The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1900-12-16
LEARNED LECTURES
To YOUNG LADIES
At st. Mary's and the Bap-
tist University.
"RGMANCE IN HISTORY
Literary Likings" and Some File
Things From Literature.
Or. HUFAAM AND PROF. sLEDD, LECTURE
The Young Women Heard With Delight and
Heartily the Speakers. A Feature Of
College Life That is Becoming
DeseryedIy Popular.

DeSeIfeuIJ OPu'Ms
Prof. Sledd's lecture on Literary
Likings" at the Baptist Female Uni
versity last night was treat. 1t was
principally a plea for similar appre-
citation of the beauties that are i'll lit
cratpre, and less of the looking for
symbolism and lessons of culture.
Poetry should idealize some fact of
human interest.
After very harmonious introduc-
ton, in which the speaker explained
how small he felt at the prospect of
making the address, he went on to dis
cuss the problem: How to live-how to
die. Fortunately only one of these
problems needs to be solved. For If
we live well, that other, the master
knot of human life, will solve itself.
Indeed l fear we make too much pot
ter about this sorry, this necessary.
matter of dying; for after all OF how
little moment are the best of us. But
perhaps we are something more than
pebble cast into the boundless Seven
Sees of Eternity. Let us rather be-
lieve, with old Wordsworth, that, some
how we men, though we must vanish,
still are greater than we
know And it is just this deathless
thirst after Immortality which has
been the guiding dream in all mortal
greatness. The physiciast is by our
side telling us mind and matter are
one, the biologist telling us we are
but a higher order of the brute, and,
a. 1. oh sr,c 10
OF all this, we turn away instinctively
from the reality with it's dust and
ashes
And build ourselves we know not
what.
OF second life, we know not where"
"Then if Immortality has been the
guiding dream of humanity, the
poets have been it's professors. / be-
lieve that the highest and noblest gift
OF God to man is that indescribable
something which we call by the much
abused name of poetry Now, we
may boldly say that poetry is the
truest and most beautiful expression
of religion itself. When l speak of the
glories of poetry, let me warn you
that / have in mind solely the study
aud reading of IL. God forbid that |
should encourage anyone to add to
the present abundant supply of sorry
verse. When / glance over the ever In
creasing host of yerse-makers and
sonneteers, / must cry out in the
words of Pope:
why do they write?
Whose crime vast, their parents, or
their own,
Dipped them in ink
"One prevalent opinion would seem
to- be that poetry is something too rare
and good for human natures daily
food. On the contrary, poetry is of all
human things the most intensely hui
man, and the true poet. while he may
make the lark sing hymns at heavens
gates, never forgets that the little sim
ger is hymning not to the clouds, but
to that warm nest hidden among
earth's daises. We must admit that
when Shelley himself transcends the
bonds of human interest, we close our
hearts to his wonderful music. 1t is
a pity people don't read more of the
real human poetry. We read such
sloppy stuff as David HarIlm. 1t is
sign of decadence that we can put up
with it. But parts of Paradise Lost
seem to me to be almost too great for
the human mind to grasp. can't
read them. My imagination flags and
droops. When Milton tries to give us
the conversation of Father and Son,
we find even those sonorous periods
flat and stale, and in our hearts we can
but imagine what it would be if we
should have to listen to this sort of
stuff through all eternity. There is
certainly better poetry in 'tother
place. 1t is the same with Dante. The
Paradise, with it's endless depths o!
white-robed seraphs singing the one
eternal song of songs, with its glory
on glory far withdrawn into that CEN
trail insufferable radiance, all this be-
comes at times 50 cold. so ethereal, that
l hurry down for a glimpse of the
good old brown earth. Nay. ! prefei
infinitely the Inferno, with all its hor-
rors' for its murky air, filled though
il is with those shrill lamentations, is
still something of the earth. And how
human are the pictures that here fash
upon us Francesca's tale of love and
hate, the most beautiful and touching
love story ever told.
at is like the story of Kueller when
ho was dying, and Pope tried to com
fort him with the hope of another life
The poor fellow looked out on the
busy streets and lnurmured: All. Mr.
Pope, | wish the Lord would let me
live on here in London" Prof. Sledd
then quoted from Rossetti's Blessed
Damosel and sonnet by Lee Hamil-
ton, as interpreting this earth-hunger.
"This love of the human enters no
less into that most mortal of all NOR
tai things. the selection of our wives.
Now. ] don't believe any of us would
marry an angel. no matter what he
may say to the dear one. But
we must not confuse the old earth
flavor OF true poetry with realism, as
the latter term is now used in the lit
erary iargon. Poetry is as far re-
moved from realism as the East is
from the West. The poet takes real
ity and ideaIizes ii in the clear mirro.
of his soul. Poetry is as far removed
from, science as ii is from realism.