had sat unawares ,so late1 now heard the hour1 and rose4 ,anxious1 with softly stepping haste1 ,our mother went where ,margaret lay1 ,fearing the sounds o'erhead--should they ,have broken her long-watched for rest6 ,she stooped an instant1 calm1 and turned2 ,but suddenly turned back again2 ,and all her features seemed in pain ,with woe1 and her eyes gazed and yearned4 ,for my part1 ,i but hid my face1 ,and held my breath1 and spake no word3 ,there was none spoken2 but ,i heard ,the silence for a little space4 ,my mother bowed herself and wept4 ,and both my arms fell1 and ,i said3 ,god knows ,i knew that she was dead4 ,and there1 all white1 my sister slept4 ,then kneeling1 upon ,christmas morn ,a little after twelve o'clock ,we said1 ere the first quarter struck1 ,christ's blessing on the newly born6 ,hand and ,soul ,rivolsimi in quel lato ,l 'nde venia la voce1 ,e parvemi una luce ,che lucea quanto stella3 ,la mia mente era quella4 ,bonaggiunta ,urbiciani1 7#abej47 ,before any knowledge of painting was brought to ,florence1 there were already painters in ,lucca1 and ,pisa1 and ,arezzo1 who feared ,god and loved the art4 ,the keen1 grave workmen from ,greece1 whose trade it was to sell their own works in ,italy and teach ,italians to imitate them1 had already found rivals of the soil with skill that could forestall their lessons and cheapen their crucifixes and addolorate1 more years than is supposed before the art came at all into ,florence4 ,the pre-eminence to which ,cimabue was raised at once by his contemporaries1 and which he still retains to a wide extent even in the modern mind1 is to be accounted for1 partly by the circumstances under which he arose1 and partly by that extraordinary purpose of fortune born with the lives of some few1 and through which it is not a little thing for any who went before1 if they are even remembered as the shadows of the coming of such an one1 and the voices which prepared his way in the wilderness4 ,it is thus1 almost exclusively1 that the painters of whom ,i speak are now known4 ,they have left little1 and but little heed is taken of that which men hold to have been surpassed2 it is gone like time gone--a track of dust and dead leaves that merely led to the fountain4 ,nevertheless1 of very late years1 and in very rare instances1 some signs of a better understanding have become manifest4 ,a case in point is that of the tryptic and two cruciform pictures at ,dresden1 by ,chiaro di ,messer ,bello dell' ,erma1 to which the eloquent pamphlet of ,dr4 ,aemmster has at length succeeded in attracting the students4 ,there is another1 still more solemn and beautiful work1 now proved to be by the same hand1 in the gallery at ,florence4 ,it is the one to which my narrative will relate4 99 99 99 99 99 99 99 ,this ,chiaro dell' ,erma was a young man of very honorable family in ,arezzo2 where1 conceiving art almost1 as it were1 for himself1 and loving it deeply1 he endeavored from early boyhood towards the imitation of any objects offered in nature4 ,the extreme longing after a visible embodiment of his thoughts strengthened as his years increased1 more even than his sinews or the blood of his life2 until he would feel faint in sunsets and at the sight of stately persons4 ,when he had lived nineteen years1 he heard of the famous ,giunta ,pisano2 and1 feeling much of admiration1 with1 perhaps1 a little of that envy which youth always feels until it has learned to measure success by time and opportunity1 he determined that he would seek out ,giunta1 and1 if possible1 become his pupil4 ,having arrived in ,pisa1 he clothed himself in humble apparel1 being unwilling that any other thing than the desire he had for knowledge should be his plea with the great painter2 and then1 leaving his baggage at a house of entertainment1 he took his way along the street1 asking whom he met for the lodging of ,giunta4 ,it soon chanced that one of that city1 conceiving him to be a stranger and poor1 took him into his house1 and refreshed him2 afterwards directing him on his way4 ,when he was brought to speech of ,giunta1 he said merely that he was a student1 and that nothing in the world was so much at his heart as to become that which he had heard told of him with whom he was speaking4 ,he was received with courtesy and consideration1 and shewn into the study of the famous artist4 ,but the forms he saw there were lifeless and incomplete2 and a sudden exultation possessed him as he said within himself1 ,i am the master of this man4 ,the blood came at first into his face1 but the next moment he was quite pale and fell to trembling4 ,he was able1 however1 to conceal his emotion2 speaking very little to ,giunta1 but1 when he took his leave1 thanking him respectfully4 ,after this1 ,chiaro's first resolve was1 that he would work out thoroughly some one of his thoughts1 and let the world know him4 ,but the lesson which he had now learned1 of how small a greatness might win fame1 and how little there was to strive against1 served to make him torpid1 and rendered his exertions less continual4 ,also ,pisa was a larger and more luxurious city than ,arezzo2 and1 when in his walks1 he saw the great gardens laid out for pleasure1 and the beautiful women who passed to and fro1 and heard the music that was in the groves of the city at evening1 he was taken with wonder that he had never claimed his share of the inheritance of those years in which his youth was cast4 ,and women loved ,chiaro2 for1 in despite of the burthen of study1 he was well-favoured and very manly in his walking2 and1 seeing his face in front1 there was a glory upon it1 as upon the face of one who feels a light round his hair4 ,so he put thought from him1 and partook of his life4 ,but1 one night1 being in a certain company of ladies1 a gentleman that was there with him began to speak of the paintings of a youth named ,bonaventura1 which he had seen in ,lucca2 adding that ,giunta ,pisano might now look for a rival4 ,when ,chiaro heard this1 the lamps shook before him1 and the music beat in his ears and made him giddy4 ,he rose up1 alleging a sudden sickness1 and went out of that house with his teeth set4 ,he now took to work diligently2 not returning to ,arezzo1 but remaining in ,pisa1 that no day more might be lost2 only living entirely to himself4 ,sometimes1 after nightfall1 he would walk abroad in the most solitary places he could find2 hardly feeling the ground under him1 because of the thoughts of the day which held him in fever4 ,the lodging he had chosen was in a house that looked upon gardens fast by the ,church of ,san ,rocco4 ,during the offices1 as he sat at work1 he could hear the music of the organ and the long murmur that the chanting left2 and if his window were open1 sometimes1 at those parts of the mass where there is silence throughout the church1 his ear caught faintly the single voice of the priest4 ,beside the matters of his art and a very few books1 almost the only object to be noticed in ,chiaro's room was a small consecrated image of ,st4 ,mary ,virgin wrought out of silver1 before which stood always1 in summer-time1 a glass containing a lily and a rose4 ,it was here1 and at this time1 that ,chiaro painted the ,dresden pictures2 as also1 in all likelihood1 the one--inferior in merit1 but certainly his--which is now at ,munich4 ,for the most part1 he was calm and regular in his manner of study2 though often he would remain at work through the whole of the day1 not resting once so long as the light lasted2 flushed1 and with the hair from his face4 ,or1 at times1 when he could not paint1 he would sit for hours in thought of all the greatness the world had known from of old2 until he was weak with yearning1 like one who gazes upon a path of stars4 ,he continued in this patient endeavour for about three years1 at the end of which his name was spoken throughout all ,tuscany4 ,as his fame waxed1 he began to be employed1 besides easel-pictures1 upon paintings in fresco3 but ,i believe that no traces remain to us of any of these latter4 ,he is said to have painted in the ,duomo3 and ,d',agincourt mentions having seen some portions of a fresco by him which originally had its place above the high altar in the ,church of the ,certosa2 but which1 at the time he saw it1 being very dilapidated1 had been hewn out of the wall1 and was preserved in the stores of the convent4 ,before the period of ,dr4 ,aemmster's researches1 however1 it had been entirely destroyed4 ,chiaro was now famous4 ,it was for the race of fame that he had girded up his loins2 and he had not paused until fame was reached3 yet now1 in taking breath1 he found that the weight was still at his heart4 ,the years of his labor had fallen from him1 and his life was still in its first painful desire4 ,with all that ,chiaro had done during these three years1 and even before1 with the studies of his early youth1 there had always been a feeling of worship and service4 ,it was the peace-offering that he made to ,god and to his own soul for the eager selfishness of his aim4 ,there was earth1 indeed1 upon the hem of his raiment2 but this was of the heaven1 heavenly4 ,he had seasons when he could endure to think of no other feature of his hope than this3 and sometimes1 in the ecstacy of prayer1 it had even seemed to him to behold that day when his mistress--his mystical lady 7now hardly in her ninth year1 but whose solemn smile at meeting had already lighted on his soul like the dove of the ,trinity7--even she1 his own gracious and holy ,italian art--with her virginal bosom1 and her unfathomable eyes1 and the thread of sunlight round her brows--should pass1 through the sun that never sets1 into the circle of the shadow of the tree of life1 and be seen of ,god1 and found good3 and then it had seemed to him1 that he1 with many who1 since his coming1 had joined the band of whom he was one 7for1 in his dream1 the body he had worn on earth had been dead an hundred years71 were permitted to gather round the blessed maiden1 and to worship with her through all ages and ages of ages1 saying1 ,holy1 holy1 holy4 ,this thing he had seen with the eyes of his spirit2 and in this thing had trusted1 believing that it would surely come to pass4 ,but now1 7being at length led to enquire closely into himself17 even as1 in the pursuit of fame1 the unrest abiding after attainment had proved to him that he had misinterpreted the craving of his own spirit--so also1 now that he would willingly have fallen back on devotion1 he became aware that much of that reverence which he had mistaken for faith had been no more than the worship of beauty4 ,therefore1 after certain days passed in perplexity1 ,chiaro said within himself1 ,my life and my will are yet before me3 ,i will take another aim to my life4 ,from that moment ,chiaro set a watch on his soul1 and put his hand to no other works but only to such as had for their end the presentment of some moral greatness that should impress the beholder3 and1 in doing this1 he did not choose for his medium the action and passion of human life1 but cold symbolism and abstract impersonation4 ,so the people ceased to throng about his pictures as heretofore2 and1 when they were carried through town and town to their destination1 they were no longer delayed by the crowds eager to gaze and admire3 and no prayers or offerings were brought to them on their path1 as to his ,madonnas1 and his ,saints1 and his ,holy ,children4 ,only the critical audience remained to him2 and these1 in default of more worthy matter1 would have turned their scrutiny on a puppet or a mantle4 ,meanwhile1 he had no more of fever upon him2 but was calm and pale each day in all that he did and in his goings in and out4 ,the works he produced at this time have perished--in all likelihood1 not unjustly4 ,it is said 7and we may easily believe it71 that1 though more labored than his former pictures1 they were cold and unemphatic2 bearing marked out upon them1 as they must certainly have done1 the measure of that boundary to which they were made to conform4 ,and the weight was still close at ,chiaro's heart3 but he held in his breath1 never resting 7for he was afraid71 and would not know it4 ,now it happened1 within these days1 that there fell a great feast in ,pisa1 for holy matters3 and each man left his occupation2 and all the guilds and companies of the city were got together for games and rejoicings4 ,and there were scarcely any that stayed in the houses1 except ladies who lay or sat along their balconies between open windows which let the breeze beat through the rooms and over the spread tables from end to end4 ,and the golden cloths that their arms lay upon drew all eyes upward to see their beauty2 and the day was long2 and every hour of the day was bright with the sun4 ,so ,chiaro's model1 when he awoke that morning on the hot pavement of the ,piazza ,nunziata1 and saw the hurry of people that passed him1 got up and went along with them2 and ,chiaro waited for him in vain4 ,for the whole of that morning1 the music was in ,chiaro's room from the ,church close at hand3 and he could hear the sounds that the crowd made in the streets2 hushed only at long intervals while the processions for the feast-day chanted in going under his windows4 ,also1 more than once1 there was a high clamour from the meeting of factious persons3 for the ladies of both leagues were looking down2 and he who encountered his enemy could not choose but draw upon him4 ,chiaro waited a long time idle2 and then knew that his model was gone elsewhere4 ,when at his work1 he was blind and deaf to all else2 but he feared sloth3 for then his stealthy thoughts would begin1 as it were1 to beat round and round him1 seeking a point for attack4 ,he now rose1 therefore1 and went to the window4 ,it was within a short space of noon2 and underneath him a throng of people was coming out through the porch of ,san ,rocco4 ,the two greatest houses of the feud in ,pisa had filled the church for that mass4 ,the first to leave had been the ,gherghiotti2 who1 stopping on the threshold1 had fallen back in ranks along each side of the archway3 so that now1 in passing outward1 the ,marotoli had to walk between two files of men whom they hated1 and whose fathers had hated theirs4 ,all the chiefs were there and their whole adherence2 and each knew the name of each4 ,every man of the ,marotoli1 as he came forth and saw his foes1 laid back his hood and gazed about him1 to show the badge upon the close cap that held his hair4 ,and of the ,gherghiotti there were some who tightened their girdles2 and some shrilled and threw up their wrists scornfully1 as who flies a falcon2 for that was the crest of their house4 ,on the walls within the entry were a number of tall1 narrow frescoes1 presenting a moral allegory of ,peace1 which ,chiaro had painted that year for the ,church4 ,the ,gherghiotti stood with their backs to these frescoes3 and among them ,golzo ,ninuccio1 the youngest noble of the faction1 called by the people of ,golaghiotta1 for his debased life4 ,this youth had remained for some while talking listlessly to his fellows1 though with his sleepy sunken eyes fixed on them who passed3 but now1 seeing that no man jostled another1 he drew the long silver shoe off his foot1 and struck the dust out of it on the cloak of him who was going by1 asking him how far the tides rose at ,viderza4 ,and he said so because it was three months since1 at that place1 the ,gherghiotti had beaten the ,marotoli to the sands1 and held them there while the sea came in2 whereby many had been drowned4 ,and1 when he had spoken1 at once the whole archway was dazzling with the light of confused swords2 and they who had left turned back2 and they who were still behind made haste to come forth3 and there was so much blood cast up the walls on a sudden1 that it ran in long streams down ,chiaro's paintings4 ,chiaro turned himself from the window2 for the light felt dry between his lids1 and he could not look4 ,he sat down1 and heard the noise of contention driven out of the church-porch and a great way through the streets2 and soon there was a deep murmur that heaved and waxed from the other side of the city1 where those of both parties were gathering to join in the tumult4 ,chiaro sat with his face in his open hands4 ,once again he had wished to set his foot on a place that looked green and fertile2 and once again it seemed to him that the thin rank mask was about to spread away1 and that this time the chill of the water must leave leprosy in his flesh4 ,the light still swam in his head1 and bewildered him at first2 but when he knew his thoughts1 they were these3-- ,fame failed me3 faith failed me3 and now this also1--the hope that ,i nourished in this my generation of men1--shall pass from me1 and leave my feet and my hands groping4 ,yet1 because of this1 are my feet become slow and my hands thin4 ,i am as one who1 through the whole night1 holding his way diligently1 hath smitten the steel unto the flint1 to lead some whom he knew darkling2 who hath kept his eyes always on the sparks that himself made1 lest they should fail2 and who1 towards dawn1 turning to bid them that he had guided ,god speed1 sees the wet grass untrodden except of his own feet4 ,i am as the last hour of the day1 whose chimes are a perfect number2 whom the next followeth not1 nor light ensueth from him2 but in the same darkness is the old order begun afresh4 ,men say1 ',this is not ,god nor man2 he is not as we are1 neither above us3 let him sit beneath us1 for we are many4' ,where ,i write ,peace1 in that spot is the drawing of swords1 and there men's footprints are red4 ,when ,i would sow1 another harvest is ripe4 ,nay1 it is much worse with me than thus much4 ,am ,i not as a cloth drawn before the light1 that the looker may not be blinded2 but which sheweth thereby the grain of its own coarseness2 so that the light seems defiled1 and men say1 ',we will not walk by it4' ,wherefore through me they shall be doubly accursed1 seeing that through me they reject the light4 ,may one be a devil and not know it8 ,as ,chiaro was in these thoughts1 the fever encroached slowly on his veins1 till he could sit no longer1 and would have risen2 but suddenly he found awe within him1 and held his head bowed1 without stirring4 ,the warmth of the air was not shaken2 but there seemed a pulse in the light1 and a living freshness1 like rain4 ,the silence was a painful music1 that made the blood ache in his temples2 and he lifted his face and his deep eyes4 ,a woman was present in his room1 clad to the hands and feet with a green and grey raiment1 fashioned to that time4 ,it seemed that the first thoughts he had ever known were given him as at first from her eyes1 and he knew her hair to be the golden veil through which he beheld his dreams4 ,though her hands were joined1 her face was not lifted1 but set forward2 and though the gaze was austere1 yet her mouth was supreme in gentleness4 ,and as he looked1 ,chiaro's spirit appeared abashed of its own intimate presence1 and his lips shook with the thrill of tears2 it seemed such a bitter while till the spirit might be indeed alone4 ,she did not move closer towards him1 but he felt her to be as much with him as his breath4 ,he was like one who1 scaling a great steepness1 hears his own voice echoed in some place much higher than he can see1 and the name of which is not known to him4 ,as the woman stood1 her speech was with ,chiaro3 not1 as it were1 from her mouth or in his ears2 but distinctly between them4 ,i am an image1 ,chiaro1 of thine own soul within thee4 ,see me1 and know me as ,i am4 ,thou sayest that fame has failed thee1 and faith failed thee2 but because at least thou hast not laid thy life unto riches1 therefore1 though thus late1 ,i am suffered to come into thy knowledge4 ,fame sufficed not1 for that thou didst seek fame3 seek thine own conscience 7not thy mind's conscience1 but thine heart's71 and all shall approve and suffice4 ,for ,fame1 in noble soils1 is a fruit of the ,spring3 but not therefore should it be said3 ',lo6 my garden that ,i planted is barren3 the crocus is here1 but the lily is dead in the dry ground1 and shall not lift the earth that covers it3 therefore ,i will fling my garden together1 and give it unto the builders4' ,take heed rather that thou trouble not the wise secret earth2 for in the mould that thou throwest up shall the first tender growth lie to waste2 which else had been made strong in its season4 ,yea1 and even if the year fall past in all its months1 and the soil be indeed1 to thee1 peevish and incapable1 and though thou indeed gather all thy harvest1 and it suffice for others1 and thou remain vext with emptiness2 and others drink of thy streams1 and the drouth rasp thy throat2--let it be enough that these have found the feast good1 and thanked the giver3 remembering that1 when the winter is striven through1 there is another year1 whose wind is meek1 and whose sun fulfilleth all4 ,while he heard1 ,chiaro went slowly on his knees4 ,it was not to her that spoke1 for the speech seemed within him and his own4 ,the air brooded in sunshine1 and though the turmoil was great outside1 the air within was at peace4 ,but when he looked in her eyes1 he wept4 ,and she came to him1 and cast her hair over him1 and1 took her hands about his forehead1 and spoke again3 ,thou hadst said1 she continued1 gently1 that faith failed thee4 ,this cannot be so4 ,either thou hadst it not1 or thou hast it4 ,but who bade thee strike the point betwixt love and faith8 ,wouldst thou sift the warm breeze from the sun that quickens it8 ,who bade thee turn upon ,god and say3 ,behold1 my offering is of earth1 and not worthy3 thy fire comes not upon it3 therefore1 though ,i slay not my brother whom thou acceptest1 ,i will depart before thou smite me4 ,why shouldst thou rise up and tell ,god ,he is not content8 ,had ,he1 of ,his warrant1 certified so to thee8 ,be not nice to seek out division2 but possess thy love in sufficiency3 assuredly this is faith1 for the heart must believe first4 ,what ,he hath set in thine heart to do1 that do thou2 and even though thou do it without thought of ,him1 it shall be well done3 it is this sacrifice that ,he asketh of thee1 and ,his flame is upon it for a sign4 ,think not of ,him2 but of ,his love and thy love4 ,for ,god is no morbid exactor3 he hath no hand to bow beneath1 nor a foot1 that thou shouldst kiss it4 ,and ,chiaro held silence1 and wept into her hair which covered his face2 and the salt tears that he shed ran through her hair upon his lips2 and he tasted the bitterness of shame4 ,then the fair woman1 that was his soul1 spoke again to him1 saying3 ,and for this thy last purpose1 and for those unprofitable truths of thy teaching1--thine heart hath already put them away1 and it needs not that ,i lay my bidding upon thee4 ,how is it that thou1 a man1 wouldst say coldly to the mind what ,god hath said to the heart warmly8 ,thy will was honest and wholesome2 but look well lest this also be folly1--to say1 ',i1 in doing this1 do strengthen ,god among men4' ,when at any time hath he cried unto thee1 saying1 ',my son1 lend me thy shoulder1 for ,i fall8' ,deemest thou that the men who enter ,god's temple in malice1 to the provoking of blood1 and neither for his love nor for his wrath will abate their purpose1--shall afterwards stand with thee in the porch1 midway between ,him and themselves1 to give ear unto thy thin voice1 which merely the fall of their visors can drown1 and to see thy hands1 stretched feebly1 tremble among their swords8 ,give thou to ,god no more than he asketh of thee2 but to man also1 that which is man's4 ,in all that thou doest1 work from thine own heart1 simply2 for his heart is as thine1 when thine is wise and humble2 and he shall have understanding of thee4 ,one drop of rain is as another1 and the sun's prism in all3 and shalt not thou be as he1 whose lives are the breath of ,one8 ,only by making thyself his equal can he learn to hold communion with thee1 and at last own thee above him4 ,not till thou lean over the water shalt thou see thine image therein3 stand erect1 and it shall slope from thy feet and be lost4 ,know that there is but this means whereby thou may'st serve ,god with man3--,set thine hand and thy soul to serve man with ,god4 ,and when she that spoke had said these words within ,chiaro's spirit1 she left his side quietly1 and stood up as he had first seen her2 with her fingers laid together1 and her eyes steadfast1 and with the breadth of her long dress covering her feet on the floor4 ,and1 speaking again1 she said3 ,chiaro1 servant of ,god1 take now thine ,art unto thee1 and paint me thus1 as ,i am1 to know me3 weak1 as ,i am1 and in the weeds of this time2 only with eyes which seek out labour1 and with a faith1 not learned1 yet jealous of prayer4 ,do this2 so shall thy soul stand before thee always1 and perplex thee no more4 ,and ,chiaro did as she bade him4 ,while he worked1 his face grew solemn with knowledge3 and before the shadows had turned1 his work was done4 ,having finished1 he lay back where he sat1 and was asleep immediately3 for the growth of that strong sunset was heavy about him1 and he felt weak and haggard2 like one just come out of a dusk1 hollow country1 bewildered with echoes1 where he had lost himself1 and who has not slept for many days and nights4 ,and when she saw him lie back1 the beautiful woman came to him1 and sat at his head1 gazing1 and quieted his sleep with her voice4 ,the tumult of the factions had endured all that day through all ,pisa1 though ,chiaro had not heard it3 and the last service of that ,feast was a mass sung at midnight from the windows of all the churches for the many dead who lay about the city1 and who had to be buried before morning1 because of the extreme heats4 99 99 99 99 99 99 99 ,in the ,spring of #ahdg ,i was at ,florence4 ,such as were there at the same time with myself--those1 at least1 to whom ,art is something1--will certainly recollect how many rooms of the ,pitti ,gallery were closed through that season1 in order that some of the pictures they contained might be examined1 and repaired without the necessity of removal4 ,the hall1 the staircases1 and the vast central suite of apartments1 were the only accessible portions2 and in these such paintings as they could admit from the sealed penetralia were profanely huddled together1 without respect of dates1 schools1 or persons4 ,i fear that1 through this interdict1 ,i may have missed seeing many of the best pictures4 ,i do not mean only the most talked of3 for these1 as they were restored1 generally found their way somehow into the open rooms1 owing to the clamours raised by the students2 and ,i remember how old ,ercoli's1 the curator's1 spectacles used to be mirrored in the reclaimed surface1 as he leaned mysteriously over these works with some of the visitors1 to scrutinize and elucidate4 ,one picture1 that ,i saw that ,spring1 ,i shall not easily forget4 ,it was among those1 ,i believe1 brought from the other rooms1 and had been hung1 obviously out of all chronology1 immediately beneath that head by ,raphael so long known as the ,berrettino1 and now said to be the portrait of ,cecco ,ciulli4 ,the picture ,i speak of is a small one1 and represents merely the figure of a woman1 clad to the hands and feet with a green and grey raiment1 chaste and early in its fashion1 but exceedingly simple4 ,she is standing3 her hands are held together lightly1 and her eyes set earnestly open4 ,the face and hands in this picture1 though wrought with great delicacy1 have the appearance of being painted at once1 in a single sitting3 the drapery is unfinished4 ,as soon as ,i saw the figure1 it drew an awe upon me1 like water in shadow4 ,i shall not attempt to describe it more than ,i have already done2 for the most absorbing wonder of it was its literality4 ,you knew that figure1 when painted1 had been seen2 yet it was not a thing to be seen of men4 ,this language will appear ridiculous to such as have never looked on the work2 and it may be even to some among those who have4 ,on examining it closely1 ,i perceived in one corner of the canvass the words ,manus ,animam pinxit1 and the date #abci4 ,i turned to my ,catalogue1 but that was useless1 for the pictures were all displaced4 ,i then stepped up to the ,cavaliere ,ercoli1 who was in the room at the moment1 and asked him regarding the subject of authorship of the painting4 ,he treated the matter1 ,i thought1 somewhat slightingly1 and said that he could show me the reference in the ,catalogue1 which he had compiled4 ,this1 when found1 was not of much value1 as it merely said1 ,schizzo d'autore incerto1 adding the inscription4#d ,i could willingly have prolonged my inquiry1 in the hope that it might somehow lead to some result2 but ,i had disturbed the curator from certain yards of ,guido1 and he was not communicative4 ,i went back therefore1 and stood before the picture till it grew dusk4 #d;,i should here say1 that in the catalogue for the year just over1 7owing1 as in cases before mentioned1 to the zeal and enthusiasm of ,dr4 ,aemmester7 this1 and several other pictures1 have been more competently entered4 ,the work in question is now placed in the ,sala ,sessagona1 a room ,i did not see--under the number #afa4 ,it is described as ,figura mistica di ,chiaro dell' ,erma1 and there is a brief notice of the author appended4 ,the next day ,i was there again2 but this time a circle of students was round the spot1 all copying the ,berrettino4 ,i contrived1 however1 to find a place whence ,i could see my picture1 and where ,i seemed to be in nobody's way4 ,for some minutes ,i remained undisturbed2 and then ,i heard1 in an ,english voice3 ,might ,i beg of you1 sir1 to stand a little more to this side1 as you interrupt my view4 ,i felt vext1 for1 standing where he asked me1 a glare struck on the picture from the windows1 and ,i could not see it4 ,however1 the request was reasonably made1 and from a countryman2 so ,i complied1 and turning away1 stood by his easel4 ,i knew it was not worth while2 yet ,i referred in some way to the work underneath the one he was copying4 ,he did not laugh1 but he smiled as we do in ,england3 ,very odd1 is it not8 said he4 ,the other students near us were all continental2 and seeing an ,englishman select an ,englishman to speak with1 conceived1 ,i suppose1 that he could understand no language but his own4 ,they had evidently been noticing the interest which the little picture appeared to excite in me4 ,one of them1 and ,italian1 said something to another who stood next to him4 ,he spoke with a ,genoese accent1 and ,i lost the sense in the villainous dialect4 ,che so8 replied the other1 lifting his eyebrows towards the figure2 roba mistica3 'st' ,inglesi son matti sul misticismo3 somiglia alle nebbie di l4 ,li fa pensare alla patria1 ,e intenerisce il core ,lo d ch' han detto ai dolci amici adio4 ,la notte1 vuoi dire1 said a third4 ,there was a general laugh4 ,my compatriot was evidently a novice in the language1 and did not take in what was said4 ,i remained silent1 being amused4 ,et toi donc8 said he who had quoted ,dante1 turning to a student1 whose birthplace was unmistakable even had he been addressed in any other language3 que dis-tu de ce genre-l8 ,moi8 returned the ,frenchman1 standing back from his easel1 and looking at me and at the figure1 quite politely1 though with an evident reservation3 ,je dis1 mon cher1 que c'est une spcialit dont je me fiche pas mal4 ,je tiens que quand on ne comprend pas une chose1 c'est qu' elle ne signifie rein4 ,my reader thinks possibly that the ,french student was right4 ,reviews ,the ,bothie of ,toper-na-fuosich3 a ,long-vacation ,pastoral4 ,by ,arthur ,hugh ,clough4 ,oxford3 ,macpherson4 ,london3 ,chapman and ,hall4--#ahdh ,the critic who should undertake to speak of all the poetry which issues from the press of these present days1 what is so called by courtesy as well as that which may claim the title as of right1 would impose on himself a task demanding no little labor1 and entailing no little disgust and weariness4 ,nor is the trouble well repaid4 ,more profit will not accrue to him who studies1 if the word can be used1 fifty of a certain class of versifiers1 than to him who glances over one3 and1 while a successful effort to warn such that poetry is not their proper sphere1 and that they must seek elsewhere for a vocation to work out1 might embolden a philanthropist to assume the position of scare-crow1 and drive away the unclean birds from the flowers and the green leaves2 on the other hand1 the small results which appear to have hitherto attended such endeavors are calculated rather to induce those who have yet made1 to relinquish them than to lead others to follow in the same track4 ,it is truly a disheartening task4 ,to the critic himself no good1 though some amusement occasionally1 can be expected3 to the criticised1 good but rarely1 for he is seldom convinced1 and annoyance and rancour almost of course2 and1 even in those few cases where the voice crying in the wilderness produces its effect1 the one thistle that abandons the attempt at bearing figs sees its neighbors still believing in their success1 and soon has its own place filled up4 ,the sentence of those who do not read is the best criticism on those who will not think4 ,it is acting on these considerations that we propose not to take count of any works that do not either show a purpose achieved or give promise of a worthy event2 while of such we hope to overlook none4 ,we believe it may safely be assumed that at no previous period has the public been more buzzed round by triviality and common-place2 but we hold firm1 at the same time1 that at none other has there been a greater or a grander body of genius1 or so honorable a display of well cultivated taste and talent4 ,certainly the public do not seem to know this3 certainly the critics deny it1 or rather speak as though they never contemplated that such a position would be advanced3 but1 if the fact be so1 it will make itself known1 and the poets of this day will assert themselves1 and take their places4 ,of these it is our desire to speak truthfully1 indeed1 and without compromise1 but always as bearing in mind that the inventor is more than the commentator1 and the book more than the notes2 and that1 if it is we who speak1 we do so not for ourselves1 nor as of ourselves4 ,the work of ,arthur ,hugh ,clough now before us1 7we feel warranted in the dropping of the ,mr4 even at his first work17 unites the most enduring forms of nature1 and the most unsophisticated conditions of life and character1 with the technicalities of speech1 of manners1 and of persons of an ,oxford reading party in the long vacation4 ,his hero is ,philip ,hewson1 the poet1 ,hewson1 the radical hot1 hating lords and scorning ladies2 and his heroine is no heroine1 but a woman1 ,elspie1 the quiet1 the brave4 ,the metre he has chosen1 the hexametral1 harmonises with the spirit of primitive simplicity in which the poem is conceived2 is itself a background1 as much as are ,knoydart1 ,croydart1 ,moydart1 ,morrer1 and ,ardnamurchan2 and gives a new individuality to the passages of familiar narrative and every day conversation4 ,it has an intrinsic appropriateness2 although1 at first thought of the subject1 this will1 perhaps1 be scarcely admitted of so old and so stately a rhythmical form4 ,as regards execution1 however1 there may be noted1 in qualification of much pliancy and vigour1 a certain air of experiment in occasional passages1 and a license in versification1 which more than warrants a warning to expect every kind of irregularity in these modern hexameters4 ,the following lines defy all efforts at reading in dactyls or spondees1 and require an almost complete transposition of accent4 ,there was a point which ,i forgot1 which our gallant ,highland homes have2-- ,while the little drunken ,piper came across to shake hands with ,lindsay3-- ,something of the world1 of men and women3 you will not refuse me4 ,in the first of these lines1 the omission of the former which1 would remove all objection2 and there are others where a final syllable appears clearly deficient2 as thus3-- ,only the road and larches and ruinous millstead between them3-- ,always welcome the stranger3 ,i may say1 delighted to see such ,fine young men3-- ,nay1 never talk3 listen now4 ,what ,i say you can't apprehend yet3-- ,laid her hand on her lap4 ,philip took it4 ,she did not resist him3-- ,yet the following would be scarcely improved by greater exactness3 ,roaring after their prey1 do seek their meat from ,god2 ,nor1 perhaps1 ought this to be made correct3 ,close as the bodies and intertwining limbs of athletic wrestlers4 ,the aspect of fact pervading the ,bothie of ,toper-na-fuosich1--7in ,english1 the hut of the bearded well1 a somewhat singular title1 to say the least17 is so strong and complete as to render necessary the few words of dedication1 where1 in inscribing the poem1 7or1 as the author terms it1 trifle17 to his long-vacation pupils1 he expresses a hope1 that they will not be displeased if1 in a fiction1 purely fiction1 they are here and there reminded of times enjoyed together4 ,as the story opens1 the ,oxford party are about to proceed to dinner at the place of the ,clansmen's meeting4 ,their characters1 discriminated with the nicest taste1 and perfectly worked out1 are thus introduced3 ,be it recorded in song who was first1 who last1 in dressing4 ,hope was the first1 black-tied1 white-waistcoated1 simple1 his ,honor2 ,for the postman made out he was a son to the ,earl of ,ilay1 7,as1 indeed1 he was to the younger brother1 the ,colonel72 ,treated him therefore with special respect1 doffed bonnet1 and ever ,called him his ,honor3 his ,honor he therefore was at the cottage2 ,always his ,honor at least1 sometimes the ,viscount of ,ilay4 ,hope was the first1 his ,honor2 and1 next to his ,honor1 the ,tutor4 ,still more plain the tutor1 the grave man nicknamed ,adam1 ,white-tied1 clerical1 silent1 with antique square-cut waistcoat1 ,formal1 unchanged1 of black cloth1 but with sense and feeling beneath it2 ,skilful in ethics and logic1 in ,pindar and poets unrivalled2 ,shady in ,latin1 said ,lindsay1 but topping in plays and ,aldrich4 ,somewhat more splendid in dress1 in a waistcoat of a lady1 ,lindsay succeeded1 the lively1 the cheery1 cigar-loving ,lindsay1 ,lindsay the ready of speech1 the ,piper1 the ,dialectician3 ,this was his title from ,adam1 because of the words he invented1 ,who in three weeks had created a dialect new for the party4 ,hewson and ,hobbes were down at the matutine bathing2 of course ,arthur ,audley1 the bather par excellence glory of headers3 ,arthur they called him for love and for euphony3 so were they bathing ,there where in mornings was custom1 where1 over a ledge of granite1 ,into a granite bason descended the amber torrent4 ,there were they bathing and dressing3 it was but a step from the cottage1 ,only the road and larches and ruinous millstead between4 ,hewson and ,hobbes followed quick upon ,adam2 on them followed ,arthur4 ,airlie descended the last1 splendescent as god of ,olympus4 ,when for ten minutes already the fourwheel had stood at the gateway2 ,he1 like a god1 came leaving his ample ,olympian chamber4--pp4 #e1 #f4 ,a peculiar point of style in this poem1 and one which gives a certain classic character to some of its more familiar aspects1 is the frequent recurrence of the same line1 and the repeated definition of a personage by the same attributes4 ,thus1 ,lindsay is the ,piper1 the ,dialectician1 ,arthur ,audley the glory of headers1 and the tutor the grave man nicknamed ,adam1 from beginning to end2 and so also of the others4 ,omitting the after-dinner speeches1 with their ,long constructions strange and plusquam-,thucydidean1 that only of ,sir ,hector1 the ,chief and the ,chairman2 in honor of the ,oxonians1 than which nothing could be more unpoetically truthful1 is preserved1 with the acknowledgment1 ending in a sarcasm at the game laws1 by ,hewson1 who1 as he is leaving the room1 is accosted by a thin man1 clad as the ,saxon3 ',young man1 if ye pass thro' the ,braes o',lochaber1 ,see by the ,loch-side ye come to the ,bothie of ,toper-na-fuosich4'--p4 #i4 ,throughout this scene1 as through the whole book1 no opportunity is overlooked for giving individuality to the persons introduced3 ,sir ,hector1 of whom we lose sight henceforward1 the attach1 the ,guards-man1 are not mere names1 but characters3 it is not enough to say that two tables were set apart for keeper and gillie and peasant3 there is something to be added yet2 and with others assembled around them were ,pipers five or six2 among them the young one1 the drunkard4 ,the morrow's conversation of the reading party turns on noble ladies and rustic girls1 their partners4 ,and here speaks out ,hewson the chartist3 ',never 7of course you will laugh1 but of course all the same ,i shall say it17 ,never1 believe me1 revealed itself to me the sexual glory1 ,till1 in some village fields1 in holidays now getting stupid1 ,one day sauntering long and listless1 as ,tennyson has it1 ,long and listless strolling1 ungainly in hobbydihoyhood1 ,chanced it my eye fell aside on a capless bonnetless maiden1 ,bending with three-pronged fork in a garden uprooting potatoes4 ,was it the air8 who can say8 or herself8 or the charm of the labor8 ,but a new thing was in me1 and longing delicious possessed me1 ,longing to take her and lift her1 and put her away from her slaving4 ,was it to clasp her in lifting1 or was it to lift her by clasping1 ,was it embracing or aiding was most in my mind8 ,hard question4 ,but a new thing was in me3 ,i too was a youth among maidens4 ,was it the air8 who can say8 ,but1 in part1 'twas the charm of the labor4' ,and he proceeds in a rapture to talk on the beauty of household service4 ,hereat ,arthur remarks3 ',is not all this just the same that one hears at common room breakfasts1 ,or perhaps ,trinity-wines1 about ,gothic buildings and beauty8'--p4 #ac4 ,the character of ,hobbes1 called into energy by this observation1 is perfectly developed in the lines succeeding3 ,and with a start from the sofa came ,hobbes2 with a cry from the sofa1 ,there where he lay1 the great ,hobbes1 contemplative1 corpulent1 witty2 ,author forgotten and silent of currentest phrase and fancy2 ,mute and exuberant by turns1 a fountain at intervals playing1 ,mute and abstracted1 or strong and abundant as rain in the tropics2 ,studious2 careless of dress2 inobservant2 by smooth persuasions ,lately decoyed into kilt on example of ,hope and the ,piper1 ,hope an ,antinous mere1 ,hyperion of calves the ,piper44444 ',ah6 could they only be taught1' he resumed1 'by a ,pugin of women ,how even churning and washing1 the dairy1 the scullery duties1 ,wait but a touch to redeem and convert them to charms and attractions2 ,scrubbing requires for true grace but frank and artistical handling1 ,and the removal of slops to be ornamentally treated6--pp4 #ac1 #ad4 ,here1 in the tutor's answer to ,hewson1 we come on the moral of the poem1 a moral to be pursued through commonplace lowliness of station and through high rank1 into the habit of life which would be1 in the one1 not petty1--in the other1 not overweening1--in any1 calm and dignified4 ',you are a boy2 when you grow to a man1 you'll find things alter4 ,you will learn to seek the good1 to scorn the attractive1 ,scorn all mere cosmetics1 as now of rank and fashion1 ,delicate hands1 and wealth1 so then of poverty also1 ,poverty truly attractive1 more truly1 ,i bear you witness4 ,good1 wherever found1 you will choose1 be it humble or stately1 ,happy if only you find1 and1 finding1 do not lose it4'--p4 #ad4 ,when the discussion is ended1 the party propose to separate1 some proceeding on their tour2 and ,philip ,hewson will be of these4 ',finally1 too1' from the kilt and the sofa said ,hobbes in conclusion1 ',finally ,philip must hunt for that home of the probable poacher1 ,hid in the ,braes of ,lochaber1 the ,bothie of what-did-he-call-it4 ,hopeless of you and of us1 of gillies and marquises hopeless1 ,weary of ethic and logic1 of rhetoric yet more weary1 ,there shall he1 smit by the charm of a lovely potatoe-uprooter1 ,study the question of sex in the ,bothie of what-did-he-call-it4'--p4#ah4 ,the action here becomes divided2 and1 omitting points of detail1 we must confine ourselves to tracing the development of the idea in which the subject of the poem consists4 ,philip and his companions1 losing their road1 are received at a farm1 where they stay for three days3 and this experience of himself begins4 ,he comes prepared2 and1 if he seems to love the golden-haired ,katie1 it is less that she is the youngest and comeliest daughter than because of her position1 and that in that she realises his preconceived wishes4 ,for three days he is with her and about her2 and he remains when his friends leave the farm-house4 ,but his love is no more than the consequence of his principles2 it is his own will unconsidered and but half understood4 ,and a letter to ,adam tells how it had an end3 ',i was walking along some two miles from the cottage1 ,full of my dreamings4 ,a girl went by in a party with others3 ,she had a cloak on1--was stepping on quickly1 for rain was beginning2 ,but1 as she passed1 from the hood ,i saw her eyes glance at me3-- ,so quick a glance1 so regardless ,i1 that1 altho' ,i felt it1 ,you couldn't properly say our eyes met2 she cast it1 and left it4 ,it was three minutes1 perhaps1 ere ,i knew what it was4 ,i had seen her ,somewhere before1 ,i am sure2 but that wasn't it1--not its import4 ,no2 it had seemed to regard me with simple superior insight1 ,quietly saying to herself3 ',yes1 there he is still in his fancy444444 ,doesn't yet see we have here just the things he is used to elsewhere1 ,and that the things he likes here1 elsewhere he wouldn't have looked at2 ,people here1 too1 are people1 and not as fairy-land creatures4 ,he is in a trance1 and possessed1--,i wonder how long to continue4 ,it is a shame and pity1--and no good likely to follow4'-- ,something like this2 but1 indeed1 ,i cannot the least define it4 ,only1 three hours thence1 ,i was off and away in the moor-land1 ,hiding myself from myself1 if ,i could1 the arrow within me4'--p4#bi4 ,philip ,hewson has been going on ,even as cloud passing subtly unseen from mountain to mountain1 ,leaving the crest of ,benmore to be palpable next on ,benvohrlich1 ,or like to hawk of the hill1 which ranges and soars in its hunting1 ,seen and unseen by turns4444444 ,and these are his words in the mountains3444444 ',surely the force that here sweeps me along in its violent impulse1 ,surely my strength shall be in her1 my help and protection about her1 ,surely in inner-sweet gladness and vigor of joy shall sustain her2 ,till1 the brief winter o'erpast1 her own true sap in the springtide ,rise1 and the tree ,i have bared be verdurous e'en as aforetime3 ,surely it may be1 it should be1 it must be4 ,yet1 ever and ever1 ',would ,i were dead1' ,i keep saying1 'that so ,i could go and uphold her4'--pp4 #bf1 #bg4 ,and1 meanwhile1 ,katie1 among the others1 is dancing and smiling still on some one who is to her all that ,philip had ever been4 ,when ,hewson writes next1 his experience has reached its second stage4 ,he is at ,balloch1 with the aunt and the cousin of his friend ,hope3 and the lady ,maria has made his beliefs begin to fail and totter1 and he feels for something to hold firmly4 ,he seems to think1 at one moment1 that the mere knowledge of the existence of such an one ought to compensate for lives of drudgery hemmed in with want2 then he turns round on himself with1 ,how shall that be8 ,and1 at length1 he appeases his questions1 saying that it must and should be so1 if it is4 ,after this1 come scraps of letters1 crossed and recrossed1 from the ,bothie of ,toper-na-fuosich4 ,in his travelling towards home1 a horse cast a shoe1 and the were directed to ,david ,mackaye4 ,hewson is still in the clachan hard by when he urges his friend to come to him3 and he comes4 ,there on the blank hill-side1 looking down through the loch to the ocean2 ,there1 with a runnel beside1 and pine-trees twain before it1 ,there1 with the road underneath1 and in sight of coaches and steamers1 ,dwelling of ,david ,mackaye and his daughters1 ,elspie and ,bella1 ,sends up a column of smoke the ,bothie of ,toper-na-fuosich44444 ,so on the road they walk1 by the shore of the salt sea-water1 ,silent a youth and maid1 the elders twain conversing4--pp4 #cf1 #cg4 ,ten more days1 with ,adam1 did ,philip abide at the changehouse2 ,ten more nights they met1 they walked with father and daughter4 ,ten more nights2 and1 night by night1 more distant away were ,philip and she2 every night less heedful1 by habit1 the father4--pp4 #ch1 #ci4 ,from this point1 we must give ourselves up to quotation2 and the narrow space remaining to us is our only apology to the reader for making any omission whatever in these extracts4 ,for she confessed1 as they sat in the dusk1 and he saw not her blushes1 ,elspie confessed1 at the sports1 long ago1 with her father1 she saw him1 ,when at the door the old man had told him the name of the ,bothie2 ,there1 after that1 at the dance2 yet again at the dance in ,rannoch2 ,and she was silent1 confused4 ,confused much rather ,philip ,buried his face in his hands1 his face that with blood was bursting4 ,silent1 confused2 yet by pity she conquered here fear1 and continued3 ',katie is good and not silly3 be comforted1 ,sir1 about her2 ,katie is good and not silly2 tender1 but not1 like many1 ,carrying off1 and at once1 for fear of being seen1 in the bosom ,locking up as in a cupboard1 the pleasure that any man gives them1 ,keeping it out of sight as a prize they need be ashamed of3 ,that is the way1 ,i think1 ,sir1 in ,england more than in ,scotland4 ,no2 she lives and takes pleasure in all1 as in beautiful weather2 ,sorry to lose it2 but just as we would be to lose fine weather44444 ,there were at least five or six1--not there2 no1 that ,i don't say1 ,but in the country about1--you might just as well have been courting4 ,that was what gave me much pain2 and 7you won't remember that tho'71 ,three days after1 ,i met you1 beside my ,uncle's walking2 ,and ,i was wondering much1 and hoped you wouldn't notice2 ,so1 as ,i passed1 ,i couldn't help looking4 ,you didn't know me2 ,but ,i was glad when ,i heard1 next day1 you were gone to the teacher4' ,and1 uplifting his face at last1 with eyes dilated1 ,large as great stars in mist1 and dim with dabbled lashes4 ,philip1 with new tears starting1 ',you think ,i do not remember1' ,said1 'suppose that ,i did not observe4 ,ah me6 shall ,i tell you8 ,elspie1 it was your look that sent me away from ,rannoch4'4444 ,and he continued more firmly1 altho' with stronger emotion4 ',elspie1 why should ,i speak it8 ,you cannot believe it1 and should not4 ,why should ,i say that ,i love1 which ,i all but said to another8 ,yet1 should ,i dare1 should ,i say1 ,oh ,elspie you only ,i love1 you1 ,first and sole in my life that has been1 and surely that shall be2 ,could1 oh could1 you believe it1 oh ,elspie1 believe it1 and spurn not8 ,is it possible1--possible1 ,elspie8' ',well1' she answered1 ,quietly1 after her fashion1 still knitting2 ',well1 ,i think of it4 ,yes1 ,i don't know1 ,mr4 ,philip2 but only it feels to me strangely1-- ,like to the high new bridge they used to build at1 below there1 ,over the burn and glen1 on the road4 ,you won't understand me44444 ,sometimes ,i find myself dreaming at nights about arches and bridges2 ,sometimes ,i dream of a great invisible hand coming down1 and ,dropping a great key-stone in the middle4'4444 ,but while she was speaking1-- ,so it happened1--a moment she paused from her work1 and1 pondering1 ,laid her hand on her lap4 ,philip took it1 she did not resist4 ,so he retained her fingers1 the knitting being stopped4 ,but emotion ,came all over her more and more1 from his hand1 from her heart1 and ,most from the sweet idea and image her brain was renewing4 ,so he retained her hand1 and1 his tears down-dropping on it1 ,trembling a long time1 kissed it at last3 and she ended4 ,and1 as she ended1 up rose he1 saying3 ',what have ,i heard8 ,oh6 ,what have ,i done1 that such words should be said to me8 ,oh6 ,i see it1 ,see the great key-stone coming down from the heaven of heavens4' ,and he fell at her feet1 and buried his face in her apron4 ,but1 as1 under the moon and stars1 they went to the cottage1 ,elspie sighed and said3 ',be patient1 dear ,mr4 ,philip2 ,do not do anything hasty4 ,it is all so soon1 so sudden4 ,do not say anything yet to any one4' ',elspie1' he answered1 ,does not my friend go on ,friday8 ,i then shall see nothing of you3 ,do not ,i myself go on ,monday8 ',but oh6' he said1 ',elspie1 ,do as ,i bid you1 my child2 do not go on calling me ,mr4 ,might ,i not just as well be calling you ,miss ,elspie8 ,call me1 this heavenly night1 for once1 for the first time1 ,philip4' ',philip1' she said1 and laughed1 and said she could not say it4 ',philip1' she said4 ,he turned1 and kissed the sweet lips as they said it4 ,but1 on the morrow1 ,elspie kept out of the way of ,philip2 ,and1 at the evening seat1 when he took her hand by the alders1 ,drew it back1 saying1 almost peevishly3 ',no1 ,mr4 ,philip2 ,i was quite right last night3 it is too soon1 too sudden1 ,what ,i told you before was foolish1 perhaps1--was hasty4 ,when ,i think it over1 ,i am shocked and terrified at it4'4444 ,ere she had spoken two words1 had ,philip released her fingers2 ,as she went on1 he recoiled1 fell back1 and shook1 and shivered4 ,there he stood1 looking pale and ghastly2 when she had ended1 ,answering in a hollow voice3 ',it is true2 oh6 quite true1 ,elspie4 ,oh6 you are always right2 oh6 what1 what1 have ,i been doing8 ,i will depart to-morrow4 ,but oh6 forget me not wholly1 ,wholly1 ,elspie1 nor hate me2 no1 do not hate me1 my ,elspie4' ,but a revulsion passed thro' the brain and bosom of ,elspie2 ,and she got up from her seat on the rock1 putting by her knitting1 ,went to him where he stood1 and answered3 ',no1 ,mr4 ,philip3 ,no2 you are good1 ,mr4 ,philip1 and gentle2 and ,i am the foolish3 ,no1 ,mr4 ,philip2 forgive me4' ,she stepped right to him1 and boldly ,took up his hand1 and placed it in her's1 he daring no movement2 ,took up the cold hanging hand1 up-forcing the heavy elbow4 ',i am afraid1' she said2 'but ,i will2' and kissed the fingers4 ,and he fell on his knees1 and kissed her own past counting444444 ,as he was kissing her fingers1 and knelt on the ground before her1 ,yielding1 backward she sank to her seat1 and1 of what she was doing ,ignorant1 bewildered1 in sweet multitudinous vague emotion1 ,stooping1 knowing not what1 put her lips to the curl on his forehead4 ,and ,philip1 raising himself1 gently1 for the first time1 round her ,passing his arms1 close1 close1 enfolded her close to his bosom4 ,as they went home by the moon1 ',forgive me1 ,philip1' she whispered3 ',i have so many things to talk of all of a sudden1 ,i who have never once thought a thing in my ignorant ,highlands4' --pp4 #ci-dd4 ,we may spare criticism here1 for what reader will not have felt such poetry8 ,there is something in this of the very tenderness of tenderness2 this is true delicacy1 fearless and unembarrassed4 ,here it seems almost captious to object3 perhaps1 indeed1 it is rather personal whim than legitimate criticism which makes us take some exception at the curl on his forehead2 yet somehow there seems a hint in it of the pet curate4 ,elspie's doubts now return upon her with increased force2 and it is not till after many conversations with the teacher that she allows her resolve to be fixed4 ,so1 at last1 ,there1 upon ,saturday eve1 in the gorgeous bright ,october1 ,under that alders knitting1 gave ,elspie her troth to ,philip4 ,and1 after their talk1 she feels strong again1 and fit to be his4--,then they rise4 ',but we must go1 ,mr4 ,philip4' ',i shall not go at all1' said ,he1 ',if you call me ,mr4 ,thank ,heaven6 that's well over6' ',no1 but it's not1' she said2 'it is not over1 nor will be4 ,was it not1 then1' she asked1 'the name ,i called you first by8 ,no1 ,mr4 ,philip1 no4 ,you have kissed me enough for two nights4 ,no4--,come1 ,philip1 come1 or ,i'll go myself without you4' ',you never call me ,philip1' he answered1 'until ,i kiss you4' --pp4 #dg1 #dh4 ,david ,mackaye gives his consent2 but first ,hewson must return to ,college1 and study for a year4 ,his views have not been stationary4 ,to his old scorn for the idle of the earth had succeeded the surprise that overtook him at ,balloch3 and he would now hold to his creed1 yet not as rejecting his experience4 ,some1 he says1 were made for use2 others for ornament2 but let these be so made1 of a truth1 and not such as find themselves merely thrust into exemption from labor4 ,let each know his place1 and take it1 ,for it is beautiful only to do the thing we are meant for4 ,and of his friend urging ,providence he can only1 while answering that doubtless he must be in the right1 ask where the limit comes between circumstance and ,providence1 and can but wish for a great cause1 and the trumpet that should call him to ,god's battle1 whereas he sees ,only infinite jumble and mess and dislocation1 ,backed by a solemn appeal1 ',for ,god's sake1 do not stir there4' ,and the year is now out4 ,philip returned to his books1 but returned to his ,highlands after4444 ,there in the bright ,october1 the gorgeous bright ,october1 ,when the brackens are changed1 and heather blooms are faded1 ,and1 amid russet of heather and fern1 green trees are bonnie1 ,there1 when shearing had ended1 and barley-stooks were garnered1 ,david gave ,philip to wife his daughter1 his darling ,elspie2 ,elspie1 the quiet1 the brave1 was wedded to ,philip1 the poet44444 ,so won ,philip his bride4 ,they are married1 and gone to ,new ,zealand4 ,five hundred pounds in pocket1 with books and two or three pictures1 ,tool-box1 plough1 and the rest1 they rounded the sphere to ,new ,zealand4 ,there he hewed and dug2 subdued the earth and his spirit4 --pp4 #eb-ee4 ,among the prominent attributes of this poem is its completeness4 ,the elaboration1 not only of character and of mental discipline1 but of incident also1 is unbroken4 ,the absences of all mention of ,elspie in the opening scene and again at the dance at ,rannoch may at first seem to be a failure in this respect2 but second thoughts will show it to be far otherwise3 for1 in the former case1 her presence would not have had any significance for ,hewson1 and1 in the latter1 would have been overlooked by him save so far as might warrant a future vague recollection1 pre-occupied as his eyes and thoughts were by another4 ,there is one condition still under which we have as yet had little opportunity of displaying this quality2 but it will be found to be as fully carried out in the descriptions of nature4 ,in the first of our extracts the worlds are few1 but stand for many4 ,mely glen1 the heart of ,lochiel's fair forest1 ,where ,scotch firs are darkest and amplest1 and intermingle ,grandly with rowan and ash2--in ,mar you have no ashes2 ,there the pine is alone or relieved by birch and alder4--p4 #bb4 ,in the next mere sound and the names go far towards the entire effect2 but not so far as to induce any negligence in essential details3 ,as1 at return of tide1 the total weight of ocean1 ,drawn by moon and sun from ,labrador and ,greenland1 ,sets in amain in the open space betwixt ,mull and ,scarfa1 ,heaving1 swelling1 spreading1 the might of the mighty ,atlantic2 ,there into cranny and slit of the rocky cavernous bottom ,settles down2 and with dimples huge the smooth sea-surface ,eddies1 coils1 and whirls1 and dangerous ,corryvreckan4--p4 #eb4 ,two more passages1 and they must suffice as examples4 ,here the isolation is perfect2 but it is the isolation1 not of the place and the actors only2 it is1 as it were1 almost our own in an equal degree2 ,ourselves too seeming ,not as spectators1 accepted into it1 immingled1 as truly ,part of it as are the kine of the field lying there by the birches4 ,there1 across the great rocky wharves a wooden bridge goes1 ,carrying a path to the forest2 below1--three hundred yards1 say1-- ,lower in level some twenty-five feet1 thro' flats of shingle1 ,stepping-stones and a cart-track cross in the open valley4 ,but1 in the interval here1 the boiling pent-up water ,frees itself by a final descent1 attaining a bason ,ten feet wide and eighteen long1 with whiteness and fury ,occupied partly1 but mostly pellucid1 pure1 a mirror2 ,beautiful there for the color derived from green rocks under2 ,beautiful most of all where beads of foam uprising ,mingle their clouds of white with the delicate hue of the stillness4 ,cliff over cliff for its sides1 with rowan and pendent birch-boughs1 ,here it lies1 unthought of above at the bridge and pathway1 ,still more concealed from below by wood and rocky projection4 ,you are shut in1 left alone with yourself and perfection of water1 ,hid on all sides1 left alone with yourself and the goddess of bathing4-- ,so they bathed1 they read1 they roamed in glen and forest2 ,far amid blackest pines to the waterfall they shadow1 ,far up the long long glen to the loch1 and the loch beyond it ,deep under huge red cliffs1 a secret4 ,in many of the images of this poem1 as also in the volume ,ambarvalia1 the joint production of ,clough and ,thomas ,burbidge1 there is a peculiar moderness1 a reference distinctly to the means and habits of society in these days1 a recognition of every-day fact1 and a willingness to believe it as capable of poetry as that which1 but for having once been fact1 would not now be tradition4 ,there is a certain special character in passages like the following1 the familiarity of the matter blending with the remoteness of the form of metre1 such as should not be overlooked in attempting to estimate the author's mind and views of art3 ,still1 as before 7and as now71 balls1 dances1 and evening parties14444 ,seemed like a sort of unnatural up-in-the-air balloon work14444 ,as mere gratuitous trifling in presence of business and duty ,as does the turning aside of the tourist to look at a landscape ,seem in the steamer or coach to the merchant in haste for the city4 --p4 #ab4 ,i was as one that sleeps on the railway2 one who1 dreaming1 ,hears thro' his dream the name of his home shouted out1--hears and hears not1 ,faint1 and louder again1 and less loud1 dying in distance1-- ,dimly conscious1 with something of inward debate and choice1 and ,sense of present claim and reality present2 relapses1 ,nevertheless1 and continues the dream and fancy1 while forward1 ,swiftly1 remorseless1 the car presses on1 he knows not whither4 --p4#ch4 ,indeed1 the general adaptation of the style to the immediate matter1 the alternation of the poetic and the familiar1 with a certain mixture even of classical phrase and allusion1 is highly appropriate1 and may almost be termed constant1 except in occasional instances where more poetry1 and especially more conception and working out of images1 is introduced than squares with a strict observance of nature4 ,thus the lines quoted where ,elspie applies to herself the incident of the high new bridge and the great key-stone in the middle are succeeded by others 7omitted in our extract7 where the idea is followed into its details2 and there is another passage in which1 through no less than seventeen lines1 she compares herself to an inland stream disturbed and hurried on by the mingling with it of the sea's tide4 ,thus also one of the most elaborate descriptions in the poem1--an episode in itself of the extremest beauty and finish1 but1 as we think1 clearly misplaced1--is a picture of the dawn over a great city1 introduced into a letter of ,philip's1 and that1 too1 simply as an image of his own mental condition4 ,there are but few poets for whom it would be superfluous to reflect whether pieces of such-like mere poetry might not more properly form part of the descriptive groundwork1 and be altogether banished from discourse and conversation1 where the greater amount of their intrinsic care and excellence becomes1 by its position1 a proportionally increasing load of disregard for truthfulness4 ,for a specimen of a peculiarly noble spirit which pervades the whole work1 we would refer the reader to the character of ,arthur ,audley1 unnecessary to the story1 but most important to the sentiment2 for a comprehensive instance of minute feeling for individuality1 to the narrative of ,lindsay and the corrections of ,arthur on returning from their tour4 ,he to the great might have been upsoaring1 sublime and ideal2 ,he to the merest it was restricting1 diminishing1 dwarfing2 ,for pleasant ingenuity1 involving1 too1 a point of character1 to the final letter of ,hobbes to ,philip1 wherein1 in a manner made up of playful subtlety and real poetical feeling1 he proves how this ,rachel and ,leah is marriage4 ,the ,bothie of ,toper-na-fuosich will not1 it is to be feared1 be extensively read2 its length combined with the metre in which it is written1 or indeed a first hasty glance at the contents1 does not allure the majority even of poetical readers2 but it will not be left or forgotten by such as fairly enter upon it4 ,this is a poem essentially thought and studied1 if not while in the act of writing1 at least as the result of a condition of mind2 and the author owes it to the appreciations of all into whose hands it shall come1 and who are willing to judge for themselves1 to call it1 should a second edition appear1 by its true name2--not a trifle1 but a work4 ,that public attention should have been so little engaged by this poem is a fact in one respect somewhat remarkable1 as contrasting with the notice which the ,ambarvalia has received4 ,nevertheless1 independently of the greater importance of the ,bothie in length and development1 it must1 we think1 be admitted to be written on sounder and more matured principles of taste1--the style being sufficiently characterized and distinctive without special prominence1 whereas not a few of the poems in the other volume are examples rather of style than of thought1 and might be held in recollection on account of the former quality alone4 ,her ,first ,season ,he gazed her over1 from her eyebrows down ,even to her feet3 he gazed so with the good ,undoubting faith of fools1 much as who should ,accost ,god for a comrade4 ,in the brown ,of all her curls he seemed to think the town ,would make an acquisition2 but her hood ,was not the newest fashion1 and his brood ,of lady-friends might scarce approve her gown4 ,if ,i did smile1 'twas faintly2 for my cheeks ,burned1 thinking she'd be shown up to be sold1 ,and cried about1 in the thick jostling run ,of the loud world1 till all the weary weeks ,should bring her back to herself and to the old ,familiar face of nature and the sun4 ,a ,sketch ,from ,nature ,the air blows pure1 for twenty miles1 ,over this vast countri3 ,over hill and wood and vale1 it goeth1 ,over steeple1 and stack1 and tree3 ,and there's not a bird on the wind but knoweth ,how sweet these meadows be4 ,the swallows are flying beside the wood1 ,and the corbies are hoarsely crying2 ,and the sun at the end of the earth hath stood1 ,and1 thorough the hedge and over the road1 ,on the grassy slope is lying3 ,and the sheep are taking their supper-food ,while yet the rays are dying4 ,sleepy shadows are filling the furrows1 ,and giant-long shadows the trees are making2 ,and velvet soft are the woodland tufts1 ,and misty-gray the low-down crofts2 ,but the aspens there have gold-green tops1 ,and the gold-green tops are shaking3 ,the spires are white in the sun's last light2-- ,and yet a moment ere he drops1 ,gazes the sun on the golden slopes4 ,two sheep1 afar from fold1 ,are on the hill-side straying1 ,with backs all silver1 breasts all gold3 ,the merle is something saying1 ,something very very sweet3-- ',the day--the day--the day is done3' ,there answereth a single bleat-- ,the air is cold1 the sky is dimming1 ,and clouds are long like fishes swimming4 ,sydenham ,wood1 #ahdi4 ,an ,end ,love1 strong as death1 is dead4 ,come1 let us make his bed ,among the dying flowers3 ,a green turf at his head2 ,and a stone at his feet1 ,whereon we may sit ,in the quiet evening hours4 ,he was born in the spring1 ,and died before the harvesting4 ,on the last warm summer day ,he left us2--he would not stay ,for autumn twilight cold and grey ,sit we by his grave and sing ,he is gone away4 ,to few chords1 and sad1 and low1 ,sing we so4 ,be our eyes fixed on the grass1 ,shadow-veiled1 as the years pass1 ,while we think of all that was ,in the long ago4 ,published ,monthly1 price #as4 ,this ,periodical will consist of original ,poems1 ,stories to develope thought and principle1 ,essays concerning ,art and other subjects1 and analytic ,reviews of current ,literature--particularly of ,poetry4 ,each number will also contain an ,etching2 the subject to be taken from the opening article of the month4 ,an attempt will be made1 both intrinsically and by review1 to claim for ,poetry that place to which its present development in the literature of this country so emphatically entitles it4 ,the endeavour held in view throughout the writings on ,art will be to encourage and enforce an entire adherence to the simplicity of nature2 and also to direct attention1 as an auxiliary medium1 to the comparatively few works which ,art has yet produced in this spirit4 ,it need scarcely be added that the chief object of the etched designs will be to illustrate this aim practically1 as far as the method of execution will permit2 in which purpose they will be produced with the utmost care and completeness4 ,no4 #b4 7,price ,one ,shilling47 ,,february1 #ahej4 ,with an ,etching by ,,james ,,collinson4 ,the ,germ3 ,thoughts towards ,nature ,in ,poetry1 ,literature1 and ,art4 ,when whoso merely hath a little thought ,will plainly think the thought which is in him1-- ,not imaging another's bright or dim1 ,not mangling with new words what others taught2 ,when whoso speaks1 from having either sought ,or only found1--will speak1 not just to skim ,a shallow surface with words made and trim1 ,but in that very speech the matter brought3 ,be not too keen to cry--,so this is all6-- ,a thing ,i might myself have thought as well1 ,but would not say it1 for it was not worth6 ,ask3 ,is this truth8 ,for is it still to tell ,that1 be the theme a point or the whole earth1 ,truth is a circle1 perfect1 great or small8 ,london3 ,,aylott ,,jones1 #h1 ,,paternoster ,,row4 ,g4 ,f ,tupper1 ,printer1 ,clement's ,lane4 ,lombard ,street4 ,,contents4 ,the ,child ,jesus3 by ,james ,collinson #di ,a ,pause of ,thought3 by ,ellen ,alleyn #eg ,the ,purpose and ,tendency of ,early ,italian ,art3 by ,john ,seward #eh ,song3 by ,ellen ,alleyn #fd ,morning ,sleep3 by ,wm4 ,b4 ,scott #fe ,sonnet3 by ,calder ,campbell #fh ,stars and ,moon #fi ,on the ,mechanism of a ,historical ,picture3 by ,f4 ,madox ,brown #gj ,a ,testimony3 by ,ellen ,alleyn #gc ,o ,when and ,where3 by ,thomas ,woolner #ge ,fancies at ,leisure3 by ,wm4 ,m4 ,rossetti #gf ,the ,sight ,beyond3 by ,walter ,h4 ,deverell #gi ,the ,blessed ,damozel3 by ,dante ,g4 ,rossetti #hj ,,reviews3 ,the ,strayed ,reveller1 and other ,poems3 by ,wm4 ,m4 ,rossetti #hd ,to ,correspondents4 ,all persons from whom ,communications have been received1 and who have not been otherwise replied to1 are requested to accept the ,editor's acknowledgments4 ,illustration3 ,ex ore infantiam et lartentium pertecizli laudem4 ,the ,child ,jesus ,o all ye that pass by the way1 attend and see if there be any sorrow like to my sorrow4-- ,lamentations i4#ab4 ,i4 ,the ,agony in the ,garden ,joseph1 a carpenter of ,nazareth1 ,and his wife ,mary had an only child1 ,jesus3 ,one holy from his mother's womb4 ,both parents loved him3 ,mary's heart alone ,beat with his blood1 and1 by her love and his1 ,she knew that ,god was with her1 and she strove ,meekly to do the work appointed her2 ,to cherish him with undivided care ,who deigned to call her mother1 and who loved ,from her the name of son4 ,and ,mary gave ,her heart to him1 and feared not2 yet she seemed ,to hold as sacred that he said or did2 ,and1 unlike other women1 never spake ,his words of innocence again2 but all ,were humbly treasured in her memory ,with the first secret of his birth4 ,so strong ,grew her affection1 as the child increased ,in wisdom and in stature with his years1 ,that many mothers wondered1 saying3 ,these ,our little ones claim in our hearts a place ,the next to ,god2 but ,mary's tenderness ,grows almost into reverence for her child4 ,is he not of herself8 ,i' the temple when ,kneeling to pray1 on him she bends her eyes1 ,as though ,god only heard her prayer through him4 ,is he to be a prophet8 ,nay1 we know ,that out of ,galilee no prophet comes4 ,but all their children made the boy their friend4 ,three cottages that overlooked the sea ,stood side by side eastward of ,nazareth4 ,behind them rose a sheltering range of cliffs1 ,purple and yellow1 verdure-spotted1 red1 ,layer upon layer built up against the sky4 ,in front a row of sloping meadows lay1 ,parted by narrow streams1 that rose above1 ,leaped from the rocks1 and cut the sands below ,into deep channels widening to the sea4 ,within the humblest of these three abodes ,dwelt ,joseph1 his wife ,mary1 and their child4 ,a honeysuckle and a moss-rose grew1 ,with many blossoms1 on their cottage front2 ,and o'er the gable warmed by the ,south ,a sunny grape vine broadened shady leaves ,which gave its tendrils shelter1 as they hung ,trembling upon the bloom of purple fruit4 ,and1 like the wreathed shadows and deep glows ,which the sun spreads from some old oriel ,upon the marble ,altar and the gold ,of ,god's own ,tabernacle1 where he dwells ,for ever1 so the blossoms and the vine1 ,on ,jesus' home climbing above the roof1 ,traced intricate their windings all about ,the yellow thatch1 and part concealed the nests ,whence noisy close-housed sparrows peeped unseen4 ,and ,joseph had a little dove-cote placed ,between the gable-window and the eaves1 ,where two white turtle doves 7a gift of love ,from ,mary's kinsman ,zachary to her child7 ,cooed pleasantly2 and broke upon the ear ,the ever dying sound of falling waves4 ,and so it came to pass1 one ,summer morn1 ,the mother dove first brought her fledgeling out ,to see the sun4 ,it was her only one1 ,and she had breasted it through three long weeks ,with patient instinct till it broke the shell2 ,and she had nursed it with all tender care1 ,another three1 and watched the white down grow ,into full feather1 till it left her nest4 ,and now it stood outside its narrow home1 ,with tremulous wings let loose and blinking eyes2 ,while1 hovering near1 the old dove often tried ,by many lures to tempt it to the ground1 ,that they might feed from ,jesus' hand1 who stood ,watching them from below4 ,the timid bird ,at last took heart1 and1 stretching out its wings1 ,brushed the light vine-leaves as it fluttered down4 ,just then a hawk rose from a tree1 and thrice ,wheeled in the air1 and poised his aim to drop ,on the young dove1 whose quivering plumage swelled ,about the sunken talons as it died4 ,then the hawk fixed his round eye on the child1 ,shook from his beak the stained down1 screamed1 and flapped ,his broad arched wings1 and1 darting to a cleft ,i' the rocks1 there sullenly devoured his prey4 ,and ,jesus heard the mother's anguished cry1 ,weak like the distant sob of some lost child1 ,who in his terror runs from path to path1 ,doubtful alike of all2 so did the dove1 ,as though death-stricken1 beat about the air2 ,till1 settling on the vine1 she drooped her head ,deep in her ruffled feathers4 ,she sat there1 ,brooding upon her loss1 and did not move ,all through that day4 ,and1 sitting by her1 covered up his face3 ,until a cloud1 alone between the earth ,and sun1 passed with its shadow over him4 ,then ,jesus for a moment looked above2 ,and a few drops of rain fell on his brow1 ,sad1 as with broken hints of a lost dream1 ,or dim foreboding of some future ill4 ,now1 from a garden near1 a fair-haired girl ,came1 carrying a handful of choice flowers1 ,which in her lap she sorted orderly1 ,as little children do at ,easter-time ,to have all seemly when their ,lord shall rise4 ,then ,jesus' covered face she gently raised1 ,placed in his hand the flowers1 and kissed his cheek ,and tried with soothing words to comfort him2 ,he from his eyes spoke thanks4 ,fast trickling down his face1 drop upon drop1 ,fell to the ground4 ,that sad look left him not ,till night brought sleep1 and sleep closed o'er his woe4 ,,ii4 ,the ,scourging ,again there came a day when ,mary sat ,within the latticed doorway's fretted shade1 ,working in bright and many colored threads ,a girdle for her child1 who at her feet ,lay with his gentle face upon her lap4 ,both little hands were crossed and tightly clasped ,around her knee4 ,on them the gleams of light ,which broke through overhanging blossoms warm1 ,and cool transparent leaves1 seemed like the gems ,which deck ,our ,lady's shrine when incense-smoke ,ascends before her1 like them1 dimly seen ,behind the stream of white and slanting rays ,which came from heaven1 as a veil of light1 ,across the darkened porch1 and glanced upon ,the threshold-stone2 and here a moth1 just born ,to new existence1 stopped upon her flight1 ,to bask her blue-eyed scarlet wings spread out ,broad to the sun on ,jesus' naked foot1 ,advancing its warm glow to where the grass1 ,trimmed neatly1 grew around the cottage door4 ,and the child1 looking in his mother's face1 ,would join in converse upon holy things ,with her1 or1 lost in thought1 would seem to watch ,the orange-belted wild bees when they stilled ,their hum1 to press with honey-searching trunk ,the juicy grape2 or drag their waxed legs ,half buried in some leafy cool recess ,found in a rose2 or else swing heavily ,upon the bending woodbine's fragrant mouth1 ,and rob the flower of sweets to feed the rock1 ,where1 in a hazel-covered crag aloft ,parting two streams that fell in mist below1 ,the wild bees ranged their waxen vaulted cells4 ,as the time passed1 an ass's yearling colt1 ,bearing a heavy load1 came down the lane ,that wound from ,nazareth by ,joseph's house1 ,sloping down to the sands4 ,and two young men1 ,the owners of the colt1 with many blows ,from lash and goad wearied its patient sides2 ,urging it past its strength1 so they might win ,unto the beach before a ship should sail4 ,passing the door1 the ass turned round its head1 ,and looked on ,jesus3 and he knew the look2 ,and1 knowing it1 knew too the strange dark cross ,laying upon its shoulders and its back4 ,it was a foal of that same ass which bare ,the infant and the mother1 when they fled ,to ,egypt from the edge of ,herod's sword4 ,and ,jesus watched them1 till they reached the sands4 ,then1 by his mother sitting down once more1 ,once more there came that shadow of deep grief ,upon his brow when ,mary looked at him3 ,and she remembered it in days that came4 ,,iii4 ,the ,crowning with ,thorns ,and the time passed4 ,the child sat by himself upon the beach1 ,while ,joseph's barge freighted with heavy wood1 ,bound homewards1 slowly labored thro' the calm4 ,and1 as he watched the long waves swell and break1 ,run glistening to his feet1 and sink again1 ,three children1 and then two1 with each an arm ,around the other1 throwing up their songs1 ,such happy songs as only children know1 ,came by the place where ,jesus sat alone4 ,but1 when they saw his thoughtful face1 they ceased1 ,and1 looking at each other1 drew near him2 ,while one who had upon his head a wreath ,of hawthorn flowers1 and in his hand a reed1 ,put these both from him1 saying1 ,here is one ,whom you shall all prefer instead of me ,to be our king2 and then he placed the wreath ,on ,jesus' brow1 who meekly bowed his head4 ,and1 when he took the reed1 the children knelt1 ,and cast their simple offerings at his feet3 ,and1 almost wondering why they loved him so1 ,kissed him with reverence1 promising to yield ,grave fealty4 ,and ,jesus did return ,their childish salutations2 and they passed ,singing another song1 whose music chimed ,with the sea's murmur1 like a low sweet chant ,chanted in some wide church to ,jesus ,christ4 ,and ,jesus listened till their voices sank ,behind the jutting rocks1 and died away3 ,then the wave broke1 and ,jesus felt alone4 ,who being alone1 on his fair countenance ,and saddened beauty all unlike a child's ,the sun of innocence did light no smile1 ,as on the group of happy faces gone4 ,,iv4 ,jesus ,carrying his ,cross ,and1 when the barge arrived1 and ,joseph bare ,the wood upon his shoulders1 piece by piece1 ,up to his shed1 ,jesus ran by his side1 ,yearning for strength to help the aged man ,who tired himself with work all day for him4 ,but ,joseph said3 ,my child1 it is ,god's will ,that ,i should work for thee until thou art ,of age to help thyself4--,bide thou his time ,which cometh--when thou wilt be strong enough1 ,and on thy shoulders bear a tree like this4 ,so1 while he spake1 he took the last one up1 ,settling it with heaved back1 fetching his breath4 ,then ,jesus lifted deep prophetic eyes ,full in the old man's face1 but nothing said1 ,running still on to open first the door4 ,v4 ,the ,crucifixion ,joseph had one ewe-sheep2 and she brought forth1 ,early one season1 and before her time1 ,a weakly lamb4 ,it chanced to be upon ,jesus' birthday1 when he was eight years old4 ,so ,mary said--,we'll name it after him1-- 7,because she ever thought to please her child7-- ,and we will sign it with a small red cross ,upon the back1 a mark to know it by4 ,and ,jesus loved the lamb2 and1 as it grew ,spotless and pure and loving like himself1 ,white as the mother's milk it fed upon1 ,he gave not up his care1 till it became ,of strength enough to browse and then1 because ,joseph had no land of his own1 being poor1 ,he sent away the lamb to feed amongst ,a neighbour's flock some distance from his home2 ,where ,jesus went to see it every day4 ,one late ,spring eve1 their daily work being done1 ,mother and child1 according to their wont1 ,went1 hand in hand1 their chosen evening walk4 ,a pleasant wind rose from the sea1 and blew ,light flakes of waving silver o'er the fields ,ready for mowing1 and the golden ,west ,warmed half the sky3 the low sun flickered through ,the hedge-rows1 as they passed2 while hawthorn trees ,scattered their snowy leaves and scent around4 ,the sloping woods were rich in varied leaf1 ,and musical in murmur and in song4 ,long ere they reached the field1 the wistful lamb ,saw them approach1 and ran from side to side ,the gate1 pushing its eager face between ,the lowest bars1 and bleating for pure joy4 ,and ,jesus1 kneeling by it1 fondled with ,the little creature1 that could scarce find how ,to show its love enough2 licking his hands1 ,then1 starting from him1 gambolled back again1 ,and1 with its white feet upon ,jesus' knees1 ,nestled its head by his3 and1 as the sun ,sank down behind them1 broadening as it neared ,the low horizon1 ,mary thought it seemed ,to clothe them like a glory4--,but her look ,grew thoughtful1 and she said3 ,i had1 last night1 ,a wandering dream4 ,this brings it to my mind2 ,and ,i will tell it thee as we walk home4 ,i dreamed a weary way ,i had to go ,alone1 across an unknown land3 such wastes ,we sometimes see in visions of the night1 ,barren and dimly lighted4 ,there was not ,a tree in sight1 save one seared leafless trunk1 ,like a rude cross2 and1 scattered here and there1 ,a shrivelled thistle grew3 the grass was dead1 ,and the starved soil glared through its scanty tufts ,in bare and chalky patches1 cracked and hot1 ,chafing my tired feet1 that caught upon ,its parched surface2 for a thirsty sun ,had sucked all moisture from the ground it burned1 ,and1 red and glowing1 stared upon me like ,a furnace eye when all the flame is spent4 ,i felt it was a dream2 and so ,i tried ,to close my eyes1 and shut it out from sight4 ,then1 sitting down1 ,i hid my face2 but this ,only increased the dread2 and so ,i gazed ,with open eyes into my dream again4 ,the mists had thickened1 and had grown quite black ,over the sun2 and darkness closed round me4 7,thy father said it thundered towards the morn47 ,but soon1 far off1 ,i saw a dull green light ,break though the clouds1 which fell across the earth1 ,like death upon a bad man's upturned face4 ,sudden it burst with fifty forked darts ,in one white flash1 so dazzling bright it seemed ,to hide the landscape in one blaze of light4 ,when the loud crash that came down with it had ,rolled its long echo into stillness1 through ,the calm dark silence came a plaintive sound2 ,and1 looking towards the tree1 ,i saw that it ,was scorched with the lightning2 and there stood ,close to its foot a solitary sheep ,bleating upon the edge of a deep pit1 ,unseen till now1 choked up with briars and thorns2 ,and into this a little snow white lamb1 ,like to thine own1 had fallen4 ,it was dead ,and cold1 and must have lain there very long2 ,while1 all the time1 the mother had stood by1 ,helpless1 and moaning with a piteous bleat4 ,the lamb had struggled much to free itself1 ,for many cruel thorns had torn its head ,and bleeding feet2 and one had pierced its side1 ,from which flowed blood and water4 ,strange the things ,we see in dreams1 and hard to understand2-- ,for1 stooping down to raise its lifeless head1 ,i thought it changed into the quiet face ,of my own child4 ,then ,i awoke1 and saw ,the dim moon shining through the watery clouds ,on thee awake within thy little bed4 ,then ,jesus1 looking up1 said quietly3 ,we read that ,god will speak to those he loves ,sometimes in visions4 ,he might speak to thee ,of things to come his mercy partly veils ,from thee1 my mother2 or perhaps1 the thought ,floated across thy mind of what we read ,aloud before we went to rest last night2-- ,i mean that passage in ,isaias' book1 ,which tells about the patient suffering lamb1 ,and which it seems that no one understands4 ,then ,mary bent her face to the child's brow1 ,and kissed him twice1 and1 parting back his hair1 ,kissed him again4 ,and ,jesus felt her tears ,drop warm upon his cheek1 and he looked sad ,when silently he put his hand again ,within his mother's4 ,as they came1 they went1 ,hand in hand homeward4 ,with ,mary and with ,joseph1 till the time ,when all the things should be fulfilled in him ,which ,god had spoken by his prophets' mouth ,long since2 and ,god was with him1 and ,god's grace4 ,a ,pause of ,thought ,i looked for that which is not1 nor can be1 ,and hope deferred made my heart sick1 in truth2 ,but years must pass before a hope of youth ,is resigned utterly4 ,i watched and waited with a steadfast will3 ,and1 tho' the object seemed to flee away ,that ,i so longed for1 ever1 day by day1 ,i watched and waited still4 ,sometimes ,i said1--,this thing shall be no more2 ,my expectation wearies1 and shall cease2 ,i will resign it now1 and be at peace3-- ,yet never gave it o'er4 ,sometimes ,i said1--,it is an empty name ,i long for2 to a name why should ,i give ,the peace of all the days ,i have to live8-- ,yet gave it all the same4 ,alas6 thou foolish one1--alike unfit ,for healthy joy and salutary pain1 ,thou knowest the chase useless1 and again ,turnest to follow it4 ,the ,purpose and ,tendency of ,early ,italian ,art ,the object we have proposed to ourselves in writing on ,art1 has been an endeavour to encourage and enforce an entire adherence to the simplicity of nature2 and also to direct attention1 as an auxiliary medium1 to the comparatively few works which ,art has yet produced in this spirit4 ,it is in accordance with the former and more prominent of these objects that the writer proposes at present to treat4 ,an unprejudiced spectator of the recent progress and main direction of ,art in ,england will have observed1 as a great change in the character of the productions of the modern school1 a marked attempt to lead the taste of the public into a new channel by producing pure transcripts and faithful studies from nature1 instead of conventionalities and feeble reminiscences from the ,old ,masters2 an entire seeking after originality in a more humble manner than has been practised since the decline of ,italian ,art in the ,middle ,ages4 ,this has been most strongly shown by the landscape painters1 among whom there are many who have raised an entirely new school of natural painting1 and whose productions undoubtedly surpass all others in the simple attention to nature in detail as well as in generalities4 ,by this they have succeeded in earning for themselves the reputation of being the finest landscape painters in ,europe4 ,but1 although this success has been great and merited1 it is not of them that we have at present to treat1 but rather to recommend their example to their fellow-labourers1 the historical painters4 ,that the system of study to which this would necessarily lead requires a somewhat longer and more devoted course of observation than any other is undoubted2 but that it has a reward in a greater effect produced1 and more delight in the searching1 is1 the writer thinks1 equally certain4 ,we shall find a greater pleasure in proportion to our closer communion with nature1 and by a more exact adherence to all her details1 7for nature has no peculiarities or excentricities7 in whatsoever direction her study may conduct4 ,this patient devotedness appears to be a conviction peculiar to1 or at least more purely followed by1 the early ,italian ,painters2 a feeling which1 exaggerated1 and its object mistaken by them1 though still held holy and pure1 was the cause of the retirement of many of the greatest men from the world to the monastery2 there1 in undisturbed silence and humility1 ,monotonous to paint ,those endless cloisters and eternal aisles ,with the same series1 ,virgin1 ,babe1 and ,saint1 ,with the same cold1 calm1 beautiful regard4 ,even with this there is not associated a melancholy feeling alone2 for1 although the object was mistaken1 yet there is evinced a consciousness of purpose definite and most elevated2 and again1 we must remember1 as a great cause of this effect1 that the ,arts were1 for the most part1 cleric1 and not laic1 or at least were under the predominant influence of the clergy1 who were the most important patrons by far1 and their houses the safest receptacles for the works of the great painter4 ,the modern artist does not retire to monasteries1 or practise discipline2 but he may show his participation in the same high feeling by a firm attachment to truth in every point of representation1 which is the most just method4 ,for how can good be sought by evil means1 or by falsehood1 or by slight in any degree8 ,by a determination to represent the thing and the whole of the thing1 by training himself to the deepest observation of its fact and detail1 enabling himself to reproduce1 as far as possible1 nature herself1 the painter will best evince his share of faith4 ,it is by this attachment to truth in its most severe form that the followers of the ,arts have to show that they share in the peculiar character of the present age1--a humility of knowledge1 a diffidence of attainment2 for1 as ,emerson has well observed1 ,the time is infected with ,hamlet's unhappiness1-- ',sicklied o'er with the the pale cast of thought4' ,is this so bad then8 ,sight is the last thing to be pitied4 ,would we be blind8 ,do we fear lest we should outsee nature and ,god1 and drink truth dry8 ,it has been said that there is presumption in this movement of the modern school1 a want of deference to established authorities1 a removing of ancient landmarks4 ,this is best answered by the profession that nothing can be more humble than the pretension to the observation of facts alone1 and the truthful rendering of them4 ,if we are not to depart from established principles1 how are we to advance at all8 ,are we to remain still8 ,remember1 no thing remains still2 that which does not advance falls backward4 ,that this movement is an advance1 and that it is of nature herself1 is shown by its going nearer to truth in every object produced1 and by its being guided by the very principles the ancient painters followed1 as soon as they attained the mere power of representing an object faithfully4 ,these principles are now revived1 not from them1 though through their example1 but from nature herself4 ,that the earlier painters came nearer to fact1 that they were less of the art1 artificial1 cannot be better shown than by the statement of a few examples from their works4 ,there is a magnificent ,niello work by an unknown ,florentine artist1 on which is a group of the ,saviour in the lap of the ,virgin4 ,she is old1 7a most touching point72 lamenting aloud1 clutches passionately the heavy-weighted body on her knee2 her mouth is open4 ,altogether it is one of the most powerful appeals possible to be conceived2 for there are few but will consider this identification with humanity to be of more effect than any refined or emasculate treatment of the same subject by later artists1 in which we have the fact forgotten for the sake of the type of religion1 which the ,virgin was always taken to represent1 whence she is shown as still young2 as if1 nature being taken typically1 it were not better to adhere to the emblem throughout1 confident by this means to maintain its appropriateness1 and1 therefore1 its value and force4 ,in the ,niello work here mentioned there is a delineation of the ,fall1 in which the serpent has given to it a human head with a most sweet1 crafty expression4 ,now in these two instances the style is somewhat rude2 but there are passion and feeling in it4 ,this is not a question of mere execution1 but of mind1 however developed4 ,let us not mistake1 however1 from this that execution should be neglected1 but only maintained as a most important aid1 and in that quality alone1 so that we do not forget the soul for the hand4 ,the power of representing an object1 that its entire intention may be visible1 its lesson felt1 is all that is absolutely necessary3 mere technicalities of performance are but additions2 and not the real intent and end of painting1 as many have considered them to be4 ,for as the knowledge is stronger and more pure in ,masaccio than in the ,caracci1 and the faith higher and greater1--so the first represents nature with more true feeling and love1 with a deeper insight into her tenderness2 he follows her more humbly1 and has produced to us more of her simplicity2 we feel his appeal to be more earnest3 it is the crying out of the man1 with none of the strut of the actor4 ,let us have the mind and the mind's-workings1 not the remains of earnest thought which has been frittered away by a long dreary course of preparatory study1 by which all life has been evaporated4 ,never forget that there is in the wide river of nature something which every body who has a rod and line may catch1 precious things which every one may dive for4 ,it need not be feared that this course of education would lead to a repetition of the toe-trippings of the earliest ,italian school1 a sneer which is manifestly unfair2 for this error1 as well as several others of a similar kind1 was not the result of blindness or stupidity1 but of the simple ignorance of what had not been applied to the service of painting at their time4 ,it cannot be shown that they were incorrect in expression1 false in drawing1 or unnatural in what is called composition4 ,on the contrary1 it is demonstrable that they exceeded all others in these particulars1 that they partook less of coarseness and of conventional sentiment than any school which succeeded them1 and that they looked more to nature2 in fact1 were more true1 and less artificial4 ,that their subjects were generally of a melancholy cast is acknowledged1 which was an accident resulting from the positions their pictures were destined to occupy4 ,no man ever complained that the ,scriptures were morbid in their tendency because they treat of serious and earnest subjects3 then why of the pictures which represent such8 ,a certain gaunt length and slenderness have also been commented upon most severely2 as if the ,italians of the fourteenth century were as so many dray horses1 and the artist were blamed for not following his model4 ,the consequence of this direction of taste is that we have life-guardsmen and pugilists taken as models for kings1 gentlemen1 and philosophers4 ,the writer was once in a studio where a man1 six feet two inches in height1 with atlantean shoulders1 was sitting for ,king ,alfred4 ,that there is no greater absurdity than this will be perceived by any one that has ever read the description of the person of the king given by his historian and friend ,asser4 ,the sciences have become almost exact within the present century4 ,geology and chemistry are almost re-instituted4 ,the first has been nearly created2 the second expanded so widely that it now searches and measures the creation4 ,and how has this been done but by bringing greater knowledge to bear upon a wider range of experiment2 by being precise in the search after truth8 ,if this adherence to fact1 to experiment and not theory1--to begin at the beginning and not fly to the end1--has added so much to the knowledge of man in science2 why may it not greatly assist the moral purposes of the ,arts8 ,it cannot be well to degrade a lesson by falsehood4 ,truth in every particular ought to be the aim of the artist4 ,admit no untruth3 let the priest's garment be clean4 ,let us now return to the ,early ,italian ,painters4 ,a complete refutation of any charge that the character of their school was neccessarily gloomy will be found in the works of ,benozzo ,gozzoli1 as in his ',vineyard' where there are some grape-gatherers the most elegant and graceful imaginable2 this painter's children are the most natural ever painted4 ,in ,ghiberti1--in ,fra ,angilico1 7well named71--in ,masaccio1--in ,ghirlandajo1 and in ,baccio della ,porta1 in fact in nearly all the works of the painters of this school1 will be found a character of gentleness1 grace1 and freedom1 which cannot be surpassed by any other school1 be that which it may2 and it is evident that this result must have been obtained by their peculiar attachment to simple nature alone1 their casting aside all ornament1 or rather their perfect ignorance of such1--a happy fortune none have shared with them4 ,to show that with all these qualifications they have been pre-eminent in energy and dignity1 let us instance the ',air ,demons' of ,orcagna1 where there is a woman borne through the air by an ,evil ,spirit4 ,her expression is the most terrible imaginable2 she grasps her bearer with desperation1 looking out around her into space1 agonized with terror4 ,there are other figures in the same picture of men who have been cast down1 and are falling through the air3 one descends with his hands tied1 his chin up1 and long hair hanging from his head in a mass4 ,one of the ,evil ,spirits hovering over them has flat wings1 as though they were made of plank3 this gives a most powerful character to the figure4 ,altogether1 this picture contains perhaps a greater amount of bold imagination and originality of conception than any of the kind ever painted4 ,for sublimity there are few works which equal the ',archangels' of ,giotto1 who stand singly1 holding their sceptres1 and with relapsed wings4 ,the ',paul' of ,masaccio is a well-known example of the dignified simplicity of which these artists possessed so large a share4 ,these instances might be multiplied without end2 but surely enough have been cited in the way of example to show the surpassing talent and knowledge of these painters1 and their consequent success1 by following natural principles1 until the introduction of false and meretricious ornament led the ,arts from the simple chastity of nature1 which it is as useless to attempt to elevate as to endeavour to match the works of ,god by those of man4 ,let the artist be content to study nature alone1 and not dream of elevating any of her works1 which are alone worthy of representation4#e #e ,the sources from which these examples are drawn1 and where many more might be found1 are principally3--,d',agincourt3 ,histoire de l',art par les ,monumens2--,rossini3 ,storia della ,pittura2--,ottley3 ,italian ,school of ,design1 and his #abj ,fac-similes of scarce prints2--and the ,gates of ,san ,giovanni1 by ,ghiberti2 of which last a cast of one entire is set up in the ,central ,school of ,design1 ,somerset ,house2 portions of the same are also in the ,royal ,academy4 ,the ,arts have always been most important moral guides4 ,their flourishing has always been coincident with the most wholesome period of a nation's3 never with the full and gaudy bloom which but hides corruption1 but the severe health of its most active and vigorous life2 its mature youth1 and not the floridity of age1 which1 like the wide full open petals of a flower1 indicates that its glory is about to pass away4 ,there has certainly always been a period like the short warm season the ,canadians call the ,indian ,summer1 which is said to be produced by the burning of the western forests1 causing a factitious revival of the dying year3 so there always seems to have been a flush of life before the final death of the ,arts in each period3--in ,greece1 in the sculptors and architects of the time after ,pericles2 in the ,germans1 with the successors of ,albert ,durer4 ,in fact1 in every school there has been a spring1 a summer1 an autumn1 an ,indian ,summer1 and then winter2 for as surely as the ,indian ,summer1 7which is1 after all1 but an unhealthy flush produced by destruction17 so surely does winter come4 ,in the ,arts1 the winter has been exaggerated action1 conventionalism1 gaudy colour1 false sentiment1 voluptuousness1 and poverty of invention3 and1 of all these characters1 that which has been the most infallible herald of decease1 voluptuousness1 has been the most rapid and sure4 ,corruption lieth under it2 and every school1 and indeed every individual1 that has pandered to this1 and departed from the true spirit in which all study should be conducted1 sought to degrade and sensualize1 instead of chasten and render pure1 the humanity it was instructed to elevate4 ,so has that school1 and so have those individuals1 lost their own power and descended from their high seat1 fallen from the priest to the mere parasite1 from the law-giver to the mere courtier4 ,if we have entered upon a new age1 a new cycle of man1 of which there are many signs1 let us have it unstained by this vice of sensuality of mind4 ,the ,english school has lately lost a great deal of this character2 why should we not be altogether free from it8 ,nothing can degrade a man or a nation more than this meanness2 why should we not avoid it8 ,sensuality is a meanness repugnant to youth1 and disgusting in age3 a degradation at all times4 ,let us say ,my strength is as the strength of ten1 ,because my heart is pure4 ,bearing this in mind1--the conviction that1 without the pure heart1 nothing can be done worthy of us2 by this1 that the most successful school of painters has produced upon us the intention of their earnestness at this distance of time1--let us follow in their path1 guided by their light3 not so subservient as to lose our own freedom1 but in the confidence of equal power and equal destiny2 and then rely that we shall obtain the same success and equal or greater power1 such as is given to the age in which we live4 ,this is the only course that is worthy of the influence which might be exerted by means of the ,arts upon the character of the people3 therefore let it be the only one for us to follow if we hope to share in the work4 ,that the real power of the ,arts1 in conjunction with ,poetry1 upon the actions of any age is1 or might be1 predominant above all others will be readily allowed by all that have given any thought to the subject3 and that there is no assignable limit to the good that may be wrought by their influence is another point on which there can be small doubt4 ,let us then endeavour to call up and exert this power in the worthiest manner1 not forgetting that we chose a difficult path in which there are many snares1 and holding in mind the motto1 ,no ,cross1 no ,crown4 ,believe that there is that in the fact of truth1 though it be only in the character of a single leaf earnestly studied1 which may do its share in the great labor of the world3 remember that it is by truth alone that the ,arts can ever hold the position for which they were intended1 as the most powerful instruments1 the most gentle guides2 that1 of all classes1 there is none to whom the celebrated words of ,lessing1 ,that the destinies of a nation depend upon its young men between nineteen and twenty-five years of age1 can apply so well as to yourselves4 ,recollect1 that your portion in this is most important3 that your share is with the poet's share2 that1 in every careless thought or neglected doubt1 you shelve your duty1 and forsake your trust2 fulfil and maintain these1 whether in the hope of personal fame and fortune1 or from a sense of power used to its intentions2 and you may hold out both hands to the world4 ,trust it1 and it will have faith in you2 will hearken to the precepts you may have permission to impart4 ,song ,oh6 roses for the flush of youth1 ,and laurel for the perfect prime2 ,but pluck an ivy-branch for me1 ,grown old before my time4 ,oh6 violets for the grave of youth1 ,and bay for those dead in their prime2 ,give me the withered leaves ,i chose ,before in the olden time4 ,morning ,sleep ,another day hath dawned ,since1 hastily and tired1 ,i threw myself ,into the dark lap of advancing sleep4 ,meanwhile through the oblivion of the night ,the ponderous world its old course hath fulfilled2 ,and now the gradual sun begins to throw ,its slanting glory on the heads of trees1 ,and every bird stirs in its nest revealed1 ,and shakes its dewy wings4 ,a blessed gift ,unto the weary hath been mine to-night1 ,slumber unbroken3 now it floats away3-- ,but whether 'twere not best to woo it still1 ,the head thus properly disposed1 the eyes ,in a continual dawning1 mingling earth ,and heaven with vagrant fantasies1--one hour1-- ,yet for another hour8 ,i will not break ,the shining woof2 ,i will not rudely leap ,out of this golden atmosphere1 through which ,i see the forms of immortalities4 ,verily1 soon enough the laboring day ,with its necessitous unmusical calls ,will force the indolent conscience into life4 ,the uncouth moth upon the window-panes ,hath ceased to flap1 or traverse with blind whirr ,the room's dusk corners2 and the leaves without ,vibrate upon their thin stems with the breeze ,flying towards the light4 ,to an ,eastern vale ,that light may now be waning1 and across ,the tall reeds by the ,ganges1 lotus-paved1 ,lengthening the shadows of the banyan-tree4 ,the rice-fields are all silent in the glow1 ,all silent the deep heaven without a cloud1 ,burning like molten gold4 ,a red canoe ,crosses with fan-like paddles and the sound ,of feminine song1 freighted with great-eyed maids ,whose unzoned bosoms swell on the rich air2 ,a lamp is in each hand2 some mystic rite ,go they to try4 ,such rites the birds may see1 ,ibis or emu1 from their cocoa nooks1-- ,what time the granite sentinels that watch ,the mouths of cavern-temples hail the first ,faint star1 and feel the gradual darkness blend ,their august lineaments2--what time ,haroun ,perambulated ,bagdat1 and none knew ,he was the ,caliph who knocked soberly ,by ,giafar's hand at their gates shut betimes2-- ,what time prince ,assad sat on the high hill ',neath the pomegranate-tree1 long wearying ,for his lost brother's step2--what time1 as now1 ,along our ,english sky1 flame-furrows cleave ,and break the quiet of the cold blue clouds1 ,and the first rays look in upon our roofs4 ,let the day come or go2 there is no let ,or hindrance to the indolent wilfulness ,of fantasy and dream-land4 ,place and time ,and bodily weight are for the wakeful only4 ,now they exist not3 life is like that cloud1 ,floating1 poised happily in mid-air1 bathed ,in a sustaining halo1 soft yet clear1 ,voyaging on1 though to no bourne2 all heaven ,its own wide home alike1 earth far below ,fading still further1 further4 ,yet we see1 ,in fancy1 its green fields1 its towers1 and towns ,smoking with life1 its roads with traffic thronged ,and tedious travellers within iron cars1 ,its rivers with their ships1 and laborers1 ,to whose raised eye1 as1 stretched upon the sward1 ,they may enjoy some interval of rest1 ,that little cloud appears no living thing1 ,although it moves1 and changes as it moves4 ,there is an old and memorable tale ,of some sound sleeper being borne away ,by banded fairies in the mottled hour ,before the cockcrow1 through unknown weird woods ,and mighty forests1 where the boughs and roots ,opened before him1 closed behind2--thenceforth ,a wise man lived he1 all unchanged by years4 ,perchance again these fairies may return1 ,and evermore shall ,i remain as now1 ,a dreamer half awake1 a wandering cloud6 ,the spell ,of ,merlin old that ministered to fate1 ,the tales of visiting ghosts1 or fairy elves1 ,or witchcraft1 are no fables4 ,but his task ,is ended with the night2--the thin white moon ,evades the eye1 the sun breaks through the trees1 ,and the charmed wizard comes forth a mere man ,from out his circle4 ,thus it is1 whate'er ,we know and understand hath lost the power ,over us2--we are then the master4 ,still ,all ,fancy's world is real2 no diverse mark ,is on the stores of memory1 whether gleaned ,from childhood's early wonder at the charm ,that bound the lady in the echoless cave ,where lay the sheath'd sword and the bugle horn1-- ,or from the fullgrown intellect1 that works ,from age to age1 exploring darkest truths1 ,with sympathy and knowledge in one yoke ,ploughing the harvest land4 ,the lark is up1 ,piercing the dazzling sky beyond the search ,of the acutest love3 enough for me ,to hear its song3 but now it dies away1 ,leaving the chirping sparrow to attract ,the listless ear1--a minstrel1 sooth to say1 ,nearly as good4 ,and now a hum like that ,of swarming bees on meadow-flowers comes up4 ,each hath its just and yet luxurious joy1 ,as if to live were to be blessed4 ,the mild ,maternal influence of nature thus ,ennobles both the sentient and the dead2-- ,the human heart is as an altar wreathed1 ,on which old wine pours1 streaming o'er the leaves1 ,and down the symbol-carved sides4 ,behold6 ,unbidden1 yet most welcome1 who be these8 ,the high-priests of this altar1 poet-kings2-- ,chaucer1 still young with silvery beard that seems ,worthy the adoration of a child2 ,and ,spenser1 perfect master1 to whom all ,sweet graces ministered4 ,the shut eye weaves ,a picture2--the immortals pass along ,into the heaven1 and others follow still1 ,each on his own ray-path1 till all the field ,is threaded with the foot-prints of the great4 ,and now the passengers are lost2 long lines ,only are left1 all intertwisted1 dark ,upon a flood of light444444444 ,i am awake6 ,i hear domestic voices on the stair4 ,already hath the mower finished half ,his summer day's ripe task2 already hath ,his scythe been whetted often2 and the heaps ,behind him lie like ridges from the tide4 ,in sooth1 it is high time to wave away ,the cup of ,comus1 though with nectar filled1 ,and sweet as odours to the mariner ,from lands unseen1 across the wide blank sea4 ,sonnet ,when midst the summer-roses the warm bees ,are swarming in the sun1 and thou--so full ,of innocent glee--dost with thy white hands pull ,pink scented apples from the garden trees ,to fling at me1 ,i catch them1 on my knees1 ,like those who gather'd manna2 and ,i cull ,some hasty buds to pelt thee--white as wool ,lilies1 or yellow jonquils1 or heartsease2-- ,then ,i can speak my love1 ev'n tho' thy smiles ,gush out among thy blushes1 like a flock ,of bright birds from rose-bowers2 but when thou'rt gone ,i have no speech1--no magic that beguiles1 ,the stream of utterance from the harden'd rock3-- ,the dial cannot speak without the sun6 ,stars and ,moon ,beneath the stars and summer moon ,a pair of wedded lovers walk1 ,upon the stars and summer moon ,they turn their happy eyes1 and talk4 ,,edith4 ,those stars1 that moon1 for me they shine ,with lovely1 but no startling light2 ,my joy is much1 but not as thine1 ,a joy that fills the pulse1 like fright4 ,,alfred4 ,my love1 a darken'd conscience clothes ,the world in sackcloth2 and1 ,i fear1 ,the stain of life this new heart loathes1 ,still clouds my sight2 but thine is clear4 ,true vision is no startling boon ,to one in whom it always lies2 ,but if true sight of stars and moon ,were strange to thee1 it would surprise4 ,disease it is and dearth in me ,which thou believest genius1 wealth2 ,and that imagined want in thee ,is riches and abundant health4 ,o1 little merit ,i my bride6 ,and therefore will ,i love her more2 ,renewing1 by her gentle side1 ,lost worth3 let this thy smile restore6 ,,edith4 ,ah1 love6 we both1 with longing deep1 ,love words and actions kind1 which are ,more good for life than bread or sleep1 ,more beautiful than ,moon or ,star4 ,on the ,mechanism of a ,historical ,picture ,part ,i4 ,the ,design ,in tracing these memoranda of the course to be pursued in producing a work of the class commonly denominated ,historic ,art1 we have no wish to set ourselves in opposition to the practice of other artists4 ,we are quite willing to believe that there may be various methods of working out the same idea1 each productive of a satisfactory result4 ,should any one therefore regard it as a subject for controversy1 we would only reply that1 if different1 or to them better1 methods be adopted by other painters1 no less certain is it that there are numbers who at the onset of their career have not the least knowledge of any one of these methods2 and that it is chiefly for such that these notes have been penned4 ,in short1 that to all about to paint their first picture we address ourselves4 ,the first advice that should be given1 on painting a historical picture1 ought undoubtedly to be on the choosing of a fit subject2 but1 the object of the present paper being purely practical1 it would ill commence with a question which would entail a dissertation bearing upon the most abstract properties of ,art4 ,should it afterwards appear necessary1 we may append such a paper to the last number of these articles2 but1 for the present1 we will content ourselves with beginning where the student may first encounter a difficulty in giving body to his idea4 ,the first care of the painter1 after having selected his subject1 should be to make himself thoroughly acquainted with the character of the times1 and habits of the people1 which he is about to represent2 and next1 to consult the proper authorities for his costume1 and such objects as may fill his canvass2 as the architecture1 furniture1 vegetation or landscape1 or accessories1 necessary to the elucidation of the subject4 ,by not pursuing this course1 the artist is in danger of imagining an effect1 or disposition of lines1 incompatible with the costume of his figures1 or objects surrounding them2 and it will be found always a most difficult thing to efface an idea that has once taken possession of the mind4 ,besides which1 it is impossible to conceive a design with any truth1 not being acquainted with the character1 habits1 and appearance1 of the people represented4 ,having1 by such means1 secured the materials of which his work must be composed1 the artist must endeavour1 as far as lies in his power1 to embody the picture in his thoughts1 before having recourse to paper4 ,he must patiently consider his subject1 revolving in his mind every means that may assist the clear development of the story3 giving the most prominent places to the most important actors1 and carefully rejecting incidents that cannot be expressed by pantomimic art without the aid of text4 ,he must also1 in this mental forerunner of his picture1 arrange the grouping of his figures1--that is1 the disposing of them in such agreeable clusters or situations on his canvass as may be compatible with the dramatic truth of the whole1 7technically called the lines of a composition47 ,he must also consider the color1 and disposition of light and dark masses in his design1 so as to call attention to the principal objects1 7technically called the effect47 ,thus1 to recapitulate1 the painter1 in his first conception of his picture1 will have to combine three qualities1 each subordinate to the other2--the intellectual1 or clear development1 dramatic truth1 and sentiment1 of his incident2--the construction1 or disposition of his groups and lines1 as most conducive to clearness1 effect1 and harmony2--and the chromatic1 or arrangement of colors1 light and shade1 most suitable to impress and attract the beholder4#f #f ,many artists1 chiefly of the schools not colorists1 are in the habit of making their designs in outline1 leaving the colors and light and shade to be thought of afterwards4 ,this plan may offer facilities2 but we doubt if it be possible to arrange satisfactorily the colors of a work which has been designed in outline without consideration of these qualities4 ,having settled these points in his mind1 as definitely as his faculties will allow of1 the student will take pencil and paper1 and sketch roughly each separate figure in his composition1 studying his own acting1 7in a looking-glass7 or else that of any friend he may have of an artistic or poetic temperament1 but not employing for the purpose the ordinary paid models4--,it will be always found that they are stiff and feelingless1 and1 as such1 tend to curb the vivacity of a first conception1 so much so that the artist may believe an action impossible1 through the want of comprehension of the model1 which to himself or a friend might prove easy4 ,here let the artist spare neither time nor labor1 but exert himself beyond his natural energies1 seeking to enter into the character of each actor1 studying them one after the other1 limb for limb1 hand for hand1 finger for finger1 noting each inflection of joint1 or tension of sinew1 searching for dramatic truth internally in himself1 and in all external nature1 shunning affectation and exaggeration1 and striving after pathos1 and purity of feeling1 with patient endeavor and utter simplicity of heart4 ,for on this labor must depend the success of his work with the public4 ,artists may praise his color1 drawing1 or manipulation1 his chiaroscuro1 or his lines2 but the clearness1 truth1 and sentiment1 of his work will alone affect the many4 ,the action of each figure being now determinate1 the next step will be to make a sketch in oil of the whole design2 after which1 living models1 as like the artist's conception as can be found1 must be procured1 to make outlines of the nude of each figure1 and again sketches of the same1 draped in the proper costume4#g #g ,there is always difficulty attending this very necessary portion of the study of the picture2 because1 if the dresses be borrowed or hired1 at this period they may be only wanted for a few hours1 and perhaps not required again for some months to paint into the picture4--,again1 if the costume have to be made1 and of expensive material1 the portion of it seen may be sufficient to pin on to a lay figure1 without having the whole made1 which could not be worn by the living model4 ,however1 with all the larger or loose draperies1 it is very necessary to sketch them first from the living model4 ,from these studies1 the painter will prepare a second sketch1 in outline1 of the whole1 being1 in fact1 a small and hasty cartoon4#h #h ,should the picture be of small dimensions1 it will be found more expeditious to make an outline of it on paper the full size1 which can be traced on to the canvass1 keeping the latter clean4 ,on the contrary1 should the painting be large1 the outline had better be made small1 and squared to transfer to the canvass4 ,in this last preparation of the design1 the chief care of the student will be the grouping1 and the correct size and place of each figure2 also the perspective of the architecture and ground plan will now have to be settled2 a task requiring much patient calculation1 and usually proving a source of disgust to the novice not endowed with much perseverance4 ,but1 above all1 the quality to be most studied in this outline design will be the proportion of the whole work4 ,and with a few remarks on this quality1 which might appropriately be termed constructive beauty in art1 we will close this paper on the ,design1 as belonging more properly to the mechanical than the intellectual side of art2 as being rather the slow growth of experience than the spontaneous impulse of the artistic temperament4 ,it is a feature in art rather apt to savor of conventionality to such as would look on nature as the only school of art1 who would consider it but as the exponent of thought and feeling2 while1 on the other hand1 we fear it likely to be studied to little effect by such as receive with indiscriminate and phlegmatic avidity all that is handed down to them in the shape of experience or time-sanctioned rule4 ,but plastic art claims not merely our sympathy1 in its highest capacity to emit thought and sentiment2 but as form1 colour1 light1 life1 and beauty2 and who shall settle the claims between thought and beauty8 ,but art has beauties of its own1 which neither impair nor contradict the beauties of nature2 but which are not of nature1 and yet are1 inasmuch as art itself is but part of nature3 and of such1 the beauties of the nature of art1 is the feeling for constructive beauty4 ,it interferes not with truth or sentiment2 it is not the cause of unlikely order and improbable symmetry2 it is not bounded by line or rule1 nor taught by theory4 ,it is a feeling for proportion1 ever varying from an infinity of conflicting causes1 that balances the picture as it balances the ,gothic edifice2 it is a germ planted in the breast of the artist1 that gradually expands by cultivation4 ,to those who would foster its development the only rule we could offer would be never to leave a design1 while they imagine they could alter for the better 7subordinate to the truth of nature7 the place of a single figure or group1 or the direction of a line4 ,and to such as think it beneath their care we can only say that they neglect a refinement1 of which every great master takes advantage to increase the fascination which beauty1 feeling1 or passion1 exercises over the multitude4 ,a ,testimony ,i said of laughter3 ,it is vain2-- ,of mirth ,i said3 ,what profits it8-- ,therefore ,i found a book1 and writ ,therein1 how ease and also pain1 ,how health and sickness1 every one ,is vanity beneath the sun4 ,man walks in a vain shadow2 he ,disquieteth himself in vain4 ,the things that were shall be again4 ,the rivers do not fill the sea1 ,but turn back to their secret source3 ,the winds1 too1 turn upon their course4 ,our treasures1 moth and rust corrupt2 ,or thieves break through and steal2 or they ,make themselves wings and fly away4 ,one man made merry as he supp'd1 ,nor guessed how when that night grew dim1 ,his soul would be required of him4 ,we build our houses on the sand ,comely withoutside1 and within2 ,but when the winds and rains begin ,to beat on them1 they cannot stand2 ,they perish1 quickly overthrown1 ,loose at the hidden basement stone4 ,all things are vanity1 ,i said3 ,yea vanity of vanities4 ,the rich man dies2 and the poor dies3 ,the worm feeds sweetly on the dead4 ,whatso thou lackest1 keep this trust3-- ,all in the end shall have but dust4 ,the one inheritance1 which best ,and worst alike shall find and share4 ,the wicked cease from troubling there1 ,and there the weary are at rest2 ,there all the wisdom of the wise ,is vanity of vanities4 ,man flourishes as a green leaf1 ,and as a leaf doth pass away2 ,or1 as a shade that cannot stay1 ,and leaves no track1 his course is brief3 ,yet doth man hope and fear and plan ,till he is dead3--oh foolish man6 ,our eyes cannot be satisfied ,with seeing2 nor our ears be fill'd ,with hearing3 yet we plant and build1 ,and buy1 and make our borders wide3 ,we gather wealth1 we gather care1 ,but know not who shall be our heir4 ,why should we hasten to arise ,so early1 and so late take rest8 ,our labor is not good2 our best ,hopes fade2 our heart is stayed on lies3 ,verily1 we sow wind2 and we ,shall reap the whirlwind1 verily4 ,he who hath little shall not lack2 ,he who hath plenty shall decay3 ,our fathers went2 we pass away2 ,our children follow on our track3 ,so generations fail1 and so ,they are renewed1 and come and go4 ,the earth is fattened with our dead2 ,she swallows more and doth not cease2 ,therefore her wine and oil increase ,and her sheaves are not numbered2 ,therefore her plants are green1 and all ,her pleasant trees lusty and tall4 ,therefore the maidens cease to sing1 ,and the young men are very sad2 ,therefore the sowing is not glad1 ,and weary is the harvesting4 ,of high and low1 of great and small1 ,vanity is the lot of all4 ,a king dwelt in ,jerusalem3 ,he was the wisest man on earth2 ,he had all riches from his birth1 ,and pleasures till he tired of them3 ,then1 having tested all things1 he ,witnessed that all are vanity4 ,o ,when and ,where ,all knowledge hath taught me1 ,all sorrow hath brought me1 ,are smothered sighs ,that pleasure lies1 ,like the last gleam of evening's ray1 ,so far and far away1--far away4 ,under the cold moist herbs ,no wind the calm disturbs4 ,o when and where8 ,nor here nor there4 ,grass cools my face1 grief heats my heart4 ,will this life ,i swoon with never part8 ,fancies at ,leisure ,i4 ,noon ,rest ,following the river's course1 ,we come to where the sedges plant ,their thickest twinings at its source2-- ,a spot that makes the heart to pant1 ,feeling its rest and beauty4 ,pull ,the reeds' tops thro' your fingers2 dull ,your sense of the world's life2 and toss ,the thought away of hap or cross3 ,then shall the river seem to call ,your name1 and the slow quiet crawl ,between your eyelids like a swoon2 ,and all the sounds at heat of noon ,and all the silence shall so sing ,your eyes asleep as that no wing ,of bird in rustling by1 no prone ,willow-branch on your hair1 no drone ,droning about and past you1--nought ,may soon avail to rouse you1 caught ,with sleep thro' heat in the sun's light1-- ,so good1 tho' losing sound and sight1 ,you scarce would waken1 if you might4 ,,ii4 ,a ,quiet ,place ,my friend1 are not the grasses here as tall ,as you would wish to see8 ,the runnell's fall ,over the rise of pebbles1 and its blink ,of shining points which1 upon this side1 sink ,in dark1 yet still are there2 this ragged crane ,spreading his wings at seeing us with vain ,terror1 forsooth2 the trees1 a pulpy stock ,of toadstools huddled round them2 and the flock-- ,black wings after black wings--of ancient rook ,by rook2 has not the whole scene got a look ,as though we were the first whose breath should fan ,in two this spider's web1 to give a span ,of life more to three flies8 ,see1 there's a stone ,seems made for us to sit on4 ,have men gone ,by here1 and passed8 or rested on that bank ,or on this stone1 yet seen no cause to thank ,for the grass growing here so green and rank8 ,,iii4 ,a ,fall of ,rain ,it was at day-break my thought said3 ,the moon makes chequered chestnut-shade ,there by the south-side where the vine ,grapples the wall2 and if it shine ,this evening thro' the boughs and leaves1 ,and if the wind with silence weaves ,more silence than itself1 each stalk ,of flower just swayed by it1 we'll walk1 ,mary and ,i1 when every fowl ,hides beak and eyes in breast1 the owl ,only awake to hoot4--,but clover ,is beaten down now1 and birds hover1 ,peering for shelter round2 no blade ,of grass stands sharp and tall2 men wade ,thro' mire with frequent plashing sting ,of rain upon their faces4 ,sing1 ,then1 ,mary1 to me thro' the dark3 ,but kiss me first3 my hand shall mark ,time1 pressing yours the while ,i hark4 ,,iv4 ,sheer ,waste ,is it a little thing to lie down here ,beside the water1 looking into it1 ,and see there grass and fallen leaves interknit1 ,and small fish sometimes passing thro' some bit ,of tangled grass where there's an outlet clear8 ,and then a drift of wind perhaps will come1 ,and blow the insects hovering all about ,into the water4 ,some of them get out2 ,others swim with sharp twitches2 and you doubt ,whether of life or death for other some4 ,meanwhile the blueflies sway themselves along ,over the water's surface1 or close by2 ,not one in ten beyond the grass will fly ,that closely skirts the stream2 nor will your eye ,meet any where the sunshine is not strong4 ,after a time you find1 you know not how1 ,that it is quite a stretch of energy ,to do what you have done unconsciously1-- ,that is1 pull up the grass2 and then you see ,you may as well rise and be going now4 ,so1 having walked for a few steps1 you fall ,bodily on the grass under the sun1 ,and listen to the rustle1 one by one1 ,of the trees' leaves2 and soon the wind has done ,for a short space1 and it is quiet all2 ,except because the rooks will make a caw ,just now and then together3 and the breeze ,soon rises up again among the trees1 ,making the grass1 moreover1 bend and tease ,your face1 but pleasantly4 ,mayhap the paw ,of a dog touches you and makes you rise ,upon one arm to pat him2 and he licks ,your hand for that4 ,a child is throwing sticks1 ,hard by1 at some half-dozen cows1 which fix ,upon him their unmoved contented eyes4 ,the sun's heat now is painful4 ,scarce can you ,move1 and even less lie still4 ,you shuffle then1 ,poised on your arms1 again to shade4 ,again ,there comes a pleasant laxness on you4 ,when ,you have done enough of nothing1 you will go4 ,some hours perhaps have passed4 ,say not you fling ,these hours or such-like recklessly away4 ,seeing the grass and sun and children1 say1 ,is not this something more than idle play1 ,than careless waste8 ,is it a little thing8 ,the ,light beyond ,i ,though we may brood with keenest subtlety1 ,sending our reason forth1 like ,noah's dove1 ,to know why we are here to die1 hate1 love1 ,with ,hope to lead and help our eyes to see ,through labour daily in dim mystery1 ,like those who in dense theatre and hall1 ,when fire breaks out or weight-strained rafters fall1 ,towards some egress struggle doubtfully2 ,though we through silent midnight may address ,the mind to many a speculative page1 ,yearning to solve our wrongs and wretchedness1 ,yet duty and wise passiveness are won1-- 7,so it hath been and is from age to age7-- ,though we be blind1 by doubting not the sun4 ,,ii ,bear on to death serenely1 day by day1 ,midst losses1 gains1 toil1 and monotony1 ,the ignorance of social apathy1 ,and artifice which men to men display3 ,like one who tramps a long and lonely way ,under the constant rain's inclemency1 ,with vast clouds drifting in obscurity1 ,and sudden lightnings in the welkin grey4 ,to-morrow may be bright with healthy pleasure1 ,banishing discontents and vain defiance3 ,the pearly clouds will pass to a slow measure1 ,wayfarers walk the dusty road in joyance1 ,the wide heaths spread far in the sun's alliance1 ,among the furze inviting us to leisure4 ,,iii ,vanity1 say they1 quoting him of old4 ,yet1 if full knowledge lifted us serene ,to look beyond mortality's stern screen1 ,a reconciling vision could be told1 ,brighter than western clouds or shapes of gold ,that change in amber fires1--or the demesne ,of ever mystic sleep4 ,mists intervene1 ,which then would melt1 to show our eyesight bold ,from ,god a perfect chain throughout the skies1 ,like ,jacob's ladder light with winged men4 ,and as this world1 all notched to terrene eyes ,with ,alpine ranges1 smoothes to higher ken1 ,so death and sin and social miseries2 ,by ,god fixed as ,his bow o'er moor and fen4 ,the ,blessed ,damozel ,the blessed ,damozel leaned out ,from the gold bar of ,heaven3 ,her blue grave eyes were deeper much ,than a deep water1 even4 ,she had three lilies in her hand1 ,and the stars in her hair were seven4 ,her robe1 ungirt from clasp to hem1 ,no wrought flowers did adorn1 ,but a white rose of ,mary's gift ,on the neck meetly worn2 ,and her hair1 lying down her back1 ,was yellow like ripe corn4 ,herseemed she scarce had been a day ,one of ,god's choristers2 ,the wonder was not yet quite gone ,from that still look of hers2 ,albeit to them she left1 her day ,had counted as ten years4 7,to one it is ten years of years3 44444444 ,yet now1 here in this place ,surely she leaned o'er me1--her hair ,fell all about my face444444444 ,nothing3 the ,autumn-fall of leaves4 ,the whole year sets apace47 ,it was the terrace of ,god's house ,that she was standing on1-- ,by ,god built over the sheer depth ,in which ,space is begun2 ,so high1 that looking downward thence1 ,she could scarce see the sun4 ,it lies from ,heaven across the flood ,of ether1 as a bridge4 ,beneath1 the tides of day and night ,with flame and blackness ridge ,the void1 as low as where this earth ,spins like a fretful midge4 ,but in those tracts1 with her1 it was ,the peace of utter light ,and silence4 ,for no breeze may stir ,along the steady flight ,o seraphim2 no echo there1 ,beyond all depth or height4 ,heard hardly1 some of her new friends1 ,playing at holy games1 ,spake1 gentle-mouthed1 among themselves1 ,their virginal chaste names2 ,and the souls1 mounting up to ,god1 ,went by her like thin flames4 ,and still she bowed herself1 and stooped ,into the vast waste calm2 ,till her bosom's pressure must have made ,the bar she leaned on warm1 ,and the lilies lay as if asleep ,along her bended arm4 ,from the fixt lull of heaven1 she saw ,time1 like a pulse1 shake fierce ,through all the worlds4 ,her gaze still strove1 ,in that steep gulph1 to pierce ,the swarm3 and then she spake1 as when ,the stars sang in their spheres4 ,i wish that he were come to me1 ,for he will come1 she said4 ,have ,i not prayed in solemn heaven8 ,on earth1 has he not prayed8 ,are not two prayers a perfect strength8 ,and shall ,i feel afraid8 ,when round his head the aureole clings1 ,and he is clothed in white1 ,i'll take his hand1 and go with him ,to the deep wells of light1 ,and we will step down as to a stream ,and bathe there in ,god's sight4 ,we two will stand beside that shrine1 ,occult1 withheld1 untrod1 ,whose lamps tremble continually ,with prayer sent up to ,god2 ,and where each need1 revealed1 expects ,its patient period4 ,we two will lie i' the shadow of ,that living mystic tree ,within whose secret growth the ,dove ,sometimes is felt to be1 ,while every leaf that ,his plumes touch ,saith ,his name audibly4 ,and ,i myself will teach to him-- ,i myself1 lying so1-- ,the songs ,i sing here2 which his mouth ,shall pause in1 hushed and slow1 ,finding some knowledge at each pause ,and some new thing to know4 7,alas6 to her wise simple mind ,these things were all but known ,before3 they trembled on her sense1-- ,her voice had caught their tone4 ,alas for lonely ,heaven6 ,alas ,for life wrung out alone6 ,alas1 and though the end were reached844444444 ,was thy part understood ,or borne in trust8 ,and for her sake ,shall this too be found good8-- ,may the close lips that knew not prayer ,praise ever1 though they would87 ,we two1 she said1 will seek the groves ,where the lady ,mary is1 ,with her five handmaidens1 whose names ,are five sweet symphonies3-- ,cecily1 ,gertrude1 ,magdalen1 ,margaret1 and ,rosalys4 ,circle-wise sit they1 with bound locks ,and bosoms covered2 ,into the fine cloth1 white like flame1 ,weaving the golden thread1 ,to fashion the birth-robes for them ,who are just born1 being dead4 ,he shall fear haply1 and be dumb4 ,then ,i will lay my cheek ,to his1 and tell about our love1 ,not once abashed or weak3 ,and the dear ,mother will approve ,my pride1 and let me speak4 ,herself shall bring us1 hand in hand1 ,to ,him round whom all souls ,kneel--the unnumber'd solemn heads ,bowed with their aureoles3 ,and ,angels1 meeting us1 shall sing ,to their citherns and citoles4 ,there will ,i ask of ,christ the ,lord ,thus much for him and me3-- ,to have more blessing than on earth ,in nowise2 but to be ,as then we were1--being as then ,at peace4 ,yea1 verily4 ,yea1 verily2 when he is come ,we will do thus and thus3 ,till this my vigil seem quite strange ,and almost fabulous2 ,we two will live at once1 one life2 ,and peace shall be with us4 ,she gazed1 and listened1 and then said1 ,less sad of speech than mild3 ,all this is when he comes4 ,she ceased2 ,the light thrilled past her1 filled ,with ,angels1 in strong level lapse4 ,her eyes prayed1 and she smiled4 7,i saw her smile47 ,but soon their flight ,was vague 'mid the poised spheres4 ,and then she cast her arms along ,the golden barriers1 ,and laid her face between her hands1 ,and wept4 7,i heard her tears47 ,reviews ,the ,strayed ,reveller2 and other ,poems4 ,by ,a4--,fellowes1 ,ludgate-street4--#ahdi4 ,if any one quality may be considered common to all living poets1 it is that which we have heard aptly described as self-consciousness4 ,in this many appear to see the only permanent trace of the now old usurping deluge of ,byronism2 but it is truly a fact of the time1--less a characteristic than a portion of it4 ,every species of composition--the dramatic1 the narrative1 the lyric1 the didactic1 the descriptive--is imbued with this spirit2 and the reader may calculate with almost equal certainty on becoming acquainted with the belief of a poet as of a theologian or a moralist4 ,of the evils resulting from the practice1 the most annoying and the worst is that some of the lesser poets1 and all mere pretenders1 in their desire to emulate the really great1 feel themselves under a kind of obligation to assume opinions1 vague1 incongruous1 or exaggerated1 often not only not their own1 but the direct reverse of their own1--a kind of meanness that has replaced1 and goes far to compensate for1 the flatteries of our literary ancestors4 ,on the other hand1 this quality has created a new tie of interest between the author and his public1 enhances the significance of great works1 and confers value on even the slightest productions of a true poet4 ,that the systematic infusion of this spirit into the drama and epic compositions is incompatible with strict notions of art will scarcely be disputed3 but such a general objection does not apply in the case of lyric poetry1 where even the character of the subject is optional4 ,it is an instance of this kind that we are now about to consider4 ,the ,strayed ,reveller and other ,poems1 constitutes1 we believe1 the first published poetical work of its author1 although the following would rather lead to the inference that he is no longer young4 ,but my youth reminds me3 ',thou ,hast lived light as these live now2 ,as these are1 thou too wert such4'--p4 #ei4 ,and1 in another poem3 ,in vain1 all1 all1 in vain1 ,they beat upon mine ear again1 ,those melancholy tones so sweet and still3 ,those lute-like tones which1 in long-distant years1 ,did steal into mine ears4--p4 #hf4 ,accordingly1 we find but little passion in the volume1 only four pieces 7for ,the ,strayed ,reveller can scarcely be so considered7 being essentially connected with it4 ,of these the ,modern ,sappho appears to us not only inferior1 but as evidencing less maturity both of thought and style2 the second1 ,stagyrus1 is an urgent appeal to ,god2 the third1 ,the ,new ,sirens1 though passionate in utterance1 is1 in purpose1 a rejection of passion1 as having been weighed in the balance and found wanting2 and1 in the last1 where he tells of the voice which once ,blew such a thrilling summons to his will1 ,yet could not shake it2 ,drained all the life his full heart had to spill2 ,yet could not break it3-- he records the intolerable change of thought with which it now comes to his long-sobered heart4 ,perhaps ,the ,forsaken ,merman should be added to these2 but the grief here is more nearly approaching to gloomy submission and the sickness of hope deferred4 ,the lessons that the author would learn of nature are1 as set forth in the sonnet that opens the volume1 ,of toil unsevered from tranquillity2 ,of labor that in one short hour outgrows ,man's noisy schemes1--accomplished in repose1 ,too great for haste1 too high for rivalry4--p4 #a4 ,his conception of the poet is of one who ,sees before him life unroll1 ,a placid and continuous whole2 ,that general life which does not cease2 ,whose secret is1 not joy1 but peace2 ,that life1 whose dumb wish is not missed ,if birth proceeds1 if things subsist2 ,the life of plants and stones and rain2 ,the life he craves3--if not in vain ,fate gave1 what chance shall not control1 ,his sad lucidity of soul4--pp4 #abc-d4 7,resignation47 ,such is the author's purpose in these poems4 ,he recognises in each thing a part of the whole3 and the poet must know even as he sees1 or breathes1 as by a spontaneous1 half-passive exercise of a faculty3 he must receive rather than seek4 ,action and suffering tho' he know1 ,he hath not lived1 if he lives so4 ,connected with this view of life as a placid and continuous whole1 is the principle which will be found here manifested in different modes1 and thro' different phases of event1 of the permanence and changelessness of natural laws1 and of the large necessity wherewith they compel life and man4 ,this is the thought which animates the ,fragment of an ',antigone3' ,the ,world and the ,quietest has no other scope than this3-- ,critias1 long since1 ,i know1 7,for fate decreed it so71 ,long since the world hath set its heart to live4 ,long since1 with credulous zeal1 ,it turns life's mighty wheel3 ,still doth for laborers send2 ,who still their labor give4 ,and still expects an end4--p4 #aji4 ,this principle is brought a step futher into the relations of life in ,the ,sick ,king in ,bokhara1 the following passage from which claims to be quoted1 not less for its vividness as description1 than in illustration of this thought3-- ,in vain1 therefore1 with wistful eyes ,gazing up hither1 the poor man ,who loiters by the high-heaped booths ,below there in the ,registan ,says3 ',happy he who lodges there6 ,with silken raiment1 store of rice1 ,and1 for this drought1 all kinds of fruits1 ,grape-syrup1 squares of colored ice1 ',with cherries served in drifts of snow4' ,in vain hath a king power to build ,houses1 arcades1 enamelled mosques1 ,and to make orchard-closes filled ,with curious fruit trees brought from far1 ,with cisterns for the winter rain2 ,and1 in the desert1 spacious inns ,in divers places2--if that pain ,is not more lightened which he feels1 ,if his will be not satisfied3 ,and that it be not from all time ,the law is planted1 to abide4--pp4 #dg-h4 ,the author applies this basis of fixity in nature generally to the rules of man's nature1 and avow himself a ,quietist4 ,yet he would not despond1 but contents himself1 and waits4 ,in no poem of the volume is this character more clearly defined and developed than in the sonnets ,to a ,republican ,friend1 the first of which expresses concurrence in certain broad progressive principles of humanity3 to the second we would call the reader's attention1 as to an example of the author's more firm and serious writing3-- ,yet when ,i muse on what life is1 ,i seem ,rather to patience prompted than that proud ,prospect of hope which ,france proclaims so loud2 ,france1 famed in all great arts1 in none supreme3-- ,seeing this vale1 this earth whereon we dream1 ,is on all sides o'ershadowed by the high ,uno'erleaped mountains of necessity1 ,sparing us narrower margin than we deem4 ,nor will that day dawn at a human nod1 ,when1 bursting thro' the net-work superposed ,by selfish occupation--plot and plan1 ,lust1 avarice1 envy1--liberated man1 ,all difference with his fellow-man composed1 ,shall be left standing face to face with ,god4--p4 #eg4 ,in the adjuration entitled ,stagyrus1 already mentioned1 he prays to be set free ,from doubt1 where all is double1 ,where ,faiths are built on dust2 and there seems continually recurring to him a haunting presage of the unprofitableness of the life1 after which men have not any more a portion for ever in anything that is done under the sun4 ,where he speaks of resignation1 after showing how the less impetuous and self-concentred natures can acquiesce in the order of this life1 even were it to bring them back with an end unattained to the place whence they set forth2 after showing how it is the poet's office to live rather than to act in and thro' the whole life round about him1 he concludes thus3 ,the world in which we live and move ,outlasts aversion1 outlasts love44444 ,nay1 and since death1 which wipes out man1 ,finds him with many an unsolved plan14444 ,still gazing on the ever full ,eternal mundane spectacle1 ,this world in which we draw our breath ,in some sense1 ,fausta1 outlasts death44444 ,enough1 we live3--and1 if a life ,with large results so little rife1 ,tho' bearable1 seem scarcely worth ,this pomp of worlds1 this pain of birth1 ,yet1 ,fausta1 the mute turf we tread1 ,the solemn hills around us spread1 ,this stream that falls incessantly1 ,the strange-scrawled rocks1 the lonely sky1 ,if ,i might lend their life a voice1 ,seem to bear rather than rejoice4 ,and1 even could the intemperate prayer ,man iterates1 while these forbear1 ,for movement1 for an ampler sphere1 ,pierce fate's impenetrable ear1 ,not milder is the general lot ,because our spirits have forgot1 ,in actions's dizzying eddy whirled1 ,the something that infects the world4--pp4 #abe-h4--,resignation4 ,shall we1 he asks1 go hence and find that our vain dreams are not dead8 ,shall we follow our vague joys1 and the old dead faces1 and the dead hopes8 ,he exhorts man to be in utrumque paratus4 ,if the world be the materialized thought of one all-pure1 let him1 by lonely pureness1 seek his way through the colored dream of life up again to that all-pure fount3-- ,but1 if the wild unfathered mass no birth ,in divine seats hath known2 ,in the blank echoing solitude1 if earth1 ,rocking her obscure body to and fro1 ,ceases not from all time to heave and groan1 ,unfruitful oft1 and1 at her happiest throe1 ,forms what she forms1 alone3 then man1 the only self-conscious being1 seeming sole to awake1 must1 recognizing his brotherhood with this world which stirs at his feet unknown1 confess that he too but seems4 ,thus far for the scheme and the creed of the author4 ,concerning these we leave the reader to draw his own conclusions4 ,before proceeding to a more minute notice of the various poems1 we would observe that a predilection is apparent throughout for antiquity and classical association2 not that strong love which made ,shelley1 as it were1 the heir of ,plato2 not that vital grasp of conception which enabled ,keats without1 and enables ,landor with1 the most intimate knowledge of form and detail1 to return to and renew the old thoughts and beliefs of ,greece2 still less the mere superficial acquaintance with names and hackneyed attributes which was once poetry4 ,of this conventionalism1 however1 we have detected two instances2 the first1 an allusion to shy ,dian's horn in breathless glades of the days we live1 peculiarly inappropriate in a sonnet addressed ,to ,george ,cruikshank on his ,picture of ',the ,bottle2' the second a grave call to ,memory to bring her tablets1 occurring in1 and forming the burden of1 a poem strictly personal1 and written for a particular occasion4 ,but the author's partiality is shown1 exclusively of such poems as ,mycerinus and ,the ,strayed ,reveller1 where the subjects are taken from antiquity1 rather in the framing than in the ground work1 as in the titles ,a ,modern ,sappho1 ,the ,new ,sirens1 ,stagyrus1 and ,in utrumque paratus4 ,it is ,homer and ,epictetus and ,sophocles who prop his mind2 the immortal air which the poet breathes is ,where ,orpheus and where ,homer are2 and he addresses ,fausta and ,critias4 ,there are four narrative poems in the volume3--,mycerinus1 ,the ,strayed ,reveller1 ,the ,sick ,king in ,bokhara1 and ,the ,forsaken ,merman4 ,the first of these1 the only one altogether narrative in form1 founded on a passage in the #bnd ,book of ,herodotus1 is the story of the six years of life portioned to a ,king of ,egypt succeeding a father who had loved injustice1 and lived long2 and tells how he who had loved the good revels out his six drops of time4 ,he takes leave of his people with bitter words1 and goes out ,to the cool regions of the groves he loved44444444 ,here came the king holding high feast at morn1 ,rose-crowned2 and ever1 when the sun went down1 ,a hundred lamps beamed in the tranquil gloom1 ,from tree to tree1 all thro' the twinkling grove1 ,revealing all the tumult of the feast1 ,flushed guests1 and golden goblets foamed with wine2 ,while the deep-burnished foliage overhead ,splintered the silver arrows of the moon4--p4 #g4 7a daring image1 verging towards a conceit1 though not absolutely such1 and the only one of that character that has struck us in the volume47 ,so six long years he revelled1 night and day3 ,and1 when the mirth waxed loudest1 with dull sound ,sometimes from the grove's centre echoes came1 ,to tell his wondering people of their king2 ,in the still night1 across the steaming flats1 ,mixed with the murmur of the moving ,nile4--pp4 #h1 #i4 ,here a ,tennysonian influence is very perceptible1 more especially in the last quotation2 and traces of the same will be found in ,the ,forsaken ,merman4 ,in this poem the story is conveyed by allusions and reminiscences whilst the ,merman makes his children call after her who had returned to her own earth1 hearing the ,easter bells over the bay1 and who is not yet come back for all the voices calling ,margaret6 ,margaret6 ,the piece is scarcely long enough or sufficiently distinct otherwise than as a whole to allow of extract2 but we cannot but express regret that a poem far from common-place either in ubject or treatment should conclude with such sing-song as ------,there dwells a loved one1 ,but cruel is she2 ,she left lonely for ever ,the kings of the sea4 ,the ,strayed ,reveller is written without rhyme--7not being blank verse1 however17--and not unfrequently1 it must be admitted1 without rhythm4 ,witness the following lines3 ,down the dark valley--,i saw4-- ,trembling1 ,i entered2 beheld-- ,thro' the islands some divine bard4-- ,nor are these by any means the only ones that might be cited in proof2 and1 indeed1 even where there is nothing precisely contrary to rhythm1 the verse might1 generally speaking1 almost be read as prose4 ,seldom indeed1 as it appears to us1 is the attempt to write without some fixed laws of metrical construction attended with success2 never1 perhaps1 can it be considered as the most appropriate embodiment of thought4 ,the fashion has obtained of late years2 but it is a fashion1 and will die out4 ,but few persons will doubt the superiority of the established blank verse1 after reading the following passage1 or will hesitate in pronouncing that it ought to be the rule1 instead of the exception1 in this poem3 ,they see the merchants ,on the ,oxus stream3--but care ,must visit first them too1 and make them pale3 ,whether1 thro' whirling sand1 ,a cloud of desert robber-horse has burst ,upon their caravan2 or greedy kings1 ,in the walled cities the way passes thro'1 ,crushed them with tolls2 or fever airs ,on some great river's marge ,mown them down1 far from home4--p4 #be4 ,the ,reveller1 going to join the train of ,bacchus in his temple1 has strayed into the house of ,circe and has drunk of her cup3 he believes that1 while poets can see and know only through participation in endurance1 he shares the power belonging to the gods of seeing without pain1 without labour2 and has looked over the valley all day long at the ,moenads and ,fauns1 and ,bacchus1 sometimes1 for a moment1 passing through the dark stems4 ,apart from the inherent defects of the metre1 there is great beauty of pictorial description in some passages of the poem1 from which the following 7where he is speaking of the gods7 may be taken as a specimen3-- ,they see the ,indian ,drifting1 knife in hand1 ,his frail boat moored to ,a floating isle1 thick-matted ,with large-leaved low-creeping melon plants1 ,and the dark cucumber4 ,he reaps and stows them1 ,drifting--drifting3--round him1 ,round his green harvest-plot1 ,flow the cool lake-waves3 ,the mountains ring them4--p4 #bj4 ,from the ,sick ,king in ,bokhara1 we have already quoted at some length4 ,it is one of the most considerable1 and perhaps1 as being the most simple and life-like1 the best of the narrative poems4 ,a vizier is receiving the dues from the cloth merchants1 when he is summoned to the presence of the king1 who is ill at ease1 by ,hussein3 a teller of sweet tales4 ,arrived1 ,hussein is desired to relate the cause of the king's sickness2 and he tells how1 three days since1 a certain ,moollah came before the king's path1 calling for justice on himself1 whom1 deemed a fool or a drunkard1 the guards pricked off with their spears1 while the king passed on into the mosque3 and how the man came on the morrow with yesterday's blood-spots on him1 and cried out for right4 ,what follows is told with great singleness and truth3 ,thou knowest1 the man says1 ',how fierce ,in these last day the sun hath burned2 ,that the green water in the tanks ,is to a putrid puddle turned2 ,and the canal that from the stream ,of ,samarcand is brought this way ,wastes and runs thinner every day4 ',now ,i at nightfall had gone forth ,alone2 and1 in a darksome place ,under some mulberry-trees1 ,i found ,a little pool2 and1 in brief space1 ,with all the water that was there ,i filled my pitcher1 and stole home ,unseen2 and1 having drink to spare1 ,i hid the can behind the door1 ,and went up on the roof to sleep4 ',but1 in the night1 which was with wind ,and burning dust1 again ,i creep ,down1 having fever1 for a drink4 ',now1 meanwhile1 had my brethren found ,the water-pitcher1 where it stood ,behind the door upon the ground1 ,and called my mother3 and they all1 ,as they were thirsty and the night ,most sultry1 drained the pitcher there2 ,that they sat with it in my sight1 ,their lips still wet1 when ,i came down4 ',now mark3 ,i1 being fevered1 sick1 7,most unblessed also17 at that sight ,brake forth and cursed them4 ,dost thou hear8 ,one was my mother4 ,now1 do right4' ,but my lord mused a space1 and said1 ',send him away1 sirs1 and make on4 ,it is some madman1' the king said4 ,as the king said1 so was it done4 ,the morrow at the self-same hour1 ,in the king's path1 behold1 the man1 ,not kneeling1 sternly fixed4 ,he stood ,right opposite1 and thus began1 ,frowning grim down3 ',thou wicked king1 ,most deaf where thou shouldst most give ear2 ,what8 ,must ,i howl in the next world1 ,because thou wilt not listen here8 ',what1 wilt thou pray and get thee grace1 ,and all grace shall to me be grudged8 ,nay but1 ,i swear1 from this thy path ,i will not stir till ,i be judged4' ,then they who stood about the king ,drew close together and conferred2 ,till that the king stood forth and said3 ',before the priests thou shalt be heard4' ,but1 when the ,ulema were met ,and the thing heard1 they doubted not2 ,but sentenced him1 as the law is1 ,to die by stoning on the spot4 ,now the king charged us secretly3 ',stoned must he be3 the law stands so3 ,yet1 if he seek to fly1 give way2 ,forbid him not1 but let him go4' ,so saying1 the king took a stone1 ,and cast it softly3 but the man1 ,with a great joy upon his face1 ,kneeled down1 and cried not1 neither ran4 ,so they whose lot it was cast stones1 ,that they flew thick and bruised him sore3 ,but he praised ,allah with loud voice1 ,and remained kneeling as before4 ,my lord had covered up his face3 ,but1 when one told him1 ',he is dead2' ,turning him quickly to go in1 ',bring thou to me his corpse1' he said4 ,and truly1 while ,i speak1 oh king1 ,i hear the bearers on the stair4 ,wilt thou they straightway bring him in8-- ,ho6 enter ye who tarry there4--pp4 #ci-dc4 ,the ,vizier counsels the king that each man's private grief suffices him1 and that he should not seek increase of it in the griefs of other men4 ,but he answers him1 7this passage we have before quoted17 that the king's lot and the poor man's is the same1 for that neither has his will2 and he takes order that the dead man be buried in his own royal tomb4 ,we know few poems the style of which is more unaffectedly without labor1 and to the purpose1 than this4 ,the metre1 however1 of the earlier part is not always quite so uniform and intelligible as might be desired2 and we must protest against the use1 for the sake of rhyme1 of broke in lieu of broken1 as also of stole for stolen in the ,new ,sirens4 ,while on the subject of style1 we may instance1 from the ,fragment of an ,antigone1 the following uncouth stanza1 which1 at the first reading1 hardly appears to be correctly put together3 ,but hush6 ,hoemon1 whom ,antigone1 ,robbing herself of life in burying1 ,against ,creon's laws1 ,polynices1 ,robs of a loved bride1 pale1 imploring1 ,waiting her passage1 ,forth from the palace hitherward comes4--p4 #cj4 ,perhaps the most perfect and elevated in tone of all these poems is ,the ,new ,sirens4 ,the author addresses1 in imagination1 a company of fair women1 one of whose train he had been at morning2 but in the evening he has dreamed under the cedar shade1 and seen the same forms on shores and sea-washed places1 ,with blown tresses1 and with beckoning hands4 ,he thinks how at sunrise he had beheld those ladies playing between the vines2 but now their warm locks have fallen down over their arms4 ,he prays them to speak and shame away his sadness2 but there comes only a broken gleaming from their windows1 which ,reels and shivers on the ruffled gloom4 ,he asks them whether they have seen the end of all this1 the load of passion and the emptiness of reaction1 whether they dare look at life's latter days1 ,when a dreary light is wading ,thro' this waste of sunless greens1 ,when the flashing lights are fading ,on the peerless cheek of queens1 ,when the mean shall no more sorrow1 ,and the proudest no more smile2 ,while the dawning of the morrow ,widens slowly westward all that while8 ,and he implores them to let fall one tear1 and set him free4 ,the past was no mere pretence2 it was true while it lasted2 but it is gone now1 and the ,east is white with day4 ,shall they meet again1 only that he may ask whose blank face that is8 ,pluck1 pluck cypress1 oh pale maidens2 ,dusk the hall with yew4 ,this poem must be read as a whole2 for not only would it be difficult to select particular passages for extraction1 but such extracts1 if made1 would fail in producing any adequate impression4 ,we have already quoted so larely from the concluding piece1 ,resignation1 that it may here be necessary to say only that it is in the form of speech held with ,fausta in retracing1 after a lapse of ten years1 the same way they had once trod with a joyful company4 ,the tone is calm and sustained1 not without touches of familiar truth4 ,the minor poems comprise eleven sonnets1 among which1 those ,to the ,duke of ,wellington1 on hearing him mispraised1 and on ,religious ,isolation1 deserve mention2 and it is with pleasure we find one1 in the tenor of strong appreciation1 written on reading the ,essays of the great ,american1 ,emerson4 ,the sonnet for ,butler's ,sermons is more indistinct1 and1 as such1 less to be approved1 in imagery than is usual with this poet4 ,that ,to an ,independent ,preacher who preached that we should be in harmony with nature1 seems to call for some remark4 ,the sonnet ends with these words3 ,man must begin1 know this1 where nature ends2 ,nature and man can never be fast friends2 ,fool1 if thou canst not pass her1 rest her slave4 ,now1 as far as this sonnet shows of the discourse which occasioned it1 we cannot see anything so absurd in that discourse2 and where the author confutes the ,independent preacher by arguing that ,nature is cruel2 man is sick of blood3 ,nature is stubborn2 man would fain adore3 ,nature is fickle2 man hath need of rest3 we cannot but think that1 by attributing to nature a certain human degree of qualities1 which will not suffice for man1 he loses sight of the point really raised3 for is not man's nature only a part of nature8 and1 if a part1 necessary to the completeness of the whole8 and should not the individual1 avoiding a factitious life1 order himself in conformity with his own rule of being8 ,and1 indeed1 the author himself would converse with the self-sufficing progress of nature1 with its rest in action1 as distinguished from the troublous vexation of man's toiling3-- ,two lessons1 ,nature1 let me learn of thee1 ,two lessons that in every wind are blown2 ,two blending duties harmonised in one1 ,tho' the loud world proclaim their enmity4--p4 #a4 ,the short lyric poem1 ,to ,fausta has a ,shelleian spirit and grace in it4 ,the ,hayswater ,boat seems a little got up1 and is scarcely positive enough4 ,this remark applies also1 and in a stonger degree1 to the ,stanzas on a ,gipsy ,child1 which1 and the ,modern ,sappho1 previously mentioned1 are the pieces least to our taste in the volume4 ,there is a something about them of drawing-room sentimentality2 and they might almost1 without losing much save in size1 be compressed into poems of the class commonly set to music4 ,it is rather the basis of thought than the writing of the ,gipsy ,child1 which affords cause for objection2 nevertheless1 there is a passage in which a comparison is started between this child and a ,seraph in an alien planet born1--an idea not new1 and never1 as we think1 worth much2 for it might require some subtlety to show how a planet capable of producing a ,seraph should be alien from that ,seraph4 ,we may here notice a few cases of looseness1 either of thought or of expression1 to be met with in these pages2 a point of style to be particularly looked to when the occurrence or the absence of such forms one very sensible difference between the first-rate and the second-rate poets of the present times4 ,thus1 in the sonnet ,shakspear1 the conclusion says1 ,all pains the immortal spirit must endure1 ,all weakness that impairs1 all griefs that bow1 ,find their sole voice in that victorious brow2 whereas a brow's voice remains to be uttered3 nor1 till the nature of the victory gained by the brow shall have been pointed out1 are we able to hazard an opinion of the precise value of the epithet4 ,in the address to ,george ,cruikshank1 we find3 ,artist1 whose hand with horror winged2 where a similar question arises2 and1 returning to the ,gipsy ,child1 we are struck with the unmeaningness of the line3 ,who massed round that slight brow these clouds of doom8 ,nor does the following1 from the first of the sonnets1 ,to a ,republican ,friend1 appear reconcileable with any ideas of appropriateness3 ----,while before me flow ,the armies of the homeless and unfed4 ,it is but right to state that the only instance of the kind we remember throughout the volume have now been mentioned4 ,to conclude4 ,our extracts will enable the reader to judge of this ,poet's style3 it is clear and comprehensive1 and eschews flowery adornment4 ,no particular model has been followed1 though that general influence which ,tennyson exercises over so many writers of this generation may be traced here as elsewhere4 ,it may be said that the author has little1 if anything1 to unlearn4 ,care and consistent arrangement1 and the necessary subordination of the parts to the whole1 are evident throughout2 the reflective1 which appears the more essential form of his thought1 does not absorb the due observation or presentment of the outward facts of nature2 and a well-poised and serious mind shows itself in every page4 ,published ,monthly1 price #as4 ,this ,periodical will consist of original ,poems1 ,stories to develope thought and principle1 ,essays concerning ,art and other subjects1 and analytic ,reviews of current ,literature--particularly of ,poetry4 ,each number will also contain an ,etching2 the subject to be taken from the opening article of the month4 ,an attempt will be made1 both intrinsically and by review1 to claim for ,poetry that place to which its present development in the literature of this country so emphatically entitles it4 ,the endeavour held in view throughout the writings on ,art will be to encourage and enforce an entire adherence to the simplicity of nature2 and also to direct attention1 as an auxiliary medium1 to the comparatively few works which ,art has yet produced in this spirit4 ,it need scarcely be added that the chief object of the etched designs will be to illustrate this aim practically1 as far as the method of execution will permit2 in which purpose they will be produced with the utmost care and completeness4 ,no4 #c4 7,price ,one ,shilling47 ,,march1 #ahej4 ,with an ,etching by ,f4 ,madox ,brown4 ,art and ,poetry3 ,being ,thoughts towards ,nature ,conducted principally by ,artists4 ,when whoso merely hath a little thought ,will plainly think the thought which is in him1-- ,not imaging another's bright or dim1 ,not mangling with new words what others taught2 ,when whoso speaks1 from having either sought ,or only found1--will speak1 not just to skim ,a shallow surface with words made and trim1 ,but in that very speech the matter brought3 ,be not too keen to cry--,so this is all6-- ,a thing ,i might myself have thought as well1 ,but would not say it1 for it was not worth6 ,ask3 ,is this truth8 ,for is it still to tell ,that1 be the theme a point or the whole earth1 ,truth is a circle1 perfect1 great or small8 ,london3 ,,dickinson ,co41 #aad1 ,,new ,,bond ,,street1 ,,and ,,aylott ,,jones1 #h1 ,,paternoster ,,row4 ,g4 ,f ,tupper1 ,printer1 ,clement's ,lane1 ,lombard ,street4 ,,contents4 ,cordelia--,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti #ig ,macbeth #ii ,repining4--,ellen ,alleyn #aaa ,sweet ,death--,ellen ,alleyn #aag ,subject in ,art1 ,no4 ,,ii #aah ,carillon4--,dante ,g4 ,rossetti #abf ,emblems4--,thomas ,woolner #abg ,sonnet4--,w4 ,b4 ,scott #abh ,from the ,cliffs4--,dante ,g4 ,rossetti #abi ,fancies at ,leisure4--,w4 ,m4 ,rossetti #abi ,papers of ,the ,m4 ,s4 ,society1 ,nos4 ,i4 ,,ii4 ,,iii #aca ,review1 ,sir ,reginald ,mohun4--,w4,m4 ,rossetti #acg ,the ,subscribers to this ,work are respectfully informed that the future ,numbers will appear on the last day of the ,month for which they are dated4 ,also1 that a supplementary1 or large-sized ,etching will occasionally be given 7as with the present ,number47 ,illustration3 ,,goneril3 ,,regan3 ,,lear3 ,,fool3 ,,cordelia3 ,,france3 ,cordelia ,the jewels of our father1 with washed eyes ,cordelia leaves you4 ,i know you what you are ,and1 like a sister1 am most loth to tell ,your faults1 as they are named4 ,use well our father3 ,to your professed bosoms ,i commit him4 ,but yet1 alas6--stood ,i within his grace1 ,i would prefer him to a better place4 ,so farewell to you both4 ,cordelia1 unabashed and strong1 ,her voice's quite scarcely less ,than yester-eve1 enduring wrong ,and curses of her father's tongue1 ,departs1 a righteous-souled princess2 ,bidding her sisters cherish him4 ,they turn on her and fix their eyes1 ,but cease not passing inward2--one ,sneering with lips still curled to lies1 ,sinuous of body1 serpent-wise2 ,her footfall creeps1 and her looks shun ,the very thing on which they dwell4 ,the other1 proud1 with heavy cheeks ,and massive forehead1 where remains ,a mark of frowning4 ,if she seeks ,with smiles to tame her eyes1 or speaks1 ,her mouth grows wanton3 she disdains ,the ground with haughty1 measured steps4 ,the silent years had grown between ,father and daughter4 ,always she ,had waited on his will1 and been ,foremost in doing it1--unseen ,often3 she wished him not to see1 ,but served him for his sake alone4 ,he saw her constant love2 and1 tho' ,occasion surely was not scant1 ,perhaps had never sought to know ,how she could give it wording4 ,so ,his love1 not stumbling at a want1 ,among the three preferred her first4 ,her's is the soul not stubborn1 yet ,asserting self4 ,the heart was rich2 ,but1 questioned1 she had rather let ,men judge her conscious of a debt ,than freely giving3 thus1 her speech ,is love according to her bond4 ,in ,france the queen ,cordelia had ,her hours well satisfied with love3 ,she loved her king1 too1 and was glad3 ,and yet1 at times1 a something sad1 ,may be1 was with her1 thinking of ,the manner of his life at home4 ,but this does not usurp her mind4 ,it is but sorrow guessed from far ,thro' twilight dimly4 ,she must find ,her duty elsewhere3 not resigned-- ,because she knows them what they are1 ,yet scarcely ruffled from her peace4 ,cordelia--a name well revered2 ,synonymous with truth and tried ,affection2 which but needs be heard ,to raise one selfsame thought endeared ,to men and women far and wide2 ,a name our mothers taught to us4 ,like placid faces which you knew ,years since1 but not again shall meet2 ,on a sick bed like wind that blew2 ,an excellent thing1 best likened to ,her own voice1 gentle1 soft1 and sweet2 ,shakpere's ,cordelia2--better thus4 ,macbeth #i #i ,it is proper to state that this article was written1 and seen1 exactly as it at present stands1 by several literary friends of the writer1 a considerable time before the appearance1 in the ,westminster ,review1 of a ,paper advocating a view of ,macbeth1 similar to that which is here taken4 ,but although the publication of the particular view was thus anticipated1 nearly all the most forcible arguments for maintaining it were omitted2 and the subject1 mixed up1 as it was1 with lengthy disquisitions upon very minor topics of ,shaksperian acting1 c4 made no very general impression at the time4 ,the purpose of the following ,essay is to demonstrate the existence of a very important error in the hitherto universally adopted interpretation of the character of ,macbeth4 ,we shall prove that a design of illegitimately obtaining the crown of ,scotland had been conceived by ,macbeth1 and that it had been communicated by him to his wife1 prior to his first meeting with the witches1 who are commonly supposed to have suggested that design4 ,most persons when they commence the study of the great ,shaksperian dramas1 already entertain concerning them a set of traditional notions1 generally originated by the representations1 or misrepresentations1 of the theatre1 afterwards to become strengthened or confirmed by desultory reading and corroborative criticism4 ,with this class of persons it was our misfortune to rank1 when we first entered upon the study of ,macbeth1 fully believing that1 in the character of the hero1 ,shakspere intended to represent a man whose general rectitude of soul is drawn on to ruin by the temptations of supernatural agents2 temptations which have the effect of eliciting his latent ambition1 and of misdirecting that ambition when it has been thus elicited4 ,as long as we continued under this idea1 the impression produced upon us by ,macbeth came far short of that sense of complete satisfaction which we were accustomed to receive from every other of the higher works of ,shakspere4 ,but1 upon deeper study1 the view now proposed suggested itself1 and seemed to render every thing as it should be4 ,we say that this view suggested itself1 because it did not arise directly from any one of the numerous passages which can be quoted in its support2 it originated in a general feeling of what seemed to be wanting to the completion of the entire effect2 a circumstance which has been stated at length from the persuasion that it is of itself no mean presumption in favour of the opinion which it is the aim of this paper to establish4 ,let us proceed to examine the validity of a position1 which1 if it deserves any attention at all1 may certainly claim an investigation more than usually minute4 ,we shall commence by giving an analysis of the first ,act1 wherein will be considered1 successively1 every passage which may appear to bear either way upon the point in question4 ,the inferences which we believe to be deducible from the first scene can be profitably employed only in conjunction with those to be discovered in the third4 ,our analysis must1 therefore1 be entered upon by an attempt to ascertain the true character of the impressions which it was the desire of ,shakspere to convey by the second4 ,this scene is almost exclusively occupied with the narrations of the bleeding ,soldier1 and of ,rosse4 ,these narrations are constructed with the express purpose of vividly setting forth the personal valour of ,duncan's generals1 ,macbeth and ,banquo4 ,let us consider what is the maximum worth which the words of ,shakspere will1 at this period of the play1 allow us to attribute to the moral character of the hero3--a point1 let it be observed1 of first-rate importance to the present argument4 ,we find ,macbeth1 in this scene1 designated by various epithets1 all of which1 either directly or indirectly1 arise from feelings of admiration created by his courageous conduct in the war in which he is supposed to have been engaged4 ,brave and ,noble ,macbeth1 ,bellona's ,bridegroom1 ,valiant ,cousin1 and ,worthy ,gentleman1 are the general titles by which he is here spoken of2 but none of them afford any positive clue whatever to his moral character4 ,nor is any such clue supplied by the scenes in which he is presently received by the messengers of ,duncan1 and afterwards received and lauded by ,duncan himself4 ,macbeth's moral character1 up to the development of his criminal hopes1 remains strictly negative4 ,hence it is difficult to fathom the meaning of those critics1 7,a4 ,schlegel at their head71 who have over and over again made the ruin of ,macbeth's so many noble qualities#aj the subject of their comment4 #aj ,a4 ,schlegel's ,lectures on ,dramatic ,literature4 ,vol4 ,,ii4 p4 #bjh4 ,in the third scene we have the meeting of the witches1 the announcement of whose intention to re-assemble upon the heath1 there to meet with ,macbeth1 forms the certainly most obvious1 though not perhaps1 altogether the most important1 aim of the short scene by which the tragedy is opened4 ,an enquiry of much interest here suggests itself4 ,did ,shakspere intend that in his tragedy of ,macbeth the witches should figure as originators of gratuitous destruction1 in direct opposition to the traditional1 and even proverbial1 character of the genus8 ,by that character such personages have been denied the possession of any influence whatever over the untainted soul4 ,has ,shakspere in this instance re tained1 or has he abolished1 the chief of those characteristics which have been universally attributed to the beings in question8 ,we think that he has retained it1 and for the following reasons3 ,whenever ,shakspere has elsewhere embodied superstitions1 he has treated them as direct and unalterable facts of human nature2 and this he has done because he was too profound a philosopher to be capable of regarding genuine superstition as the product of random spectra of the fancy1 having absolute darkness for the prime condition of their being1 instead of eeing in it rather the zodiacal light of truth1 the concomitant of the uprising1 and of the setting of the truth1 and a partaker in its essence4 ,again1 ,shakspere has in this very play devoted a considerable space to the purpose of suggesting the self-same trait of character now under discussion1 and this he appears to have done with the express intent of guarding against a mistake1 the probability of the occurrence of which he foresaw1 but which1 for reasons connected with the construction of the play1 he could not hope otherwise to obviate4 ,we allude to the introductory portion of the present scene4 ,one sister1 we learn1 has just returned from killing swine2 another breathes forth vengeance against a sailor1 on account of the uncharitable act of his wife2 but his bark cannot be lost1 though it may be tempest tossed4 ,the last words are scarcely uttered before the confabulation is interrupted by the approach of ,macbeth1 to whom they have as yet made no direct allusion whatever1 throughout the whole of this opening passage1 consisting in all of some five and twenty lines4 ,now this were a digression which would be a complete anomaly1 having place1 as it is supposed to have1 at this early stage of one of the most consummate of the tragedies of ,shakspere4 ,we may be sure1 therefore1 that it is the chief object of these lines to impress the reader beforehand with an idea that1 in the mind of ,macbeth1 there already exist sure foundations for that great superstructure of evil1 to the erection of which1 the metaphysical aid of the weird sisters is now to be offered4 ,an opinion which is further supported by the reproaches of ,hecate1 who1 afterwards1 referring to what occurs in this scene1 exclaims1 ,all you have done ,hath been but for a wayward son1 ,spiteful1 and wrathful1 who1 as others do1 ,loves for his own end1 not for you4 ,words which seem to relate to ends loved of ,macbeth before the witches had spurred him on to their acquirement4 ,the fact that in the old chronicle1 from which the plot of the play is taken1 the machinations of the witches are not assumed to be un-gratuitous1 cannot be employed as an argument against our position4 ,in history the sisters figure in the capacity of prophets merely4 ,there we have no previous announcement of their intention to meet with ,macbeth4 ,but in ,shakspere they are invested with all other of their superstitional attributes1 in order that they may become the evil instruments of holy vengeance upon evil2 of that most terrible of vengeance which punishes sin1 after it has exceeded certain bounds1 by deepening it4 ,proceeding now with our analysis1 upon the entrance of ,macbeth and ,banquo1 the witches wind up their hurried charm4 ,they are first perceived by ,banquo4 ,to his questions the sisters refuse to reply2 but1 at the command of ,macbeth1 they immediately speak1 and forthwith utter the prophecy which seals the fate of ,duncan4 ,now1 assuming the truth of our view1 what would be the natural behaviour of ,macbeth upon coming into sudden contact with beings who appear to hold intelligence of his most secret thoughts2 and upon hearing those thoughts1 as it were1 spoken aloud in the presence of a third party8 ,his behaviour would be precisely that which is implied by the question of ,banquo4 ,good sir1 why do you start and seem to fear ,things which do sound so fair8 ,if1 on the other hand1 our view is not true1 why1 seeing that their characters are in the abstract so much alike1 why does the present conduct of ,macbeth differ from that of ,banquo1 when the witches direct their prophecies to him8 ,why has ,shakspere altered the narrative of ,holinshed1 without the prospect of gaining any advantage commensurate to the licence taken in making that alteration8 ,these are the words of the old chronicle3 ,this 7the recontre with the witches7 was reputed at the first but some vain fantastical illusion by ,macbeth and ,banquo1 insomuch that ,banquo would call ,macbeth in jest king of ,scotland2 and ,macbeth again would call him in jest likewise the father of many kings4 ,now it was the invariable practice of ,shakspere to give facts or traditions just as he found them1 whenever the introduction of those facts or traditions was not totally irreconcileable with the tone of his conception4 ,how then 7should we still receive the notion which we are now combating7 are we to account for his anomalous practice in this particular case8 ,when the witches are about to vanish1 ,macbeth attempts to delay their departure1 exclaiming1 ,stay1 you imperfect speakers1 tell me more3 ,by ,sinol's death1 ,i know ,i am thane of ,glamis2 ,but how of ,cawdor8 the thane of ,cawdor lives1 ,a prosperous gentleman2 and1 to be king ,stands not within the prospect of belief1 ,no more than to be ,cawdor4 ,say1 from whence ,you owe this strange intelligence8 ,to be king stands not within the prospect of belief1 no more than to be ,cawdor4 ,no6 it naturally stands much less within the prospect of belief4 ,here the mind of ,macbeth1 having long been accustomed to the nurture of its royal hope1 conceives that it is uttering a very suitable hyperbole of comparison4 ,had that mind been hitherto an honest mind the word ,cawdor would have occupied the place of king1 king that of ,cawdor4 ,observe too the general character of this speech3 ,although the coincidence of the principal prophecy with his own thoughts has so strong an effect upon ,macbeth as to induce him to1 at once1 pronounce the words of the sisters1 intelligence2 he nevertheless affects to treat that prophecy as completely secondary to the other in the strength of its claims upon his consideration4 ,this is a piece of over-cautious hypocrisy which is fully in keeping with the tenor of his conduct throughout the rest of the tragedy4 ,no sooner have the witches vanished than ,banquo begins to doubt whether there had been such things there as they did speak about4 ,this is the natural incredulity of a free mind so circumstanced4 ,on the other hand1 ,macbeth1 whose manner1 since the first announcement of the sisters1 has been that of a man in a reverie1 makes no doubt whatever of the reality of their appearance1 nor does he reply to the expressed scepticism of ,banquo1 but abruptly exclaims1 your children shall be kings4 ,to this ,banquo answers1 you shall be king4 ,and thane of ,cawdor too3 went it not so8 continues ,macbeth4 ,now1 what1 in either case1 is the condition of mind which can have given rise to this part of the dialogue8 ,it is1 we imagine1 sufficiently evident that the playful words of ,banquo were suggested to ,shakspere by the narration of ,holinshed2 but how are we to account for those of ,macbeth1 otherwise than by supposing that the question of the crown is now settled in his mind by the coincidence of the principal prediction1 with the shapings of his own thoughts1 and that he is at this moment occupied with the wholly unanticipated revelations1 touching the thaneship of ,cawdor1 and the future possession of the throne by the offspring of ,banquo8 ,now comes the fulfilment of the first prophecy4 ,mark the words of these men1 upon receiving the announcement of ,rosse3 ,banquo4 ,what6 can the devil speak truth8 ,macbeth4 ,the thane of ,cawdor lives3 why do you dress me ,in borrowed robes8 ,mark how that reception is in either case precisely the reverse of that given to the prophecy itself4 ,here ,banquo starts4 ,but what is here done for ,banquo1 by the coincidence of the prophecy with the truth1 has been already done for ,macbeth1 by the coincidence of his thought with the prophecy4 ,accordingly1 ,macbeth is calm enough to play the hypocrite1 when he must otherwise have experienced surprise far greater than that of ,banquo1 because he is much more nearly concerned in the source of it4 ,so far indeed from being overcome with astonishment1 ,macbeth still continues to dwell upon the prophecy1 by which his peace of mind is afterwards constantly disturbed1 ,do you not hope your children shall be kings1 ,when those that gave the thane of ,cawdor to me ,promised no less to them8 ,banquo's reply to this question has been one of the chief sources of the interpretation1 the error of which we are now endeavouring to expose4 ,he says1 ,that1 trusted home1 ,might yet enkindle you unto the crown1 ,besides the thane of ,cawdor4 ,but1 'tis strange2 ,and often times1 to win us to our harm1 ,the instruments of darkness tell us truths1 ,win us with honest trifles1 to betray us ,in deepest consequence4 ,now1 these words have usually been considered to afford the clue to the entire nature and extent of the supernatural influence brought into play upon the present tragedy2 whereas1 in truth1 all that they express is a natural suspicion1 called up in the mind of ,banquo1 by ,macbeth's remarkable deportment1 that such is the character of the influence which is at this moment being exerted upon the soul of the man to whom he therefore thinks proper to hint the warning they contain4 ,the soliloquy which immediately follows the above passage is particularly worthy of comment3 ,this supernatural soliciting ,cannot be ill2 cannot be good3--if ill1 ,why hath it given me earnest of success1 ,commencing in a truth8 ,i am thane of ,cawdor3 ,if good1 why do ,i yield to that suggestion1 ,whose horrid image doth unfix my hair1 ,and make my seated heart knock at my ribs ,against the use of nature8 ,present fears ,are less than horrible imaginings4 ,my thought1 whose murder yet is but fantastical1 ,shakes so my single state of man1 that function ,is smothered in surmise1 and nothing is1 ,but what is not4 ,the early portion of this passage assuredly indicates that ,macbeth regards the communications of the witches merely in the light of an invitation to the carrying out of a design pre-existent in his own mind4 ,he thinks that the spontaneous fulfilment of the chief prophecy is in no way probable2 the consummation of the lesser prophecy being held by him1 but as an earnest of success to his own efforts in consummating the greater4 ,from the latter portion of this soliloquy we learn the real extent to which metaphysical aid is implicated in bringing about the crime of ,duncan's murder4 ,it serves to assure ,macbeth that that is the nearest way to the attainment of his wishes2--a way to the suggestion of which he now1 for the first time1 yields1 because the chances of its failure have been infinitely lessened by the earnest of success which he has just received4 ,after the above soliloquy ,macbeth breaks the long pause1 implied in ,banquo's words1 ,look how our partner's rapt1 by exclaiming1 ,if chance will have me king1 why chance may crown me1 ,without my stir4 ,which is a very logical conclusion2 but one at which he would long ago have arrived1 had soliciting meant suggestion1 as most people suppose it to have done2 or at least1 under those circumstances1 he would have been satisfied with that conclusion1 instead of immediately afterwards changing it1 as we see that he has done1 when he adds1 ,come what come may1 ,time and the hour runs through the roughest day6 ,with that the third scene closes2 the parties engaged in it proceeding forthwith to the palace of ,duncan at ,fores4 ,towards the conclusion of the fourth scene1 ,duncan names his successor in the realm of ,scotland4 ,after this ,macbeth hastily departs1 to inform his wife of the king's proposed visit to their castle1 at ,inverness4 ,the last words of ,macbeth are the following1 ,the prince of ,cumberland6--,that is a step1 ,on which ,i must fall down1 or else o'erleap4 ,for in my way it lies4 ,stars1 hide your fires6 ,let not light see my black and deep desires2 ,the eye wink at the hand2 yet let that be1 ,which the eye fears1 when it is done1 to see4 ,these lines are equally remarkable for a tone of settled assurance as to the fulfilment of the speaker's royal hope1 and for an entire absence of any expression of reliance upon the power of the witches1--the hitherto supposed originators of that hope1--in aiding its consummation4 ,it is particularly noticeable that ,macbeth should make no reference whatever1 not even in thought1 7that is1 in soliloquy7 to any supernatural agency during the long period intervening between the fulfilment of the two prophecies4 ,is it probable that this would have been the case had ,shakspere intended that such an agency should be understood to have been the first motive and mainspring of that deed1 which1 with all its accompanying struggles of conscience1 he has so minutely pictured to us as having been1 during that period1 enacted8 ,but besides this negative argument1 we have a positive one for his non-reliance upon their promises in the fact that he attempts to outwit them by the murder of ,fleance even after the fulfilment of the second prophecy4 ,the fifth scene opens with ,lady ,macbeth's perusal of her husband's narration of his interview with the witches4 ,the order of our investigation requires the postponement of comment upon the contents of this letter4 ,we leave it for the present1 merely cautioning the reader against taking up any hasty objections to a very important clause in the enunciation of our view by reminding him that1 contrary to ,shakspere's custom in ordinary cases1 we are made acquainted only with a portion of the missive in question4 ,let us then proceed to consider the soliloquy which immediately follows the perusal of this letter3 ,i do fear thy nature4 ,it is too full o' the milk of human kindness1 ,to catch the nearest way3 thou wouldst be great2 ,art not without ambition2 but without ,the illness should attend it4 ,that thou wouldst highly1 ,that wouldst thou holily2 wouldst not play false ,and yet wouldst wrongly win3 thou'dst have1 great ,glamis1 ,that which cries this thou must do if thou have it1 ,and that which rather thou dost fear to do1 ,thou wishest should be undone4 ,it is vividly apparent that this passage indicates a knowledge of the character it depicts1 which is far too intimate to allow of its being other than a direct inference from facts connected with previous communications upon similar topics between the speaker and the writer3 unless1 indeed1 we assume that in this instance ,shakspere has notably departed from his usual principles of characterization1 in having invested ,lady ,macbeth with an amount of philosophical acuteness1 and a faculty of deduction1 much beyond those pretended to by any other of the female creations of the same author4 ,the above passage is interrupted by the announcement of the approach of ,duncan4 ,observe ,lady ,macbeth's behaviour upon receiving it4 ,she immediately determines upon what is to be done1 and all without 7are we to suppose87 in any way consulting1 or being aware of1 the wishes or inclinations of her husband6 ,observe too1 that neither does she appear to regard the witches' prophecies as anything more than an invitation1 and holding forth of metaphysical aid to the carrying out of an independent project4 ,that this should be the case in both instances vastly strengthens the argument legitimately deducible from each4 ,at the conclusion of the passage which called for the last remark1 ,macbeth1 after a long and eventful period of absence1 let it be recollected1 enters to a wife who1 we will for a moment suppose1 is completely ignorant of the character of her husband's recent cogitations4 ,these are the first words which pass between them1 ,macbeth4 ,my dearest love1 ,duncan comes here to-night4 ,l4 ,macbeth4 ,and when goes hence8 ,macbeth4 ,to-morrow1 as he purposes4 ,l4 ,macbeth4 ,oh6 never ,shall sun that morrow see6 ,your face1 my thane1 is as a book where men ,may read strange matters3--to beguile the time1 ,look like the time2 bear welcome in your eye1 ,your hand1 your tongue3 look like the innocent flower1 ,but be the serpent under it4 ,he that's coming ,must be provided for2 and you shall put ,this night's great business into my dispatch1 ,which shall to all our nights and days to come ,give solely sovereign sway and masterdom4 ,macbeth4 ,we will speak further4 ,are these words those which would naturally arise from the situation at present1 by common consent1 attributed to the speakers of them8 ,that is to say a situation in which each speaker is totally ignorant of the sentiments pre-existent in the mind of the other4 ,are the words1 we will speak further1 those which might in nature form the whole and sole reply made by a man to his wife's completely unexpected anticipation of his own fearful purposes8 ,if not1 if few or none of these lines1 thus interpreted1 will satisfy the reader's feeling for common truth1 does not the view which we have adopted invest them with new light1 and improved1 or perfected meaning8 ,the next scene represents the arrival of ,duncan at ,inverness1 and contains nothing which bears either way upon the point in question4 ,proceeding1 therefore1 to the seventh and last scene of the first act we come to what we cannot but consider to be proof positive of the opinion under examination4 ,we shall transcribe at length the portion of this scene containing that proof2 having first reminded the reader that a few hours at most can have elapsed between the arrival of ,macbeth1 and the period at which the words1 now to be quoted1 are uttered4 ,lady ,macbeth4 ,was the hope drunk1 ,wherein you dressed yourself8 ,hath it slept since1 ,and wakes it now1 to look so green and pale ,at what it did so freely8 ,from this time1 ,such ,i account thy love4 ,art thou afeard ,to be the same in thine own act and valour1 ,as thou art in desire8 ,would'st thou have that ,which thou esteem'st the ornament of life1 ,and live a coward in thine own esteem1 ,letting1 ,i dare not1 wait upon1 ,i would1 ,like the poor cat in the adage8 ,macbeth4 ,prithee1 peace3 ,i dare do all that may become a man2 ,who dares do more is none4 ,lady ,macbeth4 ,what beast was't then ,that made you break this enterprise to me8 ,when you durst do it1 then you were a man1 ,and to be more than what you were you would ,be so much more the man4 ,nor time nor place ,did then adhere1 and yet you would make both4 ,they have made themselves1 and that their fitness now ,does unmake you4 ,i have given suck1 and know ,how tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me3 ,i would1 while it was smiling in my face1 ,have plucked my nipple from its boneless gums1 ,and dashed the brains out1 had ,i so sworn ,as you have done to this4 ,with respect to the above lines1 let us observe that1 the words1 nor time nor place did then adhere1 render it evident that they hold reference to something which passed before ,duncan had signified his intention of visiting the castle of ,macbeth4 ,consequently the words of ,lady ,macbeth can have no reference to the previous communication of any definite intention1 on the part of her husband1 to murder the king2 because1 not long before1 she professes herself aware that ,macbeth's nature is too full of the milk of human kindness to catch the nearest way2 indeed1 she has every reason to suppose that she herself has been the means of breaking that enterprise to him1 though1 in truth1 the crime had already1 as we have seen1 suggested itself to his thought1 whose murder was as yet fantastical4 ,again the whole tenor of this passage shows that it refers to verbal communication between them4 ,but no such communication can have taken place since ,macbeth's rencontre with the witches2 for1 besides that he is1 immediately after that recontre1 conducted to the presence of the king1 who there signifies an intention of proceeding directly to ,macbeth's castle1 such a communication would have rendered the contents of the letter to ,lady ,macbeth completely superfluous4 ,what then are we to conclude concerning these problematical lines8 ,first begging the reader to bear in mind the tone of sophistry which has been observed by ,schlegel to pervade1 and which is indeed manifest throughout the persuasions of ,lady ,macbeth1 we answer1 that she wilfully confounds her husband's1--probably vague and unplanned--enterprise of obtaining the crown1 with that nearest way to which she now urges him2 but1 at the same time1 she obscurely individualizes the separate purposes in the words1 and to be more than what you were1 you would be so much more the man4 ,it is a fact which is highly interesting in itself1 and one which strongly impeaches the candour of the majority of ,shakspere's commentators1 that the impenetrable obscurity which must have pervaded the whole of this passage should never have been made the subject of remark4 ,as far as we can remember1 not a word has been said upon the matter in any one of the many superfluously explanatory editions of our dramatist's productions4 ,censures have been repeatedly lavished upon minor cases of obscurity1 none upon this4 ,in the former case the fault has been felt to be ,shakspere's1 for it has usually existed in the expression2 but in the latter the language is unexceptional1 and the avowal of obscurity might imply the possibility of misapprehension or stupidity upon the part of the avower4 ,probably the only considerable obstacle likely to act against the general adoption of those views will be the doubt1 whether so important a feature of this consummate tragedy can have been left by ,shakspere so obscurely expressed as to be capable of remaining totally unperceived during upwards of two centuries1 within which period the genius of a ,coleridge and of a ,schlegel has been applied to its interpretation4 ,should this objection be brought forward1 we reply1 in the first place1 that the objector is 'begging' his question in assuming that the feature under examination has remained totally unperceived4 ,coleridge by way of comment upon these words of ,banquo1 ,good sir1 why do you stand1 and seem to fear ,things that do sound so fair8 writes thus3 ,the general idea is all that can be required of a poet--not a scholastic logical consistency in all the parts1 so as to meet metaphysical objectors4 99 99 99 99 99 99 99 99 ,how strictly true to nature it is1 that ,banquo1 and not ,macbeth himself1 directs our notice to the effects produced in ,macbeth's mind1 rendered temptible by previous dalliance with ambitious thoughts4 ,here ,coleridge denies the necessity of logical consistency1 so as to meet metaphysical objectors1 although he has1 throughout his criticisms upon ,shakspere1 endeavored1 and nearly always with success1 to prove the existence of that consistency2 and so strongly has he felt the want of it here1 that he has1 in order to satisfy himself1 assumed that previous dalliance with ambitious thoughts1 whose existence it has been our object to prove4 ,but1 putting ,coleridge's imperfect perception of the truth out of the question1 surely nothing can be easier than to believe that for the belief in which we have so many precedents4 ,how many beauties1 lost upon ,dryden1 were perceived by ,johnson2 ,how many1 hidden to ,johnson and his cotemporaries1 have been brought to light by ,schlegel and by ,coleridge4 ,repining ,she sat alway thro' the long day ,spinning the weary thread away2 ,and ever said in undertone3 ,come1 that ,i be no more alone4 ,from early dawn to set of sun ,working1 her task was still undone2 ,and the long thread seemed to increase ,even while she spun and did not cease4 ,she heard the gentle turtle-dove ,tell to its mate a tale of love2 ,she saw the glancing swallows fly1 ,ever a social company2 ,she knew each bird upon its nest ,had cheering songs to bring it rest2 ,none lived alone save only she2-- ,the wheel went round more wearily2 ,she wept and said in undertone3 ,come1 that ,i be no more alone4 ,day followed day1 and still she sighed ,for love1 and was not satisfied2 ,until one night1 when the moonlight ,turned all the trees to silver white1 ,she heard1 what ne'er she heard before1 ,a steady hand undo the door4 ,the nightingale since set of sun ,her throbbing music had not done1 ,and she had listened silently2 ,but now the wind had changed1 and she ,heard the sweet song no more1 but heard ,beside her bed a whispered word3 ,damsel1 rise up2 be not afraid2 ,for ,i am come at last1 it said4 ,she trembled1 tho' the voice was mild2 ,she trembled like a frightened child2-- ,till she looked up1 and then she saw ,the unknown speaker without awe4 ,he seemed a fair young man1 his eyes ,beaming with serious charities2 ,his cheek was white1 but hardly pale2 ,and a dim glory like a veil ,hovered about his head1 and shone ,thro' the whole room till night was gone4 ,so her fear fled2 and then she said1 ,leaning upon her quiet bed3 ,now thou art come1 ,i prithee stay1 ,that ,i may see thee in the day1 ,and learn to know thy voice1 and hear ,it evermore calling me near4 ,he answered3 ,rise1 and follow me4 ,but she looked upwards wonderingly3 ,and whither would'st thou go1 friend8 stay ,until the dawning of the day4 ,but he said3 ,the wind ceaseth1 ,maid2 ,of chill nor damp be thou afraid4 ,she bound her hair up from the floor1 ,and passed in silence from the door4 ,so they went forth together1 he ,helping her forward tenderly4 ,the hedges bowed beneath his hand2 ,forth from the streams came the dry land ,as they passed over2 evermore ,the pallid moonbeams shone before2 ,and the wind hushed1 and nothing stirred2 ,not even a solitary bird1 ,scared by their footsteps1 fluttered by ,where aspen-trees stood steadily4 ,as they went on1 at length a sound ,came trembling on the air around2 ,the undistinguishable hum ,of life1 voices that go and come ,of busy men1 and the child's sweet ,high laugh1 and noise of trampling feet4 ,then he said3 ,wilt thou go and see8 ,and she made answer joyfully2 ,the noise of life1 of human life1 ,of dear communion without strife1 ,of converse held 'twixt friend and friend2 ,is it not here our path shall end8 ,he led her on a little way ,until they reached a hillock3 ,stay4 ,it was a village in a plain4 ,high mountains screened it from the rain ,and stormy wind2 and nigh at hand ,a bubbling streamlet flowed1 o'er sand ,pebbly and fine1 and sent life up ,green succous stalk and flower-cup4 ,gradually1 day's harbinger1 ,a chilly wind began to stir4 ,it seemed a gentle powerless breeze ,that scarcely rustled thro' the trees2 ,and yet it touched the mountain's head ,and the paths man might never tread4 ,but hearken3 in the quiet weather ,do all the streams flow down together8-- ,no1 'tis a sound more terrible ,than tho' a thousand rivers fell4 ,the everlasting ice and snow ,were loosened then1 but not to flow2-- ,with a loud crash like solid thunder ,the avalanche came1 burying under ,the village2 turning life and breath ,and rest and joy and plans to death4 ,oh6 let us fly1 for pity fly2 ,let us go hence1 friend1 thou and ,i4 ,there must be many regions yet ,where these things make not desolate4 ,he looked upon her seriously2 ,then said3 ,arise and follow me4 ,the path that lay before them was ,nigh covered over with long grass2 ,and many slimy things and slow ,trailed on between the roots below4 ,the moon looked dimmer than before2 ,and shadowy cloudlets floating o'er ,its face sometimes quite hid its light1 ,and filled the skies with deeper night4 ,at last1 as they went on1 the noise ,was heard of the sea's mighty voice2 ,and soon the ocean could be seen ,in its long restlessness serene4 ,upon its breast a vessel rode ,that drowsily appeared to nod ,as the great billows rose and fell1 ,and swelled to sink1 and sank to swell4 ,meanwhile the strong wind had come forth ,from the chill regions of the ,north1 ,the mighty wind invisible4 ,and the low waves began to swell2 ,and the sky darkened overhead2 ,and the moon once looked forth1 then fled ,behind dark clouds2 while here and there ,the lightning shone out in the air2 ,and the approaching thunder rolled ,with angry pealings manifold4 ,how many vows were made1 and prayers ,that in safe times were cold and scarce4 ,still all availed not2 and at length ,the waves arose in all their strength1 ,and fought against the ship1 and filled ,the ship4 ,then were the clouds unsealed1 ,and the rain hurried forth1 and beat ,on every side and over it4 ,some clung together1 and some kept ,a long stern silence1 and some wept4 ,many half-crazed looked on in wonder ,as the strong timbers rent asunder2 ,friends forgot friends1 foes fled to foes2-- ,and still the water rose and rose4 ,ah woe is me6 ,whom ,i have seen ,are now as tho' they had not been4 ,in the earth there is room for birth1 ,and there are graves enough in earth2 ,why should the cold sea1 tempest-torn1 ,bury those whom it hath not borne8 ,he answered not1 and they went on4 ,the glory of the heavens was gone2 ,the moon gleamed not nor any star2 ,cold winds were rustling near and far1 ,and from the trees the dry leaves fell ,with a sad sound unspeakable4 ,the air was cold2 till from the ,south ,a gust blew hot1 like sudden drouth1 ,into their faces2 and a light ,glowing and red1 shone thro' the night4 ,a mighty city full of flame ,and death and sounds without a name4 ,amid the black and blinding smoke1 ,the people1 as one man1 awoke4 ,oh6 happy they who yesterday ,on the long journey went away2 ,whose pallid lips1 smiling and chill1 ,while the flames scorch them smile on still2 ,who murmur not2 who tremble not ,when the bier crackles fiery hot2 ,who1 dying1 said in love's increase3 ,lord1 let thy servant part in peace4 ,those in the town could see and hear ,a shaded river flowing near2 ,the broad deep bed could hardly hold ,its plenteous waters calm and cold4 ,was flame-wrapped all the city wall1 ,the city gates were flame-wrapped all4 ,what was man's strength1 what puissance then8 ,women were mighty as strong men4 ,some knelt in prayer1 believing still1 ,resigned unto a righteous will1 ,bowing beneath the chastening rod1 ,lost to the world1 but found of ,god4 ,some prayed for friend1 for child1 for wife2 ,some prayed for faith2 some prayed for life2 ,while some1 proud even in death1 hope gone1 ,steadfast and still1 stood looking on4 ,death--death--oh6 let us fly from death2 ,where'er we go it followeth2 ,all these are dead2 and we alone ,remain to weep for what is gone4 ,what is this thing8 thus hurriedly ,to pass into eternity2 ,to leave the earth so full of mirth2 ,to lose the profit of our birth2 ,to die and be no more2 to cease1 ,having numbness that is not peace4 ,let us go hence2 and1 even if thus ,death everywhere must go with us1 ,let us not see the change1 but see ,those who have been or still shall be4 ,he sighed and they went on together2 ,beneath their feet did the grass wither2 ,across the heaven high overhead ,dark misty clouds floated and fled2 ,and in their bosom was the thunder1 ,and angry lightnings flashed out under1 ,forked and red and menacing2 ,far off the wind was muttering2 ,it seemed to tell1 not understood1 ,strange secrets to the listening wood4 ,upon its wings it bore the scent ,of blood of a great armament3 ,then saw they how on either side ,fields were down-trodden far and wide4 ,that morning at the break of day ,two nations had gone forth to slay4 ,as a man soweth so he reaps4 ,the field was full of bleeding heaps2 ,ghastly corpses of men and horses ,that met death at a thousand sources2 ,cold limbs and putrifying flesh2 ,long love-locks clotted to a mesh ,that stifled2 stiffened mouths beneath ,staring eyes that had looked on death4 ,but these were dead3 these felt no more ,the anguish of the wounds they bore4 ,behold1 they shall not sigh again1 ,nor justly fear1 nor hope in vain4 ,what if none wept above them8--is ,the sleeper less at rest for this8 ,is not the young child's slumber sweet ,when no man watcheth over it8 ,these had deep calm2 but all around ,there was a deadly smothered sound1 ,the choking cry of agony ,from wounded men who could not die2 ,who watched the black wing of the raven ,rise like a cloud 'twixt them and heaven1 ,and in the distance flying fast ,beheld the eagle come at last4 ,she knelt down in her agony3 ,o ,lord1 it is enough1 said she3 ,my heart's prayer putteth me to shame2 ,let me return to whence ,i came4 ,thou for who love's sake didst reprove1 ,forgive me for the sake of love4 ,sweet ,death ,the sweetest blossoms die4 ,and so it was that1 going day by day ,unto the church to praise and pray1 ,and crossing the green church-yard thoughtfully1 ,i saw how on the graves the flowers ,shed their fresh leaves in showers2 ,and how their perfume rose up to the sky ,before it passed away4 ,the youngest blossoms die4 ,they die1 and fall1 and nourish the rich earth ,from which they lately had their birth4 ,sweet life3 but sweeter death that passeth by1 ,and is as tho' it had not been4 ,all colors turn to green3 ,the bright hues vanish1 and the odours fly2 ,the grass hath lasting worth4 ,and youth and beauty die4 ,so be it1 ,o my ,god1 thou ,god of truth4 ,better than beauty and than youth ,are saints and angels1 a glad company3 ,and ,thou1 ,o lord1 our ,rest and ,ease1 ,are better far than these4 ,why should we shrink from our full harvest8 why ,prefer to glean with ,ruth8 ,the ,subject in ,art ,no4 ,,ii ,resuming a consideration of the subject-matter suitable in painting and sculpture1 it is necessary to repeat those premises1 and to re-establish those principles which were advanced or elicited in the first number of this essay4 ,it was premised then that works of ,fine ,art affect the beholder in the same ratio as the natural prototypes of those works would affect him2 and not in proportion to the difficulties overcome in the artificial representation of those prototypes4 ,not contending1 meanwhile1 that the picture painted by the hand of the artist1 and then by the hand of nature on the eye of the beholder1 is1 in amount1 the same as the picture painted there by nature alone2 but disregarding1 as irrelevant to this investigation1 all concomitants of fine art wherein they involve an ulterior impression as to the relative merits of the work by the amount of its success1 and1 for a like reason1 disregarding all emotions and impressions which are not the immediate and proximate result of an excitor influence of1 or pertaining to1 the things artificial1 as a bona fide equivalent of the things natural4 ,or the premises may be practically stated thus3--7#ast47 ,when one looks on a certain painting or sculpture for the first time1 the first notion is that of a painting or sculpture4 7#bnd47 ,in the next place1 while the objects depicted are revealing themselves as real objects1 the notion of a painting or sculpture has elapsed1 and1 in its place1 there are emotions1 passions1 actions 7moral or intellectual7 according in sort and degree to the heart or mind-moving influence of the objects represented4 7#crd47 ,finally1 there is a notion of a painting or sculpture1 and a judgment or sentiment commensurate with the estimated merits of the work4--,the second statement gives the premised conditions under which ,fine ,art is about to be treated3 the #crd statement exemplifies a phase in the being of ,fine ,art under which it is never to be considered3 and furthermore1 whilst the mental reflection last mentioned 7the judgment on the work7 is being made1 it may occur that certain objects1 most difficult of artistic execution1 had been most successfully handled3 the merits of introducing such objects1 in such a manner1 are the merits of those concomitants mentioned as equally without the scope of consideration4 ,thus much for the premises--next to the re-establishment of principles4 #ast4 ,the principle was elicited1 that ,fine ,art should regard the general happiness of man1 by addressing those of his attributes which are peculiarly human1 by exciting the activity of his rational and benevolent powers2 and thereafter3--#bnd1 that the ,subject in ,art should be drawn from objects which so address and excite him2 and #crd1 as objects so exciting the mental activity may 7in proportion to the mental capacity7 excite it to any amount1 and so possibly in the highest degree 7the function of ,fine ,art being mental excitement1 and that of ,high ,art being the highest mental excitement7 that all objects so exciting mental activity and emotion in the highest degree1 may afford subjects for ,high ,art4 ,having thus re-stated the premises and principles already deduced1 let us proceed to enquire into the propriety of selecting the ,subject from the past or the present time2 which enquiry resolves itself fundamentally into the analysis of objects and incidents experienced immediately by the senses1 or acquired by mental education4 ,here then we have to explore the specific difference between the incidents and objects of to-day1 as exposed to our daily observation1 and the incidents and objects of time past1 as bequeathed to us by history1 poetry1 or tradition4 ,in the first place1 there is1 no doubt1 a considerable real difference between the things of to-day and those of times past3 but as all former times1 their incidents and objects differ amongst themselves1 this can hardly be the cause of the specific difference sought for--a difference between our share of things past and things present4 ,this real1 but not specific difference then1 however admitted1 shall not be considered here4 ,it is obvious1 in the meanwhile1 that all which we have of the past is stamped with an impress of mental assimilation3 an impress it has received from the mind of the author who has garnered it up1 and disposed it in that form and order which ensure it acceptance with posterity4 ,for let a writer of history be as matter of fact as he will1 the very order and classification of events will save us the trouble of confusion1 and render them graspable1 and more capable of assimilation1 than is the raw material of every-day experience4 ,in fact the work of mind is begun1 the key of intelligence is given1 and we have only to continue the process4 ,where the vehicle for the transmission of things past is poetry1 then we have them presented in that succession1 and with that modification of force1 a resilient plasticity1 now advancing1 now recoiling1 insinuating and grappling1 that ere this material and mental warfare is over1 we find the facts thus transmitted are incorporated with our psychical existence4 ,and in tradition is it otherwise8--,every man tells the tale in his own way2 and the merits of the story itself1 or the person who tells it1 or his way of telling1 procures it a lodgment in the mind of the hearer1 whence it is ever ready to start up and claim kindred with some external excitement4 ,thus it is the luck of all things of the past to come down to us with some poetry about them2 while from those of diurnal experience we must extract this poetry ourselves3 and although all good men are1 more or less1 poets1 they are passive or recipient poets2 while the active or donative poet caters for them what they fail to collect4 ,for let a poet walk through ,london1 and he shall see a succession of incidents1 suggesting some moral beauty by a contrast of times with times1 unfolding some principle of nature1 developing some attribute of man1 or pointing to some glory in ,the ,maker3 while the man who walked behind him saw nothing but shops and pavement1 and coats and faces2 neither did he hear the aggregated turmoil of a city of nations1 nor the noisy exponents of various desires1 appetites and pursuits3 each pulsing tremour of the atmosphere was not struck into it by a subtile ineffable something willed forcibly out of a cranium3 neither did he see the driver of horses holding a rod of light in his eye and feeling his way1 in a world he was rushing through1 by the motion of the end of that rod3--he only saw the wheels in motion1 and heard the rattle on the stones2 and yet this man stopped twice at a book shop to buy 'a ,tennyson1' or a ',browning's ,sordello4' ,now this man might have seen all that the poet saw2 he walked through the same streets3 yet the poet goes home and writes a poem2 and he who failed to feel the poetry of the things themselves detects it readily in the poet's version4 ,then why1 it is asked1 does not this man1 schooled by the poet's example1 look out for himself for the future1 and so find attractions in things of to-day8 ,he does so to a trifling extent1 but the reason why he does so rarely will be found in the former demonstration4 ,it was shown how bygone objects and incidents come down to us invested in peculiar attractions3 this the poet knows and feels1 and the probabilities are that he transferred the incidents of to-day1 with all their poetical and moral suggestions1 to the romantic long-ago1 partly from a feeling of prudence1 and partly that he himself was under this spell of antiquity1 ,how many a ,troubadour1 who recited tales of king ,arthur1 had his incidents furnished him by the events of his own time6 ,and thus it is the many are attracted to the poetry of things past1 yet impervious to the poetry of things present4 ,but this retrograde movement in the poet1 painter1 or sculptor 7except in certain cases as will subsequently appear71 if not the result of necessity1 is an error in judgment or a culpable dishonesty4 ,for why should he not acknowledge the source of his inspiration1 that others may drink of the same spring with himself2 and perhaps drink deeper and a clearer draught8--,for the water is unebbing and exhaustless1 and fills the more it is emptied3 why then should it be filtered through his tank where he can teach men to drink it at the fountain8 ,if1 as every poet1 every painter1 every sculptor will acknowledge1 his best and most original ideas are derived from his own times3 if his great lessonings to piety1 truth1 charity1 love1 honor1 honesty1 gallantry1 generosity1 courage1 are derived from the same source2 why transfer them to distant periods1 and make them not things of to-day8 ,why teach us to revere the saints of old1 and not our own family-worshippers8 ,why to admire the lance-armed knight1 and not the patience-armed hero of misfortune8 ,why to draw a sword we do not wear to aid and oppressed damsel1 and not a purse which we do wear to rescue an erring one8 ,why to worship a martyred ,st4 ,agatha1 and not a sick woman attending the sick8 ,why teach us to honor an ,aristides or a ,regulus1 and not one who pays an equitable1 though to him ruinous1 tax without a railing accusation8 ,and why not teach us to help what the laws cannot help8--,why teach us to hate a ,nero or an ,appius1 and not an underselling oppressor of workmen and betrayer of women and children8 ,why to love a ,ladie in bower1 and not a wife's fireside8 ,why paint or poetically depict the horrible race of ,ogres and ,giants1 and not show ,giant ,despair dressed in that modern habit he walks the streets in8 ,why teach men what were great and good deeds in the old time1 neglecting to show them any good for themselves8--,till these questions are answered absolutory to the artist1 it were unwise to propose the other question--,why a poet1 painter or sculptor is not honored and loved as formerly8 ,as formerly1 says some avowed sceptic in old world transcendency and golden age affairs1 ,i believe formerly the artist was as much respected and cared for as he is now4 ',tis true the ,greeks granted an immunity from taxation to some of their artists1 who were often great men in the state1 and even the companions of princes4 ,and are not some of our poets peers8 ,have not some of our artists received knighthood from the hand of their ,sovereign1 and have not some of them received pensions8 ,to answer objections of this latitude demands the assertion of certain characteristic facts which1 tho' not here demonstrated1 may be authenticated by reference to history4 ,of these1 the facts of ,alfred's disguised visit to the ,danish camp1 and ,aulaff's visit to the ,saxon1 are sufficient to show in what respect the poets of that period were held2 when a man without any safe conduct whatever could enter the enemy's camp on the very eve of battle1 as was here the case2 could enter unopposed1 unquestioned1 and return unmolested6--,what could have conferred upon the poet of that day so singular a privilege8 ,what upon the poet of an earlier time that sanctity in behoof whereof ,the great ,emathian conqueror bid spare ,the house of ,pindarus1 when temple and tower ,went to the ground3 and the repeated air ,of sad ,electra's poet had the power ,to save the ,athenian walls from ruin bare4 ,what but an universal recognition of the poet as an universal benefactor of mankind8 ,and did mankind recognize him as such1 from some unaccountable infatuation1 or because his labours obtained for him an indefeasible right to that estimate8 ,how came it1 when a ,greek sculptor had completed some operose performance1 that his countrymen bore him in triumph thro' their city1 and rejoiced in his prosperity as identical with their own8 ,how but because his art had embodied some principle of beauty whose mysterious influence it was their pride to appreciate--or he had enduringly moulded the limbs of some well-trained ,athlete1 such as it was their interest to develop1 or he had recorded the overthrow of some barbaric invader whom their fathers had fallen to repel4 ,in the middle ages when a knight listened1 in the morning1 to some song of brave doing1 ere evening he himself might be the hero of such song4--,what wonder then that he held sacred the function of the poet6 ,now-a-days our heroes 7and we have them7 are left unchapleted and neglected--and therefore the poet lives and dies neglected4 ,thus it would appear from these facts 7which have been collaterally evolved in course of enquiring into the propriety of choosing the subject from past or present time1 and in course of the consequent analysis7 that ,art1 to become a more powerful engine of civilization1 assuming a practically humanizing tendency 7the admitted function of ,art71 should be made more directly conversant with the things1 incidents1 and influences which surround and constitute the living world of those whom ,art proposes to improve1 and1 whether it should appear in event that ,art can or can not assume this attitude without jeopardizing her specific existence1 that such a consummation were desirable must be equally obvious in either case4 ,let us return now to the former consideration4 ,it was stated that the poet is affected by every day incidents1 which would have little or no effect on the mind of a general observer3 and if you ask the poet1 who from his conduct may be the supposed advocate of the past as the fittest medium for poetic eduction1 why he embodied the suggestions of to-day in the matter and dress of antiquity2 he is likely to answer as follows4--,you have stated that men pass by that which furnishes me with my subject3 ,if ,i merely reproduce what they slighted1 the reproduction will be slighted equally4 ,it appears then that ,i must devise some means of attracting their sympathies--and the medium of antiquity is the fittest for three several reasons4 #ast4--,nothing comes down to us from antiquity unless fraught with sufficient interest of some sort1 to warrant it being worthy of record4 ,thus1 all incidents which we possess of the old time being more or less interesting1 there arises an illative impression that all things of old really were so3 and all things in idea associated with that time1 whether real or fictitious1 are afforded a favorable entertainment4 ,now these associations are neither trivial nor fanciful3#aa for ,i remember to have discovered1 after visiting the ,british ,museum for the first time1 that the odour of camphor1 for which ,i had hitherto no predilection1 afforded me a peculiar satisfaction1 seemingly suggestive of things scientific or artistic2 it was in fact a literary smell6 ,all this was vague and unaccountable until some time after when this happened again1 and ,i was at once reminded of an enormous walrus at the ,british ,museum1 and then remembered how the whole collection1 from end to end1 was permeated with the odour of camphor6 ,still1 despite the consciousness of this1 the camphor retains its influence4 ,now let a poem1 a painting1 or sculpture1 smell ever so little of antiquity1 and every intelligent reader will be full of delightful imaginations4 #bnd4--,all things ancient are mysterious in obscurity3--veneration1 wonder1 and curiosity are the result4 #crd4--,all things ancient are dead and gone3--we sympathize with them accordingly4 ,all these effects of antiquity1 as a means of enforcing poetry1 declare it too powerful an ally to be readily abandoned by the poet4 ,to all this the painter will add that the costume of almost any ancient time is more beautiful than that of the present--added to which it exposes more of that most beautiful of all objects1 the human figure4 #aa ,here the author1 in the person of respondent1 takes occasion to narrate a real fact4 ,thus we have a formidable array of objections to the choice of present-day subjects3 and first1 it was objected and granted1 that incidents of the present time are well nigh barren in poetic attraction for the many4 ,then it was objected1 but not granted1 that their poetic or pictorial counterparts will be equally unattractive also3 but this last remains to be proved4 ,it was said1 and is believed by the author1 7and such as doubt it he does not address7 that all good men are more or less poetical in some way or other2 while their poetry shows itself at various times4 ,thus the business-man in the street has other to think of than poetry2 but when he is inclined to look at a picture1 or in his more poetical humour1 will he neglect the pictorial counterpart of what he neglected before8 ,to test this1 show him a camera obscura1 where there is a more literal transcript of present-day nature than any painting can be3--what is the result8 ,he expresses no anxiety to quit it1 but a great curiosity to investigate2 he feels it is very beautiful1 indeed more beautiful than nature3 and this he will say is because he does not see nature as an artist does4 ,now the solution of all this is easy3 #ast4 ,he is in a mood of mind which renders him accessible to the influences of poetry1 which was not before the case4 #bnd4 ,he looks at that steadily which he before regarded cursorily2 and1 as the picture remains in his eye1 it acquires an amount of harmony1 in behoof of an intrinsic harmony resident in the organ itself1 which exerts proportionately modifying influences on all things that enter within it2 and of the nervous harmony1 and the beautifully apportioned stimuli of alternating ocular spectra4 #crd4 ,there is a resolution of discord effected by the instrument itself1 inasmuch as its effects are homogeneous4 ,all these harmonizing influences are equally true of the painting2 and though we have no longer the homogeneous effect of the camera1 we have the homogeneous effect of one mind1 viz41 the mind of the artist4 ,thus having disproved the supposed poetical obstacles to the rendering of real life or nature in its own real garb and time1 as faithfully as ,art can render it1 nothing need be said to answer the advantages of the antique or mediaeval rendering2 since they were only called in to neutralize the aforesaid obstacles1 which obstacles have proved to be fictitious4 ,it remains then to consider the artistic objection of costume1 c41 which consideration ranges under the head of real differences between the things of past and present times1 a consideration formerly postponed4 ,but this requiring a patient analysis1 will necessitate a further postponement1 and in conclusion1 there will be briefly stated the elements of the argument1 thus4--,it must be obvious to every physicist that physical beauty 7which this subject involves on the one side the ancient as opposed to the want of it on the other the modern7 was in ancient times as superior to physical beauty in the modern1 as psychical beauty in the modern is superior to psychical beauty in the ancient4 ,costume then1 as physical1 is more beautiful ancient than modern4 ,now that a certain amount of physical beauty is requisite to constitute ,fine ,art1 will be readily admitted2 but what that amount is1 must be ever undefined4 ,that the maximum of physical beauty does not constitute the maximum of ,fine ,art1 is apparent from the facts of the physical beauty of ,early ,christian ,art being inferior to that of ,grecian art2 whilst1 in the concrete1 ,early ,christian ,art is superior to ,grecian4 ,indeed some specimens of ,early ,christian ,art are repulsive rather than beautiful1 yet these are in many cases the highest works of ,art4 ,in the ,plague at ,ashdod1 great physical beauty1 resulting from picturesque costume and the exposed human figure1 was so far from desirable1 that it seems purposely deformed by blotches of livid color2 yet the whole is a most noble work of ,poussin4 ,containing as much physical beauty as this picture1 the writer remembers to have seen an incident in the streets where a black-haired1 sordid1 wicked-headed man1 was striking the butt of his whip at the neck of a horse1 to urge him round an angle of the pavement2 a smocked countryman offered him the loan of his mules3 a blacksmith standing by1 showed him how to free the wheel1 by only swerving the animal to the left3 he1 taking no notice whatever1 went on striking and striking2 whilst a woman waiting to cross1 with a child in her one hand1 and with the other pushing its little head close to her side1 looked with wide eyes at this monster4 ,this familiar incident1 affording a subject fraught with more moral interest than1 and as much picturesque matter as1 many antique or mediaeval subjects1 is only wanting in that romantic attraction which1 by association1 attaches to things of the past4 ,yet1 let these modern subjects once excite interest1 as it really appears they can1 and the incidents of to-day will acquire romantic attractions by the same association of ideas4 ,the claims of ancient1 mediaeval1 and modern subjects will be considered in detail at a future period4 ,the ,carillon4 7,antwerp and ,bruges7 ,in these and others of the ,flemish ,towns1 the ,carillon1 or chimes which have a most fantastic and delicate music1 are played almost continually ,the custom is very ancient4 ,at ,antwerp1 there is a low wall ,binding the city1 and a moat ,beneath1 that the wind keeps afloat4 ,you pass the gates in a slow drawl ,of wheels4 ,if it is warm at all ,the ,carillon will give you thought4 ,i climbed the stair in ,antwerp church1 ,what time the urgent weight of sound ,at sunset seems to heave it round4 ,far up1 the ,carillon did search ,the wind2 and the birds came to perch ,far under1 where the gables wound4 ,in ,antwerp harbour on the ,scheldt ,i stood along1 a certain space ,of night4 ,the mist was near my face3 ,deep on1 the flow was heard and felt4 ,the ,carillon kept pause1 and dwelt ,in music through the silent place4 ,at ,bruges1 when you leave the train1 --,a singing numbness in your ears1-- ,the ,carillon's first sound appears ,only the inner moil4 ,again ,a little minute though--your brain ,takes quiet1 and the whole sense hears4 ,john ,memmeling and ,john ,van ,eyck ,hold state at ,bruges4 ,in sore shame ,i scanned the works that keep their name4 ,the ,carillon1 which then did strike ,mine ears1 was heard of theirs alike3 ,it set me closer unto them4 ,i climbed at ,bruges all the flight ,the ,belfry has of ancient stone4 ,for leagues ,i saw the east wind blown3 ,the earth was grey1 the sky was white4 ,i stood so near upon the height ,that my flesh felt the ,carillon4 ,october1 #ahdi4 ,emblems ,i lay through one long afternoon1 ,vacantly plucking the grass4 ,i lay on my back1 with steadfast gaze ,watching the cloud-shapes pass2 ,until the evening's chilly damps ,rose from the hollows below1 ,where the cold marsh-reeds grow4 ,i saw the sun sink down behind ,the high point of a mountain2 ,its last light lingered on the weeds ,that choked a shattered fountain1 ,where lay a rotting bird1 whose plumes ,had beat the air in soaring4 ,on these things ,i was poring3-- ,the sun seemed like my sense of life1 ,now weak1 that was so strong2 ,the fountain--that continual pulse ,which throbbed with human song3 ,the bird lay dead as that wild hope ,which nerved my thoughts when young4 ,these symbols had a tongue1 ,and told the dreary lengths of years ,i must drag my weight with me2 ,or be like a mastless ship stuck fast ,on a deep1 stagnant sea4 ,a man on a dangerous height alone1 ,if suddenly struck blind1 ,will never his home path find4 ,when divers plunge for ocean's pearls1 ,and chance to strike a rock1 ,who plunged with greatest force below ,receives the heaviest shock4 ,with nostrils wide and breath drawn in1 ,i rushed resolved on the race2 ,then1 stumbling1 fell in the chase4 ,yet with time's cycles forests swell ,where stretched a desert plain3 ,time's cycles make the mountains rise ,where heaved the restless main3 ,on swamps where moped the lonely stork1 ,in the silent lapse of time ,stands a city in its prime4 ,i thought3 then saw the broadening shade ,grow slowly over the mound1 ,that reached with one long level slope ,down to a rich vineyard ground3 ,the air about lay still and hushed1 ,as if in serious thought3 ,but ,i scarcely heeded aught1 ,till ,i heard1 hard by1 a thrush break forth1 ,shouting with his whole voice1 ,so that he made the distant air ,and the things around rejoice4 ,my soul gushed1 for the sound awoke ,memories of early joy3 ,i sobbed like a chidden boy4 ,sonnet3 ,early ,aspirations ,how many a throb of the young poet-heart1 ,aspiring to the ideal bliss of ,fame1 ,deems that ,time soon may sanctify his claim ,among the sons of song to dwell apart4-- ,time passes--passes6 ,the aspiring flame ,of ,hope shrinks down2 the white flower ,poesy ,breaks on its stalk1 and from its earth-turned eye ,drop sleepy tears instead of that sweet dew ,rich with inspiring odours1 insect wings ,drew from its leaves with every changing sky1 ,while its young innocent petals unsunn'd grew4 ,no more in pride to other ears he sings1 ,but with a dying charm himself unto3-- ,for a sad season3 then1 to active life he springs4 ,from the ,cliffs3 ,noon ,the sea is in its listless chime3 ,time's lapse it is1 made audible1-- ,the murmur of the earth's large shell4 ,in a sad blueness beyond rhyme ,it ends3 sense1 without thought1 can pass ,no stadium further4 ,since time was1 ,this sound hath told the lapse of time4 ,no stagnance that death wins1--it hath ,the mournfulness of ancient life1 ,always enduring at dull strife4 ,as the world's heart of rest and wrath1 ,its painful pulse is in the sands4 ,last utterly1 the whole sky stands1 ,grey and not known1 along its path4 ,fancies at ,leisure ,i4 ,in ,spring ,the sky is blue here1 scarcely with a stain ,of grey for clouds3 here the young grasses gain ,a larger growth of green over this splinter ,fallen from the ruin4 ,spring seems to have told ,winter ,he shall not freeze again here4 ,tho' their loss ,of leaves is not yet quite repaired1 trees toss ,sprouts from their boughs4 ,the ash you called so stiff ,curves1 daily1 broader shadow down the cliff4 ,,ii4 ,in ,summer ,how the rooks caw1 and their beaks seem to clank6 ,let us just move out there1--7it might be cool ,under those trees17 and watch how the thick tank ,by the old mill is black1--a stagnant pool ,of rot and insects4 ,there goes by a lank ,dead hairy dog floating4 ,will ,nature's rule ,of life return hither no more8 ,the plank ,rots in the crushed weeds1 and the sun is cruel4 ,,iii4 ,the ,breadth of ,noon ,long time ,i lay there1 while a breeze would blow ,from the south softly1 and1 hard by1 a slender ,poplar swayed to and fro to it4 ,surrender ,was made of all myself to quiet4 ,no ,least thought was in my mind of the least woe3 ,yet the void silence slowly seemed to render ,my calmness not less calm1 but yet more tender1 ,and ,i was nigh to weeping4--',ere ,i go1' ,i thought1 ',i must make all this stillness mine2 ,the sky's blue almost purple1 and these three ,hills carved against it1 and the pine on pine ,the wood in their shade has4 ,all this ,i see ,so inwardly ,i fancy it may be ,seen thus of parted souls by their sunshine4' ,,iv4 ,sea-,freshness ,look at that crab there4 ,see if you can't haul ,his backward progress to this spar of a ship ,thrown up and sunk into the sand here4 ,clip ,his clipping feelers hard1 and give him all ,your hand to gripe at3 he'll take care not fall3 ,so1--but with heed1 for you are like to slip ,in stepping on the plank's sea-slime4 ,your lip-- ,no wonder--curves in mirth at the slow drawl ,of the squat creature's legs4 ,we've quite a shine ,of waves round us1 and here there comes a wind ,so fresh it must bode us good luck4 ,how long ,boatman1 for one and sixpence8 ,line by line ,the sea comes toward us sun-ridged4 ,oh6 we sinned ,taking the crab out3 let's redress his wrong4 ,v4 ,the ,fire ,smouldering ,i look into the burning coals1 and see ,faces and forms of things2 but they soon pass1 ,melting one into other3 the firm mass ,crumbles1 and breaks1 and fades gradually1 ,shape into shape as in a dream may be1 ,into an image other than it was3 ,and so on till the whole falls in1 and has ,not any likeness1--face1 and hand1 and tree1 ,all gone4 ,so with the mind3 thought follows thought1 ,this hastening1 and that pressing upon this1 ,a mighty crowd within so narrow room3 ,and then at length heavy-eyed slumbers come1 ,the drowsy fancies grope about1 and miss ,their way1 and what was so alive is nought4 ,papers of ,the ,m4,s4 ,society #ab #ab ,the ,editor is requested to state that ,m4 ,s4 does not here mean ,manuscript4 ,no4 ,i4 ,an ,incident in the ,siege of ,troy1 seen from a modern ,observatory ,sixteen ,specials in ,priam's ,keep ,sat down to their mahogany3 ,the ,league1 just then1 had made busters cheap1 ,and ,hesiod writ his ,theogony1 ,a work written to prove that1 if men would be men1 ,and demand their rights again and again1 ,they might live like gods1 have infinite smokes1 ,drink infinite rum1 drive infinite mokes1 ,which would come from every part of the known ,and civilized globe1 twice as good as their own1 ,and1 finally1 ,ilion1 the work-shop should be ,of the world--one vast manufactory6 ,from arrow-slits1 port-holes1 windows1 what not1 ,their sixteen quarrels the ,specials had shot ,from sixteen arblasts1 their daily task2 ,why they'd to do it they didn't ask1 ,for1 after they'd done it1 they sat down to dinner2 ,the sixteen ,specials they didn't get thinner2 ,but kept quite loyal1 and every day ,asked no questions but fired away4 ,would you like me to tell you the reason why ,these sixteen ,specials kept letting fly ,from eleven till one1 as the ,chronicle speaks8 ,they did it1 my boys1 to annoy the ,greeks1 ,who kept up a perpetual cannonade ,on the walls1 and threaten'd an escalade4 ,the sixteen ,specials were so arranged ,that the shots they shot were not shots exchanged1 ,but every shot so told on the foe ,the ,greeks were obliged to draw it mild3 ,diomedes--,a fix1 ,ulysses--,no go ,declared it1 the king of men cried like a child2 ,whilst the ,specials1 no more than a fine black ,tom ,i keep to serenade ,mary from ,the tiles1 where he lounges every night1 ,knew nor cared what they did1 and were perfectly right4 ,but the fact was thus3 one ,helenus1 ,a man much faster than any of us1 ,more fast than a gent at the top of a bus1 ,more fast than the coming of ,per col4 sus4 ,which ,shakespeare says comes galloping1 7,i take his word for anything7 ,this ,helenus had a cure of souls-- ,he had cured the souls of several ,greeks1 ,achilles sole or heel1--the rolls ,of fame 7not ,french7 say ,paris3--speaks ,anatomist ,quain thereof4 ,who seeks ,may read the story from z to a2 ,he has handled and argued it every way2-- ,a subject on which there's a good deal to say4 ,his work was ever the best1 and still is1 ,because of this note on the ,tendo ,achillis4 ,this ,helenus was a man well bred1 ,he was up in ,electricity1 ,fortification1 ,theology1 aesthetics and ,pugilicity2 ,celsus and ,gregory he'd read2 ,knew every dodge of glove and fist2 ,was a capital curate1 7,i think ,i've said7 ,and ,transcendental ,anatomist3 ,well up in ,materia ,medica1 ,right up in ,toxicology1 ,and ,medical ,jurisprudence1 that sell6 ,and the dead sell ,physiology3 ,knew what and how much of any potation ,would get him through any examination3 ,with credit not small1 had passed the ,hall ,and the ,college----and they couldn't pluck him at all4 ,he'd written on ,rail-roads1 delivered a lecture ,upon the ,electric ,telegraph1 ,had played at single-stick with ,hector1 ,and written a paper on half-and-half4 ,with those and other works of note ,he was not at all a people's man1 ,though public1 for the works he wrote ,were not that sort the people can ,admire or read2 they were ,mathematic ,the most part1 some were ,hydrostatic2 ,but ,algebraic1 in the main1 ,and full of a1 b1 c1 and n-- ,and other letters which perplex-- ,the last was full of double x6 ,in fact1 such stuff as one may easily ,imagine1 didn't go down greasily1 ,nor calculated to produce ,such heat as cooks the public goose1 ,and does it of so brown a hue ,men wonder while they relish too4 ,it therefore was that much alone ,he studied2 and a room is shown ,in a coffee-house1 an upper room1 ,where none but hungry devils come1 ,wherein 'tis said1 with animation ,he read ,vestiges of ,creation4 ,accordingly1 a month about ,after he'd chalked up steak and stout ,for the last time1 he gave the world ,a pamphlet1 wherein he unfurled ,a tissue of facts which1 soon as blown1 ,ran like wildfire through the town4 ,and1 first of all1 he plainly showed ,a capital error in the mode ,of national defences1 thus-- ,the ,greek one thousand miles from us1 ,said he1 7for nine hundred and ninety-nine ,the citadel stood above the brine ,in perpendicular height1 allowing ,for slope of glacis1 thereby showing ,an increase of a mile17 'tis plain ,the force that shot and shell would gain1 ,by gravitation1 with their own1 ,would fire the ground by friction alone2 ,which1 being once in fusion schooled ,ere cool1 as ,fire-mist had cooled ,would gain a motion1 which must soon1 ,just as the earth detached the moon ,and gave her locomotive birth1 ,detach some twenty miles of earth1 ,and send it swinging in the air1 ,the ,devil only could tell where6 ,then came the probability ,with what increased facility ,the ,greeks1 by this projectile power1 ,might land on ,ilion's highest tower1 ,all safe and sound1 in battle array1 ,with howitzers prepared to play1 ,and muskets to the muzzles rammed2-- ,why1 the town would be utterly smashed and jammed1 ,and positively1 as the phrase is ,vernacular1 be sent to blazes6 ,in the second place1 he then would ask1 7,and here he took several members to task1 ,and wondered--he really must presume ,to wonder a statesman like--you know whom-- ,who ever evinced the deepest sense ,of a crying sin in any expense1 ,should so besotted be1 and lost ,to the fact that now1 at public cost1 ,powder was being day by day ,wantonly wasted1 blown away72-- ,yes1 he would ask1 with what intent ,but to perch the ,greeks on a battlement ,from which they might o'erlook the town1 ,the easier to batter it down1 ,which he had proved must be the case 7,if it hadn't already taken place73 ,he called on his readers to fear and dread it1 ,whilst he wrote it1--whilst they read it6 ,how simple6 ,how beautifully simple1 said he1 ,and obvious was the remedy6 ,look back a century or so-- ,and there was the ancient ,norman bow1 ,a weapon 7he gave them leave to laugh7 ,efficient1 better1 cheaper by half3 7,he knew quite well the age abused it ,because1 forsooth1 the ,normans used it7 ,these1 planted in the citadel1 ,would reach the walls say1--very well2 ,there1 having spent their utmost force1 ,they'd drop down right1 as a matter of course1 ,a thousand miles6 ,think--a thousand miles6 ,what was the weight for driving piles ,to this8 ,he calculated it-- ',twould equal1 when both ,houses sit1 ,the weight of the entire building1 ,including ,members1 paint1 and gilding2 ,but1 if a speech or the address ,from the throne were given1 something less1 ,because1 as certain snores aver1 ,the ,house is then much heavier4 ,now this1 though very much a rub like ,for ,ministers1 convinced the public2 ,and ,priam1 who liked to hear its brays ,to any tune but the ,marseillaise1 ,summoned a ,privy ,council1 where ',twas shortly settled to confer ,on ,helenus a sole command ,of ,specials4--,he headed that daring band6 ,and sixteen ,specials in ,priam's keep ,got up from their mahogany2 ,they smoked their pipes in silence deep ,till there was such a fog--any ,attempt to discover the priest in the smother ,had bothered old ,airy and ,adams and t'other ,and--,every son of an ,english mother4 ,june1 #ahdh4 ,no4 ,,ii4 ,swift's ,dunces ,when a true genius appears in the world1 you may know him by this sign1 that the ,,dunces are all in confederacy against him4--,swift4 ,how shall we know the dunces from the man of genius1 who is no doubt our superior in judgment1 yet knows himself for a fool--by the proverb8 ,at least1 my dear ,doctor1 you will let me1 with the mass of readers1 have clearer wits than the dunces--then why should ,i not know what you are as soon as1 or sooner than ,bavius1 c4--unless a dunce has a good nose1 or a natural instinct for detecting wit4 ,now ,i take it that these people stigmatized as dunces are but men of ill-balanced mental faculties1 yet perhaps1 in a great degree1 superior to the average of minds4 ,for instance1 a poet of much merit1 but more ambition1 has written the ,lampiad1 an epic2 when he should not have dared beyond the ,doric reed3 his ambitious pride has prevented the publication of excellent pastorals1 therefore the world only knows him for his failure4 ,this1 ,i say1 is a likely man to become a detractor2 for his good judgment shows the imperfections of most works1 his own included2 his ambition 7an ill-combination of self-conscious worth and spleen7 leads him to compare works of the highest repute2 the works of contemporaries2 and his own4 ,in all cases where success is most difficult1 he will be most severe2 this naturally leads him to criticise the very best works4 ,he has himself failed2 he sees errors in successful writers2 he knows he possesses certain merits1 and knows what the perfection of them should be4 ,this is the ground work of envy1 which makes a man of parts a comparative fool1 and a confederate against true genius4 ,no4 ,,iii4 ,mental ,scales ,i make out my case thus-- ,there is an exact balance in the distribution of causes of pleasure and pain3 this has been satisfactorily proved in my next paper1 upon ,cause and ,effect1 therefore ,i shall take it for granted4 ,what1 then1 is there but the mind to determine its own state of happiness1 or misery3 just as the motion of the scales depends upon themselves1 when two equal weights are put into them4 ,the balance ought to be truly hung2 but if the unpleasant scale is heavier1 then the motion is in favor of the pleasant scale1 and vice versa4 ,whether the beam stands horizontally1 or otherwise1 does not matter 7that only determines the key73 draw a line at right angles to it1 then put in your equal weights2 if the angle becomes larger on the unpleasant scale's side of the line1 happiness is the result1 if on the other1 misery4 ,it requires but a slight acquaintance with mechanics to see that he who would be happy should have the unpleasant side heavier4 ,i hate corollaries or we might have a group of them equally applicable to ,art and ,models4 ,june1 #ahdh4 ,reviews ,some ,account of the ,life and ,adventures of ,sir ,reginald ,mohun1 ,bart4 ,done in ,verse by ,george ,john ,cayley4 ,canto #ast4 ,pickering4 #ahdi4 ,inconsistency1 whether in matters of importance or in trifles1 whether in substance or in detail1 is never pleasant4 ,we do not here impute to this poem any inconsistency between one portion and another2 but certainly its form is at variance with its subject and treatment4 ,in the wording of the title1 and the character of typography1 there is a studious archaism3 more modern the poem itself could scarcely be4 ,sir ,reginald ,mohun aims1 to judge from the present sample1 at depicting the easy intercourse of high life2 and the author enters on his theme with a due amount of sympathy4 ,it is in this respect1 if in any1 that the mediaeval tone of the work lasts beyond the title page4 ,in ,mr4 ,cayley's eyes1 the proof of the comparative prosperity of ,england is that ,still ,queen ,victoria sits upon her throne2 ,our aristocracy still keep alive1 ,and1 on the whole1 may still be said to thrive1-- ,tho' now and then with ducal acres groan ,the honored tables of the auctioneer4 ,nathless1 our aristocracy is dear1 ,tho' their estates go cheap2 and all must own ,that they still give society its tone4--p4 #af4 ,he proceeds in these terms3 ,our baronets of late appear to be ,unjustly snubbed and talked and written down2 ,partly from follies of ,sir ,something ,brown1 ,stickling for badges due to their degree1 ,and partly that their honor's late editions ,have been much swelled with surgeons and physicians2 ,for 'honor hath small skill in surgery1' ,and skill in surgery small honor4--p4 #ag4 ,what honor is here meant8 and against whom is the taunt implied8--against the surgeons and physicians1 or against the depreciation of them4 ,surely the former can hardly have been intended4 ,the sentence will bear to be cleared of some ambiguity1 or else to be cleared off altogether4 ,our introduction to ,sir ,reginald ,mohun1 ,lord of ,nornyth ,place1 and of an income clear of #bj1jjj pounds1 and to his friends ,raymond ,st4 ,oun1 ,de ,lacy1 ,wilton1 ,tancarville1 and ,vivian--7for the author's names are aristocratic1 like his predilections7--is effected through the medium of a stanza1 new1 we believe1 in arrangement1 though differing but slightly from the established octave1 and of verses so easy and flowing as to make us wonder less at the promise of provision plenty ,for cantos twelve1 or may be1 four and twenty1 than at ,mr4 ,cayley's assertion that he ,can never get along at all in prose4 ,the incidents1 as might be expected of a first canto1 are neither many nor important1 and will admit of compression into a very small compass4 ,sir ,reginald1 whose five friends had arrived at ,nornyth ,place late on the preceding night1 is going over the grounds with them in a shooting party after a late breakfast4 ,st4 ,oun expresses a wish to prowl about the place in preference1 not feeling in the mood for the required exertion4 ',of lazy dogs the laziest ever fate ,set on two useless legs you surely are1 ,and born beneath some wayward sauntering star ,to sit for ever swinging on a gate1 ,and laugh at wiser people passing through4' ,so spake the bard ,de ,lacy3 for they two ,in frequent skirmishes of fierce debate ,would bicker1 tho' their mutual love was great4--p4 #ce4 ,mohun1 however1 sides with ,st4 ,oun1 and agrees to escort him in his rambles after the first few shots4 ,he accordingly soon resigns his gun to the keeper ,oswald1 whose position as one who came into possession ,of the head-keepership by due succession ,thro' sire and grandsire1 who1 when one was dead1 ,left his right heir-male keeper in his stead1 ,mr4 ,cayley evidently regards with some complacence4 ,the friends enter a boat3 here1 while sailing along a rivulet that winds through the estate1 ,st4 ,oun falls to talking of wealth1 its value and insufficiency1 of death1 and life1 and fame2 and coming at length to ask after the history of ,sir ,reginald's past life1 he suggests this true epic opening for relation3 ',the sun1 from his meridian heights declining ,mirrored his richest tints upon the shining ,bosom of a lake4 ,in a light shallop1 two ,young men1 whose dress1 etcaetera1 proclaims1 ,etcaetera1--so would write ,g4,p4,r4 ,james-- ,glided in silence o'er the waters blue1 ,skirting the wooded slopes4 ,upward they gazed ,on ,nornyth's ancient pile1 whose windows blazed ',in sunset rays1 whose crimson fulgence streamed ,across the flood3 wrapped in deep thought they seemed4 ',you are pensive1 ,reginald1' at length thus spake ,the helmsman3 'ha6 it is the mystic power ,fraught by the sacred stillness of the hour3 ,forgive me if your reverie ,i break1 ,craving1 with friendship's sympathy1 to share ,your spirit's burden1 be it joy or care4'--pp4 #dh1 #di4 ,sir ,reginald ,mohun's story is soon told4--,born in ,italy1 and losing his mother at the moment of his birth1 and his father and only sister dying also soon after1 he is left alone in the world4 ',my father was a melancholy man1 ,having a touch of genius1 and a heart1 ,but not much of that worldly better part ,called force of character1 which finds some plan ,for getting over anguish that will crush ,weak hearts of stronger feeling4 ,he began ,to pine2 was pale2 and had a hectic flush ,at times2 and from his eyelids tears would gush4 ',some law of hearts afflicted seems to bind ,a spell by which the scenes of grief grew dear2 ,he never could leave ,italy1 tho' here ,and there he wandered with unquiet mind1-- ,rome1 ,florence1 ,mantua1 ,milan2 once as far ,as ,venice2 but still ,naples had a blind ,attraction which still drew him thither4 ,there ,he died4 ,heaven rest his ashes from their care4 ',he wrote1 a month or so before he died1 ,to ,wilton's father2 7he is ,earl of ,eure1 ,my mother's brother72 saying he was sure ,that he should soon be gone1 and would confide ,us to his guardian care4 ,my uncle came ,before his death4 ,we stood by his bedside4 ,he blessed us4 ,we1 who scarcely knew the name ,of death1 yet read in the expiring flame ',of his sunk eyes some awful mystery1 ,and wept we knew not why4 ,there was a grace ,of radiant joyful hope upon his face1 ,most unaccustomed1 and which seemed to be ,all foreign to his wasted frame2 and yet ,so heavenly in its consolation we ,smiled through the tears with which our lids were wet4 ,his lips were cold1 as1 whispering1 ',do not fret ',when ,i am gone1' he kissed us3 and he took ,our uncle's hands1 which on our heads he laid1 ,and said3 ',my children1 do not be afraid ,of ,death1 but be prepared to meet him4 ,look2 ,here is your mother's brother2 he to her ,as ,reginald to ,eve4' ,his thin voice shook4-- ',eve was your ,mother's name4' ,his words did err1 ,as dreaming2 and his wan lips ceased to stir4'--pp4 #ee-eg4 7,we have quoted this passage1 not insensible to its defects1--some common-place in sentiment and diction2 but independently of the good it does really contain1 as being the only one of such a character sustained in quality to a moderate length47 ,reginald and his cousin ,wilton grew up together friends1 though not bound by common sympathies4 ,the latter has known life early1 and earned experience piecemeal3 with the former1 thought has already become a custom4 ,thus far only does ,reginald bring his retrospect2 his other friends come up1 and they all return homeward4 ,here1 too1 ends the story of this canto2 but not without warranting some surmise of what will furnish out the next4 ,there is evidence of observation adroitly applied in the talk of the two under-keepers who take charge of the boat4 ,they said3 ',oh6 what a gentleman to talk ,is that there ,lacy6 ,what a tongue he've got6 ,but ,mr4 ,vivian is a pretty shot4 ,and what a pace his lordship wish to walk6 ,which ,mr4 ,tancarville1 he seemed quite beat3 ,but he's a pleasant gentleman4 ,good lawk6 ,how he do make me laugh6 ,dang6 this 'ere seat ,have wet my smalls slap thro'4 ,dang6 what a treat6 ',there's company coming to the ,place to morn3 ,bess housemaid told me4 ,lord and ,lady----3 dash ,my wigs6 ,i can't think on4 ,but there's a mash ,o' comp'ny and fine ladies2 fit to torn ,the heads of these young chaps4 ,why now ,i'd lay ,this here gun to an empty powder-horn ,sir ,reginald be in love1 or that-a-way4 ,he looks a little downcast-loikish1--eh8'--pp4#fb1 #fc4 ,it will be observed that there is no vulgarity in this vulgarism3 indeed1 the gentlemanly good humour of the poem is uninterrupted4 ,this1 combined with neatness of handling1 and the habit of not over-doing1 produces that general facility of appearance which it is no disparagement1 in speaking of a first canto1 to term the chief result of so much of these life and adventures as is here done into verse4 ,it may be fairly anticipated1 however1 that no want of variety in the conception1 or of success in the pourtrayal1 of character will need to be complained of3 meanwhile1 a few passages may be quoted to confirm our assertions4 ,the two first extracts are examples of mere cleverness2 and all that is aimed at is attained4 ,the former follows out a previous comparison of the world with a huge churn4 ,yet some1 despising life's legitimate aim1 ,instead of butter1 would become the cheese2 ,a low term for distinction4 ,whence the name ,i know not3 gents invented it2 and these ,gave not an etymology4 ,i see no ,likelier than this1 which with their taste agrees2 ,the caseine element ,i conceive to mean no ,less than the beau ideal of the ,casino4--p4#ab4 ,wise were the ,augurers of old1 nor erred ,in substance1 deeming that the life of man-- 7,this is a new reflection1 spick and span7-- ,may be much influenced by the flight of birds4 ,our senate can no longer hold their house ,when culminates the evil star of grouse2 ,and stoutest patriots will their shot-belts gird ,when first o'er stubble-field hath partridge whirred4--p4#be4 ,in these others there is more purpose1 with a no less definite conciseness3 ,comes forth the first great poet4 ,then a number ,of followers leave much literary lumber4 ,he cuts his phrases in the sapling grain ,of language2 and so weaves them at his will4 ,they from his wickerwork extract with pain ,the wands now warped and stiffened1 which but ill ,bend to their second-hand employment4--pp4 #d1 #e4 ,what's life8 ,a riddle2 ,or sieve which sifts you thro' it in the middle4--p4#de4 ,the misadventures of the five friends on their road to ,nornyth are very sufficiently described3 ,the night was cold and cloudy as they topped ,a moorland slope1 and met the bitter blast1 ,so cutting that their ears it almost cropped2 ,and rain began to fall extremely fast4 ,a broken sign-post left them in great doubt ,about two roads2 and1 when an hour was passed1 ,they learned their error from a lucid lout2 ,soon after1 one by one1 their lamps went out4--p4#bi4 ,there remains to point out one fault1--and that the last fault the occurrence of which could be looked for1 after so clearly expressed an intention as this3 ,but1 if an ,author takes to writing fine1 7,which means1 ,i think1 an artificial tone71 ,the public sicken and won't read a line4 ,i hope there's nothing of this sort in mine4--p4 #f4 ,a quotation or two will fully explain our meaning3 and we would seriously ask ,mr4 ,cayley to reflect whether he has always borne his principle in mind1 and avoided writing fine2 whether he has not sometimes fallen into high-flown common-place of the most undisguised stamp1 rendered1 moreover1 doubly inexcusable and out of place by being put into the mouth of one of the personages of the poem2 ,it is ,sir ,reginald ,mohun that speaks2 and truly1 though not thrust forward as a wondrous paragon of praise1 he must be confessed to be1 ,judging by specimens the author quotes1 ,an utterer of most ordinary phrases1 not words only and sentences1 but real phrases1 in the more distinct and specific sense of the term4 ',there1 while yet a new born thing1 ,death o'er my cradle waved his darksome wing2 ,my mother died to give me birth3 forlorn ,i came into the world1 a babe of woe1 ,ill-omened from my childhood's early morn2 ,yet heir to what the idolators of show ,deem life's good things1 which earthly bliss bestow4 ',the riches of the heart they call a dream2 ,love1 hope1 faith1 friendship1 hollow phantasies3 ,living but for their pockets and their eyes1 ,they stifle in their breasts the purer beam ,of sunshine glanced from heaven upon their clay1 ,to be its light and warmth4 ,this is a theme ,for homilies3 and ,i will only say1 ,the heart feeds not on fortune's baubles gay4'--p4 #ea4 ,sir ,reginald's narrative concludes after this fashion3 ',but what is this8 ,a dubious compromise2 ,twilight of cloudy zones1 whereon the blaze ,of sunshine breaks but seldom with its rays ,of heavenly hope1 towards which the spirit sighs ,its aspirations1 and is lost again ',mid doubts3 to grasp the wisdom of the skies ,too feeble1 tho' convinced earth's bonds are vain1 ,cowering faint-hearted in the festering chain4'--p4 #fj4 ,a similar instance of conventionality constantly repeated is the sin of inversion1 which is no less prevalent1 throughout the poem1 in the conversational than in the narrative portions4 ,in some cases the exigencies of rhyme may be pleaded in palliation1 as for ,cam's marge along and breezy willows cool1 which occur in two consecutive lines of a speech2 but there are many for which no such excuse can be urged4 ,does any one talk of sloth obscure1 or of hearts afflicted8 ,or what reason is there for preferring verses easy to easy verses8 ,ought not the principle laid down in the following passage of the introduction to be followed out1 not only into the intention1 but into the manner and quality also1 of the whole work8 ',i mean to be sincere in this my lay3 ,that which ,i think ,i shall write down without ,a drop of pain or varnish4 ,therefore1 pray1 ,whatever ,i may chance to rhyme about1 ,read it without the shadow of a doubt4'--p4 #ab4 ,again1 the ,author appears to us to have acted unwisely in occasionally departing from the usual construction of his stanzas1 as in this instance3 ',but1 as ,i said1 you know my history2 ,and your's--not that you made a mystery ,of it1 nor used reserve1 yet1 being not ,by nature an ,autophonophilete1 7,a word ,de ,lacy fashioned and called me it7-- ,your's you have never told me yet4 ,and what ,can be a more appropriate occasion ,than this true epic opening for relation8'--p4 #dh4 ,here the lines do not cohere so happily as in the more varied distribution of the rhymes2 and1 moreover1 as a question of principle1 we think it not advisable to allow of minor deviations from the uniformity of a prescribed metre4 ,it may be well to take leave of ,mr4 ,cayley with a last quotation of his own words1--words which no critic ought to disregard3 ,i shall be deeply grateful to reviews1 ,whether they deign approval1 or rebuke1 ,for any hints they think may disabuse ,delusions of my inexperienced muse4--p4#h4 ,if our remarks have been such as to justify the ,author's wish for sincere criticism1 our object is attained2 and we look forward for the second canto with confidence in his powers4 ,published ,monthly4--,price ,one ,s4 ,art and ,poetry1 ,being ,thoughts towards ,nature4 ,conducted principally by ,artists4 ,of the little worthy the name of writing that has ever been written upon the principles of ,art1 7of course excepting that on the mere mechanism71 a very small portion is by ,artists themselves2 and that is so scattered1 that one scarcely knows where to find the ideas of an ,artist except in his pictures4 ,with a view to obtain the thoughts of ,artists1 upon ,nature as evolved in ,art1 in another language besides their own proper one1 this ,periodical has been established4 ,thus1 then1 it is not open to the conflicting opinions of all who handle the brush and palette1 nor is it restricted to actual practitioners2 but is intended to enunciate the principles of those who1 in the true spirit of ,art1 enforce a rigid adherence to the simplicity of ,nature either in ,art or ,poetry1 and consequently regardless whether emanating from practical ,artists1 or from those who have studied nature in the ,artist's ,school4 ,hence this work will contain such original ,tales 7in prose or verse71 ,poems1 ,essays1 and the like1 as may seem conceived in the spirit1 or with the intent1 of exhibiting a pure and unaffected style1 to which purpose analytical ,reviews of current ,literature--especially ,poetry--will be introduced2 as also illustrative ,etchings1 one of which latter1 executed with the utmost care and completeness1 will appear in each number4 ,no4 #d4 7,price ,one ,shilling47 ,,may1 #ahej4 ,with an ,etching by ,w4,h4 ,deverell4 ,art and ,poetry3 ,being ,thoughts towards ,nature ,conducted principally by ,artists4 ,when whoso merely hath a little thought ,will plainly think the thought which is in him1-- ,not imaging another's bright or dim1 ,not mangling with new words what others taught2 ,when whoso speaks1 from having either sought ,or only found1--will speak1 not just to skim ,a shallow surface with words made and trim1 ,but in that very speech the matter brought3 ,be not too keen to cry--,so this is all6-- ,a thing ,i might myself have thought as well1 ,but would not say it1 for it was not worth6 ,ask3 ,is this truth8 ,for is it still to tell ,that1 be the theme a point or the whole earth1 ,truth is a circle1 perfect1 great or small8 ,london3 ,,dickinson ,co41 #aad1 ,,new ,,bond ,,street1 ,,and ,,aylott ,,jones1 #h1 ,,paternoster ,,row4 ,g4 ,f ,tupper1 ,printer1 ,clement's ,lane1 ,lombard ,street4 ,,contents4 ,etching4--,viola and ,olivia4 ,viola and ,olivia #ade ,a ,dialogue4--,john ,orchard #adf ,on a ,whit-sunday ,morn in the ,month of ,may4--,john ,orchard #afg ,modern ,giants4--,laura ,savage #afi ,to the ,castle ,ramparts--,w4,m4 ,rossetti #agc ,pax ,vobis4--,dante ,g4 ,rossetti #agf ,a ,modern ,idyl4--,walter ,h4 ,deverell #agg ,jesus ,wept4--,w4,m4 ,rossetti #agi ,sonnets for ,pictures4--,dante ,g ,rossetti #ahj ,papers of ,the ,m4 ,s4 ,society1 ,no ,,iv4 ,smoke #ahc ,no4 ,v4 ,rain #ahf ,review3 ,christmas ,eve and ,easter ,day4--,w4,m4 ,rossetti #ahg ,the ,evil under the ,sun #aib ,the ,subscribers to this ,work are respectfully informed that the future ,numbers will appear on the last day of the ,month for which they are dated4 ,also1 that a supplementary1 or large-sized ,etching will occasionally be given4 ,illustration ,viola and ,olivia ,when ,viola1 a servant of the ,duke1 ,of him she loved the page1 went1 sent by him1 ,to tell ,olivia that great love which shook ,his breast and stopt his tongue2 was it a whim1 ,or jealousy or fear that she must look ,upon the face of that ,olivia8 ',tis hard to say if it were whim or fear ,or jealousy1 but it was natural1 ,as natural as what came next1 the near ,intelligence of hearts3 ,olivia ,loveth1 her eye abused by a thin wall ,of custom1 but her spirit's eyes were clear4 ,clear8 we have oft been curious to know ,the after-fortunes of those lovers dear2 ,having a steady faith some deed must show ,that they were married souls--unmarried here-- ,having an inward faith that love1 called so ,in verity1 is of the spirit1 clear ,of earth and dress and sex--it may be near ,what ,viola returned ,olivia8 ,a ,dialogue on ,art ,the following paper had been sent as a contribution to this publication scarcely more than a week before its author1 ,mr4 ,john ,orchard1 died4 ,it was written to commence a series of ,dialogues on ,art1 which death has rendered for ever incomplete3 nevertheless1 the merits of this commencement are such that they seemed to warrant its publication as a fragment2 and in order that the chain of argument might be preserved1 so far as it goes1 uninterrupted1 the dialogue is printed entire in the present number1 despite its length4 ,of the writer1 but little can be said4 ,he was an artist2 but ill health1 almost amounting to infirmity--his portion from childhood--rendered him unequal to the bodily labour inseparable from his profession3 and in the course of his short life1 whose youth was scarcely consummated1 he exhibited1 from time to time1 only a very few small pictures1 and these1 as regards public recognition1 in no way successfully4 ,in art1 however1 he gave to the seeing eye1 token of that ability and earnestness which the hearing ear will not fail to recognize in the dialogue now published2 where the vehicle of expression1 being more purely intellectual1 was more within his grasp than was the physical and toilsome embodiment of art4 ,it is possible that a search among the papers he has left1 may bring to light a few other fugitive pieces1 which will1 in such event1 as the ,poem succeeding this ,dialogue1 be published in these pages4 ,to the end that the ,author's scheme may be1 as far as is now possible1 understood and appreciated1 we subjoin1 in his own words1 some explanation of his further intent1 and of the views and feelings which guided him in the composition of the dialogue3 ,i have adopted the form of dialogue for several1 to me1 cogent reasons2 #ast1 because it gives the writer the power of exhibiting the question1 ,art1 on all its sides2 #bnd1 because the great phases of ,art could be represented idiosyncratically2 and1 to make this clear1 ,i have named the several speakers accordingly2 #crd1 because dialogue secures the attention2 and1 that secured1 deeper things strike1 and go deeper than otherwise they could be made to2 and1 #dth and last1 because all my earliest and most delightful pleasures associate themselves with dialogue1--7the old dramatists1 ,lucian1 ,walter ,savage ,landor1 c47 ,you will find that ,i have not made one speaker say a thing on purpose for another to condemn it2 but that ,i make each one utter his wisest in the very wisest manner he can1 or rather1 that ,i can for him4 ,the further continuation of this #ast dialogue embraces the question ,nature1 and its processes1 invention and imitation1--imitation chiefly4 ,kosmon begins by showing1 in illustration of the truth of ,christian's concluding sentences1 how imperfectly all the ,ancients1 excepting the ,hebrews1 loved1 understood1 or felt ,nature1 c4 ,this is not an unimportant portion of ,art knowledge4 ,i must not forget to say that the last speech of ,kosmon will be answered by ,christian when they discourse of imitation4 ,it properly belongs to imitation2 and1 under that head1 it can be most effectively and perfectly confuted4 ,somewhat after this idea1 the verticalism and involution will be shown to be direct from ,nature2 the gilding1 c41 disposed of on the ground of the old piety using the most precious materials as the most religious and worthy of them2 and hence1 by a very easy and probable transition1 they concluded that that which was most soul-worthy1 was also most natural4 ,dialogue ,i41 in the ,house of ,kalon ,kalon4 ,welcome1 my friends3--this day above all others2 to-day is the first day of spring4 ,may it be the herald of a bountiful year1--not alone in harvests of seeds4 ,great impulses are moving through man2 swift as the steam-shot shuttle1 weaving some mighty pattern1 goes the new birth of mind4 ,as yet1 hidden from eyes is the design3 whether it be poetry1 or painting1 or music1 or architecture1 or whether it be a divine harmony of all1 no manner of mind can tell2 but that it is mighty1 all manners of minds1 moved to involuntary utterance1 affirm4 ,the intellect has at last again got to work upon thought3 too long fascinated by matter and prisoned to motive geometry1 genius--wisdom seem once more to have become human1 to have put on man1 and to speak with divine simplicity4 ,kosmon1 ,sophon1 again welcome6 your journey is well-timed2 ,christian1 my young friend1 of whom ,i have often written to you1 this morning tells me by letter that to-day he will pay me his long-promised visit4 ,you1 ,i know1 must rejoice to meet him3 this interchange of knowledge cannot fail to improve us1 both by knocking down and building up3 what is true we shall hold in common2 what is false not less in common detest4 ,the debateable ground1 if at last equally debateable as it was at first1 is yet ploughed2 and some after-comer may sow it with seed1 and reap therefrom a plentiful harvest4 ,sophon4 ,kalon1 you speak wisely4 ,truth hath many sides like a diamond with innumerable facets1 each one alike brilliant and piercing4 ,your information respecting your friend ,christian has not a little interested me1 and made me desirous of knowing him4 ,kosmon4 ,and ,i1 no less than ,sophon1 am delighted to hear that we shall both see and taste your friend4 ,sophon4 ,kalon1 by what you just now said1 you would seem to think a dearth of original thought in the world1 at any time1 was an evil3 perhaps it is not so2 nay1 perhaps1 it is a good6 ,is not an interregnum of genius necessary somewhere8 ,a great genius1 sun-like1 compels lesser suns to gravitate with and to him2 and this is subversive of originality4 ,age is as visible in thought as it is in man4 ,death is indispensably requisite for a new life4 ,genius is like a tree1 sheltering and affording support to numberless creepers and climbers1 which latter die and live many times before their protecting tree does2 flourishing even whilst that decays1 and thus1 lending to it a greenness not its own2 but no new life can come out of that expiring tree2 it must die3 and it is not until it is dead1 and fallen1 and rotted into compost1 that another tree can grow there2 and many years will elapse before the new birth can increase and occupy the room the previous one occupied1 and flourish anew with a greenness all its own4 ,this on one side4 ,on another2 genius is essentially imitative1 or rather1 as ,i just now said1 gravitative2 it gravitates towards that point peculiarly important at the moment of its existence2 as air1 more rarified in some places than in others1 causes the winds to rush towards them as toward a centre3 so that if poetry1 painting1 or music slumbers1 oratory may ravish the world1 or chemistry1 or steam-power may seduce and rule1 or the sciences sit enthroned4 ,thus1 nature ever compensates one art with another2 her balance alone is the always just one2 for1 like her course of the seasons1 she grows1 ripens1 and lies fallow1 only that stronger1 larger and better food may be reared4 ,kalon4 ,by your speaking of chemistry1 and the mechanical arts and sciences1 as periodically ruling the world along with poetry1 painting1 and music1--am ,i to understand that you deem them powers intellectually equal1 and to require of their respective professors as mighty1 original1 and human a genius for their successful practice8 ,kosmon4 ,human genius6 why not8 ,are they not equally human8--nay1 are they not--especially steam-power1 chemistry and the electric telegraph--more--eminently more--useful to man1 more radically civilizers1 than music1 poetry1 painting1 sculpture1 or architecture8 ,kalon4 ,stay1 ,kosmon6 whither do you hurry8 ,between chemistry and the mechanical arts and sciences1 and between poetry1 painting1 and music1 there exists the whole totality of genius--of genius as distinguished from talent and industry4 ,to be useful alone is not to be great3 plus only is plus1 and the sum is minus something and plus in nothing if the most unimaginable particle only be absent4 ,the fine arts1 poetry1 painting1 sculpture1 music1 and architecture1 as thought1 or idea1 ,athene-like1 are complete1 finished1 revelations of wisdom at once4 ,not so the mechanical arts and sciences3 they are arts of growth2 they are shaped and formed gradually1 7and that1 more by a blind sort of guessing than by intuition17 and take many men's lives to win even to one true principle4 ,on all sides they are the exact opposites of each other2 for1 in the former1 the principles from the first are mature1 and only the manipulation immature2 in the latter1 it is the principles that are almost always immature1 and the manipulation as constantly mature4 ,the fine arts are always grounded upon truth2 the mechanical arts and sciences almost always upon hypothesis2 the first are unconfined1 infinite1 immaterial1 impossible of reduction into formulas1 or of conversion into machines2 the last are limited1 finite1 material1 can be uttered through formulas1 worked by arithmetic1 tabulated and seen in machines4 ,sophon4 ,kosmon1 you see that ,kalon1 true to his nature1 prefers the beautiful and good1 to the good without the beautiful2 and you1 who love nature1 and regard all that she1 and what man from her1 can produce1 with equal delight1--true to your's1--cannot perceive wherefore he limits genius to the fine arts4 ,let me show you why ,kalon's ideas are truer than yours4 ,you say that chemistry1 steam-power1 and the electric telegraph1 are more radically civilizers than poetry1 painting1 or music3 but bethink you3 what emotions beyond the common and selfish ones of wonder and fear do the mechanical arts or sciences excite1 or communicate8 what pity1 or love1 or other holy and unselfish desires and aspirations1 do they elicit8 ,inert of themselves in all teachable things1 they are the agents only whereby teachable things1--the charities1 sympathies and love1--may be more swiftly and more certainly conveyed and diffused3 and beyond diffusing media the mechanical arts or sciences cannot get2 for they are merely simple facts2 nothing more3 they cannot induct2 for they1 in or of themselves1 have no inductive powers1 and their office is confined to that of carrying and spreading abroad the powers which do induct2 which powers make a full1 complete1 and visible existence only in the fine arts4 ,in ,,fact and ,,thought we have the whole question of superiority decided4 ,fact is merely physical record3 ,thought is the application of that record to something human4 ,without application1 the fact is only fact1 and nothing more2 the application1 thought1 then1 certainly must be superior to the record1 fact4 ,also in thought man gets the clearest glimpse he will ever have of soul1 and sees the incorporeal make the nearest approach to the corporeal that it is possible for it to do here upon earth4 ,and hence1 these noble acts of wisdom are--far--far above the mechanical arts and sciences1 and are properly called fine arts1 because their high and peculiar office is to refine4 ,kosmon4 ,but1 certainly thought is as much exercised in deducting from physical facts the sciences and mechanical arts as ever it is in poetry1 painting1 or music4 ,the act of inventing print1 or of applying steam1 is quite as soul-like as the inventing of a picture1 poem1 or statue4 ,kalon4 ,quite4 ,the chemist1 poet1 engineer1 or painter1 alike1 think4 ,but the things upon which they exercise their several faculties are very widely unlike each other2 the chemist or engineer cogitates only the physical2 the poet or painter joins to the physical the human1 and investigates soul--scans the world in man added to the world without him--takes in universal creation1 its sights1 sounds1 aspects1 and ideas4 ,sophon says that the fine arts are thoughts2 but ,i think ,i know a more comprehensive word2 for they are something more than thoughts2 they are things also2 that word is ,,nature--,nature fully--thorough nature--the world of creation4 ,all that is in man1 his mysteries of soul1 his thoughts and emotions--deep1 wise1 holy1 loving1 touching1 and fearful1--or in the world1 beautiful1 vast1 ponderous1 gloomy1 and awful1 moved with rhythmic harmonious utterance--that is ,poetry4 ,all that is of man--his triumphs1 glory1 power1 and passions2 or of the world--its sunshine and clouds1 its plains1 hills or valleys1 its wind-swept mountains and snowy ,alps1 river and ocean--silent1 lonely1 severe1 and sublime--mocked with living colours1 hue and tone1--that is ,painting4 ,man--heroic man1 his acts1 emotions1 loves1--aspirative1 tender1 deep1 and calm1--intensified1 purified1 colourless1--exhibited peculiarly and directly through his own form2that is sculpture4 ,all the voices of nature--of man--his bursts of rage1 pity1 and fear--his cries of joy--his sighs of love2 of the winds and the waters--tumultuous1 hurrying1 surging1 tremulous1 or gently falling--married to melodious numbers2that is music4 ,and1 the music of proportions--of nature and man1 and the harmony and opposition of light and shadow1 set forth in the ponderous2 that is ,architecture4 ,christian4 as he enters ,forbear1 ,kalon6 ,these ,i know for your dear fiends1 ,kosmon and ,sophon4 ,the moment of discoursing with them has at last arrived3 ,may ,i profit by it6 ,kalon1 fearful of checking your current of thought1 ,i stood without1 and heard that which you said3 and1 though ,i agree with you in all your definitions of poetry1 painting1 sculpture1 music1 and architecture2 yet certainly all things in or of man1 or the world1 are not1 however equally beautiful1 equally worthy of being used by the artist4 ,fine art absolutely rejects all impurities of form2 not less absolutely does it reject all impurities of passion and expression4 ,everything throughout a poem1 picture1 or statue1 or in music1 may be sensuously beautiful2 but nothing must be sensually so4 ,sins are only paid for in virtues2 thus1 every sin found is a virtue lost--lost--not only to the artist1 but a cause of loss to others--to all who look upon what he does4 ,he should deem his art a sacred treasure1 intrusted to him for the common good2 and over it he should build1 of the most precious materials1 in the simplest1 chastest1 and truest proportions1 a temple fit for universal worship3 instead of which1 it is too often the case that he raises above it an edifice of clay2 which1 as mortal as his life1 falls1 burying both it and himself under a heap of dirt4 ,to preserve him from this corruption of his art1 let him erect for his guidance a standard awfully high above himself4 ,let him think of ,christ2 and what he would not show to as pure a nature as ,his1 let him never be seduced to work on1 or expose to the world4 ,kosmon4 ,oh1 ,kalon1 whither do we go6 ,greek art is condemned1 and ,satire hath got its death-stroke4 ,the beautiful is not the beautiful unless it is fettered to the moral2 and ,virtue rejects the physical perfections1 lest she should fall in love with herself1 and sin and cause sin4 ,christian4 ,nay1 ,kosmon4 ,nothing pure1--nothing that is innocent1 chaste1 unsensual1--whether ,greek or satirical1 is condemned3 but everything--every picture1 poem1 statue1 or piece of music--which elicits the sensual1 viceful1 and unholy desires of our nature--is1 and that utterly4 ,the beautiful was created the true1 morally as well as physically2 vice is a deformment of virtue1--not of form1 to which it is a parasitical addition--an accretion which can and must be excised before the beautiful can show itself as it was originally made1 morally as well as formally perfect4 ,how we all wish the sensual1 indecent1 and brutal1 away from ,hogarth1 so that we might show him to the purest virgin without fear or blushing4 ,sophon4 ,and as well from ,shakspere4 ,rotten members1 though small in themselves1 are yet large enough to taint the whole body4 ,and those impurities1 like rank growths of vine1 may be lopped away without injuring any vital principle4 ,in perfect art the utmost purity of intention1 design1 and execution1 alone is wisdom4 ,every tree--every flower1 in defiance of adverse contingencies1 grows with perfect will to be perfect3 and1 shall man1 who hath what they have not1 a soul wherewith he may defy all ill1 do less8 ,kosmon4 ,but how may this purity be attained8 ,i see every where close round the pricks2 not a single step may be taken in advance without wounding something vital4 ,corruption strews thick both earth and ocean2 it is only the heavens that are pure1 and man cannot live upon manna alone4 ,christian4 ,kosmon1 you would seem to mistake what ,sophon and ,i mean4 ,neither he nor ,i wish nature to be used less1 or otherwise than as it appears2 on the contrary1 we wish it used more--more directly4 ,nature itself is comparatively pure2 all that we desire is the removal of the factitious matter that the vice of fashion1 evil hearts1 and infamous desires1 graft upon it4 ,it is not simple innocent nature that we would exile1 but the devilish and libidinous corruptions that sully nature4 ,kalon4 ,but1 if your ideas were strictly carried out1 there would be but little of worth left in the world for the artist to use2 for1 if ,i understand you rightly1 you object to his making use of any passion1 whether heroic1 patriotic1 or loving1 that is not rigidly virtuous4 ,christian4 ,i do4 ,without he has a didactic aim2 like as ,hogarth had4 ,a picture1 poem1 or statue1 unless it speaks some purpose1 is mere paint1 paper1 or stone4 ,a work of art must have a purpose1 or it is not a work of fine art3 thus1 then1 if it be a work of fine art1 it has a purpose2 and1 having purpose1 it has either a good or an evil one3 there is no alternative4 ,an artist's works are his children1 his immortal heirs1 to his evil as well as to his good2 as he hath trained them1 so will they teach4 ,let him ask himself why does a parent so tenderly rear his children4 ,is it not because he knows that evil is evil1 whether it take the shape of angels or devils8 ,and is not the parent's example worthy of the artist's imitation8 ,what advantage has a man over a child8 ,is there any preservative peculiar to manhood that it alone may see and touch sin1 and yet be not defiled8 ,verily1 there is none6 ,all mere battles1 assassinations1 immolations1 horrible deaths1 and terrible situations used by the artist solely to excite1--every passion degrading to man's perfect nature1--should certainly be rejected1 and that unhesitatingly4 ,sophon4--,suffer me to extend the just conclusions of ,christian4 ,art--true art--fine art--cannot be either coarse or low4 ,innocent-like1 no taint will cling to it1 and a smock frock is as pure as virginal-chaste robes4 ,and1--sensualism1 indecency1 and brutality1 excepted--sin is not sin1 if not in the act2 and1 in satire1 with the same exceptions1 even sin in the act is tolerated when used to point forcibly a moral crime1 or to warn society of a crying shame which it can remedy4 ,kalon4 ,but1 my dear ,sophon1--and you1 ,christian1--you do not condemn the oak because of its apples2 and1 like them1 the sin in the poem1 picture1 or statue1 may be a wormy accretion grafted from without4 ,the spectator often makes sin where the artist intended none4 ,for instance1 in the nude1--where perhaps1 the poet1 painter1 or sculptor1 imagines he has embodied only the purest and chastest ideas and forms1 the sensualist sees--what he wills to see2 and1 serpent-like1 previous to devouring his prey1 he covers it with his saliva4 ,christian4 ,the ,circean poison1 whether drunk from the clearest crystal or the coarsest clay1 alike intoxicates and makes beasts of men4 ,be assured that every nude figure or nudity introduced in a poem1 picture1 or piece of sculpture1 merely on physical grounds1 and only for effect1 is vicious4 ,and1 where it is boldly introduced and forms the central idea1 it ought never to have a sense of its condition3 it is not nudity that is sinful1 but the figure's knowledge of its nudity17too surely communicated by it to the spectator17 that makes it so4 ,eve and ,adam before their fall were not more utterly shameless than the artist ought to make his inventions4 ,the ,turk believes that1 at the judgment-day1 every artist will be compelled to furnish1 from his own soul1 soul for every one of his creations4 ,this thought is a noble one1 and should thoroughly awake poet1 painter1 and sculptor1 to the awful responsibilities they labour under4 ,with regard to the sensualist1--who is omnivorous1 and swine-like1 assimilates indifferently pure and impure1 degrading everything he hears or sees1--little can be said beyond this2 that for him1 if the artist be without sin1 he is not answerable4 ,but in this responsibility he has two rigid yet just judges1 ,god and himself2--let him answer there before that tribunal4 ,god will acquit or condemn him only as he can acquit or condemn himself4 ,kalon4 ,but1 under any circumstance1 beautiful nude flesh beautifully painted must kindle sensuality2 and1 described as beautifully in poetry1 it will do the like1 almost1 if not quite1 as readily4 ,sculpture is the only form of art in which it can be used thoroughly pure1 chaste1 unsullied1 and unsullying4 ,i feel1 ,christian1 that you mean this4 ,and see what you do6--,what a vast domain of art you set a ,solomon's seal upon6 how numberless are the poems1 pictures1 and statues--the most beautiful productions of their authors--you put in limbo6 ,to me1 ,i confess1 it appears the very top of prudery to condemn these lovely creations1 merely because they quicken some men's pulses4 ,kosmon4 ,and1 to me1 it appears hypercriticism to object to pictures1 poems1 and statues1 calling them not works of art--or fine art--because they have no higher purpose than eye or ear-delight4 ,if this law be held to be good1 very few pictures called of the ,english school--of the ,english school1 did ,i say8--very few pictures at all1 of any school1 are safe from condemnation3 almost all the ,dutch must suffer judgment1 and a very large proportion of modern sculpture1 poetry1 and music1 will not pass4 ,even ,christabel and the ,eve of ,st4 ,agnes could not stand the ordeal4 ,christian4 ,oh1 ,kalon1 you hardly need an answer6 ,what6 shall the artist spend weeks and months1 nay1 sometimes years1 in thought and study1 contriving and perfecting some beautiful invention1--in order only that men's pulses may be quickened8 ,what6--can he1 jesuit-like1 dwell in the house of soul1 only to discover where to sap her foundations8--,satan-like1 does he turn his angel of light into a fiend of darkness1 and use his ,god-delegated might against its giver1 making ,astartes and ,molochs to draw other thousands of innocent lives into the embrace of sin8 ,and as for you1 ,kosmon1 ,i regard purpose as ,i regard soul2 one is not more the light of the thought than the other is the light of the body2 and both1 soul and purpose1 are necessary for a complete intellect2 and intellect1 of the intellectual--of which the fine arts are the capital members--is not more to be expected than demanded4 ,i believe that most of the pictures you mean are mere natural history paintings from the animal side of man4 ,the ,dutchmen may1 certainly1 go ,letheward2 but for their colour1 and subtleties of execution1 they would not be tolerated by any man of taste4 ,sophon4 ,christian here1 ,i think1 is too stringent4 ,though walls be necessary round our flower gardens to keep out swine and other vile cattle--yet ,i can see no reason why1 with excluding beasts1 we should also exclude light and air4 ,purpose is purpose or not1 according to the individual capacity to assimilate it4 ,different plants require different soils1 and they will rather die than grow on unfriendly ones2 it is the same with animals2 they endure existence only through their natural food2 and this variety of soils1 plants1 and vegetables1 is the world less man4 ,but man1 as well as the other created forms1 is subject to the same law3 he takes only that aliment he can digest4 ,it is sufficient with some men that their sensoria be delighted with pleasurable and animated grouping1 colour1 light1 and shade3 this feeling or desire of their's is1 in itself1 thoroughly innocent3 it is true1 it is not a great burden for them to carry2 no1 but it is the lightness of the burden that is the merit2 for thereby1 their step is quickened and not clogged1 their intellect is exhilarated and not oppressed4 ,thus1 then1 a purpose is secured1 from a picture or poem or statue1 which may not have in it the smallest particle of what ,christian and ,i think necessary for it to possess2 he reckons a poem1 picture1 or statue1 to be a work of fine art by the quality and quantity of thought it contains1 by the mental leverage it possesses wherewith to move his mind1 by the honey which he may hive1 and by the heavenly manna he may gather therefrom4 ,kosmon4 ,christian wants art like ,magdalen ,hospitals1 where the windows are so contrived that all of earth is excluded1 and only heaven is seen4 ,wisdom is not only shown in the soul1 but also in the body3 the bones1 nerves1 and muscles1 are quite as wonderful in idea as is the incorporeal essence which rules them4 ,and the animal part of man wants as much caring for as the spiritual3 ,god made both1 and is equally praised through each4 ,and men's souls are as much touchable and teachable through their animal feelings as ever they are through their mental aspirations2 this both ,orpheus and ,amphion knew when they1 with their music1 made towns to rise in savage woods by savage hands4 ,and hence1 in that light1 nothing is without a purpose2 and ,i maintain1--if they give but the least glimpse of happiness to a single human being1--that even the ,dutch masters are useful1 ,i believe that the thought-wrapped philosopher1 who1 in his close-pent study1 designs some valuable blessing for his lower and more animal brethren1 only pursues the craving of his nature2 and that his happiness is no higher than their's in their several occupations and delights4 ,sight and sense are fully as powerful for happiness as thought and ratiocination4 ,nature grows flowers wherever she can2 she causes sweet waters to ripple over stony beds1 and living wells to spring up in deserts1 so that grass and herbs may grow and afford nourishment to some of ,god's creatures4 ,even the granite and the lava must put forth blossoms4 ,kalon4 ,oh ,christian1 children cannot digest strong meats6 ,neither can a blind man be made to see by placing him opposite the sun4 ,the sound of the violin is as innocent as that of the organ4 ,and1 though there be a wide difference in the sacredness of the occupations1 yet dance1 song1 and the other amusements common to society1 are quite as necessary to a healthy condition of the mind and body1 as is to the soul the pursuit and daily practice of religion4 ,the healthy condition of the mind and body is1 after all1 the happy life2 and whether that life be most mental or most animal it matters little1 even before ,god1 so long as its delights1 amusements1 and occupations1 be thoroughly innocent and chaste4 ,christian4 ,so long as the pursuits1 pastimes1 and pleasures of mankind be innocent and chaste1--with you all1 heartily1 ,i believe it matters little how or in what form they be enjoyed4 ,pure water is certainly equally pure1 whether it trickle from the hill-side or flow through crystal conduits2 and equally refreshing whether drunk from the iron bowl or the golden goblet2--only the crystal and gold will better please some natures than the hill-side and the iron4 ,i know also that a star may give more light than the moon1--but that is up in its own heavens and not here on earth4 ,i know that it is not light and shade which make a complete globe1 but1 as well1 the local and neutral tints4 ,thus1 my friends1 you perceive that ,i am neither for building a wall1 nor for contriving windows so as to exclude light1 air1 and earth4 ,as much as any of you1 ,i am for every man's sitting under his own vine1 and for his training1 pruning1 and eating its fruit how he pleases4 ,let the artist paint1 write1 or carve1 what and how he wills1 teach the world through sense or through thought1--,i will not dissent2 ,i have no patent to entitle me to do so2 nay1 ,i will be thoroughly satisfied with whatsoever he does1 so long as it is pure1 unsensual1 and earnestly true4 ,but1 as the mental is the peculiar feature that places man apart from and above animals1--so ought all that he does to be apart from and above their nature2 especially in the fine arts1 which are the intellectual perfection of the intellectual4 ,and nothing short of this intellectual perfection1--however much they may be pictures1 poems1 statues1 or music1--can rank such works to be works of ,fine ,art4 ,they may have merit1--nay1 be useful1 and hence1 in some sort1 have a purpose3 but they are as much works of ,fine ,art as ,babel was the ,temple of ,solomon4 ,sophon4 ,and man can be made to understand these truths--can be drawn to crave for and love the fine arts3 it is only to take him in hand as we would take some animal--tenderly using it--entreating it1 as it were1 to do its best--to put forth all its powers with all its capable force and beauty4 ,nor is it so very difficult a task to raise1 in the low1 conceptions of things high3 the mass of men have a fine appreciation of ,god and his goodness3 and as active1 charitable1 and sympathetic a nurture in the beautiful and true as they have given to them in religion1 would as surely and swiftly raise in them an equally high appreciation of the fine arts4 ,but1 if the artist would essay such a labour1 he must show them what fine art is3 and1 in order to do this effectually1 as an architect clears away from some sacred edifice which he restores the shambles and shops1 which1 like filthy toads cowering on a precious monument1 have squatted themselves round its noble proportions2 so must he remove from his art-edifice the deformities which hide--the corruptions which shame it4 ,christian4 ,how truly ,sophon speaks a retrospective look will show4 ,the disfigurements which both he and ,i deplore are strictly what he compared them to2 they are shambles and shops grafted on a sacred edifice4 ,still1 indigenous art is sacred and devoted to religious purposes3 this keeps it pure for a time2 but1 like a stream travelling and gathering other streams as it goes through wide stretches of country to the sea1 it receives greater and more numerous impurities the farther it gets from its source1 until1 at last1 what was1 in its rise1 a gentle rilling through snows and over whitest stones1 roars into the ocean a muddy and contentious river4 ,men soon long to touch and taste all that they see2 savage-like1 him whom to-day they deem a god and worship1 they on the morrow get an appetite for and kill1 to eat and barter4 ,and thus art is degraded1 made a thing of carnal desire--a commodity of the exchange4 ,yes1 ,sophon1 to be instructive1 to become a teaching instrument1 the art-edifice must be cleansed from its abominations2 and1 with them1 must the artist sweep out the improvements and ruthless restorations that hang on it like formless botches on peopled tapestry4 ,the multitude must be brought to stand face to face with the pious and earnest builders1 to enjoy the severely simple1 beautiful1 aspiring1 and solemn temple1 in all its first purity1 the same as they bequeathed it to them as their posterity4 ,kalon4 ,the peasant1 upon acquaintance1 quickly prefers wheaten bread to the black and sour mass that formerly served him3 and when true jewels are placed before him1 counterfeit ones in his eyes soon lose their lustre1 and become things which he scorns4 ,the multitude are teachable--teachable as a child2 but1 like a child1 they are self-willed and obstinate1 and will learn in their own way1 or not at all4 ,and1 if the artist wishes to raise them unto a fit audience1 he must consult their very waywardness1 or his work will be a ,penelope's web of done and undone3 he must be to them not only cords of support staying their every weakness against sin and temptation1 but also1 tendrils of delight winding around them4 ,but ,i cannot understand why regeneration can flow to them through sacred art alone4 ,all pure art is sacred art4 ,and the artist having soul as well as nature--the lodestar as well as the lodestone--to steer his path by--and seeing that he must circle earth--it matters little from what quarter he first points his course2 all that is necessary is that he go as direct as possible1 his knowledge keeping him from quicksands and sunken rocks4 ,christian4 ,yes1 ,kalon2--and1 to compare things humble--though conceived in the same spirit of love--with things mighty1 the artist1 if he desires to inform the people thoroughly1 must imitate ,christ1 and1 like him1 stoop down to earth and become flesh of their flesh2 and his work should be wrought out with all his soul and strength in the same world-broad charity1 and truth1 and virtue1 and be1 for himself as well as for them1 a justification for his teaching4 ,but all art1 simply because it is pure and perfect1 cannot1 for those grounds alone1 be called sacred3 ,christian1 it may1 and that justly2 for only since ,christ taught have morals been considered a religion4 ,christian and sacred art bear that relation to each other that the circle bears to its generating point2 the first is only volume1 the last is power3 and though the first--as the world includes ,god--includes with it the last1 still1 the last is the greatest1 for it makes that which includes it3 thus all pure art is ,christian1 but not all is sacred4 ,christian art comprises the earth and its humanities1 and1 by implication1 ,god and ,christ also2 and sacred art is the emanating idea--the central causating power--the jasper throne1 whereon sits ,christ1 surrounded by the prophets1 apostles1 and saints1 administering judgement1 wisdom1 and holiness4 ,in this sense1 then1 the art you would call sacred is not sacred1 but ,christian3 and1 as all perfect art is ,christian1 regeneration necessarily can only flow thence2 and thus it is1 as you say1 that1 from whatever quarter the artist steers his course1 he steers aright4 ,kosmon4 ,and1 ,christian1 is a return to this sacred or ,christian art by you deemed possible8 ,i question it4 ,how can you get the art of one age to reflect that of another1 when the image to be reflected is without the angle of reflection8 ,the sun cannot be seen of us when it is night6 and that class of art has got its golden age too remote--its night too long set--for it to hope ever to grasp rule again1 or again to see its day break upon it4 ,you have likened art to a river rising pure1 and rolling a turbid volume into the ocean4 ,i have a comparison equally just4 ,the career of one artist contains in itself the whole of art-history2 its every phase is presented by him in the course of his life4 ,savage art is beheld in his childish scratchings and barbarous glimmerings2 ,indian1 ,egyptian1 and ,assyrian art in his boyish rigidity and crude fixedness of idea and purpose2 ,mediaeval1 or pre-,raffaelle art is seen in his youthful timid darings1 his unripe fancies oscillating between earth and heaven2 there where we expect truth1 we see conceit2 there where we want little1 much is given--now a blank eyed riddle1--dark with excess of self1--now a giant thought--vast but repulsive1--and now angel visitors startling us with wisdom and touches of heavenly beauty4 ,every where is seen exactness2 but it is the exactness of hesitation1 and not of knowledge--the line of doubt1 and not of power3 all the promises for ripeness are there2 but1 as yet1 all are immature4 ,and mature art is presented when all these rude scaffoldings are thrown down--when the man steps out of the chrysalis a complete idea--both ,psyche and ,eros--free-thoughted1 free-tongued1 and free-handed2--a being whose soul moves through the heavens and the earth--now choiring it with angels--and now enthroning it1 bay-crowned1 among the men-kings2--whose hand passes over all earth1 spreading forth its beauties unerring as the seasons--stretches through cloudland1 revealing its delectable glories1 or1 eagle-like1 soars right up against the sun2--or seaward goes seizing the cresting foam as it leaps--the ships and their crews as they wallow in the watery valleys1 or climb their steeps1 or hang over their flying ridges3--daring and doing all whatsoever it shall dare to do1 with boundless fruitfulness of idea1 and power1 and line2 that is mature art--art of the time of ,phidias1 of ,raffaelle1 and of ,shakspere4 ,and1 ,christian1 in preferring the art of the period previous to ,raffaelle to the art of his time1 you set up the worse for the better1 elevate youth above manhood1 and tell us that the half-formed and unripe berry is wholesomer than the perfect and ripened fruit4 ,christian4 ,kosmon1 your thoughts seduce you2 or rather1 your nature prefers the full and rich to the exact and simple3 you do not go deep enough--do not penetrate beneath the image's gilt overlay1 and see that it covers only worm-devoured wood4 ,your very comparison tells against you4 ,what you call ripeness1 others1 with as much truth1 may call over-ripeness1 nay1 even rottenness2 when all the juices are drunk with their lusciousness1 sick with over-sweetness4 ,and the art which you call youthful and immature--may be1 most likely is1 mature and wholesome in the same degree that it is tasteful1 a perfect round of beautiful1 pure1 and good4 ,you call youth immature2 but in what does it come short of manhood4 ,has it not all that man can have1--free1 happy1 noble1 and spiritual thoughts8 ,and are not those thoughts newer1 purer1 and more unselfish in the youth than in the man8 ,what eye has the man1 that the youth's is not as comprehensive1 keen1 rapid1 and penetrating8 or what hand1 that the youth's is not as swift1 forceful1 cunning1 and true8 ,and what does the youth gain in becoming man8 ,is it freshness1 or deepness1 or power1 or wisdom8 nay rather--is it not languor--the languor of satiety--of indifferentism8 ,and thus soul-rusted and earth-charmed1 what mate is he for his former youth8 ,drunken with the world-lees1 what can he do but pourtray nature drunken as well1 and consumed with the same fever or stupor that consumes himself1 making up with gilding and filigree what he lacks in truth and sincerity8 and what comparison shall exist here and between what his youth might or could have done1 with a soul innocent and untroubled as heaven's deep calm of blue1 gazing on earth with seraph eyes--looking1 but not longing--or1 in the spirit rapt away before the emerald-like rainbow-crowned throne1 witnessing things that shall be hereafter1 and drawing them down almost as stainless as he beheld them8 ,what an array of deep1 earnest1 and noble thinkers1 like angels armed with a brightness that withers1 stand between ,giotto and ,raffaelle2 to mention only ,orcagna1 ,ghiberti1 ,masaccio1 ,lippi1 ,fra ,beato ,angelico1 and ,francia4 ,parallel them with post-,raffaelle artists8 ,if you think you can1 you have dared a labour of which the fruit shall be to you as ,dead ,sea apples1 golden and sweet to the eye1 but1 in the mouth1 ashes and bitterness4 ,and the ,phidian era was a youthful one--the highest and purest period of ,hellenic art3 after that time they added no more gods or heroes1 but took for models instead--the ,alcibiadeses and ,phyrnes1 and made ,bacchuses and ,aphrodites2 not as ,phidias would have--clothed with the greatness of thought1 or girded with valour1 or veiled with modesty2 but dissolved with the voluptuousness of the bath1 naked1 wanton1 and shameless4 ,sophon4 ,you hear1 ,kosmon1 that ,christian prefers ripe youth to ripe manhood3 and he is right4 ,early summer is nobler than early autumn2 the head is wiser than the hand4 ,you take the hand to mean too much3 you should not judge by quantity1 or luxuriance1 or dexterity1 but by quality1 chastity1 and fidelity4 ,and colour and tone are only a fair setting to thought and virtue4 ,perhaps it is the fate1 or rather the duty1 of mortals to make a sacrifice for all things1 withheld as well as given4 ,hand sometimes succumbs to head1 and head in its turn succumbs to hand2 the first is the lot of youth1 the last of manhood4 ,the question is--which of the two we can best afford to do without4 ,narrowed down to this1 ,i think but very few men would be found who would not sacrifice in the loss of hand in preference to its gain at the loss of head4 ,kosmon4 ,but1 ,christian1 in advocating a return to this pre-,raffaelle art1 are you not--you yourself--urging the committal of ruthless restorations and improvements1 new and vile as any that you have denounced8 ,you tell the artist1 that he should restore the sacred edifice to its first purity--the same as it was bequeathed by its pious and earnest builders4 ,but can he do this and be himself original8 ,for myself1 ,i would above all things urge him to study how to reproduce1 and not how to represent--to imitate no past perfection1 but to create for himself another1 as beautiful1 wise1 and true4 ,i would say to him1 build not on old ground1 profaned1 polluted1 trod into slough by filthy animals2 but break new ground--virgin ground--ground that thought has never imagined or eye seen1 and dig into our hearts a foundation1 deep and broad as our humanity4 ,let it not be a temple formed of hands only1 but built up of us--us of the present--body of our body1 soul of our soul4 ,christian4 ,when men wish to raise a piece of stone1 or to move it along1 they seek for a fulcrum to use their lever from2 and1 this obtained1 they can place the stone wheresoever they please4 ,and world-perfections come into existence too slowly for men to reject all the teaching and experience of their predecessors3 the labour of learning is trifling compared to the labour of finding out2 the first implies only days1 the last1 hundreds of years4 ,the discovery of the new world without the compass would have been sheer chance2 but with it1 it became an absolute certainty4 ,so1 and in such manner1 the modern artist seeks to use early mediaeval art1 as a fulcrum to raise through1 but only as a fulcrum2 for he himself holds the lever1 whereby he shall both guide and fix the stones of his art temple2 as experience1 which shall be to him a rudder directing the motion of his ship1 but in subordination to his control2 and as a compass1 which shall regulate his journey1 but which1 so far from taking away his liberty1 shall even add to it1 because through it his course is set so fast in the ways of truth as to allow him1 undividedly1 to give up his whole soul to the purpose of his voyage1 and to steer a wider and freer path over the trackless1 but to him1 with his rudder and compass1 no longer the trackless or waste ocean2 for1 ,god and his endeavours prospering him1 that shall yield up unto his hands discoveries as man-worthy as any hitherto beheld by men1 or conceived by poets4 ,kalon4 ,but1 ,christian1 another artist with equal justness might use ,hellenic art as a means toward making happy discoveries2 formatively1 there is nothing in it that is not both beautiful and perfect2 and beautiful things1 rainbow-like1 are once and for ever beautiful2 and the contemplation and study of its dignified1 graceful1 and truthful embodiments--which1 by common consent1 it only is allowed to possess in an eminent and universal degree--is full as likely to awaken in the mind of its student as high revelations of wisdom1 and cause him to bear to earth as many perfections for man1 as ever the study of pre-,raffaelle art can reveal or give1 through its votary4 ,christian4 ,but beautiful things1 to be beautiful in the highest degree1 like the rainbow1 must have a spiritual as well as a physical voice4 ,lovely as it is1 it is not the arch of colours that glows in the heavens of our hearts2 what does1 is the inner and invisible sense for which it was set up of old by ,god1 and of which its many-hued form is only the outward and visible sign4 ,thus1 beautiful things alone1 of themselves1 are not sufficient for this task2 to be sufficient they must be as vital with soul as they are with shape4 ,to be formatively perfect is not enough2 they must also be spiritually perfect1 and this not locally but universally4 ,the art of the ,greeks was a local art2 and hence1 now1 it has no spiritual4 ,their gods speak to us no longer as gods1 or teach us divinely3 they have become mere images of stone--profane embodiments4 ,false to our spiritual1 ,hellenic art wants every thing that ,christian art is full of4 ,sacred and universal1 this clasps us1 as ,abraham's bosom did ,lazarus1 within its infinite embraces1 causing every fibre of our being to quicken under its heavenly truths4 ,ithuriel's golden spear was not more antagonistic to ,satan's loathly transformation--than is ,christian opposed to pagan art4 ,the wide1 the awful gulf1 separating one from the other1 will be felt instantly in its true force by first thinking ,,zeus1 and then thinking ,,christ4 ,how pale1 shadowy1 and shapeless the vision of lust1 revenge1 and impotence1 that rises at the thought of ,zeus2 but at the thought of ,christ1 how overwhelming the inrush of sublime and touching realities2 what height and depth of love and power2 what humility1 and beauty1 and immaculate purity are made ours at the mention of his name2 the ,saviour1 the ,intercessor1 the ,judge1 the ,resurrection and the ,life4 ,these--these are the divinely awful truths taught by our faith2 and which should also be taught by our art4 ,hellenic art1 like the fig tree that only bore leaves1 withered at ,christ's coming2 and thus no happy discoveries can flow thence1 or revelations of wisdom1 or other perfections be borne to earth for man4 ,sophon4 ,christian thinks and says1 that if the spiritual be not in a thing1 it cannot be put upon it2 and hence1 if a work of art be not a god1 it must be a man1 or a mere image of one2 and that the faith of the ,pagan is the foolishness of the ,christian4 ,nor does he utter unreason2 for1 notwithstanding their perfect forms1 their gods are not gods to us1 but only perfect forms3 ,apollo1 ,theseus1 the ,ilissus1 ,aphrodite1 ,artemis1 ,psyche1 and ,eros1 are only shapeful manhood1 womanhood1 virginhood1 and youth1 and move us only by the exact amount of humanity they possess in common with ourselves4 ,homer and aeschylus1 and ,sophocles1 and ,phidias1 live not by the sacred in them1 but by the human3 and1 but for this common bond1 ,hellenic art would have been submerged in the same ,lethe that has drowned the ,indian1 ,egyptian1 and ,assyrian ,theogonies and arts4 ,and1 if we except form1 what other thing does ,hellenic art offer to the modern artist1 that is not thoroughly opposed to his faith1 wants1 and practice8 ,and thought--thought in accordance with all the lines of his knowledge1 temperament1 and habits--thought through which he makes and shapes for men1 and is understood by them--it is as destitute of1 as inorganic matter of soul and reason4 ,but ,christian art1 because of the faith upon which it is built1 suffers under no such drawbacks1 for that faith is as personal and vigorous now as ever it was at its origin--every motion and principle of our being moves to it like a singing harmony2--it is the breath which brings out of us1 aeolian-harp-like1 our most penetrating and heavenly music--the river of the water of life1 which searches all our dry parts and nourishes them1 causing them to spring up and bear abundantly the happy seed which shall enrich and make fat the earth to the uttermost parts thereof4 ,kalon4 ,with you both ,i believe1 that faith is necessary to a man1 and that without faith sight even is feeble3 but ,i also believe that a man is as much a part of the religious1 moral1 and social system in which he lives1 as is a plant of the soil1 situation1 and climate in which it exists3 and that external applications have just as much power to change the belief of the man1 as they have to alter the structure of the plant4 ,a faith once in a man1 it is there always2 and1 though unfelt even by himself1 works actively3 and ,hellenic art1 so far from being an impediment to the ,christian belief1 is the exact reverse2 for1 it is the privilege of that belief1 through its sublime alchymy1 to be able to transmute all it touches into itself3 and the perfect forms of ,hellenic art1 so touched1 move our souls only the more energetically upwards1 because of their transcendent beauty2 for through them alone can we see how wonderfully and divinely ,god wrought--how majestic1 powerful1 and vigorous he made man--how lovely1 soft1 and winning1 he made woman3 and in beholding these things1 we are thankful to him that we are permitted to see them--not as ,pagans1 but altogether as ,christians4 ,whether ,christian or ,pagan1 the highest beauty is still the highest beauty2 and the highest beauty alone1 to the total exclusion of gods and their myths1 compels our admiration4 ,kosmon4 ,another thing we ought to remember1 when judging ,hellenic ,art1 is1 but for its existence1 all other kinds--pre-,raffaelle as well--could not have had being4 ,the ,greeks were1 by far1 more inclined to worship nature as contained in themselves1 than the gods1--if the gods are not reflexes of themselves1 which is most likely4 ,and1 thus impelled1 they broke through the monstrous symbolism of ,egypt1 and made them gods after their own hearts2 that is1 fashioned them out of themselves4 ,and herein1 ,i think we may discern something of providence2 for1 suppose their natures had not been so powerfully antagonistic to the traditions and conventions of their religion1 what other people in the world could or would have done their work8 ,cast about a brief while in your memories1 and endeavor to find whether there has ever existed a people who in their nature1 nationality1 and religion1 have been so eminently fitted to perform such a task as the ,hellenic8 ,you will then feel that we have reason to be thankful that they were allowed to do what else had never been done2 and1 which not done1 all posterity would have suffered to the last throe of time4 ,and1 if they have not made a thorough perfection--a spiritual as well as a physical one--forget not that1 at least1 they have made this physical representation a finished one4 ,they took it from the ,egyptians1 rude1 clumsy1 and seated2 its head stony--pinned to its chest2 its hands tied to its side1 and its legs joined2 they shaped it1 beautiful1 majestic1 and erect2 elevated its head2 breathed into it animal fire2 gave movement and action to its arms and hands2 opened its legs and made it walk--made it human at all points--the radical impersonation of physical and sensuous beauty4 ,and1 if the god has receded into the past and become a pale1 shadowy1 and shapeless vision of lust1 revenge1 and impotence1 the human lives on graceful1 vigorous1 and deathless1 as at first1 and excites in us admiration as unbounded as ever followed it of old in ,greece or ,italy4 ,christian4 ,yes1 ,kosmon1 yes6 they are flourished all over with the rhetoric of the body2 but nowhere is to be seen in them that diviner poetry1 the oratory of the soul6 ,truly they are a splendid casket enclosing nothing--at least nothing now of importance to us2 for what they once contained1 the world1 when stirred with nobler matter1 disregarded1 and left to perish4 ,but1 ,kosmon1 we cannot discuss probabilities4 ,our question is--not whether the ,greeks only could have made such masterpieces of nature and art2 but whether their works are of that kind the most fitted to carry forward to a more ultimate perfection that idea which is peculiarly our's4 ,all art1 more or less1 is a species of symbolism2 and the ,hellenic1 notwithstanding its more universal method of typification1 was fully as symbolic as the ,egyptian2 and hence its language is not only dead1 but forgotten1 and is now past recovery3 and1 if it were not1 what purpose would be served by its republication8 ,for1 for whom does the artist work8 ,the inevitable answer is1 ,for his nation6 ,his statue1 or picture1 poem1 or music1 must be made up and out of them2 they are at once his exemplars1 his audience1 and his worshippers2 and he is their mirror in which they behold themselves as they are3 he breathes them vitally as an atmosphere1 and they breathe him4 ,zeus1 ,athene1 ,heracles1 ,prometheus1 ,agamemnon1 ,orestes1 the ,house of ,oedipus1 ,clytemnestra1 ,iphigenia1 and ,antigone1 spoke something to the ,hellenic nations2 woke their piety1 pity1 or horror1--thrilled1 soothed1 or delighted them2 but they have no charm for our ears2 for us1 they are literally disembodied ghosts1 and voiceless as shapeless4 ,but not so are ,christ1 and the holy ,apostles and saints1 and the ,blessed ,virgin2 and not so is ,hamlet1 or ,richard the ,third1 or ,macbeth1 or ,shylock1 or the ,house of ,lear1 ,ophelia1 ,desdemona1 ,grisildis1 or ,una1 or ,genevieve4 ,no3 they all speak and move real and palpable before our eyes1 and are felt deep down in the heart's core of every thinking soul among us3--they all grapple to us with holds that only life will loose4 ,of all this ,i feel assured1 because1 a brief while since1 we agreed together that man could only be raised through an incarnation of himself4 ,tacitly1 we would also seem to have limited the uses of ,hellenic art to the serving as models of proportion1 or as a gradus for form3 and1 though ,i cannot deny them any merit they may have in this respect1 still1 ,i would wish to deal cautiously with them3 the artist1--most especially the young one1 and who is and would be most subject to them and open to their influence1--should never have his soul asleep when his hand is awake2 but1 like voice and instrument1 one should always accompany the other harmoniously4 ,kosmon4 ,but surely you will deal no less cautiously with early mediaeval art4 ,archaisms are not more tolerable in pictures than they are in statues1 poems1 or music2 and the archaisms of this kind of art are so numerous as to be at first sight the most striking feature belonging to it4 ,most remarkable among these unnatural peculiarities are gilded backgrounds1 gilded hair1 gilded ornaments and borders to draperies and dresses1 the latter's excessive verticalism of lines and tedious involution of folds1 and the childlike passivity of countenance and expression3 all of which are very prominent1 and operate as serious drawbacks to their merits2 which--as ,i have freely admitted--are in truth not a few1 nor mean4 ,christian4 ,the artist is only a man1 and living with other men in a state of being called society2 and1--though perhaps in a lesser degree--he is as subject to its influences--its fashions and customs--as they are4 ,but in this respect his failings may be likened to the dross which the purest metal in its molten state continually throws up to its surface1 but which is mere excrement1 and so little essential that it can be skimmed away3 and1 as the dross to the metal1 just so little essential are the archaisms you speak of to the early art1 and just so easily can they be cast aside4 ,but bethink you1 ,kosmon4 ,is ,hellenic art without archaisms8 ,and that feature of it held to be its crowning perfection--its head--is not that a very marked one8 ,and1 is it not so completely opposed to the artist's experience in the forms of nature that--except in subjects from ,greek history and mythology--he dares not use it--at least without modifying it so as to destroy its ,hellenism8 ,sophon4 ,then ,hellenic ,art is like a musical bell with a flaw in it2 before it can be serviceable it must be broken up and recast4 ,if its sum of beauty--its line of lines1 the facial angle1 must be destroyed--as it undoubtedly must1--before it can be used for the general purposes of art1 then its claims over early mediaeval art1 in respect of form1 are small indeed4 ,but is it not altogether a great archaism8 ,kalon4 ,oh1 ,sophon6 weighty as are the reasons urged against ,hellenic art by ,christian and yourself1 they are not weighty enough to outbalance its beauty1 at least to me3 at present they may have set its sun in gloom2 yet ,i know that that obscuration1 like a dark foreground to a bright distance1 will make its rising again only the more surpassingly glorious4 ,i admire its exquisite creations1 because they are beautiful1 and noble1 and perfect1 and they elevate me because ,i think them so2 and their silent capabilities1 like the stardust of heaven before the intellectual insight1 resolve themselves into new worlds of thoughts and things so ever as ,i contemplate their perfections3 like a prolonged music1 full of sweet yet melancholy cadences1 they have sunk into my heart--my brain--my soul--never1 never to cease while life shall hold with me4 ,but1 for all that1 my hands are not full2 and1 whithersoever the happy seed shall require me1 ,i am not for withholding plough or spade1 planting or watering2 and that which ,i am called in the spirit to do--will ,i do manfully and with my whole strength4 ,sophon4 ,kalon1 the conclusion of your speech is better than the commencement4 ,it is better to sacrifice myrrh and frankincense than virtue and wisdom1 thoughts than deeds4 ,would that all men were as ready as yourself to dispark their little selfish enclosures1 and burn out all their hedges of prickly briers and brambles--turning the evil into the good--the seed-catching into the seed-nourishing4 ,of the too consumptions let us prefer the active1 benevolent1 and purifying one of fire1 to the passive1 self-eating1 and corrupting one of rust3 one half minute's clear shining may touch some watching and waiting soul1 and through him kindle whole ages of light4 ,christian4 ,men do not stumble over what they know2 and the day fades so imperceptibly into night that were it not for experience1 darkness would surprise us long before we believed the day done3 and1 in relation to art1 its revolutions are still more imperceptible in their gradations2 and1 in fulfilling themselves1 they spread over such an extent of time1 that in their knowledge the experience of one artist is next to nothing2 and its twilight is so lengthy1 that those who never saw other1 believe its gloom to be day2 nor are their successors more aware that the deepening darkness is the contrary1 until night drops big like a great clap of thunder1 and awakes them staringly to a pitiable sense of their condition4 ,but1 if we cannot have this experience through ourselves1 we can through others2 and that will show us that ,pagan art has once--nay twice--already brought over ,christian art a darkness which might be felt2 from a little handful cloud out of the studio of ,squarcione1 it gathered density and volume through his scholar ,mantegna--made itself a nucleus in the ,academy of the ,medici1 and thence it issued in such a flood of heathenesse that ,italy finally became covered with one vast deep and thick night of ,pagandom4 ,but in every deep there is a lower deep2 and1 through the same gods-worship1 a night intenser still fell upon art when the pantomime of ,david made its appearance4 ,with these two fearful lessons before his eyes1 the modern artist can have no other than a settled conviction that ,pagan art1 ,devil-like1 glozes but to seduce--tempts but to betray2 and hence1 he chooses to avoid that which he believes to be bad1 and to follow that which he holds to be good1 and blots out from his eye and memory all art between the present and its first taint of heathenism1 and ascends to the art previous to ,raffaelle2 and he ascends thither1 not so much for its forms as he does for its ,,thought and ,,nature--the root and trunk of the art-tree1 of whose numerous branches form is only one--though the most important one3 and he goes to pre-,raffaelle art for those two things1 because the stream at that point is clearer and deeper1 and less polluted with animal impurities1 than at any other in its course4 ,and1 ,kalon and ,kosmon1 had you remembered this1 and at the same time recollected that the words1 ,nature and ,thought express very peculiar ideas to modern eyes and ears--ideas which are totally unknown to ,hellenic ,art--you would have instantly felt1 that the artist cannot study from it things chiefest in importance to him--of which it is destitute1 even as is a shore-driven boulder of life and verdure4 ,on a ,whit-sunday morn in the month of ,may ,the sun looked over the highest hills1 ,and down in the vales looked he2 ,and sprang up blithe all things of life1 ,and put forth their energy2 ,the flowers creeped out their tender cups1 ,and offered their dewy fee2 ,and rivers and rills they shimmered along ,their winding ways to the sea2 ,and the little birds their morning song ,trilled forth from every tree1 ,on a ,whit-sunday morn in the month of ,may4 ,lord ,thomas he rose and donned his clothes2 ,for he was a sleepless man3 ,and ever he tried to change his thoughts1 ,yet ever they one way ran4 ,he to catch the breeze through the apple trees1 ,by the orchard path did stray1 ,till he was aware of a lady there ,came walking adown that way3 ,out gushed the song the trees among ,then soared and sank away1 ,on a ,whit-sunday morn in the month of ,may4 ,with eyes down-cast care-slow she came1 ,heedless of shine or shade1 ,or the dewy grass that wetted her feet1 ,and heavy her dress all made3 ,oh trembled the song the trees among1 ,and all at once was stayed1 ,on a ,whit-sunday morn in the month of ,may4 ,lord ,thomas he was a truth-fast knight1 ,and a calm-eyed man was he4 ,he pledged his troth to his mother's maid ,a damsel of low degree3 ,he spoke her fair1 he spoke her true ,and well to him listened she4 ,he gave her a kiss1 she gave him twain ,all beneath an apple tree3 ,the little birds trilled1 the little birds filled ,the air with their melody1 ,on a ,whit-sunday morn in the month of ,may4 ,a goodly sight it was1 ,i ween1 ,this loving couple to see1 ,for he was a tall and a stately man1 ,and a queenly shape had she4 ,with arms each laced round other's waist1 ,through the orchard paths they tread ,with gliding pace1 face mixed with face1 ,yet never a word they said3 ,oh6 soared the song the birds among1 ,and seemed with a rapture sped1 ,on a ,whit-sunday morn in the month of ,may4 ,the dew-wet grass all through they pass1 ,the orchard they compass round2 ,save words like sighs and swimming eyes ,no utterance they found4 ,upon his chest she leaned her breast1 ,and nestled her small1 small head1 ,and cast a look so sad1 that shook ,him all with the meaning said3 ,oh hushed was the song the trees among1 ,as over there sailed a gled1 ,on a ,whit-sunday morn in the month of ,may4 ,then forth with a faltering voice there came1 ,ah would ,lord ,thomas for thee ,that ,i were come of a lineage high1 ,and not of a low degree4 ,lord ,thomas her lips with his fingers touched1 ,and stilled her all with his ee'3 ,dear ,ella6 ,dear ,ella6 he said1 ,beyond all my ancestry ,is this dower of thine--that precious thing1 ,dear ,ella1 thy purity4 ,thee will ,i wed--lift up thy head-- ,all ,i have ,i give to thee-- ,yes--all that is mine is also thine-- ,my lands and my ancestry4 ,the little birds sang and the orchard rang ,with a heavenly melody1 ,on a ,whit-sunday morn in the month of ,may4 ,modern ,giants ,yes6 there are ,giants on the earth in these days2 but it is their great bulk1 and the nearness of our view1 which prevents us from perceiving their grandeur4 ,this is how it is that the glory of the present is lost upon the contemporaries of the greatest men2 and1 perhaps this was ,swift's meaning1 when he said that ,gulliver could not discover exactly what it was that strode among the corn-ridges in the ,brobdignagian field3 thus1 we lose the brightness of things of our own time in consequence of their proximity4 ,it is of the development of our individual perceptions1 and the application thereof to a good use1 that the writer humbly endeavours to treat4 ,we will for this purpose take as an example1 that which may be held to indicate the civilization of a period more than any thing else2 namely1 the popular perception of the essentials of ,poetry2 and endeavour to show that while the beauties of old writers are acknowledged1 7tho' not in proportion to the attention of each individual in his works to nature alone7 the modern school is contemned and unconsidered2 and also that much of the active poetry of modern life is neglected by the majority of the writers themselves4 ,there seems to be an opinion gaining ground fast1 in spite of all the shaking of conventional heads1 that the ,poets of the present day are equal to all others1 excepting one3 however this may be1 it is certain we are not fair judges1 because of the natural reason stated before2 and there is decidedly one great fault in the moderns1 that not only do they study models with which they can never become intimately acquainted1 but that they neglect1 or rather reject as worthless1 that which they alone can carry on with perfect success3 ,i mean the knowledge of themselves1 and the characteristics of their own actual living4 ,thus1 if a modern ,poet or ,artist 7the latter much more culpably errs7 seeks a subject exemplifying charity1 he rambles into ancient ,greece or ,rome1 awakening not one half the sympathy in the spectator1 as do such incidents as may be seen in the streets every day4 ,for instance2 walking with a friend the other day1 we met an old woman1 exceedingly dirty1 restlessly pattering along the kerb of a crowded thoroughfare1 trying to cross3 her eyes were always wandering here and there1 and her mouth was never still2 her object was evident1 but for my own part1 ,i must needs be fastidious and prefer to allow her to take the risk of being run over1 to overcoming my own disgust4 ,not so my friend2 he marched up manfully1 and putting his arm over the old woman's shoulder1 led her across as carefully as though she were a princess4 ,of course1 ,i was ashamed3 ashamed6 ,i was frightened2 ,i expected to see the old woman change into a tall angel and take him off to heaven1 leaving me her original shape to repent in4 ,on recovering my thoughts1 ,i was inclined to take up my friend and carry him home in triumph1 ,i felt so strong4 ,why should not this thing be as poetical as any in the life of ,saint ,elizabeth of ,hungary or any one else8 for1 so we look at it with a pure thought1 we shall see about it the same light the ,areopagite saw at ,jerusalem surround the ,holy ,virgin1 and the same angels attending and guarding it4 ,and there is something else we miss2 there is the poetry of the things about us2 our railways1 factories1 mines1 roaring cities1 steam vessels1 and the endless novelties and wonders produced every day2 which if they were found only in the ,thousand and ,one ,nights1 or in any poem classical or romantic1 would be gloried over without end2 for as the majority of us know not a bit more about them1 but merely their names1 we keep up the same mystery1 the main thing required for the surprise of the imagination4 ,next to ,poetry1 ,painting and ,music have most power over the mind2 and how do you apply this influence8 ,in what direction is it forced8 ,why1 for the last1 you sit in your drawing-rooms1 and listen to a quantity of tinkling of brazen marches of going to war2 but you never see before your very eyes1 the palpable victory of leading nature by her own power1 to a conquest of blessings2 and when the music is over1 you turn to each other1 and enthusiastically whisper1 ,how fine6--,you point out to others1 7as if they had no eyes7 the sentiment of a flowing river with the moon on it1 as an emblem of the after-peace1 but you see not this in the long white cloud of steam1 the locomotive pours forth under the same moon1 rushing on2 the perfect type of the same1 with the presentment of the struggle beforehand4 ,the strong engine is never before you1 sighing all night1 with the white cloud above the chimney-shaft1 escaping like the spirits ,solomon put his seal upon1 in the ,arabian ,tales2 these mightier spirits are bound in a faster vessel2 and then let forth1 as of little worth1 when their work is done4 ,the ,earth shakes under you1 from the footfall of the ,genii man has made1 and you groan about the noise4 ,vast roads draw together the ,earth1 and you say how they spoil the prospect1 which you never cared a farthing about before4 ,you revel in ,geology3 but in chemistry1 the modern science1 possessing thousands of powers as great as any used yet1 you see no glory3--the only thought is so many ,acids and ,alkalies4 ,you require a metaphor for treachery1 and of course you think of our puny old friend the ,viper2 but the ,alkaline1 more searching and more unknown1 that may destroy you and your race1 you have never heard of1--and yet this possesses more of the very quality required1 namely1 mystery1 than any other that is in your hands4 ,the only ancient character you have retained in its proper force is ,love2 but you seem never to see any light about the results of long labour of mind1 the most intense ,love4 ,devotedness1 magnanimity1 generosity1 you seem to think have left the ,earth since the ,crusades4 ,in fact1 you never go out into ,life3 living only in the past world1 you go on repeating in new combinations the same elements for the same effect4 ,you have taught an enlightened ,public1 that the province of ,poetry is to reproduce the ,ancients2 not as ,keats did1 with the living heart of our own ,life2 but so as to cause the impression that you are not aware that they had wives and families like yourselves1 and laboured and rested like us all4 ,the greatest1 perhaps1 of modern poets seeming to take refuge from this1 has looked into the heart of man1 and shown you its pulsations1 fears1 self-doubts1 hates1 goodness1 devotedness1 and noble world-love2 this is not done under pretty flowers of metaphor in the lispings of a pet parson1 or in the strong but uncertain fashion of the ,american school2 still less in the dry operose quackery of professed doctors of psychology1 mere chaff not studied from nature1 and therefore worthless1 never felt1 and therefore useless2 but with the firm knowing hand of the anatomist1 demonstrating and making clear to others1 that the knowledge may be applied to purpose4 ,all this difficult task is achieved so that you may read till your own soul is before you1 and you know it2 but the enervated public complains that the work is obscure forsooth3 so we are always looking for green grass--verdant meads1 tall pines1 vineyards1 etc41 as the essentials of poetry2 these are all very pretty and very delicate1 the dust blows not in your eyes1 but ,chaucer has told us all this1 and while it was new1 far better than any one else2 why are we not to have something besides8 ,let us see a little of the poetry of man's own works1--,visibly in his garden walketh ,god4 ,the great portion of the public take a morbid delight in such works as ,frankenstein1 that ,poor1 impossible monster abhorred1 who would be disgusting if he were not so extremely ludicrous3 and all this search after impossible mystery1 such trumpery6 growing into the popular taste1 is fed with garbage2 doing more harm than all the preachings and poundings of optimistic ,reviews will be able to remedy in an hundred years4 ,the study of such matters as these does other harm than merely poisoning the mind in one direction2 it renders us sceptical of virtue in others1 and we lose the power of pure perception4 ,so --reading the glorious tale of ,griselda and looking about you1 you say there never was such a woman2 your wise men say she was a fool2 are there no such fools round about you8 pray look close3--so the result of this is1 you see no lesson in such things1 or at least cannot apply it1 and therefore the powers of the author are thrown away4 ,do you think ,god made ,boccaccio and ,chaucer to amuse you in your idle hours1 only that you might sit listening like crowned idiots1 and then debate concerning their faithfulness to truth8 ,you never can imagine but they knew more of nature than any of us1 or that they had less reverence for her4 ,in reference to ,painting1 the ,public are taught to look with delight upon murky old masters1 with dismally demoniac trees1 and dull waters of lead1 colourless and like ice2 upon rocks that make geologists wonder1 their angles are so impossible1 their fractures are so new4 ,thousands are given for uncomfortable ,dutch sun-lights2 but if you are shown a transcript of day itself1 with the purple shadow upon the mountains1 and across the still lake1 you know nothing of it because your fathers never bought such3 so you look for nothing in it2 nay1 let me set you in the actual place1 let the water damp your feet1 stand in the chill of the shadow itself1 and you will never tell me the colour on the hill1 or where the last of the crows caught the sinking sunlight4 ,letting observation sleep1 what can you know of nature8 and you are a judge of landscape indeed4 ,so it is that the world is taught to think of nature1 as seen through other men's eyes1 without any reference to its own original powers of perception1 and much natural beauty is lost4 ,to the ,castle ,ramparts ,the ,castle is erect on the hill's top1 ,to moulder there all day and night3 it stands ,with the long shadow lying at its foot4 ,that is a weary height which you must climb ,before you reach it2 and a dizziness ,turns in your eyes when you look down from it1 ,so standing clearly up into the sky4 ,i rose one day1 having a mind to see it4 ',twas on a clear ,spring morning1 and a blackbird ,awoke me with his warbling near my window3 ,my dream had fashioned this into a song ,that some one with grey eyes was singing me1 ,and which had drawn me so into myself ,that all the other shapes of sleep were gone3 ,and then1 at last1 it woke me1 as ,i said4 ,the sun shone fully in on me2 and brisk ,cool airs1 that had been cold but for his warmth1 ,blow thro' the open casement1 and sweet smells ,of flowers with the dew yet fresh upon them1-- ,rose-buds1 and showery lilacs1 and what stayed ,of ,april wallflowers4 ,i set early forth1 ,wishing to reach the ,castle when the heat ,should weigh upon it1 vertical at noon4 ,my path lay thro' green open fields at first1 ,with now and then trees rising statelily ,out of the grass2 and afterwards came lanes ,closed in by hedges smelling of the may1 ,and overshadowed by the meeting trees4 ,so ,i walked on with none but pleasant thoughts2 ,the ,spring was in me1 not alone around me1 ,and smiles came rippling o'er my lips for nothing4 ,i reached at length1--issuing from a lane ,which wound so that it seemed about to end ,always1 yet ended not for a long while1-- ,a space of ground thick grassed and level to ,the overhanging sky and the strong sun3 ,before me the brown sultry hill stood out1 ,peaked by its rooted ,castle1 like a part ,of its own self4 ,i laid me in the grass1 ,turning from it1 and looking on the sky1 ,and listening to the humming in the air ,that hums when no sound is2 because ,i chose ,to gaze on that which ,i had left1 not that ,which ,i had yet to see4 ,as one who strives ,after some knowledge known not till he sought1 ,whose soul acquaints him that his step by step ,has led him to a few steps next the end1 ,which he foresees already1 waits a little ,before he passes onward1 gathering ,together in his thoughts what he has done4 ,rising after a while1 the ascent began4 ,broken and bare the soil was2 and thin grass1 ,dry and scarce green1 was scattered here and there ,in tufts3 and1 toiling up1 my knees almost ,reaching my chin1 one hand upon my knee1 ,or grasping sometimes at the earth1 ,i went1 ,with eyes fixed on the next step to be taken1 ,not glancing right or left2 till1 at the end1 ,i stood straight up1 and the tower stood straight up ,before my face4 ,one tower1 and nothing more2 ,for all the rest has gone this way and that1 ,and is not anywhere1 saving a few ,fragments that lie about1 some on the top1 ,some fallen half down on either side the hill1 ,uncared for1 well nigh grown into the ground4 ,the tower is grey1 and brown1 and black1 with green ,patches of mildew and of ivy woven ,over the sightless loopholes and the sides3 ,and from the ivy deaf-coiled spiders dangle1 ,or scurry to catch food2 and their fine webs ,touch at your face wherever you may pass4 ,the sun's light scorched upon it2 and a fry ,of insects in one spot quivered for ever1 ,out and in1 in and out1 with glancing wings ,that caught the light1 and buzzings here and there2 ,that little life which swarms about large death2 ,no one too many or too few1 but each ,ordained1 and being each in its own place4 ,the ancient door1 cut deep into the wall1 ,and cramped with iron rusty now and rotten1 ,was open half3 and1 when ,i strove to move it ,that ,i might have free passage inwards1 stood ,unmoved and creaking with old uselessness3 ,so1 pushing it1 ,i entered1 while the dust ,was shaken down upon me from all sides4 ,the narrow stairs1 lighted by scanty streaks ,that poured in thro' the loopholes pierced high up1 ,wound with the winding tower1 until ,i gained1 ,delivered from the closeness and the damp ,and the dim air1 the outer battlements4 ,there opposite1 the tower's black turret-girth ,suppressed the multiplied steep chasm of fathoms1 ,so that immediately the fields far down ,lay to their heaving distance for the eyes1 ,satisfied with one gaze unconsciously1 ,to pass to glory of heaven1 and to know light4 ,here was no need of thinking3--merely sense ,was found sufficient3 the wind made me free1 ,breathed1 and returned by me in a hard breath3 ,and what at first seemed silence1 being roused ,by callings of the cuckoo from far off1 ,resolved itself into a sound of trees ,that swayed1 and into chirps reciprocal ,on each side1 and revolving drone of flies4 ,then1 stepping to the brink1 and looking sheer ,to where the slope ceased in the level stretch ,of country1 ,i sat down to lay my head ,backwards into a single ivy-bush ,complex of leaf4 ,i lay there till the wind ,blew to me1 from a church seen miles away1 ,half the hour's chimes4 ,great clouds were arched abroad ,like angels' wings2 returning beneath which1 ,i lingered homewards4 ,all their forms had merged ,and loosened when my walk was ended2 and1 ,while yet ,i saw the sun a perfect disc1 ,there was the moon beginning in the sky4 ,pax ,vobis ',tis of the ,father ,hilary4 ,he strove1 but could not pray3 so took ,the darkened stair1 where his feet shook ,a sad blind echo4 ,he kept up ,slowly4 ',twas a chill sway of air ,that autumn noon within the stair1 ,sick1 dizzy1 like a turning cup4 ,his brain perplexed him1 void and thin3 ,he shut his eyes and felt it spin2 ,the obscure deafness hemmed him in4 ,he said3 the air is calm outside4 ,he leaned unto the gallery ,where the chime keeps the night and day3 ,it hurt his brain1--he could not pray4 ,he had his face upon the stone3 ,deep 'twixt the narrow shafts1 his eye ,passed all the roofs unto the sky ,whose greyness the wind swept alone4 ,close by his feet he saw it shake ,with wind in pools that the rains make3 ,the ripple set his eyes to ache4 ,he said1 ,calm hath its peace outside4 ,he stood within the mystery ,girding ,god's blessed ,eucharist3 ,the organ and the chaunt had ceased3 ,a few words paused against his ear1 ,said from the altar3 drawn round him1 ,the silence was at rest and dim4 ,he could not pray4 ,the bell shook clear ,and ceased4 ,all was great awe1--the breath ,of ,god in man1 that warranteth ,wholly the inner things of ,faith4 ,he said3 ,there is the world outside4 ,ghent3 ,church of ,st4 ,bavon4 ,a ,modern ,idyl ,pride clings to age1 for few and withered powers1 ,which fall on youth in pleasures manifold1 ,like some bright dancer with a crowd of flowers ,and scented presents more than she can hold3 ,or as it were a child beneath a tree1 ,who in his healthy joy holds hand and cap ,beneath the shaken boughs1 and eagerly ,expects the fruit to fall into his lap4 ,so thought ,i while my cousin sat alone1 ,moving with many leaves in under tone1 ,and1 sheened as snow lit by a pale moonlight1 ,her childish dress struck clearly on the sight3 ,that1 as the lilies growing by her side ,casting their silver radiance forth with pride1 ,she seemed to dart an arrowy halo round1 ,brightening the spring time trees1 brightening the ground2 ,and beauty1 like keen lustre from a star1 ,glorified all the garden near and far4 ,the sunlight smote the grey and mossy wall ,where1 'mid the leaves1 the peaches one and all1 ,most like twin cherubim entranced above1 ,leaned their soft cheeks together1 pressed in love4 ,as the child sat1 the tendrils shook round her2 ,and1 blended tenderly in middle air1 ,gleamed the long orchard through the ivied gate3 ,and slanting sunbeams made the heart elate1 ,startling it into gladness like the sound1-- ,which echo childlike mimicks faintly round ,blending it with the lull of some far flood1-- ,of one long shout heard in a quiet wood4 ,a gurgling laugh far off the fountain sent1 ,as if the mermaid shape that in it bent ,spoke with subdued and faintest melody3 ,and birds sang their whole hearts spontaneously4 ,when from your books released1 pass here your hours1 ,dear child1 the sweet companion of these flowers1 ,these poplars1 scented shrubs1 and blossomed boughs ,of fruit-trees1 where the noisy sparrows house1 ,shaking from off the leaves the beaded dew4 ,now while the air is warm1 the heavens blue1 ,give full abandonment to all your gay ,swift childlike impulses in rompish play2-- ,the while your sisters in shrill laughter shout1 ,whirling above the leaves and round about1-- ,until at length it drops behind the wall1-- ,with awkward jerks1 the particoloured ball3 ,winning a smile even from the stooping age ,of that old matron leaning on her page1 ,who in the orchard takes a stroll or two1 ,watching you closely yet unseen by you4 ,then1 tired of gambols1 turn into the dark ,fir-skirted margins of your father's park2 ,and watch the moving shadows1 as you pass1 ,trace their dim network on the tufted grass1 ,and how on birch-trunks smooth and branches old1 ,the velvet moss bursts out in green and gold1 ,like the rich lustre full and manifold ,on breasts of birds that star the curtained gloom ,from their glass cases in the drawing room4 ,mark the spring leafage bend its tender spray ,gracefully on the sky's arial grey2 ,and listen how the birds so voluble ,sing joyful paeans winding to a swell1 ,and how the wind1 fitful and mournful1 grieves ,in gusty whirls among the dry red leaves2 ,and watch the minnows in the water cool1 ,and floating insects wrinkling all the pool4 ,so in your ramblings bend your earnest eyes4 ,high thoughts and feelings will come unto you1-- ,gladness will fall upon your heart like dew1-- ,because you love the earth and love the skies4 ,fair pearl1 the pride of all our family3 ,girt with the plenitude of joys so strong1 ,fashion and custom dull can do no wrong3 ,nestling your young face thus on ,nature's knee4 ,jesus ,wept ,mary rose up1 as one in sleep might rise1 ,and went to meet her brother's ,friend3 and they ,who tarried with her said3 she goes to pray ,and weep where her dead brother's body lies4 ,so1 with their wringing of hands and with sighs1 ,they stood before ,him in the public way4 ,had'st ,thou been with him1 ,lord1 upon that day1 ,he had not died1 she said1 drooping her eyes4 ,mary and ,martha with bowed faces kept ,holding ,his garments1 one on each side4--,where ,have ye laid him8 ,he asked4 ,lord1 come and see4 ,the sound of grieving voices heavily ,and universally was round ,him there1 ,a sound that smote ,his spirit4 ,jesus wept4 ,sonnets for ,pictures #a4 ,for a ,virgin and ,child1 by ,hans ,memmelinck2 in the ,academy of ,bruges ,mystery3 ,god1 ,man's ,life1 born into man ,of woman4 ,there abideth on her brow ,the ended pang of knowledge1 the which now ,is calm assured4 ,since first her task began1 ,she hath known all4 ,what more of anguish than ,endurance oft hath lived through1 the whole space ,through night till night1 passed weak upon her face ,while like a heavy flood the darkness ran8 ,all hath been told her touching her dear ,son1 ,and all shall be accomplished4 ,where he sits ,even now1 a babe1 he holds the symbol fruit ,perfect and chosen4 ,until ,god permits1 ,his soul's elect still have the absolute ,harsh nether darkness1 and make painful moan4 #b4 ,a ,marriage of ,st4 ,katharine1 by the same2 in the ,hospital of ,st4 ,john at ,bruges4 ,mystery3 ,katharine1 the bride of ,christ4 ,she kneels1 and on her hand the holy ,child ,setteth the ring4 ,her life is sad and mild1 ,laid in ,god's knowledge--ever unenticed ,from ,him1 and in the end thus fitly priced4 ,awe1 and the music that is near her1 wrought ,of ,angels1 hath possessed her eyes in thought3 ,her utter joy is her's1 and hath sufficed4 ,there is a pause while ,mary ,virgin turns ,the leaf1 and reads4 ,with eyes on the spread book1 ,that damsel at her knees reads after her4 ,john whom ,he loved and ,john ,his harbinger ,listen and watch4 ,whereon soe'er thou look1 ,the light is starred in gems1 and the gold burns4 #c4 ,a ,dance of ,nymphs1 by ,andrea ,mantegna2 in the ,louvre4 7,it is necessary to mention1 that this picture would appear to have been in the artist's mind an allegory1 which the modern spectator may seek vainly to interpret47 ,scarcely1 ,i think2 yet it indeed may be ,the meaning reached him1 when this music rang ,sharp through his brain1 a distinct rapid pang1 ,and he beheld these rocks and that ridg'd sea4 ,but ,i believe he just leaned passively1 ,and felt their hair carried across his face ,as each nymph passed him2 nor gave ear to trace ,how many feet2 nor bent assuredly ,his eyes from the blind fixedness of thought ,to see the dancers4 ,it is bitter glad ,even unto tears4 ,its meaning filleth it1 ,a portion of most secret life3 to wit3-- ,each human pulse shall keep the sense it had ,with all1 though the mind's labour run to nought4 #d4 ,a ,venetian ,pastoral1 by ,giorgione2 in the ,louvre4 7,in this picture1 two cavaliers and an undraped woman are seated in the grass1 with musical instruments1 while another woman dips a vase into a well hard by1 for water47 ,water1 for anguish of the solstice1--yea1 ,over the vessel's mouth still widening ,listlessly dipt to let the water in ,with slow vague gurgle4 ,blue1 and deep away1 ,the heat lies silent at the brink of day4 ,now the hand trails upon the viol-string ,that sobs2 and the brown faces cease to sing1 ,mournful with complete pleasure4 ,her eyes stray ,in distance2 through her lips the pipe doth creep ,and leaves them pouting2 the green shadowed grass ,is cool against her naked flesh4 ,let be3 ,do not now speak unto her lest she weep1-- ,nor name this ever4 ,be it as it was3-- ,silence of heat1 and solemn poetry4 #e4 ,angelica rescued from the ,sea-monster1 by ,ingres2 in the ,luxembourg4 ,a remote sky1 prolonged to the sea's brim3 ,one rock-point standing buffetted alone1 ,vexed at its base with a foul beast unknown1 ,hell-spurge of geomaunt and teraphim3 ,a knight1 and a winged creature bearing him1 ,reared at the rock3 a woman fettered there1 ,leaning into the hollow with loose hair ,and throat let back and heartsick trail of limb4 ,the sky is harsh1 and the sea shrewd and salt4 ,under his lord1 the griffin-horse ramps blind ,with rigid wings and tail4 ,the spear's lithe stem ,thrills in the roaring of those jaws3 behind1 ,the evil length of body chafes at fault4 ,she doth not hear nor see--she knows of them4 #f4 ,the same4 ,clench thine eyes now1--'tis the last instant1 girl3 ,draw in thy senses1 set thy knees1 and take ,one breath for all3 thy life is keen awake1-- ,thou may'st not swoon4 ,was that the scattered whirl ,of its foam drenched thee8--or the waves that curl ,and split1 bleak spray wherein thy temples ache8-- ,or was it his the champion's blood to flake ,thy flesh8--,or thine own blood's anointing1 girl84444 4444,now1 silence2 for the sea's is such a sound ,as irks not silence2 and except the sea1 ,all is now still4 ,now the dead thing doth cease ,to writhe1 and drifts4 ,he turns to her3 and she ,cast from the jaws of ,death1 remains there1 bound1 ,again a woman in her nakedness4 ,papers of ,the ,m4 ,s4 ,society ,no4 ,,iv4 ,smoke4 ,i'm the king of the ,cadaverals1 ,i'm ,spectral ,president2 ,and1 all from east to occident1 ,there's not a man whose dermal walls ,contain so narrow intervals1 ,so lank a resident4 ,look at me and you shall see ,the ghastliest of the ghastly2 ,the eyes that have watched a thousand years1 ,the forehead lined with a thousand cares1 ,the seaweed-character of hairs6-- ,you shall see and you shall see1 ,or you may hear1 as ,i can feel1 ,when the winds batter1 how these parchments clatter1 ,and the beautiful tenor that's ever ringing ,when thro' the ,seaweed the breeze is singing3 ,and you should know1 ,i know a great deal1 ,when the bacchi arcanum ,i clutch and gripe1 ,i know a great deal of wind and weather ,by hearing my own cheeks slap together ,a-pulling up a pipe4 ,i believe--and ,i conceive ,i'm an authority ,in all things ghastly1 ,first for tenuity ,for stringiness secondly1 ,and sallowness lastly-- ,i say ,i believe a cadaverous man ,who would live as long and as lean as he can ,should live entirely on bacchi-- ,on the bacchic ambrosia entirely feed him2 ,when living thus1 so little lack ,i1 ,so easy am ,i1 ,i'll never heed him ,who anything seeketh beyond the ,leaf3 ,for1 what with mumbling pipe-ends freely1 ,and snuffing the ashes now and then1 ,i give it as my firm belief ,one might go living on genteelly ,to the age of an antediluvian4 ,this from the king to each spectral ,grim-- ,mind1 we address no bibbing smoker6 ,tell not us 'tis as broad as it's long1 ,we've no breadth more than a leathern thong ,tanned--or a tarnished poker3 ,ye are also lank and slim8-- ,your king he comes of an ancient line ,which length without breadth the ,gods define1 ,and look ye follow him6 ,lanky lieges6 the ,gods one day ,will cut off this line1 as geometers say1 ,equal to any given line3-- ,,pi1--,,pe--their hands divine ,do more than we can see3 ,they cut off every length of clay ,really in a most extraordinary way-- ,they fill your bowls up--,dutch ,c'naster1 ,shag1 ,york ,river--fill 'em faster1 ,fill 'em faster up1 ,i say4 ,what ,turkey1 ,oronoko1 ,cavendish6 ,there's the fuel to make a chafing dish1 ,a chafing dish to peel the petty ,paint that girls and boys call pretty-- ,peel it off from lip and cheek3 ,we've none such here2 yet1 if ye seek ,an infallible test for a raw beginner1 ,mundungus will always discover a sinner4 ,now ye are charged1 we give the word ,light6 and pour it thro' your noses1 ,and let it hover and lodge in your hair ,bird-like1 bird-like--,you're aware ,anacreon had a bird-- ,a bird6 and filled his bowl with roses4 ,ha ha6 ye laugh in ghastlywise1 ,and the smoke comes through your eyes1 ,and you're looking very grim1 ,and the air is very dim1 ,and the casual paper flare ,taketh still a redder glare4 ,now thou pretty little fellow1 ,now thine eyes are turning yellow1 ,thou shalt be our page to-night6 ,come and sit thee next to us1 ,and as we may want a light ,see that thou be dexterous4 ,now bring forth your tractates musty1 ,dry1 cadaverous1 and dusty1 ,one1 on the sound of mammoths' bones ,in motion2 one1 on ,druid-stones3 ,show designs for pipes most ghastly1 ,and devils and ogres grinning nastily6 ,show1 show the limnings ye brought back1 ,since round and round the zodiac ,ye galloped goblin horses which ,were light as smoke and black as pitch2 ,and those ye made in the mouldy moon1 ,and ,uranus1 ,saturn1 and ,neptune1 ,and in the planet ,mercury1 ,where all things living and dead have an eye ,which sometimes opening suddenly ,stareth and startleth strangly ,but now the night is growing better1 ,and every jet of smoke grows jetter1 ,while yet there blinks sufficient light1 ,bring in those skeletons that fright ,most men into fits1 but that ,we relish for their want of fat4 ,bring them in1 the ,cimabues ,with all or each that horribly true is1 ,francias1 ,giottos1 ,masaccios1 ,that tread on the tops of their bony toes1 ,and every one with a long sharp arrow ,cleverly shot through his spinal marrow1 ,with plenty of gridirons1 spikes1 and fires ,and fiddling angels in sheets and quires4 ,hold6 'tis dark6 'tis lack of light1 ,or something wrong in this royal sight1 ,or else our musty1 dusty1 and right ,well-beloved lieges all ,are standing in rank against the wall1 ,and ever thin and thinner1 and tall ,and taller grow and cadaveral6 ,subjects1 ye are sharp and spare1 ,every nose is blue and frosty1 ,and your back-bone's growing bare1 ,and your king can count your costae1 ,and your bones are clattering1 ,and your teeth are chattering1 ,and ye spit out bits of pipe1 ,which1 shorter grown1 ye faster gripe ,in jaws2 and weave a cloudy cloak ,that wraps up all except your bones ,whose every joint is oozing smoke3 ,and there's a creaky music drones ,whenas your lungs distend your ribs1 ,a sound1 that's like the grating nibs ,of pens on paper late at night2 ,your shanks are yellow more than white ,and very like what ,holbein drew6 ,avaunt6 ye are a ghastly crew ,too like the ,campo ,santo--down6 ,we are your monarch1 but we own ,that were we not1 we very well ,might take ye to be imps of hell3 ,but ye are glorious ghastly sprites1 ,what ho6 our page6 ,sir knave--lights1 lights1 ,the final pipes are to be lit3 ,sit1 gentlemen1 we charge ye sit ,until the cock affrays the night ,and heralds in the limping morn1 ,and makes the owl and raven flit2 ,until the jolly moon is white1 ,and till the stars and moon are gone4 ,no4 ,v4 ,rain4 ,the chamber is lonely and light2 ,outside there is nothing but night-- ,and wind and a creeping rain4 ,and the rain clings to the pane3 ,and heavy and drear's ,the night2 and the tears ,of heaven are dropt in pain4 ,and the tears of heaven are dropt in pain2 ,and man pains heaven and shuts the rain ,outside1 and sleeps3 and winds are sighing2 ,and turning worlds sing mass for the dying4 ,reviews ,christmas ,eve and ,easter ,day3 by ,robert ,browning4--,chapman and ,hall4 #ahej4 ,there are occasions when the office of the critic becomes almost simply that of an expositor2 when his duty is not to assert1 but to interpret4 ,it is his privilege to have been the first to study a subject1 and become familiar with it2 what remains is to state facts1 and to suggest considerations2 not to lay down dogmas4 ,that which he speaks of is to him itself a dogma2 he starts from conviction3 his it is to convince others1 and1 as far as may be1 by the same means as satisfied himself2 to incite to the same study1 doing his poor best1 meanwhile1 to supply the present want of it4 ,thus much1 indeed1 is the critic's duty always2 but he generally feels the right1 and has it1 of speaking with authority4 ,he condemns1 or gives praise2 and his judgment1 though merely individual and subject to revision1 is judgment4 ,before the certainty of genius and deathless power1 in the contemplation of consummate art1 his position changes3 and well for him if he knows1 and is contented it should be so4 ,here he must follow1 happy if he only follows and serves2 and while even here he will not shelve his doubts1 or blindly refuse to exercise a candid discrimination1 his demur at unquestioning assent1 far from betraying any arrogance1 will be discreetly advanced1 and on clearly stated grounds4 ,of all poets1 there is none more than ,robert ,browning1 in approaching whom diffidence is necessary4 ,the mere extent of his information cannot pass unobserved1 either as a fact1 or as a title to respect4 ,no one who has read the body of his works will deny that they are replete with mental and speculative subtlety1 with vivid and most diversified conception of character1 with dramatic incident and feeling2 with that intimate knowledge of outward nature which makes every sentence of description a living truth2 replete with a most human tenderness and pathos4 ,common as is the accusation of extravagance1 and unhesitatingly as it is applied1 in a general off-hand style1 to the entire character of ,browning's poems1 it would require some jesuitism of self-persuasion to induce any one to affirm his belief in the existence of such extravagance in the conception of the poems1 or in the sentiments expressed2 of any want of concentration in thought1 of national or historical keeping4 ,far from this1 indeed1 a deliberate unity of purpose is strikingly apparent4 ,without referring for the present to what are assumed to be perverse faults of execution--a question the principles and bearing of which will shortly be considered--assuredly the mention of the names of a few among ,browning's poems--of ,paracelsus1 ,pippa ,passes1 ,luria1 the ,souls's ,tragedy1 ,king ,victor and ,king ,charles1 even of the less perfect achievement1 ,strafford2 or1 passing to the smaller poems1 of ,the ,soliloquy of the ,spanish ,cloister1 ,the ,laboratory1 and ,the ,bishop orders his ,tomb at ,st4 ,praxed's2--will at once realize to the memory of all readers an abstruse ideal never lost sight of1 and treated to the extreme of elaboration4 ,as regards this point1 we address all in any manner acquainted with the poet's works1 certain of receiving an affirmative answer even from those who can't read ,sordello1 or understand the object of writing in that style4 ,if so many exceptions to ,browning's system of extravagance be admitted1--and we again refer for confirmation or refutation to all who have sincerely read him1 and who1 valuing written criticism at its worth1 value also at its worth the criticism of individual conviction1--wherein are we to seek this extravagance8 ,the groundwork exempted1 the imputation attaches1 if anywhere1 to the framework2 to the body1 if not to the soul4 ,and we are thus left to consider the style1 or mode of expression4 ,style is not stationary1 or1 in the concrete1 matter of principle3 style is1 firstly1 national2 next1 chronological2 and lastly1 individual4 ,to try the oriental system by the ,european1 and pronounce either wrong by so much as it exceeds or falls short1 would imply so entire a want of comprehensive appreciation as can scarcely fail to induce the conviction1 that the two are distinct and independent1 each to be tested on its own merits4 ,again1 were the ,elizabethan dramatists right1 or are those of our own day8 ,neither absolutely1 as by comparison alone2 his period speaks in each2 and each must be judged by this3 not whether he is true to any given type1 but whether his own type be a true one for himself4 ,and this1 which holds good between nations and ages1 holds good also between individuals4 ,very different from ,shelley's are ,wordsworth's nature in description1 his sentiment1 his love2 ,burn's and ,keats's different from these and from each other3 yet are all these1 nature1 and sentiment1 and love4 ,but here it will be urged3 by this process any and every style is pronounced good1 so that it but find a measure of recognition in its own age and country2 nay1 even the author's self-approval will be sufficient4 ,and1 as a corollary1 each age must and ought to reject its predecessor2 and ,voltaire was no less than right in dubbing ,shakspere barbarian4 ,that it is not so1 however1 will appear when the last element of truth in style1 that with which all others combine1 which includes and implies consistency with the author's self1 with his age and his country1 is taken into account4 ,appropriateness of treatment to subject it is which lies at the root of all controversy on style3 this is the last and the whole test4 ,and the fact that none other is requisite1 or1 more strictly1 that all others are but aspects of this one1 will very easily be allowed when it is reflected that the subject1 to be of an earnest and sincere ideal1 must be an emanation of the poet's most secret soul2 and that the soul receives teaching from circumstance1 which is the time when and place where4 ,this premised1 it must next be borne in mind that the poet's conception of his subject is not identical with1 and1 in the majority of cases1 will be unlike1 his reader's4 ,and1 the question of style 7manner7 being necessarily subordinate to that of subject 7matter71 it is not for the reader to dispute with the author on his mode of rendering1 provided that should be accepted as embodying 7within the bounds of grammatical logic7 the intention preconceived4 ,the object of the poet in writing1 why he attempts to describe an event as resulting from this cause or this1 or why he assumes such as the effect2 all these considerations the reader is competent to entertain3 any two men may deduce from the same premises1 and may probably arrive at different conclusions3 but1 these conclusions reached1 what remains is a question of resemblance1 which each must determine for himself1 as best conscious of his own intention4 ,to take an instance4 ,shakspere's conception of ,macbeth as a man capable of uttering a pompous conceit-- 7,here lay ,duncan1 ,his silver skin laced with his golden blood--7 in a moment1 to him1 and to all present1 of startling purport1 may be a correct or an impressive conception1 or it may be the reverse4 ,that the rendering of the momentary intention is adequate here there is no reason to doubt4 ,if so1 in what respect is the reader called upon to investigate a matter of style8 ,he must simply return to the question of whether this point of character be consistent with others imagined of the same person2 this1 answered affirmatively1 is an approval1--negatively1 a condemnation1 of intention2 the merit of style1 in either case1 being mere competence1 and that admitted irrespectively of the reader's liking or disliking of the passage per se1 or as part of a context4 ,why1 in this same tragedy of ,macbeth1 is a drunken porter introduced between a murder and its discovery8 ,did ,shakspere really intend him to be a sharp-witted man8 ,these questions are pertinent and necessary4 ,there is no room for disputing that this scene is purposely a comic scene3 and1 if this is certain1 the style of the speech is appropriate to the scene1 and of the scene1 to the conception of the drama8 ,is that conception admirable8 ,we have entered thus at length on the investigation of adequacy and appropriateness of style1 and of the mode by which entire classes of disputable points1 usually judged under that name1 may be reduced to the more essential element of conception2 because it will be almost invariably found1 that a mere arbitrary standard of irresponsible private predilection is then resorted to4 ,nor can this be well guarded against4 ,the concrete1 style1 being assumed as always constituting an entity auxiliary to1 but not of necessity modified by1 and representing subject1--as something substantially pre-existing in the author's mind or practice1 and belonging to him individually2 the reader will1 not without show of reason1 betake himself to the trial of personality by personality1 another's by his own2 and will thus pronounce on poems or passages of poems not as elevated1 or vigorous1 or well-sustained1 or the opposite1 in idea1 but1 according to certain notions of his own1 as attractive1 original1 or conventional writing4 ,thus far as regards those parts of execution which concern human#ac embodiment--the metaphysical and dramatic or epic faculties4 ,of style in description the reader is more nearly as competent a judge as the writer4 ,in the one case1 the poet is bound to realize an idea1 which is his own1 and the justness of which1 and therefore of the form of its expression1 can be decided only by reasoning and analogy2 in the other1 having for his type material phaenomena1 he must reproduce the things as cognizable by all1 though not hereby in any way exempt from adhering absolutely to his proper perception of them4 ,here1 even as to ideal description or simile1 the reader can assert its truth or falsehood of purpose1 its sufficiency or insufficiency of means3 but here again he must beware of exceeding his rights1 and of substituting himself to his author4 ,he must not dictate under what aspect nature is to be considered1 stigmatizing the one chosen1 because his own bent is rather towards some other4 ,in the exercise of censure1 he cannot fairly allow any personal peculiarities of view to influence him2 but will have to decide from common grounds of perception1 unless clearly conscious of short-coming1 or of the extreme of any corresponding peculiarity on the author's part4 #ac ,in employing the word human1 we would have our intention understood to include organic spiritualism--the superhuman treated1 from a human pou sto1 as ideal mind1 form1 power1 action1 c4 ,in speaking of the adaptation of style to conception1 we advanced that1 details of character and of action being a portion of the latter1 the real point to determine in reference to the former is1 whether such details are completely rendered in relation to the general purpose4 ,and here1 to return to ,robert ,browning1 we would enforce on the attention of those among his readers who assume that he spoils fine thoughts by a vicious1 extravagant1 and involved style1 a few analytical questions1 to be answered unbiassed by hearsay evidence4 ,concerning the dramatic works3 ,is the leading idea conspicuously brought forward throughout each work8 ,is the language of the several speakers such as does not create any impression other than that warranted by the subject matter of each8 ,if so1 does it create the impression apparently intended8 ,is the character of speech varied according to that of the speaker8 ,are the passages of description and abstract reflection so introduced as to add to poetic1 without detracting from dramatic1 excellence8 ,about the narrative poems1 and those of a more occasional and personal quality the same questions may be asked with some obvious adaptation2 and this about all3--,are the versification strong1 the sound sharp or soft1 monotonous1 hurried1 in proportion to the requirement of sense2 the illustrative thoughts apt and new2 the humour quaint and relishing8 ,finally1 is not in many cases that which is spoken of as something extraneous1 dragged in aforethought1 for the purpose of singularity1 the result more truly of a most earnest and single-minded labor after the utmost rendering of idiomatic conversational truth2 the rejection of all stop-gap words2 about the most literal transcript of fact compatible with the ends of poetry and true feeling for ,art8 ,this a point worthy note1 and not capable of contradiction4#ad #ad ,we may instance several scenes of ,pippa ,passes1--the concluding one especially1 where ,pippa reviews her day2 the whole of the ,soul's ,tragedy1--the poetic as well as the prose portion2 ,the ,flight of the ,duchess2 ,waring1 c42 and passages continually recurring in ,sordello1 and in ,colombe's ,birthday4 ,these questions answered categorically will1 we believe1 be found to establish the assurance that ,browning's style is copious1 and certainly not other than appropriate1--instance contrasted with instance--as the form of expression bestowed on the several phases of a certain ever-present form of thought4 ,we have already endeavored to show that1 where style is not inadequate1 its object as a means being attained1 the mind must revert to its decision as to relative and collective value of intention3 and we will again leave ,browning's manifestations of intellectual purpose1 as such1 for the verdict of his readers4 ,to those who yet insist3 ,why cannot ,i read ,sordello8 we can only answer3--,admitted a leading idea1 not only metaphysical but subtle and complicated to the highest degree2 how work out this idea1 unless through the finest intricacy of shades of mental development8 ,admitted a philosophic comprehensiveness of historical estimate and a minuteness of familiarity with details1 with the added assumption1 besides1 of speaking with the very voice of the times2 how present this position1 unless by standing at an eminent point1 and addressing thence a not unprepared audience8 ,admitted an intense aching concentration of thought2 how be self-consistent1 unless uttering words condensed to the limits of language8--,and let us at last say3 ,read ,sordello again4 ,why hold firm that you ought to be able at once to know ,browning's stops1 and to pluck out the heart of his mystery8 ,surely1 if you do not understand him1 the fact tells two ways4 ,but1 if you will understand him1 you shall4 ,we have been desirous to explain and justify the state of feeling in which we enter on the consideration of a new poem by ,robert ,browning4 ,those who already feel with us will scarcely be disposed to forgive the prolixity which1 for the present1 has put it out of our power to come at the work itself3 but1 if earnestness of intention will plead our excuse1 we need seek for no other4 ,the ,evil under the ,sun ,how long1 oh ,lord8--,the voice is sounding still1 ,not only heard beneath the altar stone1 ,not heard of ,john ,evangelist alone ,in ,patmos4 ,it doth cry aloud and will ,between the earth's end and earth's end1 until ,the day of the great reckoning1 bone for bone1 ,and blood for righteous blood1 and groan for groan3 ,then shall it cease on the air with a sudden thrill2 ,not slowly growing fainter if the rod ,strikes one or two amid the evil throng1 ,or one oppressor's hand is stayed and numbs1-- ,not till the vengeance that is coming comes3 ,for shall all hear the voice excepting ,god8 ,or ,god not listen1 hearing8--,lord1 how long8 ,published ,monthly4--,price ,one ,shilling4 ,art and ,poetry1 ,being ,thoughts towards ,nature4 ,conducted principally by ,artists4 ,of the little worthy the name of writing that has ever been written upon the principles of ,art1 7of course excepting that on the mere mechanism71 a very small portion is by ,artists themselves2 and that is so scattered1 that one scarcely knows where to find the ideas of an ,artist except in his pictures4 ,with a view to obtain the thoughts of ,artists1 upon ,nature as evolved in ,art1 in another language besides their own proper one1 this ,periodical has been established4 ,thus1 then1 it is not open to the conflicting opinions of all who handle the brush and palette1 nor is it restricted to actual practitioners2 but is intended to enunciate the principles of those who1 in the true spirit of ,art1 enforce a rigid adherence to the simplicity of ,nature either in ,art or ,poetry1 and consequently regardless whether emanating from practical ,artists1 or from those who have studied nature in the ,artist's ,school4 ,hence this work will contain such original ,tales 7in prose or verse71 ,poems1 ,essays1 and the like1 as may seem conceived in the spirit1 or with the intent1 of exhibiting a pure and unaffected style1 to which purpose analytical ,reviews of current ,literature--especially ,poetry--will be introduced2 as also illustrative ,etchings1 one of which latter1 executed with the utmost care and completeness1 will appear in each number4