Part 8
I had determined, as this time Paris was a means and not an end, being merely incidental to my week-end trip, I would not go into the galleries, and perhaps become unduly attached to something I might find there.
A casual visit to the Louvre let me go through several rooms of pictures and statues unmoved, when suddenly I met my Waterloo.
All unexpectedly I came upon the _Venus of Milo_. It was a revelation. The casts and photographs I had hitherto seen of it I now discovered to be no more like the original statue than the moon is like the sun.
The form, perhaps, is not so inadequately represented, but the face, as shown in cast or picture, is a sadly futile attempt at imitation.
The real _Venus_ has the most marvellous face in the world. There is an ineffable beauty of feature, and an exquisite repose of expression, that betokens no one affection, but the glorification of all that is great and beautiful.
But the fascination is unexplainable. I only know that into that wonderful face I could gaze for hours; but never again do I want to see a reproduction of it, of any sort.
In the Louvre, too, I found the _Mona Lisa_. Here again I had been misled by photographs and “art prints,” and was all unprepared for the witchery of that baffling, bewildering smile. By a queer correlation of ideas, my mind reverted to the _Laughing Cavalier_, and I wondered if these two were smiling at the same thought.
Undesirous of seeing more at this time, I returned to my open, victoria-like cab. Those foolish Paris cabs! They seem so exactly like the vehicle in which Bella Wilfer elegantly sat, when she begged her parent, “Loll, ma, loll!”
But they are fine to see out of, and a city like Paris, made for show, should have cabs of wide outlook.
Paris is an achievement. Its coherent, consequent civic beauty ranks it among the seven beauties of the world. It is as systematically and methodically laid out as Philadelphia—but with a difference!
It is discreet and tactful, and ever puts its best foot foremost, the other probably being down at heel.
It is trim and tripping, where London is solidly lumbering,—but, give me London!
Paris is adorable; London is lovable. Paris is bewitching; London is satisfying.
Paris is to London as lime-light unto sunlight, and as absinthe unto wine. But as the very essence of Paris, is ephemeral, so the nature of London makes for perpetuity; and London is, of all things, a place to go back to.
* * * * *
“_A collection of wholesome and_ _delightful tales_”
The Folk Afield
_By_ Eden Phillpotts
Author of “CHILDREN OF THE MIST,” “SONS OF THE MORNING,” etc.,
Crown, 8vo. $1.50
The variety that characterizes these stories is one of both scene and character, containing stories of love and adventure on sea and land. The backgrounds, laid in with vividness and opulence of color, have for the most part the sunny luxuriance of the South of France, of Italy, and of North Africa. The types of character—heroes, heroines, and supernumeraries are as varied as the settings of the stories. Mr. Phillpotts’ heroines are singularly attractive, now by their beauty and their ardor, now by their gentleness and purity.
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS New York London
* * * * *
_A New Book by the Author of “Lavender_ _and Old Lace”_
LOVE AFFAIRS OF LITERARY MEN
By MYRTLE REED Author of “A Spinner in the Sun,” “The Master’s Violin,” etc.
The love affairs of literary men seem to have an unfailing hold upon the general sympathy, and a stronger hold, it might be said, than the sentimental experiences of any other class of people. In this book, Miss Reed has briefly retold the stories of the lovers of the group of writers who are assured, all of them, of immortal places in English literature. Here we may read of the mysterious, double love affair of Swift with Stella and Vanessa, of Pope’s almost grotesque attempts at the role of lover, of Dr. Johnson’s ponderous affections, of Sterne’s sentimental philanderings, and of Cowper’s relations with the fair sex. We are told too of the loves of Keats and Shelley, a story in the former case distressingly painful, in the latter a tale in which the tragic and the joyous are woven in a mingled web. Here, too, we meet Edgar Allan Poe as a lover; and we read of Carlyle’s wooing, and peruse the unpleasant, but not uninteresting, chronicle of his married life which resulted so unhappily for Mrs. Carlyle.
Crown 8vo, with 20 Portraits, printed in two colors. Cloth, gilt top, net $1.75. Full red leather, net $2.50. Antique Calf, net $3.00. Lavender Silk, net $4.00.
_A complete descriptive circular of Miss Reed’s books sent on application._
G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS New York London
* * * * *
“_A Delightful and Dramatic Story_”
Brown of Harvard
By Rida Johnson Young and Gilbert P. Coleman
A delightful and dramatic story of modern college life based upon the successful play of the same name. It will be found true to both local color and spirit of the University where the scene is laid. A lively and stirring plot, with ingenious and surprising incidents and a striking denouement, seizes the reader’s attention at the start and holds it to the end.
_With 8 Full-page Illustrations from Photographs_ _of the Play. Crown 8vo, $1.50_
G. P. Putnam’s Sons New York London
* * * * *
“_A superb social satire._” Illustrated London News
The Country House
By John Galsworthy
Author of “The Man of Property,” etc.
_Crown, 8vo. $1.50._
“If there is any competition going on for the finest novel of the year, best drawn characters in modern fiction, or the coming novelist, my votes unhesitatingly go to _The Country House_, to _Mr. Barter_, to _Mrs. Pendyce_ and to Mr. John Galsworthy.”
—_London Punch._
“A book that exhibits wide sympathies, genuine observation, and a quiet humor of its own. Whatever Mr. Galsworthy writes possesses an irresistible appeal for the readers of cultivated tastes.”
—_London Standard._
G. P. Putnam’s Sons New York London
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Transcriber’s Notes:
Hyphenation and archaic spellings have been retained as in the original. Punctuation and type-setting errors have been corrected without note.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Emily Emmins Papers, by Carolyn Wells