One must read and re-read those pages
of the Dialogues' where Theoctiste imagines the victory of a
future oligarchy, to appreciate the intensity of passion employed
in the examination of these problems.
of the Dialogues' where Theoctiste imagines the victory of a
future oligarchy, to appreciate the intensity of passion employed
in the examination of these problems.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v04 - Bes to Bro
He was
steady and inflexible in maintaining the obligations of religion
and morality, both from a regard for the order of society, and
from a veneration for the Great Source of all order: correct.
nay, stern-in his taste; hard to please, and easily offended;
impetuous and irritable in his temper, but of a most humane
and benevolent heart, which showed itself not only in a most
liberal charity, as far as his circumstances would allow, but in a
## p. 2250 (#448) ###########################################
2250
JAMES BOSWELL
thousand instances of active benevolence. He was afflicted with
a bodily disease which made him often restless and fretful; and
with a constitutional melancholy, the clouds of which darkened
the brightness of his fancy, and gave a gloomy cast to his whole
course of thinking. We therefore ought not to wonder at his
sallies of impatience and passion at any time, especially when
provoked by obtrusive ignorance or presuming petulance; and
allowance must be made for his uttering hasty and satirical sal-
lies even against his best friends. And surely, when it is
considered that "amidst sickness and sorrow" he exerted his
faculties in so many works for the benefit of mankind, and par-
ticularly that he achieved the great and admirable Dictionary of
our language, we must be astonished at his resolution.
The solemn text, "Of him to whom much is given, much is
expected," seems to have been ever present to his mind in a
rigorous sense, and to have made him dissatisfied with his labors
and acts of goodness, however comparatively great; so that the
unavoidable consciousness of his superiority was in that respect
a cause of disquiet. He suffered so much from this, and from
the gloom which perpetually haunted him and made solitude
frightful, that it may be said of him, "If in this life only he
had hope, he was of all men most miserable. " He loved praise
when it was brought to him, but was too proud to seek for it.
He was somewhat susceptible of flattery. As he was general
and unconfined in his studies, he cannot be considered as master
of any one particular science; but he had accumulated a vast
and various collection of learning and knowledge, which was so
arranged in his mind as to be ever in readiness to be brought
forth. But his superiority over other learned men consisted
chiefly in what may be called the art of thinking, the art of
using his mind; a certain continual power of seizing the useful
substance of all that he knew, and exhibiting it in a clear and
forcible manner; so that knowledge which we often see to be no
better than lumber in men of dull understanding, was in him
true, evident, and actual wisdom. His moral precepts are prac-
tical, for they are drawn from an intimate acquaintance with
human nature. His maxims carry conviction, for they are
founded on the basis of common-sense and a very attentive and
minute survey of real life. His mind was so full of imagery
that he might have been perpetually a poet; yet it is remarkable
that however rich his prose is in this respect, his poetical pieces,
1
## p. 2251 (#449) ###########################################
JAMES BOSWELL
2251
in general, have not much of that splendor, but are rather dis-
tinguished by strong sentiment and an acute observation, con-
veyed in harmonious and energetic verse, particularly in heroic
couplets.
Though usually grave and even awful in his deportment, he
possessed uncommon and peculiar powers of wit and humor; he
frequently indulged himself in colloquial pleasantry; and the
heartiest merriment was often enjoyed in his company, with this
great advantage, that as it was entirely free from any poisonous
tincture of vice or impiety, it was salutary to those who shared
in it. He had accustomed himself to such accuracy in his com-
mon conversation, that he at all times expressed his thoughts
with great force and an elegant choice of language, the effect of
which was aided by his having a loud voice and a slow deliber-
ate utterance. In him were united a most logical head with a
most fertile imagination, which gave him a most extraordinary
advantage in arguing; for he could reason close or wide, as he
saw best for the moment. Exulting in his intellectual strength
and dexterity, he could when he pleased be the greatest soph-
ist that ever contended in the lists of declamation; and from
a spirit of contradiction, and a delight in showing his powers,
he would often maintain the wrong side with equal warmth and
ingenuity: so that when there was an audience, his real opinions
could seldom be gathered from his talk; though when he was in
company with a single friend, he would discuss a subject with
genuine fairness; but he was too conscientious to make error
permanent and pernicious by deliberately writing it; and in all
his numerous works he earnestly inculcated what appeared to
him to be the truth, his piety being constant and the ruling
principle of all his conduct.
Such was Samuel Johnson; a man whose talents, acquire-
ments, and virtues were so extraordinary, that the more his char-
acter is considered, the more he will be regarded by the present
age and by posterity with admiration and reverence.
## p. 2252 (#450) ###########################################
2252
PAUL BOURGET
(1852-)
RENCH by birth, born at Amiens of a Russian father and an
English mother, Paul Bourget inherited Anglo-Saxon as well
as Gallic intuitions. He is very proud of the cosmopolitan
spirit which exempts him from the usual French provincialism, and
has sought to develop it by travel and study. He endeavors to know
intimately the phases of life which he wishes to describe, and then
to treat them in the light of a large knowledge of many peoples.
Yet he feels a somewhat bitter realization that so general a view
as his own has necessarily an element
of weakness. He lacks convictions and
prejudices to express with whole-hearted
strength, and hence is always a dilettante.
His student life was passed at the Lycée
of Clermont, and later at the Collège de
Sainte-Barbe at Paris, where his scholar-
ship was rewarded by several prizes. But
his voracious reading of French and Eng-
lish poetry, fiction, and philosophy has
probably done more for him than scholastic
training. Like so many other novelists, he
began his literary life with journalism; and
PAUL BOURGET
in 1872 became collaborator on the Renais-
sance, living frugally meantime, and studying Paris from her cafés
and boulevards as any poor man may.
His first book, 'La Vie Inquiète' (Restless Life), a collection of
poems sad in tone, dainty in touch, echoed the French verses which
he loved best, but offered nothing very original. They show a tinge
of Baudelaire's fantastic love of morbid phases of life and beauty, and
also of Leconte de Lisle's exquisite phrasing. But Bourget lacks
poetic ardor, and in metre is always a little artificial. Although he
went on writing poetry for some years, he found few readers until
he turned to prose.
When the Essais de Psychologie Contemporaine'
appeared in 1883, the public were delighted with their original charm.
Taking five authors whom he knew and loved particularly,- Baude-
laire, Renan, Flaubert, Taine, and Stendhal,- he wrote a brilliant,
profoundly psychologic exposition of their minds and temperaments.
The scientific explanation was fervid with his own emotion over these
## p. 2253 (#451) ###########################################
PAUL BOURGET
2253
strong influences in his life, and thus comes indirectly as an inter-
pretation of himself. These studies, which he calls "a few notes
made to help the historian of the modern moral life in France during
the latter half of the nineteenth century," stand, as criticism, between
Brunetière's formal structure and Lemaître's appreciations. They
have been very popular, and Bourget has since written another vol-
ume of 'Nouveaux Essais de Psychologie Contemporaine,' and other
books of critical sketches called 'Études et Portraits. '
Certain qualities of his talent show forcibly in 'Sensations
d'Italie,' a delightful appreciation of beauty and sensuous charm.
The reader feels the author's joy close analysis, and his sensitive
discriminations. In 'Outre-Mer,' especially interesting to Americans
as a study of the United States, which he visited in 1894, he shows
the same receptivity to new feelings and new ideas. The book is
often ludicrously inaccurate, and fundamentally incomplete in that it
ignores the great middle class of our people, yet it is full of suggest-
ive comments on American character.
Most people know Bourget best as a novelist. As in criticism, his
method is psychologic dissection. Taking a set of men and women
who are individually interesting, he draws their environment with
careful detail and shows the reactions of their characters upon each
other. His subtlety of analysis comes out strongly in his pictures of
women, whose contradictory moods and emotional intuitions offer him
the refined complexities he loves. His first novel, 'L'Irréparable,'
lacks movement and is sometimes tedious in its over-elaboration. In
'Une Cruelle Énigme his strength is more evident. It is the story
of a young and high-minded man who discovers that the woman he
loves is unworthy, yet finds that he loves her notwithstanding. "Why
this love? " asks the author at the end of the book. "Why and whence
does it come? The question is without an answer, and like the falsity
of woman, like the weakness of man, like life itself, cruel, cruel
riddle. " Un Crime d'Amour,' one of his most popular novels, deals
with a woman who, being married to an uncongenial husband, falls
in love with a brilliant, heartless society man, with the usual result.
The crime is the hero's inability to understand the meaning of genu-
ine love. Mensonges' (Lies) is a striking picture of the endless
falsities of a Parisian woman of innocent Madonna-like beauty. It
was dramatized and played at the Vaudeville in 1889, but without
much success. 'Le Disciple' is an elaborate attempt to prove that
present scientific theories tend to corrupt manners and to encourage
pessimism. In 'Cosmopolis, a study of foreign life in Italy, Bourget
shows that the same passions dominate men, whatever their training.
From Dumas fils Bourget has learned to be a moralist with a
conscious wish to present society with object lessons. He himself
## p. 2254 (#452) ###########################################
PAUL BOURGET
2254
says, "A writer worthy to hold a pen has, as his first and last re-
quirement, to be a moralist. The moralist is the man who shows
life as it is, with its profound lessons of secret expiation which are
everywhere imprinted. To have shown the rancor of vice is to have
been a moralist. ”
Like most French novelists, he lacks humor. In their search for
happiness his characters suffer a great deal and know only temporary
ecstasy. They are often witty, but never genial.
His critics have said that his genius proves its own limitation, for
his analytic curiosity is apt to desert what is primitive and broadly
human in search of stimulus from the abnormal and out-of-the-way,
and there is lack of synthesis in his wealth of detail.
His literary
brethren are fond too of deriding his ardent appreciation of luxury
and wealth. He dwells upon niceties of toilet or the decorations of a
dinner-table with evident enjoyment. All social refinements are very
dear to him, and the moral struggles of fashionable men and women
far more interesting than the heart-aches of the working classes.
He is often called a pessimist, for his "heavy sadness of disil-
lusion"; but he is never bitter. Finding the universe incomprehensi-
ble, he stands baffled and passive, with a tender sympathy, almost an
envy, for those who still have faith. He is above all interesting as
a sane and characteristic product of the latest social conditions. His
is the tolerant, somewhat negative point of view of the man who
has found no new creed, yet disbelieves the old. Clarens says that
Bourget suffers from "the atrocious modern uneasiness which is
caused by regret that one can no longer believe, and dread of the
moral void. "
THE AMERICAN FAMILY
From 'Outre-Mer. Copyright 1894 and 1895, by James Gordon Bennett.
Reprinted by permission of Charles Scribner's Sons
As
S THE American marriage appears to be above all a partner-
ship, so the American family appears to be more than
anything else an association, a sort of social camp, the
ties of which are more or less strong according to individual
sympathies, such as might exist between people not of the same
blood. I am certain, not from anecdotes but from experience,
that the friendship of brother and brother, or sister and sister,
is entirely elective. So it is with the relations between father
and son, mother and daughter. A young Frenchman much in
love with a New York girl said to me, in one of those moments
-
## p. 2255 (#453) ###########################################
PAUL BOURGET
2255
when the coldness of the woman you love drives you to be
cruelly frank:-
"She has so little heart that she went to the theatre five
weeks after her mother's death, and no one resented it. "
I knew that he was telling the truth. But what did it prove?
What do the inequalities permitted by the laws of inheritance
prove? Nothing, if not that our natural characteristics, instincts,
sensibilities, are not the same as those of the people of this
country. They have much less power of self-giving, much more
of personal reaction; and especially a much stronger will. Their
will rules their hearts as well as their minds. This seems to us
less tender. But are we good judges?
We must continually keep in mind this general want of asso-
ciation in family life if we would in any degree understand the
sort of soul-celibacy, if we may use the term, which the Amer-
ican woman keeps all through her married life. No more in this
second period of her life than in the first does love bear that
preponderating part which seems to us Frenchmen an essential
characteristic of the lot of woman. When a Parisian woman of
forty reviews her life, the story that memory tells her is the
story of her emotions. To an American woman of the same age
it is more often the story of her actions,- of what she calls,
by a word I have before cited, her experiences. She gained,
between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, a conception of
her own self which was imposed upon her neither by her tra-
ditions—she has none; nor by the instructions of her parents —
they never gave her any; nor even by her own nature - for it
is characteristic of these easily "adaptable" minds that their
first instincts are chaotic and undetermined. They are like a
blank check, which the will undertakes to fill out. But what-
ever the will writes upon it, is written in letters that will never
be effaced. Action, action, always action,- this is the remorse-
less but unchanging device of such a woman. Whether she
seeks for a place in society, or is ambitious for artistic culture,
or addicts herself to sport, or organizes "classes," as they say,
for reading Browning, Emerson, or Shakespeare, with her friends;
whether she travels to Europe, India, or Japan, or gives an «< at
home" to have some young girl among her friends pour" tea
for her, be sure that she will be always and incessantly active,
indefatigably active, either in the lines of "refinement" or of
"excitement. "
-
<<
## p. 2256 (#454) ###########################################
2256
PAUL BOURGET
With what impressiveness these women utter both these
words! which we must not weary of returning to; for they per-
haps sum up the entire American soul. They are bandied about
in conversation like two formulæ, in which are revealed the per-
sistence of this creature, who, born of a stern race, and feeling
herself fine, wills to become finer and ever finer; who, reared
amid democratic surroundings, wills to become distinguished and
ever more distinguished; who, daughter of a land of enterprise,
loves to excite continually in herself the sensation of over-
strained nerves.
are the
When you see ten, fifteen, thirty, fifty like this, the character
of eccentricity, which you first found in them by comparison
with the women of Europe, disappears. A new type of feminine
attractiveness is revealed to you, less affecting than irritating,
enigmatic and slightly ambiguous by its indefinable blending of
supple grace and virile firmness, by the alliance of culture and
vigor, by the most thrilling nervous sensitiveness and the stur-
diest health. The true place of such a creature in this society
appears to you also, and the profound reason why these men,
themselves all action, leave these women free thus to act with
total independence. If it is permitted to apply an old legal
term to creatures so subtle, so delicate, these women
delegates to luxury in this utilitarian civilization. Their mis-
sion is to bring into it that which the American has not time to
create, and which he desires to have:-the flower of elegance,
something of beauty, and in a word, of aristocracy. They are
the nobility in this land of business, a nobility developed by the
very development of business; since the money which is made
in the offices comes at last to them, and manipulated by their
fingers, is transfigured, blossoming into precious decorations,
made intellectual in plays of fancy, in fact, unutilized. A
great artist, foremost of this epoch by the ardor of his efforts,
the conscientiousness of his study, and the sincerity of his vis-
ion, John Sargent, has shown what I have tried to express,
in a portrait I saw in an exhibition; that of a woman whose
name I do not know. It is a portrait such as the fifteenth-cen-
tury masters painted, who back of the individual found the real,
and back of the model a whole social order. The canvas might
be called The American Idol,' so representative is it.
The woman is standing, her feet side by side, her knees close
together, in an almost hieratic pose. Her body, rendered supple
-
-
-
## p. 2257 (#455) ###########################################
PAUL BOURGET
2257
by exercise, is sheathed-you might say molded-in a tight-
fitting black dress. Rubies, like drops of blood, sparkle on her
shoes. Her slender waist is encircled by a girdle of enormous
pearls, and from this dress, which makes an intensely dark back-
ground for the stony brilliance of the jewels, the arms and
shoulders shine out with another brilliance, that of a flower-like
flesh,-fine, white flesh, through which flows blood perpetually
invigorated by the air of the country and the ocean. The head,
intellectual and daring, with a countenance as of one who has
understood everything, has for a sort of aureole the vaguely
gilded design of one of those Renaissance stuffs which the
Venetians call soprarisso. The rounded arms, in which the mus-
cles can hardly be seen, are joined by the clasped hands, — firm
hands, the thumb almost too long, which might guide four
horses with the precision of an English coachman. It is the
picture of an energy at once delicate and invincible, momentarily
in repose; and all the Byzantine Madonna is in that face with
its wide-open eyes.
Yes, this woman is an idol, for whose service man labors,
which he has decked with the jewels of a queen, behind each
one of whose whims lie days and days spent in the ardent battle
of Wall Street. Frenzy of speculations in land, cities undertaken
and built by sheer force of millions, trains launched at full
speed over bridges built on a Babel-like sweep of arch, the
creaking of cable cars, the quivering of electric cars, sliding
along their wires with a crackle and a spark, the dizzy ascent of
elevators, in buildings twenty stories high, immense wheat-fields.
of the West, its ranches, mines, colossal slaughter-houses,—all
the formidable traffic of this country of effort and struggle, all
its labor,- these are what have made possible this woman, this
living orchid, unexpected masterpiece of this civilization.
Did not the very painter consecrate to her his intense toil?
To be capable of such a picture, he must have absorbed some of
the ardor of the Spanish masters, caught the subtlety of the
great Italians, understood and practiced the curiosities of impres-
sionism, dreamed before the pictures in basilicas like Ravenna,
and read and thought. Ah, how much of culture, of reflection,
before one could fathom the secret depths of one's own race!
He has expressed one of the most essential characteristics of the
race,
the deification of woman, considered not as a Beatrice as
in Florence, nor as a courtesan as at Milan, but as a supreme
glory of the national spirit.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
IV-142
## p. 2258 (#456) ###########################################
2258
PAUL BOURGET
This woman can do without being loved. She has no need
of being loved. What she symbolizes is neither sensuality nor
tenderness. She is like a living object of art, the last fine work
of human skill, attesting that the Yankee, but yesterday despair-
ing, vanquished by the Old World, has been able to draw from
this savage world upon which fate has cast him a wholly new
civilization, incarnated in this woman, her luxury and her pride.
Everything is illuminated by this civilization, at the gaze of
these fathomless eyes, in the expression of which the painter
has succeeded in putting all the idealism of this country which
has no ideal; all that which perhaps will one day be its destruc-
tion, but up to the present time is still its greatness, a faith in
the human Will, absolute, unique, systematic, and indomitable.
Copyrighted by Charles Scribner's Sons, New York.
-
--
THE ARISTOCRATIC VISION OF M. RENAN
From the Study of M. Renan'
HE sentiments I have tried to analyze are evidently of a rare
Delicate
flowers will not grow in the winds and fitful sunshine of
the public road. Their perfumed corollas expand only in the
mellowed air of hot-houses. Science is a kind of hot-house which
guards superior minds from the brutalities of real life. The
author of 'Dialogues philosophiques' is an exceptional person.
He is a superior man, to me a term very strong in its simplicity;
one might say almost that he is the superior man. Moreover, a
certain air of imperceptible irony and transcendental disdain
shows that he is conscious of this superiority. Disregard of vul-
gar opinion is very evident in his pages. The reserved elegance
of a style which never emphasizes any special intention; the
subtle arguments which never take the imperative tone; a strength
of feelings, none of which are exaggerated for the sake of sym-
pathy, all would reveal his aristocratic ideal, even if he had
not often declared that there is one domain for the initiated and
another for the simple. His political work on 'Reforme intel-
lectuelle et morale' contains the strongest argument of the last
hundred years against the very principle of democracy, natural
equality. His two symbolic dramas-Caliban' and 'Eau de
Jouvence' may be summed up in this reflection of the prior of
Chartreux, seated in his stall while the organ plays alone, and
## p. 2259 (#457) ###########################################
PAUL BOURGET
2259
the crowd presses around the crowned Caliban: "All civilization
is the work of aristocrats. " This truth the demagogue Caliban
himself recognizes, since as soon as possessed of the palace and
power of Prospero, he assumes aristocratic ways; and M. Renan,
always desirous of correcting by a smile even his dearest affirm-
ations, carefully adds that the monster of the island became a
very fair prince. Prospero proclaims that material work is the
slave of spiritual work. Everything must aid him who prays,-
that is, who thinks. Democratic minds, which do not admit
individual subordination to a general achievement, consider this
a monstrous doctrine.
Finally, the 'Dialogues philosophiques,' in the part entitled
'Dreams,' contain a complete plan for the subjection of the
greatest number by a chosen few.
Is it bold to consider
his feeling for his native soil the germ of his aristocratic ideal?
Other determining circumstances unite with it, all of which
may be summed up in the term "superior man," which seems
simple enough, but which may be decomposed into a series of
complex characters. The superior man differs from the man of
genius, who may be unintelligent enough, and from the man of
talent, who is often a mere specialist, in an ability to form gen-
eral ideas about everything. If this power of generalizing is not
combined with equal creative power, the superior man remains a
critic. But if he possesses both, he is an exceptional being and
the highest conceivable type, that of conscious genius. Cæsar is
an example of this in politics; Da Vinci in painting; and the
great Goethe in literature. Even if he does not reach these
heights, the superior man is one of the most useful instruments
of society. For universal comprehension usually includes a uni-
versal aptitude. Is not this demonstrated in England, where
favorable conditions have developed many examples? What are
great political characters like Disraeli and Macaulay, who could
apply an ever-ready intelligence to literary composition and par-
liamentary struggles, to financial interests and diplomatic difficult-
ies, but superior men?
.
Conceive such a one thrown into the democratic current by
chances of birth, and you will realize the contrasts of environ-
ment and character which have led M. Renan to the conception
of an ideal so unusual. Democracy seems at a first glance very
favorable to talent, for it opens all doors to all efforts. But
at the same time it strengthens the hard law of competition.
## p. 2260 (#458) ###########################################
2260
PAUL BOURGET
1
Therefore it requires a greater specialization. Then, democracy is
founded upon equality, of which the logical consequence is uni-
versal suffrage. It needs little analysis to know that universal
suffrage is hostile to the superior man. The mental attitudes
resulting from advanced study are usually-multiplicity of points
of view; a taste for nice distinctions; a disdain for absolute state-
ment; and search for intricate solutions; all of which are
refinements antagonistic to the popular love of positive assertion.
Therefore a superior man finds the morals of a democracy un-
favorable to his development, while its laws hold him back from
public affairs. So, many distinguished minds in France to-day
are excluded from government; or if they have triumphed over
the ostracism to which their divorce from common passions con-
demns them, it is because they disguise this divorce under pro-
fessions which are void of intellectual impartiality. The superior
man exiled in what Sainte-Beuve calls "the ivory tower" watches
the drama of national life as one who sees its future possibilities.
Is it necessary to recall that one of this class of élite has shown
a veritable gift of prophecy? To cite only one example, were
not the disasters of 1870 predicted with surprising exactness in
the France nouvelle' of Prévost-Paradol, victim like Renan of
universal suffrage? It is evident that a strange melancholy op-
presses these lofty minds, weighed down under the conviction of
their ideal strength and their real weakness. The insolent tri-
umph of the mediocre adds to this sadness. But it is not quite
without sweetness. It has something of the pleasure extolled
by Lucretius in the famous verses on those temples of the calm
faith from which the sage regards the wild struggle of the pas-
sions. But the superior man of to-day will never know the full
enjoyment which the nervous systems of the ancients permitted
them. The mind can do a great deal, but it is powerless to
remodel our native faculties. Whether we hate or venerate the
democracy, we are its sons and inherit its imperious need of
combat. The obscure and revolutionary nineteenth century is in
our blood, and prohibits the inner immobility, the mental quiet,
celebrated by the Epicureans of Greece and Rome. There is
agitation in our serenities, as in our submissions. Catholics or
atheists, monarchists or republicans, all the offspring of this age
of anguish have the anxious look, the quaking heart, the trem-
bling hands of the great battle of the time. Even those who
try to stand aloof share the common anxiety. They too are
-
## p. 2261 (#459) ###########################################
PAUL BOURGET
2261
revolutionists like the others, but they oppose human stupidity,
and their mute rebellion is called disdain.
It would be interesting to study among contemporary scholars
the different forms of this disdain. Does not the exaggeration
of technical beauties, which is a feature of the school of poets
ironically called Parnassians, proceed from this sentiment of Odi
profanum vulgus? Did not Gustave Flaubert compose 'Bouvard
et Péchuchet' under this inspiration? Would Taine have under-
taken his 'Histoire des origines de la France contemporaine' if
he had not been tormented by a longing to understand the dem-
ocratic tide which was sweeping him away? But no writer has
felt more strongly than M. Renan the antithesis of the superior
man and democracy.
One must read and re-read those pages
of the Dialogues' where Theoctiste imagines the victory of a
future oligarchy, to appreciate the intensity of passion employed
in the examination of these problems. He conceives that the
learned will secure formidable destructive agents, requiring the
most delicate calculations and much abstract knowledge. Then,
exulting in their power, the dreamer exclaims:-"Thus the
forces of humanity would some day be held in a few hands, and
would be possessed by a league which could rule the existence
of the planet and terrorize the whole world. If those most
endowed with reason had ability to destroy the planet, their
sovereignty would be established. The privileged class would
reign by absolute terror, since they would have the existence of
all in their hands. They would be almost gods, and then would
be realized the theological state dreamed by the poet for prim-
itive humanity: 'Primus in orbe Deos fecit timor. '" We must
not attach more reality to this tragic fancy than the author
intended, but it shows an incurably wounded heart; and proves
that the scholar who drew this gloomy picture has no great ten-
derness for the favorite Utopias of the age.
An open break is possible between democracy and science, the
two great forces of modern society. Certainly while the tendency
of the first is to level, that of the second is to create differences.
"Knowledge is power," said the inductive philosopher. To know
ten times as much as another is to be ten times as capable; and
as intellectual inequality forbids a uniform degree of information,
there is increasing opposition between democratic tendencies
and the social results of science. There are several solutions,
as in nearly all the complicated problems as to the future. In
## p. 2262 (#460) ###########################################
2262
PAUL BOURGET
formulating the hypothesis of the 'Dialogues,' M. Renan indi-
cates one of them. Another may be simply an application of
science to the organization of societies. An unprejudiced consid-
eration of the principles upon which our nineteenth-century
society is founded proves their Cartesian character, very different
already from modern philosophy. But there is a secret move-
ment of minds. The conceptions of Darwin and Herbert Spencer
permeate the new ones. We must have faith in the worth of the
doctrines which will eventually overthrow politics, as well as
natural science and literature. A time is coming when a society
will not seem to the philosophers of evolution as it did to the
last inheritors of the classic spirit. It will appear, not the oper-
ation of a logical contract, but the action of a confederation of
organisms of which the cell is the unit. This is very different
from the reigning idea. It is exclusive of any difference between
democrat and aristocrat, for such difference means an arbitrary
classification of the different social elements. If this consoling
vision is not a simple chimera, it may be remembered that the
great scorners like M. Renan are active workmen for its accomp-
lishment, in that they formulate it very exactly, and face the
coming conflict with sorrowfully keen relief.
These summary notes upon one of our most remarkable men
only indicate the three or four states of conscience which he rep-
resents to the young people who read his books and meditate
upon their eloquent, disquieting pages. No other author offers
more that is fresh in thought and feeling, for no other employs
greater sincerity in thought and in exposition of sentiment.
Whoever studies the springs of moral life in the rising genera-
tion, meets everywhere his influence. Not before a hundred
years hence can his achievement be measured.
If there are any
who do not worship sincerity and reverence, they should devote
themselves to the books of M. Renan; for no one has practiced
these qualities with greater constancy than he, who on the first
page of his 'Vie de Jésus' invokes the pure spirit of the ven-
erated Dead, and who prayed to him in a melancholy petition to
the unattainable-"O good Genius, reveal to me whom you
love, the truths which govern death, keep one from fearing and
make one almost love it! "
## p. 2263 (#461) ###########################################
2263
SIR JOHN BOWRING
(1792-1872)
T WILL be the height of my ambition," once wrote Sir John
Bowring to a friend, "to do something which may connect
my name with the literature of the age. "
This desire was accomplished; for the distinguished linguist,
scholar, and diplomat of England rendered genuine service to litera-
ture by his translations of Slavonic and Oriental verses into the
English tongue. These were more than translations: they were
studies of the national song. Bowring was one of the first scholars
to appreciate the beauty, the importance,
and the charm of the traditional ballad and
lyric; those faithful records of the joys,
sorrows, superstitions, and history of a peo-
ple. In the various East-European lan-
guages wherein Bowring's researches bore
such valuable fruit,-embracing Bohemian,
Polish, Russian, Hungarian, Servian, and
Bulgarian, the race-soul of these nations
is preserved: their wild mythology, their
bizarre Oriental color, their impassioned
thought, their affections and traditions, and
often the sorrows and ideals learned during
centuries of vain wanderings and heavy
oppressions. In this rich and romantic field, which has been assid-
uously cultivated since his time, Bowring was a pioneer.
SIR JOHN BOWRING
John Bowring, born on October 17th, 1792, came of an old Puritan
family, long identified with the woolen trade. "In the early days,"
he tells us, "the Exeter merchants were mostly traveled men with a
practical knowledge of other tongues, and the quay at Exeter was
crowded with the ships of all nations. " Thus his imagination was kin-
dled by the visible links to far-away countries, and from intercourse
with the emigrants of various nations he acquired the foundation of
his brilliant linguistic attainments.
In 1811 he went to London as clerk to a commercial house, which
sent him to Spain in 1813, and subsequently to France, Belgium,
Holland, Russia, and Sweden. Immediately on his return to London
he published the first of his translations, Specimens of the Russian
Poets' (1820). In 1822 he published a second volume of Russian verse
## p. 2264 (#462) ###########################################
2264
SIR JOHN BOWRING
and a translation of Chamisso's whimsical tale Peter Schlemihl'; and
when in 1824 his friend Jeremy Bentham founded the Westminster
Review, Bowring became one of its editors. He contributed to it
numerous essays on political and literary topics, one of which, on
the literature of Finland, published in 1827, first brought the poetry
of that country into notice. In 1849 he was sent on a mission to
China; in 1854 was made plenipotentiary and knighted, and remained
in China during the Taeping insurrection, being made governor of
Hong Kong. In 1859 he resigned the post.
With the exception of negotiating commercial treaties for England
between the Hawaiian court and various European States, the remain-
der of his life was spent quietly in the pursuit of literary pleasures.
Even in his old age he translated fugitive poetry, wrote essays on
political, literary, and social questions of the hour, and frequently
delivered lectures. He died November 23d, 1872, in Exeter, within
sight of his birthplace under the shadows of the massive cathedral.
"In my travels," he said, "I have never been very ambitious of the
society of my countrymen, but have always sought that of the
natives; and there are few men, I believe, who can bear a stronger
or a wider testimony to the general kindness and hospitality of the
human family when the means of intercourse exist. My experiences
of foreign lands are everywhere connected with the most pleasing
and the most grateful remembrances. " In 1873 Lady Bowring pub-
lished a 'Memorial Volume of Sacred Poetry,' containing many of
his popular hymns; and in 1877 his Autobiographical Recollections'
were published, with a memoir by his son.
Sir John Bowring was a natural linguist of the first order. He
knew and spoke over a hundred languages, and affirmed that he
often dreamed in foreign tongues. His friend Tom Hood humor-
ously referred to his gifts in the following verse:—
«To Bowring! man of many tongues,
(All over tongues, like rumor)
This tributary verse belongs
To paint his learnèd humor.
All kinds of gab he knows, I wis,
From Latin down to Scottish-
As fluent as a parrot is,
But far more Polly-glottish.
No grammar too abstruse he meets,
However dark and verby;
He gossips Greek about the streets
And often Russ-in urbe.
Strange tongues- whate'er you do them call:
In short, the man is able
## p. 2265 (#463) ###########################################
SIR JOHN BOWRING
2265
To tell you what o'clock in all
The dialects of Babel.
Take him on Change-in Portuguese,
The Moorish and the Spanish,
Polish, Hungarian, Tyrolese,
The Swedish and the Danish:
Try him with these, and fifty such,
His skill will ne'er diminish;
Although you should begin in Dutch,
And end (like me) in Finnish. »
Bowring was a member of many learned societies, and had honors
and decorations without stint, including the Order of the White
Elephant, the Swedish Order of the Northern Star, and the Order of
Kamehameha I. His publications are a 'Russian Anthology,' 'Matins
and Vespers,' 'Batavian Anthology,' 'Ancient Poetry and Romances
of Spain, Peter Schlemihl,' 'Servian Popular Poetry,' 'Specimens
of the Polish Poets,' 'Sketch of the Language and Literature of
Holland,' 'Poetry of the Magyars,' 'Cheskian Anthology,' 'Minor
Morals,' 'Observations on Oriental Plague and Quarantines,' 'Manu-
script of the Queen's Court: a Collection of Old Bohemian Lyrico-
Epic Songs,' 'Kingdom and People of Siam,' A Visit to the
Philippine Islands,' Translations from Petöfi,' The Flowery Scroll'
(translation of a Chinese novel), and The Oak' (a collection of
original tales and sketches). He also edited the works of Jeremy
Bentham. Of his translations, the 'Servian Anthology' has been the
most admired for the skill and ease with which the wild beauty of
the poems, and their national spirit, has been preserved. At the time
of its publication, the collection of Servian popular poetry called
'Narodne srpske pjesme' had just appeared, and was the first attempt
to put into literary form the ballads and lyric songs sung by the
wandering minstrels and the people.
THE CROSS OF CHRIST
IN THE Cross of Christ I glory,
IN
Tow'ring o'er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime.
When the woes of life o'ertake me,
Hopes deceive and fears annoy,
Never shall the Cross forsake me
Lo! it glows with peace and joy.
## p. 2266 (#464) ###########################################
2266
SIR JOHN BOWRING
When the sun of bliss is beaming
Light and love upon my way,
From the Cross the radiance streaming
Adds more lustre to the day.
Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,
By the Cross are sanctified;
Peace is there that knows no measure,
Joys that through all time abide.
In the Cross of Christ I glory,
Tow'ring o'er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime.
WATCHMAN! WHAT OF THE NIGHT?
ATCHMAN! tell us of the night,
What its signs of promise are:
Traveler! o'er yon mountain's height
See that glory-beaming star!
Watchman! doth its beauteous ray
Aught of hope or joy foretell?
Traveler! yes, it brings the day,
Promised day of Israel.
W
Watchman! tell us of the night;
Higher yet that star ascends:
Traveler! blessedness and light,
Peace and truth, its course portends.
Watchman! will its beams alone
Gild the spot that gave them birth?
Traveler! ages are its own,
And it bursts o'er all the earth.
Watchman! tell us of the night,
For the morning seems to dawn:
Traveler! darkness takes its flight,
Doubt and terror are withdrawn.
Watchman! let thy wanderings cease;
Hie thee to thy quiet home:
Traveler! lo! the Prince of Peace,
Lo! the Son of God is come!
L
## p. 2267 (#465) ###########################################
SIR JOHN BOWRING
2267
F
HYMN
ROM the recesses of a lowly spirit
My humble prayer ascends-O Father! hear it!
Upsoaring on the wings of fear and meekness,
Forgive its weakness.
I know, I feel, how mean and how unworthy
The trembling sacrifice I pour before Thee;
What can I offer in Thy presence holy,
But sin and folly?
For in Thy sight who every bosom viewest,
Cold are our warmest vows, and vain our truest;
Thoughts of a hurrying hour, our lips repeat them,
Our hearts forget them.
We see Thy hand - it leads us, it supports us;
We hear Thy voice-it counsels and it courts us;
And then we turn away—and still thy kindness
Pardons our blindness.
Ard still Thy rain descends, Thy sun is glowing,
Fruits ripen round, flowers are beneath us blowing,
And, as if man were some deserving creature,
Joys cover nature.
Oh, how long-suffering, Lord! - but Thou delightest
To win with love the wandering; Thou invitest
By smiles of mercy, not by frowns or terrors,
Man from his errors.
Who can resist Thy gentle call-appealing
To every generous thought and grateful feeling?
That voice paternal-whispering, watching ever:
My bosom? - never.
Father and Savior! plant within that bosom
These seeds of holiness, and bid them blossom
In fragrance and in beauty bright and vernal,
And spring eternal.
Then place them in those everlasting gardens
Where angels walk, and seraphs are the wardens;
Where every flower that creeps through death's dark portal
Becomes immortal.
## p. 2268 (#466) ###########################################
2268
SIR JOHN BOWRING
FROM LUIS DE GONGORA — NOT ALL NIGHTINGALES
HEY are not all sweet nightingales,
That fill with songs the flowery vales;
But they are little silver bells,
Touched by the winds in smiling dells;
TH
Magic bells of gold in the grove,
Forming a chorus for her I love.
Think not the voices in the air
Are from the winged Sirens fair,
Playing among the dewy trees,
Chanting their morning mysteries;
Oh! if you listen, delighted there,
To their music scattered o'er the dales,
They are not all sweet nightingales,
That fill with songs the flowery vales;
But they are the little silver bells
Touched by the winds in the smiling dells;
Magic bells of gold in the grove,
Forming a chorus for her I love.
Oh! 'twas a lovely song -- of art
To charm-of nature to touch the heart;
Sure 'twas some Shepherd's pipe, which, played
By passion, fills the forest shade:
No! 'tis music's diviner part
Which o'er the yielding spirit prevails.
They are not all sweet nightingales,
That fill with songs the flowery vales;
But they are the little silver bells
Touched by the winds in the smiling dells;
Magic bells of gold in the grove,
Forming a chorus for her I love.
In the eye of love, which all things sees,
The fragrance-breathing jasmine trees-
And the golden flowers-and the sloping hill-
And the ever-melancholy rill-
Are full of holiest sympathies.
And tell of love a thousand tales.
They are not all sweet nightingales,
That fill with songs the flowery vales,
## p. 2269 (#467) ###########################################
SIR JOHN BOWRING
2269
But they are the little silver bells
Touched by the winds in the smiling dells;
Magic bells of gold in the grove,
Forming a chorus for her I love.
From Ancient Poetry and Romances of Spain. '
FROM JOHN KOLLAR-SONNET
HERE came three minstrels in the days of old
TH To the Avaric savage-in their hands
Their own Slavonian citharas they hold:
"And who are ye! " the haughty Khan demands,
Frowning from his barbaric throne: "and where-
Say where your warriors- where your sisters be. "
"We are Slavonians, monarch! and come here
From the far borders of the Baltic sea:
We know no wars no arms to us belong -
We cannot swell your ranks-'tis our employ
Alone to sing the dear domestic song. "
And then they touched their harps in doubtful joy.
"Slaves! " said the tyrant -"these to prison lead,
For they are precious hostages indeed! "
From the Cheskian Anthology. '
FROM BOGDANOVICH (OLD RUSSIAN) — SONG
HAT to the maiden has happened?
What to the gem of the village?
Ah! to the gem of the village.
WHA
Seated alone in her cottage,
Tremblingly turned to the window;
Ah! ever turned to the window.
Like the sweet bird in its prison,
Pining and panting for freedom;
Ah! how 'tis pining for freedom!
Crowds of her youthful companions
Come to console the loved maiden;
Ah! to console the loved maiden.
## p. 2270 (#468) ###########################################
2270
SIR JOHN BOWRING
"Smile then, our sister, be joyful;
Clouds of dust cover the valley;
Ah! see, they cover the valley.
"Smile then, our sister, be joyful;
List to the hoof-beat of horses;
Oh! to the hoof-beat of horses. "
Then the maid looked through the window.
Saw the dust-clouds in the valley;
Oh! the dust-clouds in the valley.
Heard the hoof-beat of the horses,
Hurried away from the cottage;
Oh! to the valley she hurries.
"Welcome, O welcome! thou loved one. "
See, she has sunk on his bosom;
Oh! she has sunk on his bosom.
Now all her grief has departed:
She has forgotten the window;
Oh! quite forgotten the window.
Now her eye looks on her loved one,
Beaming with brightness and beauty;
Oh! 'tis all brightness and beauty.
From Specimens of the Russian Poets. "
FROM BOBROV - THE GOLDEN PALACE
[Sung at midnight in the Greek churches the last week before Easter. ]
THE
HE golden palace of my God
Tow'ring above the clouds I see
Beyond the cherubs' bright abode,
Higher than angels' thoughts can be:
How can I in those courts appear
Without a wedding garment on?
Conduct me, Thou life-giver, there;
Conduct me to Thy glorious throne:
And clothe me with thy robes of light,
And lead me through sin's darksome night,
My Savior and my God!
From Specimens of the Russian Poets. ▸
## p. 2271 (#469) ###########################################
SIR JOHN BOWRING
2271
FROM DMITRIEV— THE DOVE AND THE STRANGER
WHY
STRANGER
HY mourning there so sad, thou gentle dove?
DOVE
I mourn, unceasing mourn, my vanished love.
STRANGER
What, has thy love then fled, or faithless proved?
DOVE
Ah no! the sportsman murdered him I loved!
STRANGER
Unhappy one! beware! that sportsman's nigh!
DOVE
Oh, let him come- or else of grief I die.
From Specimens of the Russian Poets. ›
FROM SARBIEWSKI-SAPPHICS TO A ROSE
[Intended to be used in the garlands for decorating the head of the
Virgin Mary. ]
R°
OSE of the morning, in thy glowing beauty
Bright as the stars, and delicate and lovely,
Lift up thy head above thy earthly dwelling,
Daughter of heaven!
Wake! for the watery clouds are all dispersing;
Zephyr invites thee,- frosts and snows of winter
All are departed, and Favonian breezes
Welcome thee smiling.
Rise in thy beauty;-wilt thou form a garland
Round the fair brow of some beloved maiden?
Pure though she be, unhallowed temple never,
Flow'ret! shall wear thee.
-
Thou shouldst be wreathed in coronal immortal —
Thou shouldst be flung upon a shrine eternal -
Thou shouldst be twined among the golden ringlets
Of the pure Virgin.
From Specimens of the Polish Poets. >
## p. 2272 (#470) ###########################################
2272
HJALMAR HJORTH BOYESEN
(1848-1895)
B
OYESEN had thoroughly assimilated the spirit of his native
Norway before he left it. In the small southern seaport of
Friedricksvaern he had lived the happy adventurous boy-
hood depicted in those loving reminiscences 'Boyhood in Norway. '
He knew the rugged little land and the sparkling fiords; his imagin-
ation had delighted in Necken and Hulder and trolls, and all the
charming fantastic sprites of the Northland. So when he was far
away, during his bread-winning struggles in America, they grew
clearer and dearer in perspective; and in
'Gunnar,' 'A Norseman's Pilgrimage,'
'Ilka on the Hilltop,' and other delight-
ful books, he bequeathed these memories
to his adopted land.
He came of well-to-do people, and re-
ceived a liberal education at the gymna-
sium of Christiania, the University of
Leipsic, and the University of Norway.
His father, professor of mathematics at
the Naval Academy, had made several
trips to the United States and had been
impressed by the opportunities offered
there to energetic young men. Upon his
urgent advice, Hjalmar when about twenty-
HJALMAR H. BOYESEN
one came to America, and soon obtained a position upon a Norwegian
newspaper, the Fremad of Chicago.
From childhood he had longed to write, but had been discouraged
by his father, who expatiated upon the limitations of their native
tongue, and assured him that to succeed in literature he must be
able to write in another language as readily as in his own. Even in
his school days he had shown a remarkable aptitude for languages;
not only for understanding and speaking them, but for a sympathetic
comprehension of foreign literatures, and that sensitiveness to shades
of expression which so rarely comes to any but a native.
steady and inflexible in maintaining the obligations of religion
and morality, both from a regard for the order of society, and
from a veneration for the Great Source of all order: correct.
nay, stern-in his taste; hard to please, and easily offended;
impetuous and irritable in his temper, but of a most humane
and benevolent heart, which showed itself not only in a most
liberal charity, as far as his circumstances would allow, but in a
## p. 2250 (#448) ###########################################
2250
JAMES BOSWELL
thousand instances of active benevolence. He was afflicted with
a bodily disease which made him often restless and fretful; and
with a constitutional melancholy, the clouds of which darkened
the brightness of his fancy, and gave a gloomy cast to his whole
course of thinking. We therefore ought not to wonder at his
sallies of impatience and passion at any time, especially when
provoked by obtrusive ignorance or presuming petulance; and
allowance must be made for his uttering hasty and satirical sal-
lies even against his best friends. And surely, when it is
considered that "amidst sickness and sorrow" he exerted his
faculties in so many works for the benefit of mankind, and par-
ticularly that he achieved the great and admirable Dictionary of
our language, we must be astonished at his resolution.
The solemn text, "Of him to whom much is given, much is
expected," seems to have been ever present to his mind in a
rigorous sense, and to have made him dissatisfied with his labors
and acts of goodness, however comparatively great; so that the
unavoidable consciousness of his superiority was in that respect
a cause of disquiet. He suffered so much from this, and from
the gloom which perpetually haunted him and made solitude
frightful, that it may be said of him, "If in this life only he
had hope, he was of all men most miserable. " He loved praise
when it was brought to him, but was too proud to seek for it.
He was somewhat susceptible of flattery. As he was general
and unconfined in his studies, he cannot be considered as master
of any one particular science; but he had accumulated a vast
and various collection of learning and knowledge, which was so
arranged in his mind as to be ever in readiness to be brought
forth. But his superiority over other learned men consisted
chiefly in what may be called the art of thinking, the art of
using his mind; a certain continual power of seizing the useful
substance of all that he knew, and exhibiting it in a clear and
forcible manner; so that knowledge which we often see to be no
better than lumber in men of dull understanding, was in him
true, evident, and actual wisdom. His moral precepts are prac-
tical, for they are drawn from an intimate acquaintance with
human nature. His maxims carry conviction, for they are
founded on the basis of common-sense and a very attentive and
minute survey of real life. His mind was so full of imagery
that he might have been perpetually a poet; yet it is remarkable
that however rich his prose is in this respect, his poetical pieces,
1
## p. 2251 (#449) ###########################################
JAMES BOSWELL
2251
in general, have not much of that splendor, but are rather dis-
tinguished by strong sentiment and an acute observation, con-
veyed in harmonious and energetic verse, particularly in heroic
couplets.
Though usually grave and even awful in his deportment, he
possessed uncommon and peculiar powers of wit and humor; he
frequently indulged himself in colloquial pleasantry; and the
heartiest merriment was often enjoyed in his company, with this
great advantage, that as it was entirely free from any poisonous
tincture of vice or impiety, it was salutary to those who shared
in it. He had accustomed himself to such accuracy in his com-
mon conversation, that he at all times expressed his thoughts
with great force and an elegant choice of language, the effect of
which was aided by his having a loud voice and a slow deliber-
ate utterance. In him were united a most logical head with a
most fertile imagination, which gave him a most extraordinary
advantage in arguing; for he could reason close or wide, as he
saw best for the moment. Exulting in his intellectual strength
and dexterity, he could when he pleased be the greatest soph-
ist that ever contended in the lists of declamation; and from
a spirit of contradiction, and a delight in showing his powers,
he would often maintain the wrong side with equal warmth and
ingenuity: so that when there was an audience, his real opinions
could seldom be gathered from his talk; though when he was in
company with a single friend, he would discuss a subject with
genuine fairness; but he was too conscientious to make error
permanent and pernicious by deliberately writing it; and in all
his numerous works he earnestly inculcated what appeared to
him to be the truth, his piety being constant and the ruling
principle of all his conduct.
Such was Samuel Johnson; a man whose talents, acquire-
ments, and virtues were so extraordinary, that the more his char-
acter is considered, the more he will be regarded by the present
age and by posterity with admiration and reverence.
## p. 2252 (#450) ###########################################
2252
PAUL BOURGET
(1852-)
RENCH by birth, born at Amiens of a Russian father and an
English mother, Paul Bourget inherited Anglo-Saxon as well
as Gallic intuitions. He is very proud of the cosmopolitan
spirit which exempts him from the usual French provincialism, and
has sought to develop it by travel and study. He endeavors to know
intimately the phases of life which he wishes to describe, and then
to treat them in the light of a large knowledge of many peoples.
Yet he feels a somewhat bitter realization that so general a view
as his own has necessarily an element
of weakness. He lacks convictions and
prejudices to express with whole-hearted
strength, and hence is always a dilettante.
His student life was passed at the Lycée
of Clermont, and later at the Collège de
Sainte-Barbe at Paris, where his scholar-
ship was rewarded by several prizes. But
his voracious reading of French and Eng-
lish poetry, fiction, and philosophy has
probably done more for him than scholastic
training. Like so many other novelists, he
began his literary life with journalism; and
PAUL BOURGET
in 1872 became collaborator on the Renais-
sance, living frugally meantime, and studying Paris from her cafés
and boulevards as any poor man may.
His first book, 'La Vie Inquiète' (Restless Life), a collection of
poems sad in tone, dainty in touch, echoed the French verses which
he loved best, but offered nothing very original. They show a tinge
of Baudelaire's fantastic love of morbid phases of life and beauty, and
also of Leconte de Lisle's exquisite phrasing. But Bourget lacks
poetic ardor, and in metre is always a little artificial. Although he
went on writing poetry for some years, he found few readers until
he turned to prose.
When the Essais de Psychologie Contemporaine'
appeared in 1883, the public were delighted with their original charm.
Taking five authors whom he knew and loved particularly,- Baude-
laire, Renan, Flaubert, Taine, and Stendhal,- he wrote a brilliant,
profoundly psychologic exposition of their minds and temperaments.
The scientific explanation was fervid with his own emotion over these
## p. 2253 (#451) ###########################################
PAUL BOURGET
2253
strong influences in his life, and thus comes indirectly as an inter-
pretation of himself. These studies, which he calls "a few notes
made to help the historian of the modern moral life in France during
the latter half of the nineteenth century," stand, as criticism, between
Brunetière's formal structure and Lemaître's appreciations. They
have been very popular, and Bourget has since written another vol-
ume of 'Nouveaux Essais de Psychologie Contemporaine,' and other
books of critical sketches called 'Études et Portraits. '
Certain qualities of his talent show forcibly in 'Sensations
d'Italie,' a delightful appreciation of beauty and sensuous charm.
The reader feels the author's joy close analysis, and his sensitive
discriminations. In 'Outre-Mer,' especially interesting to Americans
as a study of the United States, which he visited in 1894, he shows
the same receptivity to new feelings and new ideas. The book is
often ludicrously inaccurate, and fundamentally incomplete in that it
ignores the great middle class of our people, yet it is full of suggest-
ive comments on American character.
Most people know Bourget best as a novelist. As in criticism, his
method is psychologic dissection. Taking a set of men and women
who are individually interesting, he draws their environment with
careful detail and shows the reactions of their characters upon each
other. His subtlety of analysis comes out strongly in his pictures of
women, whose contradictory moods and emotional intuitions offer him
the refined complexities he loves. His first novel, 'L'Irréparable,'
lacks movement and is sometimes tedious in its over-elaboration. In
'Une Cruelle Énigme his strength is more evident. It is the story
of a young and high-minded man who discovers that the woman he
loves is unworthy, yet finds that he loves her notwithstanding. "Why
this love? " asks the author at the end of the book. "Why and whence
does it come? The question is without an answer, and like the falsity
of woman, like the weakness of man, like life itself, cruel, cruel
riddle. " Un Crime d'Amour,' one of his most popular novels, deals
with a woman who, being married to an uncongenial husband, falls
in love with a brilliant, heartless society man, with the usual result.
The crime is the hero's inability to understand the meaning of genu-
ine love. Mensonges' (Lies) is a striking picture of the endless
falsities of a Parisian woman of innocent Madonna-like beauty. It
was dramatized and played at the Vaudeville in 1889, but without
much success. 'Le Disciple' is an elaborate attempt to prove that
present scientific theories tend to corrupt manners and to encourage
pessimism. In 'Cosmopolis, a study of foreign life in Italy, Bourget
shows that the same passions dominate men, whatever their training.
From Dumas fils Bourget has learned to be a moralist with a
conscious wish to present society with object lessons. He himself
## p. 2254 (#452) ###########################################
PAUL BOURGET
2254
says, "A writer worthy to hold a pen has, as his first and last re-
quirement, to be a moralist. The moralist is the man who shows
life as it is, with its profound lessons of secret expiation which are
everywhere imprinted. To have shown the rancor of vice is to have
been a moralist. ”
Like most French novelists, he lacks humor. In their search for
happiness his characters suffer a great deal and know only temporary
ecstasy. They are often witty, but never genial.
His critics have said that his genius proves its own limitation, for
his analytic curiosity is apt to desert what is primitive and broadly
human in search of stimulus from the abnormal and out-of-the-way,
and there is lack of synthesis in his wealth of detail.
His literary
brethren are fond too of deriding his ardent appreciation of luxury
and wealth. He dwells upon niceties of toilet or the decorations of a
dinner-table with evident enjoyment. All social refinements are very
dear to him, and the moral struggles of fashionable men and women
far more interesting than the heart-aches of the working classes.
He is often called a pessimist, for his "heavy sadness of disil-
lusion"; but he is never bitter. Finding the universe incomprehensi-
ble, he stands baffled and passive, with a tender sympathy, almost an
envy, for those who still have faith. He is above all interesting as
a sane and characteristic product of the latest social conditions. His
is the tolerant, somewhat negative point of view of the man who
has found no new creed, yet disbelieves the old. Clarens says that
Bourget suffers from "the atrocious modern uneasiness which is
caused by regret that one can no longer believe, and dread of the
moral void. "
THE AMERICAN FAMILY
From 'Outre-Mer. Copyright 1894 and 1895, by James Gordon Bennett.
Reprinted by permission of Charles Scribner's Sons
As
S THE American marriage appears to be above all a partner-
ship, so the American family appears to be more than
anything else an association, a sort of social camp, the
ties of which are more or less strong according to individual
sympathies, such as might exist between people not of the same
blood. I am certain, not from anecdotes but from experience,
that the friendship of brother and brother, or sister and sister,
is entirely elective. So it is with the relations between father
and son, mother and daughter. A young Frenchman much in
love with a New York girl said to me, in one of those moments
-
## p. 2255 (#453) ###########################################
PAUL BOURGET
2255
when the coldness of the woman you love drives you to be
cruelly frank:-
"She has so little heart that she went to the theatre five
weeks after her mother's death, and no one resented it. "
I knew that he was telling the truth. But what did it prove?
What do the inequalities permitted by the laws of inheritance
prove? Nothing, if not that our natural characteristics, instincts,
sensibilities, are not the same as those of the people of this
country. They have much less power of self-giving, much more
of personal reaction; and especially a much stronger will. Their
will rules their hearts as well as their minds. This seems to us
less tender. But are we good judges?
We must continually keep in mind this general want of asso-
ciation in family life if we would in any degree understand the
sort of soul-celibacy, if we may use the term, which the Amer-
ican woman keeps all through her married life. No more in this
second period of her life than in the first does love bear that
preponderating part which seems to us Frenchmen an essential
characteristic of the lot of woman. When a Parisian woman of
forty reviews her life, the story that memory tells her is the
story of her emotions. To an American woman of the same age
it is more often the story of her actions,- of what she calls,
by a word I have before cited, her experiences. She gained,
between the ages of eighteen and twenty-five, a conception of
her own self which was imposed upon her neither by her tra-
ditions—she has none; nor by the instructions of her parents —
they never gave her any; nor even by her own nature - for it
is characteristic of these easily "adaptable" minds that their
first instincts are chaotic and undetermined. They are like a
blank check, which the will undertakes to fill out. But what-
ever the will writes upon it, is written in letters that will never
be effaced. Action, action, always action,- this is the remorse-
less but unchanging device of such a woman. Whether she
seeks for a place in society, or is ambitious for artistic culture,
or addicts herself to sport, or organizes "classes," as they say,
for reading Browning, Emerson, or Shakespeare, with her friends;
whether she travels to Europe, India, or Japan, or gives an «< at
home" to have some young girl among her friends pour" tea
for her, be sure that she will be always and incessantly active,
indefatigably active, either in the lines of "refinement" or of
"excitement. "
-
<<
## p. 2256 (#454) ###########################################
2256
PAUL BOURGET
With what impressiveness these women utter both these
words! which we must not weary of returning to; for they per-
haps sum up the entire American soul. They are bandied about
in conversation like two formulæ, in which are revealed the per-
sistence of this creature, who, born of a stern race, and feeling
herself fine, wills to become finer and ever finer; who, reared
amid democratic surroundings, wills to become distinguished and
ever more distinguished; who, daughter of a land of enterprise,
loves to excite continually in herself the sensation of over-
strained nerves.
are the
When you see ten, fifteen, thirty, fifty like this, the character
of eccentricity, which you first found in them by comparison
with the women of Europe, disappears. A new type of feminine
attractiveness is revealed to you, less affecting than irritating,
enigmatic and slightly ambiguous by its indefinable blending of
supple grace and virile firmness, by the alliance of culture and
vigor, by the most thrilling nervous sensitiveness and the stur-
diest health. The true place of such a creature in this society
appears to you also, and the profound reason why these men,
themselves all action, leave these women free thus to act with
total independence. If it is permitted to apply an old legal
term to creatures so subtle, so delicate, these women
delegates to luxury in this utilitarian civilization. Their mis-
sion is to bring into it that which the American has not time to
create, and which he desires to have:-the flower of elegance,
something of beauty, and in a word, of aristocracy. They are
the nobility in this land of business, a nobility developed by the
very development of business; since the money which is made
in the offices comes at last to them, and manipulated by their
fingers, is transfigured, blossoming into precious decorations,
made intellectual in plays of fancy, in fact, unutilized. A
great artist, foremost of this epoch by the ardor of his efforts,
the conscientiousness of his study, and the sincerity of his vis-
ion, John Sargent, has shown what I have tried to express,
in a portrait I saw in an exhibition; that of a woman whose
name I do not know. It is a portrait such as the fifteenth-cen-
tury masters painted, who back of the individual found the real,
and back of the model a whole social order. The canvas might
be called The American Idol,' so representative is it.
The woman is standing, her feet side by side, her knees close
together, in an almost hieratic pose. Her body, rendered supple
-
-
-
## p. 2257 (#455) ###########################################
PAUL BOURGET
2257
by exercise, is sheathed-you might say molded-in a tight-
fitting black dress. Rubies, like drops of blood, sparkle on her
shoes. Her slender waist is encircled by a girdle of enormous
pearls, and from this dress, which makes an intensely dark back-
ground for the stony brilliance of the jewels, the arms and
shoulders shine out with another brilliance, that of a flower-like
flesh,-fine, white flesh, through which flows blood perpetually
invigorated by the air of the country and the ocean. The head,
intellectual and daring, with a countenance as of one who has
understood everything, has for a sort of aureole the vaguely
gilded design of one of those Renaissance stuffs which the
Venetians call soprarisso. The rounded arms, in which the mus-
cles can hardly be seen, are joined by the clasped hands, — firm
hands, the thumb almost too long, which might guide four
horses with the precision of an English coachman. It is the
picture of an energy at once delicate and invincible, momentarily
in repose; and all the Byzantine Madonna is in that face with
its wide-open eyes.
Yes, this woman is an idol, for whose service man labors,
which he has decked with the jewels of a queen, behind each
one of whose whims lie days and days spent in the ardent battle
of Wall Street. Frenzy of speculations in land, cities undertaken
and built by sheer force of millions, trains launched at full
speed over bridges built on a Babel-like sweep of arch, the
creaking of cable cars, the quivering of electric cars, sliding
along their wires with a crackle and a spark, the dizzy ascent of
elevators, in buildings twenty stories high, immense wheat-fields.
of the West, its ranches, mines, colossal slaughter-houses,—all
the formidable traffic of this country of effort and struggle, all
its labor,- these are what have made possible this woman, this
living orchid, unexpected masterpiece of this civilization.
Did not the very painter consecrate to her his intense toil?
To be capable of such a picture, he must have absorbed some of
the ardor of the Spanish masters, caught the subtlety of the
great Italians, understood and practiced the curiosities of impres-
sionism, dreamed before the pictures in basilicas like Ravenna,
and read and thought. Ah, how much of culture, of reflection,
before one could fathom the secret depths of one's own race!
He has expressed one of the most essential characteristics of the
race,
the deification of woman, considered not as a Beatrice as
in Florence, nor as a courtesan as at Milan, but as a supreme
glory of the national spirit.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
IV-142
## p. 2258 (#456) ###########################################
2258
PAUL BOURGET
This woman can do without being loved. She has no need
of being loved. What she symbolizes is neither sensuality nor
tenderness. She is like a living object of art, the last fine work
of human skill, attesting that the Yankee, but yesterday despair-
ing, vanquished by the Old World, has been able to draw from
this savage world upon which fate has cast him a wholly new
civilization, incarnated in this woman, her luxury and her pride.
Everything is illuminated by this civilization, at the gaze of
these fathomless eyes, in the expression of which the painter
has succeeded in putting all the idealism of this country which
has no ideal; all that which perhaps will one day be its destruc-
tion, but up to the present time is still its greatness, a faith in
the human Will, absolute, unique, systematic, and indomitable.
Copyrighted by Charles Scribner's Sons, New York.
-
--
THE ARISTOCRATIC VISION OF M. RENAN
From the Study of M. Renan'
HE sentiments I have tried to analyze are evidently of a rare
Delicate
flowers will not grow in the winds and fitful sunshine of
the public road. Their perfumed corollas expand only in the
mellowed air of hot-houses. Science is a kind of hot-house which
guards superior minds from the brutalities of real life. The
author of 'Dialogues philosophiques' is an exceptional person.
He is a superior man, to me a term very strong in its simplicity;
one might say almost that he is the superior man. Moreover, a
certain air of imperceptible irony and transcendental disdain
shows that he is conscious of this superiority. Disregard of vul-
gar opinion is very evident in his pages. The reserved elegance
of a style which never emphasizes any special intention; the
subtle arguments which never take the imperative tone; a strength
of feelings, none of which are exaggerated for the sake of sym-
pathy, all would reveal his aristocratic ideal, even if he had
not often declared that there is one domain for the initiated and
another for the simple. His political work on 'Reforme intel-
lectuelle et morale' contains the strongest argument of the last
hundred years against the very principle of democracy, natural
equality. His two symbolic dramas-Caliban' and 'Eau de
Jouvence' may be summed up in this reflection of the prior of
Chartreux, seated in his stall while the organ plays alone, and
## p. 2259 (#457) ###########################################
PAUL BOURGET
2259
the crowd presses around the crowned Caliban: "All civilization
is the work of aristocrats. " This truth the demagogue Caliban
himself recognizes, since as soon as possessed of the palace and
power of Prospero, he assumes aristocratic ways; and M. Renan,
always desirous of correcting by a smile even his dearest affirm-
ations, carefully adds that the monster of the island became a
very fair prince. Prospero proclaims that material work is the
slave of spiritual work. Everything must aid him who prays,-
that is, who thinks. Democratic minds, which do not admit
individual subordination to a general achievement, consider this
a monstrous doctrine.
Finally, the 'Dialogues philosophiques,' in the part entitled
'Dreams,' contain a complete plan for the subjection of the
greatest number by a chosen few.
Is it bold to consider
his feeling for his native soil the germ of his aristocratic ideal?
Other determining circumstances unite with it, all of which
may be summed up in the term "superior man," which seems
simple enough, but which may be decomposed into a series of
complex characters. The superior man differs from the man of
genius, who may be unintelligent enough, and from the man of
talent, who is often a mere specialist, in an ability to form gen-
eral ideas about everything. If this power of generalizing is not
combined with equal creative power, the superior man remains a
critic. But if he possesses both, he is an exceptional being and
the highest conceivable type, that of conscious genius. Cæsar is
an example of this in politics; Da Vinci in painting; and the
great Goethe in literature. Even if he does not reach these
heights, the superior man is one of the most useful instruments
of society. For universal comprehension usually includes a uni-
versal aptitude. Is not this demonstrated in England, where
favorable conditions have developed many examples? What are
great political characters like Disraeli and Macaulay, who could
apply an ever-ready intelligence to literary composition and par-
liamentary struggles, to financial interests and diplomatic difficult-
ies, but superior men?
.
Conceive such a one thrown into the democratic current by
chances of birth, and you will realize the contrasts of environ-
ment and character which have led M. Renan to the conception
of an ideal so unusual. Democracy seems at a first glance very
favorable to talent, for it opens all doors to all efforts. But
at the same time it strengthens the hard law of competition.
## p. 2260 (#458) ###########################################
2260
PAUL BOURGET
1
Therefore it requires a greater specialization. Then, democracy is
founded upon equality, of which the logical consequence is uni-
versal suffrage. It needs little analysis to know that universal
suffrage is hostile to the superior man. The mental attitudes
resulting from advanced study are usually-multiplicity of points
of view; a taste for nice distinctions; a disdain for absolute state-
ment; and search for intricate solutions; all of which are
refinements antagonistic to the popular love of positive assertion.
Therefore a superior man finds the morals of a democracy un-
favorable to his development, while its laws hold him back from
public affairs. So, many distinguished minds in France to-day
are excluded from government; or if they have triumphed over
the ostracism to which their divorce from common passions con-
demns them, it is because they disguise this divorce under pro-
fessions which are void of intellectual impartiality. The superior
man exiled in what Sainte-Beuve calls "the ivory tower" watches
the drama of national life as one who sees its future possibilities.
Is it necessary to recall that one of this class of élite has shown
a veritable gift of prophecy? To cite only one example, were
not the disasters of 1870 predicted with surprising exactness in
the France nouvelle' of Prévost-Paradol, victim like Renan of
universal suffrage? It is evident that a strange melancholy op-
presses these lofty minds, weighed down under the conviction of
their ideal strength and their real weakness. The insolent tri-
umph of the mediocre adds to this sadness. But it is not quite
without sweetness. It has something of the pleasure extolled
by Lucretius in the famous verses on those temples of the calm
faith from which the sage regards the wild struggle of the pas-
sions. But the superior man of to-day will never know the full
enjoyment which the nervous systems of the ancients permitted
them. The mind can do a great deal, but it is powerless to
remodel our native faculties. Whether we hate or venerate the
democracy, we are its sons and inherit its imperious need of
combat. The obscure and revolutionary nineteenth century is in
our blood, and prohibits the inner immobility, the mental quiet,
celebrated by the Epicureans of Greece and Rome. There is
agitation in our serenities, as in our submissions. Catholics or
atheists, monarchists or republicans, all the offspring of this age
of anguish have the anxious look, the quaking heart, the trem-
bling hands of the great battle of the time. Even those who
try to stand aloof share the common anxiety. They too are
-
## p. 2261 (#459) ###########################################
PAUL BOURGET
2261
revolutionists like the others, but they oppose human stupidity,
and their mute rebellion is called disdain.
It would be interesting to study among contemporary scholars
the different forms of this disdain. Does not the exaggeration
of technical beauties, which is a feature of the school of poets
ironically called Parnassians, proceed from this sentiment of Odi
profanum vulgus? Did not Gustave Flaubert compose 'Bouvard
et Péchuchet' under this inspiration? Would Taine have under-
taken his 'Histoire des origines de la France contemporaine' if
he had not been tormented by a longing to understand the dem-
ocratic tide which was sweeping him away? But no writer has
felt more strongly than M. Renan the antithesis of the superior
man and democracy.
One must read and re-read those pages
of the Dialogues' where Theoctiste imagines the victory of a
future oligarchy, to appreciate the intensity of passion employed
in the examination of these problems. He conceives that the
learned will secure formidable destructive agents, requiring the
most delicate calculations and much abstract knowledge. Then,
exulting in their power, the dreamer exclaims:-"Thus the
forces of humanity would some day be held in a few hands, and
would be possessed by a league which could rule the existence
of the planet and terrorize the whole world. If those most
endowed with reason had ability to destroy the planet, their
sovereignty would be established. The privileged class would
reign by absolute terror, since they would have the existence of
all in their hands. They would be almost gods, and then would
be realized the theological state dreamed by the poet for prim-
itive humanity: 'Primus in orbe Deos fecit timor. '" We must
not attach more reality to this tragic fancy than the author
intended, but it shows an incurably wounded heart; and proves
that the scholar who drew this gloomy picture has no great ten-
derness for the favorite Utopias of the age.
An open break is possible between democracy and science, the
two great forces of modern society. Certainly while the tendency
of the first is to level, that of the second is to create differences.
"Knowledge is power," said the inductive philosopher. To know
ten times as much as another is to be ten times as capable; and
as intellectual inequality forbids a uniform degree of information,
there is increasing opposition between democratic tendencies
and the social results of science. There are several solutions,
as in nearly all the complicated problems as to the future. In
## p. 2262 (#460) ###########################################
2262
PAUL BOURGET
formulating the hypothesis of the 'Dialogues,' M. Renan indi-
cates one of them. Another may be simply an application of
science to the organization of societies. An unprejudiced consid-
eration of the principles upon which our nineteenth-century
society is founded proves their Cartesian character, very different
already from modern philosophy. But there is a secret move-
ment of minds. The conceptions of Darwin and Herbert Spencer
permeate the new ones. We must have faith in the worth of the
doctrines which will eventually overthrow politics, as well as
natural science and literature. A time is coming when a society
will not seem to the philosophers of evolution as it did to the
last inheritors of the classic spirit. It will appear, not the oper-
ation of a logical contract, but the action of a confederation of
organisms of which the cell is the unit. This is very different
from the reigning idea. It is exclusive of any difference between
democrat and aristocrat, for such difference means an arbitrary
classification of the different social elements. If this consoling
vision is not a simple chimera, it may be remembered that the
great scorners like M. Renan are active workmen for its accomp-
lishment, in that they formulate it very exactly, and face the
coming conflict with sorrowfully keen relief.
These summary notes upon one of our most remarkable men
only indicate the three or four states of conscience which he rep-
resents to the young people who read his books and meditate
upon their eloquent, disquieting pages. No other author offers
more that is fresh in thought and feeling, for no other employs
greater sincerity in thought and in exposition of sentiment.
Whoever studies the springs of moral life in the rising genera-
tion, meets everywhere his influence. Not before a hundred
years hence can his achievement be measured.
If there are any
who do not worship sincerity and reverence, they should devote
themselves to the books of M. Renan; for no one has practiced
these qualities with greater constancy than he, who on the first
page of his 'Vie de Jésus' invokes the pure spirit of the ven-
erated Dead, and who prayed to him in a melancholy petition to
the unattainable-"O good Genius, reveal to me whom you
love, the truths which govern death, keep one from fearing and
make one almost love it! "
## p. 2263 (#461) ###########################################
2263
SIR JOHN BOWRING
(1792-1872)
T WILL be the height of my ambition," once wrote Sir John
Bowring to a friend, "to do something which may connect
my name with the literature of the age. "
This desire was accomplished; for the distinguished linguist,
scholar, and diplomat of England rendered genuine service to litera-
ture by his translations of Slavonic and Oriental verses into the
English tongue. These were more than translations: they were
studies of the national song. Bowring was one of the first scholars
to appreciate the beauty, the importance,
and the charm of the traditional ballad and
lyric; those faithful records of the joys,
sorrows, superstitions, and history of a peo-
ple. In the various East-European lan-
guages wherein Bowring's researches bore
such valuable fruit,-embracing Bohemian,
Polish, Russian, Hungarian, Servian, and
Bulgarian, the race-soul of these nations
is preserved: their wild mythology, their
bizarre Oriental color, their impassioned
thought, their affections and traditions, and
often the sorrows and ideals learned during
centuries of vain wanderings and heavy
oppressions. In this rich and romantic field, which has been assid-
uously cultivated since his time, Bowring was a pioneer.
SIR JOHN BOWRING
John Bowring, born on October 17th, 1792, came of an old Puritan
family, long identified with the woolen trade. "In the early days,"
he tells us, "the Exeter merchants were mostly traveled men with a
practical knowledge of other tongues, and the quay at Exeter was
crowded with the ships of all nations. " Thus his imagination was kin-
dled by the visible links to far-away countries, and from intercourse
with the emigrants of various nations he acquired the foundation of
his brilliant linguistic attainments.
In 1811 he went to London as clerk to a commercial house, which
sent him to Spain in 1813, and subsequently to France, Belgium,
Holland, Russia, and Sweden. Immediately on his return to London
he published the first of his translations, Specimens of the Russian
Poets' (1820). In 1822 he published a second volume of Russian verse
## p. 2264 (#462) ###########################################
2264
SIR JOHN BOWRING
and a translation of Chamisso's whimsical tale Peter Schlemihl'; and
when in 1824 his friend Jeremy Bentham founded the Westminster
Review, Bowring became one of its editors. He contributed to it
numerous essays on political and literary topics, one of which, on
the literature of Finland, published in 1827, first brought the poetry
of that country into notice. In 1849 he was sent on a mission to
China; in 1854 was made plenipotentiary and knighted, and remained
in China during the Taeping insurrection, being made governor of
Hong Kong. In 1859 he resigned the post.
With the exception of negotiating commercial treaties for England
between the Hawaiian court and various European States, the remain-
der of his life was spent quietly in the pursuit of literary pleasures.
Even in his old age he translated fugitive poetry, wrote essays on
political, literary, and social questions of the hour, and frequently
delivered lectures. He died November 23d, 1872, in Exeter, within
sight of his birthplace under the shadows of the massive cathedral.
"In my travels," he said, "I have never been very ambitious of the
society of my countrymen, but have always sought that of the
natives; and there are few men, I believe, who can bear a stronger
or a wider testimony to the general kindness and hospitality of the
human family when the means of intercourse exist. My experiences
of foreign lands are everywhere connected with the most pleasing
and the most grateful remembrances. " In 1873 Lady Bowring pub-
lished a 'Memorial Volume of Sacred Poetry,' containing many of
his popular hymns; and in 1877 his Autobiographical Recollections'
were published, with a memoir by his son.
Sir John Bowring was a natural linguist of the first order. He
knew and spoke over a hundred languages, and affirmed that he
often dreamed in foreign tongues. His friend Tom Hood humor-
ously referred to his gifts in the following verse:—
«To Bowring! man of many tongues,
(All over tongues, like rumor)
This tributary verse belongs
To paint his learnèd humor.
All kinds of gab he knows, I wis,
From Latin down to Scottish-
As fluent as a parrot is,
But far more Polly-glottish.
No grammar too abstruse he meets,
However dark and verby;
He gossips Greek about the streets
And often Russ-in urbe.
Strange tongues- whate'er you do them call:
In short, the man is able
## p. 2265 (#463) ###########################################
SIR JOHN BOWRING
2265
To tell you what o'clock in all
The dialects of Babel.
Take him on Change-in Portuguese,
The Moorish and the Spanish,
Polish, Hungarian, Tyrolese,
The Swedish and the Danish:
Try him with these, and fifty such,
His skill will ne'er diminish;
Although you should begin in Dutch,
And end (like me) in Finnish. »
Bowring was a member of many learned societies, and had honors
and decorations without stint, including the Order of the White
Elephant, the Swedish Order of the Northern Star, and the Order of
Kamehameha I. His publications are a 'Russian Anthology,' 'Matins
and Vespers,' 'Batavian Anthology,' 'Ancient Poetry and Romances
of Spain, Peter Schlemihl,' 'Servian Popular Poetry,' 'Specimens
of the Polish Poets,' 'Sketch of the Language and Literature of
Holland,' 'Poetry of the Magyars,' 'Cheskian Anthology,' 'Minor
Morals,' 'Observations on Oriental Plague and Quarantines,' 'Manu-
script of the Queen's Court: a Collection of Old Bohemian Lyrico-
Epic Songs,' 'Kingdom and People of Siam,' A Visit to the
Philippine Islands,' Translations from Petöfi,' The Flowery Scroll'
(translation of a Chinese novel), and The Oak' (a collection of
original tales and sketches). He also edited the works of Jeremy
Bentham. Of his translations, the 'Servian Anthology' has been the
most admired for the skill and ease with which the wild beauty of
the poems, and their national spirit, has been preserved. At the time
of its publication, the collection of Servian popular poetry called
'Narodne srpske pjesme' had just appeared, and was the first attempt
to put into literary form the ballads and lyric songs sung by the
wandering minstrels and the people.
THE CROSS OF CHRIST
IN THE Cross of Christ I glory,
IN
Tow'ring o'er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime.
When the woes of life o'ertake me,
Hopes deceive and fears annoy,
Never shall the Cross forsake me
Lo! it glows with peace and joy.
## p. 2266 (#464) ###########################################
2266
SIR JOHN BOWRING
When the sun of bliss is beaming
Light and love upon my way,
From the Cross the radiance streaming
Adds more lustre to the day.
Bane and blessing, pain and pleasure,
By the Cross are sanctified;
Peace is there that knows no measure,
Joys that through all time abide.
In the Cross of Christ I glory,
Tow'ring o'er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime.
WATCHMAN! WHAT OF THE NIGHT?
ATCHMAN! tell us of the night,
What its signs of promise are:
Traveler! o'er yon mountain's height
See that glory-beaming star!
Watchman! doth its beauteous ray
Aught of hope or joy foretell?
Traveler! yes, it brings the day,
Promised day of Israel.
W
Watchman! tell us of the night;
Higher yet that star ascends:
Traveler! blessedness and light,
Peace and truth, its course portends.
Watchman! will its beams alone
Gild the spot that gave them birth?
Traveler! ages are its own,
And it bursts o'er all the earth.
Watchman! tell us of the night,
For the morning seems to dawn:
Traveler! darkness takes its flight,
Doubt and terror are withdrawn.
Watchman! let thy wanderings cease;
Hie thee to thy quiet home:
Traveler! lo! the Prince of Peace,
Lo! the Son of God is come!
L
## p. 2267 (#465) ###########################################
SIR JOHN BOWRING
2267
F
HYMN
ROM the recesses of a lowly spirit
My humble prayer ascends-O Father! hear it!
Upsoaring on the wings of fear and meekness,
Forgive its weakness.
I know, I feel, how mean and how unworthy
The trembling sacrifice I pour before Thee;
What can I offer in Thy presence holy,
But sin and folly?
For in Thy sight who every bosom viewest,
Cold are our warmest vows, and vain our truest;
Thoughts of a hurrying hour, our lips repeat them,
Our hearts forget them.
We see Thy hand - it leads us, it supports us;
We hear Thy voice-it counsels and it courts us;
And then we turn away—and still thy kindness
Pardons our blindness.
Ard still Thy rain descends, Thy sun is glowing,
Fruits ripen round, flowers are beneath us blowing,
And, as if man were some deserving creature,
Joys cover nature.
Oh, how long-suffering, Lord! - but Thou delightest
To win with love the wandering; Thou invitest
By smiles of mercy, not by frowns or terrors,
Man from his errors.
Who can resist Thy gentle call-appealing
To every generous thought and grateful feeling?
That voice paternal-whispering, watching ever:
My bosom? - never.
Father and Savior! plant within that bosom
These seeds of holiness, and bid them blossom
In fragrance and in beauty bright and vernal,
And spring eternal.
Then place them in those everlasting gardens
Where angels walk, and seraphs are the wardens;
Where every flower that creeps through death's dark portal
Becomes immortal.
## p. 2268 (#466) ###########################################
2268
SIR JOHN BOWRING
FROM LUIS DE GONGORA — NOT ALL NIGHTINGALES
HEY are not all sweet nightingales,
That fill with songs the flowery vales;
But they are little silver bells,
Touched by the winds in smiling dells;
TH
Magic bells of gold in the grove,
Forming a chorus for her I love.
Think not the voices in the air
Are from the winged Sirens fair,
Playing among the dewy trees,
Chanting their morning mysteries;
Oh! if you listen, delighted there,
To their music scattered o'er the dales,
They are not all sweet nightingales,
That fill with songs the flowery vales;
But they are the little silver bells
Touched by the winds in the smiling dells;
Magic bells of gold in the grove,
Forming a chorus for her I love.
Oh! 'twas a lovely song -- of art
To charm-of nature to touch the heart;
Sure 'twas some Shepherd's pipe, which, played
By passion, fills the forest shade:
No! 'tis music's diviner part
Which o'er the yielding spirit prevails.
They are not all sweet nightingales,
That fill with songs the flowery vales;
But they are the little silver bells
Touched by the winds in the smiling dells;
Magic bells of gold in the grove,
Forming a chorus for her I love.
In the eye of love, which all things sees,
The fragrance-breathing jasmine trees-
And the golden flowers-and the sloping hill-
And the ever-melancholy rill-
Are full of holiest sympathies.
And tell of love a thousand tales.
They are not all sweet nightingales,
That fill with songs the flowery vales,
## p. 2269 (#467) ###########################################
SIR JOHN BOWRING
2269
But they are the little silver bells
Touched by the winds in the smiling dells;
Magic bells of gold in the grove,
Forming a chorus for her I love.
From Ancient Poetry and Romances of Spain. '
FROM JOHN KOLLAR-SONNET
HERE came three minstrels in the days of old
TH To the Avaric savage-in their hands
Their own Slavonian citharas they hold:
"And who are ye! " the haughty Khan demands,
Frowning from his barbaric throne: "and where-
Say where your warriors- where your sisters be. "
"We are Slavonians, monarch! and come here
From the far borders of the Baltic sea:
We know no wars no arms to us belong -
We cannot swell your ranks-'tis our employ
Alone to sing the dear domestic song. "
And then they touched their harps in doubtful joy.
"Slaves! " said the tyrant -"these to prison lead,
For they are precious hostages indeed! "
From the Cheskian Anthology. '
FROM BOGDANOVICH (OLD RUSSIAN) — SONG
HAT to the maiden has happened?
What to the gem of the village?
Ah! to the gem of the village.
WHA
Seated alone in her cottage,
Tremblingly turned to the window;
Ah! ever turned to the window.
Like the sweet bird in its prison,
Pining and panting for freedom;
Ah! how 'tis pining for freedom!
Crowds of her youthful companions
Come to console the loved maiden;
Ah! to console the loved maiden.
## p. 2270 (#468) ###########################################
2270
SIR JOHN BOWRING
"Smile then, our sister, be joyful;
Clouds of dust cover the valley;
Ah! see, they cover the valley.
"Smile then, our sister, be joyful;
List to the hoof-beat of horses;
Oh! to the hoof-beat of horses. "
Then the maid looked through the window.
Saw the dust-clouds in the valley;
Oh! the dust-clouds in the valley.
Heard the hoof-beat of the horses,
Hurried away from the cottage;
Oh! to the valley she hurries.
"Welcome, O welcome! thou loved one. "
See, she has sunk on his bosom;
Oh! she has sunk on his bosom.
Now all her grief has departed:
She has forgotten the window;
Oh! quite forgotten the window.
Now her eye looks on her loved one,
Beaming with brightness and beauty;
Oh! 'tis all brightness and beauty.
From Specimens of the Russian Poets. "
FROM BOBROV - THE GOLDEN PALACE
[Sung at midnight in the Greek churches the last week before Easter. ]
THE
HE golden palace of my God
Tow'ring above the clouds I see
Beyond the cherubs' bright abode,
Higher than angels' thoughts can be:
How can I in those courts appear
Without a wedding garment on?
Conduct me, Thou life-giver, there;
Conduct me to Thy glorious throne:
And clothe me with thy robes of light,
And lead me through sin's darksome night,
My Savior and my God!
From Specimens of the Russian Poets. ▸
## p. 2271 (#469) ###########################################
SIR JOHN BOWRING
2271
FROM DMITRIEV— THE DOVE AND THE STRANGER
WHY
STRANGER
HY mourning there so sad, thou gentle dove?
DOVE
I mourn, unceasing mourn, my vanished love.
STRANGER
What, has thy love then fled, or faithless proved?
DOVE
Ah no! the sportsman murdered him I loved!
STRANGER
Unhappy one! beware! that sportsman's nigh!
DOVE
Oh, let him come- or else of grief I die.
From Specimens of the Russian Poets. ›
FROM SARBIEWSKI-SAPPHICS TO A ROSE
[Intended to be used in the garlands for decorating the head of the
Virgin Mary. ]
R°
OSE of the morning, in thy glowing beauty
Bright as the stars, and delicate and lovely,
Lift up thy head above thy earthly dwelling,
Daughter of heaven!
Wake! for the watery clouds are all dispersing;
Zephyr invites thee,- frosts and snows of winter
All are departed, and Favonian breezes
Welcome thee smiling.
Rise in thy beauty;-wilt thou form a garland
Round the fair brow of some beloved maiden?
Pure though she be, unhallowed temple never,
Flow'ret! shall wear thee.
-
Thou shouldst be wreathed in coronal immortal —
Thou shouldst be flung upon a shrine eternal -
Thou shouldst be twined among the golden ringlets
Of the pure Virgin.
From Specimens of the Polish Poets. >
## p. 2272 (#470) ###########################################
2272
HJALMAR HJORTH BOYESEN
(1848-1895)
B
OYESEN had thoroughly assimilated the spirit of his native
Norway before he left it. In the small southern seaport of
Friedricksvaern he had lived the happy adventurous boy-
hood depicted in those loving reminiscences 'Boyhood in Norway. '
He knew the rugged little land and the sparkling fiords; his imagin-
ation had delighted in Necken and Hulder and trolls, and all the
charming fantastic sprites of the Northland. So when he was far
away, during his bread-winning struggles in America, they grew
clearer and dearer in perspective; and in
'Gunnar,' 'A Norseman's Pilgrimage,'
'Ilka on the Hilltop,' and other delight-
ful books, he bequeathed these memories
to his adopted land.
He came of well-to-do people, and re-
ceived a liberal education at the gymna-
sium of Christiania, the University of
Leipsic, and the University of Norway.
His father, professor of mathematics at
the Naval Academy, had made several
trips to the United States and had been
impressed by the opportunities offered
there to energetic young men. Upon his
urgent advice, Hjalmar when about twenty-
HJALMAR H. BOYESEN
one came to America, and soon obtained a position upon a Norwegian
newspaper, the Fremad of Chicago.
From childhood he had longed to write, but had been discouraged
by his father, who expatiated upon the limitations of their native
tongue, and assured him that to succeed in literature he must be
able to write in another language as readily as in his own. Even in
his school days he had shown a remarkable aptitude for languages;
not only for understanding and speaking them, but for a sympathetic
comprehension of foreign literatures, and that sensitiveness to shades
of expression which so rarely comes to any but a native.
