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Ebenezer Jones : a study Brookes, Roger Keith 1971

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EBENEZER JONES: A STUDY fey ROGER KEITH BROOKES B.Ed., University of B r i t i s h Columbia, 1969 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF Master of Arts i n the Department of English We accept t h i s thesis as conforming to the required standard THE UNIVERSITY.OP BRITISH COLUMBIA A p r i l , 1971„ In p r e s e n t i n g t h i s t h e s i s in p a r t i a l f u l f i l m e n t o f the r e q u i r e m e n t s f o r an advanced degree at the U n i v e r s i t y o f B r i t i s h C o l u m b i a , I a g r e e tha t the L i b r a r y s h a l l make i t f r e e l y a v a i l a b l e f o r r e f e r e n c e and s t u d y . I f u r t h e r ag ree t h a t p e r m i s s i o n f o r e x t e n s i v e c o p y i n g o f t h i s t h e s i s f o r s c h o l a r l y p u r p o s e s may be g r a n t e d by the Head o f my Department o r by h i s r e p r e s e n t a t i v e s . It i s u n d e r s t o o d tha t c o p y i n g o r p u b l i c a t i o n o f t h i s t h e s i s f o r f i n a n c i a l g a i n s h a l l not be a l l o w e d w i t h o u t my w r i t t e n p e r m i s s i o n . Department o f The U n i v e r s i t y o f B r i t i s h Co lumb ia Vancouve r 8, Canada Date A series of misfortunes had the effect of l i m i t i n g Ebenezer Jones' verse pub l i c a t i o n to a single volume. Although many notable writers of the time found merit i n the work, Studies of Sensation and Event, i t was not a popular success? however, Dante Gabriel Rossetti prophesied that one day i t would be recovered from i t s undeserved obscurity. Stimulated by Rossetti, several persons made an attempt to revive i n t e r e s t and the volume was re-issued, posthumously, i n 1879. I t again f a i l e d to generate much i n t e r e s t , however, and i t has continued i t s decline into obscurity to the present. It has been common i n the past for c r i t i c s to dismiss Jones' poetry as "Spasmodic," or "Chartist" labels that are not only inaccurate but, i n focussing upon a single aspect, overlook the significance of the whole work. Ebenezer Jones' book i s la r g e l y s i g n i f i -cant as a response to the period of c r i s i s during which he l i v e d . In a period of rapid change and grave uncer-t a i n t i e s , Jones exemplifies the t r a n s i t i o n a l poet who, adhering to the romantic l i t e r a r y t r a d i t i o n , t r i e s to come to terms i n his a rt with contemporary issues. Many of the foremost writers of the time shared Sossettl's appreciation of Jones' talent. They recog-nized that many of the f a u l t s and weaknesses of Jones' poetry resulted from his attempts to analyze and describe sensation in an original and meaningful way; disatis-faction with conventional diction led Jones to experi-ment with words in an effort to achieve the desired effect. The revolutionary nature of his work, the choice of unconventional subjects and their treatment in strange and exciting ways, occasionally results in "jaggedness" or obscurity? on the other hand, he frequently succeeds in conveying powerful sensations with c l a r i t y and force. Cri t i c s in the past have tended to discuss Jones' poetry within the context of his biographical misfortunes. These seriously affected Jones' work and for this reason require* discussion, but i t w i l l be the intention of this study to indicate that many of Jones' poems may be en-joyed as works of art without recourse to his biography. This thesis, therefore, w i l l consist of two parts: the f i r s t three chapters w i l l relate the known facts of Jones' l i f e and the circumstances surrounding the two editions of his Studies of Sensation and Event; and chapter four w i l l examine his poetry a s tolts, original aspects and as sensitive response to the period. Introduction Chapter 1. Biographical background and c r i t i c a l reception of Studies of Sensation and Event. 2. Events following the appearance of the book to i860. 3. Circumstances surrounding the issue of the 1879 e d i t i o n of the Studies. 4. I, A discussion of c h a r a c t e r i s t i c poems. i i . Jones'poetry as a response to the age. Conclusion Footnotes Bibliography Appendix 1. Four poems omitted from the second e d i t i o n i i . 5 unpublished l e t t e r s r e l a t i n g to the 1878 r e v i v a l of in t e r e s t i i i . Poems by Jones that have been anthologized. INTRODUCTION Ten years after the death of Ebenezer Jones, and nearly twenty after the publication, In 18^3, of his single volume of verse, Studies of Sensation and Event, Dante Gabriel Rossetti wrotei His poems . . . had been published some five years before my meeting him, and are f u l l of vivid dis-orderly power . . . these "Studies" should be, and one day w i l l be, disinterred from the heaps of verse deservedly buried.1 An attempt to realize Rossetti*s prophecy created a flurry of Interest in 1879 # "but i t ultimately proved abortive; and, despite Theodore Watts' (later Theodore Watts-Dunton) assertion that Jones* influence upon other writers was so great that "no student of nineteenth century poetry can leave him unread," his work once more was cast into obscurity. Apart from passing remarks, frequently erroneous, in l i t e r a r y histories, Jones' poetry has excited l i t t l e interest i n the present century. It i s true that Ramsay Colles, in August 19C4, wrote a longish monograph for the Gentleman's Magazine entitled "Ebenezer Jones," but i t i s merely a reworking of material from the intro-duction to Heme Shepherd's I879 edition of Studies of  Sensation and Event with some of Watts-Dunton*s2 earlier observations. In 1909 # a Reverend T. Mardy Rees, exiled in Chelsea, wrote a single page introduction to two pages of poetry, under the t i t l e Ebenezer J ones, the Neglected Poet. The Mardy Rees ar t i c l e l e f t Jones no less neglected than previously, for the only original aspect of the piece Is his effort to "repatriate" "this notable Welshman." Unfortunately, the contemporary c r i t i c , Jack Lindsay, decided not to continue with his plans for publishing his The Starfish Road, for which he had already written a chapter on Ebenezer Jones,3 and thus, the most extensive reference to the poet i n recent times remains the following imaginative treat-ment of an episode belonging to his boyhood days. John Betjeman, under the t i t l e "An Incident in the Early Life of Ebenezer Jones, Poet, 1828," quotes the follow-ing extract from Sumner Jones' "In Memoriam" notice in the 1879 edition of Studiesi We were together at a well-known boarding school of that day (1828), situated at the foot of Highgate H i l l , and presided over by a dis-senting minister, the Rev. John Bickerdike, whose peculiar nasal feature had earned for him among us boys the appellation of "Snipe." It was a theme of frequent discussion among us whether the worthy man had ever found that out - which some of us believed and some not. We were together, though not on the same form? and on a hot summer after-noon, with about f i f t y other boys, were l i s t l e s s l y conning our tasks in a large schoolroom buil t out from the house, which made cover for us to play under when It was wet. Up the ladder-like stairs from the play-ground a lurcher dog had strayed Into the schoolroom, panting with the heat, his tongue l o l l i n g out with thirst. The choleric usher, who presided, and was detested by us for his tyranny, seeing this, advanced down the room. Enraged at our attention being distracted from our tasks, he dragged the dog to the top of the stairs, and there l i f t e d him bodily up with the evident Intention - and we had known him do similar things - of hurling the poor creature to the bottom. "YOU SHALL NOT'." rang through the room, as l i t t l e Ebby, so ex-claiming at the top of his voice, rushed with kindling face to the spot among a l l the boys - some of them twice his age. But even while the words passed his l i p s , the heavy f a l l was heard, and the sound seemed to travel through his listening form and face, as with a strange look of anguish In one so young, he stood s t i l l , threw up his arms, and burst out Into an uncon-trollable passion of tears. With a coarse laugh at this, the usher led him back by hi s ear to the formi and there he sat, long after his sobbing had subsided, like one dazed and stunned. The Incident Inspired the following poem by Betjemani The lumber of a London-going dray, The still-new stucco on the London clay, Hot summer silence over Holioway. Dissenting chapels, tea-bowers, lovers* l a i r s , Neat new-built v i l l a s , ample Grecian squares. Remaining orchards ripening Windsor pears. Hot silence where the older mansions hlde ? On Hlghgate H l l l * s thick elm-encrusted side, And Pancras, Homsey, Islington divide. June*s hottest silence where the hard rays strike Yon h i l l - f o o t house, window and well alike, School of the Reverend Mr. Bickerdike. For sons of Saints, blest with this world's possessions (Seceders from the Protestant Secessions), Good grounding in the more genteel professions, A lurcher dog, which dray men kick and pass Tongue l o l l i n g , thirsty over shadeless grass, Leapt up the playground ladder to the class. The godly usher l e f t his godly seat, His skin was prickly in the ungodly heat, The dog lay panting at his godly feet. The milkman on the road stood staring In, The playground nettles nodded "Now begin" -And E v i l waited, quivering, for sin. He l i f t e d i t and not a word he spoke, His big hand tightened. Could he make It choke ? He trembled, sweated, and his temper broke. "YOU SHALL NOT!" clear across to Highgate H i l l A boy's voice sounded. Creaking forms were s t i l l . The cat jumped slowly from the window s i l l . "YOU SHALL NOT!" f l a t against the summer sun, Hard as the hard sky frowning over one, Gloat, l i t t l e boys! enjoy the coming Fun! "GOD DAMNS A CUR. I AM, I AM HIS WORD!" He flung i t , flung i t and i t never stirred, "You shall not! - shall not!" ringing on unheard. Blind desolation! bleeding, burning rod! Big, bull-necked Minister of Calvin's God! Exulting milkman, red-faced, shameless clod. Look on and jeer! Not Satan's thunder-quake Can cause the mighty walls of Heaven to shake As now they do, to hear a boy's heart break.* In one of the few recent references to Ebenezer Jones, Rosalie Glynn Grylls (Lady Mander) recalls Watts-Dunton's pronouncement by referring to Jones as an i n -fluence on the early Rossetti.5 The influence i s not, however, readily discernible, and unfortunately Miss Grylls makes no further allusion to the connection. Rossettl's correspondence shows that he did recognize the merit in Jones' work - Rossetti was one of the major parties in the attempt to resuscitate Jones' poetry - but his enthusiasm was far from uncritical. Jones' "Incidental influence on Meredith" i s noted by B. Ifor Evans in his English Poetry of the  Late Nineteenth Century,6 although there i s no evidence that Meredith was familiar with the work of the earlier poet. Although Watts-Dunton laid great emphasis on Jones as a li t e r a r y source, the influence of a minor poet on a major one i s , of course, not always easy to ascertain. Nevertheless, Watts-Duntons' words have a ring of authenticity about them i n a way that he never envisionedj the significance of Jones' writing has so far gone unobserved, except in the case of Jack Lindsay who, however, adopts a different view point from that of this paper.7 It i s the thesis of this study that Jones' work exemplifies the characteristics of the age he lived i n . The thirties and forties of the last century were decades of extreme stress, as society tried to make the adjustment from the old, r i g i d class system based on an agrarian regime to the new, more democratic bourgeois society grounded In a commercial policy of lalssez faire. Jones' work Is pre-eminently a passionate response to the needs, whether rationalized or Intuited, of a society in tran-sition. The purpose of this examination w i l l be two-fold. The f i r s t part w i l l present the biographical and histor i c a l aspects of Jones' story that culminates with the appearance of the 1879 edition of Studies; the second part w i l l pre-sent an analysis of the poetry against the background of the age. Today, the reader Is almost wholly dependent for biographical details on Ebenezer Jones upon secondary material and this i s limited, for the most part, to three sourcesi Sumner Jones' memorial of his brother;"Reminis-cences" by Jones' friend W.J. Linton; and, three articles by Theodore Watts-Dunton In the Athenaeum. Further In-formation Is provided by William B e l l Scott, some of whose letters, with those of Rossetti, contain additional valuable information. Unless otherwise stated, none of these letters - a l l In the Penklll or Angell Papers i n "Special Collections" at the University of B r i t i s h Columbia - have yet been published.8 CHAPTER ONE Ebenezer Jones (1820-1860) was born In Canonbury Square, Islington on 20 January 1820, the second son of Robert and his second wife Hannah. Robert Jones was of Welsh extraction, but his wife, Hannah, (nee Sumner) came from a long established Essex family. Both parents were of solidly respectable middle-class backgrounds with similar sectarian views on religion. There were five other children born to this marriage, Mary (1816-38), Sumner (b. 1818), David (b. 1822), Selina (182^-62), and Hannah (1827-79). Sumner Jones relates that the family was i n "competent circumstances," a fact duly acknowledged by the frequent v i s i t s of the "tea and toast parsons" of the extremist sect of Calvinist dissenters to which the Joneses belonged. The sect was characterized by austerity and intense bigotry (SJ, p. xxvli), and the joyless tenets of that faith were grimly applied in the Jones household. The older children were avid readers, but the only books admitted into the house were those in which "useful knowledge" was framed in a setting of religious "tags" — books of solid doctrinal divinity, and worst of a l l books of overwrought "s p i r i t u a l " experience and hysterical evangelism . . . while the Bible, and a compilation of short questions and long answers (we wished It had been the other way), dreaded by us, and called the "Assembly's Catechism", were i n constant use to f i l l up a l l gaps. Dr. Watts and Kirk White were permitted on our Parnassus; but Shakespeare and even Milton were kept In rigorous quarantine. Of Byron we had a mysterious notion, gathered from hearing our elders now and then speak of him shudder-ingly. . . . Of Shelley we had never heard. (SJ, pp. xxlx-xxx) According to Watts-Dunton (TWD 1), i t was Mary who took i t upon herself to counter the harmful effects of extremist dogma, and Ebenezer, as he grew up, was increasingly f i l l e d with gratitude and admiration for his sister. He later expressed his sense of obligation in "The Seekers," a requiem for Mary written six years after her deatht Twice three years in this tomb she hath la i n ; Speak low speak low. One like to her doth the earth yet contain? We have sought ever; i s the search vain? Speak low. Answer we nothing? none have we found? Weep not, weep not. One like to her earth could but wound, Sense with but wearying trammels bound; — Weep not. (P. 190) Both Mary and Sumner idolized their younger brotheri Sumner Jones particularly was impressed by the inherent sense of nobility that seemed to govern a l l his brother's thoughts and actions. Throughout his l i f e , Sumner looked up to Ebenezer with a regard verging on hero-worship; and he was b i t t e r l y disillusioned and re-sentful when Ebenezer's verse failed to achieve the popular acclaim that Sumner f e l t was Its due. The ex-planation he gave to Watts-Dunton concerning his reluc-tance to publish his own work Illuminates Sumner's feelings i n this regardt During Ebenezer's life-time nothing would have Induced me to bring out a volume of poems. I not only saw how he had been served; but i f success were certain, that alone would have obliged me to desist, for I loved him as men—saving by women—are very rarely loved in this world, and thank God he died knowing i t . (TWD 3) The oppressive atmosphere of the Jones house-hold was soon to be enlivened by the Introduction of the writings of Carlyle and Shelley, but this event was but a prelude to an experience that was to prove far more distressing to young Jones' i d e a l i s t i c vision than the circumstances of his home l i f e . In the mid-thirties Robert Jones f e l l i l l . His illness endured and brought about a reversal In the family fortunes, which In turn meant an end to the v i s i t s of the peripatetic divines who removed themselves to other more affluent homes. The formerly rigorous proscriptions slowly relaxed In their absence and one day Ebenezer Jones brought home a copy of Sartor Resartus. Whole passages of Carlyle*s book were committed to memory. As Sumner remarks, here for the f i r s t time, his brother discovered the bold expression of humanitarian ideals that he had longed to articulate and which were to have so profound an influence on his poetry, his p o l i t i c s , his l i f e (SJ, p. xxxix). Other books followed rapidly, i n particular an edition of Shelley's Poems, which "afterwards had a magical effect upon him"--an effect which w i l l later be traced In his verse. Because the family circumstances continued to worsen, i t became necessary i n 1837 for Ebenezer to contribute to the family budget. He was found a position as clerk i n the c i t y warehouse of a tea merchant. The father, notwithstanding his infirmity, had taken as much care in the selection of a place of employment for his sons as he had done i n the choice of their schools. It i s from personal observation and ex-perience that the "Song of the Gold-Getters" i s written, and the sickening disgust and fearful apprehension of those powerful and cold-blooded autocrats i s expressed in the chorus to the "Song of the Kings of Gold"i We cannot count our slaves, Nothing bounds our sway, Our w i l l destroys and saves, We l e t , we create, we slay. Ha! Ha! who are gods. (P. 46) Many times Sumner and Ebenezer Jones must have reflected how similar their lot was to that of slaves. They worked a twelve hour day from eight to eight and had an hour's walk to and from their lodgings, to which they would return exhausted at night. They worked those hours six days a week, and Sunday was spent tending to Mary. She was consumptive and when the rest of the family moved to relatives of the father In Wales, Ebenezer would walk his sister to Chapel each Sunday, after which they would s t r o l l together in the country-side. When she died, aged twenty-two, in 1838, the brothers were relieved of one of their more pressing responsibilities. For the f i r s t twelve months in his new situation i n the c i t y , Jones wrote l i t t l e or nothing; physical exhaustion and emotional shock combined to fatigue his body and dash his s p i r i t s . Eventually, he made a plea for a small amount of leisure time both for reasons of health and self-culture, Sumner Jones describes the Bumble-like response that self-culture led to pride of Intellect, which . . . was "One of Satan's peculiar snares." This language was actually held by men—our employers—who though conducting a wholesale business, in which they amassed large fortunes, stooped, as did others like them, to the lowest tricks of r e t a i l trade. Thus, save that his young genius could not be slain, was Mammon l e f t to fin i s h what the bigots had begun. (p. x l i l i ) The request was denied but the boy found solace in the new ideas he had discovered i n Carlyle and Shelley. Carlyle fs assertion of a beneficent God brought much comfort but, more importantly, Jones learnt to be resolute, to refuse to be browbeaten into submissiveness, and to draw upon reserves of strength within himself to fight the forces which threatened to bear him down. He discovered in man a nobility and a dignity with which to raise himself above the degrading selfishness and parsi-mony that surrounded him. But man must be prepared to fight. He must st i f f e n his w i l l to do battle; then, even i f he f a i l s he may gain satisfaction from the ex-perience of having resisted. Such was the antidote Carlyle offered as a means of combatting the evils of the age» Name i t as we chooset with or without visib l e Devil*, whether in the natural desert of rocks and sands, or In the populous moral Desert of selfishness and baseness,—to such temptation are we called. Unhappy i f we are not! . . . Our wilderness i s the wide world in an Atheistic Century; our Forty Days are long years of suffering and Fasting; nevertheless to these also comes an end. Yes, to me also was given,if not Victory, yet the con-sciousness of Battle, and the resolve to persevere therein while l i f e or faculty i s l e f t . 1 Carlyle goes on to assert that i t i s a man's duty to himself to strive for the Ideal, to reach out toward truth. No matter what situation or circumstances a man finds himself in, i f he i s determined nothing can prevent his reaching out for the ideal. Nor has a man's physical surroundings any power to prevent the attainment of that same ideal for i t rests within him, i n most cases unrealized. The following passage seems almost directed specifically to the young Jones, but there were many others to whom It brought fresh hearti The situation that has not Its Duty, i t s Ideal, was never yet occupied by man. Yes here, In this poor, miserable?? hampered, despicable Actual, wherein thou even now standest, here or nowhere is thyy Ideali work i t out therefrom; and working, believe, l i v e , be free. Pool! the Ideal Is i n thyself, the impediment too i s In thyselft thy Condition Is but the stuff thou art to shape that same Ideal out ofi what matters whether such stuff be of this sort or that, so the Form thou give i t be heroic, be poetic? 2 Hector Macpherson writes of Carlyle that "he l i f t e d a whole generation of young men out of the stag-nating atmosphere of materialism and dead orthodoxy into the region of the Ideal,"3 and Carlyle*s s t i r r i n g words could hardly have failed to gain an echoing response from the young poet in 1838. In addition to spi r i t u a l comfort, Jones found in Carlyle*s work a warm humanitarian Impulse that was reinforced by his reading of Shelley*s poetry. But Shelley had no time for martyrst to Carlyle*s philosophy of stoical endurance Shelley would have replied that acquiescence encourages the oppressor to further out-rages. In the "Ode to Liberty" he writest He who taught man to vanquish whatsoever Can be between the cradle and the grave Crowned him the King of Li f e . Oh, vain endeavour! If on his own high w i l l , a willing slave, He has enthroned the oppression and oppressor. Nor had he much respect for Priestsi "Queen Mab" i s an indictment of the two institutions, the Church and the State, which unite i n their efforts to advance the cause of the rich and retard that of the poor. Of the former he writest Falsehood demands but gold to pay the pangs Of outraged consciencei for the slavish priest Sets not great value on his hireling faitht A l i t t l e passing pomp, some servile souls, Whom cowardice i t s e l f might safely chain, Or the spare mite of avarice could bribe To deck the triumph of their languid zeal, Can make him minister to tyranny. 5 Jones found in Shelley's poetry an emphatic statement of many of his own ideas on the human condi-tion and on social reform. I f he discovered in Carlyle a moral strength with which to combat doubt and despair, in Shelley he discovered confirmation of his own inner convictions concerning the necessary improvement of the lives of the exploited workersi a more equitable d i s t r i -bution of wealth based on labour rather than possession; a hatred of a l l forms of despotism; and a firm belief i n a world characterized by universal love. The poet's part i n the achievement of this ideal was of paramount importance. In the f i r s t instance, the poet, gifted with visionary knowledge, would be respon-sible for achieving p o l i t i c a l and social reform by encouraging the people to cast off the yokes which en-slaved them; and then i t would be the poet's task to instruct men in reforming society along lines of mutual trust and affection. Second, the poet by means of his art would keep ideals of beauty and truth before even the humblestof men, who thus would be led to a new moral awareness. Such were the ideas that emerged from this formative period i n Jones' l i f e ; and they provide the basis of the moral philosophy that he eventually suc-ceeded In synthesizing in his verse, Ebenezer Jones' philosophy of reform never reached the sophisticated level that Shelley attained. His hatred of nepotism and other forms of material iniquity j u s t i f i e d for him the use of violence i n the event that other means failed to succeed. In "Ways of Regard," after the poet has described at great length the physical and spi r i t u a l degeneration of the lower orders whose hopeless situation i s ruthlessly exploited by unscrupulous rulers, a young man promises to carry their grievances to King and Senate. He concludest Within this cavern Are thousands, sworn to rise from out the mire, Whereto you damn them} they w i l l rise, -w i l l rise, Though war may hew their pathway, though their march Be i n blood to the armpits! Oh that i t were mine To lead them bloddless conquerors' They w i l l r i s e , — But with the chains they shatter from their limbs, Must they do i t hellishly. A vessel, laden With captives fetter'd unto famine and plague Now i s this landj the slaves force-freed, w i l l make It A burning wreck} themselves amidst the flames, Maniacs, wild dancing. Oh who, who can know, How to redeem this people? (P. 16?) One means of redeeming the people which occurred to the young Jones was the nationalization and more equable distribution of the land. Nationalization of the land formed the cornerstone to Ebenezer's p o l i t i c a l platform and found i t s most complete expression i n his pamphlet on land monopolization, written in 184-9,6 The germ of the idea may be seen in the t i t l e s of the only two other recorded tracts by Jones—"The Conciliation of Society by the Organization of Labour," published i n Robert Owen's New Moral World, i n 1839} and "Arguments for and against Private Property," published at about the same time i n Goodwin Barnby's Promethean, Or  Communitarian Apostle, a Monthly Magazine. Robert Owen's New Moral World had appeared in 183^ as the organ for Owen's own brand of socialism! Owen's philosophy, which owes much to Rousseau, i s often crudely fashioned but the man was sincere and sought only to be of service to the underprivileged. He was a tireless worker within the general agitation for reform, although he had l i t t l e sympathy for the Chartists and the Members of the Corn Law League, whom he f e l t deluded themselves i n thinking that p o l i t i c a l reforms would cure their I l l s . 7 His reforms required the complete restructuring of society and the education of the populace towards a superior moral character. For a time, Ebenezer Jones became a disciple of Owen. He would have been impressed by Owen's philanthropic measures and by his humanitarian Impulses. But, concerned more with the Individual's Improvement of himself, to be encouraged by a fairer distribution of land and the removal of p o l i t i c a l measures designed to confine the lower classes to the same inferior station, Jones could not sympathize with the substi-tution of one form of regimentation, however benevolent, for another. The essence of his own belief was that man should be granted the means—independence through possession of land—to improve by virtue of his own endeavour. In a footnote to his pamphlet on "The Land Monopoly" he underlines his support for private enterprlzet This Tract i s by no means . . . intended to favour the notion of Communism. In-equalities of Fortune are as unavoidable as they are just, and are not less useful than ornamental to a nation. Communism i s indeed nothing but an ephemeral, though fierce reaction against that confiscation from most men of a l l property of every kind whereby i s con-stituted the land monopoly, and suppos-ing i t for a moment triumphant, the day of i t s establishment would also be the day of i t s repudiation, by even i t s warmest disciples. 8 The Socialist movement commanded Jones' sym-pathy but his own decided views prevented him from making his support absolute. As with Socialism, so with Chartlsmt he was sympathetic to the demands of the Chartists and wrote in their support on occasion; he even edited for a time a newspaper, The Fireside Journal (previously The Odd-Fellow) owned by Henry Hetherington, who had helped draw up the "People's Charter." Both papers carried p o l i t i c a l leaders which advocated p o l i t i c a l reform. Ebenezer has been labelled a Chartist by some literar y critics.9 Gladstanes-Waugh, i n the query which began the chain of events that culminated in the 1879 edition of Studies of Sensation and Event, calls him a C h a r t i s t , 1 0 and Rossetti when he responded to the query the following month, may have given credence to the idea with the following commentt I met him only once in my l i f e , I believe i n 1848, at which time he was about thirty, and would hardly talk on any subject but Chartism. W.J. Linton, himself a confirmed Chartist and friend of Jones, points out that Ebenezer i s sometimes confused with his namesake and fellow poet, Ernest Jones, who gave his pen to the Chartist movement. Linton quotes from memory the following doggerel which neatly distinguishes between the man, primarily a poet, who f e l t i t his duty to support the struggle for human rights, and the man, primarily a po l i t i c i a n , who used his poetic talents to further the cause» Eben Jones, A swift brook among stonesj And less earnest Jones, Scanter brook with more stones. Outspoken in what he considered to be a just cause, Jones would easily have merited i n many people's view the pejorative epithet "Chartist.'' "Those were the days," Linton recalled in 1879, in which that now innocent word Radical meant something exceedingly reprehensible i f not acutally disreputable» days when to wear a beard or an incipient moustache would c a l l down the condescending scowl of the counting-house Jove, and according to the jovial mood subject you to instant dismissal or the gently severe request that you would leave off that enormity In business hours. (p. lxx) Jones, of course, sported a beard» and he was not the person to be intimidated or deterred from a course of action he had determined on. "He dared do anything that he thought right," says Linton? but, while his sympathies were with the Chartists, they went "beyond, I would add, to republicanism," (p. l x x i i ) . Nevertheless, even though he could not avoid aligning himself with the popular reform movements i n the years prior to the publi-cation of his book of poems, and though he f e l t strongly enough to write in support of the movements, i t was poetry that had f i r s t claim to his pen» and i t was as a poet that he f e l t he would eventually be recognized, and through i t make his most effective contribution to mankind. When his f i r s t published poem, "Ode to Thought," appeared i n Tate's Edinburgh Magazine, i n I838, Jones could not conceal the satisfaction i t gave him. Finally, i t seemed, his hopes and ambitions were going to be realized. As he and Sumner walked home that night, Ebenezer confided to his brother his determination to "emancipate himself by his pen from ci t y thraldom," "From that time forth," Sumner recalls after working i n the City a l l day, he set himself to bend night to his fixed resolve, and completed, during the next four years, a series of poems of which the "Studies" are but a selection. (p. x l v i i ) His labours culminated;]in 1843 in the appearance of his book Studies of Sensation and Event. Into his book went a l l his passions, his protest against the tyranny of materialism, and his poetic Ideals. The book was also Invested with life-long hopes arid ambitions. It was to be a just i f i c a t i o n of Mary and Sumner's faith; i t was to be the Instrument of his liberation from "city thraldom"; but, above a l l , i t was to be the means of carrying to the hearts and minds of men his vision of universal love. After Sumner's account of the excitement and impatience with which his brother awaited the appear-ance of "Ode To Thought" (SJ, p. xlvi) one may gauge the anxiety, the hopes and the fears that must have attended the reviews of his f i r s t book. The f i r s t review of the Studies appeared in the Spectator on 9 December 1843. The book appeared in time to catch the Christmas trade, traditionally the best market for books of verse; but the Spectator review carried few glad tidings for the young aspirant. The reviewer detected elements of Browning, Tennyson, Barry Cornwall and the Cockney school; however, there was also "a warm voluptuousness, which, to do the world Justice, i s EBENEZER'S own." The voluptuous element was not only "gratuitous," but inconsistent with a somewhat moral seeming; done with an uncoveredness unnecessary to convey result or ex-press meaning, and yet exhibiting rather a gloating fancy than a vigorous passion. The reviewer was c r i t i c a l of what he considered serious moral lapses "but he was not totall y disparaging. The review concluded on a note that conceded that, i f Mr. Jones only observe suggested improvements, he might well succeed in the future. However, even such grudging praise was heavily qualified! Notwithstanding the faults of morals, taste, and c r i t i c a l principles, that pervade this author, with a strong dash of affectation super added, there seems to be in him a vein of true poetry, that might by care and labour be successfully wrought. There are frequent poetical passages in the volume, and traces of poetical powen but whether this would t e l l as i t now does, i f i t were abstracted from un-common ideas and sounding verbiage, to be occupied in expressing natural Images in simple language, may be a question. Undoubtedly, there poems in the volume that invite the charge of being "inconsistent with a some-what moral seeming," but the emphasis on "gratuitous" voluptuousness i s grossly exaggerated. The passage in "Zingalee," when a mariner, returning unexpectedly home from sea, discovers his wife and her lover in flagrante  delicto, i s described in fa i t h f u l detail; but there i s no sense of prurient relish—indeed, the episode i s essential to an understanding of the husband's emo-tional shock that ends in his insanity. The incident, however, i s used as a base from which to deliver a sweeping slash at "other poems [unidentified], where the treatment, or the subject, or both, i s i n the wanton style." A similar charge of writing with "Impure motive" was levelled by Thomas Hood, who was personally unac-quainted with the younger Jones, It was Sumner who had sent Hood a presentation copy of his brother's book, and i t was Sumner who was most offended by the accusation of immorality, and who was later at such pains to vindicate his brother's character. Yet, there was some consolation in the fact that the criticism was in a letter rather than in printt there was room for congratulation that Hood, who i t was hoped would review the book in his own magazine, had not 12 openly done that, which would have made matters worse» and so we both f e l t before we separated that evening. (SJ, p. xxv) But the censure was not allowed to remain private« in response to Gledstanes-Waugh's Inquiry, in 1870, William Bell Scott gave the following version which was to dis-tress Sumner Jones for nearly ten years: 13 Thomas Hood, who was very i l l at the time Jones's volume of poems was published, on receiving a presentation copy sent for the author, earnestly requesting to see him. Jones of course went immediately, proud to be so invited by one he so much respected, and saw Hood in bed. The author of the "Song of the Shirt" had fallen into a severe mood on his sickbedt a l l his l i f e , indeed, he was a great stickler for propriety of moral tone in literature; and while he acknowledged that he had sent for Jones because of the great poetic power i n his book, accused him so savagely, as my friend thought, of impure motive and tendency, that Ebenezer was rendered miserable. Bell Scott concludesj The person who could give the best account of Ebenezer Jones, perhaps, i s W.J. Linton now in New York. 14 When Linton did give his account, he contra-dicted B e l l Scott's versiont Ebenezer had not visited Hood, and i t was Sumner, not Ebenezer, who had sent the book. Furthermore, he continued, It was not i n despondency, but with defiant disdain that Eben met a rebuke so unexpected and so undeserved. Grieved he doubtless was; grieved that "impure motive" should be imputed to himi but i t did not make him "miserable". His answer was a manly letter to Hood, in courteous, collected, but incisive terms vindicating himself from a false charge. (p. l x v i i ) The only other review to appear i n December, 1843» was that in the Literary Gazetted whose reviewer was completely out of sympathy with Ebenezer*s versei Here i s a cat [said the Gazette's c r i t i c ] of another colour, and a strange wild cat i t i s . It i s long since we encountered a minion of the moon so original i n subject, thought and expression. It was said of Oliver Goldsmith that he touched no subject which he did not adorn; and i t may be said of Ebenezer Jones that he handles no subject which he does not make ridiculous. He i s wonderful i n his way. Of a l l the nonsense-verse trash we ever read the worst i s "Emily", We might multiply examples of every sort of f o l l y ; but we w i l l only quote two or three stanzas on different themes to add to the surprise of readers that ever such stuff was printed and published. [He refers to "Whimper of Awakening Passion"] The last verse i s indecent, and so we leave i t with Ebenezer; upon whom i t w i l l be well that a jury de  lunatlco lnqulrlendo never s i t , and we on that Jury. 16 With one exception, none of the early reviewers f e l t motivated to write about other poems than those of a "voluptuous" nature. "Emily," "Whimper of Awakening Passion", "A C r i s i s " , and "Zingalee" were each singled out as typifying the whole, and, where they were not roundly denounced on moral grounds, they were placed in the public stocks and Jeered at. The single notable exception was the March review i n The C r i t i c whose poetry reviewer discovered in "Plea for Love of the Universal" "the voice of genius." The reviewer went on to write, somewhat fulsomelyi The mind that thus hath uttered Its deep thoughts hath thoughts more deep to which i t cannot yet give words, but which, as time and practice make i t strong to conoeive and vigorous to express, i t w i l l assuredly send forth to swell the grand chorus of song, that from the beginning of the world has been gathering and proclaiming to man that God has endowed him with faculties more divine than those de-manded by the cares of l i f e , and the encouragement of which Is no less a duty, because a part of the scheme of creation—a g i f t entrusted by heaven that i t may be cultivated,—an account of which w i l l be demanded of him here-after; In Ebenezer's verse was recognized the "spark of divine f i r e " and the remainder of the volume, the writer found, supported his f i r s t impressions! Everywhere we found the footprints of genius. No smooth sounding nothings-no mawkish sentimentalities—no servile imitations offended. Faults there were, many and palpable; inelegancies of language, harsh rhymes, dissonant metres, some affectations both of sentiment and words; not unfrequently vagueness i s mistaken for profundity and mysticism substituted for thought; but these are errors which age w i l l correct, which friendly criticism has but to indicate to ensure their avoidance, and many of which have proceeded from an over-anxiety to appear, as well as to be, original. 17 In Its way, such extravagant praise i s as much to be deplored as the other extreme views; as criticism i t adds l i t t l e of constructive value, but as a morale booster i t may have helped to counter the disagreeable effects of the earlier reviews—and, at least, i t serves to put a l l such excesses into perspective. The tone of * n e Athenaeum review was more temperate, but once more the love-lyrics were noted as being "of a somewhat voluptuous character, and calculated to startle sober men like ourselves." The reviewer comments on the Spasmodic elements (not labelled as such) In the book and cautions the author to adopt a less pretentious style or else "run the risk of misconception. One knows not whether to ascribe the peculiarity to genius or conceit." Vacillating between stern reproof and encouragement, like a dowager aunt, the c r i t i c continuesi Let him, however, not mistake ust we are not depreciating his talentsj what we state i s meant in the way of admoni-tion and warning. There i s originality in many of his subjects. And, as i f fearing that such praise might prove too heady a draught, or else that his prodigality might encourage self-approbation, the reviewer hastily with-draws with a prim swish of skirts and leaves his parting Injunction to work i t s salutary effecti We recommend him to be more humble In his pretensions and simpler in his address, when next he appears in public. He may rest assured that there are other means of "pleasing" i n poetical composition, than by exag-gerating passion into maniac defiance, and exhibiting joy and grief in such extreme degrees that l i f e i s Insupport-able beneath the intensity of their pressure. The reception of Studies of Sensation and Event was by no means a rapturous one. But then, neither was i t an unqualified failure. Of a l l the reviews consisting of more than one paragraph, only that of the Literary Gazette (so far as may be determined) found nothing worthy of praise and encouragement; tributes were paid to "a vein of true poetry" and to "originality in many of his subjects," and The C r i t i c heralded the appearance of a potential "genius." The consensus overall seemed to be represented by one of The C r i t i c ' s more moderate pronouncements, that Ebenezer Jones showed true a b i l i t y and a potential he might realize i f he were to apply himself diligently to weed out the faults and affectations we have noticed, to throw himself boldly upon his own genius for thoughts, and to clothe them in the vest of pure, vigorous English. Certainly, his f i r s t l i t e r a r y venture had failed to generate the enthusiasm desperately desired, and assuredly the day of Ebenezer*s acceptance into the "Brotherhood of Art," with the concomitant emancipation from c i t y drudgery attendant upon such recognition, was not immediately at hand; yet, there was sufficient en-couragement in the notices to justify the belief that success depended only on time and poetic maturity. How, then, i s one to account for the fact that Ebenezer proceeded to destroy a body of poetry that was to have followed the f i r s t publication had i t been acclaimed, and that he forsook art for p o l i t i c s , limiting his output to a mere half-dozen more poems for the remaining seventeen years of his l i f e ? Sumner Jones had no doubt as to the cause. He laid the blame squarely at the door of the "perverse and lying criticism" of the reviewers. According to Sumner Jones, Ebenezer had imagined the world of art as a place of high ideals and scrupulous honesty? accustomed to perfidy and basenesslin the commercial world, he clung to the i l l u s i o n of a r t i s t i c integrity. Jones' ingenuous-ness stemmed largely from his Inexperience in publishing circles? he had l i t t l e leisure time to cultivate lit e r a r y acquaintances, and his fierce pride rejected friendship except on the basis of equality. The l i t t l e knowledge he possessed of worldly affairs was bookish and necessarily incomplete» The reception of his poems was a matter of genuine surprise as well as disappointment to my brother. He was prepared to profit by any f a i r severity of criticism. But seeing passages from his book studiously garbled.and wrenched from their context, to convey a false impression of the whole, forced him to hear the "Lie, let us l i e , " chorus of his world of t r a f f i c echoed in an arena where he had thought that a "free lance" would at least meet f a i r attack. Until thus disillusioned he had indeed fondly imagined that there was a brotherhood in Art. (P. I l l ) Theodore Watts-Dunton, though doubtless primed by Sumner, also explains Ebenezer's poetic surrender in terms of his a r t i s t i c disillusionment. Watts-Dunton describes how Ebenezer invested his dreams in a supra-mundane sphere of belles-lettres "where a poem had only to be good . . . to be hailed" as such} how belief in a "Brotherhood of Art" became a religion to him} how he built his hopes for alleviating widespread want on his work which, he was convinced, would meet with f a i r criticism even i f found lacking} and, f i n a l l y , how Ebenezer recoiled in disgust from the discovery that his ideal world was no different, in fact, from the sordid arena with which he was already familiari The way to daunt the dauntless i s to shatter his ideals. It was not so much that he smarted under the puny satire of those who reviewed him in the newspapers, but he sent present-ation copies of the book—(which he must have known showed the writer to have at least as incisive an i n t e l -lect as any man then at work in b e l l e s - l e t t r e s ) — t o those who f i l l e d the high places in literature? and with the exception of generous notes from Barry Cornwall and Mr. B..H. Horne, and another one or two, not a word of encouragement came to him—not a word of generous sympathy, (TWD 3) It i s Interesting to note that Watts-Dunton chooses to stress the effects of private indifference and the implied rejection of the Studies by some individuals In "high places." As the chief lit e r a r y c r i t i c of one of the leading lite r a r y journals of the day, Watts-Dunton was not only familiar with the in-fighting and personal r i v a l r i e s that have always char-acterized the lite r a r y arena, he also probably f e l t that i t behooved him to admonish occasionally l i t e r a r y men whose eminence placed them beyond the strictures of lesser pens. Furthermore, he was sensible, i n a way Sumner could never be, of the ephemeral nature of press reviews and their effects since he himself had written countless similar ones as a matter of course. On the other hand, Sumner, In a l l his writings on the subject, i s most concerned with the public aspects of his brother's "failure." Sumner's horror at anything approaching a public slur on Ebenezer's character, particularly where i t carried the implication of impropriety, may be reasonably attributed to his Calvinlstic upbringing. His letters to Rossetti are f i l l e d with a deep sense of gratitude to Rossetti and Watts-Dunton. For, above a l l , the Athenaeum articles represented for Sumner a f i n a l and public vindication of his brother's honour which had been besmirched a l l those years before. His letter to Rossetti dated 18 October I878, i s one long prayer of thanks. It concludes» But not' as I l a s t l e f t [the World] s h a l l I return, but rather with the sweet consciousness that what truth and love both desired should be done has now been done and great and abiding i s the s a t i s f a c t i o n to me and my daughter —who has been intensely interested i n what has been done fo r her uncle's memory and for my sake.1 Although each chose to Interpret the facts according to his l i g h t s , Sumner Jones and Watts-Dunton agreed that i t was the disappointing reception of his book which had determined Ebenezer i n the course he was to follow f o r the remainder of his l i f e . Sumner consistently contended that» I t was the public attacks, such as that i n the L i t e r a r y Gazette, that troubled my brother. He despised, never noticed them; but he saw c l e a r l y that they involved the f a i l u r e of his book. (SJ, p. xxv) I t would be d i f f i c u l t to extend much sympathy to one who quit writing because he was piqued that others i n "high places" did not r e g i s t e r the apprecia-t i o n he f e l t was his due. However, such an interpre-t a t i o n only p a r t l y f i t s the f a c t s . For, apart from the "generous notes" from R.H. Home and Barry Cornwall (whose l i t e r a r y importance ranked higher i n t h e i r own day than i n ours), Jones received a warm l e t t e r of praise from a writer whose eminence i n l i t e r a t u r e extended beyond his own time and country. On the f i f t e e n t h of A p r i l , 1844, only two days a f t e r the Athenaeum review, Charles Dickens wrote the following letter to Ebenezer Jones* Dear Sir, I don't know how It has happened that I have been so long In acknow-ledging the receipt of your kind present of your poems; but I do know that I have often thought of writing to you, and have very often reproached myself for not carrying that thought into execution. I have not been neglectful of the poems themselves, I assure you, but have read them with very great pleasure. They struck me at the f i r s t glance as being remarkably nervous, picturesque, imaginative, and original. I have frequently recurred to them since, and never with the slightest abatement of that impression. I am much flattered and gratified by your recollection of me. I beg you to believe in my un-affected sympathy with, and apprecia-tion of your powers; and I entreat you to accept my best wishes, and genuine though tardy thanks. 2 Nowhere does Sumner or Watts-Dunton mention Dickens* letter, which would certainly have weakened the construction that Watts-Dunton placed upon the facts. Sumner i s unequivocal In his assessment of the situation. On the other hand, W.J. Linton, one of the two friends closest to Ebenezer at this time—the other was Horace Harrall (pp. l x - l x l ) , claims that the effect of the reviews on Ebenezer, as one would expect of a man so self-sufficient and resolute, has been over-emphasized; Particular recollection f a i l i n g me, I should s t i l l know that he was not one to be crushed because, having enlisted among those desirous to make a figure i n the world, he found the world in no hurry to witness the performance. Knowing the worth of his attempt, surely he wished for and f e l t his right to expect some sympathy, i f not applause. The desire of appreciation belongs to a healthy mind. But he knew also the course of other poets, and had too much good sense not to be fore-warned of his own eventualities. Linton goes on to l i s t other poets to whom recognition came late, Including Thomas Hood and R.H. Home, He continues» My time of companionship with him must have been mainly between 1842 and 1848. I can rec a l l no special alteration of thought or demeanor at a l l attributable to the non-success of his li t e r a r y venture. Disappointment struck him in passing, but passedi having other and more poisoned darts with which to reach him. (pp. lxiv-lxvi) The implication i s that the cause for Jones* abandonment of his verse l i e s elsewhere. William James Linton, who later achieved dis-tinction as an engraver, was very close to Jones i n the years 1842-1848, and he i s the source for much information during this period. As i f anticipating that Sumner's memoir would be necessarily "a subdued account," Linton i s careful to portray the carefree liveliness of his friend, as he knew himt 3 A right capable man of business, diligent in his hours of work, however . . . he disliked that work, he could make amends for the enforced restraint by riotous, almost reckless enjoyment i n the after hoursi could play the bohemian as well as any never-calvinized youth among us, with perhaps a more eager craving and f u l l e r r e l i s h because of Calvinistic recollections. . . . Every pore of his being was open to pleasurable sensations, his attraction generally toward the best. Caught too readily perhaps (not being suspicious or distrustful) by a f a i r outside, loving easily, careless some-times of appearances (for formality surely he could have no respect), however wilf u l or careless, I always perceived and respected in him a pure clean-heartedness, a perception of the highest, a severely honest determina-tion to do right, and a chivalrous feeling very rare among men. . . . F u l l capacity for enjoyment, whether of his senses or his Intellectual faculties, characterised the man in his day of healthi delighted with a l l he saw, from the rugged bleakness of Wastdale to the pastoral repose of Buttermere, enjoying equally a row on Crummock-Water and our evening walk beside the golden woods to Keswick. . . . A worshipper of beauty, sensitive, pleasure-loving, impassioned, his erotic poetry was as much the affluence of his blood as of his brain (not that I find one line in It of which one need be ashamed)} and easily moved to love he could not help but sing, as the buds must open in the spring sunshine. (WJL, pp. l x x l i i - l x x v i l ) The curious note of regret tinged with reproof struck by the words "Caught too readily , . . careless sometimes of appearances," is explained by succeeding events—events which Linton went on to insist subse-quently resulted in his friend's poetic demise. He had the misfortune to f a l l in love with an anonymous young lady who could not return his love—she was betrothed to a friend of his whom she married. Poems such as "The Face," "A Happy Sadness," "Repose i n Love," and "Prayer to a Fickle Mistress," among others, "are pages torn from l i f e , and which t e l l a story of their own." (SJ, pp. xxi-xxil). She died shortly after marrying and Jones, v i r t u a l l y on the rebound, with characteristic impulsiveness proposed and was accepted by Caroline Atherstone, a niece of Edwin Atherstone (1788-1872), the poet whose gigantic labours included the thirty volume The F a l l of Nineveh. The young couple married within a few days of their meeting. William B e l l Scott, who was introduced to Jones by Linton and began his friendship about the same time, afterwards wrote of the marriage« Ebenezer's day of poetry was his day of love, many of his poems being written just before his marriage to the daughter f s l c l of Edwin Atherstone, the author of a poem of portentous length called "The F a l l of Babylon." [ s i c ] 4 Successive writers have been quick to point out the further inaccuracy that the love poems were inspired by one other than Caroline Atherstone. As Linton makes clear, "as regards the courtship of the wife, i t was too brief for much amount even of the most rapid rhyming" (p. l x x v i i ) . The only poem apparently commemorating the marriage Is the untitled "My wife my child come close to me." There are hints In Sumner's narrative that there may be more to the facts of the marriage than he i s prepared to divulge. It was, however, l e f t for W.J. Linton to state i n his "Reminiscences," sent from America, that the well-spring of Ebenezer*s poetry was soured at the source, u n t i l f i n a l l y i t ran dry. The cause of this phenomenon, he stated, was Caroline Atherstone. Miss Atherstone was of a striking personal appearance; she also possessed a fine singing voice. But, as B e l l Scott noted, " a l l her inheritance of beauty and musical talent did not ultimately insure her domestic peace or the well-being of her husband." The Joneses and the B e l l Scotts were acquainted and, on occasion, would spend a social evening together. B e l l Scott has recorded one of the rare pieces of factual information regarding the marriagei To Ebenezer*s many pains, In a temporary passion of admiration, he added another by marrying Miss Atherstone, a model for Cleopatra, possessed of a character-i s t i c a l l y rich voice, and power of using i t , that inspired her with ambition of a musical career. For two or three years we, that Is my wife and I — f o r my wife took to her enthusiastically on account of her musical talent,^-made a point of seeing Jones and his wife annually. Once we a l l went to the opera, where we were joined by the younger Costa; we were in his box, I believe. It was soon evident to me that Jones was incurably unhappy that evening, and possibly every evening. .5 The enigma surrounding the marriage i s the most mysterious aspect of the whole tantalizing a f f a i r . B e l l Scott's last words intimate much, but in fact say l i t t l e . Sumner skirts the issue entirely. In the forty-five pages of his memorial notice of his brother, he devotes one short paragraph to Ebenezer*s marriage, and even in that he restricts himself to a single comment, to the effect that Ebenezer was "lamentably a l l i e d " to Caroline Atherstone in marriage in 1844. Linton, three thousand miles away in New York, was under no such restrictions as Watts-Dunton, whose biographical account merely re-corded the fact of an unhappy marriage which could not be discussed; but, although he i s more forthright about the s t e r i l i z i n g effect of the marriage on Ebenezer's poetry, he is unwilling to discuss factsi Of the misery of that marriage I must speak. But how? Surely I have no thought of t e l l i n g the unhappy story after the manner of a witness in a police-court. Trite observations on causes also may be avoided. What would a l l the facts avail? . . . Facts! I never knew any, of man's or women's l i f e , that could not be stated in at least two ways. . . . I w i l l give no facts. Nor have I word to utter of the wife; of whom also personally I have but a faint impress, seeing but l i t t l e of her. I have to write only of what concerns my estimate of the man, of what remains stamped upon my memory as the truth i n r e l a t i o n to his conduct and his character. (pp. l x x v i l i - l x x x ) He goes on to pay t r i b u t e to Ebenezer's courage, and " C h r i s t - l i k e generosity and goodness." He compares his s u f f e r i n g to that of the Spartan boy with the fox under his vest gnawing his v i t a l s , bearing the pain as uncom-pl a i n i n g l y ! A man most keenly s e n s i t i v e , the torture he went through must have been agony indeed, the b i t t e r e s t a man could undergo. Facts he prefers to forget, but there i s no doubt i n his mind that here may be discovered the r e a l reason why Ebenezer renounced poetry f o r prose. I t was not the mean effusions of petty-minded c r i t i c s , he stated, but a genuine heart-sickness that sapped his v i t a l i t y and withered h i s poetic i n s p i r a t i o n at the fount. However laudable the reticence displayed by everyone i n t h e i r d e l i c a t e treatment of the subject, the fact remains that the extreme caution each displays makes i t well-nigh impossible to a r r i v e at a thorough estimate of the effects of the marriage upon the poet, except that a l l (including Sumner) seem agreed both that the marriage was an unhappy one and that i t had a pejorative e f f e c t on Jones' poetic v i s i o n . 6 One e f f e c t of Linton's account, however, was to embolden Sumner, in a postscript to Linton's "Reminis-cences, " to intimate circumstances he had hitherto to t a l l y ignored, "because I dared not trust to myself to speak." After noting that Ebenezer had, on more than one occasion, sought to escape the employment he detested, Sumner states (p. lxxxiv) that he would inevitably have freed himself, i f only because he could have been content "to live upon the ascetic edge of l i f e , " among li k e -minded men of the same high principles as himself. However, he was prevented by the circumstances of his home l i f e . He was fettered by the "incessant and extra-vagant claims upon him," by one whose excesses caused "s i l e n t l y borne" suffering and grief, one for whom Ebenezer sacrificed himself "In ccreasless striving to reclaim." The cause of the marital discord i s never re-vealed and the reticence of a l l involved only serves to encourage discussion. Sumner's concluding comments infer muchj that Jones' wife made "incessant and extravagant claims" upon her husband's finances--but for what reason? Was she a spendthrift or an addict; or was there some other motivation involved? Sumner's last quoted statement about Ebenezer's "sacrifice of himself in ceaseless  striving to reclaim," [my emphasis] would seem to support the theory of addiction. But, whatever the reason, i t was obviously such as to make i t Impossible for Jones to continue with his art. The biographical truth w i l l probably never be known, but the effects on Ebenezer*s poetic powers are manifest. To one whose l i f e had been a constant striving after the beautiful and true, and who f e l t divinely appointed to spread those ideals among men, the defile-ment of his courtly concept of love, expressed i n "Repose in Love" and "A Crisis,** among other poems, must have seemed like a betrayal of his last defences, following so soon upon the cool response to his book. It was W.J. Linton's confirmed opinion thatt Had he rejoiced in a happy home we had not been without more of such lines as those he did address to her ["My Wife and Child Come Close to Me"], a richer growth through culture of his poetic nature, and with the continuance of his day of love continuance of poetic aspiration. (p. l x x v i i i ) Disillusioned with love and belle lettres, he turned to pamphleteering. Having decided to reject poetry for p o l i t i c s , he ruthlessly destroyed a body of poetry intended as a sequel to his f i r s t book, lest he should be swayed from his newly resolved purpose by what Sumner referred to as his "lust of completion." Sumner b i t t e r l y opposed his brother's w i l f u l desertion of poetry for radical prose and there seems to have existed some enmity between them for some years on that account. 7 Their meetings were infrequent, the estrangement encouraged, rather than otherwise, by Sumner's taking a position in a bank in another part of the city. Doubtless, too, Jones' unhappy marriage i n -creased the sense of alienation. For many of the sixteen years u n t i l his death in I860, Ebenezer clung to the hope that he might bring about through radical prose reforms which had inspired much of his verse. He remained resolutely inflexible to Sumner's periodic entreaties. Unfortunately, he was confirmed in his resolution by signs of the same disease that had earlier taken the l i f e of his sister. The earliest notice of Ebenezer's i l l health comes from William Michael Rossetti. At Dante Gabriel Rossetti's request, a mutual friend, Major Caldwell, had arranged an introduction to Ebenezer Jones in 1848$ William Michael was present and described Ebenezer asi A thin, pale man, t a l l rather than otherwise, nervous-looking, and somewhat sickly? he spoke with a kind of careless seriousness, or measured and self-contained impetuosity. He was then already an invalid, suffering from dyspepsia, and probably from pulmonary disease. 8 Ebenezer was then twenty-eight years old! That same year, 1848, was the Chartist year? the year that an alarmed government called on the Duke of Wellington and the military to defend the Houses of Parliament against the militant Chartists. Over a half-million protest marchers were anticipated and prepared forj In the event, only a fraction of that number materialized and the expected confrontation was avoided. Nevertheless, feelings continued to run high, and in those tense months "Chartism*' was a word on everybody's l i p s . It i s hardly surprising, therefore, that when Rossetti met Ebenezer he "would hardly talk on any subject but Chartism"--slgnlficantly, however, in his p o l i t i c a l treatise published a few months later, there i s no reference to Chartism. While he wished passionately to see the reformation of society, he was less concerned that the masses obtain the vote than that they receive a f a i r share in the produce of the land. Throughout his l i f e , his idee fixe remained the returning of the land to the people, and his views received their fullest explication in a twenty-eight page pamphlet that appeared in 1849, under the t i t l e The Land Monopolyt The Suffering and Demoralization  Caused by I t j And The Justice & Expediency Of Its  Abolition. The content may be summarized thusi the land belongs to everyone but in the ages of barbarism the men of power and wealth, chiefs and leaders, usurped i t to themselves and conferred portions on others for p o l i t i c a l reasons; thus they disposed of what they never rightfully owned. Time and custom have confirmed landowners in their mistaken attitude toward private ownership encouraging the belief that the land was theirs to use as they saw f i t . The result has been inefficient cultivation and low productivity; in a land where i t has been calculated that ten million people could support in affluence one hundred and twenty million, given the proper means of cultivation, out of a population of forty million more than one in twenty persons are supported by charity. Frequently, the conditions of labour are so appalling that physical debility i s the inevitable result—however, a worse effect i s the spiritual and moral degeneration of men and women forced into a l i f e of servitude or pauperism. The land monopoly should be abolished and re-placed by a number of Land Commissioners whose functions would include the apportioning of shares i n the land to everyone; the regulation of land cultiva-tion to ensure maximum productivity; the f a i r compen-sation of landowners so that, within their lifetime, they would not suffer from the abrupt termination of a l i f e style to which they had become accustomed. I f a labourer were dissatisfied with his remuneration, he could apply to the Land Commissioners for land equiva-lent to that amount. The natural result would be a fa i r standard of l i v i n g for a l l , a hitherto unknown measure of Independence for the masses, and an end to involuntary servitude. The essay i s an attempt to revise the attitudes of those monopolizing the land but, unfortunately, the author allows his emotions to colour his judgement. The factual aspects of the treatise are confined to chron-i c l i n g the undoubted hardships of the people with l i t t l e corresponding weight attached to the means of alleviat-ing their distress. The proposal set forth by Ebenezer Jones would c a l l for a major restructuring of society which would leave no single person unaffected. Not only does Ebenezer f a l l to suggest concrete plans for such a major upheaval, his case rests on the willingness of those persons who have most to lose, (the landed gentry) to institute, organize, and supervise the reforms. As i s often the case in Utopian schemes, prac-t i c a l means are overlooked in the pursuit of a l t r u i s t i c ends. The necessity of reform demonstrated, the author states that i t i s not his intention to advocate any particular plani "Suffice i t to observe that several plans are possible, the d i f f i c u l t y being not in the finding of any, but in the selection of the best" (p. 8). The weakness of the paper i s underscored when, at two crucial stages in his argument, he resorts to analogy instead of proposition. On the problem of efficient management and regulation of his scheme, Jones places his trust in the readiness and capacity of the masses to ensure that the land i s managed efficiently? to suppose otherwise he claims, would be "to suppose national idiocy" comparable to that of a shipwrecked mariner indifferent to the life-boat sent for him, or of a starving wayfarer Inattentive to an offer of food shelter. (P. 6) And, concerning the equitable distribution of produce (although he has previously pointed to the deficiencies of the labour market and the d i f f i c u l t i e s inherent in "determining equal awards to equal claims"), he dismisses anticipated demands to demonstrate how such distribution would be effected without creating new inequitiesj The demand appears reasonable, but i s in reality l i t t l e more so than would be a demand for evidence that removal of a barrier between food and hungry men (hungry men that is, under the control of just laws, and equally entitled to obtain food), would be the means of getting food equitably eaten. (P. 8) Perhaps the above judgments are too harsh for what Ebenezer terms a "merely indicative sketch" but, given the fact that one in twenty of the population was on the poor r o l l s , and assuming that many of society's i l l s were directly attributable to the exploitation of the masses, as he claims, i t i s not sufficient merely to point to the evils and suggest a solution that, superficially at least, seems impractical. Under the circumstances, one would be Justified in requiring a more explicit statement; even for a sympathetic reader, the proposal leads only to frustration and impatience. I f , indeed, the author's scheme were as viable as he himself believed, then why did he not make more of an effort to add substance to his theory. In brief, des-pite the commendable motives that inspired the pamphlet, as a working proposition the scheme i s valueless for the simple reason that the people with the power to put the scheme into effect were the very ones who had least to gain. To abolish the land monopoly would require a revolution of the labouring classes, a fact which Ebenezer appears to recognize in his concluding pages. Universal suffrage was not yet achieved, and the author did not have too much confidence in i t s effectiveness; he f e l t that, with the power structure that then obtained, the achievement of a truly representative government was an idle dream. Yet, he sought to circumvent the movement for p o l i t i c a l reform in order to institute his social changes, appearing to believe that the landed gentry would more readily divest themselves of economic than p o l i t i c a l power. The principal intent of the pamphlet was the persuasion of landowners to reverse their attitudes toward private ownership; in doing so he evinces a charitable view of the upper classes that is at odds with characteristics the author describes frequently in his poetry. It would appear that Sumner Jones' instincts were sound, for, referring to the ephemeral nature of the radical prose which proliferated in those middle decades of the nineteenth century as an exasperated proletariat desperately sought overdue reforms, he wrote, "his pamphlet on the 'Land Monopoly' . . . with which he took singular pains, was certain to be void of effect." At this time, Jones had numerous p o l i t i c a l papers on hand, and he busied himself with continual modification and revision. Ultimately, Sumner wrote, none of them saw the light of day and in the end they were a l l destroyed. It seems, in retrospect, as though, his mind once made up, Jones continued w i l f u l l y to pursue a course which he must have known would lead nowhere and that he did this partly as a palliative to his wounded sensibilities and, partly, as a counter-action to suppress poetic tendencies that might once more be misinterpreted and bring their author nothing but increased unhappiness. That Jones was sensible of the perversion of his talents may be adduced from his anguished response to his brother's suggestion that he c a l l on his demigod, Carlyle» the young poet had moved to old Chelsea as he became increasingly i l l because he had a love of that part of the ci t y and enjoyed evening s t r o l l s along the river after he became too sick to take long walks. The move was also an act of homage to Carlyle whom ,1 ones would frequently see on his walks. One day Sumner re-minded his brother that Carlyle had acknowledged the gif t of Studies of Sensation and Event with a cryptic l i t t l e note and suggested that Ebenezer c a l l on him» He r e p l i e d , — I c a l l on Carlyle! See his look fixed on me, and hear his voice uttering the words—"Young man, what have you done?" And such a shudder passed over his face, and he was so distressed, that I never renewed the subject. (SJ, p. l v i i i ) In 1858, Jones was well enough to take a holiday in Jersey where, Sumner relates, he was f u l l of ebullient l i f e . One of the results of the holiday was that the poet began to write verse againt "I Believe," included i n R.H. Shepherd's 1879 edition, certainly belongs to this period; i t seems l i k e l y , too, that "A Winter Hymn to the Snow" was composed at this time. (On page v i of his memoir, Sumner talks of "a few poems composed in Jersey during the last winter of his l i f e . " ) It i s probable that the remaining poems were handed to W.J. Linton "as a parting g i f t " when that gentleman returned from the north of England i n i860, to find his friend dying. They were not included in the edition published twenty years later, as Linton was in America and did not have the poems with him. These poems are not known ever to have been published nor i s their location known. The last known poem of Ebenezer*s "To Death," written Just three months before he died, i s dated June 10, i860. Weeks later, yearning for the country side, Jones was moved to Brentwood in Essex to the house of a relative. He r a l l i e d briefly, but, f i n a l l y , died on Friday, September 14. He was buried in the churchyard at Shenfield, according to his f i n a l wishes, in a spot secluded but "not lonesome or neglected." It i s unfortunate that only three poems have survived from the last years, when Ebenezer Jones f i n a l l y relinquished old unpleasant memories and once more took up the vocation he seemed born to. It i s the more regrettable in that his last poems indicate a maturer vision, a greater control over his material, and a philosophical response to l i f e which enriches and adds depth to his verse. It i s fruitless to reflect on what might have been, yet i t i s d i f f i c u l t not to regret that streak of wilf u l pride which effectively prevented the f u l l maturation of his powers, which l e f t only an indication of his true capabilities, and which denied to later generations more poems comparable to "A Winter Hymn to the Snow," and "To Death." If Shelley, as Jones had written i n a letter to a M. Considerant (quoted p. x l i v ) , was a "lute," Ebenezer Jones was an Aeolian harp, whose harmonies are the spontaneous outpourings of f i n e l y f e l t sensations. I f he had been acquainted with more experienced writers, or, i f he had continued to exercise his poetic f a c u l t y , he might have achieved a greater control i n more of his verse. As i t was, too often his verse proved too f r a i l a vehicle to support the i n t e n s i t y of h i s fe e l i n g s . Such, al s o , i s the conclusion B e l l Scott ar r i v e d at. A f t e r r e c a l l i n g Coventry Patmore's Tamerton Church Tower, he writesi Ebenezer Jones was another who had sent me his book Studies of Sensation  and Event which had more v i t a l i t y , but less poetry. His excellence l a y i n his asp i r a t i o n , and i n a perception of more than he could express;9 The book, according to Watts-Dunton was fore-doomed to f a i l u r e because i t lacked "that harmonious balance of the f a c u l t i e s which comes into A r i s t o t l e ' s d e f i n i t i o n of happiness" (TWD 2). He describes i t as a "Camacho's cauldron, f u l l of a l l kinds of things r i c h and rare." Books Immeasurably I n f e r i o r , continued Watts-Dunton, have succeeded where i t f a i l e d . He noted i t s sensitive execution of mood and f e e l i n g i n a var i e t y of modes. Unfortunately, he f e l t , there was too much variety) "In a word i t s e c c e n t r i c i t i e s damned i t . " Before going on to consider the fate of the Studies It seems appropriate that a discussion of the man and his l i f e should conclude with an evaluation by one of those who was with him at his death. W.J. Linton was one of Jones* two most intimate friends; his f a m i l i a r i t y with the d e t a i l s of Jones* l i f e and work, p a r t i c u l a r l y i n the c r i t i c a l l y important years between 1842 and 1848, enable him to give a creditable, i f not wholly Impartial, assessment of his friend's character. He concludes his "Reminiscences** i Sensations of the keenest, whence quick Impulses; c l e a r insight as to r i g h t and wrong, from which arose his indignation against i n j u s t i c e ; fearlessness and f o r t i t u d e , and with them tenderness f o r others; rare poetic g i f t s , and at the same time the p r a c t i c a l t a l e n t and good sense of a man of the world; a l l these belonged to Ebenezer Jones. What he has written speaks f o r i t s e l f , needs no comment, eulogium or c r i t i c i s m from me. I have spoken only of the man. He was of the type of Alcibiades, but with an idea of duty which the Greek had not» a man seemingly marked out from his b i r t h , byv h i s very nature, to be be-loved and to succeed. Sorrow and Misfortune saw and envying slew him. Only a memory remains i n place of a l l that promise. (p, l x x x i i ) A memory, and of course h i s single volume, Studies of Sensation and Event. Ebenezer Jones died i n i860 b e l i e v i n g that his i l l - s t a r r e d book of verse had been I r r e t r i e v a b l y f o r -gotten. Such would probably have been i t s fate but f o r a chance query ten years l a t e r i n Notes and Queries, which began a series of events that culminated, nineteen years a f t e r the poet's death, i n the resurrection of Studies of Sensation and Event. The reappearance of the book, i n 1879» was due to the concerted e f f o r t s of a few individuals who sought to generate a popular demand fo r the deceased poet's work. One of the parties most con-cerned f o r the fate of the book was Dante Gabriel Rossetti, but not even his active promotion of the enter-prise ultimately ensured i t s success f o r , although a second e d i t i o n was eventually brought out, once again Jones' verses f a i l e d to achieve the public recognition that several of the foremost writers and c r i t i c s of the time f e l t they deserved. The p a r t i c u l a r s of the abortive r e v i v a l 1 are worth recording i f only f o r the revealing l i g h t they cast on the motivations of the two p r i n c i p a l s Involved, R.H. Shepherd and D.G. Rossetti. The stray query that resulted i n the recovery and preservation of Ebenezer Jones' poetry, some of i t s t i l l i n manuscript form, appeared i n the 8 January I870 number of Notes and Queries over the name of F. Gledstanes-Waugh. I t read 1 EBENEZER JONES—Can any of your correspondents supply me with p a r t i -culars of the l i f e of the above-named Chartist? He published a volume i n 1843, e n t i t l e d Studies of Sensation  and E v e n t — a very s t r i k i n g book, but long since out of p r i n t . Gledstanes-Waugh has long since swelled the ranks of the dead but his name l i v e s on because Rossetti noticed the request and was interested enough i n the subject to write, a month l a t e r , a longish l e t t e r i n reply. He r e c o l l e c t s his meeting with Jones and goes on to praise his versej he notes that he himself heard Browning "speak i n warm terms of the merit of his work" and that Monckton Milnes (Lord Houghton), likewise, admired the studies. He closes his remarks on Jones with the statement! " I t i s f u l l y time that attention should be ca l l e d to t h i s poet's name which i s a noteworthy one." He closes his l e t t e r with some words of high praise f o r a poet s i m i l a r l y neglected, Charles J . Wells, author of Joseph and His Brethren, and Stories A f t e r Nature. A f t e r c i t i n g Wells as an even more s t r i k i n g example of "poetic genuls" that f a i l e d to be recognized, he concludes! Well's w r i t i n g s — y o u t h f u l as they are—deserve to stand beside any poetry, even of that time, f o r o r i g i n a l genius, and, I may add f o r native s t r u c t u r a l power, though i n t h i s l a t t e r respect they bear marks of haste and neglect. Their time w i l l come yet. The relevance to Ebenezer Jones of the note on Charles Wells may not be immediately apparent, but i t should become more meaningful shortly. The next issue of Notes and Queries, March 5 i contained a further letter on the subject, from Rossetti's friend, William B e l l Scott. He added a few personal reminiscences and information which, unfortun-ately, contained several errors of fact. B e l l Scott's letter has been discussed elsewhere, together with the distressing effect that i t had on Sumner Jones u n t i l Watts-Dunton's articles, eight years later, f i n a l l y cleared his brother of the charge made public by Bell Scott, of "impure motive and tendency." However, i t i s not Sumner Jones' reaction that Is of present importance, but that of another person who also read the two letters concerning Ebenezer Jones and decided that i f men of such lite r a r y standing as Rossetti, Monckton Milnes, B e l l Scott, and even Robert Browning, were convinced of the merit of the compara-tively unknown Mr. Jones, the reissue of his book of verse might prove to be a rewarding venture. Richard Heme Shepherd in later l i f e was to become a reputable bibliographer, but in 1870 he was a young man of twenty-eight struggling to earn a l i v i n g by writing, and reduced to liter a r y hack work. In I869, he had translated a selection of poems from Baudelaire, who was generally unknown in England; the book was not a success. In the previous years, he had edited for B.M. Pickering the poetry of William Blake and at the time of reading Rossetti's and B e l l Scott's tributes to two poets of "neglected genius" was pre-paring the second book in a series of bookseller's editions of the classics on Shelley. One of the few ways to make money from the writings of others was to unearth or revive an early or unknown work of an author in current vogue; another and rarer, was to bring out an edition of a writer whose genius, like that of Blake and Keats, had gone unrecog-nized by his own generation. Shepherd was an astute, resourceful man and he thought he detected in the letters to Notes and Queries the basis for a profitable undertaking. Perhaps, he f e l t that the literary climate was not yet right, or perhaps, as he later stated in his prefacei Pressure of more urgent literary work between the years 1873 to I876— postponed the execution of a scheme which I never ceased to cherish. (p. x l i i ) Whatever the cause, nearly a decade was to pass before he returned to his scheme. During that period, the "more urgent lite r a r y work" included Poetry for Children (1872), by Charles and Mary Lamb; Coleridge's tragedy Osorlo (1873), with notes; "The Lover's Tale" and other uncollected juvenilia of Tennyson, unearthed from albums and periodicals and printed privately. (The edition of f i f t y copies was suppressed by court injunction.) He also published an anticipatory notice of Tennyson's "The Window; or, the Loves of the Wren," a copy of which he had obtained by "piecing together the lines which he had found distributed through the pages of a concordance to the author's works."2 It was inevitable that such unusual diligence and enterprise should eventually invite reflections on their author's motivation and lit e r a r y principles. The f i r s t public examination was occasioned by Shepherd's reprint of The Earlier Poems of Elizabeth Barrett  Browning, 1826 to 1833. The reviewer in the Athenaeum (15 December 1877) discussed at length the early and immature work of many poets whose distinctive voice emerged only when they had unlearned the amalgam of influences which characterized their early productions. He notes that the mature work of Byron, Shelley, Coleridge, for example, bears no relation to their earlier "quintessential amalgam of the litera r y vices of [their] many predecessors;" i t i s a consolation to the mature poetic mind that former puerile effusions are no longer in print, and in most instances, to quote Mrs. Browning, can "only be remembered against him by a few personal friends," Such was the gist of the reviewer's remarks as he led into the following passage, later cited i n the suit brought by Shepherd against the Athenaeumt But, while he i s r e j o i c i n g i n t h i s f ool's paradise, there i s eating into his b l i s s an insect, whom, i f he even perceived, he would ignore, . . . What we allude to i s , of course, the bookseller's hack. Though devoid, always, of the worst dash of l i t e r a r y taste, the hack has yet i n t e l l i g e n c e enough to recognize the pedestal of fame upon which a poet has been placed; though devoid of the f a i n t e s t t i n c t u r e of culture, he nevertheless can read and write. In a c e r t a i n sense, he must be c a l l e d a bibliographer, no doubt; f o r by dint of that enormous patience which often accompanies a dearth of i n t e l l i g e n c e , he makes himself r e a l l y learned i n editions and i n v a r i a -tions of texts. Having discovered some forgotten production, or some inchoate form of a known production of a famous writer, he scans the book-stalls t i l l he finds a copy, and then, i f he can f i n d a bookseller so f o r g e t f u l of the d i g n i t y of a noble c a l l i n g as to abet him, he reprints what the poet had so fervently hoped was "only remembered against him by a few of his personal friends." The piece, of course, i s anonymous so that there i s no way of knowing i f the review the following month, of Shepherd's revised e d i t i o n of Lamb's Poetry f o r  Children, was by the same hand; however, the review continues the attack on unscrupulous entrepreneurs who exploit the name of established authors. Where a book i s out of copyright but unlocatable, states the re-viewer, the booksellers would sometimes resort to i n -venting a reproduction f o r themselves. Such, i t i s claimed, was the case with R.H. Shepherd's 1872 e d i t i o n of Lamb's book of children's verse. Three days later, January 15» the Athenaeum printed a lengthy letter by Shepherd repudiating "most distin c t l y and emphatically the insinuation contained in the review." However, the evidence was against him and he gained l i t t l e satisfaction i n replyt Is not Mr. Shepherd somewhat uncer-tain in his use of words? We did not "insinuate"—we stated as a matter of fa c t — t h a t Mr. Pickering's issue of 18?2, owing to "the suppression of a l l mention of, or clue to, the sources of the l i t t l e selection," was an "attempt to pass off as a reprint of the lost book, the selections from Myllus i t contained. Shepherd had been badly burned by the reviews, and at least one publishing house, that of Chatto and Windus, ceased to employ him for editorial work. However despite the severity of the pronouncements against him, and the consequent financial loss, his mortification was not yet complete. Apparently, In I878, he considered that the "pressure of more urgent liter a r y work" had eased suf-f i c i e n t l y for him to put into effect the scheme he had "never ceased to cherish," for towards the end of August, I878, he produced a thin, buff-coloured pamphlet of twenty-four pages, entitled Forgotten Books Worth  Remembering. The subject was Ebenezer Jones' Studies of Sensation and Event which was to be the f i r s t in a series of monographs by the editor. Although Shepherd's f a i t h i n Rossetti's c r i t i c a l judgment i s attested by the advertisement on the book cover, which states that number two i n the series of monographs w i l l figure Charles Wells, he was uncertain enough of the success of the project to seek some re-assurance. The pamphlet was sent out as a f e e l e r to gauge public reaction before he committed himself to the time and e f f o r t required f o r a f u l l length book. The secondary objective of the preliminary pub-l i c a t i o n was to stimulate i n t e r e s t and a possible demand. The monograph opens with an acknowledgement to Rossetti and B e l l Scott (whose names presumably would provide by association some in t e r e s t lacking i n the o r i g i n a l ) , and he goes on to excerpt reviews from the Literary Gazette, the Athenaeum, and, of course, the C r i t i c . Six poems are represented including two~ "When the World Is Burning," and "My wife and c h i l d come close to me"—not contained i n the e a r l i e r work; he also expresses the pious hope that "the day may not be f a r distant when t h i s precious volume may be repub-l i s h e d by some surviving f r i e n d or representative of the poet." Whether or not he, himself, would undertake the proposition obviously depended on the response to his i n i t i a l probe. The response was immediate and encouraging, even though it included an unfortunate personal attack which, i n this instance at least, appeared unwarranted. On 14 September, the Athenaeum reviewed the pamphlet and the reviewer, shielded by the anonymity reviewers commonly enjoyed and familiar with the previous Judgments on Mr. Shepherd's pr o c l i v i t i e s , indulged i n some rather pungent rhetoric which, despite the generally commendatory tone of the remainder of the review, resulted in an action for l i b e l being brought against the Athenaeum. On 16 June 1879, in the case Shepherd v. Francis (the publisher), the court heard extracts from the review of Mrs. Browning's early poetryj and the opening paragraph of the review of Forgotten Books Worth Remembering was quoted i n f u l l . I t readst If a combination of the chiffonier and the resurrection-man could con-stitute a personality of importance in the world of letters, we should have to congratulate Mr. Shepherd upon his position, for he seems to have an uneasy zeal for hunting up things which readers have forgotten, and which authors have dropped by the wayside, or wish they had never produced. To be one's own vampire i s an unenviable lotj to be somebody else's vampire i s a post to which only a tortuous ambition could aspire. But there i s no accounting for tastesi i t i s said that whenever the office of hangman i s vacant competition i s brisk.3 The judge was obviously in sympathy with the sentiment i f not the expression, for in his summation he noted that while the p l a i n t i f f was legally entitled to publish Mrs. Browning's work, "there were some rights i t was bad taste to assert." The Jury found that the defendant, nevertheless, had been over-vigorous i n his protest and, i n view of Mr. Shepherd's consequent loss of employment by Chatto and Windus, awarded him damages of Il5G. The anonymous reviewer of Forgotten Books was William Michael Rossetti, who was not usually given to asperity, a f a c t which had misled B e l l Scott. He wrote on 20 September to Dante Gabriel Rossettit You surprise me by t e l l i n g me the a r t i c l e on Shepherd was by William. I took It to be Watts, perhaps led to do so by the severity of the remarks on that l i t e r a t e u r ' s character.4 The flavour of the a r t i c l e was not c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of William Michael who was a generous and kind person and a temperate and scrupulous c r i t i c . He once wrote, towards the end of his l i f e i I f a l l my old c r i t i q u e s were to be reprinted . . . and i f I were to reread them, I do not believe that I should i n a single instance be compelled to confess to myself, "There I said what I knew to be neither true nor f a i r j a bad personal motive was at the bottom of i t ."5 Despite his assertion that his l i t e r a r y conscience was quite c l e a r , he would doubtless have welcomed the oppor-t u n i t y to rewrite the above notice i n a phlegmatic tone c h a r a c t e r i s t i c of most of his writing. In volume two of his Reminiscences, he r e c a l l s the t r i a l and confesses that, though hi s Intentions were not maliciously motivated, they were i l l - a d v i s e d and he r e f l e c t s rue-f u l l y . Since that date I have not been much i n the way of w r i t i n g or publishing t a r t things about anyone, and I should f e e l that the temptation i s one to be steadfastly resisted.6 William Michael Rossetti was never asked to appear at the t r i a l and his name was never associated p u b l i c l y with the review. What e f f e c t such knowledge would have had on Shepherd i t i s impossible to t e l l -p o s sibly he might have decided not to press on with h i s d e s i g n — f o r i t was to Dante Gabriel Rossetti that he turned for help when a problem occurred In the pre-paration of the book. I f Shepherd had known, too, that the considerable i n t e r e s t which his pamphlet had gener-ated (as indicated by the a r t i c l e s / i n the columns of the Athenaeum and Academy) l a r g e l y r e f l e c t e d the enthu-siasm and personal magnetism of one man, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, he would c e r t a i n l y have reconsidered the project. As i t was, Shepherd discovered that he could count on Rossetti's w i l l i n g cooperation and e d i t o r i a l assistance when the need arose. Writing to Watts-Dunton on 26 February 1879 Rossetti notes» The unhappy Shepherd has been driven to ask me Ebenezer r i d d l e s (as to Ilium [inated] Mag[azine,rj) which you had promised to solve, but i t seems solution came. I have t r i e d to lay his perturbed s p i r i t . 7 William B e l l Scott was a long time friend of Rossetti. He had written to Notes and Queries a week after Rossetti, in 1870, and now after Watts-Dunton's articles appeared in the Athenaeum he went into print again with two long letters to the Academy, on 2 and 16 November. These contained the unpublished letter from Jones already referred to and the previously un-published poem "To Death," which Horace Harral had entrusted to him. B e l l Scott's correspondence also Indicates the interest in Jones that had been set afoot. The topic of Ebenezer Jones recurs in many of his letters during this time; for example, he writes to Rossetti on 12 November I8781 Yes i t i s the Devil to payi The increasing crowd of chattering g i r l s and smart young ready writers who must begin by issuing a small vol [ume] off.poems as i f that was the easiest part of their intended work. But there i s a difference when one knows the author to be no literateur or ready writer, but a quiet, modest, good young soul, who only fancies his l i f e i s a wreck at 22 because of a love a f f a i r f a l l i n g through.8 (PP. Appendix i ) The remainder of the letter concerns the contentious Hood episode and indicates that the difference in their versions of i t had now become a source of personal animosity between Be l l Scott and Watts-Dunton. Rossetti was delighted that B e l l Scott was doing so much to publicize Jones' cause, even i f their evaluation of the poet did not correspond. Writing to Watts-Dunton, he statedt Scotus writes as enclosed. You see he i s r a t t l i n g the bones of Ebenezer pretty briskly. Notice the superlative form of address to myself. No doubt he i s an affec-tionate old Scotus,9 It was Rossetti who, after seeing Shepherd's pamphlet, reviewed by his brother, had written to Sumner and pro-posed that Sumner c a l l upon Watts-Dunton.^-^ During Rossetti's f i n a l years he came more and more to rely on his " l i t t l e s o l i c i t o r . " Watts-Dunton, for his part, was only too willing to sacrifice his own Interests and*volunteer his devoted services to the artist.11 Watts-Dunton was the chief l i t e r a r y c r i t i c of the Athenaeum and, although Rossetti's correspondence shows that the Athenaeum eulogies were exclusively written by the c r i t i c , there i s no doubt that Rossetti inspired their appearance, as he had in the case of Joseph Skipsey's A Book of Miscellaneous L y r i c s , 1 2 even to the extent of approving Watts-Dunton's articles before publication. In a postscript to a letter dated 15 September 1878, and addressed to Watts-Dunton, Rossetti proffered his servicesj I should like to seeswhat you write about Ebenezer, as I might possibly offer a hint or two as to matters of fact. I dare say even your friendly zeal w i l l deem i t unwise to make me foreground figure in connexion with subject after the similar case of Wells. 13 The r e s u l t of so much a c t i v i t y i n the leading journals between September and November 1878, was a new e d i t i o n the following year of Studies of Sensation and Event. No doubt i t made "a f i n e fellow happy," but i t seems to have had l i t t l e other e f f e c t . Pour years l a t e r , i n 1883, the publishers were s t i l l i n possession of a substantial number of c o p i e s . ^ Today, unlike the 1843 e d i t i o n , which i s scarce$< the l a t e r e d i t i o n i s com-par a t i v e l y easy to obtain, Rossetti was an astute c r i t i c , but he was also an a r t i s t and, thus, was capable of appreciating a r t i s t i c merit where i t might be missed by a less d i s -cerning eye. This p a r t l y explains why poets l i k e Charles Wells, Joseph Skipsey, and Ebenezer Jones re-mained l i f e t i m e favourites with him but f a i l e d , despite hi s e f f o r t s , to enjoy public appeal, Thomas E a r l y Welby supports such a view i n The V i c t o r i a n Romantics, where he writes« [DGR's] c r i t i c i s m of poetry was e n t i r e l y a poet's which i s why he estimated more highly than any but a poet w i l l the poetry of Chatterton, of Wells, of Ebenezer Jones, of Hake, recognizing i n immature or frustrate work an energy which had need to produce more d e f i n i t e r e s u l t s f o r recognition by ordinary c r i t i c i s m . •'••5 I t seems more than l i k e l y that the renown which attended the book from September to November I878 w i l l never be surpassed. Except f o r the occasional scholar, already the "book has v i r t u a l l y ceased to e x i s t . Such i s the inevi t a b l e fate of a minor work p a r t i c u l a r l y i f the writer happened to be bom In the nineteenth century when an unprecedented number of people ( i f they were not forming a sonnet c o l l e c t i o n ) were publishing t h e i r single volume of verse. However, one must be c a r e f u l to d i s t i n g u i s h Ebenezer Jones from t h i s "crowd of ready writers" as B e l l Scott l a b e l l e d them, fo r an examination of Jones* work indicates a genuine, though e r r a t i c poetic impulse that at times reaches greatness. Ananalysis of Ebenezer Jones' poetry should properly begin with a consideration of the t i t l e of his single volume, Studies of Sensation and Event. Even the most cursory glance at the contents w i l l Indicate to the reader that the t i t l e was no random choice, f o r the greater part of the verse recreates and examines modes of f e e l i n g ranging from the s t a r k l y sexual to the subtlest nuances of psychological motivation. At the conclusion of "A C r i s i s " he describes his poetic ambi-tions i . . . could poet sound Words that should give the minds of those who heard Knowledge of i t s prompting feelings, he would f l i n g Art to the winds, thought, l i f e , and heaven, f o r g e t , — And though the u t t e r i n g the words should shatter Him to a n n i h i l a t i o n , he would speak, And shatter himself into eternal fame. (p. 124) Frequently, the mere r e c a l l i n g of sensations i n t h e i r former vividness proves an impossible task as "Remembrance Of Feelings" r e l a t e s . A recurring d i f f i c u l t y , too, was the inadequacy of conventional d i c t i o n to describe his perceptions. I t often lacked s u f f i c i e n t v i t a l i t y and force to convey his deeply f e l t passions and so Jones can be seen experimenting with his language r e v i v i n g archaisms, arranging words into new combinations, and where necessary, creating new words themselves. The psychological aspect of feeling also in-terested Jones and in several poems he attempts to trace a sensation to Its source, a pursuit which leads him towards a theory of the Imagination that derives from Hazlitt and Wordsworth. The significance of the theory of the "association of ideas" as Jones applied i t to his work w i l l later be .seen to form (together with aspects of Shelleyan neoplatonism) the basis of his poetic and moral philosophy. A few of the characters whose responses Jones analyzes and details appear direct descendents of the "noble savage." Their response to l i f e i s almost wholly intuitive and when emotionally wounded their only re-lease i s through s e l f - i n f l i c t e d pain as i s the case of the lovers in "Zingalee" and "A Crisis." The assumption that what i s "natural" in man i s his feelings encourages an emphasis on such qualities in art as spontaneity, immediacy and originality. I f what is best and most "natural" in man i s his emotional character, then in art what should be most striven for Is the original and outgoing expression of his feelings. According to the precepts of the School of Sensibility which formed part of Jones* literary inheritance, man's feelings are naturally directed towards the good. Thus, whatever p o l i t i c a l or social conditions thwart their expression become hindrances to progress, which may account for the revolutionary nature of much of Jones' work. But, as has been suggested, the revolutionary aspects of Jones' work are not confined to p o l i t i c a l or social issues. In his selection of subjects and in his treatment of them Jones demonstrates a revolutionary's zeal in his willingness to experiment and innovate. Indeed, the generally poor reception of his book may in large part be attributed to what Rossetti described as •the wilful newness" of his art? on the other hand, the praise of such people as Browning, Dickens, and Rossetti reflects the appreciation of writers for the efforts of another writer to break through to new dimensions of thought and expression. Much of the originality of Jones' verse consists in his attempts to examine and describe sensations with an immediacy of language that would enable the reader to experience vicariously the intensity of the sensation? frequently these sensations were of an extreme nature such as inflamed sexual passion, virulent hatred, i n -sanity, bloody vengefulness, and approaching death. Jones' choice of subjects suggest the measure of his radicalism. A comparison of Wordsworth's "The Idiot Boy" with Jones' "A Development of Idlotcy" Illustrates Jones' break with traditionally sentimental attitudes towards madness In verse and Jones' own efforts to give r e a l i s t i c expression to i t s causes and outward manifestations. Likewise, the physical appearance of death and the sen-sation of dying were also traditionally considered unfit subjects for poetry, and on this account Jones' choice of the theme merits some consideration. Conventionally, the poetic treatment of death took one of two forms. It was customarily either per-sonified or handled eleglacally, usually with a reverance inspired by fear. To Jones, however, death was an integral part of the cosmic unity and no more to be feared or shunned than any other part of man'js experience. In the poems "To A Corpse - Watcher," "A Development Of Idiotcy," and "The Poet's Death," Jones describes in vivid detail the physical characteristics of death. "A Development Of Idiotcy," for example, opens with an account of a death-bed scenet Fearful the chamber's quietj the vell'd windows Admit no breath of the out-door throbbing sunshine, She moans in the bed's dusk,--some sharp revulsion Shuddereth her li p s as though she strives to cry, But finds no voice* she draweth up her limbs, They flutter fast and shake their covering. A gloom seems passing o'er her countenance, As the shadow of a cloud across a f i e l d j Perchance the ghastly expression of the horror With which l i f e endsi i t darken*d but a moment ; Now she turns white as stone, as f i x ' d as dead. (P. 69) The poet goes on with unabashed candour to describe the husband's recognition of the f i n a l i t y of deathi A l l i s s t i l l , He r i s e s from the ground, fast locks the door, Breaks through her couch-clothes, f e e l s about her heart t — A l l there i s motionless! he l i f t s her hand t — There i s nothing but dead form, i t moves not, warms not, I t weighs, i t s l i d e s away, i t drops l i k e lead, Lies where i t dropp'dt (P. 70) Jones was not morbidly obsessed with death; nor was he attracted to the dark beauty of corruption and decay that fascinated his contemporary Baudelaire. I t i s i n t e r e s t i n g , however, to discover i n the poem "Two Sufferers" many of the motifs that recur i n Les Fleurs Du Mai. For example, the llebestodt Image of the worm at the flower's centre which Baudelaire frequently juxtaposes with carnal love i s the ce n t r a l metaphor of Jones' poem. The f i n a l stanza brings together the two images whose union Is seen to have been inevitable from the beginning! From her whitening face Now sta r t s i t s l u s t r e ; closed her quivering l i p s ; F a l l ' h to the ground "by passion, she l i e s paler Than the l i l y at her side! Now, suddenly, Trembled the moonlight from the gardens; s w i f t l y , Clouds swept before the moon? a swift cold wind Came,bending a l l the t r e e s ; — s h e shudder*d dead:— In her dark scatter'd h a i r the wind-snapt l i l y Lay with i t s l i f e l e s s leaves? from i t s bare roots Fierce sneak*d t h e i r worm. (P. 46) For the most part, however, Jones i s concerned to des-cribe death and dying simply as observable phenomena l i k e a l l manifestations of human experience. The subject of "A Development Of Idiotcy" and "To A Corpse-Watcher" i s not death, as such, but i t s observable e f f e c t upon the main character i n each poem. Death i s the event that unleashes the powerful emotions which are Jones* primary i n t e r e s t . The significance of the second part of the t i t l e Studies of Sensation and  Event, then, i s a causative one. Often, as i n these two poems, the incident i s of some importance, but just as frequently the event i s quite t r i v i a l . In "Car l a pensee," which i s central to Jones* poetic creed, a young boy, s t r o l l i n g i n the woods, i s impressed by the s t i l l n e s s and solitude of the place and suddenly r e c a l l s his l o c a l church and the p r i e s t ' s blessing. The im-pression i s so great that he i s f i l l e d with s p i r i t u a l ecstasy. The episode i s t r i f l i n g ; i n f a c t , the poet refers to i t as such but warns against dismissing i t on that accountt Deems any this vision insufficient cause That I should love the hour that gave i t me, Oh* knew he his own human-nature's laws, Much would he yearn to have been given i t to see. He continues to expand this cryptic reference in more detailj The essence of mind's being is the stream of thought; Difference of mind's being i s difference of the stream; Within this single difference may be brought The countless differences that are or seem. Now thoughts associate in the common mind By outside semblance, or from general wont; But in the mind of genius, swift as wind, A l l similarly influencing thoughts confront. Though the things thought , In time and space may l i e Wider than India from the Arctic zone; If they impress one feeling swift they f l y , And in the mind of genius take one throne. This order of mind i s shaken to the core " With mighty joy, while therewithin cohere Its far-brought thoughts; o'er the common mind's dull floor, As of old, i t s thoughts, rejoicing not appear. (p. 180) Clearly Jones is working with the theory of the "association of ideas," according to which the mind is the repository of sense impressions derived from a l l past experiences. What makes the young boy's vision so great an event for Jones i s that he i s enabled to observe at f i r s t hand the working of the imagination which has blended two discrete elements into a single and new entity f i l l i n g the child with rapture. The term '.'mind's being" i s synonymous with feellngj thus different feelings are believed to be the result of a different set of associations. Whereas the common mind is impressed by outward appearances only, the l o f t i e r imagination of genius enables such people as poets to penetrate to the essence of things, to grasp by a process of sympathetic identification the common elements of widely various entities and experience them as an indivisible part of a larger unity. The effect upon such an "order of mind" i s one of spiritual ecstasy, a communion with a higher plane of reality. In several of his poems, also, Jones can be seen working with the "associationlst" theory. "A C r i s i s , " "Early Spring," "Zingalee," "To A Corpse-Watcher," and "Ways of Regard" are experiments in which Jones seeks to discover hidden resemblances in various phenomena and show their workings upon the mind. "The Waits" i s a poem Inspired by a similar desire to examine and com-prehend the nature of sensation and relate i t to the imagination. In addition to i l l u s t r a t i n g t h i s aspect of his work an analysis of the poem should reveal charac-t e r i s t i c s which give much of Jones' poetry i t s d i s t i n c t i v e flavour. The p i v o t a l episode i n "The Waits** i s even more t r i v i a l than i s common i n poems of t h i s kind, which should a l e r t the reader to look elsewhere f o r the significance of the poem. T y p i c a l l y , the cen t r a l action follows a preamble, usually, as i n t h i s case, a natural description which establishes s e t t i n g and atmosphere. The sett i n g , characters, and mood move towards a harmonizing unity which sometimes i s sustained to the poem's conclusion, as i n "Early Spring," but which occasionally i s the prelude to an abrupt change i n tone, as occurs i n "The Waits," Because t h i s poem w i l l be discussed as charac-t e r i s t i c of Jones' s t y l e , "The Waits" i s here quoted i n f u l l l I HAD seen the snow sink s i l e n t l y to the ground 5 And beauteously i t s white rest Quieted a l l things; and the hushing sound Murmuring and sinking everywhere around, Blessed me and was b l e s t . I had seen the moon peep through the dark c l o u d - f l i g h t , Then gradually retreat; And her re-appearing smile of gentlest mi ght, Beneath which a l l the clouds sank calm and bright, Me l u s t r o u s l y did greet. And I had heard the ungovernable sea Earth's quietness loud scorn; I had mark'd afar his raging radiancy, And proudly, i n his pride, had f e l t that he And I were twain god-born. But than the under-uttering hush of snow, Than the moon's queenly reign, Than ocean's pride, more b e a u t i f u l did glow One other beauty, — e v e n now bending low I adore to i t again. For on that night, while Christmas melody plain*d Our lonely house around, Interpreting wild f e e l i n g , else restrain'd From any utterance i n the heart death pain'd» -Suddenly, hushing sound. Came from a lonely chamber's opening door A b e a u t i f u l boy child} His pale face fear'd to dare the darkness more, His white feet hesitated o'er the f l o o r , And many a prayer he smiled. Then tiptoe g l i d i n g through the gallery's gloom, His hands press*d on his heart, Noiselessly enter'd he a distant room, And s t e a l t h i l y i t s mellow*d. moonlight bloom His g l i d i n g limbs did part 5--T i l l o'er a couch a l l bathed i n s l a n t i n g sheen, Where, lapt i n splendour, slept A l i t t l e g i r l her childhood's sleep serene,--His look growing l i k e to her look, he did lean. And a b r i e f moment kept A f f e c t i o n f i x e d , a reposing gaze Upon the sleeping l i g h t , Pleasuring beneath her eyes, and l i k e soft haze, O'er the clueless beauty of her mouth's sweet maze, Glowing mildly bright. When suddenly, with intenser utterance, scream'd The music's wild require} And as suddenly his s t a r t l e d countenance beam'd In vivid pallor, and his wide eyes gleam'd With coming and going f i r e j - -And then he arrested her unclasped hand, He kiss'd her gentle cheek; T i l l sighing, as loth to leave sleep's peaceful land, Her eyes look'd sadly up, and wearily scann'd His face, while he did speak. He whisper'd, "Hark" the music that you fear'd Again we might not hear; Wake! wake! i t Is very passionate, i t has near'd--It mourneth, like the wind o'er the moors career'd— Listen! listen ! Amabel dear." Here! here! that beauty, which than hush of snow, Than the moon's royal reign, Than ocean's pride, more beautiful did glow, He is that beauty; even now bending low, I adore to It again. Sweet peace to me the hushing snow had sent, The moon had given me Joy, The ocean transport; but high thought-content , Begotten of a l l things, measureless, yet unspent, Gave me this gentle boy. For, from the sanctuary of this scene, Through the strange world around, That never knew happiness, that fierce and mean, Now whinlngly grovelleth, with disease unclean, That deepening, owns no bound;--Where love loud rages, seeing throned the wrong That a l l his hope destroys; Where poetry pales, despairing, and for song Raves, t i l l her utterance, erst so sweet and strong, Sinks to mere maniac noise; Where even science hath f a l l ' n , with terrible dread Palsied his strenuous limbs, Dashing the diadem from his angulsh'd head, And howling atheist howlings —was I led; And, l i f t i n g solemn hymns, Nor anger moved me, nor disgust, nor scorn, Nor suffer'd I any feart For when the drear was stormiest, most forlorn, This boy illumined, soft his voice was borne, "Listen, listen, Amabel dear." (pp. 11-15) The opening three stanzas present three aspects of nature which have been selected to suggest a universal harmony that includes the narrator; the sense of natural concord i s reinforced by the texture of the verse. The dying cadence of the opening line combines with i t s gentle sibilancy to convey the sense of f a l l i n g snow; the tranquil mood i s further established by the descending rhythm of each stanza and the restful associations of such words and phrases as "sink silently," "white rest," "quieted," "hushing sound/Murmuring and sinking." The image of the moon peeping through the clouds continues the feeling of nature in repose and i s rescued from banality by the context. The remainder of the stanza i s a further accretion of details that lend a quiet emphasis to the situation. Even the strong image of the sea of the third stanza with "his raging radiancy" i s tempered by subdued assonantal echoes and the muted consonants of "proudly" and "pride." The personification of the snow, the moon, the sea, i s a deliberate device used to suggest a s p i r i t animating a l l of nature. The narrator feels himself a part of the organic unity. He i s "blessed" by the "hushing sound" of the snow? the moon smiles upon him? and his close empathy with the "ungovernable" sea creates in him a feeling of "god-likeness," The f i n a l words, "god-born," reca l l the spiritual overtones of "Blessed me and was blessed" in the f i r s t stanza? they further emphasize the interrelatedness of the man and his surroundings and they prepare the way for the in-timations of divinity which follow. Stanza four Is transitional? i t Introduces the theme of the poem and explains the significance of the opening stanzasi But than the under-uttering hush of snow, Than the moon's queenly reign, Than ocean's pride, more beautiful did glow One other beauty,—even now bending low I adore to i t again. (P. 1 2 ) The poet indicates that each natural phenomenon has been selected as an example of a kind of beauty with which to compare "one other beauty." He has invested concrete phenomena with abstract qualities in order to illuninate another beauty of a superior kind, the beautiful bond of love existing between a boy and his sister; and the f i n a l lines suggest a religious order of grace which seems to be confirmed by the fact that the incident occurred one Christmas. The line, "But than the under-uttering hush of snow," is the f i r s t instance in this poem of Jones' original and bold use of diction. In his attempts to give immediacy to his verse, Jones often wrenched words out of their conventional context to give them added force. Examples that come readily to mind occur In "A C r i s i s , " in which he refers to the "tumultuous armies" of a young man's passions, and the "murderous beauty" of the g i r l that set them raging, JLones frequent use of oxymora such as "rapturous agony," "a storm of Joy," "a maddening stillness," and a "calm carouse," evidences a dissatisfaction with common-place expressions and illustrates his attempt to convey deep emotions in a way that the reader w i l l find meaningful. The inexactitude of conventional diction when used to describe feeling led Jones to resort to synesthetic images as a means of communicating more accurately his sensory perceptions. In "Eyeing the Eyes of One's Mistress," for example, he relates how his mistress's eyes "did appetite" which later in the same poem gives rise to "thine eyes and mine,/Devouring distance i n t o each other grew." In "Zingalee," he speaks of "the voluptuous gloom," and i n "Emily" of a "caressing dream." The following Is a more extended example of the same device which also occurs i n "Emily"t She rose against the l i p p i n g wind, So fondly i t s persistings wrestling, I almost thought she s t i l l design*d S t i l l to endure i t s boisterous n e s t l i n g . (p. 29) Jones' blending of the palpable with the i n -tangible enabled him to give new expression to f e e l i n g and also, as i n t h i s passage from "The Two Sufferers," i t enriched the texture of his work toot Now f l o a t amongst them gentlest sounds, Confusing, f o l d i n g themj with l i q u i d l i g h t O ' e r f i l l l n g t h e i r eyes; and teaching every voice Yet gentler lingering,? wreathing round each p a i r Deliberate'prisoning s t r a i n s , r e s l s t -l e s s l y , Yet fondly binding themj . . . . . . . The merciless music gives no moment's respi t e , Urging a l l action i t sweeps out a l l thought, I t s secret hurrying notes bewilder sense* (P. 40) S i m i l a r l y , the poet i s seeking a p a r t i c u l a r textual e f f e c t when he describes the snow i n "The Waits." The compound "under-uttering" has obviously been chosen not f o r i t s denotative e f f e c t but f o r the resonance and graphic q u a l i t i e s Inherent i n the words themselves. Jones occasionally went too far in his attempt to be original as "The Waits" ill u s t r a t e s . In the passage describing the g i r l and her awakening, i t i s obviously the poet's concern to suggest the seraphic innocence and beauty of the young g i r l . The trans-figuring quality of the aureole-like light which at times emanates from her sleeping person, at times surrounds i t , i s perfectly suggested by the words "sleeping light/Pleasuring beneath her eyes, and like soft haze. . . . " But the next line indicates the dangers inherent in too extreme an originality of thought or phrasing. The word "clueless" obviously relates to "her mouth's sweet maze" but the meaning i s far from clear. There i s a possible suggestion of naivete or unworldliness, but the word i s not apt in this context. Furthermore, i s the "sweet maze" of her mouth meant to suggest a mystery, or perhaps a snare? In that case i t would seemrto be opposed to the idea of "clueless" (quite apart from conflicting with the tone the poet has laboured to create). Here i t seems Jones' "wilful newness" has defeated i t s own object. Instead of immediate communication of a new perception, he has succeeded only in confusing his reader. At times, Jones* bold use of language i s ex-citingly effective? much of the time, however, the attempt f a i l s because the contrasting images are Just too extreme. It i s this capacity to excite and surpris.e together, with the tendency to confuse or make his reader wince, that gives Jones* language i t s char-ac t e r i s t i c a l l y rough texture. An example conveniently occurs in the succeeding stanzat When suddenly, with intenser utterance, scream'd The music's wild require; And as suddenly his startled countenance beam * d In vivid pallor, and his wide eyes gleam'd With coming and going f i r e i — "When suddenly, with Intenser utterance, scream'd/The music's wild require" i s a characteristically nervous combination of discrete images which in another context might have been impressive. Here, however, the abrupt introduction of the note of violence and hysteria associated with "scream'd" appears an unwarrantable Intrusion. If the poet i s seeking to convey a sense of shock at the sudden penetration of the music, then "scream'd" would appear to strike too strident a tone. Of course, there is always the possibility that Jones i s here sounding an anticipatory note to prepare the reader for the vehemence that concludes the poem. It seems unlikely, though, because he leaves the word hanging and makes no attempt later to refer back to i t . But then the i n a b i l i t y to exploit f u l l y the power of his imagination i s a distinguishing feature of Jones' longer poems. As noted earlier, the central event i s quite t r i f l i n g , a nocturnal communication between brother and sister but i t becomes charged with emotional im-portance, the result of a fusing of several elements. The solemn atmosphere In the lonely house? the sound of the waits (carol singers), whose singing magically interprets for the listener his inmost feelings? his empathy with nature, and the bond of love he has witnessed between the two children combine within the mind of the narrator to produce a sensation of re-ligious ecstasy which i s manifested in the young boyj Sweet peace to me the hushing snow had sent, The moon had given me joy, The ocean transport? but high thought-content, Begotten of a l l things, measureless, yet unspent. Gave me this gentle boy. This stanza recalls the earlier and f u l l e r account of the working of the imagination in "Car l a pensee." The mind or "high thought-content," which i s the sum of a l l previous sensations, selects the essential elements of a l l "similarly influencing thoughts" which "cohere" and create a new sensation, in this instance spiritual ecstasy. The poem Is written retrospectively a s t h- e f i n a l few stanzas indicate, and a large portion of the poet's interest in the subject stems from the fact that the experience apparently made such a strong impression upon his mind that i t continues to give him solace now that he has returned to a world characterized by disease, vice and "atheistic howlings." The abrupt change of focus at the conclusion of a poem i s not uncommon in Jones* verse. It i s success-f u l l y employed in "Zingalee," "A Slave*s Triumph," and "A Pagan's Drinking Chaunt," where the shift subtly alters the reader's perception of a l l that has gone before. In "The Waits," however, the break i s too severe. The poet has not prepared his reader for the bitter sentiments and forceful language of the concluding stanzas. Even i f one recalls the Jarring Juxtaposition of violence and music in "When, with intense utterance, scream*d/The music's wild require," i t seems hardly strong enough i n the context to support the sudden out-burst of vehemence. The change of subject results in a change of mood which i s reflected In the texture of the words themselves. The deep tones of "murmuring," "mourneth," "under-uttering"j the extensive use of suggestive modifiers} the mood of calm repose a l l give way before a vigorous impassioned tirade that i s levelled at contemporary society. Jones* sense of outrage is conveyed (as i t always is when he i s venting deep-seated passions) in explosive sounds and hard, heavily stressed words. He resorts to strong, active verbs that connote violence, often yoking them f o r eff e c t with "warring opposites" (as T.S. E l i o t was to recommend nearly a century l a t e r ) i "love loud rages" and poetry, which " f o r song/Raves . , . sinks to mere maniac noise." The words rush and roar as though released from long r e s t r a i n t s , and where the words lead the rhythm has to follow. Much of Jones* poetry r e f l e c t s his powerful feelings and impulsive nature. Many passages i n "Ways of Regard" convey a f i e r c e i n t e n s i t y and barely contained violence, and they are a memorable tour de force; but i n most instances where Jones gives expression to the i n t e n s i t y of h i s emotions, he threatens to shake the f a b r i c of his poem apart, as here, and deserves the epithets of "rough" "jagged" " f o r c e f u l " which past c r i t i c s attached to his poetry, i i Many of the studies of sensation i n Jones' book r e f l e c t his own passionate commitment to l i f e and some of these are c l e a r l y autobiographical—Sumner Jones i n -dicated several that were inspired by p a r t i c u l a r events i n h is brother's l i f e . However, another aspect of the Studies, which has gone unnoticed i n the past, gives unity to the entire volume. Throughout the work Jones can be seen t r y i n g to formulate a moral philosophy that w i l l embody his views on the primacy of the feelings and also be meaningful to contemporary society. The age Jones l i v e d i n was a period of c r i s i s i n which centuries of order and accepted values were suddenly c a l l e d into question. The gradml t r a n s i t i o n from an agrarian to an i n d u s t r i a l society that had begun i n the eighteenth century gained increasing momentum at the beginning of the nineteenth. An improved canal system, macadam roads and the harnessing of steam made possible a rapid expansion of commerce. Fortunes were made at Bradford and Birmingham} and It was only a matter of time before the powerful middle-class received p o l i t i c a l as well as commercial power into t h e i r hands. With the passing of the Reform B i l l of 1832, society governed by commercial p r i n c i p l e s became an established f a c t . The commercial s p i r i t was a l i e n to humanitarian impulses: the new trade p r i n c i p l e of l a l s s e z f a i r e ab-solved the employer from any obligations of welfare, moral or physical, not negotiated and contracted f o r . With p r o f i t and loss the primary considerations, human relationships became sklrklshes i n the b a t t l e on the one side f o r existence, on the other f o r increased wealth. Charitable feelings were f e l t to have no place i n the highly competive world of business. Thomas Carlyle spoke out passionately against the inhumanity r e s u l t i n g from the a c q u i s i t i v e preoccupations of his timet True, i t must be owned, we f o r the present, with our Mammon-Gospel, have come to strange conclusions. We c a l l i t a Society} and go about professing openly the t o t a l l e s t separation, i s o -l a t i o n . Our l i f e i s not a mutual helpfulness? but rather, cloaked under due laws-of-War, named f a i r "competition" and so f o r t h , i t i s a mutual h o s t i l i t y . We have profoundly forgotten every where that Cash-payment i s not the sole r e l a t i o n of human beings; we think, nothing doubting, that i t absolves and liq u i d a t e s a l l engagements of man. "My starving workers?" answers the r i c h Millowner» "Did not I hire them f a i r l y i n the market? Did I not pay them to the l a s t sixpence, the sum covenanted for? What have I to do with them more?"-- V e r i l y Mammon-worship i s a melancholy creed.1 The age desperately needed and demanded dogmatic support from i t s i n t e l l e c t u a l s , yet the deliberate and often c o n f l i c t i n g pronouncements of Southey, Macaulay, M i l l , Arnold, Newman, Carlyle'and Ruskin, often only served to increase the sense of confusion and c r i s i s . I t was a time f o r earnest consideration of a l l aspects of l i f e — o f the state of society and of the nature of man? and writers, p a r t i c u l a r l y , were held accountable to society. The Romantic concept of the poet as prophet and seer took on a new and dramatic significance as people cast about on a l l hands f o r the authoritative voice of demonstrable Truth. In the d i f f i c u l t t r a n s i t i o n a l years when the new was proving so d i f f i c u l t to comprehend as an ordered system, i n -t e l l e c t u a l s saw t h e i r task as that described by Carlyle i n h i s assessment of two books under reviewj Both these Philosophies are of the Dogmatic or Constructive sort, each i n i t s way i s . . . a n endeavour to bri n g the Phenomena of man's Universe once more under some theoretic Scheme . . . they s t r i v e a f t e r a r e s u l t which s h a l l be p o s i t i v e i t h e i r aim Is not to question, but to establish.2 The same earnest ambition l a y behind the cosmic fulminations of the "Spasmodic School." Unhappily, the l o f t y aspirations of "Festus" Bailey, Henglst Horne, Alexander Smith, Sydney Dobell, and J . Westland Marston, were not matched by complementary i n t e l l e c t u a l powers. Energy they exhibited i n superabundance - Bailey's epic Festus eventually ran to 40,000 verses - but they lacked the necessary poetic d i s c i p l i n e f o r epics on such a grand scale. Each of the major works i s characterized by extravagant language tending towards incoherence, and punctuated at frequent i n t e r v a l s by purple patches of extended metaphor, which only served to i n v i t e s a t i r e from l a t e r more perceptive c r i t i c s . 3 The poetry of Ebenezer Jones has been categorized as "Spasmodic" as frequently as i t has been l a b e l l e d "Chartist," but neither l a b e l i s a p a r t i c u l a r l y u s e f u l aid to understanding his poetry. This i s not to deny the existence of elements from both "schools" i n his verse, but to emphasize eithe r Is to lose sight of the c r i t i c a l , s o c i a l atmosphere that prompted much of h i s work. Quite apart from the i n t r i n s i c merits of Jones' poetry as discussed e a r l i e r , h i s work takes on an i n -creased importance as a mirror of the two major features of t h i s time of t r a n s i t i o n —"bourgeois i n d u s t r i a l society and widespread doubt about the nature of man, society and the universe."^ There are p a r t i c u l a r episodes here and there i n Studies of Sensation and Event to which the term "Spasmodic" may be applied, but the poem that i s most c h a r a c t e r i s t i c a l l y "Spasmodic" i s "Egremond." I t was not reprinted i n the 1879 e d i t i o n (see Appendix i ) which Shepherd r e l a t e s , was compiled from two copies of the Studies revised i n the author's hand. I t i s , thus, reasonable to conclude that Jones recognized i t s defects and prepared to discard i t . Confusion runs r i o t i n "Egremond" as the poet t r i e s to elevate his theme to cosmic proportions and s t i l l have relevance f o r his contemporaries. The poem i s a t h i n l y - v e i l e d a l l e g o r y of the poet-priest who i s invested with divine powers with which to combat the e v i l s of his time. The action i s set i n the "proud morn of time" when the " o r i g i n a t i n g Power" had yet to complete "His cycles of creation," Egremond undertakes to a s s i s t the creator i n the completion of his task. The part-formed world is f u l l of "wildly clouded e v i l " which, however, i s capable of regeneration by "competent energies." Egremond dedicates his l i f e to the purpose of human salvation, and the limitations of time and space are transcended by his vaulting intellect. He seeks out "the masked demons, that invoke/Suffering and wrong," but his quest i s interrupted by a vision of man's future deliverance and ultimate redemption, of which he appears the author. Reflections upon the changes he has wrought excite him to a passionate demand that he receive his reward now, "while this frame can quiver/And the hot blood leaps swiftly to my brain." It i s not sufficient for him that his achievement be ultimately recognized for "the dead feel not"j he wants to be acclaimed as a saviour during his lifetime. There appears to be a conflict in Egremond's nature between humanitarian Impulses and egocentric considerations. His redemption of mankind appears inspired by a l t r u i s t i c motives, but his insistence on the glory due him takes on an increasingly pathological aspect. Also, his statement of his own worthiness i s a l i t t l e too self-assured t Thou art so beautiful, moon! that there must be Some present commune between thee . and God! Speak to him for me, t e l l to him my love, His greatness daunts me not, for I am good:--Yea, I am good, f o r I do procreate goodnessj Rapture unspeakable! though yonder skies, Bending down round to me, should f i e r c e l y frown One frown of condemnation, I should stand Unangrily; yea, glad—yea, calm—yea, proud. Power of i n f i n i t e love! I t seems that the v i s i o n has become a c t u a l i t y i n Egremond's mind f o r he goes on to address Godi My soul extends herself i n fearless love, And reverence that i s ecstasy; I f I, In moulding t h i s small i s l e to harmony, Feel blessed—yea, so blessed, that t h i s hour Is worthier than years of common l i f e , — How vast must be thy blessedness, . . . His " l i f e l o n g " work has suddenly become a f a i t accompli and he basks i n the warmth of godly achievement. He considers death as the only f i t t i n g conclusion to a l i f e of creation; when one's purpose i s achieved what else i s l e f t ? Confident that God cannot refuse to reward his success, he leaps into "unsheltered space? and claims . . . by v i r t u e of the peace I make, Some dim, disorganized, s u l l e n star, That I may be to i t i n place of thee, Teaching i t s heart a l l musics. The f i n a l l i n e s r e c a l l the conclusion of "St. Simeon S t y l l t e s " i n which the speaker's h a l l u c i n a t i o n also seems to culminate i n divine assent; His eyes wild ri o t e d ; his brow&upturned P a l l i d l y grand against the vast empyrean, As though he heard, echoing from star to star, The voice of deity cry, "Come up hither." (Appendix i , pp. 1 5 3 - 1 5 5 ) As a study in paranoia, "Egremond" is remarkably successful? unfortunately, the evidence suggests that Jones intended i t as an allegory—as a statement of the poet's capacity to transform society and ennoble the minds of men. The dramatic weakness of the action and the philosophical inconsistencies suggest that i t i s an early poem and as yet, i t appears, he has not succeeded in formulating his philosophy of reform. For, even though Egremond achieves success by virtue of his "competent energies," the means of reclaiming mankind are l e f t significantly vague? however, even at this stage fraternal love i s obviously central to the re-generative process. Some time later, Jones came to recognize the necessity of encouraging an instinctive response to l i f e , but in the early stages of his work this aspect i s restricted to a generalized sense of ubiquitous love. In retrospect, i t seems clear that much of Jones' emphasis on the senses was an intuitive response to the needs of the time. Whether human feelings were neglected in favour of intellectual pursuits, or whether they were rejected as having no place in the competive world of commerce, the result was the same--a diminishing capacity to respond to the needs of others, and the stunting of the individual personality. I t seemed to many imperative that the u t i l i t a r i a n s p i r i t should be counterbalanced by a more vigorous assertion of the importance of f e e l i n g s . In addition to the im-portant curative e f f e c t upon the mind, as John Stuart M i l l discovered, c u l t i v a t i o n of the senses could lead to an appreciation of true and l a s t i n g beautyj What made Wordsworth's poems a medicine f o r my state of mind, was that they expressed, not mere outward beauty, but states of f e e l i n g , and of thought coloured by f e e l i n g , under the excite-ment of beauty. . . . In them I seemed to draw from a source of Inward joy, of sympathetic and imaginative pleasure, which could be shared In by a l l human beings; which had no connexion with struggle or imperfection, but would be made r i c h e r by every Improvement i n the physical or s o c i a l condition or mankind. From them I seemed to learn what would be the perennial sources of happiness, when a l l the greater e v i l s of l i f e s h a l l have been removed.5 M i l l ' s autobiographical account summarizes p e r f e c t l y the ef f e c t of poetry on the i n d i v i d u a l and the broader s o c i a l ramifications that Jones conceived as his own poetic purpose, and which he f u l l y a r t i c u l a t e s In "Car l a pensee." The poet's own i n t e l l e c t u a l struggle to evolve a workable poetic philosophy i s recorded i n the "Ode to Thought" and "The Naked Thinker." The "Ode to Thought" declares the influence of Shelley, as much i n the l y r i c a l expression of prophetic idealism, as i n the transcendent view of r e a l i t y . The l o f t y mood of exaltation, the ethereal q u a l i t y of the language, and the suggestion of abstract natural beauty show c l e a r l y the primary i n f l u -ence upon Jones' early verse. Conclusive proof may be obtained by a comparison of the opening stanzas of Shelley's "Hymn To I n t e l l e c t u a l Beauty" with the opening stanza of "Ode To Thought" which readst Whether you make f u t u r i t y your home, S p i r i t s of thought! Or past eternity? —come to me, come! For you have long been soughti I've look"d to meet you i n the morning's dawn, Often, i n vain? I' ve fbllow'd to her haunts the wild young fawn? Through sunshine, and through r a i n , I have waited long and fondly? surely you w i l l come, F a m i l i a r l y as doves returning to t h e i r home. (P. 58) As i n the "Hymn," "Ode To Thought" r e f l e c t s a concern, not s o l e l y with the poet's e f f o r t s to pierce the v e i l and illuminate h i s own soul, but also to reach the minds of others and found "Countries whose law i s love, whose custom, l i b e r t y ! " Through the power of thought, the poet apprehends the s p i r i t of the universe which i s manifested i n natural phenomenal There i s a noise within 1 t h i s t r a n q u i l heaven! This ocean has a voice! Through these t a l l trees a mighty tone i s driven, That bids me to re j o i c e . (p. 60) Blessed with a revelation of transcendent r e a l i t y , the poet seeks to quicken men's s e n s i b i l i t i e s which, with the attendent broadening of human sympathies, w i l l lead to a more meaningful, more moral l i f e . The poem con-cludes with an earnest plea f o r s u f f i c i e n t power to share his v i s i o n with others. F i l l me with strength to bear, and power to t e l l The wonders gathering round, that man may love me well. (P. 6 1 ) The s o c i a l and e t h i c a l aspects of Platonic idealism, also attributable to Shelleyan influence, are given greater emphasis i n another poem which records the poet's s t r i v i n g towards a meaningful l i f e . "The Naked Thinker," as the t i t l e suggests, further emphasizes the I n t e l l e c t u a l nature of the poet's dilemma. Before he can reach the hearts and minds of others, he must f i r s t increase his own powers of perception; he must learn to di s t i n g u i s h between the sham and the r e a l . The poem i s an a l l e g o r i c a l i n t e r p r e t a t i o n of the theme of appearance and r e a l i t y with an unmistakeable message f o r the times. Lord Apswern (inspired by the Duke of Wellington) symbolizes worldly success, as a m i l i t a r y leader whose glory and fame had been given the seal of approval by a grateful country, he stood to an admiring populace as an example of a f u l l y r e a l i z e d and praiseworthy l i f e . I t was not u n t i l he reached his deathbed that Lord Apswern r e a l i z e d that he had pursued spurious Ideals that, l i k e the masses who honor his name, he had been deluded by external forms» ["] l leave a v e i l e d world, Wherein, by unsuspected rule, I thought no v e i l s were f u r l ' d ; I sink within the senseless tomb,— The shapes I seem to leave Now shake t h e i r masks, and midst the gloom Some r e a l glimpses give. "Duped, unsuspecting, from my b i r t h T i l l now, my l i f e has been; And yet I flaunted o'er the earth, As I a l l truths had seen; I thought I fought f o r man, — I know 'Twas for the thing man seem'd; I thought to man my love did f l o w , — I t flow'd to dreams I dream'd (PP. 6-7) In order that the truths he himself has d i s -covered too l a t e may not perish with him, Lord Apswern stipulates that his heir (to q u a l i f y for the inheritance) must spend a tenth of each day Isolated and naked i n a room s p e c i a l l y b u i l t for contemplation. Reluctantly complying with the terms of the w i l l , the h e i r begins to perceive glimmerings of truth and as the v e i l s slowly peel away he v o l u n t a r i l y pursues the old man's w i l l . While his fellows outside are motivated by vain pursuits and s e l f i s h pleasures, the h e i r wrestles alone "to rend l i f e ' s seemings and/Drag out the things that are." The general masses are seen to be deluded by appearances and obsessed with circumstances. They j o i n a ceaseless round of careless pleasures and are beguiled and d i s t r a c t e d by "beauteous garments" and l i k e t r i v i a l Though thus through Kensington they glide, While bright t h e i r l i g h t smiles play, No thoughts to s t r i v e with, or deride, And happiness a l l t h e i r way. (P. 9) The new Lord Apswern has alienated himself f o r ever from the shallow, unthinking l i f e that he l i v e d formerly. Henceforth his purpose, l i k e the poet's i n "Ode to Thought," w i l l be "To make men keenlier see." The conclusion ends on a r i s i n g tone which suggests the magnitude of the self-imposed task that may never be f u l l y complete but which once begun, heaps scorn on the s u p e r f i c i a l and ends forever the casual, thoughtless attitude towards l i f e . Whereas "Egremond," "Ode to Thought," and "The Naked Thinker" pay tr i b u t e to the earnestness of the poet's ambitions, and introduce a neo-platonlc i d e a l i -zation of r e a l i t y derived from Shelley, such poems as "Early Spring" and "High Summer" are c l e a r l y evolved from Wordsworth's pantheism. However, the exploration of sensations i n these poems appears to owe less to Wordsworth than to Keats. In his reply to the o r i g i n a l Notes And Queries request, Rossetti referred to Jones' e f f o r t s to portray a common ground between human sensa-t i o n and Nature. He wrote of the poems: . . .They struck me greatly, though I was not b l i n d to t h e i r g l a r i n g defects and even to the ludicrous side of t h e i r w i l f u l "newness"; attempting, as they do, to deal r e c k l e s s l y with those almost inaccessible combina-tions i n nature and f e e l i n g which only Intense and off-renewed e f f o r t may perhaps at l a s t approach.6 Wordsworth i s perhaps the poet who most nearly approached the eff e c t referred to. Although there are many such, an example of the combination of f e e l i n g and Nature i s "Nutting." In "Nutting" the poet gives v i v i d expression to his sense of a l i v i n g s p i r i t animating the natural phenomena about him. The reader i s impressed by the close bond between man and nature so that, when Wordsworth describes the assault upon the hazel bough, i t i s as though a sentient being has been v i o l a t e d . Several of Jones' poems attempt a s i m i l a r com-munication of f e e l i n g between man and nature, most notably "Early Spring," " I n a c t i v i t y , " and "High Summer," of which Rossetti himself thought quite highly.7 The opening stanzas of "The Waits," as already noted, also seek to esta b l i s h the same sort of close i d e n t i f i c a t i o n between man and his surroundings. But i t v i s important to keep i n mind that sensory communication with nature i s only one facet, a l b e i t an e s s e n t i a l one, i n Jiones' evolving theory of existence. In "Early Spring," the poet describes his f i r s t perception of a s p i r i t that infused a l l natural pheno-mena, and to which he became attuned by suspending his r a t i o n a l energies. Walking through woods, as yet bare of f o l i a g e , he senses an i n v i s i b l e force that, despite the feelings of t r a n q u i l i t y i t evoked, was so over-powering that he at f i r s t r e s i s t e d , "Vex'd to be made the slave/Of influence I could not see,/Or appropriate, or outbrave." Soon, however, the emanation becomes so i n s i s t e n t that he submits to the urge to l i e down and passively contemplate the strange phenomenon. Lying beneath an elm and looking up at the l a t t i c e work of bare branches laced above h i s head, he f e e l s the v i b r a -tions increase u n t i l he becomes one with his surroundings. Suddenly, he r e a l i z e s that he has tapped the l i f e - f l o w of Nature; the tree and i t s branches are burgeoning with a strange v i t a l i t y that communicates i t s e l f to him. The elm and the other surrounding trees seem poised, waiting. I t i s the pause prefatory to the Spring surge into a n i -mated leaf that i s conveyed to the poetj "Hence cometh my re s t , I cried"t And I saw the deep repose— Not a t o r p i d sleep, but a l i v i n g r e s t — In t h e i r soft and nervelike boughs, Spread betwixt me and that azure heaven, Whose lu s t r e such v i s i o n allows. (P. 65) In "High Summer" one of the two sonnets i n the volume— the other i s "Opinion's Change"—there i s no suggestion that the i n t e l l e c t must f i r s t be s t i l l e d before the senses can be enjoyed} nor i s there any intimation of a universal s p i r i t to be approached via the senses. The sonnet i s a glorious, i f occasionally rough, hymn in praise of sensuality. The poet climbs up and away from a l l traces of c i v i l i z a t i o n , the hedges "studiously fretted trim"; and, perfectly isolated, sheds his clothes, the last symbolic link with society. Returned to the elements, the poet celebrates the r i t u a l f i r e -worship of the sun and relinquishes his hold on con-sciousness. His mind i n a trance, his body no longer his own,the poet gives himself over entirely to sensual pleasure. The sonnet i s not one of Jones' most finished poems; nevertheless, the totally abandoned enjoyment of bodily sensation i s perfectly and agreeably communicated. The concept of harmonizing with Nature by sub-merging one's individuality in the general flux i s given more complete expression in the opening stanzas of "Inactivity." Here the poet deliberately shuts out the external world and induces a mood of lethargy and pas-si v i t y in order to respond more readily to the s p i r i t of his natural surroundings. Soon he i s transported from a state of empathic. communication into a trance-like condition. Raising in sympathy to the tranquil heaven My tranquil thought; like a great eye i t shone, It seemed to bend in love; I gazed and gazed; Its look sank nearer me; I gasp'd and f e l l , Panting to be embraced up by the heaven, As virgin womanhood for love's caress; My soul close clung to that far-stretching glory, •Neath which I reel'd; i t stretch'd there undistiirb'd By tower or boundary, and my tranced s p i r i t Passively drank in i t s elysian calm, (P. 8 8 ) Entranced by the unseen power that surrounds him, the poet achieves complete oneness; he achieves total renunciation of the self and becomes a "slave to the sky," u n t i l he Is awakened Into consciousness by a con-volvulus which has fallen on to his face. He examines i t and notices a ladybird. As he focuses upon the insect, his awareness spreads to include other natural objects which he describes in careful detail. His heart l i f t s as he contemplates the beautiful objects before him and he delights to feel an integral part of the "one soft utterance" being sung on the"Eternal Breeze." However, the mood of sensuous delight passes and i s replaced by a melancholy in which The unity in the boundlessness of l i f e Gave me no t h r i l l . (p. 90) He muses upon the change and an incident with the village cur suggests to him the reason that man, capable of shaping his own destiny, can never be long satisfied to play a passive role, to be a "slave of any heaven or earth." He seems to intimate the inherent nobleness of man, who alone on earth possesses the God-l i k e capacity to shape his own destiny and who, therefore, can never be content to accept a passive existence. The ending, however, undermines t h i s apotheosis of man. He i s seen as b a s i c a l l y insecure, as requiring the reassur-ance of a f f e c t i v e actions. The hermit Must have his redbreast to supply with crumbs; The dungeon'd captive makes himself of spiders Things to protect and feed} the e v i l man, To expend his passion to influence, w i l l torture; The good man blesses at the same impulsion;— But to influence both require. (p. 91) In " I n a c t i v i t y " Jones rejected the idea of passive indulgence of the senses. He recognized that by c u l t i v a t i n g the senses he could increase his s e l f per-ception, could add a new dimension to his l i f e ; but he saw also that exclusive sensual g r a t i f i c a t i o n , l i k e the over emphasis of the i n t e l l e c t , i s an impediment to man's s e l f - f u l f i l l m e n t , that i t arrests the development of the i n d i v i d u a l who mistakes the means.for the end. "In-a c t i v i t y " tbhus has a central place i n Jones* poetic philosophy f o r here he can be seen exploring and ex-p l o i t i n g the i n t u i t i v e f a c u l t i e s to the f u l l and coming to the r e a l i z a t i o n that an u n c r i t i c a l indulgence l i m i t s self-awareness and prevents s o c i a l Integration. As indicated previously, the complexities of his "theoretic scheme" are f i n a l l y resolved i n "Car l a pensee," i n which Jones combines elements of Wordsworthian pantheism and Shelleyan neo-platonism i n a moral philosophy with which he hoped to counter the i n s e n s i b i l i t y of the age. The structure of "Car l a pensee" has been b r i e f l y dealt with e a r l i e r In the chapter along with the "assocdatichist. theory" which the poem i s meant to i l l u s -t r a t e . I t w i l l be s u f f i c i e n t then, to note here that Jones uses the poem to state h i s own b e l i e f i n a u n i f y i n g essence that i s elemental to a l l things. The capacity of the poet to perceive the i n t e r r e l a t e d ideals beyond the material form, Jones suggests, i s what distinguishes poets from other mem This boy, then, s u f f e r i n g i n the cedar-grove , A l l rapturously, the u n i t i n g i n his mind Of these far-parted thoughts—the boughs above, And the p r i e s t ' s b l e s s i n g o'er his head d e c l i n e d — I s , In embryo beauteousness, one of that band, Who, t e l l i n g the sameness of f a r -parted things, Plants through the universe, with magician hand, A clue which makes us following universe-kings. One of the seers and prophets who bid men pause In t h e i r b l i n d rushing, and awake to know Fraternal essences and beauteous laws In many a thing from which i n scorn they go. Yea, at his glance, sin's palaces may-f a l l , Men r i s e , and a l l t h e i r demon gods disown; For knowledge of hidden resemblances i s a l l Needed to l i n k mankind i n happiness round Love's throne. (p. 181) Because of his unique v i s i o n , i t i s the poet's r e s p o n s i b i l i t y to lead his fellow men away from the l i f e -denying aspects of material existence and to share with them the knowledge of a transcendent order of the eter-na l . I t i s the poet's i d e a l to awaken i n mankind an awareness of beauty i n everyday things and, thence, to di r e c t his v i s i o n beyond the v e i l towards a perception of the true, the perfect, the unity of existence. By deepening man's understanding, by widening his v i s i o n , the poet trusted that eventually man's nobler nature would assert i t s e l f and extend i t s e l f i n a sympathetic recognition of "Fraternal essences." The role of the poet i s c r i t i c a l — h e can no longer make an absolute commitment to art alone, he has a s o c i a l r e s p o n s i b i l i t y . Once the poet has succeeded through the medium of his art In broadening men's sympathies, i t i s hoped that love w i l l prove the catalyst f o r u n i t i n g mankind i n universal harmony. The view of love as a panacea f o r s o c i a l i l l s i s fundamental to romantic optimism; and i t i s the cornerstone of Jones' metaphysical construct. He can be seen working with the idea i n the paired poems "A fPlea .for Love of the Individual," and "Plea "for Love of the Universal." The f i r s t poem ostensibly takes issue with a woman who raises a series of objections to the giving of one's heart. The poet deals with each issue i n turn attempting to prove that not only does love enrich one's l i f e , It a l s o imparts the strength to r i s e above disappointment and Inconstancy so that no matter what the outcome the rewards always outweigh the d i s s a t i s f a c t i o n s . The poem i s not a good one and i t merits notice only because of the pertinence of i t s theme to the d i s -cussion. "Plea for Love of the Universal" i s superior, even though there i s considerable overlapping i n the treatment of the effects of love on the i n d i v i d u a l . However, Jones' conception of the l i b e r a t i n g e f f ects of love on the soul are c l e a r l y a r t i c u l a t e d and he gives a more complete account of the unifying aspects of lovej Love magnifies existence} love the w orld,— The soul s h a l l grow world-great i n Its sensation; And 'neath the blaze of i n f i n i t e l i f e unfurl'd, Pant with the passion of a whole creation. Oh love then! love! To shut love out, he suggests, i s to s h r i v e l one's soul. For thine own heart's sake, love: the unloving mind, Unemanating l i g h t , no l i g h t receiveth; Tomb of i t s e l f , unable rest to f i n d , Buried alive, i t low and wildly grieveth. 0 love then! love! (p. 149) The poem concludes with a last exhortation to love hut the effect is somewhat weakened by an inconsistency. The line before the f i n a l refrain reads "[Love] Dwelleth most in him who most of happiness galneth," when the tone and theme of the poem suggest that the reverse would be more to the point. As one might expect, considering i t s preeminence in Jones' moral philosophy and platform for reform, love and i t s attendent sensations i s the subject of the majority of poems involving his study of emotion. The a l t r u i s t i c effects of love in the abstract inform much of Jones' canon, but the more personal and more physical aspects are also expressed in f u l l . Just prior to the publication of his volume, Jones had a love a f f a i r which ended unhappily, and several of the love poems seem to owe their origin to this a f f a i r . "A Prayer to a Fickle Mistress" and "The Face" are concerned with unrequited love, but from d i f -ferent viewpoints, and "A Happy Sadness" and "Repose in Love" illust r a t e the completeness of being that can result from perfectly realized love. Again each casts a different light on the subject. And, once more, this time with his subject the bereaved lover, Jones shifts his focus i n each of the three poems "The Mourner's I s l e , " "To a Corpse-Watcher," and "A Development of Idiotcy." " ' Doubtless Jones' experience i n love furnished much of the content of the love poems. One could read much into the sexuality of "Emily," "ZIngalee," and "Whimper of Awakening Passion," but to do those works ju s t i c e they should be viewed i n r e l a t i o n to the other love poems as an attempt to capture the essence of love by exposing i t s myriad faces and moods. The importance of c u l t i v a t i n g the senses to counter the r i s i n g t i d e of obduracy has been noted previously and the var i a t i o n s under one heading, i n d i -cated by the t i t l e s of the above poems, i l l u s t r a t e Jones' concern to examine as f u l l y as possible the nature of emotion and sensation. He seemed to i n t u i t , i n the days long before psychology became a science, that the only means of approaching psychological r e a l i t y was to examine the d i f f e r e n t components from as many perspec-t i v e s as possible and thus assemble an acceptable com-posite. That Jones was a student of human behaviour may be deduced from such poems as "A Development of Idiotcy," "A Slave's Triumph," and "Ways of Regard" which demon-strate unusual insights into p e r s o n a l i t i e s under stress. Jones was seemingly as sensitive to the motivations of the actions of others as he was analytic of the shifts in his own feelings. By holding up the mirror to society Jones hoped to generate change? by evoking sen-sations he hoped to sharpen men's sensibilities and in-crease their sensitivity. The subject of love, naturally, is one that commanded a great deal of his attention. In "Repose in Love" the poet describes a paradlsal state to which the lover i s able to retreat from earthly reality. He has been fortunate and gone on to attain the ideal. The love described in this poem approaches the Platonic concept of the ideal, and at the conclusion there i s a suggestion of removal to a spiritualsplane. The poem describes a progression from the worldly to the Ideal which i s not found in any of the other poems. In stanza one, love i s described as the place "where truth so calmly glows," but the lover recalls that originally love was simply a retreat from "a world where a l l ' s deceit." The moral influence of love i s notedj In former times beside thee glowing, I've seen a l l l i f e grow bright? Kindness o'er hardest faces flowing, O'er falsehood new truth-lighti (P. 99) Although i t i s not clear whether i t i s the lover who has undergone the transformation or the others in society, i t appears that i t i s the lover's vision of the world which changed, thereby ennobling him. Thus transformed, he i s capable of achieving the etherial realms of the highest order—he transcends earthly r e a l i t y and consummates his love i n a s p i r i t u a l plane: But now I know Joy deeper f a r Attends our love's career; I t now no more v e i l s l i f e ' s v i l e war, But l i f t s me past l i f e ' s sphere; And no joy may with t h i s compare,— I see l i f e f s bare design, Yet know no fear, no pain, no care, Because I f e e l me thine. (p. 100) Such absolute b l i s s was not e a s i l y attained, as "The Face" and "A Prayer to a F i c k l e Mistress" suggest. Each of these poems concern the theme of unrequited love. The former has a contemporary s e t t i n g and adopts the persona of a maid who f a i l e d to trust her i n s t i n c t s and allowed herself to be turned by others against her love. The poem i n c l i n e s momentarily towards s e n t i -mental melodrama as the maid learns that her former lover's a f f e c t i o n s remained unchanged at his death. But there i s nothing sentimental about the conclusion as the woman faces the b r u t a l l y cold fact that she i s respon-s i b l e f o r the b l i g h t that has suddenly descended upon her l i f e : Although my scorn that face did maim, Even when i t s love would not depart, Although my laughter smote i t s shame, And drave i t swording through his heart, Although i t s death-gloom grasps my brain With crushing unrefused d e s p a i r ; — That I may dream that face again God s t i l l must f i n d alone my prayer. (P. 135) The reader frequently senses throughout Jones' verse that his emotional commitment to l i f e was absolute. Much that i s defective i n his work seems the r e s u l t of unconstrained passion; "A Prayer t o a F i c k l e Mistress" suffers i n t h i s fashion from a lack of a r t i s t i c d i s -tancing. The reader i s embarassed by the nakedness of his emotion and the fact that he p a r t i c i p a t e s i n the lover's g r o v e l l i n g self-abasement, as he seeks release from the torments of frustrated desire, only increases his discomfiture. One aspect of the lover's obsession should however be noted, and that i s the resemblance between extreme passion and insanity. The same idea occurs In others of Jones' poems and w i l l be discussed l a t e r . I t would be inconceivable, i n a study of the various facets of love, not to include the sexual aspect and Jones, more resolute than most of his contem-poraries, Invited the c r i t i c s ' contumely, as noted e a r l i e r , with t h i s passage from "Zingalee"i And he stagger'd towards the room, And there, i n voluptuous gloom, Her breasts a l l naked and heaving, Lay his bride; And her beside One l i k e a man, around him cleaving Her quivering limbs, while s t i l l she moan'd grieving "I cannot even die from thee parted." The r i v e r of his l i f e stood s t i l l , Rose at i t s woe And gazed with t e r r i b l e w i l l The abysm below:— (p. 24) Although the incident i s carefully worked into the fabric of the poem and makes the husband's conse-quent insanity psychologically plausible, "Zingalee" was deemed to typify the poet's "gratuitous voluptuousness." Even more than most quotations, the above passage suffers from being wrenched from i t s context. The incident i s central to the action in i t s traumatic effect upon the cuckolded husband, but, given the austere propriety shaped by puritan ideals, one can imagine that>many Victorian readers would consider such an outburst indecorous i f not, inffact, obscene. But Jones i s not to be v i l i f i e d merely because, in refusing to compromise his attitude toward reality he outraged the guardians of contemporary morality. Time has vin-dicated his stance, for a modern reader would not find the above passage morally reprehensible. "Whimper of Awakening Passion," which contains none of the mawkish sentimentality suggested by the t i t l e was one of the poems noticed by the Literary Gazette c r i t i c . After describing "Emily" as the worst type of "nonesense-verse trash we ever read," he went on to label the f i n a l stanza of "Whimper of Awakening Passion" as "indecent"; whereas, in fact, the note of ambiguity which closes the poem is a f i t t i n g l y well-turned con-clusion to a finely wrought lyrict Your hands made a tent o'er mine eyes, As low in your lap I was lain , Perhaps half from yourself to disguise The prayer that they could not restrain.* You sang, and your voice through me waved Such rapture, I heard myself say, "Oh here i s the heaven I have craved, Never hence w i l l I wander astray." As I lay in your lap your limbs gave Such beautiful smobth rest to me, I told you that thus to be slave I would never consent to be free. But now mine eyes under their tent Think such distance from yours, love, i s wrongi And my mouth wants your mouth to be sent Down to him^ a l l undrest, love, of song. Oh I fear i f your beautiful limbs S t i l l to have me their slave feel inclined, You must either prevent a l l these whims, Or a way, love, to humour them find. (pp. 136-7) Here, the poet succeeds in capturing the moment when the lover's passive contentment gives way to the i r r e s i s t i b l e urges of sexual instincts. The f i n a l stanza neatly sustains the climax by presenting the reader with an open-ended statement that may be inter-preted as either a demand for the satisfaction of the lover's awakened desires, or else, merely the tolerant *R.H. Shepherd notes that the "opening stanza runs thus in the original edition"! Your hands were a tent for mine eyes, As low in your lap I was lain; And I thought as I gazed at my skies I w i l l never know other again. acceptance of hi s caprice. To complete the various aspects of love, the poet considers the p l i g h t of the bereaved lover and once again he explores theemotion, i n t h i s case g r i e f , as comprehensively as possible. "TheMourner's I s l e " i s a mood poem suggestive of Keats. The atmosphere of melan-choly begins immediately with the opening lines* The endless rains that gently f a l l In Carisbrook Castle Island, dear, Can soften the mourner's heart, and c a l l From his burning brain the loosening tear; (P. 92) The stanza explains the reason f o r the retreat to the "wizard i s l e , " there the mourner can indulge her g r i e f to the f u l l , f o r the natural s e t t i n g imparts a sense of sadness which has the eff e c t of drawing out g r i e f . As has already been noted, Jones experimented with states of f e e l i n g r e f l e c t e d i n nature. In "The Mourner's I s l e , " he succeeds i n conveying a sense of languid dejection by such natural images as " g l i d i n g streams," "pensive" herds, "low" winds, and "each tree seems a p a l l . " Further, the enchanted islan d has the capacity to attune to the mourner's state of mind and thus prolong the f e e l i n g u n t i l the s p i r i t has been purged and made whole. Bereavement becomes, i n "To a Corpse Watcher," not an excuse to wallow i n morbid s e l f - p i t y , but the source of d i s a f f e c t i o n and al i e n a t i o n . In many poems, Jones shares Tennyson's view that " i t i s better to have loved and lost . . ."» here he suggests that a total commitment to love involves a degree of estrangement from the rest of humanity which may under some circum-stances prove disastrous. The poem opens with the bereaved lover grieving by the side of his beloved's corpse and being addressed by a narrator who anticipates and directs the mourner's actions. One of the strange features of the poem i s the note of bitter cynicism adopted by the speaker} another is the Gothic preoccupation with the macabre: "Turn thee! turn thee! s i t by i t s bed}/With i t s hand in thy hand, learn the feel of the dead." The lover i s coun-selled to confront the corpse and accept the reality of death in order to free himself from the shackles of the past: Thou wilt weep; and when wept a l l thy greatness away, Thou shalt start from the corpse, and its grave-clothes array, And look with no love, but with horror, to i t s face, And say that a cold smell doth steam round i t s place, The cold smell of corruption} . . . ( P . 105) The mourner w i l l seek to affirm l i f e anew, joins"the quick busy world" and comfort himself with the thought that his own death is far away} but he w i l l learn that his experience of death w i l l prevent his return to l i f e : But earth hath no home for thee!—far as thou strayest, Thy heart shall s t i l l sneer at a l l love that thou sayest. At a l l love that i s said; for thou shalt believe ever Love to be a false friend, even Death's frown can sever; And thus homeless, and hopeless of home, shalt thou mourn, With bitter life-hate and gnawing self-scorn, The time when thou thought'st that love could not f a i l so, The time when such thought from thy damn'd heart did go, That time when above thy slain love there did flow Thy tears of self sorrow. (pp. 105-6) The penalty for Investing a l l of one's dreams in anklllusion i s self-destruction. The bereaved lover becomes doomed to a death in l i f e for believing in the immortality of love. The only escape for the alienated soul l i e s in Insanity which, Jones frequently suggests, is never far from the deeper passions. It i s s i g n i f i -cant that the studies of insanity a l l involve lovers. The undertones of madness in "A Prayer to a Fickle Mistress" and "To a Corpse-Watcher" are r e a l i s t i c a l l y developed in "Zingalee" and "A Development of Idiotcy." These lovers' are kindred s p i r i t s to the characters created by Emily Bronte; they feel passionately and unreservedly, and their passion, which f i l l s ever fibre of their being, w i l l admit no other emotion. Confronted by death or i n f i d e l i t y (which have the same meaning for the t o t a l l y committed l o v e r ) , the mind proves unable to absorb so powerful and p a i n f u l a sensation and retreats from the r e a l i t y of the event. Madness i s the l a s t refuge of the poet/lover i n "A Development of Idiotcy." From his youth, he had been f i l l e d with "bright v i s i o n s " of "moral loveliness" which he "sang . . . to the world, and bade i t worship." But the world v i o l e n t l y rejected his ideals and sadly he took his leave of mankind. Yet, he possessed such great g i f t s of poetic perception that he f e l t he must communi-cate even i f only to one sympathetic soul. When he f e l l i n love his a r t i s t i c as well as his emotional needs were f u l f i l l e d : Then, no more Lamented he the wingless minds of men, Than pines the swan, who down the midnight r i v e r Moves on considering the r e f l e c t e d stars, Because dark r e p t i l e s burrowing i n the ooze Care not f o r s t a r r y g l o r i e s . (p. 7 2 ) The death of his loved one thus resulted i n a two-fold loss f o r him. The fact that she was the essence of his being needs emphasizing. She was the sole j u s t i f i c a t i o n for his existence and thus car r i e d within her the seeds of h i s Insanity. There i s an intimation that the be-reaved lover's mind i s becoming unhinged when the urge towards se l f - d e s t r u c t i o n i s manifested i n his cursing of God from a high mountain. While his mind i s thus overwrought, the imagined pressure of the corpse's fingers on his own i s s u f f i c i e n t to t i p the balance. The poem i s very uneven i n q u a l i t y , but the motivation and the onset of madness are creditably and dramatically portrayed. The conclusion i s p a r t i c u l a r l y fine In i t s restrained, precise description of the manifestation of madnessj This singer of the b e a u t i f u l , who retreated Back from a scowling world; t h i s f o r c e - f i l l ' d man, Who f i n d i n g nothing whereunto he might sing, Of power unutter'd, and of passion unshared, Nigh died; t h i s gentle minister of love, Who, h a i l ' d by l o v i n g sympathy, thr i c e l i v e d In singing h i s d e i t i e s , and seeing them loved, And loving t h e i r lover, and f o r -getting a l l e l s e ; — Is now a thing that hideth most f a i r weathers, Outwandering i n most glooms,—after whose path The v i l l a g e boys shout " i d i o t , " that some sport His face may make them, when i t turns enraged With i d i o t rage, that s l i n k s to empty smiles, And tears, and laughter, empty. His chief habit Is s e c r e t l y rending piecemeal beauteous f l o w e r s ; — E&. ever shows when the groaning thunder , ' t o i l s , And when the lightnings f l a s h ! and they who meet His shrinking, shuddering, blank countenance, Wonder to heaven with somewhat shaken t r u s t . (P. 74) Perhaps the f i n e s t psychological. study i n the entire book w i l l also serve to introduce a body of poems aimed at s t i r r i n g the s o c i a l conscience. "A Slave's Triumph" i s a masterly presentation of the corrupting Influence of absolute power. From the opening cry of "Death to the A r i s t o -crats!" the poem resounds with the b i t t e r rage of an incensed revolutionary as he savours his revenge. The mob-leader has at his mercy his former Lord, and he r e l i s h e s the moment that has delivered his superiors into his power. He i s b i t t e r , f u l l of hate, but above a l l , he r e c a l l s the shame and humiliation he was forced to enduret Where Is your scorn! where i s the insolent eye, Narrowing i t s l i d s to look at mej where, where The averted face that seem'd wrench'd awry, Sick at my presence, that ye yet did bear, Even to enslave me! seem thus sick once more! (P. 83) To a sensitive person, such as the mob-leader obviously i s , i t i s the memory of that shame and self-abasement that i s hardest to bear. When his frightened prisoners prostrate themselves, he r e c o i l s i n disgust at the parody of his own former s e r v i l i t y : You merciless wretches! What! you kneel, you whine, To smile to me you dare! one smile again, And the mob i s rending ye»—rise masters mine! (p. 84) The balance of power being reversed, the former slave reacts i n a predictably tyrannical and s a d i s t i c fashion* he grants his Lord and his Lord's family a boon; he offers them one more opportunity to practice t h e i r disdain, to lash him once again with t h e i r inso-lence} and he taunts them with the thought that one hour ago he was s t i l l t h e i r slave, his very l i f e at the mercy of t h e i r whim. Thus f a r the vengeful revolu-tionary's actions have been predictable, but another dimension i s given to his character, and indeed to the entire episode,by the revelation of his scorn f o r the mob. I t Is a masterstroke of irony, that the a r i s t o -crats carry with them to t h e i r deaths the knowledge that could possibly save them, but which they are help-less to reveal* Can you not t e l l these avengers of my shame How I loathe, despise them)—ye were saved, saved, saved! The beasts have l i c k ' d your feet, and again would tame! Aha! they w i l l sword you when t h i s hand i s waved! They w i l l wrench your hearts out! stumble i n your gore! Can you not speak them! beasts they are l i k e ye! But mine, mine, mine! for you they rage and roar! I hold the key! (pp. 84-5) The poem i s set i n revolutionary France but i t s ap p l i c a t i o n to contemporary England i s transparent. The t r a n s i t i o n from the old agrarian order based on a r i g i d class system to a newer, more democratic society had been attended by wide-spread violence and bloodshed i n France. In England, where reforms proceeded by the more cumbersome l e g i s l a t i v e process, the t r a n s i t i o n a l move-ment lagged a couple of decades behind. The French example caused a l o t of unease i n England, where i t was inevi t a b l e that Englishmen should measure l o c a l a g i t a t i o n with a yardstick made i n France. The revolution of 1830 once again raised the spectre of insurrection and class war. The f o r t i e s , too, were years darkened by the shadow of vi o l e n t revolt i n Chartism, some of whose leaders, Feargus O'Connor f o r example, were Imprisoned for i n c i t i n g sedition, and even armed r e b e l l i o n . Jones* s o c i a l i s t poetry needed no i n t e r p r e t a t i o n to reveal i t s pertinence to contemporaries. Oppression and r e v o l t are the themes of "Ways of Regard" which contains some of the most vigorous oratory i n the volume. & The poem changes focus several times and the t r a n s i t i o n s are not strong enough to unify the wholej but there are passages of great emotional power and dramatic arepresentation which fascinate at the same time that they repel. Nevertheless, despite the effectiveness of the language the poem remains a series of highly charged episodes that touch but f a i l to adhere. The poem should be read, however, i f only to see the heights of impassioned oratory Jones attained when the subject was close to h i s heart. Furthermore, the poem gives f u l l e r expression to the phenomenon of power and i t s dehumanizing e f f e c t s , not only upon the oppressed, but also upon the oppressors. This i s an aspect of sub-je c t i o n already touched on i n "A Slave's Triumph"; i t i s also referred to time and again i n the "Land Monopoly" pamphlet, and i t was obviously seen by Jones as the most pernicious factor i n a thoroughly e v i l s i t u a t i o n . A f t e r a lengthy introduction that i l l u s t r a t e s the rapine and greed which characterize mankind, the poet recounts a v i s i o n i n which he sees a multitude of slaves gathered i n a cave. The leader, whose words re-c a l l the protagonist i n "A Slave's Triumph," i s t r y i n g to s t i r the slaves from the apathy to which custom has reduced them. The l u r i d cave scene r e c a l l s the night-mare q u a l i t y of James "BV" Thomson's C i t y of Dreadful  Night i In tumult l i f t e d i t [the crowd] I t s wither'd countenances, skinny jaws, Wild eyes, and knotted brows, and bloodless l i p s . One a f t e r the other rose the faces, t i l l They set t l e d there, one pale dark stare of pain. (P. 156) While the chief i s r a i l i n g against t h e i r persecutors, he i s brought news that his c h i l d has been raped by t h e i r master, "Struck from the pedestal of maidenhood/ To the cold d i t c h of harlotry." The chief uses the example of his daughter to i l l u s t r a t e how f a r each of the assembled slaves has degenerated. They have grown dependent upon the state of oppression} the w i l l to act has been undermined by years of i l l - u s a g e passively accepted. Lacking the means to r e s i s t , and i n the absence of objective moral standards, f a m i l i a r i t y speedily changes tolerance to dependence. The chief says of his daughter that the day w i l l come soon when she w i l l cease to r e s i s t v i o l a t i o n and lewd desires M i l supplant virtue» "The f i l t h perpetually a s s a i l i n g her/Must a l t e r her! 'Tis not i n human nature}/Endless repulsion." She w i l l change as they have a l l changed. None of them, the chief continues, has avoided the ignominy of s e l f -abnegation} each has i n v i t e d continuous and increased abuse by denying his manhood. The time has come to cast o f f the hand of the oppressor, to assert t h e i r masculinity and baptize t h e i r d i g n i t y In the blood of t h e i r oppressors: They bade us feed on grass—we w i l l grow drunk With t h e i r red blood} they trample us as snakes— We w i l l r i s e dragon-like, and with our f e t t e r s Act inconceivably!—Revenge! revenge! Not that they v i o l a t e our wives f o r sport, And laugh at our unnatural endurance,— Not that they tear our children from t h e i r mothers, C r i p p l i n g t h e i r limbs, extinguishing t h e i r minds With endless t o i l , — t h e only things that love u s , — Not that our food i s garbage? that our babes Droop at the milkless teat; not that they dare, Oh shameless beasts!,unnaturally deprive Our youth of manhood,— But because that they have so damned us That we've endured these shames! Oh f o r t h i s murder. This poisoning, t h i s p d l l u t i o n , t h i s dead l i f e , What, what revenge! They lash us into smiles'. God! we w i l l rush through blood up to our armpits! (pp. 161-2) Absolute power also corrupts the possessor of that power. "The moral depravity of any Individual, i s i n exact proportion to the disregard which he has f o r the elevation and the happiness of his Fellow-men," Jones l a t e r wrote i n "The Land Monopoly" (p. 1 3 ) , and c l e a r l y many of his " S o c i a l i s t " poems are directed at the governing classes. Obviously, the role of s o c i a l conscience i s an important feature of the poet's work, but before he could Inspire men with a v i s i o n of a higher l e v e l of { existence, they had to be made aware of t h e i r earthly short-comings. Before men could approach the i d e a l based on universal love as envisioned by the poet, they must f i r s t be given a conscience. I t was to t h i s end that he wrote "Song of the Kings of Gold." As i n "Ways of Regard," autocratic tyranny i s the subject of the poem. But, whereas the sentiments and several of the outrages are s i m i l a r , i n "Song of the Kings of Gold" the words are placed i n the despots* mouths. The poem i s dedicated to the new breed of d i c -t a t ors, the Molochs of the world. Money now wields&the same power that once went only with t i t l e , and, because of the novelty of such authority, the modern despots have an even greater tendency to abuse t h e i r power. The sweep and r i n g of the verse succeeds i n echoing the supreme arrogance of the "Kings of Gold"" as they r e v e l i n t h e i r sovereignty, taunting t h e i r victims and defying a l l oppositions And a l l on earth that l i v e s , Woman, and man, and c h i l d . Us trembling homage gives; Aye trampled, s p o r t - d e f i l e d , None dareth r a i s e one frown, Or s l i g h t e s t questioning hold; Our scorn but s t r i k e s them down To adore the Kings of Gold. (Chorus) We cannot count our slaves, Nothing bounds our sway, Our w i l l destroys and saves, We l e t , we create, we slay. Ha! Ha! who are Gods? (p. 49) Physical force has been rendered redundant by the new order. When a man has been separated from the land and Is, thus, dependent upon another f o r employment, "scorn" i s often s u f f i c i e n t to s t r i k e down resistance. The dilemma of the landless working class i s given poignant expression i n "A Coming Cry," which was r e c i t e d from the platform by the reform leader W.J. Pox (SJ, p. l i i i ) . The poem protests the s e t t i n g up of workhouses and s i m i l a r acts of c h a r i t y necessitated by i n d u s t r i a l i z a t i o n which attempt to a l l e v i a t e symptoms rather than cure the disease. The opening l i n e s a n t i -cipate Jones' proposals i n his pamphlet that the i n -equities of capitalism be eradicated at the source, that a l l men be recognized as equal, not only i n the sight of God, but also i n the sight of Government. A tension runs throughout the poem as Jones works with the d i s -p a r i t y between God's natural law and the earth-Lords' unnatural one—he states that God's intentions are being d e l i b e r a t e l y and consistently perverted by men with m a t e r i a l i s t i c Ideals, The poem i s i n the form of a speech being addressed by an orator to a crowd. He proceeds care-f u l l y and deliberately,.;and the tone i s one of d i s -passionate observation. He c l e a r l y knows that the facts w i l l speak fo r themselves. The speaker c a r e f u l l y avoids i n c i t i n g r e b e l l i o n , but the frequent r h e t o r i c a l questions c l e a r l y are meant to s t i r the emotions. The r e f r a i n , "We'll a l l go b u i l d i n g workhouses, m i l l i o n , m i l l i o n men," that concludes each stanza gently lowers the temperature, but In the f i n a l stanza the speaker's method becomes apparent: the r e f r a i n i s repeated u n t i l i t loses i t s i n t r i n s i c meaning and becomes a sword with which to goad the audience. The f i r s t stanza considers the alterna-t i v e to the workhouse, but concludes "Perhaps i t s better than starvation." The f i n a l stanza, a f t e r r e c a l l i n g that his audiences forefather's fought at Cressy, and under Nelson, concludes} W i l l we at earth's bidding, b u i l d ourselves dishonour'd graves? W i l l we who've made t h i s England, endure to be i t s slaves? Thrones t o t t e r before the answer!— once we'll pray, and then We'll a l l go b u i l d i n g workhouses,— m i l l i o n , m i l l i o n men. (P. 146) The poems of s o c i a l reform are among the best Jones wrote f o r they convey the passionate feelings of the maniin v i v i d images and f o r c e f u l language. Occasion-a l l y , as i n "Ways of Regard," a p a r t i c u l a r l y s t r i k i n g passage separates i t s e l f from the main work, but i n the shorter poems such as "Song of the Kings of Gold," and p a r t i c u l a r l y "A Coming Cry," to the fervour of the emo-t i o n a l appeal i s added the r e s t r a i n t of an a r t i s t i c form which adds aesthetic pleasure to sympathetic response. But, Jones' most pleasing poetry today remains the shorter l y r i c s which hymn the beauty of the earth and convey to the reader the poet's empathic response to the world around him. The f i n a l selection of poems, which were to be included in a second volume called Studies of Resemblance  and Consent, consists almost entirely of short l y r i c s (the exceptions are the parable-. like "The Misanthrope's Cure," and "I Believe) and brings together several poems that can stand comparison with many of the finest lyrics in literature. Although a l l were written after the publication of the f i r s t volume, most belong to the years immediately following the book. The short untitled poem beginning "My wife and child . . . "istteonly one of an autobiographical nature that refers to his family. Again, there i s a reference to an ideal, transcendent love "That l i f t e t h us to the saints above," but now the spi r i t u a l ideal must be forged out of suffering. After a silence of fifteen years, Jones began to write poetry again when he visited Jersey in the last year of his l i f e . Two poems, "I Believe" and "A Winter Hymn to the Snow," remain from this period; "To Death," written less than two months before he died, i s dated June 1 0 , I 8 6 0 . The t i t l e "Studies of Resemblance and Consent" has obviously been as carefully selected as the t i t l e of his published book. It is possible to see in "When the World is Burning" and "I Believe" elements of Jones' moral p h i l -osophy' based on universal "resemblance" or "Fraternal essences"? furthermore, there i s a d i s t i n c t tone of tolerance and acquiescence to most of the f i n a l c o l l e c -t i o n , a sense of having l a i d troubled and r e s t i v e s p i r i t s , and a sense of r e c o n c i l i a t i o n with l i f e . I f one takes "consent" as synonymous with acceptance, i t i s possible to see a c e r t a i n aptness In the t i t l e . The apocalyptic v i s i o n of the earth, anticipated i n "Ode t o Thought" and"Ways of Regard," among other poems, has apparently been r e a l i z e d i n "When the World i s Burning." A parenthetical note states that these are "Stanzas f o r Music" and they do have a delicacy of touch and a rhythmic flow that would r e a d i l y lend i t s e l f to orchestration. The earth i s described as burning, but there i s no sense of cataclysmic doom. The f i r e i s gentle: the flames are "small and blue and golden": and the l i g h t i s "soft." The world has apparently passed through the r i t u a l p u r i f i c a t i o n by f i r e and, cleansed, has been regenerated. There i s a sensation of a i r i n e s s and l i g h t . I t i s as though the i n d u s t r i a l landscape has been wiped clean and the earth returned to i t s elemental state. Humanity has succeeded to a l i f e of joyous f u l f i l l m e n t , gone i s the ugliness, the misery, and the a l i e n a t i o n of the senses; mankind and nature j o i n i n mutual accord, a sensation that i s reinforced by the rhythmic ebb and flow of the verse. The poem exudes an a i r of innocence and t r a n q u i l l i t y that takes on a s p i r i t u a l dimension as nature and mankind celebrate i n unison the r e b i r t h of the world: When the world i s burning, Fi r e d within, yet turning Round with face unscathed; Ere f i e r c e flames, uprushing, O'er a l l lands leap, crushing, T i l l earth f a l l fire-swathed; Up amidst the meadows, Gently through the shadows, Gentle flames w i l l g l i d e , Small, and blue, and golden. Though by bard beholden, When i n calm dreams f o l d e n , — Calm his dreams w i l l bide. Where the dance i s sweeping, Through the greensward peeping, Sh a l l the soft l i g h t s s t a r t ; Laughing maids, unstaying, Deeming i t t r i c k - p l a y i n g , High t h e i r robes upswaying, O'er the l i g h t s s h a l l dart; And the woodland haunter Sh a l l not cease to saunter When, f a r down some glade, Of the great world's burning One soft flame upturning Seems, to his discerning, Crocus i n the shade, (pp. 185-186) Jones adhered to his theory of existence to the end. "I Believe" expresses a f a i t h i n a higher order of the eternal, and "A Winter Hymn to the Snow" r e f l e c t s h i s continuing f a i t h i n the moral influence of nature working on the senses. His l a s t work, however, i n t r o -duces the view that i f man ever achieves b l i s s i t w i l l happen i n "some farther l i f e . " In "I Believe*,' the poet considers the temporal nature of l i f e and the consequent dissillusionment that man Inevitably suffers: Every ship, except the ship we embark i n , Gives us dreams Of bright voyaging, beauteous lands afar, and Glorious streams; Every maiden, u n t i l she has consented, Angel seems. (P. 195) In the theme of a n t i c i p a t i o n and f u l f i l m e n t there i s also a suggestion that Jones recognized the unlikelihood that his former v i s i o n of an Ideal world would be r e a l i z e d , and c e r t a i n l y not i n his own l i f e -time. The opening stanza s t r i k e s a note of cynicism, only exceeded by that of the "Song of the Gold-Getters," before the poet goes on to examine the reason why man's hopes are continually frustrated. He concludes that man i s doomed to disappointment f o r as long as he i s obsessed with the material and impermanent aspects of l i f e . Only the i n t u i t i o n of a more durable r e a l i t y can bring man the s a t i s f a c t i o n he seeks; but i t now appears to Jones that man i s committed to perpetual d i s i l l u s i o n -ment, for i t seems to the poet that the majority of men are incapable of sublime v i s i o n : But most I pondering deem that i t may be That thy sight To grasp the perfect 'neath Time's imperfections Hath no might, Whilst only before the perfect canst thou expand to F i t d elight. (P. 196) Nevertheless, the poet reasserts h i s f a i t h that the new order w i l l come to pass but now i t i s associated with r e l i g i o u s b e l i e f . The imminence of death and the fru s -t r a t i o n of his earthly Ideals encourage him to contem-plate the p o s s i b i l i t y of an a f t e r - l i f e . The conception seems to give him consolation and strengthj Nor shake thou mockingly thy dart, oh Death! Know, oh King! We have made friends with Melancholy, and she Thee w i l l b ring Gently among us, yea to teach new music Them that sing. There i s a heaven, though we to hope to pass there May not dare; Where adoration s h a l l f o r ever adore some Perfect f a i r ; And we can wait thee, Death, our eyes enfixed Firmly there . (pp. 198-9) Inevitably, the proximity of death caused Jones to r e f l e c t upon the apparent f u t i l i t y of being and to wonder about the immortality of the soul. But his com-mitment to l i f e on earth had been absolute, and he was too much of a humanist to seek the support of r e l i g i o n i n his l a s t days. He had rejected r e l i g i o u s b e l i e f i n his youth and he was not a man to clutch at a s o l i f i d i a n straw, nor to o f f e r " p a r a s i t i c a l and i n s u l t i n g worship" inspired by fear. In his f i n a l poem, the poet goes to a churchyard to challenge death about the r i d d l e of mortal l i f e — n o t to beg fo r reassurance, but to s a t i s f y a r a t i o n a l craving. The opening stanza stresses his s e l f -composure and the i n t e l l e c t u a l nature of the questi I see thee In the churchyard, Death, And f a i n would ta l k with thee, While s t i l l I draw the young man's breath And s t i l l with c l e a r eyes see. (p. 204) I t does not take long f o r him to recognize that his presence i n the graveyard constitutes an abrogation of the l i f e - p r i n c i p l e , and he prepares to take his leave, none the wiser but no less resolute than when he entered. The solemnity of the mood i s never allowed to degenerate in t o bathos f o r the poet throughout i n s i s t s on his s e l f - s u f f i c i e n c y . Naturally, the reader who possesses biographical d e t a i l s w i l l invest the poem with an emotional i n t e n s i t y that might otherwise be lacking; but, nevertheless, the poem can stand on i t s own as a fine evocation of the elegiac mood. Although the poet notices the continuing l i f e - c y c l e of which death i s only one aspect t h i s i s small consolation, the reader f e e l s , to the Individual soul about to die. But t h i s i s not necessarily Jones* response; i t i s the f e e l i n g one c a r r i e s away from a poem whose f i n a l l i n e s drive home the inevi t a b l e and inscru t -able r e a l i t y of death: And v a i n l y I desert my post In l i f e ' s poor puppet game, And seek thee where t h i s s i l e n t host Of tombs thy power proclaim. When midnight wraps the world i n sleep, Or when the vanishing stars And morn once more, new day to keep, Ro l l s back her golden bars. In vain, i n vain, but one reply In thy sad realm I f i n d ; Some fresh grave ever meets the eye, And mocks the unanswer'd mind. (p. 2 0 6 ) An assessment of the work of any poet i s fraught with d i f f i c u l t i e s and these are mul t i p l i e d i n Jones* case because his published work i s li m i t e d to one single volume. In the past, c r i t i c s (excluding the early re-viewers) arid l i t e r a r y h istorians almost without excep-t i o n , have allowed a knowledge of the poet's unfortunate h i s t o r y to colour t h e i r discussion of his work. The following extract from Hugh Walker*s The Literature of the  V i c t o r i a n Era i s a t y p i c a l example: Jones' struggling, p a i n f u l l i f e , his grinding t o i l , his 'lamentable* domestic r e l a t i o n s , a l l plead f o r recognition as generous as possible f o r the work he did i n circumstances so untoward. His youth when Studies of Sensation and Event appeared is an excuse f o r many f a u l t s ; and the manly strength he showed i n other ways makes i t probable that had he l i v e d longer, or rather, had he been i n a p o s i t i o n to use for l i t e r a t u r e his f o r t y years of l i f e , he would have l e f t a considerable name.l As t h i s study has t r i e d to demonstrate, Jones' poetry i s undeserving of the neglect that has been i t s fate since 1843. This i s not to make any exaggerated claims about i t s importance but i t does seem to merit at least as much attention as the work of other minor poets of the period such as Clare, E l l i o t , even Mrs. Browning. Neither Thomas Hood's "Song of the S h i r t , " rior Mrs. Browning's "Song of the Children," which post-date Jones' book, and which were widely acclaimed at the time, can make as strong a claim to the l a b e l of poetry as, for example, "A Coming Cry"5 and nothing i n Ebenezer E l l i o t ' s verse exceeds the power and rhetoric of "Song of the Gold-Getters" and "Ways of Regard." A l l of the foregoing poets have several examples of t h e i r work i n W.H. Auden's Nineteenth Century Mlnor  Poets whereas Ebenezer Jones i s not represented by a single poem. As Auden points out i n the introduction, errors of judgment and omissions w i l l occur, but he goes on to say that the anthologist "must t r y to represent every genuine minor poet of the period he i s covering, any poet, that i s to say, who wrote one good poem,"2 Jones wrote several good poems and some such as "A Slave's Triumph," "A Pagan's Drinking Chaunt," and "When the World i s Burning," which would grace any c o l l e c t i o n of V i c t o r i a n poetry. By a quirk of the compositional process "A Pagan's Drinking Chaunt" has been omitted from the general body of poetry already c i t e d . I t Is quite a short l y r i c and can be quoted i n f u l l ; i t w i l l be seen to be as p e r f e c t l y finished a l y r i c as any of the period: Like the bright white arm of a young god, thrown To the hem of a struggling maiden's gown, The torrent leaps on the kegs of stone That held t h i s wine i n the dark gulf down; Deep f i v e fathoms i t lay i n the cold, The afternoon summer-heats heavily weigh; This wine i s awaiting i n flagons of gold On the side of the hi11 that looks over the bay. There a bower of vines f o r each one bends Under the t e r r a c i n g cedar-trees; Where, shut from the presence of foes or friends, He may quaff and couch i n lonely ease; The sunshine slants past the dark green cave, In the sunshine the galleys before him w i l l drowse; And the roar of the town, l i k e a f a r -t r a v e l l ' d wave, W i l l f a i n t l y flow i n to his calm carouse. No r e s t l e s s womanhood f r e t s the bower, Exacting and fawning and vain and shy; But a b e a u t i f u l boy s h a l l attend the hour And s i l e n t l y low i n the entrance l i e . As he s i l e n t l y reads the s c r o l l s that t e l l The Cyprian's loves and the maiden's dreams, His limbs w i l l twine and his l i p s w i l l swell, And his eyes d i l a t e with amorous schemes. And his yearning limbs and his s u l t r y mouth W i l l r e c a l l to the drinker his own youth's prime; When there seem'd crowding round his from east, west, and south, Countless sleek limbs of women with cap-t u r i n g mime; And h e ' l l mourn for youth; and h e ' l l deem more dear This cool bright wine;—to our bowers, away! And nothing w i l l witness the sigh or the tear On the side of the h i l l that looks over the b a y * (PP. 129-130) Ultimately, the true test of a poem i s sits con-tinued capacity to surprise and delight, and such i s the case i n the above poem and the ones previously noted, A single poem, i f i t possesses t h i s q u a l i t y , i s s u f f i c i e n t reason to recover the poet's name from obscurity; and i t seems, f i n a l l y , that a f t e r a period of more than f i f t y years, the poetry of Ebenezer Jones—notwithstand-ing Auden's n e g l e c t — i s being noticed once more. As Appendix i i i indicates, Jones' poems were f a i r l y r e g u l a r l y anthologized i n the decade and a half a f t e r the death of Rossetti, i n 1882. But i n the f i r s t h alf of the twentieth century only Qulller-Couch, i n 1919, anthologized one of Jones' poems, a fa c t which probably r e f l e c t s the general reaction against V i c t o r i a n poetry up to 1950. In 19^9, Marjorie Evans included i n her anthology Jones' most frequently published poem "When the World Is Burning." Since that time Jones has been represented i n two more anthologies including the very recent Penguin Book of V i c t o r i a n Verse. The late i n t e r e s t i n Jones (perhaps Jack Lindsay ' may even decide to complete his S t a r f i s h Road) indicates a reassessment of the V i c t o r i a n period i t s e l f and the r e a l i z a t i o n that Victorians were a f f l i c t e d with problems of i d e n t i t y arid a l i e n a t i o n that were thought p e c u l i a r to the techocratic world of the twentieth century. The aspect of Jones' poetry that has been emphasized i n t h i s study i s his attempt as an a r t i s t to come to terms with a fragmented world characterized by doubt and despair, and by s o c i a l i n j u s t i c e s and ex-p l o i t a t i o n . Many of the graver s o c i a l hardships have disappeared today but the i n a b i l i t y of men to r e l a t e to the needs of others i s s t i l l a common theme i n modern l i t e r a t u r e . In summary, i t has been the intention of t h i s study to show that Jones' poetry may stand by i t s e l f as a sensitive response to a c r i t i c a l s o c i a l periodi and, further, that Jones produced a few memorable poems which, as Rossetti remarked so long ago, cry aloud f o r d i s -interment. But, a f t e r a l l the discussion, i t i s d i f f i -c u l t to dissociate the man from his poetry—not to respond to the pathos i n his l i f e ; to regret that i t s course was not otherwise, or that the indications of poetic a b i l i t y were not allowed to mature. Perhaps the most f i t t i n g comment with which to conclude i s that made by George Saintsbury, which has something of the gnomic q u a l i t y of an epitaph about i t : Ebenezer Jones might have been at least as good a poet as most i n t h i s chapter; and there i s hardly a case i n I t i n which the phrase Pis a l l t e r visum [the gods decided otherwiseJ i s not at once more obvious and more explicable.3 Introduction 3-Notes and Queries, 4 th S.V., 5 Feb. 1870, p. 154. 2Watts-Dunton (1832-1914) was born Theodore Watts. In 1897 he added his mother's maiden name of Dunton to his own name and i t i s t h i s form that w i l l be c i t e d throughout t h i s paper. A minor poet and n o v e l i s t , Watts-Dunton was also a s o l i c i t o r and i t was i n t h i s professional capacity that he met D.G. Rossetti i n whose l a t e r l i f e he plays a large role. He assumses major importance i n t h i s paper because of a long a r t i c l e he wrote on Jones i n the Athenaeum? he was the chief l i t e r a r y c r i t i c of the journal at that time and f o r many years afterwards. 3see Meetings with Poets (London, 1968), pp. 157-8. ^Collected Poems (London, 1959)t PP. 62-3. 5 P o r t r a l t of Rossetti (London, 1964) , p. 17. 6Rev. ed. (London, 1966), p. 11. ?Lindsay, i n Meetings with Poets, p. 157, also sees Jones as a t r a n s i t i o n a l poet, but "as a type of f a i l u r e " — L i n d s a y expresses his sympathy f o r his "baffled e f f o r t to break through into new dimensions of thought and f e e l i n g . " 8A11 quotations from the text, including poetry quotations, r e f e r to the 1879 e d i t i o n which contains the memorial notices by Sumner Jones and William James Linton, hereafter, c i t e d as (SJ) and (WJL). The l a t e r volume, i n addition, contains nine poems not included i n the o r i g i n a l edition? the four poems i n the o r i g i n a l work which were omitted from the second e d i t i o n are trans-cribed i n Appendix i . The Watts-Dunton a r t i c l e i n the Athenaeum (21 and 28 Sept. and 12 Oct. I878) w i l l subse-quently be c i t e d as (TWD, 1, 2 , or 3). F i n a l l y , MSS i n the P e n k i l l or Angeli Papers at the University of B r i t i s h Columbia, are indicated by (PP) or (AP). Chapter One l"The E v e r l a s t i n g Yea," Sartor Sartorus, i n Prose  of the V i c t o r i a n Period, ed. William E. Buckler (Boston, 195ST7 p. 98. 2ibld., p. 105. 3 l n S.J. Kunitz and Howard Haycraft's B r i t i s h  Authors of the Nineteenth Century (New York, 1936), p. 118. 4The Complete P o e t i c a l Works of Percy Bysshe Shelley, ed. Thomas Hutchinson, Oxford Standard Authors (London, 1965), p. 609. 5 i b i d . , p. 782. ^Ev-ehezer Jones, The Land Monopoly, The Suffering  and Demorallzat1on Caused by I t ; And the J u s t i c e &  Expediency of I t s A b o l i t i o n (London, 1849T! 7For t h i s and other facts about Owen, see Frank Podmore, Robert Owent A Biography, 2nd ed. &The Land Monopoly, p. 3. 9E.C. Stedman, i n his V i c t o r i a n Poets (Cambridge, 1888), p. 261 wrotej "Ebenezer Jones was another Chartist rhymester. . . . These men and t h e i r associates were greatly i n earnest as ag i t a t o r s , and often to the i n j u r y of t h e i r p o s i t i o n as a r t i s t s and poets." See, also, W.M. Rossetti's review of the 1879 issue of Studies  i n Athenaeum, 14 Sept. I878, p. 332. lONotes and Queries, 4th S.V., 8 Jan. I87O, p. 34. H l b l d . , 4th S.V., 5 Feb. 1870, p. 154. 12Hood's Magazine, established i n January 1844. Note, however, that the New Monthly Magazine, ed. T. Hood, i n the same month, selected the "Naked Thinker" as t y p i c a l of the whole and wrote of i t j "An odd and not very agree-able holding i n grand sergeantryj we congratulate the "Naked Thinker," on the unwonted mildness of the present Christmas. There are several "asylums" we believe, i n the salubrious suburb alluded to, but the bard gives us no clue to the p a r t i c u l a r one in, or rather on, which Lord Apswern's mansarde i s situate." 13see Sumner's l e t t e r to DGR dated 8 Sept, I 8 7 8 , Appendix 11. l % o t e s and Queries, 4th S.V., 5-March, 1870, p. 264. 15R.H. Shepherd, i n his monograph, Forgotten Books  Worth Remembering (London, I878), and, also, i n the 1879 ed i t i o n of Studies, which he edited, dates the Gazette review as 23 Dec. 1843; however, although the review obviously e x i s t s , a search around the date has f a i l e d to locate i t . ^Quoted by R.H. Shepherd, Forgotten Books, pp. 10-11. ITThe C r i t i c , March, 1844, p. 113. 18Athenaeum, 13 A p r i l , 1844, p. 335. Chapter Two ISee Appendix i i . 2The Letters of Charles Dickens, ed. Georgina Hogarth and Mamie Dickens (London, 1882), I I I , pp. 68-9. 3see also Linton's Memories (London, I 8 9 5 ) , pp. 79-81 i n which he gives an account of t h e i r vacation i n the North of England; he also pays t r i b u t e to his friends' "Heroic" q u a l i t i e s . 4Notes and Queries, 4th S.V., 5 Feb., 187-0, p. 264. 5Autobiographlcal Notes, ed. W. Minto (London, 1892), I, pp. 252-3. °In his 5 March 1870, l e t t e r to Notes and Queries, B e l l Scott wrote« "After his marriage. . . . and the l a s t time I saw him he t o l d me with pain that he could not think a single poetic idea, or coin a single rhyme." 7See "In Memoriam," pp. i v and i x . Also, B e l l Scott writing to W.M. Rossetti 30 September I878, comments; "one of poor Eben's g a l l i n g troubles for some years before he died was that his brother Sumner and himself were not on speaking terms." Appendix i i . SAthenaeum. 14 Sept. I 8 7 8 , p. 332. A si m i l a r r e c o l l e c t i o n by the same author i s found i n his Dante  Gabriel Rossettit His Family Letters with a Memoir (London, 1895), I, p. H I . 9 A u tobiographlcal Notes, I, p. 252. See also the l e t t e r Jones sent to B e l l Scott dated June, 1847. Linton quotes i t extensively (WJL p. l x v i i i ) but f o r a more substantial account see the Academy, Nov. 2, I878, Jones i s severely c r i t i c a l of his previous work and wonders "whether the condition of the percipient was a condition under which works of art should be undertaken." Chapter Three Iw.J. Linton, i n an unpublished l e t t e r to A l i c e Boyd, William B e l l Scott's mistress, dated J u l y 20 , 1891, and headed New Haven, Connect icut] , refers to "Heme Shepherd's f a i l u r e , the edi t i o n of Studies of Sensation and Event i n 1879." (PP), "Special C o l l e c -tions," U.B.C. ^Extract from the published proceedings of the t r i a l Shepherd v. Erancis (the publisher of the Athenaeum), i n The Times, June 17, I879. 3Athenaeum, 14 Sept. I 8 7 8 , p. 331. 4 "Special Collections," U.B.C. 5Some Reminiscences (London, 1906), I, p. 95. 6 i b i d . , pp. 471-472. 7 L e t t e r s of Dante Gabriel Rossetti, 4 vols., eds. Oswald Doughty and John Robert Wahl (Oxford, 1 9 6 5 - 6 6 ) , IV, 2022, p. 1625. ^Also i n several of his unpublished l e t t e r s to A l i c e Boyd between 23 Oct. and 17 Nov. I878, the subject of Ebenezer Jones i s touched on. The tone of the l e t t e r s , however, indicates that B e l l Scott was less concerned with reviving interest i n Jones than i n getting into p r i n t himself, however ephemeral the vehicle. He also wasted no opportunity i n s t r i k i n g back at Watts-Dunton who had c r i t i c i z e d his erroneous account i n the f i r s t of h i s a r t i c l e s . On 23 Oct., he writes to A l i c e Boydt "I found a long [ l e t t e r ] from Eben, which i s so charac-t e r i s t i c and i n t e r e s t i n g I am thinking of sending i t to either the Athenaeum or Academy. You know I hold i t easy to overrate the kind of poetry of Eben under the enthusiastic f e e l i n g of r e s u s c i t a t i o n . " And on 17 Nov?, he wrote to her: "You w i l l observe .1"take the occasion fAcademy, 16 Nov] for q u i e t l y r e i t e r a t i n g what I said before about Eben's interview with Hood and also of his e n t i r e l y giving up poetry a f t e r publishing, both of which statements Watts affirmed were incorrect." (PP), "Special Collections," U.B.C. ^Letters, IV, 1983, p. 1604, 11 Nov., 1878. lOsee reply from Sumner to Rossetti, dated 8 Sept. 1878, Appendix i i . llOswald Doughty, A V i c t o r i a n Romantic:, Dante Gabriel  Rossetti (London, 19607, P. 602. 12Rossetti writes to Watts-Dunton, 13 Nov-.,, I878j "Thanks f o r y i e l d i n g to my incitement re Skipsey. I am sure you f e e l as strongly as I do that i t i s always something to the good i f one can help i n making a fine fellow happy." Letters, IV, 1988, p. 1605. Sumner, too, expressed his gratitude " f o r your introduction of me to Mr. Watts. , . as i t i s that note which has resulted i n the memorial to my brother Eben." Let t e r to Rossetti, 18 Oct. Appendix 11. 1 3 L e t t e r s , IV, pp. 1592-1593. l^when the stock of Pickering and Co. was trans-ferred to George Redway there were s u f f i c i e n t copies to j u s t i f y t i p p i n g i n a new t i t l e page and c a l l i n g i t a "New E d i t i o n . " 15The V i c t o r i a n Romantics 1850-70 (Archon Books, 1929), PP. 102-107. Chapter Four 1"Gospel of Mammonlsm," Past and Present, In Buckler, p. 136, 2Quoted by Walter E. Houghton In The V i c t o r i a n  Frame of Mind 1830-1870 (New Haven, 19577, P. 9. 3see, f o r example, [W.E, Aytoun]*s F l r m l l l a m or tfte  Student of Badajozs A Spasmodic Tragedy, by T, Percy Jones (Edinburgh & London, 185*0" Also W.H. Mallock's "How to Make a Spasmodic Poem l i k e Mr. R*B*RT B*CH*N*N*," i n Every Man his own Poet: or The Singer's Recipe (Oxford, TB72TT -^Houghton, p. 22. These two c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s are the s t a r t i n g point f o r his examination of the years 1830-1870. 5Autobiography, ch. 5, i n Buckler, pp. 295-6. 6 L O C. c i t . 7 l n his Recollections of Dante Gabriel Rossetti (London, 1882}, p. 263, T. H a l l Calne r e c a l l e d that when he asked Rossetti for recommendations f o r his projected anthology of sonnets, Rossetti sent a l i s t i ncluding examples from Shakespeare, Donne, and Words-worth; he also wrote: "There i s a sonnet by Ebenezer Jones, beginning 'I never wholly f e e l that summer i s high,' which though very jagged, has decided merit to warrant i t s in c l u s i o n . " 8 l t i s more than l i k e l y that "Ways of Regard" i s the poem referred to by Browning i n a l e t t e r to Edmund Gosse dated 21 Sept. I8785 "Has your attention been directed to an a r t i c l e i n l a s t week's Athenaeum, on a reprint of some of the poems of Ebenezer Jones, i n which my name was introduced as that of one who 'thoroughly appreciated' the author? That i s undoubtedly true: but I never saw nor heard anything of him except his one book,—which was lent to me for a somewhat hurried reading. I remember speaking about i t to W.J. Fox,—who t o l d me he knew the writer personally and shared i n my opinion of his power: and, I almost think i t may have been from one of those 'roughly-printed blue-paper books* that E l i o t Warburton, afr breakfast once, declaimed to me an impassioned Chartist tirade i n blank v e r s e , — t h e speech of an orator addressing a crowd." i n Letters of Robert Browning: Collected by  Thos. J . Wise, ed. Thurman L. Hood (New Haven, 1933), p. 184. lWalker,(Cambridge, 1910),pp. 352-3. 2Auden, (London, 1967), P. 18. 3"Lesser Poets of the Middle and Late Nineteenth Century," The Cambridge Hlstoryvof English L i t e r a t u r e 2nd ed, ed. A.W. Ward and A.R. Waller (Cambridge, 1964), x i i i , p. 157. A SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY Primary Sources a) Manuscript Sumner Jones to Dante Gabriel Rossetti; 3 l e t t e r s dated 8 and 16 September and 1 2 October I 8 7 8 . Angeli Papers, "Special C o l l e c t i o n s , " University of B r i t i s h Columbia. William James Linton to A l i c e Boydj 1 l e t t e r dated 2 0 J u l y 1 8 9 1 . P e n k i l l Papers, "Special C o l l e c t i o n s , " U n i v e r s i t y of B r i t i s h Columbia. William B e l l Scott to A l i c e Boyd; 2 l e t t e r s dated 23 October and 1 ? November I 8 7 8 , P e n k i l l Papers. . to Dante Gabriel Rossetti; 2 l e t t e r s dated 2 0 September and 1 2 November I 8 7 8 . Angeli Papers. . to William Michael Rossetti; 1 l e t t e r dated 30 September I 8 7 8 . Angeli Papers. b) Printed Jones, Ebenezer, Studies of Sensation and Event1 Poems. Londont Charles Pox, TSkT. The Land Monopoly, the Suffering and Demoral-Studies of Sensation and Eventt Poems. 2nd a) Newspapers and Journals Anon. Review of The E a r l i e r Poems of Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 182o"^1833. Ed. Richard Heme Shepherd. The Athenaeum. No. 26l6 (15 Dec. I877), pp. 765-6. . Review of "Poems, By Ebenezer Jones." The New Monthly Magazine, 70, No. 277 (Jan. 184477~152. . Review of "Mr Ebenezer Jones's Poems." The Spectator, 16, No. 805 (2 Dec. 1843), 1146-7.. . Review of Studies of Sensation and Event> Poems, by Ebenezer Jones. The Athenaeum, No. 859 T T J T p r i l , 1844), p. 335. _____ . Review of Studies of Sensation and Event> Poems, by Ebenezer Jones. The Cri€Tc,(March 1844), pp. 113-114. Colles, Ramsay. "Ebenezer Jones." The Gentleman's Magazine, N. Ser. 73, No. 297 "(Aug. 1904), 143-155. Gledstanes-Waugh, F. "Ebenezer Jones," Notes And Queries, 4th Ser., V (8 Jan. 1870), W. R o s s e t t i , Dante Gabriel. "Ebenezer Jones." Notes And Queries, 4th Ser., V (5 Feb. 16*70), 154. [Rossetti, William Michael], Review of Forgotten Books  Worth Remembering, by Richard Heme Shepherd. THe  Athenaeum, No. 2655 (14 Sept. 1878), pp. 331-33"2T~ Scott. William B e l l . "Correspondence," The Academy, 14,No. 339 (2 Nov. 1878), 430-1. . "Correspondence," The Academy, 14, No. 341 (15 Nov. I878), 475. . "Ebenezer Jones." Notes And Queries, 4th Ser. V (5 March, 1870), 2oTT Shepherd v. Francis. The Times (17 June I879), p. 6. Watts[-Dunton], Theodore. The Athenaeum. "Ebenezer Jones," Nos, 2656 and "2537 (21 and 28 Sept. I878), pp. 368-70 and 401-3. Also "Ebenezer Jones and Sumner Jones," No. 2659 (12 Oct? 1878), pp. 466-8. b) Books Betjeman, John. Collected Poems. Londont Butler and Tanner, 1958. Browning, Robert, Letters of Robert Browning Collected  by Thomas J . Wise. Ed. Thurman L. Hood, New Haven: Yale University Press, 1933. Dickens, Charles. The Letters of Charles Dickens. Ed. Georgina Hogarth and Mamie Dickens. London: Chapman and H a l l , 1880-1882. I l l , 68-9. Doughty, Oswald. A V i c t o r i a n Romantic: Dante Gabriel Rossetti. 2nd e<T. London: Oxford University Press, i960. Elton, O l i v e r . A Survey of English Literature 1830-1880. 2 vo l s . London: Edward Arnold, 1961 (1920). I I , 95. Kunitz, Stanley J . , and Haycraft, Howard, ed. B r i t i s h  Authors of the Nineteenth Century. New York: H.W. Wilson, 1964 (1936). Lindsay, Jack. Meetings with Poets. London: Frederick Muller, 196FT"^ Linton, William James. "Ebenezer Jones." The Poets  and Poetry of the Century. Ed. A l f r e d H. Miles. London: HutcHinson, [1891-5]. V, 18-35. . Memories. London: Lawrence and Bullen, 1895. Rees, Thomas Mardy. Ebenezer Jones: The Neglected Poet. Pamphlet 2 pp. [EnglandJ, n.p., J, n. pag. Rossetti, Dante Gabriel. Letters of Dante Gabriel Rossetti. Vol. 4. Ed. Oswald Doughty and John R. Wahl. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1965-66. Rossetti, William Michael, ed. Dante Gabriel Rossetti  Designer and Writer. London: C a s s e l l , 1««9. . ed. Dante Gabriel Rossetti: His Famlly Letters with a Memoir. London: E l l i s and Elvey, i T T i i T 151-2. . ed. Rossetti Papers 1862-70. London: Sands, 1903. . Some Reminiscences. London: Brown and Langham7~l9 0c~ I I , 471-2. Saintsbury, George. A History of English Prosody. London: Macmlllan, 1923. I l l , pp. 262-3. . A History of Nineteenth Century L i t e r a t u r e T?%0-18'9T! New York: Macmillan, I898. . "Lesser Poets of the Middle and Later Nineteenth Century." The Cambridge History of  English L i t e r a t u r e . Ed. A.W. Ward and A.R. Waller. 2nd ed., 1932; rpt. Cambridge: Cambridge Univ e r s i t y Press, 1964. XIII, pt 2, 156-7. Scott, William B e l l . Autobiographical Notes of the L i f e of William B e l l Scott. Ed. W. Mlnto. London: Osgood and Mcllvaine, 1892. I, 252. Shepherd, Richard Heme. Forgotten Books Worth  Remembering. London: Pic k e r i n g 1878. Stedman, Edmund Clarence. V i c t o r i a n Poets. Cambridge (Mass)1 Riverside Press, 1888. Walker, Hugh. The Literature of the V i c t o r i a n Era. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1910, PP. 352-3. Welby, Thomas Earle. The V i c t o r i a n Romantics 1850-1870. London: Howe, 1929. Background and Miscellaneous Sources Allingham, William, ed. NIghtlngale Valley. London: Bell and Daldy, i860. Auden, W.H. Nineteenth Century Minor Poets. London: Faber and Faber, 1967. [Aytoun, W.E.] Flrmlllant Or the Student of Bada.102: A Spasmodic Tragedy by T. Percy Jones. London: Blackwood, 1854, Batho, Edith C., and Dobree, Bonamy. The Victorians  And After: 1830-1914. 3rd ed., rev. London: Crescent Press, 1962. Buckler, William E, ed. Prose of the Victorian Period. Cambridge (Mass): Riverside Press, 1958. Buckley, Jerome Hamilton. The Victorian Temper: A Study in Literary Culture. New York: Vintage Books, 1951. Caine, Thomas H a l l . Recollections of Dante Gabriel  Rossetti. Londoni E l l i o t Stoc¥7 1882. Evans. B. I f o r . . English Poetry i n the Later Nineteenth  Century. Londont Methuen, 1933. Evans, Marjorle R. An Anthology of V i c t o r i a n Verse. Londoni Methuen, 1949. G r y l l s , Rosalie Glynn. P o r t r a i t of Rossetti. London. Macdonald, 1964. Guinn, John P o l l a r d . Shelley's P o l i t i c a l Thought. ThelHague. Mouton, 1969. Hayward, John, ed. The Oxford Book of Nineteenth Century English Verse. Oxford. Clarendon Press, 1964. Houghton, Walter E. The V i c t o r i a n Frame of Mind 1830-1870. New Haven. Yale University Press, 1968 (1957). Linton, William James, and Stoddard, R.H., ed. English  Verse. L y r l c s of the XlXth Century. London. Kegan, Paul, Trench, TB84T" Macbeth, George, ed. The Penguin Book of V i c t o r i a n  Verse. Middlesex. Penguin Books, 1^69. [Mallock, William H u r r e l l ] . Every Man his own Poet or, The Inspired Singer's Recipe Book. London. Simkin and Marshall, lB,77 (1872T7 Podmore, Frank. Robert Owen. A Biography. 2nd ed., 1906? rpt. 2 vols, i n 1. New York. A.M. Ke l l y , 1968. Qulller-Couch, Arthur, ed. The Oxford Book of V i c t o r i a n  Verse. Oxford. Clarendon Press, 1919. Reid, J.C. Thomas Hood. London. Routledge and Kegan Paul, 19631 Sharp, William, ed. Sonnets of t h i s Century. London. Walter Scott, 18W. ' Shelley, Percy Bysshe. The Complete P o e t i c a l Works. Ed. Thomas Hutchinson. London. Oxford University Press, 1965 (1905). Stedman, Edmund Clarence. A V i c t o r i a n Anthology 1837- 1895. Cambridge (MassT. Riverside Press, I895. The poems printed i n the 1843 edi t i o n of the Studies whioh were omitted i n Heme Shepherd's 1879 editi o n . Egremond Ages agone, when l i f e was swift and bright? Before the o r i g i n a t i n g Power had ceased His cycles of creation; when men found Oft i n the mom, new beasts upon the h i l l s , New trees amidst the woods, new flowers, — c r e a t e Then f i r s t ; when on t h i s planet's vaul t i n g s h e l l , Man l a i d not down supine, but up, erect, Waited and watched; i n youthfulness so keen, That days effected i n his thoughts and forms Those revolutions, which, i n these d u l l times, Long years alone can i n s t i g a t e , while centuries T o l l with t h e i r consummation; — t h e n , the sage, Who reverence won f o r sciences? the hero, Who made a nation free; the Saviour, Who human viclousness to goodness changed;— Did so within t h e i r l i f e t i m e s , with completeness; And gained a glory, and sustained a joy, The best of us may dream not. In t h i s proud mom of time l i v e d Egremond; His l i f e a star 'midst w i l d l y clouded e v i l , — E v i l that speedily could be changed to good By competent energies. And Egremond His l i f e did dedicate to ef f e c t t h i s change. The world slept on; the creating Power t o i l e d t Egremond, through the midnight, i n his c e l l , Leaps with his passionate reason down the depths Tempestuously tossed, of human nature, Seeking the masked demons, that invoke Suffering and wrongi he pauses f o r a while; In thought he overbounds the t r a v a i l i n g hour; — Past man's redeeming, he beholds redemption;--He sees beyond the h u r t l i n g cloudinesses, A f a i r bright time? he hears the vast r e j o i c i n g s Of myriads changed by him to virtuous gods:--They shout his name* — d i v i n e l y bums his eye, As though a lonely, s p i r i t of the night Were s t a r i n g i n i t , and a f l a s h leaps through His toil-worn face, and quivering, up he springs,--"Pour no l i b a t i o n , drop no useless tear Above my sepulchre, the dead f e e l not:--But now, oh! nowj now, while t h i s frame can quiver, And the hot blood leaps s w i f t l y to my brain,--Now when the wildest hurricane of passion Were but a power to whirl my fearless s p i r i t In dizzy transport, — w h i l e I would be driven Straight through the universe, swift as a l e a f , So that my soul might widen to her fate, N And throb exultingly against the storm,--Now give me fame, l e t nations f i l l the cup, And to the music of t h e i r myriad shoutings, I ' l l drain i t to the dregs» i t w i l l be, i s , Mine, great God: —mine." Swift from his face a l l passion Fled, thereupon a magnificent smilei He leaned against the window, a f u l l hour Considering his own majesty; Adonis, Gazing within the stream, endured delight As incomparable to Egremond's, As i s the soulless splendour of the sun, To the enveloping smile of a new bride. The moon slants l i g h t on his s k y - l i f t e d face, Haggard with eager i n t e l l e c t u a l t o i l , B e a u t i f u l l y haggard as the face of a corpse, That peering from i t s riven sepulchre L i s t s to the resurrection trumpetings: He h a i l s her wandering thro' the t r a n q u i l heaven:--"Beautiful moonj I would that thou wert God, Or that he looked on me where thou art now, In that blue chasm; so that I might t e l l him, And watch the love grow sof t e r o'er his brow, The while I t o l d him, a l l my mighty j o y , — Creating love where hate was, peace where war: Thou art so b e a u t i f u l , moon: that there must be Some present commune between thee and God: Speak to him f o r me, t e l l to him my love, His greatness daunts me not, f o r I am good:--Yes, I am good, f o r I do procreate goodness; Rapture unspeakable! though yonder skies, Bending down round to me, should f i e r c e l y frown One drown of condemnation, I should stand Unangr1ly; yea, glad-- yea, calm— yea, proud. Power of i n f i n i t e love: I thee not o f f e r The p a r a s i t i c a l and i n s u l t i n g worship Of t e r r o r wrenched thanks; nor basely seek I, By f a l s e disparagement of my goodly nature, To render thee contrastediy exalted; Thy greatness needs i t not:-- to thee, oh God: My soul extends herself i n fearless love, And reverence that i s ecstasy; i f I, In moulding t h i s small i s l e to harmony, Feel b l e s s e d — yea, so blessed, that t h i s hour Is worthier than years of common l i f e , - -How vast must be thy blessedness, aye sphering Happy bright planets from the galaxy, Thereon inhoming us i n t e l l i g e n t a!. Lover that knows no weariness! when a l l stars Turn up to thee t h e i r b e a u t i f u l bright eyes, And pause f o r j o y , — m e t h i n k s thy very godhead, On i t s caressing firmanent must lean, O'ercome with love! My soul ascends to t h e e ; — Thou, i n f i n i t e i n Knowledge, must be happy; Time sounds of l i f e , which scare us l i s t e n i n g here, Shaking our f a i t h with t h e i r unanswered plalnings, Play sweetly unto thine eternal mind, The discords of one deepening harmony!" The expectation of some answering, shaded Egremond*s face; again he hailed the moon;— "How hast thou made the sky l i k e one f a i r flower! Laying aside thy vestments, so that heaven, And the v a l l e y s , and the h i l l s , and the floods of earth Gaze on thine unveiled l o v e l i n e s s , expressing Their ravishment i n one soft smile. Like thee, do I ar i s e i n l i f e ' s dark night, But not l i k e thee, f a i r moon! would I descend Down i n my heaven, but when I s h a l l reach The zenith of my glory, from the top I would outspread a p a i r of angel wings, And soar to God, Yea, presently, must I die! When ended my creation, wherefore l i f e ; A l i f e of conservation metes not me, I know creation rapture; what, creation, Save harmonizing elements!" "Yes, God!" He c r i e d , and sprang into unsheltered space; "I claim, by v i r t u e of the peace I make, Some dim, disorganized, s u l l e n star, That I may be to i t i n place of thee, Teaching i t s heart a l l musics; through thy worlds Dismiss me glorying!" His eyes wild ri o t e d ; his brow upturned P a l l i d l y grand against the vast empyrean, As though he heard, echoing from star to star, The voice of deity cry, "Come up hither," To a P e r s o n i f i c a t i o n of A r i e l at the Theatre B e a u t i f u l Croucher under old Prospero's power! Ever didst thou hold i n sight that jubilee day, Whose gates should free thee into many a bower, Where boughs drop blossoms, and where wild bees stray; The a l a c r i t y with which thou didst obey Sprang from t h i s very expectancyj and how well, Every expression of thy body did display This one v i v i d motive, might peradventure t e l l , Thy poet, the A r i e l ' s God, the God of Prospero's c e l l , For was no fear on thine obedient brow; Nor pleasuring of the present? eagerly bright, With hope, and not with joy, did i t avow Impatient anxiousness of coming delight; While s t i l l thy swift form f l u t t e r e d f o r f l i g h t , Ever with glanced out head, and bended knees; A b e a u t i f u l restlessness, an earth-bound s p r i t e L i s t e n i n g I t s own heaven-music tinge the breeze, Noticing not earth's sands, heeding not earth• s green trees. A thousand eyes did watch thy r e s t l e s s stay; A thousand ears heard thy fi n e wits r e t r i e v e Repeated promises of thy jubilee day; And as f o r some caged b i r d whose bonds aggrieve, They grieved f o r thee; — b u t when thou didst enweave Into thy song, "Do you love me, master? No!" Oh a thousand hearts did yearn f o r thy reprieve, For they f e l t thy heart with love overflow, And that to expend that love thou didst desire to go, 'fThing of the elements!" b e a u t i f u l l y started Thy touching question; unconnectedly asked; Beauteously unconnect, — f o r when deep-hearted Have questionings long been, from the heart thus tasked, They w i l l gush at any time, unbidden, unmasked; And thy sudden "Do you love me Master? No!" Told us, that though i n cowslip's b e l l thou hadst basked,-Ever since thou hadst served the c h u r l i s h Prospero, Thou hadst deeply longed that love betwixt ye twain might grow. I f a new sound should music through the sky, How would a l l hearing drink the challenging tone; And when thou utteredst thy denying reply To t h i s questioning of love, as A r i e l alone Only could utter i t , suddenly making known New voice, new human music; - then d i d burn Each l i s t e n e r , to divine, ere i t were gone, What feelings toned i t ; though none might learn, How many divine, and deep, i n that sweet "No" d i d yearn. And when old Prospero's farewell set free, Heavens! how we rose, as brake thy farewell singing Richly and strong, to h a l l thy beauteous glee; We saw thee bend, as though even homeward winging; We saw thine eyelids quiver beneath the springing Anew to thine heart, of the memory of thy l i f e , Where the "bee sucks, where summer sounds are ringing; M e r r i l y , merrily abandoning, rose thy s t r a i n , And our hearts d i d sink with b l i s s e'en while thy f l i g h t did pain. L i f e Oh! who said that l i f e was a vanishing show! A cheat to humanity given! How could he be poet, when poets, we know, Can change even H e l l into Heaven! Oh! how could he slander my b e a u t i f u l world, So s o f t l y and b r i l l i a n t l y changing; Over each fading scene f a i r e r hues are unfurled, So that fancy may ever go ranging. Oh l o v e l y i s the green green earth, With stars around her beaming! And glorious Is a mortal's b i r t h , For l i f e i s more than dreaming. He sighed that the blossoms of beauty and youth Should brighten the path to a tomb; Why did he forget that t h e i r goodness and truth, Would shine on and soften i t s gloom! Would shine on and soften? sweet minstrel! - no rather Would change to a sweet quiet shade, That haven of rest where m o r t a l i t i e s gather, Like babes, i n a calm cradle l a i d ! Oh l o v e l y i s the green green earth, With stars around her beaming; And glorious i s a mortal's b i r t h , For l i f e i s more than dreaming. A Christian's Drinking Chaunt Oh! the world i s a place where the happiest of things Is to b l i n d one's eyes to the c r u e l g u i l e , That looks with a thousand ready stings Often under the b e a u t i f u l smile; And the f i n e s t of magics to dim the sight, Is the wine, the wine, the wine we pour! Then drink! and dreamthat the world goes r i g h t ; Oh drink! and dream that we'll doubt no more. They t e l l us the s i l l i e s t of things i s to t r u s t , I f i t be not yet s i l l i e r , disgust to show; We give to them back, that trust we must, For i t Is the most b e a u t i f u l pleasure we know; Let them nickname i t f o l l y , and sober, depart; -The wine, the wine, the wine we pour! That glorious young f o l l y s h a l l rouse i n each heart, To make ancient music, and f l i n g wide the door. The wine cups are foaming, our brows shine delight; The world raves behind us; a r i s e we, a r i s e ! Drink deep our contempt f o r each low-hearted wight, Who prefers sober sneers to our love-bedimmed eyes! Again, f i l l again, a l l together, drink again, To t h i s wine, t h i s wine, t h i s swine we pour! I t r o l l s to our l i p s , and i t woos us to drain; And we k i s s as we drink, and each k i s s yearns f o r more. The sober ones say, when t h i s wine-dream has passed, We s h a l l each doubt the other, be deceived, and deceive; Is i t so! - then exhaust we our joys while they l a s t , And wring from the hour what weeks can't r e t r i e v e . Sober l i f e comes amain with i t s cares and gloom; But the wine, the wine, the wine we pour! Now i s ours! and defying;the worst that can come, Over time and fate conquering, drink, drink to the core! Unpublished l e t t e r s which r e l a t e to the attempt to revive i n t e r e s t i n Jones* poetry i n 18?8. They are included i n the Angeli Papers located i n the Special Collections d i v i s i o n of the University of B r i t i s h Columbia l i b r a r y . My dear S i r Very welcome to me was your note which I found at the O f f i c e i n the C i t y yesterday. For i t s own sake and that of the subject i t revives. Seeing the word •prompt' i n your note I did not leave my desk u n t i l I had acted on your suggestion to write to your f r i e n d Mr. Theodore Watts — a n d i f at home he w i l l have received my note at Putney l a s t n i g h t : — I gladly availed myself of your kind introduction and knowing that his o f f i c i a l address i s 18 Bedford How I proposed to c a l l on him there — i f that w i l l s u i t Mr. Watts — a s i t w i l l me, any day and how he may appoint. I w i l l take with me my own copy of the 'Studies" & i t Is marred with youthful j o t t i n g s of my own — a l l those years ago — b u t i s the only copy accessible to me just now --and i t i s complete. I am sorry you have l o s t the copy you had, as t h i s s o l i t a r y and i l l - s t a r r e d book i s scarce now — a n d seems to have disappeared from the book-s t a l l s . The "borrowers" have dealt heavily with me a l s o — but t h i s has escaped them '^-though i t too has been lent I see but to one who p e n c i l l e d i n i t where i t came from— fo r return. Would that a l l borrowers were as conscien-tious as that! Jones had several copies but some have been given --some lent --to the non-returning ones. Yet I think — n a y I f e e l sure --that i n a box f u l l of "Ghosts* as I term r e l i c s & old l e t t e r s etc I s h a l l f i n d —when I can nerve myself to search -—another copy which I w i l l ask you kindly to accept from me when Mr. Watts has i n his own time done with the copy I w i l l leave with him. I know nothing of Mr. Shepherd or his 'pamphlet* about my brother. But I thank you fo r t e l l i n g me of i t . I never heard my brother mention a Mr. Shepherd. L i n t o n — Sumner Jones: D.G. Rossetti AP 1*44 [no address] Sunday, 8 Sept. 1878 always a shy man — a n d since I became a Widower have p o s i t i v e l y shunned society --but I can assure you that I have often wished to see you since your notice of 8 years ago i n N. & Q. and to thank you i n person f o r i t — as I did by l e t t e r --the moment i t came to my knowledge. Mr. Watts - and I do thank you so much for having i n t r o -duced me to him - w i l l I know have reported to you f a i t h -f u l l y that I said I should consider i t an honour to meet you — b u t I f e l t the l4t h Sept was coming on, always a very t r y i n g time f o r me. Now that has gone into past E t e r n i t y less p a i n f u l l y f o r me than i n any year since my brother died - and I should be a churl indeed I f on any other ground I could even d a l l y with your kind i n v i t a t i o n to come and dine with you & Mr, Watts, Your clause •without any ceremony' which I d i s l i k e clenched the matter, and i t w i l l give me great pleasure to come on Sunday next the 2 2 n d l n s t . — p r e s e n t i n g myself about 6p.m. i f that day and hour w i l l be agreeable to you. I w i l l not a f f e c t to waive aside what you say about "Burns" f o r i t i s one of the few things I have written that pleased me at the time and does s t i l l --though I spy plenty of l i t t l e f a u l t s i n the wording. Mr. Holmes and Lord Lytton to whom knowing them I sent copies said very nice things to me about i t — b u t Eben's good word pleased me" most as he put his fi n g e r on "The Bruce i s out" and some other verses. At the time the other piece was written which ought to be shorn of the word 'ode'. I do r e a l l y think I saw (whether I had the power or not i s another thing) how. to put things as i t were i n trans-f i g u r i n g l i g h t & so deal with them --but that i s an age ago, and I have never put anything i n type but those two things —& what you sent f o r me to St. Paul's, and the •Two M i l l i o n a i r e s ' i n that Magi also. Your meeting me so kindly i n what i s being done f o r my dear dear brother ( i n fact you set i t a l l on foot) has given me courage to dive into my Mortuary Box — a n d I have found a f a i r l y clean copy of the 'Studies' there which I s h a l l be happy to bring with me on Sunday with a 'Burns' i n i t . And now just l e t me come to what i s at t h i s moment next my heart. Is i n fact my reason f o r w r i t i n g at once when as you perhaps see I can scarcely hold my pen. You and Mr. Watts and myself have at t h i s moment one object i n common, as regards the 'Studies.* You say his own "Star t i n g Point" a f t e r l a s t week's notice i s a d i f f i c u l t [one] — a n d I see i t too, to some e x t e n t . B u t I think I also see t h i s — i f you w i l l allow me to put i t so. Mr. Shepherd*s notice, who has l i t t l e or nothing to say of his own — f o l l o w e d by your Brother's notice who says well what he says - i n re the poems — s t i l l leaves room to s t y l e which I have found sometimes In tr i b u t e s to the dead, and f e l t was a f a l s e note. I t comes simply, sweetly --as wings beat — a s flowers grow» — s o came the words —"No bolder heart than h i s ever beat i n the breast of poet or s o l d i e r " — a n d so went into my heart a t h r i l l of s a t i s f a c t i o n as I read those words. They are so absolutely true. They form such a consummate epitaph f o r my brother's l i f e --from his'You s h a l l not!' of h i s c h i l d school days to the moment when he breathed his l a s t . Nothing said about his poetry --nothing about what he might, could, would, or should have done —comes home to me l i k e those words. You w i l l now & Mr. Watts also,be able to somewhat understand the r e l i e f to me as compared with my dumb s t i f l e d f e e l i n g from i 8 6 0 — I 8 7 O and again from 1870 - I878. Instead of a l l that, so chaotic, suppressed, formless and dark --there i s now form and atmosphere and colour, and the breath of l i f e and love i n t h i s Memorial of my brother by your f r i e n d . The dead cannot give thanks unless as one might f i n a l l y deem by turning round to a s t i l l deeper root —when f a i t h and honour s h i e l d from attack the forgotten name — b u t the l i v i n g , they can give thanks and were i t but f o r t h i s alone — I count i t well, and more than well, to be among the l i v i n g to-day. I have written several times to Mr. Watts during my 3 weeks sojourn with two of my daughters i n t h i s place, and on one occasion, a f t e r reading i n the Athenaeum f o r October 5th Your Sonnet & [ i l l e g . ] others i n which i s framed your "Fiammetta" —which I have been p r i v i l e g e d to see and which, as I t o l d Mr. Watts has been a haunting loveliness to me ever since I beheld her face. Your Sonnet wonderfully i l l u s t r a t e s the picture, even to me, who have seen i t — a n d heard you describe, on an occasion which i s often i n my mind, --And w i l l be often and Is now-as I am preparing myself on Monday next the 21st to re-enter t h i s soulless world i n which I have to dwell — a n d see Faces from which I shrink. But not as I l a s t l e f t i t s h a l l I return, but rather with the sweet consciousness that what tr u t h and love both desired should be done has now been done and great a n d a b i d i n g i s the s a t i s f a c t i o n to me and my daughter --who has been intensely interested i n what has been done f o r her Uncle's memory and f o r my sake. Believe me My dear Mr. Rossetti Very s i n c e r e l y yours Sumner Jones. A chronological arrangement of anthologies which include one or more of Jones' poems. I860. Allingham, William. Nightingale Valley, p. 263. "When the World i s Burning." 1882. Caine; Thomas H a l l . Sonnets of Three Centuries, p. 31^. "High Summer." 1883. Sharp, William. Sonnets of t h i s Century, p. 113. "High Summer." 1884. Linton, William James and Stoddard R.H. English VerseI L y r i c s of the XlXth Century, pp. 237-8. "Rain," "When the World i s Burning." 1891-5. Miles, A l f r e d H. The Poets and the Poetry of  Century, V, pp. 18-35. "The Hand," "Rain," "The Face," "When the World i s Burning," "My Wife and Child , come close to Me," "A Winter Hymn to the Snow," "To Death." 1895. Stedman, Edmund Clarence. A V i c t o r i a n Anthology  1837-1895. P. 157. "Song of the Kings of Gold." 1919. Quiller-Couch, Arthur. The Oxford Book of V i c t o r i a n  Verse, pp. 348-351. "When the World i s Burning," "The Hand." 1949. Evans, Marjorie. An Anthology of V i c t o r i a n Verse, p. 130. "When the World i s Burning." 1964. Haywood, John. The Oxford Book of Nineteenth Century English Verse, pp. 6I9 - 6 I 3 . "A Develop-ment of Idiotcy," "A Winter Hymn to the Snow." 1969. MacBeth, George. The Penguin Book of V i c t o r i a n  Verse, pp. 153-157. "A Development of Idiotcy." 


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