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5. He felt that poetry was a universal presence. Great minds were everywhere his kindred. He felt the enchant ment of oriental fiction, surrendered himself to the strange creations of "Araby the blest,” and delighted still more in the romantic spirit of chivalry, and in the tales of wonder in which it was embodied. Accordingly, his poetry reminds us of the ocean, which adds to its own boundlessness, contributions from all regions under heaven.
6. Nor was it only in the department of imagination that his acquisitions were vast. He traveled over the whole field of knowledge, as far as it had then been explored. His various philological attainments were used to put him in possession of the wisdom stored in all countries where the intellect had been cultivated. The natural philosophy, metaphysics, ethics, history, theology, and political science of his own and former times, were familiar to him. Never was there a more unconfined mind; and we would cite Milton as a practical example of the benefits of that universal culture of intellect, which forms one distinction of our times, but which some dread as unfriendly to original thought.
7. Let such remember that mind is, in its own nature, diffusive. Its object is the universe, which is strictly one, or bound together by infinite connections and correspondencies; and, accordingly, its natural progress is from one field of thought to another, and wherever original power or creative genius exists, the mind, far from being distracted or oppressed by the variety of its acquisitions, will see more and more bearings, and hidden and beautiful analogies in all the objects of knowledge, will see mutual light shed from truth to truth, and will compel, as with a kingly power, whatever it understands to yield some tribute of proof, or illustration, or splendor, to whatever topic it would unfold.
Greece proper. Between two rocks on this mountain issues what poets call the Par nassian spring. a Metaphysics; the science of mind or intelligence.
[Before reading this piece it would be well to consult the directions given on page 62.]
COL. WALSINGHAM-BARON HOHENDAHL
Hohendahl. I have it here in proof;
Wal. It cannot be !
Walsingham. Nay! my good lord! you carry this too far Alasco leader of a band of rebels !
By heaven it cannot be ! your spies deceive you.
And when the fit is on, like other fools,
He raves of liberty and public rights;
But he would scorn to lead the low cabals
Of vassal discontent and vulgar turbulence.
Hoh. My good old friend! your loyal nature yields
And stir the very dregs and lees of life,
The subject moves you.
His father was my friend and fellow-soldier ;
He fell; his wife and son, with his last breath,
Yes, it does, indeed!
Bequeathing to my care; a sacred trust,
To form him like his father; and indeed,
So apt in honor and all worth he grew,
Alasco. A subject, sir, unworthy of discussion,
If slander have not given it a zest.
Wal. Slander, Alasco!
Alas. Ay, sir, slander 's abroad,
And busy; few escape her; she can take
All shapes; and sometimes, froin the blistered lips
On all who dare dispute the claims of pride,
Or question the high privilege of oppression.
Hoh. Your words seem pointed, sir, and splenetic.
Wal. What means this heat, Alasco? Innocence
Alas. He's on his guard who knows his enemy,
Alasco Count Alasco!
'Tis now, methinks, some twenty years, or more, Since that brave man, your father, and my friend, While life scarce fluttered on his quivering lips, Consigned your youthful fortunes to my care.
Sir, your pleasure?
Alas. And nobly, sir, your generous spirit stands
Acquitted of that trust.
Wal. 'Tis well! perhaps
I may assume I've been Alasco's friend.
Alas. My friend! my father! say, my more than
And let me still, with love and reverence, pay
Wal. A son of mine
Must be the soul of loyalty and honor;
Alas. Is this to me! has slander gone so far,
How suits it with the honor of Alasco, To plot against his country's peace, and league With low confederates, for a lawless purpose? Maneuvering miscreants in the form of war, And methodizing tumult?
Have I done this?
Wal. How must it soothe thy father's hovering shade, To hear his name, so long to glory dear, Profaned and sullied in sedition's mouth, The countersign of turbulence and treason
Alas. The proud repulse that suits a charge like this, Preferred by lips less reverenced, I forbear.
Wal. Are you not stained
With foul disloyalty; a blot indelible?
Have you not practised on the senseless rabble,
Alas. No! by heaven, not so!
With most unworthy patience have I borne
And fraud and rapine registered in blood;
Alas. Tyrants, proud lord, are never safe, nor should be.
Hoh. Your patriot care, sir, would redress all wrongs
Alas. Why, if there were some slanderous tool of state,
Some taunting, dull, unmannered deputy,
Hoh. Ha! darest thou thus provoke me, insolent! Wal. [Advancing between them.] Rash boy, forbear! My lord, you are too hasty.
Alas. This reproof is your protection from my arm. Wal. Methinks, young man, a friend of mine might claim More reverence at your hands.
Alas. Thy friend! by heaven !
That sacred title might command my worship,