Business In Your Life

I had a long session with two tired old men, but I was so full of ideas and energy that they just had to come along. I had a wonderful idea for the first entrance of the Duchess, carried through the street in a sedanchair fig.  “Sanfte”y preceded by a little band of negro boys; thats how she plays the first scene with Cellini. G    ood? By the way, I am using a new trick to make sure that you get the part. I am trying to get Walter Slezak to play the Dukewhich means that they would need a European actress for the Duchess. I also had a brilliant idea for Cellini: Don Ameche. He looks just right, sings well and is not a bad actor. As far as my social life is concerned, it is shrinking considerably since I started working. I was at a little party at the Revys, but I didnt get there until  and it was nice and harmless. Friday I am supposed to be at the Kobers, Saturday at the Elmer Rices, but Ill probably cancel both. Just got your letter from Tuesday. So you know now that there is nothing to worry about me. The butler takes care of the laundry, suit pressing, breakfast and everything all this included in the . per month which is much less than I have to pay for a hotel room. I am eating very well, sleeping primi, swimming almost daily in the Gershwin pool and resting afterwards, and I think my blood pleasure is down to normalat least thats how I feel. And you better watch out a little with what youre eating so taht you dont get any cramps, you Schweeeeinchen little piiiiig. Dicks telephone call is very interesting indeed. I suppose they are getting frantic for a new show. And thats good.I am glad you are going away for the weekend, it will do you good and I am sure youll have a nice time in Mount Kisko.I sent Tonios money yesterday for two months. But I do think we should get rid of it because we need a nicer place for me to work in when the show is in rehearsals. The contracts are being drawn for a Christmas opening, so you can imagine how Ill have to work. I would tell Tonio that he is free to rent to somebody else and we would pay him until he has rented it. That is fair. I am so happy that you are having a good time.

Where they lie interred ; and the romantic ideas attached to their ancient traditions, and the peculiarities of Iheir present life,their wild and enthusiastic poetry,iheir gloomy superstitions,Iheir atlachment lo their chiefs,the dangers, and llie hardships, and enjoyments of their lonely buntings and fishings,their pasloral shielings on the mountains in summer,and the tales and the sports that amuse the little groups lhat are frozen into their vasl and trackless valleys in the winter. Add to all this the traces of vast and obscure antiquity that are impressed on the language and the habits of the people, and on Ihe cliffs and caves and gulfy torrents of the land; and llie solemn and touching reflection, perpetually recurring, of the weakness and insignificance of perishable man, whose generations thus pass away into oblivion, wilh all their toils and ambition, while Nature holds on her unvarying course, and pours out her streams, and renews her forests, wilh undecaying activity, regardless of the fate of her proud and perishable sovereign.We set all this down at random, from the vague and casual recollection of Ihe impressions we have ourselves received from this sort of scenery, by no means as an exact transcript of the images and feelings which it must excite in all beholders, but merely as a specimen of the manner in w hich il operates on the heart and imagination, and of the nature of lhat connection which is established between our natural sympathies and Ihe visible peculiarities of our mountain landscape. The truth is, thai there is an endless variety in the trains of thought to which this kind of scenery is calculated to give rise; and lhat il differs essentially, in ibis respect, from the scenery of a more cultivated region, where there is scarcely any very decided expression but that of comfort and tranquillity.

Dr. Cheyne has taught me to take notice ofone thing more. If our earth had any more than one moon attending it, we should receive probably a detriment from it, rather than an advantage. For at the conjunction and opposition with oneanoth brew. His version being made the standard text of the church of Rome, is generally called the Vulgate; and that which preceded it, the Old Italic. Both are of importance in ascertaining the truth of the Greek text, to the manuscripts of which you must now turn your attention, as the last great means of assuring us of the integrity of the New Testament.Maria. Are these manuscripts numerous?Mr. B. So numerous that it is necessary tAcfWs them in various ways, the better to ascertain the real text of these books. For this purpose a great number have been carefully examined, and as it was found that some agreed very closely with each other, they have been arranged accordingly. There are also, in all probability, many with which we are not at present acquainted; and, doubtless, many have been lost or destroyed.Edward. Do all contain the whole of the New Testament ?Mr. B. No, very few; some only the Gospels, others only the Epistles, and others, called Lectionaria, being merely selections of particular parts for the public service of the church.Maria. I suppose there must be a great difference between the values placed upon some and others?Mr. B. There is; the more ancient having much greater authority.Maria. Which are reckoned the most valuable, and what is their age?Mr. B. There are three which are decidedly the most valuable; two of which are in England, and the third is at Rome.The Alexandrine manuscript, as it is called, is preserved in the British Museum, and was sent from the East by Cyrillus Lucaris, Patriarch of Constantinople, as a present to Charles I. in.the year . It is supposed to have been written in Egypt, about the sixth century; according to some, as early as the fourth.The second of these manuscripts is preserved at Cambridge; Are the manuscripts numerous? Do they all contain the whole of the New Testament? Which of them has the greater authority?  What is said of the first of these manuscripts’! Of the fcccond of them?

Our darling Becky’s first flight was not very far. She perched upon the French coast at Boulogne, that refuge of so much exiled English innocence, and there lived in rather a genteel, widowed manner, with a femme de chambre and a couple of rooms, at an hotel. She dined at the table d’hote, where people thought her very pleasant, and where she entertained her neighbours by stories of her brother, Sir Pitt, and her great London acquaintance, talking that easy, fashionable slipslop which has so much effect upon certain folks of small breeding. She passed with many of them for a person of importance; she gave little teaparties in her private room and shared in the innocent amusements of the place in seabathing, and in jaunts in open carriages, in strolls on the sands, and in visits to the play. Mrs. Burjoice, the printer’s lady, who was boarding with her family at the hotel for the summer, and to whom her Burjoice came of a Saturday and Sunday, voted her charming, until that little rogue of a Burjoice began to pay her too much attention. But there was nothing in the story, only that Becky was always affable, easy, and goodnaturedand with men especially.Numbers of people were going abroad as usual at the end of the season, and Becky had plenty of opportunities of finding out by the behaviour of her acquaintances of the great London world the opinion of “society” as regarded her conduct. One day it was Lady Partlet and her daughters whom Becky confronted as she was walking modestly on Boulogne pier, the cliffs of Albion shining in the distance across the deep blue sea. Lady Partlet marshalled all her daughters round her with a sweep of her parasol and retreated from the pier, darting savage glances at poor little Becky who stood alone there.On another day the packet came in. It had been blowing fresh, and it always suited Becky’s humour to see the droll woebegone faces of the people as they emerged from the boat. Lady Slingstone happened to be on board this day. Her ladyship had been exceedingly ill in her carriage, and was greatly exhausted and scarcely fit to walk up the plank from the ship to the pier. But all her energies rallied the instant she saw Becky smiling roguishly under a pink bonnet, and giving her a glance of scorn such as would have shrivelled up most women, she walked into the Custom House quite unsupported. Becky only laughed: but I don’t think she liked it. She felt she was alone, quite alone, and the faroff shining cliffs of England were impassable to her.

If there was a sincere liking between George and the Major, it must be confessed that between the boy and his uncle no great love existed. George had got a way of blowing out his cheeks, and putting his hands in his waistcoat pockets, and saying, “God bless my soul, you don’t say so,” so exactly after the fashion of old Jos that it was impossible to refrain from laughter. The servants would explode at dinner if the lad, asking for something which wasn’t at table, put on that countenance and used that favourite phrase. Even Dobbin would shoot out a sudden peal at the boy’s mimicry. If George did not mimic his uncle to his face, it was only by Dobbin’s rebukes and Amelia’s terrified entreaties that the little scapegrace was induced to desist. And the worthy civilian being haunted by a dim consciousness that the lad thought him an ass, and was inclined to turn him into ridicule, used to be extremely timorous and, of course, doubly pompous and dignified in the presence of Master Georgy. When it was announced that the young gentleman was expected in Gillespie Street to dine with his mother, Mr. Jos commonly found that he had an engagement at the Club. Perhaps nobody was much grieved at his absence. On those days Mr. Sedley would commonly be induced to come out from his place of refuge in the upper stories, and there would be a small family party, whereof Major Dobbin pretty generally formed one. He was the ami de la maisonold Sedley’s friend, Emmy’s friend, Georgy s friend, Jos’s counsel and adviser. “He might almost as well be at Madras for anything we see of him,” Miss Ann Dobbin remarked at Camberwell. Ah! Miss Ann, did it not strike you that it was not you whom the Major wanted to marry?Joseph Sedley then led a life of dignified otiosity such as became a person of his eminence. His very first point, of course, was to become a member of the Oriental Club, where he spent his mornings in the company of his brother Indians, where he dined, or whence he brought home men to dine.Amelia had to receive and entertain these gentlemen and their ladies. From these she heard how soon Smith would be in Council; how many lacs Jones had brought home with him, how Thomson’s House in London had refused the bills drawn by Thomson, Kibobjee, and Co., the Bombay House, and how it was thought the Calcutta House must go too; how very imprudent, to say the least of it, Mrs. Brown’s conduct wife of Brown of the Ahmednuggur Irregulars had been with young Swankey of the Body Guard, sitting up with him on deck until all hours, and losing themselves as they were riding out at the Cape; how Mrs. Hardyman had had out her thirteen sisters, daughters of a country curate, the Rev: Felix Rabbits, and married eleven of them, seven high up in the service; how Hornby was wild because his wife would stay in Europe, and Trotter was appointed Collector at Ummerapoora. This and similar talk took place at the grand dinners all round.

I could never bear that foolish trivial mode of conversation which is so generally adopted; but useful instructive discourse has always given me great pleasure, nor was I ever backward to join in it. I was much pleased with that of M. Salomon; it appeared to me, that when in his company, I anticipated the acquisition of that sublime knowledge which my soul would enjoy when freed from its mortal fetters. The inclination I had for him extended to the subjects which he treated on, and I began to look after books which might better enable me to understand his discourse. Those which mingled devotion with science were most agreeable to me, particularly Port Royal’s Oratory, and I began to read or rather to devour them. One fell into my hands written by Father Lami, called ‘Entreticns sur les Sciences’, which was a kind of introduction to the knowledge of those books it treated of. I read it over a hundred times, and resolved to make this my guide; in short, I found notwithstanding my ill state of health that I was irresistibly drawn towards study, and though looking on each day as the last of my life, read with as much avidity as if certain I was to live forever. I was assured that reading would injure me; hut on the contrary, I am rather inclined to think it was serviceable, not only to my soul, but also to my body; for this application, which soon became delightful, diverted my thoughts from my disorders, and I soon found myself much less affected by them. It is certain, however, that nothing gave me absolute ease, but having no longer any acute pain, I became accustomed to languishment and wakefulness; to thinking instead of acting; in short, I looked on the gradual and slow decay of my body as inevitably progressive and only to be terminated by death. This opinion not only detached me from all the vain cares of life, but delivered me from the importunity of medicine, to which hitherto, I had been forced to submit, though contrary to my inclination. Salomon, convinced that his drugs were unavailing, spared me the disagreeable task of taking them, and contented himself with amusing the grief of my poor Madam de Warrens by some of those harmless preparations, which serve to flatter the hopes of the patient and keep up the credit of the doctor.

I deserved cultivation for the polite world, and that if I could one day show myself there in an eligible situation, I should soon be able to make my way. In consequence of this idea, she set about forming not only my judgment, but my address, endeavoring to render me amiable, as well as estimable; and if it is true that success in this world is consistent with strict virtue which, for my part, I do not believe, I am certain there is no other road than that she had taken, and wished to point out to me. For Madam de Warrens knew mankind, and understood exquisitely well the art of treating all ranks, without falsehood, and without imprudence, neither deceiving nor provoking them; but this art was rather in her disposition than her precepts, she knew better how to practise than explain it, and I was of all the world the least calculated to become master of such an attainment; accordingly, the means employed for this purpose were nearly lost labor, as well as the pains she took to procure me a fencing and a dancing master. Though very well made, I could never learn to dance a minuet; for being plagued with corns, I had acquired a habit of walking on my heels, which Roche, the dancing master, could never break me of. It was still worse at the fencingschool, where, after three months’ practice, I made but very little progress, and could never attempt fencing with any but my master. My wrist was not supple enough, nor my arm sufficiently firm to retain the foil, whenever he chose to make it fly out of my hand. Add to this, I had a mortal aversion both to the art itself and to the person who undertook to teach it to me, nor should I ever have imagined, that anyone could have been so proud of the science of sending men out of the world. To bring this vast genius within the compass of my comprehension, he explained himself by comparisons drawn from music, which he understood nothing of. He found striking analogies between a hit in ‘quarte’ or ‘tierce’ with the intervals of music which bears those names: when he made a feint he cried out, “take care of this ‘diesis’,” because anciently they called the ‘diesis’ a feint: and when he had made the foil fly from my hand.

The tragic stage is become a masquerade, so that there is more need of the exertions of a stagemanager, who will, for the sake of the wardrobe, travel like an enthusiast through the world for the purpose of everywhere taking costumes, and views from nature, in order to picture them as truly as possible upon the stage; of an antiquary, who can, from engravings and sketches, prove the correctness of a costume of the middle ages; or, of the exertions of a tailor, than of those of the poet. Since Schiller, no tragic poet has been so successful on the stage as Raupach; and, since Kot  Ernst Benjamin Salomon Raupach, born at Straupitz, in Digitized by THE MIXTURE OF ALL TASTES.  zebue, none has written so many plays. At present he produces about a dozen every year. He, doubtless, possesses a great acquaintance with the stage, a graceful manner of treating his subject, and an acute perception of what will be effective ; to attain this last, however, he is always ready to sacrifice poetical truth and dignity. His failing is, that he writes only pieces for effect; yet is always attempting to write plays of character. His comedies are better than his tragedies, because the comic is better suited for this hunting after effect. Yet even here he uses too many means to produce a less effect than he might with more economy produce. His struggle to be effective is everywhere visible. There is a designedness, which is almost offensive, in all his works. Nowhere do we see any naivete of genius, any traces of that divine negligence, without which no poem can please us; because a work of art must be exactly like a work of nature, if it be intended to have a proper effect upon us. In addition to all this he borrows his effects, so that it is impossible to find in him, as in other great tragic poets, a spark of originality. In tragedy, he employs sometimes the solemn declamatory style of Schiller, sometimes the humorous luxuriance of similes which characterizes Sliakspere; at one time the stiff and cold formality of Silesia, May st, : dramas,Raffaelle; Robert the Devil; Genoveva; The Hohenstauffen,  vols., dramatized lives of all the members of the House; c. Comedies, The Hostile Brothers, c.; School of Life. Digitized by Google POETRY.SENTIMENTALITY.  to defend modern customs, to become enthusiastic for them, and to nourish effeminacy in the most comfortable way, both in life and poetry.

From its softest charmfrom the first mutual glancefrom the first gentle beating of the heart, to the tempest of feeling, which shakes the whole heart,to the awestriking heroic deed of virgin valourto the sublime sacrifice of two loving souls, love here unfolds before us the boundless richness of its beauty, like a holy music, which rises gradually from the softest tones to the full tempest of pealing chords. The glow of an enthusiastic heart in Schiller communicates its influence to everything that can benefit humanity; and here his genius is armed with the flaming sword of heaven: here is began the strife between that warlike angel and the spirits of the deep. Schiller’s pure soul could suffer no unrighteousness ; he therefore stept forth panoplied into the lists to fight for eternal right. Like an inspired prophet he announces the holy doctrine of that blessing which dwells in right, and of that curse which inevitably follows wrong. The truth of his piercing judgment is never clouded by the glow of sensibility, or by the blinding garniture of his language; on the contrary, they only give it a more striking and glorious prominence. Freedom, which is inseparable from right, was        GERMAN LITERATURE. the dearest jewel of his heart. But that unbridled freedom which proceeds from and tends to injustice, is one of the demoniac powers against which his genius wages a deadly war. We possess no poet who has represented right and freedom with such a fiery zeal, with such a noble adornment of poetry ; neither have we any who knew so well how to shun both extremes, tempering his enthusiasm with moderation, and marching onward in the triumphal path of truth. His genius belongs to mankind. The rights of man were never advocated on higher and nobler principles than by his Marquis Posa. The Maid of Orleans steps into the lists to protect the rights of the people ; Wilhelm Tell maintains the rights of the individual. And in all his other heroes we see right and freedom waging an interminable war with arbitrary power and violence, so that Schiller is as much the poet of liberty as of love. This may suffice, in so far as a few leading ideas can, to give us some general notion of the spirit of Schiller’s poetry. Every one who knows Schiller is told by his feelings more than can be here told him. And these feelings will never be lost,coming generations and distant lands will participate in them; and to them it will.

But even literature that clearly did concern itself with matters of importance to the national political agenda was liable to being attacked for the mode in which its author chose to treat the subject. Satire in particular was viewed with suspicion. A fullblown debate on satire erupted following the discovery in  that a translation of Zhang Tianyi’s short story “Hua Wei xiansheng”       Mr. Hua Wei, which pointedly satirized the ineffectual wartime bureaucracy, had been used by the Japanese in the course of a propaganda campaign. Lin Lin tttt, for example, argued that such works, however true a picture of social ills they painted, were detrimental to the national morale; at the very least, they should not be disseminated abroad or to Hong Kong, where they might fall into unfriendly hands. The critical, pessimistic nature of satire had in fact been noticed years earlier, during the Revolutionary Literature debate, in connection with Lu Xun’s satirical stories. The essayist Lin Yutang had also broached the subject in the early s, when he declared his preference for a rational, humanistic humor youmo over an embittered, restrictive satire. Lin’s suggestion that authors adopt a tone of amused detachment had infuriated Lu Xun, who in  wrote two short essays in which he defended the satirist as possessed of both the “good intentions” and the “warm feelings” of wanting to change the world. Moreover, he wrote, satire served the purpose of calling attention to “irrational, ridiculous, disgusting, or even detestable” truths that are commonplace but frequently passed over. Typically, however, Lu Xun took a lessthansanguine view of the actual capacity of satirical literature to effect change: “By the time a satirist .    Lan Hai discusses the satire debate in Zhongguo kangzhan wenyi shiy pp. . .  In this connection see, for example, the defense of Lu Xun’s satire written by Cheng Wenying   “Fengci wenxue yu shehui gaige”  «J £  f jft   Satirical literature and social reform, Mengya yuekan , no.  May : . .  See Lin Yutang       “Lun youmo”  On humor, Parts , Lunyu, gwfg The analects, no.  : ;  i Copyrighted material   May Fourth Theories of Realism appears in a group, that group is already doomed; certainly writing cannot save it.” Many of Lu Xun’s arguments though not his cynical afterthought were repeated by critics and authors who spoke in defense of “Mr. Hua Wei.”