Here writ was the World's History by his hand Itself a zone celestial, round whose birth The planet played within the zodiac's girth; Till hence, through unjust death unfeared, did pass How superb the lines "Till hence, through unjust death unfeared, did pass his spirit to the only land unknown." Rossetti was one of the leaders of men-a poet-painter, a painter-poet. His poems will long preserve his memory in English literature. WILLIAM MORRIS. (1834-1896.) THE biography of William Morris, by J. W. Mackall, is an intensely interesting story of a very remarkable man, poet, artist, architect and master workman, a man whose sense of beauty in things around him was the greatest characteristic of his nature. As the biographer says: Morris did not graduate as a professional architect, nor in all his life did he ever build a house. But for him then and always the word architecture bore an immense, and one might also say a transcendental, meaning. Connected at a thousand points with all the other specific arts which ministered to it out of a thousand sources, it was in itself the tangible expression of all the order, the comeliness, the sweetness, nay, even the mystery and the law, which sustain man's world and make human life what it is. To him the House Beautiful represented the visible form of life itself. Not only as a craftsman and manufacturer, a worker in dyed stuffs and textiles and glass, a pattern designer and decorator, but throughout the whole range of life, he was from first to last the architect, the master craftsman, whose range of work was so phenomenal and his sudden transitions from one to another form of productive energy so swift and perplexing, because, himself secure in the center, he struck outward to any point of the circumference with equal directness, with equal precision, unperplexed by artificial subdivisons of art and untrammeled by any limiting rules of professional custom. In other words, Morris felt and illustrated in his life that all the arts are united and are so many means of expressing the sense of beauty. “If a chap cannot write an epic poem while he is weaving tapestry," Morris would say, "he had better shut up; he'll never do any good at all." William Morris was born March 24, 1834, his father being a prosperous banker in London of Welsh descent. He was educated at a private school and at Exeter College, Oxford, though he did not take a degree. His most intimate associate at college was Edward Burne-Jones, and they continued to be lifelong friends. "From the first," Burne-Jones has written, "I knew how different he was from all the men I had ever met. He talked with vehemence, and sometimes with violence. I never knew him languid or tired. He was slight of figure in those days; his hair was dark brown and very thick; his nose was straight; his eyes hazel colored; his mouth exceedingly delicate and beautiful." Another college friend thus describes him : At first Morris was regarded by the Pembroke men simply as a very pleasant boy (the least of us was senior by a term to him) who was fond of talking, which he did in a husky shout, and fond of going down the river with Faulkner, who was a good boating man. He was very fond of sailing a boat. He was also extremely fond of singlestick and a good fencer. In no long time, however, the great characters of his nature began to impress us. His fire and impetuosity, great bodily strength and high temper were soon manifested, and were something astonishing. As e. g. his habit of beating his own head, dealing himself vigorous blows, to take it out of himself. I think it was he who brought in singlestick. But his mental qualities, his intellect, also began to be perceived and acknowledged. . . . One night Crom Price and I went to Exeter and found him with Burne-Jones. As soon as we entered the room Burne-Jones exclaimed wildly : "He's a big poet." "Who is?" asked we, "Why, Topsy," the name which he had given him. This name, given from his mass of dark curly hair and generally unkempt appearance,stuck to Morris among the circle of his intimate friends all his life. It was frequently shortened into Top." We sat down and heard Morris read his first poem, the first that he had ever written in his life. This poem was at once acknowledged by Morris' friends to be remarkable for its originality, and they all expressed the greatest admiration, upon which Morris remarked: " Well, if this is poetry, it is very easy to write." When Morris first went to the university it was his expectation and that of his family that he was to be educated for the Church, but as time passed he found that vocation alien to his inclination, and he determined to be an architect. His father dying, he was left a fortune of nine hundred pounds a year, so that he was independent to choose as he pleased. In telling of his change of plans he wrote a long and affectionate letter to his mother, in which he says: I suppose you think that you have, as it were, thrown away money on my kind of apprenticeship for the ministry; let your mind be easy on this score; for, in the first place, an university education fits a man about as much for being a ship captain as a pastor of souls; besides, your money has by no means been thrown away, if the love of friends faithful and true, friends first seen and loved here; if this love is something priceless and not to be bought again anywhere and by any means; if, moreover, by living here and seeing evil and sin in its foulest and coarsest forms, as one does day by day, I have learned to hate any form of sin, and to wish to fight against it, is this not well, too? Morris entered an architect's office in Oxford and pursued his studies for several years, meantime removing to London, where he and BurneJones came under the influence of Rossetti for a time. Morris also commenced to paint and to design, and in 1859 married Miss Jane Burden, |