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December & 1855 , ] T H E L E A D E R . HS 3
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To the breathless fellow at the altar-foot , Fresh from Mb murder , safe and sitting there " With the little children round him in a row Of admiration , half for his beard and half For that white anger of his victim ' s son Shaking a fist at him with one fierce arm , Signing himself with the other because of Christ ( Whose sad face on the cross sees only this After the passion of a thousand years ) Till some poor girl , her apron o'er her head „ "Which the intense eyes looked through , came at eve On tip-toe , said a word , dropped in a loaf , Her pair of ear-rings and a bunch of flowers The brute took growling , prayed , and then was gone . I painted all , then cried "' Tis ask and have—Choose , for more ' s ready ! "—laid the ladder flat , And showed my covered bit of cloister-wall . The monks closed in a circle and praised loud Till checked ( taught what to see and not to see , Being simple bodies ) , " that ' s the very man , ' Look at the boy who stoops to pat the dog ! That woman ' s like the Prior ' s niece who comes To care about his asthma : it' 3 the life ! " ; But there my triump h ' s straw-fire flared and funked — Their betters took their turn to sec and say : The Prior and the learned pulled a fnce And stopped all that in no time . " How ? what's here ? Quite from the mark of painting , bless us all ! Faces * , arms , legs and bodies like the true As much as pea and pea ! it's devil ' s-garne ! Your business is not to catch men with show , With homage to the perishable clay , But lift them over it , ignore it all , Make them forget there ' s such , a thing as flesh . Your business is to paint the souls of men—Man ' s soul , and it ' s a fire , smoke . . no it ' s not . . It ' s vapour done up like a new-born babe —• ( In that shape when you die it leaves your mouth ) It ' s . . well , what matters tal -ing , it ' s the soul ! Give us no more of body than shows soul . Hero ' s Giotto , with his Saint a-praising God ! That sets yon praising—why not stop with him ? Why put all thoughts of uraise out of our heads With wonder at lines , colours , and what not ? Paint the soul , never mind the legs and arms ! Rub all out , try at it a second time . Oh , that white smallish female with the breasts , She ' s just my niece . . Herodiaa , I would say , — Who went and danced and got men ' s heads cut off—Have it all out ? " Now , is th :, s sense , I ask ? A fine way to p ; iint soul , by painting body-So ill , the eye can't stop there , must go further And can ' t faro worfie ! Thus , yellow does for white When what you put for yellow ' s simply black , And anv sort of meaning looks intense When sill beside itself means and looks nought . Why can't a painter lift each foot in turn , Left foot and right foot , go a double step , Make his flesh liker and his nouI more like , Both in their order ! Tuko the prettiest face , The prior ' s niece . . patron-saint—is it so pretty You can't discover if it means , hope , fear , Sorrow or joy ? won't beauty go with these ' ( Suppose I ' ve made her eyes all right and blue , Can't I take breath and try to add life ' s flash , And then add soul and heighten them threefold ? Or say there ' s bounty with no soul at all—( I never saw it—put the case the same —) If you get simple beauty and nought else , You get about tho bost thing God invents—That ' s somewhat . In the argumentative style , there is that strange , sarcastic , puzzling , because dramatic poem , called " Bishop Blougram ' B Apology ; " and charming it is to turn from such dramatic goings out of himself , to the direct and beautiful expression ofhis love for his wife , which smiles with deep and quiet tenderness hi many a page . In the following passage , for example , how true and pretty is the nllusicn to his wife ' s poetical fame , and his delight in it . ( We must premise , that the phrase , " My moon of poets , " is an allusion to something which has been said in an earlier passage of the poem ) — God bo thanked , tho incano » t of bin creatures Bourita two Boul-sidoH ; 0110 to fuco tho world with , Oiiq to show a woman when ho loves her . This I Hay of mo , but think of you , Love ! Thin to you yoursolf , my moon of poots ! Ah , but thal / n tho world ' s Hide- —thero ' n tho wonder — Thus they huo you , prniso you , think they know you . Thoro , in turn I ntand with them and proiho you , Out of my own nolf , I dnro to phniHO it . But tho b ' oHt ifl when T glide from out them , Crows a Htop or two of dtibiouH twilight , O 01110 out on tho othor Hide , U 10 novel Silent silvor lightH and darks undreamed of , Whoro I hufih and blow j mywolf with Hilenco . This does not , of course , read so well in extract as it , docs in its own place ; but that is tho inconvenience attending newspaper criticism ; one can only give " specimen bricks , " which nrc not true Hp « ciincng . The best parts of these volumes are beyond quotation limits . To conehwle , we will give another story in two short poems— " Before" and " After " : — HKl'OUK . Lot thorn fight it out , friend ! thing * havn « ono too far . God muHt judge tho couple I lwvvo thoin m they ar « — Whiohavor ono'w tho guiltleus , to bin glory , And whiohovor one tho guilt ' h with , to my utory .
Why , you would not bid men , sunk in such a slough , Strike no arm out further , stick and stink as now , Leaving right and " wrong to settle the embroilment , Heaven with snaky Hell , in . torture and entdilment ? Which of them ' s the culprit , how must he conceive God's the qtieen he caps to , laughing in his sleeve ? 'Tis but decent to profess oneself beneath her . Still one must not be too much in earnest either . Better sin the whole sin , sure that God observes , Then go live his life out ! life will try his nerves , When the sky which noticed all , makes no disclosure . And the earth keeps up her terrible composure . Let him pace at pleasure , past the walls of rose , Pluck their fruits when grape-ti'ees graze him as he goes . For he ' gins to guess the purpose of the garden , With the sly mute thing beside there for a warden . What ' s the leopard-dog thing , constant to his side , A leer and lie in , every eye on its obsequious hide 'I When will come an end of all the mock obeisance , And the price appear that pays for the misfeasance ? Ho . much for the culprit . Who ' s the martyred man ? Let him bear one stroke naoro , for be sure he can . He that strove thus evil's lump with good to leaven , Let him give his blood at last aud get bis heaven . All or nothing , stake it ! trusts he God or no ? Thus far and no farther ? farther ' < be it so . Now , enough of your chicane of -prudent pauses , Sage provisos , sub-intents , and saving-clauses . j Ah , " forgive" you bid him ? While God ' s champion lives , Wrong shall be resisted : dead , why he forgiveB . Bu' you must not end my friend ere you beg in him ; Evil stands not crowned 011 earth , while breath is in him . Once more—Will the wronger , at this last of all , j Dare to say " I did wrong , " rising in his fall ? ! No ?—Let go then—both the fighters to their places—While I count three , step you back as many paces . AFTER . Take the cloak from his face , and atfirnt I Let the corpse do its worst . How lie lies in his rights of a man ! Death has done all death can . And absorbed in the now lifo he leads He recks not , he heeds . Nor his wrong nor my vengeance—both strike On his senses alike , I And are lost in the solemn and Btrangc I Surprise of the change . Ha , what avail death to erase His oflenco , my disgrace ' > . I would we were boys jih of old In the field , by the fold — His outrage , God ' s patience , m . an ' n scorn Were so easily borne . 1 stand hero now , ho lion in bin place—Cover the facu . If these specimens send the reader to the volumes they have fulfilled their purpose .
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PICTUIIKS OF CUBA . Pictures of C-uhu . By William II . Hurlbut . Longman . There is no country in the world that is more lovely than Cuba ; it is as beautiful as Polynesia , only , from its extent , it presents a greater variety than any of the islands of the mid Pacific It has mountains large enough to vary the horizon , and the rich tropical foliage clothes the whole island in beauty . The summer , although oppressive , has not the fierce intensity or continental summers ; the winter is no winter at nil , but only " a summer ot serene delight . " In a fertile hind , such a climate necessarily contributes greatly to the enjoyment of existence ; the air is full ol a soft delicious warmth , which renders life itself a pleasure , and the skies arc the most beautiful in the world . The moon shines placid and pure 111 tlie most spotless clouds ; and so steadfast is the climate , that it may be trusted like a trie * friend . It seldom happens that a land and atmosphere so delicious iail » to enervate the residents , mid we might have expected to find Cubn the lounging place of America , even if Spanish institutions had not come into render the enervation and corruption more complete , and , in fact , to make corruption out-do itself . Life in Cuba , » s it is described by one of the latest viaitnnts , Mr Hurlbut , is about midway between that of Naples and Tans . Ihe very inn of Havana is a Moorish palace , and you might count upon enjoying existence , with all its best accessories , if it were not for tho people . 1 he interior of this Moorish palace combines the discomforts ot a Ocrman boarding-house , with the cxpensiveness of a Bond-street hotel . A ^ ' / -j ™ * to oneself is 11 luxury almost unknown , and the traveller spuiuls the ' ' « " dreadful proximity to a companion whom he has not always the "PI "'' " " * of choosing . The social routine of the people is of an easy and »» ""' " « s ent but under gr ievous restraints . Numberless are the things " ^ Mc WiUMt in Cuba n ? u * t « ot do . or it would compromise h , n with t , 0 a f ™*^^ may talk if he is very sure oi his companions ; but tveu 1 . , niat | UJK has its risks . There is , indeed , plenty of ,.. « r « vti ? f * y-J U ^?™ S $ work in the K reen environs ; there is lile uml nt . r on the Mig ' ^ !^ * ' ™ is the free b . iU-n ht i » tho Pluwi « l « Toros 5 there ., ie ^ ^ ' 3 railway adds fervour and speed to tj <« .- ^ "X ^ ' , t hui » lUry But there is a . lark side to the . rig J . t «« ^ o «« . as wo have recently in Culm exists m its inoat »«» ' \ " S ., « c 1 « « »« . »« t of enjoyment rarely
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Citation
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Leader (1850-1860), Dec. 8, 1855, page 1183, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/l/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2118/page/19/
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