Life — July 16, 1896 — page 9: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

which we take the following gems of criticism : “We must go back to Goethe, Lessing and Hegel if we would discover any piece of criticism so novel, of such far-reaching im- portance, so moderate, so simple, so con- clusive—in a word, so great.” “There is, however, a sphere of contem- Plative wisdom into which even Lord Bacon never attempted to soar, but in which Mrs. Meynell moves at an altitude and with a freedom, for the like of which, at all events an any female writer, we must go back to Mme. De Guyon, etc." There is nothing mean about Mr. Patmore when he sets out to make it pleasant for a ‘lady essayist.” Hemay have some reserves about Goethe and Bacon but none about Mrs. Meynell. Her place in the empyrean of genius has been secured for her, once for all, and itis right up front—a little bit ahead of Lord Bacon! -LIFE: of essays ‘‘ The Rhythm of Life” (Cope- land & Day), she says of Mr. Coventry Patmore’s Odes : “Tt is mortal pathos. If any other poet has filled a cup with a draught so unalloyed, we do not know it.” “A more touching sweetness of simple and frequent rhyme, a truer impetus of pulse and impulse, English verse could hardly yield than are to be found in his versification.” “Even in his slightest work he proves him- self the master—that is, the owner of words that, owned by him, are unprofaned, are as though they had never been profaned; the capturer of an art so quick and close that it is the voice less of a poet than of the very muse.” So far as a layman can judge, who is not on intimate terms with either Bacon or the Muse, honors are about even in this exchange of modest compliments. What fun the Saturday Review would have with two American writers who ~. ‘*Goop HEAVENS! I WONDER IF HE THOUGHT EON should solemnly attempt a similar ex- wA change of appreciation ! \ * There is nodoubt that Mrs. Meynell has done her best to earn this place, for in her book I WAS MARRIED ?"” some of the horrors set forth: Three chapters of about fifty pages are devoted to getting to the dike shanty on the coast of Massachusetts; one chapter narrates the mowing of the dike by a regulation horse and machine; the next describes the upsetting of a pan of pea-pods by a Yorkshire terrier; two more are occupied with a hair-raising account of making “*bumonge” (d/anc-mange) ; and the thrilling narrative is brought to a dra- matic conclusion with the concoction of **a coot stew.” HERE is a class of nervous readers who are morally afraid of being enticed into perusing anexciting book. We wish to warn such sensitive souls against ‘In a Dike Shanty " (Harpers), by Maria Louise Pool. Following are a “& T'Lt just BREAK—— \ WHAT'S IN A NAME?, N all the ups and downs Of life, It is nearly always true That Mr. White is a colored man, And Mr. Green is blue. And Mr. Black is as white as milk, And Mr. Brown is red ; And Cotton deals in velvet and silk, While Silvermann handles lead. Goldman has the silver craze, A tramp and a beggar is King; And P * handled shears, * sing. aoh’s kine, stitch 5 arth, “s Rich. YOUR BLooMINc— Butcher and Baker, they run a farm, And Farmer, he runs a school; And Long's accounts are‘always short, And Smart is a blessed fool. And I sigh a sigh about four by six As I scan men batch by batch, And wonder how often a man and his name Are a regular Jersey match. Harvey Reese. AMMA; Itlisyso»hard__- to give up Grace! A: Never mind, dear, 't be for long. — All of these blood-curdling epi- sodes are'portrayed in the classical dialect of New England, which for more than a generation has been the ample and flexible medium for ad- ventures as thrilling as these. Why should our romantic novelists devote their powers to battles t..tt never were fought when similar‘. incidents are ready at hand? Droch,