‘Poems by Charles Kingsley 
Tus is the title of a small book, first published (by 
the Author’s friend, Mr. Macmillan) in 1871 ; a small book 
and all pure gold. Kingsley once wrote in answer to a 
friend’s letter, ‘‘You are not wise in rating my work high. I 
feel in myself a deficiency of discursive fancy. I ean put into 
singing words the plain things I see and feel, but the power 
of metaphor and analogue, the instructive vision of con- 
nections between all things in heaven and earth, is very 
weak in me. But I believe you are quite right in saying 
that my poetry is all of me which will last. Except 
perhaps my ‘ Hypatia.’’’ He agrees with his friend’s 
judgment, modestly but we may be sure sincerely. And 
he had true insight. Good as the other novels are they 
begin to lose their vogue ; yet ‘‘ Hypatia ’’ stands apart 
and will surely live. And the poems are already becoming 
classical ; in their own kind they are not surpassed. 
In their own kind ; it is remarkable that in this letter 
Kingsley shews also a certain blindness about his own 
genius. ‘The simplicity and directness of these poems are 
their excellence. More of the ‘‘ metaphor and analogue ”’ 
would spoil them. The lyrics are things by themselves. 
No one has written poetry like them. ‘‘ The Saint’s 
Tragedy’’ and ‘‘Saint Maura’’ are highly characteristic of 
the author’s mind, but they do not quite reveal his essential 
poetic self. If anyone were making acquaintance with 
Kingsley’s poems for the first ‘time he should begin with 
the lyrics, and read on and on, simply for enjoyment, not 
stopping to ask questions, though he will be sure to pause 
more and more frequently as he goes on to let the enjoyment 
sink into his soul. He should read as the poet seems to 
have sung. Many aman, even though divergent prejudices 
prevent his being in full sympathy with Kingsley, takes up 
the poems of an evening and reads half through the night, 
forgetting prejudice and self and the passing hours, carried 
away by their strange, strong, unaffected beauty. 
But questions will presently arise, and our enjoyment 
will be deepened by considering them—where, when, and 
why were these poems written? The book of poems itself 
answers these questions in part, for the year and place is 
noted at the end of each piece. ‘To one who has read 
Charles Kingsley, his letters and memories of his life, 
edited by his wife ’’ (2 vols,, King, 1876), these notes are 
