The sun., 1916-12-24
By N Mcbride.

~
mouth. Just going out Of sight-though
going u OF sight In itself has a
peculiar charm"
EMILY DICKINSON. " a letter to a friend.
THE remarkable sister to the
brother whose hair was the
color Of Vinnie's cat said once
ln . moment Of dependency. Life is
20 constructed that the event does not.
cannot match the expectation" Char
lotte Bronte was wrong. I have just
returned from q morning visit to the
Winter Academy. my thoughts are all
in Q whirl, but I know that Charlotte
Bronte vas wrong.
The remark Is not dated. Possibly
she wrote It In her early bitter youth.
Certainly size did not write II late In
life, for Charlotte Bronte did not live
- taste the pleasures Of old age. And
certainly she could not have written II
after she had fallen In love. for though
all Of her biographers are excessively
discreet upon the point It Is generally
accepted that hers was a love match.
Her genius was so intuitive. how
ever. that II really Is remarkable that
slso eve denied the roundness Of hu-
man experience. even for a moment.
There arc depressions Of the spirit. as
Candids and his friend Cacambo
testify to. that extinguish the facul-
tee. and hers must have been under
some such temporary eclipse. There
r youths. nevertheless. who divine
- ages triumphs. for I have met
such and talked with them.
recall one Of my experiences OF
many years ago. I had then the honor
of directing a life class In q rather large
art school. and as most Of the young
men composing II were exceedingly
competent and quite capable OF going
for long stretches Of time without as
slStance I frequently read to them
from the masters az they worked. The
author. upon the occasion I have In
mind, was Walt Whitman. and the
poem I was reading. I opened upon Il
ct hazard. was when Lilacs Last In
~ Dooryard Bloomed."
Before giving them the death
Carol" I vouchsafed a few dull remark,
to the effect that I took the "Deatf
Carol" simply as music, majestic
music II you will, but only that. A.
that period l was SO young myself ano
20 full Of health that I could MOI
suffer any one, not even Walt Whit
man. to mention the word death" ir
my presence. However. I read then
the i~mperishable lines:
Gene. lovely mud soothing Death.
URdwlato round tho ,rorid. serencly ar
rtvtn0. arriving.
N tAe day, IN the night. to all. to each,
Sooner or Iatcr, delicate Death.
ovsr the freetops I float thee a song!
Over the rSsing and sinking rdpes-ove,
the myriad felds, and the prdtrte'
sctde;
Own the dense packed cities all. and IN,
teemin0 pharves inc pdys.
Z float this carol 10TH JOY, Nth joy I,
thee, o Death!
From a Swallowed corner Of tn,
studio n young fellow broke the 81
Ience that followed the reading b.
aying with an ardent voice and fam
ing eyes: II disagree with YOU I'm!
pupils were always disagreeing will
me, but ! never minded ~. II dis
agree with you. I think 1t Is no
only beautiful music but beautiful
truth"
recall glazing at the in%terrupte
coldly. for I thought he was simpl.
trying to be smart. al young me
win; but since then. Of course. I hav,
seen that he was right. My own tai
ents. whatever they may be. are Ger
calmly not intuitive. I had to becom
old to realize that age has its com
pensations.
Edward Carpenter. the Englis'
philosopher, has lately been telling u
how life at 70" feels. He says:
people feel kindly toward you
partly because they consider yo'
harmless and not likely to injur
them. partly because they are not en-
vious Of your condition. They pit
you q little In fact-which please
them and does no harm to you.
people are good enough In fact the
are compelled-to speak up an
speak distinctly. They have tn
pleasure Of helping me over my deaf
ness, and I have the satisfaction Q
getting them out Of their mumblin
habits Of conversations satisfaction
90 great that were I really not q b
deaf l feel that I should have to pre-
tend to be-"
But the passage with which Car
penter closes his autobiography ha
. quite sublime combination of Char
lotte Bronte's wicked speech. and
A-s.A AL-A Ill ALA .--l