Or make quick-coming death a little thing, The idle singer of an empty day." (P. 1.) Preliminary to what he has to say of the "Earthly Paradise," Mr. Morris first gives us a Lethean draught, and asks us to forget six centuries with their changes and their evidences of progress; then, with a wave of his wand, he sets us down amidst the surroundings of that early age in "A nameless city in a distant sea, White as the changing walls of faërie, Thronged with much people clad in ancient guise." (P. 3.) Next are introduced the chief actors in this weird drama-a band of wanderers who appear in this Grecian city: "The men themselves are shrivelled, bent, and gray; And as they lean with pain upon their spears, Their brows seem furrowed deep with more than years." (P. 4.) An "Elder of the City" addresses them and asks for their story, which they proceed to unfold. They were from Vornay, and many years previously had gone in quest of the "Earthly Paradise." They had visited previously undiscovered lands, and met with many wonderful adventures. These adventures are sufficiently interesting to the reader, though often indicating much hardship imposed upon the wanderers, who, after all their troubles, never found the "Earthly Paradise." Mr. Morris leaves his readers even more in the dark regarding this later Eden than were the characters of his narrative. It is intimated that they knew what they were after-at least we are not given to presume that they were so foolish as to undertake and suffer so much without at least the supposed prospect of an adequate reward. But whatever glorious land they expected to find, what joys they anticipated, Mr. Morris gives us no description, and even no definite hint of them. Regarding this paradisaical realm he leaves us to our imaginations, preferring, it seems, not to attempt to enlighten us with his own. He simply tells us that there is a glorious banquet, but will not even read to us the bill of fare. We are tempted to wish that he had given his book an other name and said nothing about the "Earthly Paradise." Considering, however, not what Mr. Morris promises, or what, at least, we had a right to expect from his title-page, let us consider what he has done. There is first the "Prologue," describing the adventures of the wanderers on their strange quest, and their relation of them to their new hosts. This is introductory to a number of tales which follow, and which are related-as we learn from the "Prologue"-at "two solemn feasts" which were held every month. Accordingly, there follow two tales for every month from March to August, inclusive; those for the remaining months of the year are to be given in the second volume. Those in the volume before us are generally old stories rehashed, such as "Atalanta's Race," "The Story of Cupid and Psyche," "The Love of Alcestis," etc. As stories they are well and simply told. Mr. Morris excels in narrative and in imaginative description. There are some beautiful pictures, of which one may serve as a specimen : k Now the road turned to the left hand Sweet grass, the while the shepherd's song Rang clear as Michael sped along.” (P. 123.) Mr. Morris's style is generally diffuse, and exhibits no effort at concentrated expression; indeed he seems rather to wish to spread his thoughts over as much paper as possible. Consequently there are few quotable passages in the volume-there is very little that one would care to commit to memory. There are some good things, however, of which we consider this one, and wish there were more like it in this and other volumes of verse: "So beautiful and pitiless he went, And toward him still the blossomed fruit-trees leant, And on the boughs the birds forgot to sing." (P. 231.) He is not often thoughtful or tender, but when he does become so we wish that he would think and feel more and write less, persuaded that what he could give us, would he but condense and intensify himself, would be more worthy of his time and ours. We like this: "O Love! this morn when the sweet nightingale That thou hadst slept, and sleep had told his tale; In fragrant dawning of the first of May, The stories, as we have said, are well-conceived as stories. They are, indeed, generally excellent in outline, but lacking somewhat in detail. If there were fewer of them we believe they would be better. We must confess that, on the whole, we prefer Keats's handling and development of the Grecian fables. Keats oftener falls into error than Mr. Morris; but he also flies higher, and has the loftier poetic soul. Mr. Morris is evidently a scholar, and very industrious. We judge that he goes to work to "build the lofty rhyme" with very much of the spirit for painstaking of a market-gardener cultivating a field of cabbages and turnips. He does not wait for inspiration, but generally gets along without it. He is usually correct in language, and tolerably so in versification. Yet he seems, on the whole, to regard quantity rather than quality, and in his haste to complete his appointed tale of rhymes overlooks many obvious imperfections. His language is frequently crude or commonplace, as, for instance: And again: Then answered they indeed That our departing made their hearts to bleed, And somewhat grieved I felt that so it was." (P. 53.) "My lord, the tale Of what came after, none knoweth A charcoal-burner's lad, who said That soon his father would be dead, And that of all things he would have His rights, that he his soul might save." (P. 118.) This is childish, and will not suit the requirements of the present day in what pretends to be poetry, though it would be tolerated in the poets of the era of Chaucer. There are many similar passages which we might quote. Here is one a little more silly: Again: "Now Croesus, lying on his bed a-night, Dreamed that he saw his dear son lying low, By whose hand guided he could nowise know." (P. 340.) "So now will I let these things be And think of some unknown delight." By what psychological power one can think of things unknown we are not informed; the author ought to possess the secret; but if so, we fear he will let it perish with him. His rhymes are often shockingly imperfect, and not "allowable" by the most lax rules of the compilers of rhyming dictionaries. For specimens of such we have, as above quoted, "knoweth" and "death;" on page 95, there are "lieth" and "death," and "king" and "nothing," and on page 328 we find "dazed" and "erased." Many others could be pointed out. Of halting and utterly wretched metre, of which there are too many examples, take this specimen: "A queen I was, what gods I knew I loved, And nothing evil was in my thought." (P. 331.) Mr. Morris's great error is evidently copying too closely the style of Chaucer-its defects as well as its excellences. He forgets that English poetic art, especially as respects versification, has made great advances since that early day. The classical simplicity and directness of Chaucer and other early English writers are very well, but as models of style it would be safer to follow the later poets. At any rate, a mere imitator of early classic models is not up to the requirements of the present age. On the whole, however, we are disposed to consider this volume a creditable one to its author. We are the more inclined to commend him because he so modestly assures us that he has not attempted what he knew he could not accomplish. He is a versifying romancer. Classed among poets, he does not take a high rank; but he is one of the best of later times in his department. He is not a Shelley, a Tennyson, nor a Mrs. Browning. He has not, and does not claim, a keen perception of the highest spiritual truths; he gives the world no new light on social questions; he has no intimate knowledge of the human heart. He has no prevailing sympathy with general humanity; he is not animated, to any lofty extent, by the spirit of love, which makes the greatest poets and most blesses our race; he is not impelled to give us revelations of his inner life, and we feel that he had none such to give that would greatly benefit us. His command of idiomatic English is remarkable. His imagination is vivid, but sensuous. He has an eye for the external forms of beauty, but little perception of their animating spirit. He is no metaphysician, and no humanitarian in any lofty sense. But while he does us no great amount of good, he does us no harm. His dreams are innocent and pleasing, and his garrulous romancing may help to pass some hours which we cannot more profitably employ. EDUCATION. American Philological Society. New-York, November, 1868. In no country does elementary education receive more attention than it does in our own. This is highly commendable; and we hope that the class to whom it is principally due will not relax their efforts in favor of the dissemination of knowledge. This is not sufficient, however; if we wish to rival the great enlightened nations of the Old World in intellectual culture, we must study and investigate as they do. It is idle to deny that we are much behind even the most tardy and backward of them in this respect. The standard of our higher education is far too low; even in our colleges, with few exceptions, no thoroughness is attained. Languages which should be familiar to every college student are read by those of our institutions with as much difficulty as the inscriptions on ancient monuments and coins are read by students of the corresponding grades in the great colleges of Europe. This is no new discovery on our part; we have persistently been urging the fact these nine years past, although quite aware that in doing so we were rendering ourselves quite unpopular with a certain class of professors. We have always thought that, in order to create a taste for the higher grade of education, we must have learned societies worthy of the name not mere societies of mutual admiration, of which we have long had an abundance. There are materials enough for the right kind—at least sufficient to begin with. It now affords us pleasure to inform our readers that the good work has been commenced. As might have been expected from the character of that institution, the initiative has been taken by the University of the City of New-York. Early in November last, Prof. George F. Comfort, of the University, addressed notes to such as were supposed to be in favor of elevating the standard of scholarship in this country, politely inviting them to a meeting to be held in the office of the Chancellor of the New-York University, on November 13th, "to consider the feasibility of organizing and sustaining an American Philological Society." Among others we were favored with an invitation ourselves, and we would most gladly have availed ourselves of it had we not been absent from the city until it was too late to attend. But a learned friend who was more fortunate than ourselves has kindly given us an account of the proceedings. The meet. ing was quite large and interesting—some forty of the leading linguists of this city and vicinity were present; some twenty that had promised to be present sent their regrets at being detained, and some thirty others who could not come had written that they strongly approve of the object of the meeting. This, it will be admitted even by those who are least sanguine, was a good beginning. Dr. Ferris, the Chancellor of the University, having taken the chair made an appropriate and forcible speech, approving the design of the society, and welcoming the meeting to the University. Having been called upon for that purpose, Prof. Comfort then proceeded to give his ideas of a philological society—a task for which he had fully qualified himself by attending the sessions of the principal similar societies of Paris and Berlin, during his recent extended visit to Europe. We may remark, in passing, that all who would succeed in any great enterprise must pursue this course. Enthusiasm is not sufficient even when it is combined with profound theoretical knowledge. Even the great Richelieu did not undertake to lay the foundation of the famous French Academy until he had first travelled and visited every institution from the working of which he might learn any facts that would aid him in forming the outline of his great plan for the encouragement of the higher efforts of the intellect. Nor were the pains thus taken by Prof. Comfort without their effect on the preparatory meeting; after he had presented his views and sustained them by the results of his observation and experience, several short speeches were made approving of the undertaking. Finally, Prof. Comfort was fully authorized to make arrangements for the first meeting, and empowered to call to his aid as large a committee as he might think desirable. We would earnestly urge our educational friends in all parts of the United States to become members of the American Philological Society. Certainly no professor of languages should fail to do so; indeed we do not believe that any qualified professors will hesitate to enroll their names, aware as they must be of the great results that have been accomplished for science by |