Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-11-19
sENsE AND SENTIMENT.
The Deepest Philosophy and the Trues
Poetry Are Not Far Apart.

The Deepest Philosophy and the Truesi
Poetry Are Not Far Apart.
Common sense has been pronounced
the most uncommon kind of sense; bul
that which is common can not be un-
common, and we must define the dictum
of its apparent paradox before we can
concede its point. We must then define
the man of common sense as one whose
Judgment of things is based upon their
evident and universally recognized
qualities and relations, and who discards
from his calculations every thing that is
fancitul, visionary or speculative. His
philosophy is positive and practical. He
is not necessarily devoid of sentiment;
but he is not imaginative. He is safe
as far as he goes, and there is nothing
to fear from his leadership except that
he will not go far enough. The pro-
found minds of the world have always
understood that common sense alone can
never touch bottom. For things are not
what they seem, and in our common
thinking we mistake the shadow for the
substance, the appearance for the
reality. The deepest philosophy and the
truest poetry are not far apart. They
do not know the secret which
eternity keeps from time, but at least
they know that there is a secret-a Sc
cret hidden in the flower that grows in
the crannied wall, in every atom of mat
ter and every throb of force. The last
step of science is arrested at the margin
of that mystery. Modern inquiry moves
by observation, pieced out with specula-
ton, along a line of evolution back
wards. AS we follow its march, civili-
cation after civilization recedes from
view. We pass from higher to lower
stages of development, abandoning in
turn this invention and that, leaving
behind us successive styles of architec-
ture and dress, different instruments Of
war and husbandry, social conventions
and legal codes, philosophic and relig-
ious, until we come to primitive man,
unkempt and unarmed-but yesterday
an ape wild in the forest. But even
there we have not enough denuded him.
We must follow him back through lower
and even lower animal forms until all
trace of him is lost in the inorganic
| rocks. After that it remains to discover
the crude material and the builder OF
his birthplace - inchoate matter and
unconscious force. That, we say,
| is the last step of science, for it is
impossible to go any further with.
out postulating divine mind
eternal and unsearchable. Evolution
is essentially process going OF
and therefore can not account for a be-
| ginning. ITO me-" said Leibnitz, ''al;
difficult things are easy, all easy things
are difficult" 1t is not in calculating
eclipses or in deciphering the hero.
glyphics of dead civilization that the
| human mind deals with its most battling
problems; it is in attempting to explain
those things which common sense takes
for granted. A mind trained exclusively
in the realm of secondary causes is toe
apt to be vain-glorious of it's partial tri
umphs and to undervalue the impor'
lance of sentiments inspired by an in
| quiry beyond its accustomed horizon.
Poets like Dante, artists like Michael
Angelo, labor to express higher truth
and live in the exaltation of nobler feel
ings Their art is not a pastime, moi
merely the play of pleasing fancy, il
is a confession of faith and worship
If the artist of to-day would be taken
seriously, he must penetrate the surface
of existence and feel the pressure of It'll
mystery. Painting pretty pictures fol
the decoration of luxurious drawing
rooms, fashioning dainty sonnets to wiz
the admiration of dillettant critics, il
not the sort of employment to awaken
in any soul sense of unseen anG
eternal beauty. Much of what is called
realism, on the other hand, fails because
it has fallen into arid literalness. 1t i!
untrue because it sees only with it,
eyes and hears only with its ears; be
cause it needs to be reinforced with in
sight and sympathy.-N. o. Picayune.