the mind pursuing it. But, on the other hand, it is to be noted that entire scorn of this purist ideal is the sign of a far greater weakness. Multitudes of petty artists, incapable of any noble sensation whatever, but acquainted, in a dim way, with the technicalities of the schools, mock at the art whose depths they cannot fathom, and whose motives they cannot comprehend, but of which they can easily detect the imperfections, and deride the simplicities. Thus poor fumigatory Fuseli, with an art composed of the tinsel of the stage and the panics of the nursery, speaks contemptuously of the name of Angelico as "dearer to sanctity than to art." And a large portion of the resistance to the noble Pre-Raphaelite movement of our own days has been offered by men who suppose the entire function of the artist in this world to consist in laying on colour with a large brush, and surrounding dashes of flake white with bituminous brown; men whose entire capacities of brain, soul, and sympathy, applied industriously to the end of their lives, would not enable them, at last, to paint so much as one of the leaves of the nettles, at the bottom of Hunt's picture of the Light of the World.8 contrary, less than his fellows, and in always DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI (1828-1882) THE BLESSED DAMOZEL* She had three lilies in her hand, It is finally to be remembered, therefore, that Purism is always noble when it is instinctive. It is not the greatest thing that can be done, but it is probably the greatest thing that the man who does it can do, provided it comes from his heart. True, it is a sign of weakness, but it is not in our choice whether we will be weak. or strong; and there is a certain strength which can only he made perfect in weakness. If he is working in humility, fear of evil, desire of beauty, and sincere purity of purpose and | Her robe, ungirt from clasp to hem, thought, he will produce good and helpful No wrought flowers did adorn, things; but he must be much on his guard against supposing himself to be greater than his fellows, because he has shut himself into this calm and cloistered sphere. His only safety lies in knowing himself to be, on the 6 A Swiss-English painter and art-critic (17411825). He had a powerful but ill-regulated fancy, being both a fantastic designer and a reckless colorist. Perhaps Ruskin means something like this by calling him “fumigatory," but his meaning is not very clear. But a white rose of Mary's gift, For service meetly worn; Herseemed she scarce had been a day 7 The movement led by Rossetti, Millais, and flunt. Albeit, to them she left, her day See Eng. Lit., pp. 369, 370. Holman Hunt's well-known "Light of the World" (now at Keble College, Oxford) is a painting representing Christ, with a lantern in his hand, standing at a door and knocking. 8 "Not that the Pre-Raphaelite is a purist movement, it is stern naturalist; but its unfortunate opposers, who neither know what nature is, nor what purism is, have mistaken the simple nature for morbid purism, and therefore cried out against it."-Ruskin's note. Had counted as ten years. 12 18 * Slight in substance as this poem is, it has two unusual sources of charm-a very definite pictorial character which stamps it as the work of a poet who was also a painter, and a mystical quality springing from an imagination that dared to portray earthly love in heavenly surroundings. Those who are interested in sources may consult Virgil, Eclogue v. 56; and Petrarch, Sonnets In Morte, 74. Time like a pulse shake fierce That once of old. But shall God lift To endless unity Until her bosom must have made Through all the worlds. Her gaze still strove The soul whose likeness with thy soul Within the gulf to pierce Its path; and now she spoke as when The stars sang in their spheres. The sun was gone now; the curled moon (Ah sweet! Even now, in that bird's song, Strove not her accents there, "I wish that he were come to me, For he will come,'' she said. Was but its love for thee?) 54We two, '' she said, "will seek the groves 60 Where the lady Mary is, With her five handmaidens, whose names "Circlewise sit they, with bound locks Into the fine cloth white like flame To fashion the birth-robes for them 66"He shall fear, haply, and be dumb: Then will I lay my cheek 102 108 114 1 The Dove typifies the third member of the Trinity, the Holy Spirit. This ballad is founded on an old superstition. Holinshed, for example, tells a story of an attempt upon the life of King Duffe-how certain soldiers breaking into a house, "found one of the witches roasting upon a wooden broach an image of wax at the fire, resembling in each feature the king's person, In the shaken trees the chill stars shake."' Hush, heard you a horse-tread as you spake, Little brother?'' (0 Mother, Mary Mother, sound to-night, between Hell and Heaven?) What "I hear a horse-tread, and I see, Sister Helen, by the which means it should have come to "The wind is loud, but I hear him cry, Little brother.'' For I know the white plume on the blast."' "The hour, the sweet hour I forecast, 130 Little brother!"' (0 Mother, Mary Mother, Is the hour sweet, between Hell and Heaven?) "He stops to speak, and he stills his horse, Sister Helen; But his words are drowned in the wind's (0 Mother, Mary Mother, 90Nay hear, nay hear, you must hear perforce, And they and we, between Hell and Heaven!) "Three days ago, on his marriage-morn, Sister Helen, What word now Little brother!'' (0 Mother, Mary Mother, heard, between Hell and 140 He sickened, and lies since then forlorn.'' Little brother?'' Sister Helen, (0 Mother, Mary Mother, Is ever to see you ere he die." Cold bridal cheer, between Hell and Heaven!)"In all that his soul sees, there am I, (0 Mother, Mary Mother, "He sends a ring and a broken coin, If he have prayed, between Hell and Heaven!) And bids you mind the banks of Boyne.'' 150 Sister Helen, But oh! his voice is sad and weak!"' Little brother?'' 180 (0 Mother, Mary Mother, Is this the end, between Hell and Heaven?) "Oh his son still cries, if you forgive, Sister Helen, The body dies, but the soul shall live." "Fire shall forgive me as I forgive, 97 220 "Pale, pale her cheeks, that in pride did glow, Three days, three (0 Mother, Mary Mother, nights, between Hell and "Her clasped hands stretch from her bending "She may not speak, she sinks in a swoon, As she forgives, between Hell and Heaven!) "Oh he prays you, as his heart would rive, 190 Her woe's dumb Sister Helen, To save his dear son's soul alive." Little brother!" "He cries to you, kneeling in the road, Sister Helen, Heaven!) Little brother!"' (0 Mother, Mary Mother, cry, between Hell and |