Tennyson's Maud as a Work of Art. No WORK, published within the last twenty years, has been the subject of more contradictory opinions than the Maud of Tennyson. Some condemn it altogether; but the large majority admit the beauty of particular passages, while they profess to be unable to perceive the scope and design of the whole, and in fact deny the There are a few who poem any meaning whatsoever as a poem. recognize it as a grand work of art, the crowning effort of the greatest of the living masters of English poetry,-a poem of the times and for the times, which, far before any other production of our day, delineates the peculiarities of sentiment and action in modern society. There are a few who see in it something more than the narrative of a love-story, however beautiful, something more than invective against the evils of social life, however bitter; something rather of the passion, the restless longing and the morbid excitement peculiar to so many dispositions in an age like ours, some expression of those feelings, which oftentimes sadden the lives of one-sided men, glowing with ideal conceptions of what the condition of mankind should be, but sick at heart and despairing of the VOL. XXIV. 12 holds, around the hearth of the old homestead-the joyous scenes of happy childhood which then well up spontaneously to memory-the gentle, soothing, unselfish influence of mothers and sisters, after rude buffetings with a selfish world-do more to rectify the heart, to purify and ennoble it, than all the didactic theology and hortatory sermonizing that one can gather from a year's attendance upon all the pulpits between Maine and Florida. There is something so lofty in the conception of a yearly Thanksgiving from united families around the family altar-that upon each recurrence of the day, our "hearts must rise to a higher level,"-and the thoughts and impressions which then possess us, go with us again into busy life. Wise, then, were the old Puritans who instituted the custom, and deserving of all honor. We, too, look forward to the presiding seat of patriarch amid a surrounding group, at some point in the dim future, away over and beyond that jolly time when "With an infant on our larboard knee, And at our starboard side a wife," we shall esteem ourselves the happiest man in Christendom. And we hail with joy the pleasing prospect of royal Thanksgiving festivities around the hearth of our own homestead. But a knock at our sanctum door, by that voracious individual who goes roaming around at all hours of the day and night, seeking for "more copy," reminds us that for the present, we must rest content with a bachelor's estate, and cease our rambling talk. NOTICE TO CONTRIBUTORS.-"Where shall my Grave be?" will appear in our next. THE AWARD. "To the Editors of the Yale Literary Magazine: THE undersigned, having been chosen to adjudge the YALE LITERARY PRIZE, would report that they have decided the essay on "The Spirit of Sadness, Characteristic of the Literature of the Age," to be most worthy of the prize. The accompanying envelop was found to contain the name of JULIUS H. To him, therefore, the medal is awarded. WARD. JAMES HADLEY, ERRATA.-On p. 30, 1. 17, for retrospection read introspection; p. 51, l. 1, for grave read grain; p. 52, 1. 23, insert; before and and after brook; p.54, 1. 37, for sight read insight; p. 56, 1. 22, insert quotation marks before from and after despair; p. 57, 1. 3, for power read poem—1. 20, for Novates read Noralis; p. 58, 1. 7, for setting read settling; on p. 72, 1. 16, for destin,és read destinés; 1. 31, for boys read boy. |