Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1894-02-22

"Soi 1 like that. You won't make
me call you Miss Gray. will you? But
mustn't ask so many questions. Only
want you to see Fred
She left the room, returning in min.
ute or two with her brother. l was soon
upon social terms with him. He closely
resembled his father-had the same light
curling hair, calm gray eyes and ex.
pressive lips. He was not so talkative
as Carrie; he was more thoughtful and
reserved, more observing and less i'm
pulsive.
l was in due time thoroughly installed
in my new home. had much to bless
my heavenly father for; my lines were
cast in pleasant places. The summer
went by, and the winter, in the same
quiet, steady, happy way. But do not
intend to speak about my duties at Alb
ernthney Hall, my tutorship of those
lovely children, and how in beautifying
their lives my own grew beautiful. 1t
is with the new awakening, the new Ell
Dorado of my companionship, my init
macy with the rector. that / have to do.
He was standing at one of the win
dows on the morning that Mr.. Ashley
introduced me to him. He turned round,
NODDED gravely and then gazed out of
the window as abstractedly as before.
was not piqued at that am not proud
and $50 my friends tell me) put too low
an estimate upon myself. Though his
survey of me was not leisurely one,
knew that he had already OWNED as
much of my life and character as less
| penetrating man would have learned in
a week. 1t took me that long to engage
him even in the most incidental CONVEX
sation.
He was sedate, even tempered man.
He was often given to fits of absent
mindedness, and from this / learned that
there was some great sorrow in his SOUL
1t was only in the pulpit that he proved
himself more than an ordinary man. He
was an analytical reasoner, subject to
bursts of the most captivating eloquence
and strong in the yearning for the saliva
ton of his fellow men. The light seemed
TO go out of his eyes and the spiritual
glory out of his face so soon as he de-
scended from the pulpit. Few stepped
into the aisles to grasp him by the hand,
they simply bowed their heads with the
memory of the recently spoken words of
truthfulness in their souls and sort of
sympathy for the secret sorrowfulness
which raised him above the plane of
their compan;onship.
But there came "a time when he took a
deeper interest in me; when his eyes
would neglect his book to follow me
around the room; when he would meet
me with nosegay, or ask me to stroll
with him through the gardens. found
him more agreeable companion than
had supposed him to be. He would come
out of that half dreamy lethargy in
which he seemed to sit and converse as
If he thought and felt like other men.
must say that he even became commu-
NEGATIVE. He spoke less reservedly and
less spasmodically. At first l conversed,
and he listened, but by degrees and un-
consciously. as it were, our positions be-
came reversed. Then it was that stood
upon the confines Of the new Ell Dorado
in the world Of thought. 1t was some
thing grand to sit at his feet, quiet,
impressible pupil.
l must say it sooner or later, and so l
will say it now. l loved him! Yes,
warmly, fervently, passionately. I did |
not know whether my love was recipro-
Gated, neither did I care The knowl- |
edge of the deep love in my own heart
was enough for me to dwell upon az any
one time. To be sure, his eyes at times
warmed up with beautiful light, and
he would exhibit the most earnest solici-
tude for a temporary ache or illness,
but beyond this observed nothing. He
did not speak of love. What I had no
ticed might have been merely occasioned
by his strong friendship for me.
was one day reading Goethe's "Dich-
tung und Wahrheit" Poetry and TRUTH.
Mr.. jackson observed the work in my
hands.
sis Goethe favorite of yours?" he
asked.
Very much SO" replied.
''Eis works have never been faithfully
translated, and least of all the one you
are now reading. 1t is not even second
banded. 1t is what Mrs. Austin called
"a bad translation of very bad French
translation Two elements enter into
every translation-the author and the
translator. Thus, Hoole's 'Ariosto' is
nearer to Hoole than to Ariosto. So in
Popes Homer The Greek is nothing.
The Englishman everything. Transla-
lions have been called pressed flowers.
If you want to enjoy Goethe in all his
frpShnnss opd froUronca vo,, ,,,,,S+ ,,o IN | /
he original. In NO other way will you &
De able thoroughly to appreciate him."
"Do you understand German, Mr.. i
Iackson?' asked c
Il have been told that am a perfect t
master of the language. have Goethes
FORKS in my library. You must study
German" }
Well, mastered German. The study
vas a pleasure and recreation. | Il
aught the inspiration from the very q
ips, as it were, of Goethe and Heine and
chiller. | learned, too, the truthful r
ess Of Coleridge's definition of genius a
hat it consists in carrying ON the feel v
ngs of the child into maturer years. 1
len Of true genius give themselves up U
D the first simple impressions of com .
ION things. They are content to won V
er and smile and admire, just as they
id when they were children. 1t is the
pening of the heart to all sweet infiu- y
noes. i
We are not called upon to write poetry T.
II angels or saints, but for men-for i,
len who work and think and suffer q
e who is to photograph humanity must n
least be able to stand on a common h
vel with it and by his many sympa- s,
lies enrich his special experience with ii
] that is universal. Poetry is the mu- /,
C of truth, and let it come through q,
hat medium it may it is always mu- "
cal while it is true. Or
But that literary feast also became "
Liebesmahl." To conjugate the verb Of
TO love" in that rich, full, sonorous dia- d.
ct was less easy than to give it real OF
y, an active transitiveness. learned 10
love the German, but Mr.. jackson. lii
e rector, more. p