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The Song of Solomon : and the Lamentations of Jeremiah

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HEBREW ELEGIES 71<br />

makes evident. It paints <strong>the</strong> beauty <strong>of</strong> sorrow. It is<br />

able to do so only because it contemplates <strong>the</strong> scene<br />

indirectly, as portrayed in <strong>the</strong> mirror <strong>of</strong> thought. An<br />

immediate vision <strong>of</strong> pain is itself wholly painful. If <strong>the</strong><br />

agony is intense, <strong>and</strong> if no relief can be <strong>of</strong>fered, we instinctively<br />

turn aside from <strong>the</strong> sickening sight. Only<br />

a brutalised people could find amusement in <strong>the</strong> ghastly<br />

spectacle <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Roman amphi<strong>the</strong>atre. It is cited as a<br />

pro<strong>of</strong> <strong>of</strong> Domitian's diabolical cruelty that <strong>the</strong> emperor<br />

would have dying slaves brought before him in order<br />

that he might watch <strong>the</strong> facial expression <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir last<br />

agonies. Such scenes are not fit subjects for art.<br />

<strong>The</strong> famous group <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> Laocoon is considered by<br />

many to have passed <strong>the</strong> boundaries <strong>of</strong> legitimate<br />

representation in <strong>the</strong> terror <strong>and</strong> torment <strong>of</strong> its subject<br />

<strong>and</strong> Ecce Homos <strong>and</strong> pictures <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> crucifixion can<br />

only be defended from a similar condemnation when<br />

<strong>the</strong> pr<strong>of</strong>ound spiritual significance <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong> subjects is<br />

made to dominate <strong>the</strong> bare torture. Faced squarely, in<br />

<strong>the</strong> glare <strong>of</strong> day, pain <strong>and</strong> death are grim ogres, <strong>the</strong><br />

ugliness <strong>of</strong> which no amount <strong>of</strong> sentiment can disguise.<br />

You can no more find poetry in a present Inferno than<br />

flowers in <strong>the</strong> red vomit <strong>of</strong> a live volcano. Men who<br />

have seen war tell us <strong>the</strong>y have discovered nothing<br />

attractive in its dreadful scenes <strong>of</strong> blood <strong>and</strong> anguish<br />

<strong>and</strong> fury. What could be more revolting to contem-<br />

plate than <strong>the</strong> sack <strong>of</strong> a city,— fire <strong>and</strong> sword in every<br />

street, public buildings razed to <strong>the</strong> ground, honoured<br />

monuments defaced, homes ravaged, children torn from<br />

<strong>the</strong> arms <strong>of</strong> <strong>the</strong>ir parents, young girls dragged away<br />

to a horrible fate, lust, robbery, slaughter rampant<br />

without shame or restraint, <strong>the</strong> wild beast in <strong>the</strong> con-<br />

querors let loose, <strong>and</strong> a whole army, suddenly freed<br />

from all rules <strong>of</strong> discipline, behaving like a swarm <strong>of</strong><br />

;

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