706 IN MEMORIAM. THE death of Mr. Eliakim Littell-May 17, 1870-who was for twenty-six years editor of the Living Age, closed a life of rare virtue and usefulness. To the readers of this magazine, who have so often been refreshed and instructed by his cultivated taste and discriminating judgment in literature, a brief memoir of him may not be unacceptable. tion of several other periodicals than those al ready named, which, though not pecuniarily successful, were always edited with ability, and with the same earnest endeavour to refine and elevate the popular taste and character. Never was there a more truly public-spirited man, in the highest sense of the term. His wish to do good was shown equally in his boundless private benevolence, and in his consistent preference of Mr. Littell was born January 2, 1797, in usefulness to profit in his business undertakings. During the late war Mr. Littell upheld the Burlington, New Jersey, of which state his ancestors on both sides were among the very ear-national cause earnestly and hopefully. At this liest settlers. His paternal grandfather, from crisis he made a number of important contribuwhom he derived his name, was a patriotic and tions to the discussion of difficult financial probactive partisan officer in the Revolutionary war. lems, and his opinions on the currency, taxation, Mr. Littell's career in the world of letters and questions of finance, were often sought by commenced in Philadelphia, as a general pub-statesmen and men high in office. He was the lisher, but his interest and attention very soon author of the scheme of revenue reform known became concentrated upon periodical literature. as the "Compromise Tariff," which was adopted In 1819 he began to publish and edit the Na- and carried through Congress by Mr. Clay, durtional Recorder, a weekly journal which was af-ing the administration of President Jackson. It terwards changed to the Saturday Magazine, is an evidence of Mr. Littell's modesty that this and finally merged in the Museum of Foreign fact was not known to some of his most intimate Literature and Science. The last was a monthly friends until after his death. publication and included nearly everything that was really worthy of reproduction in the periodical literature of Great Britain. For twenty-one years it had a brilliant reputation, and held the foremost rank among publications of a similar character in this country. It was afterwards united for a short time with another publication, under the name of the Eclectic Museum of For-quaintance with authors of more recent date. eign Literature, and published in New York. In 1844 he removed to Boston, where, under the cordial approval and encouragement of Judge Story, Chancellor Kent, Mr. Prescott, John Quincy Adams, and other leading men of taste and judgment, he entered upon the editorship and publication of the Living Age, a magazine of wider scope in literature and science than any he had previously conducted. To those who have been familiar with its pages it is scarcely necessary to speak of its merits. Dr. Allibone, in his Dictionary of Authors, observes, that "few men have laboured so long and so successfully in the great cause of public education, and few, therefore, are so well entitled to the gratitude of their countrymen, as the subject of this notice. Many of them owe to him their first introduction to the great minds of the past half-century; the commencement of that profitable acquaintance which has soothed the pangs of sorrow, and dispelled the gloomy shades of care, and made them wiser and better, happier and more contented men." In early life Mr. Littell's great mental activity and industry were manifested in the projec He had from early youth an intense thirst for knowledge, and diligently availed himself of every opportunity to gratify this taste. Few persons possessed a more thorough knowledge of English literature. In the older writers his reading had been extensive and varied, and his occupations were such as to facilitate his so He wrote fluently and gracefully both in prose and verse, and his letters were remarkable for an aptness of expression, an ease and sprightli ness, which will not be forgotten by those who enjoyed the privilege of correspondence with him. Mr. Littell's domestic and social character will be ever lovingly remembered by those who knew him well. The tenderness of his family affections, the fidelity and disinterestedness of his friendships, his genial manner and gentle courtesy to all with whom he came in contact, the pleasant wit and mirthful fancy which age had not withered and which lent such a charm to his conversation, and the sincerity and truth that were impressed upon all his acts and opinions, will live in the memory of his family and friends. His religious convictions were earnest and abiding, and his life and character were moulded and guided by them. He died in the communion of the Protestant Episcopal Church to which he had been long and ardently attached, with vigour of mind unabated, sustained by a reasonable, religious and holy hope; at peace with God and in perfect charity with all men. Translated from the Revue des Deux Mondes. THE POETRY AND POETS OF THE PRESENT row. GENERATION. WHAT is poetically called a bird-concert on spring mornings is an unrestrained warbling, where it is difficult to distinguish the shrill cry of the tomtit, the loud voice of the oriole, or the varying chirp of the sparA reader, without prejudice or previous preparation, might find something analagous in the confusion of songs which our poets offer to an inattentive audience. Indeed at the first glance cast at the poetry of the last three or four years we see nothing but resemblances: it seems to be a sign of the times; nearly all belongs to lyric poetry, all is detached and fragmentary, the spirit of enterprise and ambition is wanting. The form does not differ perceptibly in one writer or another; a little more, or a little less skill in innovation; the division of the verses and the revivification of the language are everywhere the object of serious study. When we look a little closer, this uniformity disappears: the process being seemingly the same, there are yet different attempts, the same methods are used to attract, but the spirit is not the same. The stanza which is applicable to any subject, the inflexible sonnet, the Dantean terzet which is so much used, are employed for the most opposite designs. Poets expatiate upon the art which they practise, but they do not agree as to the object of that art. the same time, as it is the enemy of that The almost absolute royalty of the de- The beautiful is in art as in life, Old men failing, the young will tell it. Contemporaneous poetry, then, began by attempts more or less brilliant which make it something exterior and impersonal; when tried it proved something very different. In proposing these as the principal subject of our sketch, we shall find memorials of the starting point and traces of the road already traversed. Many descriptions and pictures which are not all cold and systematic, praiseworthy efforts to make philosophy speak in verse, a character more humane and cordial in some of our young authors: such are the results which we have withdrawn from the numerous collections which have appeared during the last three years. Many regard it as an ornament of society; beyond the pleasure which it affords, they see nothing to be demanded from it. One of the most characteristic traits of the literary period corresponding to the second empire, is that art has never been more regarded for its own sake. Hence, perhaps comes the optimism of an official report, addressed to the Superintendent of Public Education, last year, on the progress of that line of literature. A too confident authority and a too eager compliance dictated its inferences. This report will, at least, remain as a curious monument of the progress accomplished in our days, not only by poetry in general, but by such as is a delight alike to mind and ear. Descriptive and musical, this school considers itself the most direct heir of those masters who have revived among us rhythm and color. At exactly designed to dismiss them? For-. I. How has the descriptive style so decried towards the end of the restoration regained favor with us, so much so that the poetry of the second empire recalls that of the first in more than one point? How have the conceits, the minutiae of a worn-out school been renewed at the close of a renovation or Sanscrit literature. Some reservation must be made in favor of the former, who, at times, remembers his natal isle and the Orient sun. "Love of country is more powerful than any system,' so may be rendered a celebrated line from Ovid, whose metamorphoses M. de Lisle has perhaps read too often and his elegies not often enough. For once, true nature, taken in the act, has served him well. His "Jaguar's Dream" is a fit mate for the "Jungles" of his 'Poems and Poetry." He is however an erudite descriptive poet, as well as M. Louis Ménard; but, if we dwell upon him, it is because he is the most skilful versifier of ་ merly methodical and coldly ingenious with | The mythology to which they remain faithful, Delille, Esménard, Michaud, descriptive ranks them above those who invent the napoetry, without changing basis, has to-day ture they describe. When it is not found the form and allurements of the old. In- in their imagination, they seek it in Greek stead of gleaning the field with classic regularity, it collects its sheaf in the romantic style, first on this side, then on that. Formerly, descriptive poets said that everything was fitted for verse, and put into ingenious rhyme what was only meant for prose; the descriptive poets of the present day say poetry is everywhere, it is enough to know how to separate it. How many times has it been said, it is in the beaming star, in the moaning wave, in the bending flower, in the drop of dew and in the blade of grass! and how many commonplaces do we owe to these unlimited exaggerations! Because descriptions were clothed in lyric garb, they have often passed for poetry, the very our age, and has exercised an incontestable process of renewal serving to hide the rep-influence over young poets. In the absence etitions. No, the most beautiful, most di- of a writer who can seize the heart, youth vine of arts, is not in the star nor in the blade may be caught by the ears, detail captures of grass. It is taking it in a gross sense to it. On the death of Alfred de Musset, M. understand it thus. To describe is some- Leconte de Lisle was ready to receive a times well, to paint is better, but what part of his inheritance. Verse bold in outshould always be done, is to interpret na- line, phrases both musical and new, go far ture, not to render it materially, nor to to seduce imaginations which never yield make it up according to books. Besides half way. If we add that the art of handthis, the poet must not always attach him-ling color and adapting sound, which is the self to external nature, he must be able to look within himself and admire the horizons of the soul; secret of the whole, is the most easy thing to be communicated from master to pupil, it will not be astonishing that M. Leconte de Lisle, without being popular, should have a school, and that of all the poets of our day, he can fairly boast, not the most admirers, but the most disciples. To hearken to the echo of his genius in his soul. To invent, to copy, or interpret nature are three ways of describing which may serve to mark the character of many contemporary poets. We may be permitted to adopt The originality of his manner was the this division for them, were it only to intro- cause of his warrantable success; he had duce a little order in the conflict of talents, neither the false elegancies and the old which, by their diverse temperaments and broken lines of the so-called classic school, inclination to imitation, escape vigorous nor the labored inaccuracies and puerile efclassification. If we rank them according fects of the romantic school. In addition, as they follow external objects under such he has, above all, a manner of his own, or such aspects, we do not pretend that they which is the principal defect that he has always remain in the same point of view; imparted to his imitators. It is well to if we even class them among descriptive make good verses, to put into them brilwriters, we mean to say only that philosoph-liancy, breadth, great harmony; but to ical views or moral pictures are equally pique one's self on these qualities, to think foreign to them. Some poems which appeared in a rather too miscellaneous collection, the "Contemporary Parnassus," alone permit us to mention here MM. Leconte de Lisle and Louis Ménard. that all is done because these details are achieved, is to fail in the aim of poetry, although one become a writer like the first exemplar. Do not let us give too much * Crescit amor patriæ, ratione valentior omni. the dark dreams of the same pantheism. Such is at least the character of M. Leconte de Lisle in those poems where his pride blames God for all that the melancholy of others casts back upon mankind. We ask with what propriety young people who have nothing to complain of but the neglect shown to their works accustom themselves to the echoes of an excessive and exotic philosophy, whose fleeting charm is to them what music in the minor key is to nervous people. importance to mere detail. What matters | the guilt of despair: born in the same cliit to me whether you sit for eyes or hair, mate as the old gymnosophists of India, if after all, nature has not made you hand- one might almost say they took refuge in some? (The merit of this remark belongs not to us but to Horace, who made it long ago.) What is said of a man who walks affectedly? That he is false; why does he not walk naturally? One should walk, not display his legs. In the same way, when one writes, it is to express some idea, not to make a flourish of fine verses. The poets of the school we speak of should think more of the sentiments and ideas they are to express than of the way in which they express them, if they do not wish to be exposed to that justly aimed criticism of Diderot against all those who seem to say: "See how well I weep, how well I mourn, how well I beg!" They have also copied too much the mythology of him they call master. It is not because that title belongs to him as first occupant, for, not to mention the imitations When the ways of a master are too of André Chénier, which are by no means faithfully copied, even his turn of thought rare, attempts have been made to revive the is imitated. We owe to the brilliant exam- heathen gods by symbols; but purely deple of M. Leconte de Lisle not only a scriptive paganism must be left to M. Legreat many verses whose monotony is much conte de Lisle; the sculpturesque beauty more obvious than their wealth, but a con- of his verse could alone sustain it. Besides siderable dose of mythology and fatalism his mythology seemed a reaction against scattered through the recent collections of the time in which he wrote, a reaction verse. Doubtless the numerous contradic- against the modern spirit and beliefs, tions given in our time by mankind or by against the very personal poetry of the aufate to justice and liberty have carried too thors of our century. He goes back to the far the enervating philosophy of fatalism. age of Pericles, even to the cycle of InM. Leconte de Lisle lends a personal ex-dian poetry, to escape to an infinite distance pression to this kind of sentiment which it from the men and things of our time. He conis not well to borrow from him. Creole secrates his verses to Jupiter and Juno, — poets, in spite of themselves, are elegiac: I am wrong, to Zeus and Hera,- to shelter our Bourbon isle seems to have resolved himself from fanaticism or religious superto prove it by an uninterrupted succession stition. He lived among tombs, that nothof poets, mournful as musical. Whatever ing might make his heart beat, or stir his surprise our words may cause the stoicism of the author of " Antique Poems," he is no exception to this seeming law of his climate. It seems as if the tropical nature were too powerful for the man, and that, in giving him with a lavish hand harmony and brilliancy, she leaves him a deep feeling of his own weakness. Some, more plaintive, pour out in their verses the treasures of a melancholy which, at least with them, dates from an epoch anterior to that when melancholy was the fashion, and seemed as if it must survive the fictitious sorrows of a literature fallen into discredit; others, more concentrated, without reacting upon the tyranny of external influences, stiffen into soul. It was too much for a poet of remarkable talent to dwell for fifteen years upon this subject, seemingly exhausted, and in that world which is indeed dead; what will it be for a group of young writers who have neither the same reasons nor the same means for living amid the dust of a Necropolis ? Plastic description seems to have said its last word; the tardy sonnets upon a new statue have a chance of being read only during the Exposition of the present year. M. Théodore de Banville is at present sole representative of this class with his "Exiles." He is, perhaps, the only one left to-day of M. Gautier's school, the most gifted of the youth of fifteen years ago, the best known, the master of the sixteenth century merited thanks to the frequenters of studios. It is in the severe judgment of posterity, and Boia collection of short poems called "Les Prin-leau's estimate of him is unjust only in that cesses" that M. de Banville particularly re- he did not strike a balance between good and calls the master for whom he reserved his evil. Ronsard imitated without limits and most faithful worship. These princesses unskilfully. As Ronsard did with Pindar, are the goddesses of fable; in their com- M. Théodore de Banville has done with Vicpany, the author has placed Herodias, the tor Hugo, Musset, Gautier and Leconte dé lovely enemy of St. John the Baptist, and Lisle. In still another way Ronsard's examthe Queen of Sheba. Each is set in a son- ple might set him on the right road. This net like a picture in its frame; you know is no place to ask if the worthy writer of that style of art-poetry. M. de Banville, the " Franciad" merited to be so highly in previous collections, described, above praised for his poetic ambition, or whether all, statues. M. Gautier preferred paint- the liberties he has taken, missing their ings to statues, and models to paintings. aim, have not rather left French poetry He called this kind of description the poetry more timid, and with a lasting memory of of woman, a favourite theme which he has his mistakes; but the fitting and only skilproduced in prose and verse, in every form. ful apologist for Ronsard, M. Sainte-Beuve, His poems always resemble those beauties has established beyond doubt the true title whose portraits may be seen at the next Sa- of the old poet, and of his excellent poems lon. M. de Banville, less realistic, liking well of the second class, his love sonnets, his enongh to speak of the ideal, is more at ease anacreontic songs, his orations in verse. with sculpture. When we read one of his M. de Banville has also his realm, where he plastic poems, we can easily imagine him as is at home, and whose productions want Pygmalion before his Galatea, with this dif- neither grace nor zest. His collection of ference, I fear, that the marble will not “Stalactites" gives the most just idea of come to life, but the artist, in his ecstacy, him. He excels in finely chiseled poems, take root; it is not Galatea becoming a wo-whose stanzas cut into facets seem like diaman, it is rather Pygmalion becoming a statue. monds just come from the hand of an artist. A vein of airy tenderness sometimes gushes M. de Banville is not averse to an incur- forth; he forgets mythology, art and artistic sion upon the domain of learned mythology. description; he is a poet. Such was his In the poem of "Hesiod," there is more than first poem to Font-George, to which he science, there is the sacred terror and per-wrote a companion piece, but not so good. fect contrition of a true believer. In the The Exiles" are too much in the heroic "Exile of the Gods," he ranges himself vis-style to come up to the "Célio's Soul,” exibly among the followers of M. Leconte de Lisle. cept in a few confused passages. Without hesitation we give the preference to "Little Jane's Jumping Jack," in spite of the puerility and contortions of the first verses, which twisting in every direction, right, left, forwards, backwards, seem on wires like the puppet they describe. If a lofty style is opposed to his peculiar talent, that is no reason for lowering the tone of his poetry. His first "Funambulistic Odes" caused laughter, being new like himself. Unfortunately the praises of the author in the too laudatory essay on the progress of poetry, ill advised M. de Banville, and he gave us the "New Funambulistic Odes." A frolic cannot be renewed after the lapse of twenty years. In closing I would say to M. de Banville, with the poet, 'Not so high and not so low." His two ballads in the comedy of "Gringoire" are worth more than his book of "Exiles" and his funambulistic odes put together. I find in these two volumes none of those ingenious historic poems which make him the Voiture and often the Scarron of romance. This is where he is truly original. These charming 66 |