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barelegged, fetched me a tumbler of cool, Was more than half gove, and I had no idea I can assure myself of no worse fault than creamy milk nearly twelve inches high. how far off the Badehaus might be. Hasten- the venial one of having " interviewed" them

ing onward, the narrow walls of the ravine and their like pretty often, and occasionally

suddenly opened out right and left in a vast published some part of my observations in On my homeward journey I happened circular sweep, and I stood within a grand the public prints ; but if I have erred, it has upon a long, winding, shadow.haunted pass, natural amphitheatre, rising high and de- been on the side of eulogy; and should I such as abounds in this region, and which re- scending low above and beneath. My sta- ever have occasion to mention trees in fu. minded me (as, indeed, did the whole Saxon tion was about a third of the way up, in what ture, it will be with the proviso that all of Switzerland) of our own Yellowstone Valley, might be called the dress-circle. The arena them—the oldest, biggest, and respectablest, modeled on the scale of one inch to the foot, below was crowded thick with summer foli. more particularly—are no better than incor. or thereabouts. The white-sanded bottom was nge-oaks, elms, beeches, and underbrush in rigible blockheads at bottom. so narrow that space was scarcely left for the profusion. There were the players-gay fel. slender path to follow the meanderings of lows, in nodding caps and green, fluttering the rivulet, which tinkled concealed beneath cloaks. The audience was composed of a To the banks of the Elbe I came at luxuriant overgrowths of forget-me-not and stiff and sedate assemblage of dark browed | last, with a dusty distance of three or four fern. Up to the sky, on either side, climbed hemlocks, standing rigid and erect each in miles still lying between me and Schanthe rugged walls, shaggy with fir and hem- his rock-bound seat. Not one of them all dau. But the scenery hereabouts is nofel lock, and thatched below with grass-tufts and was sitting down; but, whether this were and striking: the stone - quarries extending shrubs. The fallen fragments which ever and owing to some masterly exploit on the part up and down the river for many leagues, and anon blocked the way with their surly shoul- of one of the actors, bringing every spectator | the heaps of sand and débris, rising to an ders were iridescent with green moss, and in irrepressible enthusiasm to his feet, or average height of perhaps a bundred feet, and dampness seemed to exude from the rocky whether (as, judging from their gloomy and sloping sharply downward to the water's edge, clefts. The footpath was criss-crossed with unyielding aspect, seemed more likely) they are a remarkable if not a strictly picturesque pine-roots, till it resembled an irregular par- had started up to demand the condign pun. feature. The path if the informal track quet-ioor. Sometimes the bowlders had so ishment of some unlucky wretch who had which leads a risky life along the base of fallen together as to inclose spacious hollows, outraged their sense of decorum, I had no these lofty dumping - grounds can be called the crevioes of which had been stopped up means of determining. In fact, my arrival | such-yields wearisomely to the feet, and a with sand and pebbles and vegetable decay. seemed to have put an abrupt stop to the wary lookout must be kept to dodge the One might have lived very comfortably in proceedings, whatever they may have been; heavy stones which are continually bowling many of these caves ; they were overrun with there was no voice or movement anywhere, downward from the summit. At intervals raspberry and blackberry vines, and within save as created involuntarily by the mysteri. there are slides, compactly constructed of were cool and dry, with clean, sanded floors. ous wind. On my shouting across, however, masonry and worn very smooth, by which the But I saw no troglodytes.

to a sombre giant on the opposite side of the square blocks quarried from the cliffs are At one point a broad nose of rock jutted amphitheatre, to know the title of the drama shot to the water's edge, and are there taken over the pathway full fifteen feet, like a ceil- which was under representation, he answered on board by canal-boats and floated to Dresing; and so low-studded was it that I could me, indeed, but with an unreal tone of hol| den, all the modern part of wbicb is built easily touch its flat surface with my upraised | low mockery, and in such a manner as to of this material. The supply is practically hand. There was something fascinating about leave me no wiser than I was before. Mani. inexhaustible, but that does not prevent the this ak, and at the same time provocative festly, I was looked upon as an interloper, cliffs from suffering in appearance; and beof a smile-Old Nature making a humorous who had slipped in without paying for a fore many years a voyage up the Elbe will pretense of imitating the works of man! But ticket; and self - respect demanded that I be no longer attractive. It is a nice question the grotesque pranks she plays with this soft- should retire at once.

in economy, whether it be worth while to rob hearted white sandstone of hers are indescrib- But the theatre, vast as it was, had only Saxon Switzerland to pay Dresden. Perhaps able and endless. In many places the sur- two doors—that by which I had entered, and only the stone.contractors would answer it face of the rock is honey-combed and other. another just opposite. To reach this I must unhesitatingly in the affirmative. It reminds wise marked as if by the action of water. I make half the circuit of the inclosure, the me of the little boy who was courted by his am not acquainted with the geological his- direct route across the arena being imprac-friends as being the possessor of a fine cake. tory of this strange tract, but I should fancy ticable, owing to the savagely precipitous with the praiseworthy purpose of at once it might have been the compact, sandy bed nature of the descent. The path which had concentrating and augmenting their regard, of some great lake, which having broken its hitherto guided me now bearing to the right, he made the cake a part of himself by eating boundaries, and gone soaward by way of the I followed it in that direction, passing almost it. But, strange to say, his friends ceased to Elbe, the sand-bed caked and cracked and within reach of the outstretched arms of hun- visit him from that day forward, and the cake hardened, and became traversed with ravines dreds of inhospitable hemlocks. Presently gave him a stomach-ache. and gulches, worn by downward-percolating the sun, which, hidden behind a cloud, had I took my dinner that evening at the streams. The lake must have subsided gradu- sunk almost to the upper verge of the rocky Forsthaus, one of that row of hotels which ally to produce the horizontal markings which rampart, shone out with mellow lustre, fling- rampart Schandau. Hot and noisy as they are everywhere apparent. I have often seen ing my shadow far away into the centre of are to live in, their bill.of-fare is to Herr precisely similar formations to this of the the arena, where the green - coated actors Boettcher's as a novel by Thackeray to a Saxon Switzerland at the bottom of dried-off treated it with great indignity, bandying it school-boy's composition. I dined on a termud-ponds. Beyond the mouth of the Elbe are from one to another, tossing it up and down, race beneath the trees, with the river just great shoals and bars, composed of the same and more than once letting it tumble heed beyond. At dark, every table bad its great kind of sand as that which I trod under foot lessly into some treacherous pitfall. Mean astral-lamp, and the gentlemanly proprietor in this shadowy ravine.

while the wind, which had caused me no amused himself and his guests by making It should not be called a pass, for it was small annoyance already that afternoon, was blue, red, and green fires on the stone steps. a place to linger and pause in, to enter at maliciously making the rounds of the house, Next morning, as I stood with my valise sunrise and scarcely depart from by moon. and stirring up every individual in it to a sib- on the platform of the railway - station at light. It seemed wholly secluded; I met ilant utterance, whose import there was no Krippen, a fellow-he keeps a small tobacconeither foot nor footprint throughout its mistaking. It was my first and will, I fancy, store on See-Strasse, in Dresden-stepped up whole long length. Even the sky might not be my last-experience of being hissed out

to me, and, after requesting the favor of a be too familiar; looking upward, but a nar- of a theatre; and since I was neither a con- light from my cigar, supposed, in a cheerful row strip of blue was risible, and the over- demned playwright nor an unsuccessful actor, tone, that I was returning to town by the apbending trees fretted even that with emerald I could not help resenting the injustice of the proaching train. lattice-work. However, I could not support proceeding. Yet, after all, why should I con- “No,” said I, smiling in spite of myself. life on raspberries and water; the afternoon sent to be ruffled by their senseless clamor? “ I left Dresden finally yesterday morning. I



am now bound for Prague; and never expect, out asking her leave, although a shut win- club as lady-novelists are fond of describing sir, lo see you, or buy your cigars, again!" dow gave her a sick-headache. When his their heroes as behaving in drawing-rooms,

The train came in ; tbe cigar-vender as- dear self was attended to, then he had petits they would be kicked out. But I am talking sisted a pretty young woman, with small, soins for the lady-not before. He was a for information. Now, tell me, do women shapely feet, into a second-class carriage; good fellow, and utterly unconscious of his love brutal men!" then the whistle blew, the train started, and egotism, and quite astonished and dismayed “Some women do, I think; they love

when girl after girl rejected him and bis for- strength always, and manhood, and a charactunes.”

ter totally unlike themselves. Perhaps they WOMEN'S MEN.

"A very nice person, no doubt," said excuse brutality as an evidence of strength. Orestes.

I have known one very refined and superior N

“Yes, one of your heroes," replied I. woman who loved and married a brutal, cruel “ Jane Eyre," Orestes said to me: “Now, a woman's hero would at least have i fellow, and really liked to have him push her

“ Rochester is a woman's man-brutal, the tact to affect to forget himself, if he did downl-stairs. She thought it was the defect mysterious, grand, tender, hateful, and im- not."

of early education, and used to say, ‘Poor possible.”

“But how do you account for che fasci. Charles ! he is so sensitive!' Other people who “What makes you so severe about wom- nation of Rochester-he had no petits soins ? " saw her young brow grow wrinkled before she an's estimate of mankind ? " said I, rather “Oh, yes, he had! His very severity was was thirty, and her early bloom vanish, would tartly. “Has any woman fallen in love with complimentary, and his tenderness was sui- bave liked to confine poor Charles's sensi. you ?(Orestes and I always quarrel.) perb. Rochester was a little absurd as a sketch, tiveness behind the four walls of some public

“Ah! Now you are very satirical, are as it was the first work of the trembling institution; but she continued to work for you not ?" said Orestes, calmly, looking in hand of genius overweighted by its own power. him, shield him, and pity him, to the last ; the fire; “but oblige me by looking over the Charlotte Brontë wanted to paint strength

but this instance was very rare. I think heroes of women's novels, and also remember and power. She made the lines a little blurred, women love and appreciate kindness, and are the men whom you and I know, who are wor- and Rochester became brutal in manner, offended by brutality, as a general axiom." shiped by women-are they not a poor set ?" but never in deed. She had not seen so- “Well, then, I have another serious count

“Well," said I, “as all men are more or ciety, so she made some mistakes; but they to make against women-novelists; their heless supposed to belong to women, and gen. were very external and unimportant. She roes are so mysterious. What do they want erally marry them, or try to, we may call all knew how to draw a real character who has to wrap the very common fellows up in such men women's men. Do you submit to that lived, and who has made little Jane Eyre an enchanted carpet of mystery for?classification ?"

stand forth as one of the best heroines of * Because women know very little of the “No; I am referring to the ideal man modern times. Think what an insignificant lives of men. What can a woman, from her whom the female novelist evokes, as the Ger- person she would have been if Rochester had secluded 'coign of vantage,' know of the life man did the camel, from the depths of her not loved her! We feel all through the book of a gay man about town? Heaven forefend inner consciousness, such a man as Roches- that she must have been somebody, else he that she should know! And when she begins ter, and, worse still, the faultless prig.” would not have loved her-that is the great to love a man, a woman naturally explains

“I agree with you,” said I, reluctantly, artistic merit of the book. She lives, she ex- all that is not explainable in the character for I hate to agree with Orestes, he is so mas- ists, merely in the light thrown on ber by or conduct of the man she loves by throwing terful--" I agree with you that the faultless Rochester. It is as if one part of a painting over it a veil of mystery. She undoubtedly prig' is rather hard to take. I remember one lighted up another. It always reminds me thinks a great deal better of him than he de. instance in the drama-John Mildmay, whom of another great artistic feat. In Browning's serves, but that is one of the flowers of paraI always wish to murder, with his self-suffi- • My Last Duchess' the old fellow describes dise, which I trust will always linger on the cient virtue; he is not a woman's man, by his own character so unconsciously. Jane earth. Imagine how it would take down all any means." Eyre does this.”

the business of love if we thought as ill of “No,” said Orestes ; "he is simply a “Yes," said Orestes, “I see you are in

you as you deserve !" quiet, good fellow, whom you could trust and love with Rochester, like all women. I should “ Thank you,” said Orestes;

you are respect, and therefore you would not love and have given him a wide berth myself.” quite complimentary. Now, would you be adore!”

“I dare say he would have returned the so good as to describe to me the sort of man "Well, the point of all argument is, that compliment. But you abuse lady-novelists. whom a woman might, could, or would, or it develops ideas which otherwise would What do you think of Ernest Maltravers as should love ?" not come to the mind. I have an idea! a hero, or Kenelm Chillingly—Bulwer's he- “I don't like the subjunctive mood," said Isn't a quiet, good fellow apt to be conceited, roes ?"

I. “I like the indicative mood present tense. and is uot that the reason why we do not “I confess to liking Bulwer,” said Ores- She loves the earnest, the unaffected man, the love or adore him ? while the man of lesser tes (as if it was a great concession). “I sincere and real man, the man who does the virtue has humility, and is aware of his own think Ernest a very handsome, lovable, faulty work of the world, and who has no selfish worthlessness, and is absorbed in us, and grate- young gentleman. If I had been a young conoeit, or if he has any has the sense to ful."

lady, I should undoubtedly have worshiped conceal it. She loves the modest man, who “ There I have you !” said Orestes, tri. him. He was the conception of a young, ro- pays her a shy compliment with his eyes, and umphantly. Absorbed in us' is good! That mantic novel-writer, as Kenelm Chillingly not with his lips. She sees with a pair of is all you care for.” (Orestes is a brute.) was the more ripe and noble fruit of his ma- eyes which Nature has given her extra, know

“No, not all we care for ; but still a great turity. I consider Kenelm Chillingly the best ing her defenseless condition. She calls these deal," said I. “Do not the French call love and most natural sketch in modern fiction. eyes her instincts. She sees if he truly loves * L'égoïsme à deux ?' We are egotistic, for Godolphin is also a charming hero-manly, her and not himself.” both of us, when we are in love; and, of and attractive, and not impossible.”

“I do not find any such men in ladies' course, absorption in us is indispensable. I “And yet I know no lady-novelist who novels," said Orestes. have known one agreeable and altogether would have dared to make her men so cruel “You find plenty of them in the market. blameless person who had singularly bad for- and hard as these men were occasionally," place, with contented faces, don't you? as tune with women, because he always allowed said I, although I secretly agreed with him. if some good woman loved them ? " them to see (he could not help it) that he Orestes laughed. “But they were cruel in “ No. I never met an American with a was thinking more of himself than of them. a man's way, not in a woman's way! Look at contented face,” said Orestes. “I have met If he shut a door, it was because the draught Ouida's men; they slash around, and are im- some very good fellows, such as you describe, blew on him, not on her. If he removed a polite, and break things, and are very strong,

but I have not classed them as among wom vase of flowers, it was because he did not and terrible, and brutal, as I call it; and yet en's favorites." like the perfume; if the dust blew in at the women find them so unutterably delightful. “Perhaps you are thinking of landy-killers ; car-window and annoyed him, he shut it with. 1 I insist that, if a man should behave at a they are a class by themselves. You remem

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ber Bunyan's description of Vanity Fair, and intellectual plane as his wife; she then be. lovable men in the brothers Moore, and in remember that there is a world where the comes a comrade, a fellow - Student, not a the young doctor in ‘Villette,' another en. vain, the foolish, the credulous, and the ab. wife. If he vacates the throne, and puts her chanting novel.” surd, live avd have their being. There the on it, it is all very good, but then he assumes “Yes; I see you adore the rather brutal lady-killer exists, and ravages the country- the position which she should hold—that of and mysterious hero, as I said before. Now, side. Any woman who can be flattered, any worshiper. Some men like it, I should not.” who of modern novelists has drawn a good woman who prefers to have a little incense “No, I quite believe you; the role of wor- heroine?" said Orestes. burued under her nose, instead of having an shiper would not suit you; but cannot you “I think Edmund Yates has drawn one honest fire on her heartb, is the victim to imagine taking a great deal of comfort with a of the most interesting women in all modern this interesting creature, and perhaps Oui. wife who should be your equal in most fiction, in Harriet Routh, the heroine of Ja, who does not belong to the bigher order things ?

'Black Sheep;' a good woman, so faithful to of lady-novelists (except when she writes a “No, I should hate a woman who knew a bad man that she steals for him, forges short story like 'A Dog of Flanders'), pict. statistics, which I know better than any for him, and is his subservient tool. The ures him occasionally, but the lady-killer is thing. I should wish her to appeal to me author keeps up your respect for her through not a woman's man. There is a hero in for the number of inhabitants in Peking.” the whole novel in the most masterly man. * Middlemarch' who is intensely interesting, “Oh! oh! oh! what was it we were say. ner. Some one beautifully said of her, “She poor Lydgate, whom Rosamuud murders." ing about devotion to us, absorption in us, a is true to a higher law than the law she

“Oh, there you have me. I am forced to little wbile ago?" said I, rather triumphantly. breaks.' She was fidelity incarnate, although agree that one woman can draw a man's When Orestes is beaten in argument, or it made her go against all the laws of her picture. George Eliot can paint with brains. thinks he is going to be, he never hears being.” Lydgate's story is, without exception, the what you say; he always goes off on some “ Rather doubtful morality that,” said most terrible and the most common tragedy other topic. On this occasion he pursued his Orestes ; "if woman were not better than of the nineteenth century. Rosamund is a original train of thought, as if I had not men, and did not make them more decent, very familiar murderess. I know balf a dozen spoken. I must say I have seen other mem- more honorable, more religious, than they of her, and yet no novel-writer has found her bers of the superior sex who condescended can be without her, where would the world but this greatest of women geniuses." to this artifice.

be? Make a good woman

a partner in “Yes, the author of 'Middlemarch' and " I remember,” said Orestes, rather grandcrime, and you pull down the very founda. *Romola' certainly dives deeper than any ly, as if no one had spoken lately—“I re- tions of society.” English writer, except Shakespeare, into the member asking a lady, who was very deficient “I know that; I am not approving of intricate foldings of human nature. She is a in locality, if she remembered any thing Harriet Routh as a pattern for schools and writer of infinite ethical purity, but she makes about the topography of the Quadrilateral, families; I am only admiring the author's one profoundly sad, I think, with her hope. and what course Louis Napoleon's forces cleverness in making fidelity so beautiful less views of the fortunes of our kind. All took there. She said no—that she should that it glosses even wickedness. Now, wbich the best-meaning people come to grief in her never know any thing about the topography is the most to be admired, a good woman novels, only the poor, the bad, the common. of the course of an army, unless she were in faithful to a bad man, or—" place, swim on the topmost wave.”.

love with the chief-engineer. I thought it a You might as well quote Dr. John. " That is the mistake of great geniuses delightful and womanly speech.”

son's-frequently,” said Orestes. They are pro- “Undoubtedly you did. You would have

" . If the man who turnips cries, foundly dd ed by their superior insight. us possess no talents, no tastes, except such

Cries not when his father dies,'”. They are like the two travelers, one of whom as we derive from you. You would have us interrupted Orestes. “A good woman faithstopped half-way, and saw a peaceful valley ; ) chameleons, would you ? "

ful to a bad man? Why, a good woman is the other went higher up, and saw, with his “Yes — well-bred, well-dressed, sympa. faithful to everybody, and the badness or greater opportunity, a burning city. When thetic, and very pretty chameleons," replied goodness of the recipient makes no alterathey came home, the man who had seen tbe Orestes ; “but we are wandering from the tion in her faithfulness." most was the saddest man."

subject, and have gone from women's men “Then you approve of Harriet Routh. “George Sand has drawn some powerful to men's women. Whose heroes and heroines She was faithful in obeying a bad husband, pictures of men," I replied ; “but they are do you like and approve of—Thackeray's ? " whom she madly loved; she hated dishonFrench men, who I think are entirely dif- "No! I have never fallen in love with esty, yet she became dishonest at his bidding. ferent from Anglo-Saxon men. She has one Arthur Pendennis, Harry Esmond, or Barnes She laid on the altar of her affections, her supreme conviction, that all the relation of

Newcome. Thackeray's old men and old principles, her talents, her belief, her hope man to woman is a selfish one. She of course

women, his snobs and his villains, are de- of heaven ; and she did it deliberately and makes love supremely selfish, but even in | lightful; his young men and women of good understandingly. Is she pot the relation which a son bears to his mother society are failures. He was simply the gi- mired ?" she makes selfishness predominant, and in ant Great Heart writing philosophical trea- “ What reward did she get ?” asked the relation of husband and wife it is the

tises. I find his love-making a failure. Now Orestes. ruling motive. I believe she thinks a father I should be in love with any of Miss Brontë's “Ob, the usual one of devoted wives: he can love his daughter so much that he will heroes much sooner than with any of Tback. struck her and deserted her. The Nancy desire her happiness rather than his own, eray's. Look at Robert Gerard Moore in Sykes order of things pervades all grades of but she has a poor opinion of the sex gener- 'Shirley,' that most delicious, little-read society. I think men love women who illally."

novel! What a mixture of strength and treat them. The most devoted lovers I have “No woman had a better opportunity of tenderness ! you feel that every look of his ever seen have been those men whose wives reading the character of distinguished men was a caress, the very selfish weakness that have treated them the worst. than she bad," said Orestes ; “but she was made him offer himself to Shirley for her there has ever been so high an instance of too near them in intellectual strength to try money, while he loved Caroline, was so hu- conjugal devotedness shown by any man as them by the best of all possible meters-hat man, and as long as he did not love her-for- by one of my friends, whose wife has always of a truly womanly nature. No man loves givable!”

consistently flouted him." unreservedly and naturally a woman who is “I like that," said Orestes; that is a very " Then you think men are spaniels, and his intellectual equal."

strong piece of feminine logic! You can like being whipped, do you ? " “Now, that is one of your masterful forgive a man any thing as long as he does “No, not exactly—but I think it is one speeches,” said I.

“I have known men not love anybody but yourself! What if of the curious phases of love, and perhaps worship wives who were their intellectual su- Shirley had accepted him ?”

not inexplicable—when you remember what periors."

“That would have made it a little awk- imperfect beings we all are that affection is “So have I, that is not the question: I ward, but that never bappens in norels. somewhat stimulated by fear. said equals. No man wants to hold the same Charlotte Brontë has drawn very real and who is not entirely sure of his wife's love is

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wish that allrs-Orestes were not so obum: Has there ever been a line of demarka: tion of even ha single line the final syllable

perhaps more anxious to hii it--and the qualities, to exercise them in the most grace bers, perfect rhythm, and the purest rhyme, agitation in which certain sin lep their

ful manner? Ought a gentleman to be a as well, perhaps, as by a brief pause, at least, husbands, on this point, isoleren a whole loyal son, a true husband, and honest father ? at the end of each line. This, in my humble some freshening of the aficiona

Are we

Ought his life to be decent, his bills to be judgment, combined with the best words not always disposed to un'art. lue ti'at which paid, bis tastes to be high and elegant?' possible in the best order possible, embraces we are quite sure is invio ał: surroun?" Yes, we should all say; yes, I add, tbat, to the constructive elements of all true poetry ;

“I do not think I should ir „d bring very be loved by woman, he should be liberal, while I am almost convinced, besides, that sure and quite tranquil aim't Mrs. Orestes,” candid, and attentive to his wife in the small the absence of any one of these characterissaid my opponent. “I think I should prefer courtesies, as well as in the recoguized duties tics is fatal to it in its highest and most arto be agitated about s let 103 lie." of protecting her, and providing for her sup- tistic acceptation.

“Of course you would you would be portó the honorable maintenance of a gentle- This view of the subject will, of course, glad to have Mrs. Oreste3 ( on setting easy- woman,' as the fine old English phrase has it. be considered heterodox, if not barbarous, by chairs for you before th tre, and having Then he should allow her ber own opinions, certain classics. It is, however, of Englislı footstools placed in colanin attitudes; let her lead her own life, as much as he leads poetry I am speaking; and here I may oband good dinners forear ang on, in sol. his, remembering that she is to be account- serve that its erliest two great mastersemn procession, wbich 1., Orestes should able on the last great day for her talents, and Chaucer and Spenser-seem to have enterorder; and you would like to indeve the gro- the use she has made of them, as he is; and tained this idea rigidly. We have but to cer's book properly balanced, and Mrs. O., in that, if sbe does not have the liberty to lead turn to the “Canterbury Tales " and the a very becoming toilet which should cost her own life her own way, she must become a “Faerie Queene" to satisfy ourselves on this you nothing, always in a very good-humor to gnarled, distorted, and ugly tree, like that point; for, considering the period at which receive you, and to put up with you when famous one which Bulwer described, which these poems were written, they are wondrous you were stupid, be quiet when you were grew out of a tombstone in England.” examples of correct metre, smooth rhythm, and sleepy, not wish to go out when you did not Well, you have ended with a lively im- tuneful rhyme. Nay, more—if we had, at the -in all respects, that well-bred chameleon age," said Orestes. “I do not think I have present day, a true knowledge of the pronunwhom you described, and you would take all ever met Mr. Ignatius, if he is the gentleman ciation of the language at the time they were this, as you do the sunshine, without any you have been describing. I fear he is a composed, we should, doubtless, be able to disparticular gratitude, or inquiring if Mrs. woman's man,' and therefore impossible!” cover in them quite sufficient, in the way of Orestes had not some tastes and acquire- “I have been more fortunate, then, than rhyme and the harmony of numbers, to throw ments which you did not meet, and, although you, for I have met him."

many a modern epic into the shade. Be this as you might like her very much, and abstractly

M. E. W. S. it may, what is now of great importance to my consider her as a very comfortable and rather

argument is, that neither the father of English agreeable adjunct to your high- and mighti- | ENGLISH POETRY VERSUS poetry nor his illustrious successor has, so ness, I think she would ultimately bore you ;

far as I am aware, established any precedent and you would sigh for the genius, sparkle,


for the admission into poetry of imperfect and eccentricity, of Mrs. Ignatius-you would

rhythm or faulty rhymes, or for the introduc

AS ; fact, your would need an tion,

which does impetus, a little agitation," said I, rather out ble, drawn between poetry and prose? Is it monionsly with that of some other line. In of breath.

difficult to discriminate between the flower. fact, both these authors seem to have ac“Yes," said Orestes, musingly (he is an ing shrubs that we sometimes meet on the cepted Cicero's idea of poetry rather than old bachelor), “I wish she would come along! | uplands of prose, and the clustering sprays that reëchoed subsequently by Dryden or . That picture of yours about the easy-chair that, heavy with buds and blossoms, flush Coleridge, and to have been impressed with and the footstool is rather pleasing. I think the fragrant slopes of Helicon ?

the conviction that poetry is not as to esI like it better than your literary opinions. Notwithstanding that Coleridge's defini. sence but as to structure only. Couldn't you go on and describe Mrs. Orestes tion of prose and poetry is suggestive, it does As all ideas possible to the understandmore? Would she have a pleasant voice, not seem to me to be either satisfactorily ing can be presented with greater ease and and read aloud to me, and would she always explicit or thoroughly correct. Prose, he amplitude in prose than in numbers charagree with me in my opinions, and never have


“is words in their best order," and acterized by perfect rhyme and rhythm, it is any flights about Charlotte Brontë's heroes poetry " the best words in the best order." quite apparent to me that poetry is depend(whom I fear I do not resemble) ? and could The relationship between these expositions is ing upon the latter for its very existence. she not combine with all this 'the genius, so close that one fails to apprehend readily And here, precisely, is where a grave diffisparkle, and eccentricity, of Mrs. Ignatius ? ' the distinction intended; and especially as it culty obtains. The imagination may be

“I sincerely hope she will not-or, as is difficult to accept the inference that prose, flushed with all the colors of the rainbow, you like the subjunctive mood, I hope she in its most educated aspect, can be other and the tongue may break forth in raptures either might, could, would, or should not do than “ the best words in the best order," or the most sublime, but, in the absence of any of these things."

that poetry is nothing more than is embodied metrical numbers and perfect rhymes, it is “Now, do you not see,” said Orestes, who in this mere rhetorical idea. In truth, this all to no purpose, so far as true poetry is is maddening, sometimes, " that you have definition of poetry applies properly to prose concerned. Here, as in music, a defective agreed with me throughout-that you have only, for the obvious reason that prose is ear is fatal; for, notwithstanding that the admired all the brutal heroes, and that you less restricted in the choice of words and argument and sense may be comprehended have made these muscular gentry triumphant terms than poetry, as the latter, because of thoroughly, there is lost to the appreciation in bringing out women's virtues? The hus- the inexorable exactions of rhythm, measure, that delightful harmony – that mysterious band of Harriet Routh made her what she or rhyme, is not only constantly obliged to and exquisite something which is “the blos. was. I, whom you evidently consider a hero, forego the best word, but to even jeopardize som and fragrance of all liuman language." make Mrs. Orestes! W bat sort of a hug. the sense of a sentence by doing violence to Poets are as thick as blackberries because band is Ignatius, who bears with the ‘gen. its proper construction, as illustrated by that some of the great masters of the art, in an ius, sparkle, and eccentricity of madame his signal failure—the last verse of Gray's “ Ele. evil hour-when the tide was out, perhapswife?"

gy, written in a Country Church-yard." have left us such faulty examples, and have "Ah! he is a model husband," said I, “a The line must be drawn somewhere; and, taken such liberties with the laws which, in pattern hero. In the first place, he is a gen. were I a ruler in the world of letters, I should my opinion, should govern it strictly, that tleman, after Thackeray's noble description: be inclined to decide that, no matter what its gates seem to have been thrown wide open "What is it to be a gentleman ? Is it to be the thesis, no literary composition should be

to all comers. Not that I presume divine in honest, to be gentle, to be generous, to be regarded as poetry that was not characterized spiration, that exceptional characteristic of brave, to be wise, and, possessing all these throughout, and strictly, by metrical num- the race, to be indispensable to the claims of

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a poet simply as such ; but what I venture to ation. But, then, the language and the ideas "Unbount - 112 remad compassion joined, believe is, that no one should be permitted subsequently are of themselves so sublime Tempel Al ter in the victor's mind,

Alternat : ;'ai l'im good and great, to enter these gates, or to commingle with the and picturesque that, dazzled with the splen

And Ltd, Claro atid the mau complete." true brotherhood within, who is not possessed dor and purity of the ore, and the massive

Although their hm here is sufficiently of the signs, tokens, and passwords, of the ness of the ingots, we forget to subject them These should be exacted by the tylers

smooth. art.

pr ringe. i wr keep our eye on " temto any formula, and accept them as present. of æsthetics in the very first instance, what- ing all the requisites of true poetry.

pering,'' ili the rhvines are faulty-unless, ever the candidate's status in other relations Another step in the right direction, and

indeed, it wis i bonded by the author that may turn out to be subsequently. I am, one in advance of what is termed "blank

the first two imes should be read by a rural however, quite well aware that the mere con. verse," is to be found in those compositions

Yankee, and the other two by an Irishman, structer of verses, who is a stranger to di- where we meet, in a stanza of four metrical vine inspiration, can never attain to any ex- lines, two that rhyme perfectly with each

“ Unbounded conra ze and compassion j'ined, alted position in the art. The edifice he other - the second and last- and two that

Tempering each other in the victor's mind,

Alternately proclaim him good and great, builds, if even symmetrical in the highest do not rhyme in even the slightest degree- And make the hero and the man complate." degree, will be wanting in beauty and excel. the first and second - as in the following

As, however, “great” was formerly prolence of material—will be deficient in grand- example, from Tennyson :

nounced "greet” by no inconsiderable numeur and originality of design, as well as in " The rain had fallen, the poet arose,

ber of educated persons, we can perhaps dis. all those magnificent effects that so charm And passed by the town and out of the street;

pense with the Irishman here. But this the and captivate the sense. No one would think A light wind blew from the gates of the sun,

And waves of sbadow went over the wheat."

ingenious reader must decide for himself. of instituting a comparison between the Capi. tol at Washington and one of the small, sub

This quatrain, if such it may be termed,

Without pausing to examine examples.

marred by false numbers or rhythm only, I stantial structures on Blackwell's Island. And is embarrassed with two wooden legs. Here

shall cite one more illustration, as a very near yet both are built upon the same fundamen- we have prose and poetry intermingled, and

approach to true poetry, without having attal principles, and in accordance with some the beauty and homogeneity of the verse of the strictest rules of mechanical art.

tained the climax. The lines are from By. In marred consequently. How much more harthe unpretending

ron, and will, of course, be recognized every. “ little church round the monious and finished would it bave been,

where : corner," and the haughty St. Peter's at Rome,

had the author thought proper to have so we find alike the rhyme and the rhythm, so shaped the sense that the third line of the

“ The sky is changed I and such a change! O night,

And storm and darkness ! ye are wondrous to speak, that constitute architecture per se stanza read thus :

strong, - that is, in its aspect of design or form. So “ From the gates of the sun a light wind blows ! And lovely in your strength, as is the light that any one who constructs a single stanza

of a dark eye in woman! Far along, But Tennyson has never been able to shake

From peak to peak, the rattling crags among, upon the basis already laid down, is, it would

out all his canvas in rhyme. Whenever we Leaps the live thunder,” etc. seem, entitled as fully to the name poet as

encounter him in this latitude we find bim Byron or Tennyson, although the composi

Here we find the quantities, the rhythm, almost invariably under close-reefed topsails tion, intrinsically, may not be worth a single

and the rhyme, almost perfect; but the lines or struggling on a lee-shore. He is at home straw, or of no more value than the follow.

are so incomplete and disjointed in themonly in blauk-verse, with its immeasurable ing four lines from Wordsworth's “She was a

selves individually, that we at once reject stretch of sea-room. Here there is neither Phantom of Delight: ”

them as tricky, or utterly unworthy the the Scylla of rhyme, nor the Charybdis that

sublime language and ideas they embody. " The reason firm, the temperate will,

restricts the choice of words, to beset his Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;

Again, among” does not rhyme perfectcourse; and here, consequently, he is at ease, A perfect woman, nobly planned,

ly with “along ;” while, in verification of To warn, to comfort, and command.” with his hand laid cirelessly on the helm, and

what I have already observed, it is, through the wind always blowing a pleasant gale aft. Although the idea here is impoverished and

the exactions of the rhyme, forced out of its

There are, however, persons of the most rendereit commonplace through the wretch

natural position in the line — although the edly circumstantial manner in which it is exquisite taste and judgment, whose ear

example it affords is perhaps the least strikwearies of a constant succession of rhymes, ing of its class. Read the whole passage as treated, the lines are properly constructed; for, with the exception of the word “temand who enjoy those delicious sandwiches

forid and picturesque prose, as it ought to which are supplied so bountifully by the perate,” which must be squeezed into two

be read, and as its construction demands pe. syllables to satisfy the rhythm, they are, in poets of the present day, as well as by those

remptorily, and we shall be able to apprea mechanical sense, perfect throughout-tbat who have gone to their reward, whatever that

hend fully the strength and beauty of which may be. Let it be so. But shall we pot call is, as a body without a soul. Here, however,

it has been shorn by an attempt to warp the I shall fall back a few paces, and present, things by the names proper to them ? Is the

lines into a shape utterly foreign to them. what I regard as an example of the first ap

following verse of a song written, on a most Let us see: proach toward the realization of tbis ideal suggestive subject, “Spring,” by the distin.

“The sky is changed ! and such a change! 0 English poetry of mine. The illustration is guished author just mentioned, even tolerable

night and storms and darkness ! ye are wondrous from Milton's " Paradise Lost," and the very poetry ?

strong, yet lovely in your strength as the light of a " Birds' love and birds' song

dark eye in woman! Far along, from peak to opening lines of that magnificent produce

Flying here and there ;

peak, among the rattling crags leaps the live thanBirds' song and birds' love,

der," etc. “Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit

And you with golden hair! Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste

Birds' song and birds' love,

We can now perceive how detrimental to Brought death into the world, and all our woe,

Passing with the weather;

the true structure of poetry is the absence of With loss of Eden, till one greater Man

Men's song and men's love,

even one of the characteristics I have menRestore us, and regain the blissful seat,

To love once and forever."

tioned-although that one might be considSing, heavenly Muse," etc.

It seems to me that, musically speaking, ered the most unimportant. The truth is, after Who could, for a moment, suppose that Tennyson has a defective ear-that, like those the manner of the three primary colors in a so great a mass of splendor burned behind who are at bome in blank-verse oply, he sees pencil of white light, rhyme, rhythm, and this blind wall? for here there is nothing to and feels all, but hears nothing. Hence the numbers combined, are the architecture of be dignified with the name of poetry. True, failure of his lyrical efforts, and the certain- poetry; and hence the absence of any one of toe lines are metrical, but they are not so in ty of his living in his florid, metrical prose these elements is, I am of the belief, fatal to a highly-artistic sense, inasmuch as the first alone.

the whole fabric. of them virtually ends in the middle of the The next and a still nearer approach to And here I shall venture to state that, second with the word “ tree," while the fourth the perfectly-conceived structure than any of possibly from the year 1180, when the gray should obviously stretch into the fifth as far the illustrations just given, is to be found in dawn of the English language first became as the word “us." And so it is all the way the following extract from Addison's “ Cam- perceptible, to the time of Milton, no writer through with this ornate and fascinating cre- | paign:"

in that tongue ever thought of presenting to

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