The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1911-11-03
BY ESTHER GRIFFIN WHITE.

Shakespeare and Milton and Byron
and Scott and Keats and Browning
even Browning and I.ongfrllow,
Whittier. Emerson. possibly. Bryant,
Lowell-all names famlIar-''housc-
hold words"
Better known by reputation and &C
ceptance than literally, perhaps.
Still quotations from many of these
poetic writer's are so a part OF CONVEX
satiOnal barter and exchange, or so
much a portion OF that general in1Or-
nation supposed to be current in the
average civilized community, that their
non-rccORnitiOn would cause mild sur
prise.
Henry Van Dyke, in a recent article,
states, in effect, that the diss"cting OF
great literary masterpieces III IN"
classroom Is death to the inculCatlon
OF love, or even liking. for their fur
Their pcrusal. That TO put them under
the microscope and cOldly separate
them into their component parts re-
cults in repulsion.
There Is truth in this.
Don't you remember how you de-
tested "liamlet' after hearing and see
ing it neatly skinned day after day, its
anatomy marshaled and labeled, its
blood drained off and it's beauty de-
stroycd?
And "Thanatopsis"- that noble
poem?
Did you ever read il after YOU left
school where you assisted in cutting
It up into "mcaning' and 'construc-
ton" where you stated what roditied
what and whether, in your opinion 1t
should be classified as such and such
or as so and so.
Possibly not.
Henry Van Dyke. one of the most
celebrated teachers OF English, Of lit
erature and bellies lettres in this
country, describes his own profession,
after "a fashion.
But this is not what was intended to
have been said
II we are all more or less familiar
with the masters-Of those who are
generally thus denominated although
some OF the so-callCd masters are
often merely facile writer's of poetic
platitudes or of commonplace senti-
brilliant poetic meteors which now
and then flash across the literary sky.
Richard Realf, in instance.
Realf was one Of those creatures Of
fire and passion and untamed impulse
OF violent infatuations and fiercer re-
pulsions, Of exquisite spiritual refine
ments, OF despairing graspings after
the ideal, Of glamours and unbelieva-
BILE grossnesses, of love and longing
and hideous excursions into the con-
ventions OF life-a being not intended
for this world.
II was not intended for this world
and l do not know that there is an
other said a certain witty French
lady.
Whether or not Realf believed there
was another in which his sufferings
would be assuaged. certainly his ca
reer in this was an unhappy one.
Geniuses cannot be judged by the
ordinary rules Of conduct.
People sheer at the artistic tenn
permanent"
But it exists although overworked
by daubers and dabblers. Those ours
possession are apart. They need new
er expect to be understood
They are crucified on the cross OF
daily commonplaces.
And the nails are hammered in by
that great company called the aver
age"
Reaff was a newspaper man, was
the victim of drink and drugs, was
married several times without the ben
eft OF the divorce court and perform
ed general social devastation.
And he wrote his experiences with
pen dipped in blood.
He was poet of marvellous facility
in versification. OF exquisite imagery,
OF wonderful human appeal. His pas
sions were Of the widest. his ardours
OF the intensest He threw the color
on the canvas in big, compelling
splotches as in a poem called Pas
sion
Il clench my arms about your neck,
The knucklcs of my hands grow
white with pain,
And my swollen muscles CULVER
with the strain,
And all the pulses OF my life stand
still
say Clench so. All! you cannot
tear
Yourself away from my immortal grip
or forlorn tenderness and sad de
SPAR.
And childlikr Borrowing after fellow
ship.