Books and Habits from the Lectures of Lafcadio Hearn

ms about

Table of

many English anthologies,-that is to say, collections of the best typical compositions of a certain epoch in poetry or in prose. But you must have observed that, in Western countries, nearly all such anthologies are compiled chronologically-not according to the subject of the poems. To this general rule there are indeed a few exceptions. There is a collection of love poetry by Watson, which is famous; a collection of child poetry by Patmore; a collection of "society verse" by Locker-Lampson; and several things of that sort. But even here the arrangement is not of a special k

nthologies can show. I am aware that this fact is chiefly owing to the ancient rules about subjects, seasons, contrasts, and harmonies, after which the old poets used to write. But whatever be said about such rules, there can be no doubt at all of the excellence of the arrangements which the rules produced. It is greatly to be regretted that we have not in English a system of arrangement enabling the student to discover quickly all that has been written upon a particular subject-such as roses, for example, or pine trees, or doves, or the beauties of the autumn season. There is nobody to tell you where to find such things; and as the whole range of English poetry is so great that it ta

ly merely to obtain one's materials, and even then the result is not to be thought of as exhaustive. I am going to try to give you a few lectures upon English poetry thus classified, but we must not expect that the lectures wil

s, and especially about singing birds; but very little has been written upon the subject of insects-singing insects. One reason is probably that the number of musical insects in England is very small, perhaps owing to the climate. American poets have written more about insects than English poets have done, though their work is of a much less finished kind. But this is because musical ins

perched upon a skull, thus symbolizing life beyond death. And the metamorphosis of the insect is, you know, very often referred to in Greek philosophy. We might expec

the ancient

r emblem, and

l, escaped the

fe! For in th

ile's lot, much

ions making

d kill the thing

truggling in order to live-in order to obtain food. The butterfly is not much of an eater; some varieties, indeed, do not eat at all. All the necessity for eating ended with the life of the larva. In the same manner religion teaches that the soul represents the changed state of man. In this life a man is only like a caterpillar; death changes him into a chrysalis, and out of the chrysalis issues the winged soul which does not have to trouble itself about such matters as eating and drinking. By the word "reptile" in this verse, you must unde

suggests any deep problem, but because with absolute simplicity it pictures the charming difference of charac

-do not take

onger stay

rse do I f

n of my

me; do not

es reviv

, gay creatur

image to

her's

, pleasant w

en, in our c

r Emmeli

hased the

unter di

y: with leap

on from bra

love her, f

from off

real structure of the insect was not so well known as now to little people. Therefore to the boy the coloured matter brushed from the wings would only have seemed so much dust. Bu

led "Amphibian"-implying that we are about to have a reference to creatures capable of living in two distinctive elements, yet absolutely belonging neither to the one nor to the other. The poet swims out far into the sea on a beautiful day; and, suddenly, looking up, perceives a beautiful butterfly flying over his head, as if watchin

cy I ha

ich turn

ar out i

laughed wa

looked a

-sun loo

us two

ure, that

e came fl

lay floa

trange b

as dear

he membra

erful,

ffused, w

and noug

ion of the butterfly, for if it should only touch the water, it is certain to be drowned. But it does not touch the water; and he begins to think how clumsy is the man who moves in water compared with the insect that moves in air, and how

a cert

y slipped

r its home

, thus lo

one who, in

and likes

s the win

in the worm

mes when t

and warm

oneself

a life

dly noise

here whic

n and thoug

o fly, o

t so much labour even to move through the water, while she can move through whatever she pleases by the simple act of wishing. And this man, strangely enough, does not want to die, and to become a ghost. He likes to live very much; he does not yet desire those soul-wings which are supposed to be growing within the shell of his body, just as the wings of the butterf

st swimmer can not live under the water, neither can he rise into the beautiful blue air. He can only keep his head in the air; his body must remain in the grosser element. Well, a great thinker and poet is ever thus-floating between the universe of spirit and the universe of matter

best we can do is to enjoy in the imagination those t

te throu

t, with se

tute, in

aven-p

a, to al

h such noo

iner e

the spir

est approach that we can make to the heavenly condition, mentally, is in poetry. Poetry, imagination, the pleasure of emotional expression-these represent our nearest approach to paradise. Poetry is th

ime, yond

e horizo

the land

or dread

solid a

e again (

h and dry

and don

look, pit

ho mimic

en above,

ys earth

try-the truth is that we are very fond of this world, we like comfort, we like company, we like human love and human pleasures. There is a good deal of nonsense in pretending that we think heaven is a better place than the world to which we belong. Perhaps it is a better place, but, as a matter of fact, we do not know anything about it; and we should be frightened if we could go beyond a certain distan

mind teach us the truth and seriousness which may attach to very small things-incidents, happenings of daily l

in Oriental literature;-we find it in Sanskrit texts thousands of years ago. But the Western mind has not been accustomed to think of spiritual life as outside of man; and much of natural poetry has consequently remained undeveloped in Western countries. A strange little poem, "The White Moth," is an exception to the general rule that I have indicate

ustled, she

he died,

frail a thi

where she t

turn and tur

feet, in so

above the

the page and

nd thrice t

pane a whit

s soul that

open, ope

t find the

too many

ts, and the

astes wher

omets hissed

ldered and

as easy t

w and no s

take me ba

thrust the

ecause his

g; for he h

polishin

over triv

blundered i

m, on ecst

hand and smo

That I had d

eaven, yet afraid of the journey. Now the subject of the poem which the lover happens to be writing inside the room is a memory of the dead woman-mourning for her, describing her in exquisite ways. He can not hear her at all; he does not hear even the beating of the little wings at the window, but he stands up and opens the window-because he happens to feel hot and tired. The moth thinks that he has heard her, that he knows; and she

ere we must again be very brief. References to dragon-flies are common throughout English poetry, but the references signify little more than a mere colourless mention of the passing of the insect. However, it so happens that the finest modern lines of pure description written abou

saw the d

e wells wher

mpulse ren

husk; from

r plates of s

wings; like g

and pasture

ush of lig

ect, this may appear strange to you. But I think that you can explain the strangeness at a later time. The silence of English poets o

n by the poet Blake about accidentally killing a fly. Blake represents his own thoughts about the brevity of human life which had been aroused by the incident. It is charming little poem; but it does not describe the fly at all. I shall not quote it

ious, thi

h me and

elcome t

ou sip and

ost of lif

hort and

e are min

uick to the

ummer, mine

eated to t

ummers, when

ar as sho

appears to the mind of a man. It has been calculated that a mosquito or a gnat moves its wings between four and five hundred times a second. Now the scientific dissection of such an insect, under the microscope, justifies the opinion that the insect must be conscious of each beat of the wings-just as a man feels that he lifts his arm or bends his head every time that the action is performed. A man can not even imagine the consciousness of so short an interval of time as t

ere agriculture is practised upon such a scale as in England. But such is not really the case.

doves in imm

ng of innum

ith some others which I have cited; but as to thinking, it is very interesting, and you must remember that the philosopher who writes poetry should be judged fo

ozing hu

art is cl

erer, dese

se thy wav

arer, me t

er shrubs

over of

thy d

f the at

ough the wa

of light

ean of

rithee, t

rshot of

out is m

sunny s

the und

silence do

mellow, b

savory o

insect n

r than h

eeched ph

nly what

nly what

mock at fa

aff, and tak

ght and sweet to the taste. Now Emerson tells us that a wise man should act like the bee-never stopping to look at what is bad, or what is morally ugly, but seeking only what is beautiful and nourishing for the mind. It is a very fine thought; and the manner of expressing it is greatly helped by Emerson's use of curious and forcible

prove each shining hour." This is no doubt didactically very good; but I wish to offer you only examples of really fine poetry on the topic. Therefore

ch hides in houses, making itself at home in some chink of the brickwork or stonework about a fireplace, for it loves the warmth. I suppose that the small number of poems in English about crickets can be partly explained by the scarcity of night singers. Only the house cricket seems to be very well known. But on the other hand, we can n

of earth is

s are faint with

line. By the poetry of nature the poet means the voices of nature-the musical sounds made by its idle life in woods and fields. So the word "poetry" here has especially the meaning of song, and corresponds very closely to the Japanese word which signifies either poem or song, but perhaps more especially the latter. The ge

r the edition of 1842. He did not think it good enough to rank with his other work. But a few months ago the poems which Tennyson suppressed in the final edition of his works have been published and carefully edited by an eminent scholar, and among t

the sum

he summe

the summ

arly, bou

thou as

m, they are de

ect lithe

seeded summ

falsehood an

on thine

ielded side

rly, chirr

arrior in youth and

cap-

fair

wing

ading

ant ca

et sans

ght and

rd of th

was said to be without fear and without blame. You may remember that he was killed by a ball from a gun-it was soon after the use of artillery in war had been introduced; and his dying words were to the effect that he feared there was now an end of great deeds, because men had begun to fig

atydid, or Catydid-though the former spelling is preferable. Katy, or Katie, is the abbreviation of the name Catherine; very few girls are called by the full name Catherine, also spelt Katherine; because the name is long and unmusical, their friends address them usually as Katy, and their acquaintances, as Kate. Well, the insect of which I am speaking, a kind of semi, makes a sound resembling the sound of the wor

ear thine e

r thou

y little

retty

st me of g

lefolks

t an undis

a sole

where did

t did K

e very fai

so wic

love a na

ore cheek

t Katy d

y a Kate

living oak

od for a

all rend it

der down

he littl

one word

c story o

e she kno

in the poem of the tendency among old ladies to blame the conduct of young girls even more severely than may be necessary. There is nothing else to recommend the poem except its wit and the curiousness of the subject. There are several other verses about the same creature, by different American poets;

nch of w

e evenin

lofty loc

on a dro

it of gre

inging in

Catydid

n a leaf

e your l

eet of sha

ay you no

ght your ch

ut its lit

else but

what di

ean to tr

Caty n

le littl

eed, at yo

one while

Catydid

u the cry of the little creature seemed rather to be like the cry of a little child complaining-a little girl, perhaps, complaining that somebody had b

fly. This author is rather a person of note, being a prominent figure in educational reforms and the author of a volume of poems of a remarkably strong kind in the didactic sense. In other words, she is especially a moral poet; and unless moral poetry be really

very unhappy, and gifted with power to express the reason of

are thi

ce I had

y fur-a j

pt my b

flapping wing

er and

utrageous

y of mi

scorn all b

and an

nominio

gs are ma

want to fl

want to

ed his wings

his voic

want to

to be a

ay of unk

f unknow

fool in re

I saw w

re madly c

is chr

of life. But there are men who refuse to use their best faculties for this end. Such men are like butterflies who do not want to take the trouble to fly,

rding to the Greek story, who was very skilful at weaving. She wove cloths of many different colours and beautiful patterns, and everybody admired her work. This made her vain-so vain that at last she said that even the goddess of weaving could not weave better than she. Immediately after she had said that, the terrible goddess herself-Pallas Athena-entered the room. Pallas Athena was not only the goddess of wisdom, you know, but especially the goddess of young girls, presiding over the chastity, the filial piety, and the domestic occupations of virgins; and she was very angry at the conceit of this girl. So she said to her, "You have boasted that you can weave as well

he symbolic poems which are becoming so numerous in these days of newer and deeper philosophy. I th

r in the c

s, bold, an

nd floats a

r subtile h

er bed, her

t hidden sto

s it and kn

s strong and

hreads to we

d gathers th

from her fa

ll, till lea

th toil, and

shining tr

h hushed the

flies her c

in the snar

to every w

r toil, her

e sport of s

never to come back again, and leaving the women behind them. Gradually the place of these men was taken by immigrants of inferior development-but the New England women had nothing to hope for from these strangers. The bravest of them also went away to other states; but myriads who could not go were condemned by circumstances to stay and earn their living by hard work without any prospect of happy marriage. The difficulty which a girl of culture may experience in trying to live by the work of her hands in New England is something not

of the spi

out my st

ife and li

rest, my p

eart when he

at hard-earn

earled and gl

hee homeles

peace when

d thread, ea

ng in the

, silent, t

thou hast

e to a sou

or life I

day I spi

shopkeepers or manufacturers who take their work without justly paying for it, and who criticize it as bad in order to force the owner to accept less money than it is worth. Again a

retty in its use here as an adjective, because this word is now especially used for rope-fastening, whether the rope be steel or hemp; and particularly for the fastening of the cables of a bridge. The last stanza might be paraphrased thus: "Sister Spider, I know more than yo

I believe that Christianity, as dogma, accounts for the long silence. The opinions of the early Church refused soul, ghost, intelligence of any sort to other creatures than man. All animals were considered as automata-that is, as self-acting machines, moved by a something called instinct, for want of a better name. To talk about the souls of animals or the spirits of animals would have been very dangerous in the Middle Ages, when the Church had supreme power; it would indeed have been to risk or to invite an accusation of witchcraft, for demons were then thought to

ner that, at first sight, strangely resembles Buddhism. This saint was Francis of Assisi, born in the latter part of the twelfth century, so that he may be said to belong to the very heart of the Middle Ages,-the most superstitious epoch of Christianity. Now this saint used to talk to trees and stones as if they were animated beings. He addressed the sun as "my brother sun"; and he spoke of the moon as his sister. He preached not only to human beings, but also to the bi

lose relation to the world of demons and evil spirits. I suppose you know that the name of one of their gods, Beelzebub, signifies the Lord of Flies. The Jews, as is shown by their Talmudic literature, inherited some of these ideas; and it is quite probable that they were passed on to the days of Christianity. Again, in the early times of Christianity in Northern Africa the Church had to fight against

enses are incomparably superior to our own; and that in natural history, from the evolutional standpoint, they have to be given first place. This of course renders it impossible any longer to consider the insect as a trifling subject. Moreover, the new phil

loping of late years only. In this connection it is interesting to note that a very religious poet, Whittier, gave us in the last days of his life a poem upon an

OMON AND

om Jer

rode with

and lords

's queen

but blac

perchance

rous Song

s and m

devout s

ecstati

h its eart

of Love

the Syr

and purp

ky Ethi

on King

of men,

nguage

ures grea

the eart

an ant-

s path, a

folk, and

s inte

s the king

and good

h us in

s heedle

what the ants have just said. She advises him to pay no attention to the sarcasm of the

Solomon

and strong

are of t

d his hor

, with qu

h their le

ill's peo

it free f

led head

she said,

ret of

dom wel

ust be t

ler heed

murs of

eries of t

custom which Charles Lamb had reason to complain of even at a later day. The tents referred to in the text were probably tents made of camel-skin, such as the Arabs still make, and the colour of these is not black but brown. Whether Solomon wrote the so-called song or not we do not know; but the poet refers to a legend that it was written in praise of the beauty of the dark queen who came from Sheba to visit the wisest man of the world. Such is not, however, the opinion of modern scholars. The composition is really dramatic, although thrown into lyrical form, and as arranged by Renan and others it becomes a beautiful little play, of which each act is a monologue. "Sensuous" t

that it is only, at the most, one hundred and fifty years old. But the first really fine poem of the eighteenth century relating to the subject is quite as good as anything since composed by Englishmen upon insect life in general. Perhaps Gray referred especially to what we call May-flies-those delicate ghostly insects which hove

e toiling h

ing herd

w through th

y murmu

youth are o

ste the hon

amid the l

y o'er the

heir gaily-

ancing t

plation's

the race

creep, and t

where th

e Busy a

through life

varying col

e hand of rou

by Age, the

e, in dus

hear in a

tive kin

st! and wha

itary

glittering f

thou of hoa

plumage t

ngs thy you

set; thy sp

c, while

ted refers jocosely to himself. It is an artistic device to set off t