The Arkansaw traveler., 1886-01-16
THE IMAGINATION.

tENC0t' os tukStSoats "a NVNtn SNnSt. NeNtSUsI The man ot imagination--tAat is to say, of genius-having seen leaf and q drop of water, can construct the forestS the rivers and the seas. In his presence all the cataracts fall and foam, the mists rise, tke clouds form and float. To really know one fact is to know itS kindred and its neighboEhorS- Shakes peare looking at a coat of mail, instantly imagined the society, the conditions that produced it, and what it produced. He saw the castle, the moat, the drawbridge, the lady in the tower, and the knis htly lover spurring over the plain. He saw the bold baron and tho rude retainer, the trampied seTf, and all the glory and tAe griei of feudal life.
 The man of imagination has lived the life of all people, of all races. He was a citizen of Athens in the days of Pericles i; listened to the eager eloquence of the great orator, and sat upon the clif, and with the tragic poet heard "the multi tudinous laughter of tho sea-" He saS Socrates thrust the spear oi question through the shield and heart of false hood was present when the great man drank hemlock and met the night of death tranquil as a star meets morning. He has followed the peripasetic philoso pheTs, and has been puzzled by the soph- ists. He has watched Phidias as he chls- eled shapeless stone to forms of love and awe.
 He has lived by the slow Nile amid the vast and monstrous. He knows the very thought that wrought the form and featureszpt the Sphinx. He has heard great Memnon's morning song-has lain him down with the embalmed and wait ing dead and felt within their dust the expectation of another lite mingled with cold and suffocating dcubts--the children born of long delay.
 He has walked tho ways ot mighty Rome, has seen great Cesar with his iegions in the field, has stood with vast and motley throngs- and watched the triumphs given to victorious men, tol- lowed by uncrowned kings, the captured hosts, and all the spoils of ruthless war. He has heard the shout that shook the Coliseum's roohess walls when from the reeling gladiator hand the short sword tell, while from his bosom gu,hed the stream of wasted life.
 He has lived the life of savage men, has trod the forests silent depths, and in the desperate game of life or death has matched his thought against the instinct of the beast.
 He knows all crimes and al regrets, all virtues and their rich rewards. He has been victim and victor, pursuer and pursued, outcast and king has heard the applause and curses of the world, and on his heart have fallen all the nights and moons of fAilure and success. He knows the unspoken thoughts, the dumb desires, the wants and ways Of beasts. He has felt the crouching tiger $ thrill, the terror of the ambushed prey, and with the eagles he has shared the ecstasy of flight and poise and swoop, and he has lam with sluggish serpents on the barren rocks, uncoiling slowly in the heat of noon.
 He has sat beneath the bo trees con templauve shade, rapt in Buddha's mighty thought, and he has dreamed all dreams that Light the alchemist, hath wrought from dust and dew and stored within the slumbrous popPys subtle blood.
 He has knelt with awe and dread a, every shrine, has offered every sacrifice and every pray has felt the consolation and the shuddering fear, has seen all devils, has mocked and worshiped all the gods enjoyed all heavens and felt the bangs of every hell.
 He has lived all lives, and through his blood and brain have crept the shadow and the chill of every death, aud his soul, Mazeppa-like, has been lashed naked to the wild horse of every fear and love an d hate.
 The imaginative man hath a stage within the brain, whereon he sets all scenes that lie between the morn of laughter and the night ofteaTs, and where his players body forth the false and true, the joys and griefs, the careless shadows and the tragic deeps of every life.