The herald., 1897-08-08


I die and know not when;
wonder that l am so gay.
+
IMMORTALITY AS A MOTIVE IN
POETRY.-Mr. Francis Howard Will
Jams. in Poet Lore, urges that there
would have been little poetry but fol
the sense of immortality in the hear
of the poet. He claims, too, that Wall
Whitman stood for personality and i'm
mortality more completely than any othel
American poet, as this closing extract
from the article will show:
Even among his avowed disciples
there are those who express doubts as
to his views concerning personal i'm
mortality and spiritual being; whereas
the entire scheme of his work is buildec
upon the eternal supremacy of the ind'-
vidual and the indestructibility of the
human soul Even in those poems which
superficial readers have regarded as
grossly material and indelicate may be
found a symbolism of the deepest spir-
itual significance and import. Whitman
once said to a close friend:
"I have been trying all my life to
say one thing. and the public has in
sisted all my life that have been try
ing to say another. 1 know what have
tried to do. But my failure to make
some people understand what l have
tried would seem to show that have
only comparatively succeeded, if sue
ceeded at all Or perhaps my public has
not come. If stand for anything at all
1t is not the meat and drink we taste
but the foodstuffs of the unseen life;
yes, that only real life, which explains
gives their only certitude, to these days
hours, the earth, all our sprawling and
bawling-is what alone untangles the
knot we call life into a clear thread, the
immortal
''Whitman's work will live, because
Immortality is its motive and I be-
leve we may safely conclude that, in
the final computations of posterity, only
such art will endure as shall have been
moved by faith in the immortal to a
steadfast contemplation of the unaging
face of beauty"
SUMMER BOOK SALES.-There is
something of an improvement over last
summer in the book trade, if we may
trust the reports Of sales in the different
cities heard from. Not only do all the
favorites sell little more readily than
last year, but in general lines there is
the same improvement, slight it is true,
but still something of gain.
The character of the summers output
is not of the highest, most of the new
things being new editions rather than
new works. And herein lies one of the
disheartening and demoralizing features
of book publishing. So many alleged
new books are only old ones put forth in
new names that buyers and sellers must
be constantly on their guard. This is
true of all classes of books, but mainly,
of course, of the cheaper grades, like
what we call the summer novels. The
cheats in these ways are very provok-
ing.
THE AMERICAN FOREsTs.-The
forests Of America, says John Muir in
the August Atlantic, however sighted
by man, must have been great delight
to God; for they were the best He ever
planted. The whole continent was a
garden, and it seemed to be favored from
the beginning above all the other wild
parks and gardens of the globe. To
prepare the ground, it was rolled and
sifted in seas with infinite loving de-
Liberation and forethought, lifted into
the light, submerged and warmed over
and over again, pressed and crumpled
into folds and ridges, mountains and
hills, subsoiled with heaving volcanic
fires. ploughed and ground and sculp-
tured into scenery and soil with glaciers
and rivers-every feature growing and
changing from beauty to beauty, higher
and higher. And in the fullness of time
1t was planted in groves, and belts, and
the largest, most varied, most fruitful,
and most broad, exuberant, mantling
forests, with beautiful trees in the world.
Bright seas made its border with wave
embroidery and icebergs; magnificent
deserts were outspread in the middle of
it, messy tundras on the north, savan-
mas on the south, and blooming prairies
and plains; while lakes and rivers
shone through all the vast forests and
openings alike, and happy birds and
beasts gave delightful anima ton. Ev-
erywhere, everywhere over all the
blessed continent, there was beauty, and
melody, and kindly, wholesome. foodful
abundance.
In the settlement and civilization OF
the country, however bread more than
timber or beauty was wanted; and in the
blindness of hunger, the early settlers
claiming heaven as their guide, regarded
Gods trees as only larger kind of per-
nicious weeds extremely hard to get
rid Of. Accordingly, with no eye to the
future, these pious destroyers waged in
terminable forest wars. chips flew thick
and fast, trees in their beauty fell crash
ing by millions, smashed to confusion
and the smoke of their burning has been
rising to heaven more than two hundred
years. After the Atlantic coast from
Maine to Georgia had been mostly
cleared and scorched into melancholy
ruins, the everfiowing multitude of bread
and money seekers poured over the ALLIE
ghanies into the fertile middle west
spreading ruthless devastation ever
wider and further over the rich valley
of the Mississippi and the vast shadowy
pine region about the great lakes
Thence still westward the invading
hordes. of destroyers called settlers made
its way over the broad Rocky mountains.
telling and burning more fiercely than
ever. until at last it has reached the wild
side of the continent and entered the
last of the great boriginal forests on the
shores OF the Pacific.-John Muir in the
August Atlantic.
~ Mrs. Oliphant's Devoted Life-The