I believe a few tried “Briggsy,” but the attempt sounded forced and somehow heretical from the start. Nor did any nickname ever find acceptance. The Dean signed his letters L.B.R.B., but one did not think of him as Le Baron Russell Briggs. There is no moral for modern painters in all this, but merely a random thought on a summer afternoon when looking through an album of contemporary art.ĭean Briggs should be written as a single name. This must be folklore, however, for we do know that Protogenes was annoyed when the mob, entranced by the realism of a detail in one of his pictures, neglected to view the picture as a whole. So the judges changed their mind and gave the prize to Protogenes, for whereas Apelles had deceived only the birds, Protogenes had deceived the wisest (in the judges’ opinion) of mankind. The judges started to award the prize to Apelles on the spot, but when they reached the doorway, they bumped against a wall. Apelles painted grapes so true to life that the birds flew down to peck at them. The two Greek painters - let us call them Apelles and Protogenes, then they may have been, they ought to have been - had a contest. Why should I climb to verify names that any child can find in the encyclopedia? My house is up t he hill some three hundred yards away. Such ease may account for a certain freedom of historical reference. I am scrawling this page in pencil and remain reasonably cool as long as I do not walk about. Just at this moment, the wind that is blowing through my hair comes flapping from the equator. The Scotch winter of five hundred years ago closes around us as we read how the Arctic wind came whistling and the poet built up his fire, bustled about, took a drink to comfort his soul, and took down Chaucer’s glorious tale of fair Cresseid and lusty Troilus. I have always liked the opening of Henryson’s Testament of Cresseid. The remote past becomes the immediate present. It is always pleasant when an old writer tells us just where and what he was when he embarked on a literary work. To make verses, to sail a boat, to be immortal - not a bad prospect, on the whole. The first appeared in the September, 1943, issue of the Atlantic. This is the second installment of memorabilia from his notebook. Pulitzer Prize poet and Boylston Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory at Harvard, ROBERT HILLYER is the author of two novels, Riverhead and, more recently, My Heart for Hostage. That is one reason why I distrust spiritism. One cannot prove spiritual truths by physical results. But Renan’s stand is merely pragmatic and therefore not relevant. We are witnessing a partial demonstration of this truth at the present moment. Renan, the French skeptic, who could not have entertained much faith in immortality, nevertheless remarked that when people in general ceased to believe in it, then civilization would come to an end. By her very nature, she could not have imagined a life with no work at all. “I must suppose,” said Queen Elizabeth, “that God intended us for a better life than this one.” She meant, doubtless, a life when there would be fewer unnecessary impediments to one’s proper work. In the same way, there are seasons when the immortality of the soul seems scarcely desirable, although never a time when there is a possibility of doubt. I like to feel everything working together, the adjustment of contrary forces which balance the forward rush. Harmony - is that the right word? - or harmoniousness. Then, with the rhythmic pull of the halliards, the restiveness of the rising sail, and the urgency of the boat as we cast off, the old harmony re-established itself. Then the other day a friend, not suspecting that I had been so long land-bound, handed his boat over to me. In the same way, years passed during which I hoisted no sail. The skill had not rusted with disuse it was clearer than ever and perhaps richer with some practice that I knew not of. But I discovered after a while that such periods merely preceded a new energy. Once I worried when weeks and even months went by and I wrote no verses. THERE are only three things I am specifically positive about: versification, sailing a small boat, and the immortality of the soul.
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