raise, like him, a tidal wave affecting the | around the sun, in a path very little whole fluid substance of the earth; and, changed from that which she at present owing to her much greater proximity, the follows, and, by such wave motion as the tidal wave she thus raised must of neces- sun can produce in the moon's mass, he sity have been very much greater than would tend slowly to diminish her rate of that raised by the sun. This tidal wave, rotation. The neighborhood of the earth like that now raised by the moon, would prevents any such change from occurring, retard the earth's rotational spin, and and would do so, even if the sun could much more effectively. The retardation raise a large tidal wave in deep lunar seas of the earth's spin would then, as now, or in the moon's entire mass. It will be be accompanied by a gradual retardation seen presently that this is a consideration of the moon's motion, and recession of of some importance. There is also some the moon from the earth. And while work for the earth to do though it is these changes were taking place, the but slight-in diminishing the moon's earth, by her attraction on the then fluid rate of rotation so as to correspond exmass of the moon, would be producing actly with the slow, gradual increase in similar effects. The moon (supposing her her period of revolution. Students of the then to have rotated in less time than she moon could well wish this were otherwise, occupied in revolving round the earth) so that the farther side of the moon, which would be acted upon tidally by the earth. we never see,,might come, however slowly, A mighty wave of fluid or at least plastic into our ken. matter would circle around the moon in a direction contrary to that in which she was rotating; she would, therefore, gradually lose her rotational spin, just as the earth was losing hers, only at a more rapid rate. The reaction corresponding to this action would be, in the earth's case, as in the moon's, shown by increased distance. In other words, the earth's rotation and the moon's rotation would both be reduced in rate, the moon's the more rapidly, and both changes would combine reactionally in increasing the distance separating the two bodies.

The earth, then, acting on the moon caused the moon to adopt that mode of motion which we recognize in her, turning once on her axis while she revolves once around the earth. In this peculiarity of the moon's motion we recognize one piece of evidence, which of itself is absolutely convincing, as to the vastness of the timeintervals which have elapsed since the moon first began her independent existence. Whatever the moon's original rotation period may have been it was certainly very much shorter than her present rotation period. If we suppose it Only one of these processes is now identical originally with her period of revgoing on the moon's action is dimin-olution there would have been an enorishing the earth's rotational spin (and the moon's distance is therefore increasing by reaction), the earth's action is not diminishing the rotational spin of the moon. The reason why the latter action no longer produces any effect is that it has done its work, it no longer has anything left to work upon. The moon's rotation now synchronizes with her revolution around the earth, there is no tidal wave (there could be none if the moon's entire surface were covered by ocean, or even if the moon's entire mass were fluid), and therefore there is no loss of rotational spin. I have said the earth no longer has any work to do so far as modifying the moon's rotation is concerned. This is nearly true, but not quite. The earth has still some work to do, in preventing the rotation rate of the moon from diminish ing, as it would otherwise tend to do, under the sun's action. If the earth were suddenly destroyed, or rather re moved entirely away from the solar system, the moon would continue to travel

mous amount of work for the earth to do in gradually reducing the period to its present value- both periods, in point of fact, simultaneously. We have, then, to carry back the earth's history so far that, independently of all other evidence to that effect, we find ourselves forced to accept the conclusion that, at the beginning of the separate existence of earth and moon, our earth was a globe rotating much more rapidly than at present and much nearer to the moon.

And here the question arises whether we can find in this inference any explanation of the undoubted discrepancy between the teachings of geology and those of astronomy as to the earth's age. On the one hand the study of the earth's crust tells us of one hundred millions of years at the very least during which the earth has been the scene of changes such as are now in progress, chiefly one may say, altogether-under solar influence. On the other hand, regarding the sun's emission of heat as resulting, in the main,

from the contraction of his mass, we find and the great currents they produce? In the that, assuming his density uniform, or great primeval tides will probably be found nearly so, the contraction of his mass to the explanation of what has long been a reits present dimensions, even from a for- proach to geology. The early paleozoic rocks mer infinite extension, would have reform a stupendous mass of ocean-made beds, which, according to Professor Williamson, are sulted only in generating as much heat as would last, at the present rate of emis-twenty miles thick up to the top of the Silurian beds. It has long been a difficulty to conceive sion, about twenty millions of years. We how such a gigantic quantity of material could do not gain by supposing the rate of emis- have been ground up and deposited at the sion less in former ages of the earth, for bottom of the sea. The geologists said, "The then, the rate of solar work on the earth rivers and other agents of the present day will being less, the length of time necessary do it if you give them time enough." But, to complete the work which has actually unfortunately, the mathematicians and the been done would have been proportion-natural philosophers would not give them time ately greater.

enough. The mathematicians had other rea. sons for believing that the earth could not have been so old as the geologists demanded. Now, however, the mathematicians have discovered the new and stupendous tidal grinding engine. With this powerful aid the geologists can get through their work in a reasonable period of time, and the geologists and the mathematicians may be reconciled.

The difficulty is very serious. Dr. Croll, who was one of the first to call attention to it, suggested the explanation, which I take to be inconceivable, that our sun was generated by the collision of several orbs which had been rushing through space with enormous velocity, and that his supply of heat represents the energy of those rushing suns, as well as that re sulting from compression. My own solution of the difficulty is one which is confirmed by other researches, including an important investigation by Mr. G. Dar-ering. That they have subtracted somewin, that the sun is not of nearly uniform density throughout his apparent globe, but that he is enormously compressed towards the centre, and that, in point of fact, the surface we see lies very far above the real surface of the sun.

Dr. Ball believes that in the former proximity of the moon we may find a complete answer to the enigma. In the primitive oceans, he says, the moon raised tides as she does now, but when she was nearer the tides were much higher than at present. For instance, when the moon's distance was but forty thousand miles, or, roughly, a sixth of her present distance, her tide-raising power was not six times, but two hundred and sixteen (six times six times six) times greater than at pres ent. So far Dr. Ball's reasoning is sound; but I cannot follow him in saying that therefore, the tides would have been two hundred and sixteen times as high as at present. (There is no such simple relation as this between tide producing energy and the height of the tidal wave.) Stiil, we may admit that the tides were very much higher then than now.

These mighty tides [says Dr. Ball] are the gift which astronomers have now made to the working machinery of the geologist. They constitute an engine of terrific power to aid in the great work of geology. What would the puny efforts of water in other ways accomplish when compared with the majestic tides

I am disposed to doubt seriously wheth er mathematicians and astronomers have done more than to somewhat alleviate the pressure of the difficulty we are consid

what from the work which had formerly been assigned to the sun must be admit ted. We need not inquire what the former height of the tides, or to discuss the action of the tidal wave in detail. If we consider only that the tidal wave, according to the very theory we are considering, has, by its reaction against the earth, reduced the earth's rotation spin from a rate of one rotation in perhaps not more than three hours, certainly not more than six, to one rotation only in twenty-four hours, we see that the work done on the earth's crust must have been enormous. It represents the friction products, so to speak, of all that work. The wonder might rather be that the ocean-made beds are not much thicker than they are, than that they are so thick. But here is our difficulty returning to us in another form. Is it clear that the beds considered by Dr. Ball were not made subsequently to the time when the moon was at the com paratively small distance he mentions? Can we for a moment imagine that the tremendous work of checking the earth's rotation spin to less than a quarter of what it was, has only left such traces as these? Must not that work have been

done while still the greater part of the earth's mass was fluid, and the water tidal wave have begun its work long after? Geologists have other reasons than the thick, ocean-made strata for their belief in

the vast periods of time which form the
great difficulty of the problem. There is
the evidence derived from the study of
organic matter, the evidence derived from
the remains of once living creatures
animal and vegetable. The moon might
have raised a tidal wave as high as Chim-
borazo without hastening the progress of
what may be called the development of
the earth nay, she would very seriously
have checked this progress. It may be
doubted, even, whether life, belonging to
any save the lower forms, could have ex-
isted during the time when such tidal
waves as Dr. Ball pictures careered round
the swiftly rotating globe.

From Fraser's Magazine. THE POETRY OF DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI.

THE lyric poet has many outlets for the application of his special powers; he may express himself in the song, the ode, the sonnet, and the various forms of the ballad. If the narrative tendency is strong, and possessed along with an unflagging power over varied cadences and subtle and elaborate harmonies, then the lyric narrator may blossom into full fruition as an allegorist or a master of epic story. When we think of Spenser and Milton we directly associate them with "The Faerie Queene" and "Paradise Lost" respectively; but it is an easy transition that leads us back to the sweet fluency of the "Echo Song," or the dainty notes in the "Calendar"" that celebrate "faire Elisa." It is superfluous to say a word as to the perfect movement of Shakespeare's narratives, or as to the majestic measures of his songs and sonnets, but we may reasonably regret that the fashion of his time

did not induce him to write an ode. Then surely had there been such a clang and interchange of instruments, such triumphant surging floods and quiet expressive rills of perfect music, as it would have done the world good to hear! At the same time, a great poet's genuine strength is usually best seen in his own favorite way of expressing himself. Dryden's inimitable ode, for example, is such an accidental and exceptional product of his genius that Gray is warranted in speaking of him simply as the master of the heroic couplet, driving his

It remains to be noticed that, though the day will continually increase as the moon recedes, and, vice versâ, the length of the month, measured in days, attained long since its maximum. It was then some millions of years ago about twenty-nine days long, and is now but twentyseven and one-third days, as days are now. As the moon recedes, the lunar month - which is also the moon's day will contain fewer and fewer of our terrestrial days. For our day grows longer, now, at a greater rate than the lunar month increases. Our day will continue to grow longer and longer as the moon recedes. In one hundred and fifty millions of years, or thereabouts, our day will be about one thousand four hundred of our present hours long; this period, also, will then be that in which the moon circles around the earth-about fiftyeight and one-third of our present days. Dr. Ball goes on to consider how the sun would affect this state of things. There would be a tide raised by the sun on the earth after the moon had ceased to raise any tide (the earth's rotation exactly synchronizing with the moon's revolution); Gray himself is known only to the student and, as a result of this, Dr. Ball says, that as the author of exquisite odes and that the earth would begin to rotate in a longer delicately finished sonnet of his on the time than the moon circles round her. It death of Richard West; to the average appears to me that the moon's action reader of poetry he is simply the writer of would check any tendency of this sort, the wonderful elegy. So it is with Cowjust as the earth's action on the moon per and Thomson, both of whom did work has, as we know, prevented the moon in key and form different from the sober from rotating in a longer period than that and stately blank verse by which they are of her revolution round the earth. The popularly known. It is the same with the state of compromise with a moon circling great poets of the present century. Shelonce in one thousand four hundred hours ley, for example, is well-nigh forgotten as round the earth rotating in the same time, the moon also so rotating, would be, I believe, a state of stable equilibrium. It is not a very pleasant future to look forward to. Fortunately it is

very remote.

LIVING AGE.

RICHARD A. PROCTOR.

VOL. XXXVII, 1924

Two coursers of ethereal race,
With necks in thunder cloth'd, and long-re-
sounding pace.

a sonneteer, and even Wordsworth is rapidly coming to be thought of as simply a writer of elaborate didactic blank verse. It is unnecessary to speak of Coleridge, Southey, and Byron, all of whom are quietly becoming the special property of the professional literary man.

To the

quick observer the process is seen going on in our own time, and it would perhaps not be difficult to predict from what works posterity will quote when they speak of Mr. Tennyson, Mr. Browning, Mr. William Morris, and Mr. Swinburne. Let us note, however, in passing, that the popular verdict in such matters is not necessarily the true one, especially if (as in the cases of Milton and Wordsworth, as well as several living poets) the writer has shown decided power in various provinces of his art.

It is as useless to talk of the gratuitous limitation of the sonnet as it would be (and why should it not as well be?) to keep harping upon the particular fashion of any structure whatever, whether artistic or mechanical. It is no fault of a sonnet that it is not something else—it is not, for example, discreditable to it that it cannot be sung, or declaimed, or used piecemeal by the exhibitor of "literary beauties," and the like but it is distinctly meritorious that the genuine specimen should be instantly discernible, shining forth a perfect diamond with indubitable fascination of purity and symmetrical grace. Let it be, of course, an English sonnet, if the preference is for that form, and the result in the hands of a true mas

Such a forecast as that just indicated would be particularly difficult as yet in reference to Mr. Rossetti. His poetry has been before the world for something like twelve years altogether, while it is only now, from the two volumes just ister of his art will be a beautiful and persued (with much work entirely fresh, and fect English sonnet, for which the reader of great importance), that a fair judgment of poetry, according to his measure of can be formed as to his matured expres insight and appreciation, will have reason sion. He challenges attention as a son- to be duly thankful. On the other hand, neteer, a writer of ballads, and of narrative given the construction of a sonnet accordand reflective lyrics. One is not surprised, ing to the Petrarchan model, with its much after a perusal of his poems in various older pedigree, and the worthy poetical forms, to find that he has not tried the ode. craftsman will, without fail, produce that We are not more ready to regret that as his taste and strength may direct Shakespeare never attempted an ode than him. Mr. Rossetti works at the sonnet we are to acquit Mr. Rossetti of the task. in the spirit of the true lover of his art. His passion is incapable of rising into The architectural features of every sepa great billowy surges, and rolling forward rate unity are marked by deliberation, in tempestuous harmonies; nor is his judgment, finish, taste, and chaste elabopower over pathos adapted to the deli- ration. There is no loose grouping of decate and penetrating tenderness of the tached fragments of masonry, with indolonely flute. One could not possibly im-lent trust that somehow they will fit into agine Mr. Rossetti sitting up all night, and producing in the morning a triumphant ode for a Handel by-and-by to set worthily to music. The ode demands impulse of genius, quick, energetic fervor, mastery of rapid transition, and a comprehensive sense of multitudinous movements, as well as a clear perception of A sonnet is a moment's monument, delicate, single effects. Mr. Rossetti's Memorial from the soul's eternity method is incapable of application to any. To one dead deathless hour. thing of this kind. His work is characterized by intellectual subtlety, calm Acting upon this idea and perhaps, dignity of emotional reference, and pun- too, influenced in some measure by the gent ideal sympathy, rather than by depth existence of the “Vita Nuova" of his reand overflow of feeling, and storm and mote godfather — the poet has worked out .majesty of passion; while it is marked by a sonnet sequence which he calls "The patient elaboration and exquisite grace of House of Life." The different members finish rather than by strength of structu- of this remarkable canticle are so many ral design and massive grandeur of form moments' monuments, while the whole is and feature. It is by the assiduous culti-a transcript of the soul's experience in its vation of such powers as are clearly indi- more or less successful endeavors after cated by workmanship of this kind that an ideal. An attitude of philosophic mel. Mr. Rossetti has at length proved himself ancholy a wooing of despair—is charto be one of the finest poetical artists in acteristic of the traditional sonneteer. He our literature, and particularly one of the is Narcissus by the fountain; he is perfew really great sonneteers. petually fascinated by the reflection or the

one another and produce a harmonious result. On the contrary, even a slight analysis will show how interdependent are the different parts of the structure, and how well rounded and compact is the entire composition. As Mr. Rossetti himself well says,

projection of himself; his lady continues Two considerations must, of course, to elude his fond grasp, and to send thrills affect the verdict as to the prevalence of of painful regret and disappointment down this warm and rather enervating imagery through his bosom. Mr. Rossetti has -the first, that the poet is occupying a adopted so far the recognized formality of representative attitude as the interpreter attitude, and the first part of the work in (too candid, perhaps, and too indifferent particular (entitled "Youth and Change") to the feelings of the lady) in the touchis charged with devoted enthusiasm, and ing mystery of love's young dream; and weighted with rich and luscious imagery. the second, that he is allegorizing. BearThe elaborate figurative rapture will nowing this in mind we shall have less anxand then, as in the great Old Testament canticle, the Song of Solomon, startle, and even shock the unwary reader when off his guard for a moment, and forgetful of allegorical reference. This may happen when, for example, the poet tells how his lady and himself are suddenly revealed to each other by Love, who continues master of the situation, as

Now, shadowed by his wings, our faces yearn
Together;

iety about the feelings of ladies in the matter, and we shall with perfect propriety dismiss the thought of mixed audiences altogether. Mr. Rossetti writes for the intelligent and the sympathetic; his readers must not dwell with commonplace interpretation at all, but they must be able to grasp the fact that these things are a mystery. So understanding the poet's attitude, they will see that "The House of Life" is a work of remarkable ingenuity and elaboration. It follows the human

or again, as he tells of the rapture that soul from the time of its dim, early efforts comes when

after perfection through ideal duality, onIn the dusk hours, (we two alone), ward through the wild phase of passionClose-kissed and eloquent of still replies ate enthusiasm, to the awakened sobriety Thy twilight-hidden glimmering visage lies; and chastened calm of that reflective period when absolute possession is found or, as he makes the apparently weak con- to be impossible, and the only relief to fession that his lady's lips had just been weary memories is "the one hope's one forming with his "such consonant inter- name" that lasts while the soul itself has lude" as Orpheus, no doubt, was longing individuality. The sonnets are not all of for when his impatience destroyed his equal beauty, either of form or sentichances forever. Then the entire sonnet ment; but they are one and all remarkof "Supreme Surrender," to say nothing able for intellectual subtlety, terse and of many more, both in general conception vigorous emotional purpose, and evenness and particular details, is so loaded with and grace of movement. Sometimes, as ornamental, amorous conceits that its in the various details of the following on real motive and purpose are at first read-"Silent Noon," delicate glimpses of outing apt to be obscured. This considera- ward nature are given with singular feliction, as well as the extremely fine and ity and nicety of touch. There is a gentle subtle character of the prevalent allegory, susurrus breathing over this description, will certainly militate against the popular- while the dragon-fly is introduced with ity of Mr. Rossetti's sonnet canticle. It wonderful picturesqueness and truthfulwas one of the triumphs of the author of ness of detail: Euphues" that he could commend his romantic treatise to the diligent perusal of young ladies, with a confident belief that they would not misunderstand him. It is questionable whether one could with similar confidence propose the study of "The House of Life" to the same class

66

of readers. Would it not need considera-
ble precautionary comment before reading
aloud to a mixed audience such lines as
these from the tercets of "Youth's Spring
Tribute"?-

But April's sun strikes down the glades to-day;
So shut your eyes upturned, and feel my kiss
Creep, as the Spring now thrills through every
spray,

Up your warm throat to your warm lips.

Your hands lie open in the long fresh grass, The finger-points look through like rosy blooms:

Your eyes smile peace. The pasture gleams

and glooms

'Neath billowing skies that scatter and amass.