and a good deal of genuine and tender feeling. Our leaders have been noted for taste or thought or conviction, often for these traits combined. But we obtain our average impression of a literary era from Cp. "Victorian Poets": p. 477; and "Poets of America": pp. 458-460.the temper of its writers at large. Of late our clever artists in verse—for such they are—seem with a few exceptions indifferent to thought and feeling, and avoid taking their office seriously. A vogue of light and troubadour verse-making has come, and now is going as it came. Every possible mode of artisanship has been tried in turn. The like conditions prevail upon the Continent, at least as far as France is concerned; in fact, the caprices of our minor minstrelsy have been largely the outcome of a new literary Gallomania.
Now, I think you will feel that there is something Something more is needed to confer distinction.unsatisfactory, something much less satisfactory than what we find in the little prose masterpieces of the new American school; that from the mass of all this rhythmical work the higher standard of poetry could scarcely be derived. To be sure, it is the providential wont of youth to be impressed by the latest models, to catch the note of its own morntime. Many know the later favorites by heart, yet perhaps have never read an English classic. We hear them say, "Who reads Milton now, or Byron, or Coleridge?" It is just as well. Otherwise a new voice might not be welcomed,—would have less chance to gain a hear-
