St. Landry democrat., 1886-05-29

! VIC cldI aCltl VI VIC Cltluoi W H. SAl
arises is as important as the volume OF
it. and the public reception of Mr..
Marsh's muse, though loud enough to
satisfy anybody, aroused the bitterest
scorn in the poets heart. Such a
charivari of chaff, such Jovian roll
and peal of laughter arose from the
great reviewers, and was taken up by
the little ones, as has rarely rung in
any poets tingling ears since reviewing
came into fashion. The Times set him
down to roast at a whole column, the
| Iiser branded him with one red-hot
paragraph, and from every point OF the
compass the critics, big and little,
heayed the Goals of fire of friendless
criticism at him by the shovelful
But the poet, as Mr.. Iennyson had
already written, is at the moment OF
his birth ''dowered with the hate OF
hate the scorn of scorn'-and Mr..
Marsh was not easily to be discomfited
! He bought sonabrerOs of wider brlm
than he had ever worn until then, he
vowed in his inmost heart that shears
of the barber should invade his rolling
locks no more. aad he ordered his
| tailor to add an inch or two to the poet
| ical cloak in which he comm only went
about London. The faithless few who
! had wcrn his livery ami gone about IN
| his likeness fled from their col. Is
| They had their hair cut in the normal
way, and began to attire themselves i'll
the conventional garb of gentlemen.
When friends talked about the Leader
| they made weak pretense OF having
| been in the secret all along, and tried
to make it appear that they had been
hugely tickled by the fustian which had
thrilled their simple souls. The Leader
had lost his following as most leaders
do when they lead to ridicule, but he
facel the world alone, and meditated
fresh poems with an undaunted heart
He abandoned none of his old haunts,
but he found many of his old friends
pitiless. There are few men who need
sympathy more than the man whose
book is a failure Within it, tangible
and visible, lie the nerves of his soul,
if he has one! He has put into it his
acutest discernment, his sweetest fan
cies, his Hottest thoughts, his most cum
ming invention; he has glowed with
hope and gone cold with fear about it,
he has loved it tenderly and admiringly,
as good wife loves her husband, and
with growth of joy in its strength and
beauty, as q father loves his child.
Then comes the grim reviewer (born
surely with bowels of brass and heart
of adamant) and Stays this darling OF
the authors heart, scalps it, Sits its dear
little nose and tender ears, Wreaks on it
all his barbarous humor of wicked inven-
ton, and throws its remains aside with
out even the poor satisfaction OF a
Christian burial. Who can need SYM
patty more than AN author in such a
case? But there is no more mercy in
the world for him than there is milk in
a male tiger.
Yet in the conclave of ten, which
met in the cramped back parlor in the
Strand, the murdered poet found men
who had suffered aforetime, and had
known the joy of resurrection. The
man in the corner tossed the light quill
lets of the brain hither and thither, but
he aimed them not at the unsuccessful
He had himself tried to stay the tenn
pest, and had written that the book
was not so bad after all. Had the poet
known him as the dealer of that I'M
kindest cut of all, he would have slain
him in his corner before the spectral
nine. When he entered, and took his
seat among them, they greeted him
more kindly than of old, and made
more of comrade of him. Lorrimer,
who was talking, made point of adj
dressing him personally, SO as to make
a feature of him.
- Your worship was the last man in
our mouths. You remember being here
one day. long ago now, when sang
the praises of Miss !Churchill?'
Perfectly" replied the poet. Il
went with you to the final dress re-
hearsal, and you put into my hands the
letter she left behind her.
Il was saying so as you came in.
That brings history up to the end of
her connection with the stage. Well.
everybody knows what mystery that
looked. Not soul had an idea where
she disappeared to-
Il know said the poet, Il met her
afterward. She married fellow named
hen-disreputable fellow, who
was dismissed the army; insisted on
using such fearful language at the mess
table that the other men wouldn't
stand him. Well-connected fellow-I
believe he's the last of one of the oldest
families in Cornwall-but an awful
lblackguard, SO I'm told
Well, upon my word,'' said Lori
mer, 'sthat's q pretty sort Of cove to
forbid his wife with his dying breath,
to go upon the stage"
Mr.. Lorrimer's theory carried him
that length,
= Dead'' said the poet. lis he deadp
Well, she's very attractive, and quite
young. With such fortune as he could