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And then follows Coleridge's own account of love, of which it can only be said, that, if he had written it when he was younger, it would probably have been as perfect in form and expression as it is inclusive in what we might call the categories of love :
“Coleridge. — But, above all, it supposes a soul which, even in the pride and summer-tide of life, even in the lustihood of health and strength, had felt oftenest and prized highest that which age cannot take away, and which, in all our lovings, is the love. “ Eliza.
There is something here (pointing to her heart) that seems to understand you, but it wants the word that would make it understand itself.
“ Katherine. — I too seem to feel what you mean. Interpret the feeling for us.
Coleridge. — I mean that willing sense of the unsufficingness of the self for itself which predisposes a generous nature to see, in the total being of another, the supplement and completion of its own,
- that quiet, perpetual seeking which the presence of the beloved object modulates, not suspends, where the heart momently finds, and, finding, again seeks on ; — lastly, when 'life's changeful orb has passed the full,' a confirmed faith in the nobleness of humanity, thus brought home and pressed, as it were, to the very bosom of hourly experi
When you have read this, you feel that it is correct, and even affecting. But yet
« What wants that knave
That a king should have ?" something is wanted, and in that something everything!
The recent discussions about the Talmud have disclosed a depth of benightedness in society, even among men whom you might expect to know better, that is extremely irritating, if not surprising. Surprising, indeed, it is not; for it is only the old difference between seeing and not seeing which everlastingly divides men and women. All the talent is nothing, and all the culture is nothing; do
e ? is the question. To descend to a trivial illustration. A reviewer, not very long ago, attacked a preface written by Dr. Johnson, upon the hypothesis that it was written by Dr. Latham. It was said, and it might well have been true, that the reviewer was a learned and accomplished man. Nothing more likely; yet a child of seven, with the sensibility which he lacked, would not have fallen into his error, or any error of a similar kind. To take another illustration. There are millions of people, including men of great learning and piety, who seem absolutely blind to the difference between the Christ of the Latin imagination and the childlike Christ of the Teutonic imagination.
But to return to Love and the Talmud. Every one will remember the exultation (surprising to those who are familiar with their Apocrypha as well as with their Bible) with which certain Talmudic deliverances about women were received when the article of M. Deutsch appeared in the Quarterly Review. “What becomes now of the Teutonic origin of the household virtues?” asked an able pen in the
Pall Mall Gazette. Whoever has said that the household virtues were of Teutonic origin has talked non
But the question as to Love, between the Western spirit and the Oriental or Semitic spirit, has nothing to do, one way or the other, with the household virtues. Let us try and see what really it is.
Many of our readers probably know Miss Dora Greenwell as the author of some tender poetry and some thoughtful prose. She is a perfectly orthodox writer, as anybody who has read her “ Two Friends”
must be aware. She has also written a set of poems of the soppet type, entitled "Liber Veritatis." There is a series of tenderly passionate love poems, not on a level with Mrs. Brown ing's Portuguese gonnets either in the passion or the poetry, but quite real and true. Their author must know something of what love Teally is. Now, in the little book called "Two Friends”-which, as we bave stated, is strictly orthodox- Dora Green well boldly says that love is not to be found at all in tbe New Testament. "The silence of the New Testament is a wonderiul thing.'
Not at all wonderful say we, for love is utterly alien to the Oriental or Semitic spirit. The curious thing is that Miss Greenwell does not go on to remark that love is also wholly wanting in the New Testament.' And, the reason is the same. Love considered as a passion, or the desire to possess something beautiful; love as bousehold friendship, with special regard shown to the weaker by the stronger; and love, as mere appetite (appetite, we say, as distinguished from passion), you find in Semitic and Oriental writings; but there is no room in the Semitic or Oriental spirit (even though it were sbown that ebivalry itself came from the Arab) for love of the highest type known to the Western mind.
In the first place, reading writers like Tieck and Fouque we become conscious of a peculiar and inscrutable, but deeply fascinating, purity of atmosphere-a purity which is so childlike that it permits free reference to topics which to the Latin or Celtic intelligence are inclosed in company withy topics relating to the accidents of nutritionnever-failing sign of the non-Teutonic spirit.
There are love-passages in Tieck and in Fonque which could not be read aloud in a mixed circle in England; there are two sec. tences in Undine (the last of Chapter VII, and the second of Chapter VIII) wbich are omitted in some of the English translations. But can any thing be more childlike, pure, or more near to beaven? And yet it is utterly foreign to the Eastern or Semitic spirit. That spirit always finds the woman an inferior and unclear nature, She is subjected. She is the temptress. She has to be purified.". Among the Hebrews the motber of a girl had to undergo a quarantine of twice the lenith appointed to the mother of a boy (Levit. xii, 5, and Rev. xiv, 4). And, wbatever modifications this way of looking at women uudergoes it is never (we speak advisedly) wholly absent from Oriental or Semitic writings. The Teutonic way of thinking of a woman is just the reverse, thus far.
Nоr aoeE Uде атпегеnсе ера пеге.
11 18 worin while, in these contused and acteristic points in the Teutonic or Scandina- fusing days, to recall the highest meaning vian ideal, are two. First, the balance between the word "love;" poc is it unnecessary the sexes is restored by the fact that the woman place it alongside of the make-shifts and is beld to be the power by which the spiritual counterfeits wbich pass for it in life or in impregnation of the man is effected; so that tion. The novelists, as a rule, seem to love is not or ly a liberal education, but, in the lost all power of painting, or even hin high sense, a conversion, and the creation of a what it is! Charlotte Bronte knew someti moral or spiritual unity out of two, in a way about it. So does Mr. Charles Kingsley. wbich places the woman on a throne peculiarly does George Eliot. So does Mrs. Oliph hers. Secondly, the woman is never pog. And there are others. sessed, and never patronized. "What is thy pe- But both in lile and in fiction we usually tition, Queen Esther, and what is thy request? presen!ed to us for love, mere longing-at and it shall be done io thee, even to tbe half of wbich brit gs no sense of obligation in it my kingdom." That is the Eastern or Semitic and is therelore shoved aside for the most Epirit. Above all, absolute possession in the grading rearone. If love be all that novu sense of mastery is essential to that spirit, and land moralists in general make of it, the is never absent from it. But what a difference 'assuredly no reason whatever why the when we come to Scandinavian legends, even te muptible things which are allowed to in of the rudest times! When King Gunther has fere with it should not do so. It is in fact, married Brunhilda, he not whit nearer. -"Cette fiere beaute," a worth making novels about; certainly Frencbman ludicrously calls her (missing the worth makiny plems about.
But it is point like a true Celt), teaches King Gunther ficiently plain that the buman heart has å lesson:
ineradicable suspicion or presentment of so "When I thought her love to gain, she bound me as thing better than what it is 80 frequently her thrall,
off with. That something better-more tl Unto a nail she bore me, and hang me on the wall," the strongest desire, more than the strong And it is only by "magic that King Gunther attachment, and more than the most peri finally conquers, and makes his bride yield up bousehold virtue—may be a flower that blog ber girdle. These two points-the woman is only once in a hundred years; but never to be possessed
the time come to disbelieve that it ever d 7 "She's not and never can be mine,"
bloom? Or to pretend that you can pick it and that she is in herself (not as consecrated, in the streets, or find it by merely looking but in herself) pure and divine, and the source it, or grow it like mustard and ur ess? 8. of moral impregnation to the man, are of the deny that it is the flower which to have ga essence of the Teutonic or true Western idea of ered and wern is (not to put the case too hig love. By making a moral unit of two beings, as much as to have made a lot et money, or this involves not only monogamy, but (as an
verted a new pill? idea) perpetnal monogamy. It involves, also,
There was once a footman who, haviog hes the highest type of self-sacrifice—the finest il- bis mistress describe the upper, middle a lustration of its action in this respect' being to lower classes as china, delf and crockery, ! be found in the legend of Helmfrid, told in being then told to bid the nursemaid bri Fouque's "Thidoli the Icelander":
down young master for a visitor to see, call S'If yours you seek, not her delight,
out to her, "Hallo, Crockery, bring down lit Surely a dragon and strozg tower
Chaney!” The irony was not bad, but we d Guards the true lady in her bower."
not allow crockery love to flout the love levand it also involves heroism, of heroism, of whatever
which is porcelain, much less the love which kind, in the man:
opal. All the loves are affiliated; but it is 100.Yon love? That's high as you shall go;
more true tbat, just because we are all hum For 't is as true as Gospel text,
Zeke Hickory bole's love was like the love Not roble then is never si,
Pericles, than it is true that the poor bee Neither in this world nor the next."
that we tread upon in corporal sufferance fe Mr, Tennyson has not shown the deepest pos
a pang as great as when a giant dies. U sible ser se of what love is, but bere he is (as evening Zeke was found to have chalked he would not fail to be) at one with the highest bis bed's head this simple rbyme: idea of it, for he makes King Arthur say:
"My love, she is my heart's delight,
Her Dame it is Miss Betsy;
I'll go and see her this very night
at This is pot quite satisfactory, and the wora?M səPBL Zano. we have omitted, “courtliness and the desirl! PUB MOL AJəa şuado 7SIBA Pdogo of fame," are least satisfactory of all. If iz any tbing to make a man careless of "fame'up OJOM JOf Pasa UəUM "Oliqua
bel it is surely love. It is the one thing which dis- əffəstəqa B UM 708118 par ago
Da and good, ard confers the turquois thataq dəJBƏjjo ed uBiBaddo aq sali closes, for once and forever, that which is real 109 '1701101-?wap Jof. 19800199
pis changes color when a lie is in the atmosphere. MOJIBU TU1M BO!PB[ 07 8!41 puan;
iti Now, fame is the paltriest of cheats and the 01 IB!T! We uo!qsuj PIO TB JO IBA
Francis Turner Palazuese
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