60 February — Thomson, 



of their work. And I think that no poets are farther 

 removed from ourselves than those of the eighteenth 

 century. There is Thomson, for instance ; how difficult 

 it is to read him without being arrested at every page 

 by a too clear perception of the minor tricks or ficelles 

 of his craft ! At the time he wrote, these were the 

 accepted and customary ficelles, and probably attracted 

 so little attention in themselves that the mind of the 

 reader was left perfectly free to enjoy the thoughts 

 and imagery of the poet; but to us the work is old- 

 fashioned, and strikes us as we are struck by whatever 

 is just old-fashioned enough to be passe" de mode. And 

 yet, although his descriptions are not treated on the 

 same principles as ours, although he has not learned 

 the more temperate and perfect art which has resulted 

 from a completer culture than the culture of his time, 

 and has not been aided (as contemporary work is aided) 

 by the development of the modern school in painting, 

 there is still great force in his most finished passages. 

 The episode of the man lost in the snow is one of the 

 best of these : — 



1 As thus the snows arise ; and foul and fierce 

 All Winter drives along the darkened air ; 

 In his own loose-revolving fields, the swain 

 Disastered stands : sees other hills ascend, 

 Of unknown, joyless brow ; and other scenes, 

 Of horrid prospect, shag the trackless plain ; 

 Nor finds the river, nor the forest, hid 

 Beneath the formless wild ; but wanders on 

 From hill to dale, still more and more astray ; 

 Impatient flouncing through the drifted heaps, 



