Morris tribune., 1886-03-31

Impending.
1t will probably not fr;ghten even the
Young creatures who are now dusting |
off their poems on antamn, and seeing
how they will make over for spring; we
suspect they will read with a painless
smile the invective of one of the old Au-
tocrats old Professors when he declares
that he ''recognizes IA tendency to
rhyming as common form of mental
weakness. and the publication of a thin
volume of verse as prinlG tacie evidence
of ambitious mediocrity, if not inferiori-
ty. The presumption" he
maintains, lis always against the rhym-
ster, as compared with the less preten-
tious person about him OF her, busy
with some useful calling. The
sight of a poor creature grubbing for
RHYMES to fill his sonnet makes
my head ache and my stomach rebel"
These are hard sayings, but the most
conscous-stricken offenders know the
Autocrat better than to take him at the
Professors word. In fact, it is not
prospective want of poetry which we
are disposed to deplore in our time, but
the lack of the good old-fashioned criti-
cism which we once had We can. re-
member the day when every quarterly,
monthly, weekly, had its gridiron well
heated, and its tender young poet
or poetess always grilling over the Goals
for the amusement of the spectators.
But what journal now keeps a hot grid
iron, or broils bards of any sex or age?
Ours, we are ashamed to say, has been
lost so long that it was not to be found
the other day when we wished to wreak
personal revenge ON Mr.. Robert Bu-
| chanan, though we looked the Study
high and low for it. In this state OF
things, we leave all anxiety for the poet
| ic future to Mr.. .Stedman; we forbode
not q famine, but a gross surfeit OF
poets, and great ones at that, all OF the
most unmistakable 'genius," unless the
sort of criticism which we lament can
be restored. But who will begin? Who
will strike the first blow to save us from
the horde of nascent immortals now
threatening to possess the earth? We
see how playfully the Autocrat's hand
descends; but perhaps that is because
he remembers the pleasant sins OF his
own YOUTH What we need for this
work is some dull, honest, ferocious
brute, whose thick head no pretty fancy
ever entered into; who observes only
that where the lilies and daisies are, the
grass isn't so good; and who can't see
a bit of gay color anywhere without
longing to get the points of his horns
well under the wearer. Unless we can
have him, and soon, there is no hope
for us. 49,
But if the danger we fear isn't really
at hand, if, on the contrary, we are at
the end of our great poets, for the pres
ent, we do not know that we shall al
together despair. There are black mo-
ments when, honestly between ourselves
and the reader, the spectacle of any ma
ture lady or gentleman proposing to put
his or her thoughts and feelings into
RHYMES affects us much as the sight OF
some respected person might if we met
him iigging or caracoling down the
street, instead of modestly walking.
This rhyming is not a thing to call the
keepers of the mad-house for, to pre-
scribe chains and stripes and straw
bed on the floor till the patient begins
to talk prose again; but isn't it all the
same thing to blush and grieve for al
this stage of the proceedings? So we
) ask ourselves in those black moments
which pass and leave us to the benefi.
cent magic which bathes all life in the
light that never was on sea OF land, the
charm which none but dolts deny
} What we ask is, hasn't there perhaps
been enough of it? If there should bt
no more great poetry, haven't we al
the great poets of the past inalienably
still? We can think of a single small
: volume of early verse which ought tx
supply any reasonable demand foi
poetry many years, and almost any
middle-aged literary man can think o
another.SW. d. HoeUeLs, IN Harper
Magazine for March.