letters on literature-第16部分

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and　there　among　the　boughs；　as　in　that　feast　of　Adonis　which

Ptolemy's　sister　gave　in　Alexandria；　or　as　in　Eisen's　vignettes　for

Dorat's　Baisers：





〃Ask　me　no　more　whither　do　stray

The　golden　atoms　of　the　day；

For　in　pure　love　did　Heaven　prepare

These　powders　to　enrich　your　hair。〃





It　would　be　affectation；　Gifted；　if　you　rhymed　in　that　fashion　for

the　lady　of　your　love；　and　presented　her；　as　it　were；　with　cosmical

cosmetics；　and　compliments　drawn　from　the　starry　spaces　and　deserts；

from　skies；　phoenixes；　and　angels。　　But　it　was　a　natural　and　pretty

way　of　writing　when　Thomas　Carew　was　young。　　I　prefer　Herrick　the

inexhaustible　in　dainties；　Herrick；　that　parson…pagan；　with　the　soul

of　a　Greek　of　the　Anthology；　and　a　cure　of　souls　（Heaven　help　them！）

in　Devonshire。　　His　Julia　is　the　least　mortal　of　these　〃daughters　of

dreams　and　of　stories；〃　whom　poets　celebrate；　she　has　a　certain

opulence　of　flesh　and　blood；　a　cheek　like　a　damask　rose；　and　〃rich

eyes；〃　like　Keats's　lady；　no　vaporous　Beatrice；　she；　but　a　handsome

English　wench；　with





〃A　cuff　neglectful　and　thereby

Ribbons　to　flow　confusedly；

A　winning　wave；　deserving　note

In　the　tempestuous　petticoat。〃





Then　Suckling　strikes　up　a　reckless　military　air；　a　warrior　he　is

who　has　seen　many　a　siege　of　heartshearts　that　capitulated；　or

held　out　like　Troy…town；　and　the　impatient　assailant　whistles：





〃Quit；　quit；　for　shame：　　this　will　not　move；

This　cannot　take　her。

If　of　herself　she　will　not　love；

Nothing　can　make　her　…

The　devil　take　her。〃





So　he　rides　away；　curling　his　moustache；　hiding　his　defeat　in　a　big

inimitable　swagger。　　It　is　a　pleasanter　piece　in　which　Suckling；

after　a　long　leaguer　of　a　lady's　heart；　finds　that　Captain　honour　is

governor　of　the　place；　and　surrender　hopeless。　　So　he　departs　with　a

salute：





〃March；　march　（quoth　I）；　the　word　straight　give；

Let's　lose　no　time　but　leave　her：

That　giant　upon　air　will　live；

And　hold　it　out　for　ever。〃





Lovelace　is　even　a　better　type　in　his　rare　good　things　of　the

military　amorist　and　poet。　　What　apology　of　Lauzun's；　or　Bussy

Rabutin's　for　faithlessness　could　equal　this？　…





〃Why　dost　thou　say　I　am　forsworn；

Since　thine　I　vowed　to　be？

Lady；　it　is　already　morn；

It　was　last　night　I　swore　to　thee

That　fond　impossibility。〃





Has　〃In　Memoriam〃　nobler　numbers　than　the　poem；　from　exile；　to

Lucasta？　…





〃Our　Faith　and　troth

All　time　and　space　controls；

Above　the　highest　sphere　we　meet；

Unseen；　unknown；　and　greet　as　angels　greet。〃





How　comes　it　that　in　the　fierce　fighting　days　the　soldiers　were　so

tuneful；　and　such　scholars？　　In　the　first　edition　of　Lovelace's

〃Lucasta〃　there　is　a　flock　of　recommendatory　verses；　English；　Latin；

even　Greek；　by　the　gallant　Colonel's　mess…mates　and　comrades。　　What

guardsman　now　writes　like　Lovelace；　and　how　many　of　his　friends

could　applaud　him　in　Greek？　　You；　my　Gifted；　are　happily　of　a

pacific　disposition；　and　tune　a　gentle　lyre。　　Is　it　not　lucky　for

swains　like　you　that　the　soldiers　have　quite　forsworn　sonneting？

When　a　man　was　a　rake；　a　poet；　a　warrior；　all　in　one；　what　chance

had　a　peaceful　minor　poet　like　you　or　me；　Gifted；　against　his

charms？　　Sedley；　when　sober；　must　have　been　an　invincible　rival

invincible；　above　all；　when　he　pretended　constancy：





〃Why　then　should　I　seek　further　store；

And　still　make　love　anew？

When　change　itself　can　give　no　more

'Tis　easy　to　be　true。〃





How　infinitely　more　delightful；　musical；　and　captivating　are　those

Cavalier　singerstheir　numbers　flowing　fair；　like　their　scented

lovelocksthan　the　prudish　society　poets　of　Pope's　day。　　〃The　Rape

of　the　Lock〃　is　very　witty；　but　through　it　all　don't　you　mark　the

sneer　of　the　contemptuous；　unmanly　little　wit；　the　crooked　dandy？

He　jibes　among　his　compliments；　and　I　do　not　wonder　that　Mistress

Arabella　Fermor　was　not　conciliated　by　his　long…drawn　cleverness　and

polished　lines。　　I　prefer　Sackville's　verses　〃written　at　sea　the

night　before　an　engagement〃：





〃To　all　you　ladies　now　on　land

We　men　at　sea　indite。〃





They　are　all　alike；　the　wits　of　Queen　Anne；　and　even　Matt　Prior；

when　he　writes　of　ladies　occasionally；　writes　down　to　them；　or　at

least　glances　up　very　saucily　from　his　position　on　his　knees。　　But

Prior　is　the　best　of　them；　and　the　most　candid：





〃I　court　others　in　versebut　I　love　thee　in　prose；

And　they　have　my　whimsies；　but　thou　hast　my　heart。〃





Yes；　Prior　is　probably　the　greatest　of　all　who　dally　with　the　light

lyre　which　thrills　to　the　wings　of　fleeting　Lovesthe　greatest

English　writer　of　vers　de　societe；　the　most　gay；　frank；　good…

humoured；　tuneful　and　engaging。



Landor　is　great；　too；　but　in　another　kind；　the　bees　that　hummed　over

Plato's　cradle　have　left　their　honey　on　his　lips；　none　but　Landor；

or　a　Greek；　could　have　written　this　on　Catullus：





〃Tell　me　not　what　too　well　I　know

About　the　Bard　of　Sirmio　…

Yes；　in　Thalia's　son

Such　stains　there　are　as　when　a　Grace

Sprinkles　another's　laughing　face

With　nectar；　and　runs　on！〃





That　is　poetry　deserving　of　a　place　among　the　rarest　things　in　the

Anthology。　　It　is　a　sorrow　to　me　that　I　cannot　quite　place　Praed

with　Prior　in　my　affections。　　With　all　his　gaiety　and　wit；　he

wearies　one　at　last　with　that　clever；　punning　antithesis。　　I　don't

want　to　know　how





〃Captain　Hazard　wins　a　bet；

Or　Beaulieu　spoils　a　curry〃　…





and　I　prefer　his　sombre　〃Red　Fisherman；〃　the　idea　of　which　is

borrowed；　wittingly　or　unwittingly；　from　Lucian。



Thackeray；　too　careless　in　his　measures；　yet　comes　nearer　Prior　in

breadth　of　humour　and　in　unaffected　tenderness。　　Who　can　equal　that

song；　〃Once　you　come　to　Forty　Year；〃　or　the　lines　on　the　Venice

Love…lamp；　or　the　〃Cane…bottomed　Chair〃？　　Of　living　English　writers

of　verse　in　the　〃familiar　style；〃　as　Cowper　has　it；　I　prefer　Mr。

Locker　when　he　is　tender　and　not　untouched　with　melancholy；　as　in

〃The　Portrait　of　a　Lady；〃　and　Mr。　Austin　Dobson；　when　he　is　not

flirting；　but　in　earnest；　as　in　the　〃Song　of　Four　Seasons〃　and　〃The

Dead　Letter。〃　　He　has　ingenuity；　pathos；　mastery　of　his　art；　and；

though　the　least　pedantic　of　poets；　is　〃conveniently　learned。〃



Of　contemporary　Americans；　if　I　may　be　frank；　I　prefer　the　verse　of

Mr。　Bret　Harte；　verse　with　so　many　tunes　and　turns；　as　comic　as　the

〃Heathen　Chinee；〃　as　tender　as　the　lay　of　the　ship　with　its　crew　of

children　that　slipped　its　moorings　in　the　fog。　　To　me　it　seems　that

Mr。　Bret　Harte's　poems　have　never　（at　least　in　this　country）　been

sufficiently　esteemed。　　Mr。　Lowell　has　written　（〃The　Biglow　Papers〃

apart）　but　little　in　this　vein。　　Mr。　Wendell　Holmes；　your　delightful

godfather；　Gifted；　has　written　much　with　perhaps　some　loss　from　the

very　quantity。　　A　little　of　vers　de　societe；　my　dear　Gifted；　goes　a

long　way；　as　you　will　think；　if　ever　you　sit　down　steadily　to　read

right　through　any　collection　of　poems　in　this　manner。　　So　do　not　add

too　rapidly　to　your　own　store；　let　them　be　〃few；　but　roses〃　all　of

them。










ON　BOOKS　ABOUT　RED　MEN







To　Richard　Wilby；　Esq。；　Eton　College；　Windsor。



My　Dear　Dick；It　is　very　good　of　you；　among　your　severe　studies　at

Eton；　to　write　to　your　Uncle。　　I　am　extremely　pleased　to　hear　that

your　football　is　appreciated　in　the　highest　circles；　and　shall　be

happy　to　have　as　good　an　account　of　your　skill　in　making　Latin

verses。



I　am　glad　you　like　〃She；〃　Mr。　Rider　Haggard's　book　which　I　sent　you。

It　is　〃something　like；〃　as　you　say；　and　I　quite　agree　with　you；　both

in　being　in　love　with　the　heroine；　and　in　thinking　that　she　preaches

rather　too　much。　　But；　then；　as　she　was　over　two　thousand　years　old；

and　had　lived　for　most　of　that　time　among　cannibals；　who　did　not

understand　her；　one　may　excuse　her　for　〃jawing；〃　as　you　say；　a　good

deal；　when　she　met　white　men。　　You　want　to　know　if　〃She〃　is　a　true

story。　　Of　course　it　is！



But　you　have　read　〃She；〃　and　you　have　read　all　Cooper's；　and

Marryat's；　and　Mr。　Stevenson's　books；　and　〃Tom　Sawyer；〃　and

〃Huckleberry　Finn；〃　several　times。　　So　have　I；　and　am　quite　ready　to

begin　again。　　But；　to　my　mind；　books　about　〃Red　Indians〃　have　always

seemed　much　the　most　interesting。　　At　your　age；　I　remember；　I　bought

a　tomahawk；　and；　as　we　had　also　lots　of　spears　and　boomerangs　from

Australia；　the　poultry　used　to　have　rather　a　rough　time　of　it。



I　never　could　do　very　much　with　a　boomerang；　but　I　could　throw　a

spear　to　a　hair's　breadth；　as　many　a　chicken　had　occasion　to

discover。　　When　you　go　home　for　Christmas　I　hope　you　will　remember

that　all　this　was　very　wrong；　and　that　you　will　consider　we　are

civilized　people；　not　Mohicans；　nor　Pawnees。　　I　also　made　a　stone

pipe；　like　Hiawatha's；　but　I　never　could　drill　a　hole　in　the　stem；

so　it　did　not　〃draw〃　like　a　civilized　pipe。



By　way　of　an　awful　warning　to　you　on　this　score；