The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1914-02-22
a Gentle Mind In PieturesQue En-.
vlrOnments.


A Gentle Mind In Picturesaue En-.
vir0nnents.
City and country scenes are set down
In Barn Doors and Bvcuus, by WALTER
PRIcHARD EATON (Small, Maynard), with
the carefully cultivated sensitlveness to
the "nuances" Of sights and sounds. the
deliberate invocation OF Impressions"
tit to be recorded in dainty speech. that
mark on from other kinds of writing q
certain form of essay always popular
with the large class OF readers who
revel esthetically In large, clear type
generously spaced on fine paper, illus
trated more or less sentimentally lin
this case by Walter King Stone, excel
lently). bound In exquisite gold and
white, and boxed with tender care sug-
gestive OF bijouterie value commensur.
ate with the LUSH terms OF the pub
fishers pun Barndoor landscapes and
memories of rural boyhood; rivers and
roads and New York harbor: the Berk-
shires in winter and summer; Little
Rhody" and the Great Dismal Swamp;
abandoned farms. the wild life" OF the
metropolis. in Central Park and Wash
ington Square: each has It's distinctive
Ha'oi iof the happy rover
Proteus fathered the race OF essayists.
theoretically with circumstantial rea-
son: they are multitoplcal as the lexi-
con. each topic microcosmos as COM
plete and as completely final as any
minutes set Of eternal verities in the
hvdragyr!c mind of any Proteus
OF the progressive" politics. Between
essay and essay you shall trace no link
ing consistency. Conclusions need At
only the immediate premiss. and prem
Uses are assumable arbitrarily. And It
is not immoral to write at page II OF
that great ugly city over there some
where" to think OF Broadway. how II
smells. and the buildings and the
people. and then Harlem and the ugly
miles OF sardine boxes men and women
call home" and a hundred pages on
fall to wondering how We who dwell in
New York can keep so blind an eye for
what magic the town may hold Of
pleasant vista or strange loneliness
Towering In Its dusty ways" and pro-
coed to conjure up tantalizng vlstas Of
metropolitan beauty. Is the country
more or less beautiful than the city?
Can they be compared, any more than
an orange and a shoe. each OF which
may have beauty? But shoes do not
make the mouth water. nor do oranges
comfort the feet. And as one may
yearn now for fruit and again for foot
gear. but seldom has need of both stimuli
taneously, so should the essayist dis
sociate his rus and urbs. But 1t is not
a fighting matter.
The essayist protests against "gush"
about birds. They are "clean, musical
little monogamists," and deserve better
than sloppily sentimental apprecia-
ton. But who that has written OF the
"feathered songsters" ever justified this
parody: II saw three robins, two white
throated sparrows. a red winged black
bird and meadow lark to-day. All
how sweet is Nature, and how good is
God" Envying Thoreau, master Of the
happy epithet, he eXemplifies his own
Zine" Of bird lore with consideration of
the hermit thrush's song, the soul Of
the woods made audible" whereof the
charm Is hut half inherent in the mel
ody and half derived from environment.
the subtle blending Of its pure musical
quality with the peculiar hush and cool
mystery of the deep woods. with the
sombre whisper OF the evergreens, with
the pure. brooding colors OF twilight"
So the birds are classified as OF the
oi'iaiu anu khTueH, Oh the HelO ana
meadow the marshes or the woods. 1t
is comfortable, intimate way to know
the birds.
Other harbors may be more intrin-
sically beautiful than New Yorks but
few are at once so beautiful and 90
multifariously interesting. Mr. Eaton
cites 1.-THE elderly visitor from Shreye-
port. La, who refused to utter any cx-
pressions Of establishment at the SUBJ
way crowds, the East River bridges.
the electric Examinations on the ftial,o.
the multtudinous skyscrapers, but
who stood upon the Battery sea wall
for time watching the harbor, and
then exclaimed with deep feeling, This |
sure is the Shreveport Of the Moth, |
sah!" The harbor Is. indeed, "a per- |
petual wonder and daily a new de- |
light" and It Is a strange thing that |
no American poet has ever composed
its epic.
A visit to the Dismal Swamp--it al
ways used to be Great" Dismal, in con-
sideration Of Its Little" brother to the
"a secret passion" of
many years standing. The great
swamp was found by the pilgrim from
the North not dismal" at all but fasci-
mating Tom Moore and Mrs. Stowe