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wrote what I regard as the most striking than Clough does in it the state of mind poem of his life, but also the most perfect of an enthusiast for the antique type of expression of the impotence to which man, who, for his modern experience, had Carlyle's gospel, taken alone, leads a mind been led into the wilderness by Carlyle, which, beyond what it found in Carlyle, and left there. You see, one by one, bad little but its deep admiration of the almost all Carlyle's crotchets dissolved in old classical strength to sustain it. This a classical tincture not at all Carlylian; his poem was, again, in hexameter verse, and scorn for history itself, so far as bistory called by Clough “ Amours de Voyage,” is not heroic; his detestation of formulæ ; which might, perhaps, be translated his contempt for the smug middle-class; “Loves of the Way." One of the mot- his disposition to mock at the sentimentoes prefixed to it is from Shakespeare: talities of life; his hatred of the Jesuits; Oh, you are sick of self-love, Malvolio !

his grim preference for Sans-culottes; And taste with a distempered appetite.

and yet you see all these feelings blended

almost equally with an enthusiasm for the Another is, “ Il doutait de tout, même de

great classical ideals of which Carlyle, in l'amour." And here, again, is the poet's own prel. trace. A more impressive picture of a

bis Scotch peasanthood, had little or no ude, which shows in how doubting a doubting mind that doubted everything mood he went to look upon the glories of even love — and yet did not

that the Old World:

the classical grandeur was grandeur inOver the great windy waters, and over the deed, and that a disdainful classical forti. clear-crested summits,

tude has in it an element of strength Unto the sun and the sky, and unto the per- which is not otherwise to be found by fecter earth,

those who cannot believe very genuinely in Come, let us go, - to a land wherein gods of the old time wandered,

any spiritual revelation, is not, I think, in Where every breath even now changes to.

existence, than that presented in “ Amours ether divine.

de Voyage." It is a painful picture, a Come, let us go; though withal a voice whis. picture of a morbid condition of mind de.


“The world that we live in, liberately drawn, but, nevertheless, most Whithersoever we turn, still is the same nar- powerfully drawn, and full of lasting memrow crib;

ories. I can give you but a glimpse, here 'Tis but to prove limitation, and measure a and there, of the results. Claude goes to cord, that we travel ;

Rome, sick of everything, and finds his Let who would 'scape and be free go to his chamber and think;

general impression of Rome, in the first 'Tis but to change idle farcies for memories instance, one that he can only describe

tbus: wilfully falser; 'Tis but to go and have been." Come, Rubbishy seems the word that most exactly little bark! let us go.

would suit it, And here is his own criticism on his own all the foolish destructions and all the sillier work, as, not without a distinct resurrec

savings, tion of his old classical enthusiasm, he All the incongruous things of past incompatible

ages, finally concludes it:

Seem to be treasured up here, to make fools of So go forth to the world, to the good report present and future,

and the evil! Go, little book! thy tale, is it not evil and Rome, he says, disappoints him much, good?

but soon he "shrinks, and adapts himself Go, and if strangers revile, pass quietly by to it:”.

without answer. Go, and if curious friends ask of thy rearing Rome, believe me, my friend, is like its own

Monte Testaceo, Say, “I am fitting about many years from Merely a marvellous mass of broken and cast. brain unto brain of

away wine-pots. Feebie and restless youths born to inglorious Ye gods! what do I want with this rubbish of davs:

ages departed, But,” so finish the word, “I was writ in a Ro. Things that Nature abhors, the experiments man chamber,

that she has failed in? When from Janiculan heights thundered the What do I find in the Forum ? An archway cannon of France.

and two or three pillars.

Well, but St. Peter's? Alas, Bernini has filled I call this the most perfect of Clough's it with sculpture! poems, because it is hardly possible to No one can cavil, I grant, at the size of the bring out with more striking poetic force great Coliseum.

and age,



Doubtless the notion of grand and capacious And so the poem goes on, showing how and massive amusement,

Mr. Claude half falls in love with Mary This the old Romans had; but tell me, is this Trevellyn, and half despises himself for

an idea? Yet of solidity much, but of splendor little is doing so; how the French troops appear,

and Mr. Claude questions himself what “ Brickwork I found thee, and marble I left he should do if he were expected to lay thee!” their Emperor vaunted;

down his life for “the British female." “Marble I thought thee, and brickwork I find Subsequently he sees, or believes he sees, thee !" the Tourist may answer.

a man killed, but he explains to his read.

ers his profound doubt as to what he had In this temper, he meets with a banker's seen, and how small the evidence on family, to whom he is introduced by a which he can allege that he did see it. friend, and moralizes on them after Car. He saw a crowd dragging somebody or lyle's own heart:

something; he saw bare swords in the Middle-class people these, bankers very likely, air; he saw pleading hands and hands not wholly

putting back; he saw the swords descend, Pure of the taint of the shop; will at table a hewing, a chopping; he saw them afterd'hôte and restaurant

wards stained with red. He stooped, Have their shilling's worth, their penny's pen- and “through the legs of the people saw nyworth even;

the legs of a body," and went away supNeither 'man's aristocracy this, nor God's, God posing that he had seen a man killed, but

knoweth ! Yet they are fairly descended, they give you to little to go upon, if the fact should be

profoundly convinced that he had very know, well connected; Doubtless somewhere in some neighborhood seriously doubted. have, and are careful to keep, some

The Trevellyns leave Rome, and Mr. Threadbare-genteel relations, who in their turn Claude is greatly offended by having his are enchanted

"intentions” inquired after by his friend Grandly among county people to introduce at Vernon, who marries the other daughter. assemblies

This throws him into a fever of self-dis. To the unpennied cadets our cousins with ex- trust and distrust of others. At first he

cellent fortunes. Neither man's aristocracy this, nor

will not follow them; then he absolves

od's, God knoweth !

the lady of all complicity, and will follow

them. Then he loses their track, partly Soon, however, Mr. Claude "shrinks, and regains it, is more and more doubtful of adapts himself” not only to Rome, but to himself and of his own inner mind, and the worthy Trevellyns :

at last gives up his pursuit of love, as he Is it contemptible, Eustace - I'm perfectly ligion, from profound distrust of his own

has apparently given up his pursuit of reready to think so, Is it,

the horrible pleasure of pleasing infe- power to test the value of his own yearnrior people?

ings. The love-affair ends as follows: I am ashamed my own self; and yet true it is, if disgraceful,

After all, do I know that I really cared so That for the first time in life I am living and

about her ? moving with freedom.

Do whatever I will, I cannot call up her image; I, who never could talk to the people I meet For when I close my eyes, I see, very likely, with my uncle,

St. Peter's, I, who have always failed, — I, trust me, can Or the Pantheon façade, or Michael Angelo's suit the Trevellyns;

figures, 1, believe me, - great conquest, am liked by Or, at a wish, when I please, the Alban hills the country bankers.

and the Forum ; And I am glad to be liked, and like in return But that face, those eyes, -- ah no, never any. very kindly.

thing like them; So it proceeds ; Laissez faire, laissez aller, Only, try as I will, a sort of featureless outline, such is the watchword.

And a pale blank orb, which no recollection Well, I know there are thousands as pretty after all, perhaps there was something facti.

will add to. and hundreds as pleasant,

tious about it; Girls by the dozen as good, and girls in abundance with polish

I have had pain, it is true: I have wept, and so

have the actors. Higher and manners more perfect than Susan

or Mary Trevellyn. Well, I know, after all, it is only juxtaposi. Not as the Scripture says, is, I think, the fact. tion,

Ere our death-day, Juxtaposition is short; and what is juxtaposi- Faith, I think, does pass, and Love; but tion?

Knowledge abideth.

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Let us seek Knowledge; the rest may come thew Arnold - it is in the second set of and go as it happens.

stanzas addressed to the author of “ Ober. Knowledge is hard to seek, and harder yet to mann - makes his touching and tender, adhere to.

but hopeless wail over the burial of the Knowledge is painful often; and yet when we know, we are happy.

great Christian hope — you will see, I Şeek it, and leave mere Faith and Love to think, what I mean, when I say that while come with the chances.

Arnold feels what Clough felt, he does

not attach to those deeper feelings the And so the ravelled threads of the poem sense of final and overpowering authority are all cut, in the end. The fall of the which Clough, reason on it as he would, Roman Republic ends it in one way, the was compelled to attach to them. Clough exhaling of the lover's dreams in anoth- would not have written, as Arnold wrote: er; while the final expression of a conviction that knowledge is greater than love, While we believed on earth he went, and that none the less you have not knowl

And open stood his grave; edge enough to guide yourself, but must Men called from chamber, Church, and tent,

And Christ was by to save. leave that guidance “to the chances”.

Now he is dead, far hence he lies which are perhaps not controlled by any

In the lorn Syrian town; bigher love - ends the poem intellectu. And on his grave, with shining eyes, ally, with a sharp click of the rationalistic

The Syrian stars look down. shears.

It would, however, be most unjust to No; Clough expressed with a passion Clough to suppose that this poem, though that struggles through a pent-up and heave it clearly represented his state of mind at ing breast - a passion not of poetic feel. one epoch of his life, was meant to, but of bleeding and lacerated faith ture bis deepest and truest convictions. — his sense of the almost irreconcilable How far he might trust the spiritual emo inconsistency between the triumph of our tions which were so strong in him, Clough Lord's religion and the triumph of the never clearly made out; but it was his world's evil; but doubt as he would, the deepest and final belief that, more or less, higher buoyancy of the spiritual faith astrust them you must, and rather more serted itself at last, and vague as his than less. In this, as it seems to me, he faith undoubtedly was, the final note is differs, and differs for the better, from always exultation, and not mild despondone who has the advantage of him often

ency. “In the great Gospel and true in the form and perfectness of imagina. creed, Christ is yet risen, indeed, Christ tive expression, and who writes much on is yet risen." the same themes, I mean his friend and

I must give you one piece, in which the brother-poet, Matthew Arnold. In Aro note of exultation is predominant, before nold, the “ lyrical cry" is as delicate and I conclude. It was written, po doubt, true as it is in Clough, but the poet has during the latter part of Clougli's life at nothing like equal confidence that it comes Oxford, when many of his early friends from the same depth, that it speaks with had followed Dr. Newman into the Roman the same authority. If you will read — I Catholic Church; while some were, like hardly dare trust myself to read to you, himself, rather disposed to follow Carlyle here the impressive, the overpowering into a Church not at all Catholic, but lines which Clough wrote under the heavy rather, grim, violent, and picturesquely sense of the overflowing sinfulness of dim. Clough felt these sudden separaNaples, the burden of which was tbattions with that depth of tender feeling Christ is not risen, and could not be risen, which always marked his friendships, and in spite of all the asseverations of loving expressed his own emotion in the followdisciples and tender women who affirmed ing marvellously beautiful lines: that they had seen him in his risen form, or else it were impossible that all this

QUA CURSUM VENTUS. evil should bave been generated and grown up under the very shadow of his As ships, becalmed at eve, that lay

With canvas drooping, side by side, reign; and the less powerful, but still Two towers of sail at dawn of day most genuine recantation, in which he

Are scarce long leagues apart descried; unsays his bitter words, and declares that, nevertheless, “in the great Gospel and When fell the night, upsprung the breeze, true creed, Christ is yet risen indeed, And all the darkling hours they plied, Christ is yet risen;" and if you will com. Nor dreamt but each the self-same seas pare these with the lines in which Mat- By each was cleaving, side by side :


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E'en so - but why the tale reveal

which looked at that time more like a Of those, whom year by year unchanged, fishing village than the emporium of the Brief absence joined anew to feel,

newly opened commerce between Europe Astounded, soul from soul estranged.

and Japan. At some little distance from At dead of night their sails were filled,

the landing place the traveller noted a And onward each rejoicing steered

wooden building, over which the English Ah, neither blame, for neither willed,

flag was waving. He took particular no. Or wist, what first with dawn appeared ! tice of this spot; and on jumping ashore

a few minutes later, went straight into the To veer, how vain! On, onward strain,

British Consulate - for that was the edi. Brave barks! In light, in darkness too, Through winds and tides one compass guides –

fice in question — without asking the way To that, and your own selves, be true.

of anybody. Indeed the oldest resident

in Yokohama could not have shown more But o blithe breeze! and O great seas, topographical self-reliance than the new

Though ne'er, that earliest parting past, On your wide plain they join again,

A burly servitor was standing at the Together lead them home at last.

door of the official residence.

“ Consul at home?” asked the fresh One port, methought, alike they sought, One purpose hold where'er they fare,

arrival, with the slightest possible move. O bounding breeze, O rushing seas !

ment of the head, and pointing towards At last, at last, unite them there!

the open door. To my ear, that exulting strain is hardly miliarity with which his superior was

The officer seemed shocked at the faever absent from any of Clough's deeper spoken of, and replied with serious dig. poems. Even in the poem which represents his most cynical mood — the nity; “ Amours de Voyage

• Mr. Robert Mitchell, her Majesty's

- you hear it rising again and again, and sometimes swell- consul for Japan, is in bis office.”

The traveller, upon whom this repriing till it all but drowns the doubter in him. His nature had in it the deepest slightest impression, proceeded to enter

mand did not seem to make the very sympathy with “the blithe breeze and the great seas," which seem to image all that

the building; but the constable, barring is most elastic in the universe - the elas.

his entrance, gruffly said, ticity which is at bottom spiritual and not

Your card, sir, if you please!”

The stranger looked at this pompous physical, which represents the indomitable power and indomitable love of God. representative of the English police in From that buoyant and elastic spirit Japan with some astonishment, but at Clough's poetry borrowed the very breath once handed him the card with a quiet

smile, saying, of its life, and I would fain hope that those who, in spite of the gravest differ

“Very well; here it is."

The man went in without saying anences from him, "in light, in darkness too,” strain onwards like him, may one

other word, and returning immediately, day find the same port which he, I am

pointed to a door, and invited the stranger sure, has long since entered.

to enter. The traveller, without hesita

tion, turned the handle, and with a firm RICHARD HOLT HUTTON.

step entered a large, well-lighted room, where a handsome young Englishman sat enthroned behind a big, ledger-looking

book. Waiting a few seconds, and see. Froin Blackwood's Magazine. ing that no notice was taken of him, the THE LITTLE WORLD: A STORY OF JAPAN. new.comer at last approached the desk

and said, in a rather loud but agreeable voice,

“ I bave come here to register myself WHEN Yokohama was first opened to in the books of the consulate as a British

aropean trade in 1859, there arrived one subject," at the same time banding the fine day in one of the earliest steamers consul his passport. from Shanghai a tall, slim young Irish- " You arrived to-day?" asked the comman, with fair hair and bright blue eyes. mercial representative of his country, While the boats were being got ready to

“Ten minutes ago." land the passengers, he stood on deck " In the Cadiz, Captain M Gregor ?" whistling, and gazing attentively at the “ Yes, sir." little town lying in a crescent before him, “Did the steamer bring the mails ?





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« Yes.”

“Come, now, I don't see that at all, “To whom is she consigned ? "

Mr. Consul. Some misfortune must take " To Dana & Co."

place in this wretched world, but every: The consul had meanwhile examined body has a right to wish that he should be the passport, and finding it satisfactory, exempted from it. For my own part I am copied the following entry from the offi- quite willing to leave the whole sum of cial document into the open register be misery that is daily endured on our planet fore him: “ Thomas Ashbourne - British to any one of my fellows. But look, there subject — Dublin, Ireland - civil engi- come three of them now. I will detain Deer.”

you no longer. I have the honor, Mr. He then wrote on the passport in large Cousul," and he concluded by bowing figures, with red ink, the number 13, and himself out of the august presence of her returned it to its owner.

Majesty's commercial representative in The new arrival looked at it carefully, Japan. shook his head, elevated his eyebrows, The three gentlemen who now entered and stared again and again at the ominous were English merchants, who, without utfigure. There was something comically tering one unnecessary word, got them. familiar in his attitude, but her Majesty's selves registered under the numbers 14, consul for Japan, who in those days was 15, and 16, as Mr. M.Bean from Glasgow, considered a personage of very great im- Mr. Haslett_from Manchester, and Mr. portance, did not seem at all inclined to West from London. Then leaving the place himself with Mr. Ashbourne on the consulate, these three travellers — who, footing of equality apparently solicited. during the long passage from Shanghai to He contented himself, therefore, by say. Yokohama had become well acquainted ing,

with each other — made off in the direction “The fee, sir, is five dollars, if you of the foreign settlement. When about a please.” Ashbourne handed over the hundred paces on their way they met a sum, and addressing the consul in an al- young man, who silently saluted them tered tone of the strictest formality, said, without moving a muscle of his pale face,

“May I take the liberty of asking you, and whose cold recognition they returned sir, what is the meaning of that large in the saine manner. The man having number 13' which you have just written passed, M‘Bean remarked, so beautifully in red ink on my pass- “A strange and mysterious fellow this

Jervis. I can't say that I have taken a “Oh; that signifies your entry in the great liking to him." consular register.”

“Nor 1,” said West and Haslett in suc“Ahem!” murmured Ashbourne with cession. a thoughtful air; "then I must tell you, The stranger, in truth, could not boast Mr. Consul, that I have drawn a con- of a prepossessing exterior, though it foundedly bad number.”

would have been difficult to define the dis“Well, somebody had to draw it." pleasing elements in him. He was tall,

“Yes, of course; and somebody will be slim, and well built, with a light, quick drowned this year, and somebody must step; and in his movements there was also be hanged this year. I don't like something stealthy and elastic, like the that number. 13. I consider it the very gait of a cat. His smooth-combed hair worst in the whole system of figures ! was of a deep black hue, in remarkable But that is the well-deserved reward for contrast with his clear, northern complexbeing too forward. Why on earth did I ion and bright, gray eyes. His sharply make a bet with myself, that without ask. marked features showed a bold and noble ing my way of anybody, I would be the profile ; but looking full at that smoothfirst of all the passengers on board the shaven face and high, narrow forehead, *Cadiz' to call on the English consul? the observer could not help remarking Had I joined my fellow-travellers, I should the prominent cheek-bones, the large only have been registered five minutes mouth with thin, firmly closed lips, the later, and then perhaps another might heavy jaw and broad chin, which gave to have drawn this unlucky number and the whole visage an appearance of great welcome to it, as far as I am concerned." energy, combined with coldness and re

“A very unchristian remark,” inter serve. posed the consul, forgetting for a moment On Mr. Jervis entering the consul's his official dignity so far as to address a office he found that dignitary again deeply guileless traveller in a semi-familiar man. lost in the study of the big book afore


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