Not mine the march, the counter-march,
The trumpets, the triumphal arch.
For detail, detail, most I care
(Ce superflu, si nécessaire !);
I cultivate a private bent
For episode, for incident;
I take a page of Some One's life,
His quarrel with his friend, his wife,
His good or evil hap at Court,
"His habit as he lived," his sport,
The books he read, the trees he planted,
The dinners that he ate-or wanted:
As much, in short, as one may hope
To cover with a microscope.
I don't taboo a touch of scandal,
If Gray or Walpole hold the candle;
Nor do I use a lofty tone
Where faults are weaknesses alone.
In studies of Life's seamy side
I own I feel no special pride;
The Fleet, the round-house, and the gibbets Are not among my prize exhibits;
Nor could I, if I would, outdo
What Fielding wrote, or Hogarth drew.
Yet much I love to arabesque
What Gautier christened a "Grotesque;"
To take his oddities and "lunes,"
And drape them neatly with festoons,
Until, at length, I chance to get
The thing I designate "Vignette."
To sum the matter then :-My aim
Is modest. This is all I claim :
To paint a part and not the whole,
The trappings rather than the soul.
The Evolution of the Time,
The silent Forces fighting Crime,
The Fetishes that fail, and pass,
The struggle between Class and Class,
The Wealth still adding land to lands,
The Crown that falls, the Faith that stands...
All this I leave to abler hands.
“EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY VIGNETTES
"What is it that attaches
HAT is it then,"- -some Reader asks,——
Your fancy so to fans and masks,-
To periwigs and patches?
“Is Human Life to-day so poor,—
So bloodless,-you disdain it,
To'galvanize' the Past once more?"
-Permit me. I'll explain it.
This Age I grant (and grant with pride),
Is varied, rich, eventful;
But, if you touch its weaker side
Deplorably resentful:
Belaud it, and it takes your praise
With air of calm conviction;
Condemn it, and at once you raise
A storm of contradiction.
Whereas with these old Shades of mine,
Their ways and dress delight me;
And should I trip by word or line,
They cannot well indict me.
Not that I think to err. I seek
To steer 'twixt blame and blindness; I strive (as some one said in Greek) To speak the truth with kindness:
But should I fail to render clear
Their title, rank, or station—
I still may sleep secure, nor fear
A suit for defamation.
ESSAYS IN OLD FRENCH FORMS
"They are a school to win
The fair French daughter to learn English in;
And, graced with her song,
To make the language sweet upon her tongue."
BEN JONSON, Underwoods.
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