A Contrast in Ages.

Evening Post, Volume LXXVII, Issue 73, 27 March 1909, Page 10

A Contrast in Ages.

When a man describes himself as impenibenb, he suggesbs that he is nob fulfiliing expectation. Mr. Comyns Carr, in his foook of reminiscences, boasts himself an "impenitent Vicborian," bhe deduction being that in these Edwardian days one has to risk rebuke if one declares a filial admiration for Vicborian men and things. There are many Victorians still living, and they are generally impenitent; so that Mr. Carr can make sure of sympathisers. On the other hand, ib cannot •be denied that the younger generation, bhe men and women whose minds run on Edwardian lines, are more than a ■little inclined to intolerance of the lasb -age. Some of them are foolish enough ito forget all we owe to Victorian times. They talk as though, we are indebted to nobody and nothing, but have just sprung from earbh self-armed, self-de- ' fended, self-sufficient. Which is absurd. But a good deal of excuse -can be offered for the Edwardian Englishman 'who in all modesty feeis himself cut. adrift from, and in >a measure antagonistic to, the Victorian age. First and ■foremost, it was bhe age immediately preceding his own, and for that very reason the one of all others with which he can have least sympathy. Half the principles he holds dear are the results of reaction againsb Victorian principles. The very furniture his house is furnished withal is a reaction in wood and leather against the wood and horsehair of his fabhers. And jusb as in his satisfaction with this new style in furniture he does perhaps less than justice to the other, so his new ideas prevent his appreciating the ideas these have superseded. A hundred years hence connois- ] seurs may praise and collectors may .ransack bhe curiosiby shops for fine examples of wood and horsehair. A hundred years hence the moral earnestness of the Victorian era will shine out gloriously, while its Philistinism will be forgotten or ignored. Rare specimens, whether of horsehair or earnestness, will be appraised at their historical and archaeological value. Meantime, however, the Edwardian man shudders at the furniture, and against the moral earnestness objects that it was allied with a blurred vision. He can see neither in brue perspective. Unless he be far gone in fanaticism, lie will agree that the Victorians did great martial feats, great political feats, great feats of adventure He will allow that the battles of bhe Crimean war, though they shoujd never have been fought, brought distinction to the British soldier ; and be can hardly bo cold to the nobleness with which the country survived the tragic test of the Indian Mutiny. The Edwardian's blood must thrill when he remembers snch episodes as the Charge of the Light Brigade and the defence of Lucknow. Nor can he be oblivious of the advances made in the government of the people by the people in the same times. Also, he will "recall the briumpbs of exploration ; Livingstone will be among the names that seem to him worthy of eternal honour. Carlyle and Ruskin were two of the master spirits of the Victorian era. Theii claim to represent its strivings' will hardly be- disputed. They are still read, but neither deeply nor widely by the_ new generation. The Edwardian finds that they pile up massive mounds of words, often well-sounding and supei ficially impressive, but discovered on' dissection to conrey little which is both new and feme. Ruskin, fantastic In ideas and applications-; Garlyle, voluble Beyond measure on the smallest provoca^ t-ion. No Edwardian takes Ruskin seriously as an art critic, and his scoldings on other subjects are not illumined by the excessive eloquence of their language. Carlyle continually bangs his pulpit, telling us to be good and honest, and put our whole heart into our work. The Edwardian cries : "These things we know. They are part of us. What we ought to do is plain ; how to do it is what we need telling." Tho Pre-Rapbaelites were the strongest influence m Victorian art. The history of Victorian art is the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood and little else. ZS'ow the Edwardian must acknowledge, unless (aa we have said) he is a fool, the value of the impetus given by this band of revivalists. But, looking at their pictures, he decides, probably against his will that they were all wrong. The god of his art is no Italian, but Velasquez. He swears by the Impressionists. Having lea,rnt from them thab Nature should be painted as the artist Bees her, his ilesh creeps when he beholds canvases on which flowers and grass are delineated as though they svere seen under a microscope, not as they are seen by the paint\ev sitting at sufcrieient distance to compose a picbure. Greab men! Of course they were greab men, the Edwaxdian will cry. Poets, critics, historians, painters, all expressed themselves vigorously and often beautifully. Bub they tell us naught. They expend themselves fob magnificently on the commonplace. They aie nob for us. Tell him nob that such men do not live nowadays. It Is a sore subject, and he may resent the imputation. So much that is fresh, so much that is needed to be Siiid, aud nobody to cay it adequately.l This, is a familiar Edwardian cry. And ib may be thab here on his own ground he is deceiving himself. The , Victorians say we have no big men nowadays. The Edwardian is too apb to agree, fearing to matsure the living whoso reputation is not enhanced by death with those who are both buried and crowned. — Thomas Lloyd, in St. James's Budget.