Various

“ It was the mirrored image of Tchin-Sing. At first she took it for the reflection of a girl, as he was dressed in robes according to the fashion of the time. As the heat was intense, he had thrown off his student's cap, and his hair fell about his fresh, beardless face. But soon Ju-Kiouan recognized, from the violent beating of her heart, that the reflection in the water was not that of a young girl.
Until then she had believed that the earth contained no being created for her, and had often indulged in pensive revery over her loneliness. ”

“ Ju-Kiouan grew in grace and beauty. She was skilled in all lady-like accomplishments. The butterflies which she embroidered upon satin appeared to live and beat their wings, and one could almost hear the song of the birds which grew under her fingers, and smell the perfume of the flowers she wrought upon canvas. She knew the "Book of Odes" by heart, and could repeat the five rules of life without missing a word. Her handwriting was perfection, and she composed in all the different styles of Chinese poetry. ”

“ We never intend to become a man. We keep our boy's heart ever fresh and ever warm. We don't care if the whole human race, from the Ascidians to Darwin himself, assail us and fiercely thrust us once more into short jackets and knickerbockers, provided they allow an indefinite vacation in a daisy field. The joy of childhood is said to be vague. It was all satisfying to us once, and we do not intend to allow it to waste in unconscious effervescence among the gaudier though less gratifying delights of manhood.
It is, however, of daisies among the poets we would speak at more length. ”

“ Our enthusiasm for the daisy then is only equaled by the gratitude it now awakens. Too soon does the busy world, with unwarrantable liberty, allure us from boyish scenes. Too soon are the buoyant fancies of youth succeeded by the feverish anxieties of age, happy innocence by the consciousness of evil, confidence by doubt, faith by despair. We must chill our demonstrativeness, restrain our affections, blunt our sensibilities. We must cultivate conscience until we have too much of it, and become monkish, savage and misanthropic. ”

“ The queen tapped her head with a white stick like a peeled twig, and made such a noise that I examined it, and saw an ivory knob, which reminded me of the budding horns of a young deer. As if in answer to my thought, she said:
"It drops off every year. In the fairy-nature all elements are united. We partake of the animal and vegetable kingdoms, and add our own; this makes us what we are. We do not suffer, but we experience, without suffering, of course; our long lives glide along like dreams. As you are in sleep, so are we awake. ”

“ For, while we believe the others to be equally genuine, they do not impress us as being the best expression of his genius. What we feel most after finishing his volume, what seems to us most characteristic of his poetry, is loveliness—the tender loveliness that lingers in the mind after we have seen the sun-set of a quiet summer evening, or after we have heard music on a dreamy summer night. If this poetic melancholy be treason, the critics may make the most of it. Mr. Winter has nothing to fear. He has the authority of the greatest poets with which to defend himself, and confute the critics. ”

“ The trees and grassy banks were reflected so distinctly that it was impossible to tell where the real world left off, and the land of dreams began. Ju-Kiouan was amusing herself watching the beauteous water-picture when her eyes fell upon that portion of the lake, near the wall, where, with all the clearness of reality, was the reflection of the pavilion on the opposite shore. ”

“ Her dress is of rich white satin, and, with the delicate green and gold sheen of her rival's robe—she with whom the Prodigal's right hand toys in caress—makes up a wonderfully brilliant prismatic chord, having the effect of focusing the richer, but not less gorgeous, pigments spread everywhere on the canvas. The faces of the women are very beautiful, and are made voluptuous by a subtle art which, through all their beauty, tells a story of unrestrained lives of passion and pleasure. ”

“ If there be any happier event in the life of a child than coming out of school, few children are wise enough to discover it. We do not refer to children who go to school unwillingly—thoughtless wights—whose heads are full of play, and whose hands are prone to mischief:—that these should delight in escaping the restraints of the school-room, and the eye of its watchful master, is a matter of course. ”

“ And yet, who would have the heart to slander the daisy, or cause a blush of shame to tint its whiteness? Tastes vary, and poets may value the flower differently; but a rash, deliberate condemnation of the daisy is as likely to become realized as is a harsh condemnation of the innocence and simplicity of childhood. So the chivalric Hunt need not fear being invoked from the silence of the grave to take part in a lively tournament for "belle et douce Marguerite."
Subjectively, the daisy is a theme upon which we love to linger. ”

“ Lacking many of the indoor employments of the women of colder climates, time hangs heavy on their hands, idleness wearies, and they cast about for a way in which to amuse, enjoy, and distract themselves. They find it in love. If no European is near upon whom they can bestow their smiles and the lustre of their magnificent eyes, they have to be content with their own countrymen, who woo them after the fashion of their Spanish ancestors, by serenades at night, in which the strumming of guitars generally plays a more important part than the words it accompanies. ”

“ The dew wetting all the shrubs and flowers distils sweet odors. What a family of moths have rushed in; this big, brown one, with white and red markings, is very enterprising. He has voyaged twice down the lamp chimney, as if it were the funnel of a steamship.
Get out, moth!
"Sho," she answers in a husky voice, as if very dry, "It is my nature to; that's all you know, turning us to moral purposes, and making us a tiresome metaphor. We are much like you human creatures—only we don't compare ourselves continually with others. We just scorch ourselves as we please. ”

“ The magnificence of the mountain region baffles all attempts at word-painting, as it baffles the art of the painter. Church, the artist, gives us what is, perhaps, the best representation we are ever likely to have of it, but it is only a glimpse after all. Still more indescribable, if that be possible, are the enormous wildernesses which stretch from the Andes to the vast pampas to the eastward. "Here everything is on Nature's great scale. The whole country is one continuous forest, which, beginning at very different heights, presents an undulating aspect. ”

“ We think he is too philosophical sometimes, but then the fault may be in us. It may be that we are so accustomed to the materialism of the English critics that we fail, at first, to apprehend the spirituality of this most refined and refining of Frenchmen. No English critic could have written his "Art in Greece," because no English critic could put himself in his place. We know what the English think of Greek Art, or may, with a little reading: what Taine thinks of it is—that it is what it is, simply because the Greeks were what they were. ”

“ Tchin-Sing was aroused from his monologue by the voice of his father, who called him to come at once to the grand saloon.
"My son," said he, "here is a very rich and very learned man who seeks you as a husband for his daughter. The young girl has imperial blood in her veins, is of a rare beauty, and possesses all the qualities necessary to make her husband happy."
Tchin-Sing, whose heart was bursting with love for the reflection seen from the pavilion, refused decidedly. His father, carried away with passion, heaped upon him the most violent imprecations. ”

“ She had never noticed it before, and what was her surprise to behold an exact reproduction of the one where she was standing, the gilded roof, the red and black pillars, and all the beauteous drapery about the doors. She would have been able to read the inscription upon the tablets, had they not been reversed. But what surprised her more than all was to see, leaning on the balcony, a figure which, if it had not come from the other side of the lake, she would have taken for her own reflection. ”

“ The stiffness which generally inheres in translations is wanting; nowhere is there any sense of restraint, but everywhere a delightful sense of ease—the freedom of one great poet shining through the freedom of another great poet, as the sun shines through the sky. It is the ideal English translation of Homer; and we congratulate Mr. Bryant upon having finished it (for we believe he has) ; and congratulate ourselves that it is the work of an American poet. ”

“ Shades of delicately carved ivory, softened the light to a faint opal tint, and all around stood pots of orchis, peonies, and daisies, which filled the air with delicious perfume. Curtains of rich silk were draped over the entrance, and on the marble tables within were scattered fans, tooth-picks, ebony pipes, and pencils with all conveniences for writing.
All around the pavilions were picturesque grounds [pg 15] of rock, among whose clefts grew clumps of willows, their long green twigs swaying on the surface of the water. ”

“ Below, and seated on the rich rugs which cover the marble pavement, musicians and singers pause to listen to impassioned words from a laurel-crowned poet, while further on a sort of orchestra plays time for the sensuous dance of lithe-bodied Oriental dancers—each woman of them more ravishing than the other. ”

“ The face of the magnificent creature at the Prodigal's left hand is a wondrous piece of drawing. It is thrown back against him and from the spectator, in order that she may look up into his face—at the moment a dissipated, spiritless face, without even the flush of the wine which dyes her's so rosily—a face at once weak and weary, and yet revealing a possible intensity, indeed, the face of a French woman who "has lived," rather than that of a man. ”

“ In drawing, color, and composition, rendering of textures, and the exhibition of the resources of the palette, now better known to French painters than ever before, the picture leaves nothing to be desired. The faces of the principal figures are full of that "expression to the life" in which the English are justly considered to excel, while the admirable focus of the groups, the color, and interest, are as un-English as excellent. ”

“ In a crowded car, men instinctively clutch their pockets, and fancy a pickpocket in a benevolent-looking old gentleman opposite. When we see men so distrustful, we shun them. They then call us selfish when we feel only solitary. We protest against such manhood as would lower golden ideals of youth to its own contemptible Avernus. And now as our daisy, which is blooming before us, sagely nods its white crest as it is swayed by the passing breeze, it seems to bring back of itself decades gone forever. ”

“ Winter is the daintiest and sweetest of amatory poets. He has the fancy of Carew, without his artificiality; he has Carew's sweetness, without his grossness of suggestion.
There is a tinge of sadness in some of Mr. Winter's poems, and the critics, we suppose, will censure him for it. If so, they will be in the wrong. The poet has the right to express his moods, sad or merry, and he is no more to be judged by his sad moods than his merry ones. He is to be judged by both, and the sum of both—if the critic is able to add it up—is the poet. ”

“ The virtue of simplicity—always a rare one, and never so rare as at present—he possesses. We have Tennyson, who is not simple; we have Browning, who is not simple; we have Swinburne, who is not simple; and we have Mr. Joaquin Miller, who is not simple.
Mr. Winter's book has its defects—among which we observe an occasional lapse into Latinity—but with all its defects it is a very poetical book. Mr. Winter reminds us, more than any recent American poet, of the English poets of the reigns of Charles the First and Second. ”

“ To Wordsworth, the poet of nature, the daisy seems perfectly intelligible. Scattered throughout the lowly places, with meekness it seems to shed beauty over its surroundings, and compensate for gaudy vesture by cheerful contentment. Wordsworth calls the daisy "the poet's darling," "a nun demure," "a little Cyclops," "an unassuming commonplace of nature," and sums up its excellences in a verse which may fitly conclude our attempt to pluck a bouquet of fresh daisies from the poets ”

“ The boy was named Tchin-Sing, and the girl Ju-Kiouan, that is to say, Jasper and Pearl. Their perfect beauty fully justified the choice of their names. As they grew old enough to take notice of their surroundings, the unsightly wall attracted their attention, and each inquired of their parents why that strange barrier was placed across the centre of such a charming sheet of water, and to whom belonged the great trees of which they could see the topmost boughs. ”

“ If I look out of the window, I only see a strip of sky above me, where neither sun nor moon passes on its journey round the world; and below me, only the stone pavement over which goes an endless procession of men and women, upon a hundred errands I never guess at. ”