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ity there are few incentives to early rising。 What charm is there in roof…tops and chimney…stacks to induce one to escape even from a nightmare？ What is more depressing than a city street before the shop…windows have lifted an eyelid； when 〃the very houses seem asleep；〃 as Wordsworth says； and nobody is astir but the belated burglar or the milk…and… water man or Mary washing off the front steps？ Daybreak at the seaside or up among the moun… tains is sometimes worth while； though famil… iarity with it breeds indifference。 The man forced by restlessness or occupation to drink the first vintage of the morning every day of his life has no right appreciation of the beverage； how… ever much he may profess to relish it。 It is only your habitual late riser who takes in the full flavor of Nature at those rare intervals when he gets up to go a…fishing。 He brings virginal emotions and unsatiated eyes to the sparkling freshness of earth and stream and sky。 For him a momentary Adamthe world is newly created。 It is Eden come again； with Eve in the similitude of a three…pound trout。 In the country； then； it is well enough occa… sionally to dress by candle…light and assist at the ceremony of dawn； it is well if for no other purpose than to disarm the intolerance of the professional early riser who； were he in a state of perfect health； would not be the wandering victim of insomnia； and boast of it。 There are few small things more exasperating than this early bird with the worm of his conceit in his bill。
UN POETE MANQUE
IN the first volume of Miss Dickinson's poet… ical melange is a little poem which needs only a slight revision of the initial stanza to entitle it to rank with some of the swallow… flights in Heine's lyrical intermezzo。 I have ten… tatively tucked a rhyme into that opening stanza：
I taste a liquor never brewed In vats upon the Rhine； No tankard ever held a draught Of alcohol like mine。
Inebriate of air am I； And debauchee of dew； Reeling； through endless summer days； From inns of molten blue。
When landlords turn the drunken bee Out of the Foxglove's door； When butterflies renounce their drams； I shall but drink the more！ Till seraphs swing their snowy caps And saints to windows run； To see the little tippler Leaning against the sun！
Those inns of molten blue； and the disreputable honey…gatherer who gets himself turned out…of… doors at the sign of the Foxglove； are very taking matters。 I know of more important things that interest me vastly less。 This is one of the ten or twelve brief pieces so nearly per… fect in structure as almost to warrant the reader in suspecting that Miss Dickinson's general dis… regard of form was a deliberate affectation。 The artistic finish of the following sunset…piece makes her usual quatrains unforgivable：
This is the land the sunset washes； These are the banks of the Yellow Sea； Where it rose； or whither it rushes； These are the western mystery！
Night after night her purple traffic Strews the landing with opal bales； Merchantmen poise upon horizons； Dip； and vanish with fairy sails。
The little picture has all the opaline atmosphere of a Claude Lorraine。 One instantly frames it in one's memory。 Several such bits of impres… sionist landscape may be found in the portfolio。 It is to be said； in passing； that there are few things in Miss Dickinson's poetry so felicitous as Mr。 Higginson's characterization of it in his preface to the volume： 〃In many cases these verses will seem to the reader like poetry pulled up by the roots； with rain and dew and earth clinging to them。〃 Possibly it might be objected that this is not the best way to gather either flowers or poetry。 Miss Dickinson possessed an extremely un… conventional and bizarre mind。 She was deeply tinged by the mysticism of Blake； and strongly influenced by the mannerism of Emerson。 The very gesture with which she tied her bonnet… strings； preparatory to one of her nun…like walks in her garden at Amherst； must have had something dreamy and Emersonian in it。 She had much fancy of a quaint kind； but only； as it appears to me； intermittent flashes of imagination。 That Miss Dickinson's memoranda have a cer… tain something which； for want of a more pre… cise name； we term quality； is not to be denied。 But the incoherence and shapelessness of the greater part of her verse are fatal。 On nearly every page one lights upon an unsupported exquisite line or a lonely happy epithet； but a single happy epithet or an isolated exquisite line does not constitute a poem。 What Lowell says of Dr。 Donne applies in a manner to Miss Dickinson： 〃Donne is full of salient verses that would take the rudest March winds of criticism with their beauty； of thoughts that first tease us like charades and then delight us with the felicity of their solution； but these have not saved him。 He is exiled to the limbo of the formless and the fragmentary。〃 Touching this question of mere technique Mr。 Ruskin has a word to say （it appears that he said it 〃in his earlier and better days〃）； and Mr。 Higginson quotes it： 〃No weight； nor mass； nor beauty of execution can outweigh one grain or fragment of thought。〃 This is a pro… position to which one would cordially subscribe if it were not so intemperately stated。 A sug… gestive commentary on Mr。 Ruskin's impressive dictum is furnished by his own volume of verse。 The substance of it is weighty enough； but the workmanship lacks just that touch which dis… tinguishes the artist from the bunglerthe touch which Mr。 Ruskin； except when writing prose； appears not much to have regarded either in his later or 〃in his earlier and better days。〃 Miss Dickinson's stanzas； with their impos… sible rhyme； their involved significance； their interrupted flute…note of birds that have no con… tinuous music； seem to have caught the ear of a group of eager listeners。 A shy New England bluebird； shifting its light load of song； has for the moment been mistaken for a stray nightingale。
THE MALE COSTUME OF THE PERIOD
I WENT to see a play the other night； one of those good old…fashioned English comedies that are in five acts and seem to be in fifteen。 The piece with its wrinkled conventionality； its archaic stiffness； and obsolete code of morals； was devoid of interest excepting as a collection of dramatic curios。 Still I managed to sit it through。 The one thing in it that held me a pleased spectator was the graceful costume of a certain player who looked like a fine old por… traitby Vandyke or Velasquez； let us say that had come to life and kicked off its tar… nished frame。 I do not know at what epoch of the world's history the scene of the play was laid； possibly the author originally knew； but it was evident that the actors did not； for their make…ups re… presented quite antagonistic periods。 This cir… cumstance； however； detracted only slightly from the special pleasure I took in the young person called Delorme。 He was not in himself inter… esting； he was like that Major Waters in 〃Pepys's Diary〃〃a most amorous