The Anaconda standard. [volume] (Anaconda, Mont.) 1889-1970, 1899-04-02

pushed to the Sr0teSQue. 9but from the
depths it brings the pearls of truth. A
convict becomes holier than the SAINT,
a prostitute purer than the nun. This
book fills the gutter with the glory of
heaven, while the waters of the sewer
reflect the stars.
In 'Ariadne' you find the aroma of
all art. 1t is a classic dream. And
there too, you will find the hot blood of
full and ample life. Ouida is the great
est living writer of fiction Some of
her books do not like. If you wish to
know what Ouida really is, read Wan
da, The Dog of Flanders The Leaf
In Storm. In these you will hear the
beating of her heart.
Most of the novelists of our time
write good stories. They are ingenious,
the characters are we'll drawn but they
lack life, energy. They do not appear
to act for themselves, impelled by inner
force. They seem to be pushed and
pulled. The same may be said of the
poets. Tennyson belongs to the latter
half of our century. He was undoubt-
edly great writer. He had no flame
or storm, no tidal wave nothing vol
can1c. He never overlooked the banks.
He wrote nothing as intense, as noble
and pathetic as the Prisoner of Chill
lon; nothing as purely poetic as The
skylark; nothing as perfect as the
'GEecian Urn. and yet he was one of
sides he was far greater than Shelley,
far nobler than Keats. In a few poems
Shelley reached almost the perfect, but
many are weak. feeble, fragmentary,
almost meaningless. So Keats in three
poems reached a great height-in st.
Agnes Eve The Grecian Urn. and
The Nightingale'-but most of his
poetry is insipid, without thought,
beauty or sincerity.
I'VE have had some poets ourselves.
Emerson wrote many poetic and philos-
ophic lines. He never violated any
rule. He kept his passions under con-
troll and generally kept off the grass
But he uttered some great and SPLEEN
did truths and sowed countless seeds
of suggestion. When we remember that
he came of a line of New England
preachers we are amazed at the
breadth, the depth and the freedom of
his thought.
poems. elemental, natural-poems that
seem to be part of nature, ample as
the sky, having the rhythm of the tides,
the swing of a planet.
'Whitcomb Riley has written poems
| Of hearth and home, of love and labor
worthy of Robert Burns. He Is the
sweetest strongest singer in our coun-
try and I do not know his equal in any
| land.
But when we compare the literature
of the first half of this century with
| that of the last, we are compelled to
say that the last, taken as a whole, is
best. Think of the volumes that science
has given to the world. In the first
| half of this century sermons. orthodox
sermons, were published and read.
| Now. reading sermons is one of the
last habits. Taken as a whole the lit
| erature of the latter half Of our century
| is better than the first I like the es-
e Tx,-C
| clear, so logical that they are poetic.
| Herbert Spencer is not simply instruc-
| tive. he is charming. He is full Of true
! imagination. He is not the slave of
| ina gtnation Imagination is his SER
want. Huxley wrote like trained
swordsman. His thrusts were never
| parted He had superb courage He
| never apologized for having an opinion
There was never on his soul the stain
| of evasion. He was as candid as the
| truth. Haeckel is a great writer be-
| cause he reveres fact. and would not
| for his life deny or misinterpret one.
| He tells what he knows with the can
| dor of a child and defends his conclu-
sions like scientist, philosopher. He
| stands next to Darwin.
| Coming back to fiction and poetry
| have great admiration for Edgar Faw-
cett. There is in his poetry thought,
beauty and philosophy He has the
| courage of his thought. He knows our
| language. the energy of verbs the coloq
of adjectives. He is in the highest sense
an artist. I think Kipling is a man of
| real genius. He has the freedom of
winds and waves, and he knows the
! heart of man..
| Colonel Ingersoll is inclined to make
merry over Mr. Gaines wooing of the
| clergy by means of the sock and
| buskin. He was asked:
| hn do ,i,,Jy g Io1 ~os,
recent efforts to bring about a closer
union between the stage and pulpit?''
| "Of course said Colonel Ingersoll, IT
am not certain as to the intentions of
Mr. Caine. l saw The Christian and
| it did not seem to me that the author
was trying to catch the clergy. There
| is certainly nothing in the play calcu-
lated to please the pulpit. There is a
clergyman who is pious and heartless
! John Storm is the only Christian, and
he is crazy. When Glory accepts him
| at last you not only feel but you know
that she has acted the fool. The lord
| in the piece is dog and the real gen
tleman is the chap that runs the music
hall. How the play can please the pull
pit do not see. Storms whole career
| is failure. His followers turn on him
| like wild beasts. His religion is di-
| vine and diabolical dream. With him
murder is one of the. means of saliva
|
a singing blow between the eyes. He
| has put two preachers on the stage,
one a ,heartless hypocrite and the other
| a mailman. Certainly ] am not preju-
diced in favcr of Christianity. and yet
| I enjoyed the play. If Mr. Caine says
that he is trying to bring the stage and
the pulpit together, then he is a humor-
| list, with the humor of Rabelais."
| what do recent exhibitions in this
! city of scenes from the life of Christ in
dictate with regard to the tendencies of
! modern art ?'
Nothing. Some artists love the SOM
| bre, the melancholy, the hopeless. They
| enjoy painting the bowed form, the
| tear-filled eyes. To them grief is a fes-
| tival. There are people who find pleas
ure in funerals. They love to watch the
! mourners. The falling clods make mu-
sic. They love the silence, the heavy
| odors, the sorrowful hymns and the
! preachers remarks. The feelings of
! such people do not indicate the general