Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1921-01-08
Professor OF English Lit

TT IS said that everybody-that is
L everybody who cares about things Of
the mind--carries about with him some
where, like bunch of keys. certain
definitions which he uses. as occasion
may offer, to unlock the avenues Of
thought or discourse. Sometimes these
keys arc remarkably hard and definite.
good each for one little door and for
nothing else; sometimes they are fewer
in number, adjustable in various locks,
assuming at last, in the truly cultivated
and liberalized, the qualities Of master
key which can open all locks. To vary
the figure, he who does not hold many
Of his defnitions-even of very familiar
things-in solution under advisement,
ready to be adapted to growth In the
world and in himself, will soon be with
out key to unlock anything. There
was time within the memory Of those
still alive when there were grave doubts
in the minds Of many as to whether
Browning was writing poetry or some
thing for which q new name must be
found, or whether the Wagnerian
'cacophony," as some called 1t, was
really music and not something else.
And yet how far have we passed be-
yond oil this in diversified poetry, de-
melodized music and denicotined cigars.
TO carry our denials no further.
DUT It is not along this line that the
- poetry Of Mr.. Masefeld gives us
pause; for no Keats was ever more
enthralled to beauty than is Mr.. Mase-
old devices, often astonishingly and
dariugly developed, is to him as the
apple of his eye. But there is something
more. 1t Is possible to love beauty
selectively and, trusting the eye, choose
only that which is pleasing in theme and
agreeable to dwell on. Mr.. Masefield ia
far more significant artist than this
in his facing Of the realities. in his ac-
ceptance Of subject in its difficulties
to discover the deeper, the more sgnifi L.
cant beauty which it is the function of
the true artist to reveal. The man who
has written of the brutal realities of the
forecastle and the prize fght-as Mr..
Masefeld has written in "Dauber' and
in THE Everlasting Mercy; of sen :
suality and murder itself. as in "The
Widow of the Bye Streets no
effeminate devotee of mere beauty. But
be it noticed that Mr.. Masefeld s
method in all his realism is that of an
artist keenly alive not only to the
obvious outward truth Of line and con
tour, but to that inner truth of the
spirit which is worth all the small arts
Of taste and prettiness rolled into one.
T RECALL a pleasantly disputatious
i friend who carried about with him a
portentous bunch of the keys Of detini-
ton and jingled them incessantly. He
was always getting down to brass tacks
and he usually stayed there. One day
the argument recurred to "Well now
what. after all, is poetry?' and a fam.
Gus old poem on winter became the sub
ject of illustration. In that poem, which
contains that coughing" 1t will be re-
membcred, which drowned the par
SON $ saw" the refrain runs: while
greasy Joan doth keel the pot" an idea
homeiy, familiar and. as the older critics
would have said, ''low." My friend
was willing to accept the word keel
as archaic and, being out Of use. there
fore strange enough to be poetic. Ht
objected to greasy" as descriptive
enough, but unpoetical, and agreed with
the old critics that pot" was simply
"low." Another line of the famous ole
poem really incensed him. 1t runs
"And Marian's nose looks red ant
raw" Was Marian remarkable in this
No. Was it not vividly descriptive
Yes. But then the subject was so un.
poetical. Winter, unpoetical. OBJ