if the brow be insincere, if in the minutest particular the
physical beauty
suggest a moral ugliness, that
sculptor -- unless he be portraying
a moral ugliness for a moral purpose -- may as well give over his marble
for paving-stones. Time, whose judgments are inexorably moral, will not
accept his work. For indeed we may say that he who has not yet perceived
how
artistic beauty and moral beauty are convergent lines which run back
into a common ideal
origin, and who
therefore is not afire
with moral beauty just as with
artistic beauty -- that he, in short,
who has not come to that stage of quiet and
eternal frenzy
in which the beauty of
holiness and the
holiness of beauty mean one thing,
burn as one fire, shine as one light, within him; he is not yet
the great artist."* By
copious quotations Lanier then shows
that "many fine and beautiful souls appear after a while
to lose all sense of
distinction between these terms, Beauty, Truth, Love,
Wisdom, Goodness, and the like," and concludes thus: "And if this be true,
cannot one say with authority to the young artist, -- whether working
in stone, in color, in tones, or in character-forms of the novel:
so far from dreading that your moral purpose will interfere
with your beautiful
creation, go forward in the clear conviction
that unless you are suffused -- soul and body, one might say --
with that moral purpose which finds its largest expression in love
-- that is, the love of all things in their proper relation --
unless you are suffused with this love, do not dare to
meddle with beauty;
unless you are suffused with beauty, do not
meddle with love;
unless you are suffused with truth, do not dare to
meddle with
goodness; --
in a word, unless you are suffused with beauty, truth,
wisdom,
goodness,
AND love,
abandon the hope that the ages will accept you as an artist."**
--
* `The English Novel', p. 272 f.
** `The English Novel', p. 280. Of the numerous discussions of this thesis,
the student should
consult at least those by Matthew Arnold
(`Preface' to his
edition of `Wordsworth's Poems'),
John Ruskin (`Stones of Venice', vol. iii., chap. iv.),
and Victor Hugo (`William Shakespeare', Book VI.).
--
VI. Conclusion
Milton has somewhere said that in order to be a great poet
one must himself be a true poem, a dictum none the less trustworthy
because of its inapplicability to its author along with
several other great poets. Now of all English poets,
I know of none that came nearer being a true poem than did Lanier.
He was as spotless as "the Lady of Christ's", and
infinitely more lovable.
Indeed, he seems to me to have realized the ideal of his own
knightly Horn,
who hopes that some day men will be "maids in purity".*
I will not recall his gentle yet
heroic life amid drawbacks
almost unparalleled; for it is even sadder than it is beautiful.
It is my
deliberate judgment that, while, as the poet says
in his `Life and Song', no
singer has ever
wholly lived
his minstrelsy, Lanier came so near it that we may fairly say,
in the closing lines of the poem,
"His song was only living aloud,
His work, a singing with his hand."
And, for my part, I am as
grateful for his noble private life
as for his
distinguished public work.
--
* `The Symphony', l. 302.
--
And yet I will not close with this picture of the man; for my purpose
is rather to present the poet. Hampered though he was by fewness of years,
by feebleness of body, by shortness of bread, and, most of all perhaps,
by over-luxuriance of
imagination, Lanier was yet, to my mind,
indisputably a great poet. For in
technique he was akin to Tennyson;*
in the love of beauty and in lyric
sweetness, to Keats and Shelley;
in the love of nature, to Wordsworth; and in spirituality, to Ruskin,
the gist of whose teaching is that we are souls
temporarily having bodies;
to Milton, "God-gifted organ-voice of England"; and to Browning,
"subtlest assertor of the soul in song". To be sure, Lanier's genius
is not equal to that of any one of the poets mentioned,
but I
venture to believe that it is of the same order, and,
therefore,
deserving of
lasting remembrance.
--
* Mr. Thayer puts it stronger: "As a master of melodious metre
only Tennyson, and he not often, has equalled Lanier." Mr. F. F. Browne,
Editor of `The Dial' (Chicago), compares the two poets in another aspect:
"`The Symphony' of Lanier may recall some parts of `Maud';
but the younger poet's
treatment is as much his own
as the elder's is his own. The
comparison of Lanier with Tennyson will,
indeed, only
deepen the
impression" target="_blank" title="n.印刷;印象;效果">
impression of his
originality,
which is his most
striking quality. It may be doubted
if any English poet of our time, except Tennyson, has cast his work
in an ampler mould, or
wrought with more of freedom, or stamped his product
with the
impress of a stronger
personality. His thought, his stand-point,
his expression, his form, his
treatment, are his alone; and through them all
he justifies his right to the title of poet."
--
Poems
Life and Song
If life were caught by a clarionet, [1]
And a wild heart, throbbing in the reed,
Should
thrill its joy and trill its fret,
And utter its heart in every deed,
Then would this breathing clarionet
Type what the poet fain would be;
For none o' the
singers ever yet
Has
wholly lived his minstrelsy,
Or clearly sung his true, true thought,
Or utterly bodied forth his life,
Or out of life and song has
wrought [11]
The perfect one of man and wife;
Or lived and sung, that Life and Song
Might each express the other's all,
Careless if life or art were long
Since both were one, to stand or fall:
So that the wonder struck the crowd,
Who shouted it about the land:
`His song was only living aloud,
His work, a singing with his hand!'
____
1868.
Notes: Life and Song
`Life and Song' is the fifth of a
series of seven poems
published under the general heading of `Street-cries',
with the two stanzas following as an introduction:
"Oft seems the Time a market-town
Where many merchant-spirits meet
Who up and down and up and down
Cry out along the street
"Their needs, as wares; one THUS, one SO:
Till all the ways are full of sound:
-- But still come rain, and sun, and snow,
And still the world goes round."
The remaining numbers of the
series are: 1. `Remonstrance',
given in this
volume; 2. `The Ship of Earth'; 3. `How Love Looked for Hell';
4. `Tyranny'; 6. `To Richard Wagner'; 7. `A Song of Love'.
I can think of no more helpful
comment on the subject of our poem
than this
sentence from Milton's `Apology for Smectymnuus',
already alluded to in the `Introduction' (p. liv [Part VI]):
"And long it was not after, when I was confirmed in this opinion,
that he who would not be
frustrate of his hope to write well hereafter
in laudable things, ought himself to be a true poem; that is,
a
composition and pattern of the best and honorablest things;
not presuming to sing high praises of
heroic men or famous cities,
unless he have in himself the experience and the practice of all that
which is praiseworthy."
Lines 19-20. I have been pleased to discover that the application
I have made of this poem, especially of these lines
(see `Introduction', p. liv [Part VI]), is
likewise made
by most students of Lanier's life, and that Mrs. Lanier has chosen
these two lines for
inscription on the
monument to be erected to his memory.
On the
reverse side of the stone, I may add, are to be put these words:
"He that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God" (I John iv. 16).
Jones's Private Argyment
That air same Jones, which lived in Jones, [1]
He had this pint about him:
He'd swear with a hundred sighs and groans,
That farmers MUST stop gittin' loans,
And git along without 'em:
That bankers, warehousemen, and sich
Was fatt'nin' on the planter,
And Tennessy was rotten-rich
A-raisin' meat and corn, all which
Draw'd money to Atlanta:
And the only thing (says Jones) to do [11]
Is, eat no meat that's boughten:
BUT TEAR UP EVERY I, O, U,
AND PLANT ALL CORN AND SWEAR FOR TRUE
TO QUIT A-RAISIN' COTTON!
Thus spouted Jones (whar folks could hear,
-- At Court and other gatherin's),
And thus kep' spoutin' many a year,
Proclaimin' loudly far and near
Sich fiddlesticks and blatherin's.
But, one all-fired sweatin' day, [21]
It happened I was hoein'
My lower corn-field, which it lay
'Longside the road that runs my way
Whar I can see what's goin'.
And a'ter twelve o'clock had come
I felt a kinder faggin',
And laid myself un'neath a plum
To let my dinner settle sum,
When 'long come Jones's waggin,
And Jones was settin' in it, SO: [31]
A-readin' of a paper.
His mules was goin' powerful slow,
Fur he had tied the lines onto
The
staple of the scraper.
The mules they stopped about a rod
From me, and went to feedin'
'Longside the road, upon the sod,
But Jones (which he had tuck a tod)
Not knowin', kept a-readin'.
And
presently says he: "Hit's true; [41]
That Clisby's head is level.
Thar's one thing farmers all must do,
To keep themselves from goin' tew
Bankruptcy and the devil!
"More corn! more corn! MUST plant less ground,
And MUSTN'T eat what's boughten!
Next year they'll do it: reasonin's sound:
(And, cotton will fetch 'bout a dollar a pound),
THARFORE, I'LL plant ALL cotton!"
____
Macon, Ga., 1870.
Notes: Jones's Private Argyment
The themes of this poem, the
relative claims of corn and cotton
upon the attention of the farmer and the
disastrous results of speculation,
are treated
indirectly in `Thar's More in the Man Than Thar Is in the Land',
and directly and with
consummate art in `Corn'.
1. "That air same Jones" appears in `Thar's More', etc., written in 1869,
in which we are told: