values most those precise qualities which outrage the sensibilities of the Saxon. He respects the spirit which meets him on equal ground, and he prizes the temperate and mutable affection which he must constantly labour to retain. When an Englishman fully recognizes the cattish nature, he is apt, unless he be as tolerant and as little of a despot as Mr. Arnold, to resent its cold serenity, its mortifying indifference,—to resent it with the frankness of Mr. Arthur Benson in his admirable verses upon
THE CAT.
"On some grave business, soft and slow,
Along the garden-paths you go,
With bold and burning eyes:
Or stand, with twitching tail, to mark
What starts and rustles in the dark,
Among the peonies.
"The dusty cockchafer that springs
Upon the dusk with whirring wings,
The beetle, glossy-horned,
The rabbit pattering through the fern,
May frisk unheeded, by your stern
Preoccupation scorned.
.......
"You all day long, beside the fire.
Retrace in dreams your dark desire,
And mournfully complain
In grave displeasure, if I raise
Your languid form to pet or praise;
And so to sleep again.
