New-York daily tribune. [volume] (New-York [N.Y.]) 1842-1866, 1855-04-30
NATURE LND MISSION OF POETRY
by PROP. EMANUEL vrTALIs sCHERB.


The subject OF bic lecture be ssd vas the Nature
and Mission Of Poetry. Many years ago, when .
boy, he sfhtd the German Poet: what is Poetry and
how can one become poet' And be l.id his hand
upon the boys heart and told him that Poetry was
not the exclusive possession Of few strong ndivid-
uas; il was lot hsndicrsfts knack; il belonged
to all men and women who earnestly and with all
their heart and soul yearped for it. II was the pure
ether; the kernel Of life; yes, life itelf.
And -ha. was the kernel Of ifei He
repeated from Plato the Story Of Gl.ucus,
the young and beautiful fisherman whom the sea
bympbs carried down 20 their crystal home ~ live
with them, and how after he had lived there for many
years bis body became incrusied sih shells and peb-
bles. 60 that be was not tie same Glsucus that he
was before; and PlAo went TO say that il WAS just
20 with the soul OF when it fell sfom its home in
heaven down upon this exiltd earth. So it was. And
faith alone assured that beneath all these shells and
pebbles, these marks and conventional disgai.es,
there was yet kernel Of life. To that, Poetry spoke;
from that, Poetry spoke. In every human soul there
was yeaining for something higher han the enjoy
nents of mankind; yearni,g for endless bliss, for
infinite happiness Poetry the manifestation 'fthe
divine pirit in the the human sprit, revealibg itself
hrougt The medium of the imae nation. Taey we're all
one and the came; the good, the true and the beaut
full II hsd been thought that Philosophy and Poetry
cid not agree with each other. He sne that there
was q certain philosophy which vas unpoetich; but
II was .idply because IT was uDphiosophic the
mere comprehensive the vie OF the philosopher,
the deeper bic glspce through the crrs into the heart
Ct the universe The greater the poet he vas. IL vas
even sad that Poetry and Philosophy mus. be op-
posed since Poetr, had to deal with fc'ions ADD
Philosophy wi b truths. Bat there never was
eYes'er fallscy. Fer whatever might be the
dress in which the poet presented his idess,
they themselves must be hue or he was nor
a poet He knew Of no better illustration
Of the identity OF Science and Poetry, than the
friendship which existed bet Seen the great Doscuci
Of moe ern science ard modern art, Goethe and Alex.
snder Humboldt. Poetry WAS nothing else tn IN
The Ell bodu ent and incarnation Of divine thoughts
TIE d ct was the child creator AID the little child
looked up TO ito mother and strove - initiate her, so
the poet locked up to God. Whoever was possessed
of these two power, the vision and the faculty
divine was poet No matter how he might cho )se
10 express t. whether by chselliDg marble or spread
ing colors by stretching the arms OF aspred cathe
orsl to beaver, or by piling agoes on agonies and
aspiration. on aspirations in glorious symphony OF
tones But to the most comprehensive, the human
word, common usage had applied par excellence the
name of Poetry. The poet showed US some things
which be bad seen in heaven. AZ the dileIant
quizzed the finger nails and the toe nas of statue
and Judged OF 1t by them critics admired the fine
SMILES of poem, and enlarged upon the rounding of
yeise. 1t wss the old story OF bringing brick to
cell s house by. TIE life of the poem and Of the
statue was too large for their microscopic vision.
First came the matter, ard then the manner; fret
the what, and then the how. So poets and artists
might be divided into four classes. Fret those who
have nothing to cay, and say that nothing msera.
bIy az pctsible. The second included those who
have aso nothing to say, but VINO say admirably.
A great many names might be mentioned, p.rtcu.
lsrly of the Steele of Louis xiv. The third class
consisted Of those who had something to say, who
had seep heaven, but whose powers Of express
zion were lot equal to the funess Of their hesrts.
Such en- one was the German poet Jean Psul The
asst al sm sest class incluced those WHO hsd seen
3iyipe things ard could express them diviney They
who had equal genius sbc talent were the great ets.
Be NJ It ,ne TO the genuine Yankee question: What
IL Poetry good fort Some might think that this ques.
ion should not be raiied at all, but such we're only
ntsliste. The commonest snswer was that
Poetry was good for nothing; but this was not very
rave this snswer We we're comfored at once; they
were The came who said tina, trnh good for nothing
To was no reality than thst If The
Iee He Il en- told Patos story of the cspves chained
in cave with their faces toward the wall oppo-te the
entrance. Before the entrance was high road, and
when men passed by, the captives their shadows
on the wall and supposed they were real things add
called them pep. Ard Ehen man came once into
the cave and ssid: my poor people, these are not
" men, these are only shadows, and you must turn
around AID realize it," then they laughed a. him
and thought be was fool. So these other poor cap
.ives think the poet lie fool. When Daste hiss
pasi ed through Hell end Purgatory, Virghs mere
earthly wisdom is incapable of guiding him further;
And there che Gomez the long Lost but forgot
ten the dream Of his childhood the strength Of his
mspbood, the blessed Saint Beatrice. She has
watched over him With mothers care; she looks
upon bim with mothers love. Spirits rise from
Earth by fixing their eyes the Central Sun Of di.
witty; but Dante cannot endure its spiendor. How
IL be 10 rise TO heaven Again love comes bet xeen
him and bis iwperections. Beatrice looks at the
Sun; and she riies, and Dante looks into her eyes
and the reflection of the divine eugcnce re.sios so
much Of its original power that he rises with her.
Much as be loved Poetry, much a. be revered it, he
could Lot putt on slevel with Religion. There
point in tee development ' The race In the experience
OF tie Individual, shen Poetry was found wanting.
There we're moments in the life Of ALL moments Of
ably email agony, moments of heaven storning rapture,
when words became poor and impotent, where even
music could not follow, and the over whelned soul
bowed down, down. Those momens were most
eloqus ut when mute And what was true With reg ard
to the experience Of individuals, was true also WITH
regard to the race. For VIA. was Poetry but tue
rejection from BeaiIices eyes. We should ons day