1 ?* vm CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Voi, VI, MARCH, 1900. No. $. IL/X TT I~tJE& ' ".:<#»' ALFRED TEIHYSOl LITTLE JOURNEYS TO THE HOMES OF ENGLISH AUTHORS: By ELBERT HUBBARD. I 9 ^— .— — — — ,. ^_— M— — — — — M— ■■■■ ■ I I I ■!■ ■■■-■II ■ I -II. ■ ■ Hi l l— ^■il^» •9k The subjects will be as follows : i William Morris 7 Macaulay 2 Robert Browning 8 Byron 3 Tennyson g Addison 4 Robert Burns 10 Southey 5 John Milton ^f*1E^ieridge 6 Samuel Johnson 12 Disraeli §, One booklet a month will be issued as usual, beginning January ist. Hereafter the JOUR- NEYS will be issued by the Roy crofters, instead of G. P. Putnam's Sons, as formerly. The LITTLE JOURNEYS for 1900 will be strictly de luxe in form and workmanship. The type is a new set of antique black face. The initials were designed especially for this work by Mr. Samuel Warner (honest Roycrofter). The paper is English hand-made. The booklets will be stitched by hand wiH silk. A photograv- ure portrait on Japan Vellum will accompany each booklet as a frontispiece. .$ The price of |f|§ll booklets will be twenty- five cents each, or $3.00 for the year. THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora, N. Y. Entered at the Postoffice at East Aurora, New York, for transmission •8 second-class mail matter. Copyright, 1899, by Elbert Hubbard. Cornell University Library The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013560655 Tennyson From the etching "by Raj on PR /^^3>o3B Not of the sunlight, Not of the moonlight, Nor of the starlight ! O young Mariner, Down to the haven, Call your companions, Launch your vessel, And crowd your canvas, And ere it vanishes Over the margin, After it, follow it, Follow the Gleam. — Merlin. ALFRED TENNYSON IHE grandfather of Tennyson had two ALFRED [sons, the elder boy according to Mr. TENNYSON I Clement Scott, being " both willful & {commonplace." Now of course the property & honors & titles, according Ito the Law of England, would all grav- litate to the commonplace boy ; & the [second son, who was competent, duti- Iful & worthy, would be out in the cold Jworld — simply because he was acc- identally born second & not first. It was lnot his fault that he was born second, |& it was in no wise to the credit of jthe other that he was born first. I So the father, seeing that the elder ■boy had small executive capacity, & jno appreciation of a Good Thing, dis- inherited him, giving him, however, a (generous allowance, but letting the Ititles go to the second boy, who was ibright and brave and withal a right jmanly fellow. (Personally I 'm glad the honors went Jto the best man. But Hallam Tenny- Ison, son of the Poet, sees only rank ■injustice in the action of his ancestor ■who deliberately set his own opinion |of right and justice against precedent 5i ALFRED as embodied in English Law ^ As a matter of strictest TENNYSON justice, we might argue that neither boy was entitled to anything which he had not earned, and in dividing the property between them, instead of allowing it all to drift into the hands of the one accidentally born first, the father acted wisely and well. But neither Alfred nor Hallam Tennyson thought so. How much their opinions were biased by the fact that they were descendants of the first-born son we cannot say. Anyway, the descendants of the second son, Hon. Charles Tennyson d'Eyncourt, have made no protest, of which I can learn, about justice being defeated. Considering this subject of the Law of Entail one step further, we find that Hallam, the present Lord Tenny- son, is a Peer of the Realm simply because his father was a great poet, and honors were given him on that account by the Queen. These honors go to Hallam, who as all men agree, is in many ways singularly like his grandfather. Genius is not hereditary, but titles are. Hallam is em- inently pleased with the English Law of Entail, save that he questions whether any father has the divine right to divert his titles and wealth from the eldest son. Lord Hallam's arguments are earnest and well ex- pressed, but they seem to show that he is lacking in what Herbert Spencer calls the "value sense" — in other words, the sense of humor. Hallam's lack of perspective is further in evidence through his patient efforts to explain who the various 5» Tennysons were. In my boyhood days I thought there ALFRED was but one Tennyson. On reading Hallam's book, TENNYSON however, one would think there were dozens of them. To keep these various men, bearing one name, from being confused in the mind of the reader is quite a task, and to better identify one particular Tennyson, Hallam always refers to him as " Father," or " My Father." rijk In the course of a recent interview with Mr. W. H. Seward, of Auburn, N. Y., I was impressed by his dignified, respectful and affectionate references to " Seward." " This belonged to Seward," & " Seward told me," — as though there were but one. In these pages I will speak of Tennyson — there has been but one — there will never be another. S3 ALFRED TENNYSON THINK Mr. Clement Scott is a little severe in his estimate of the character of Tennyson's $ father, although the main facts are doubtless as he states them. The Rev. George Clayton Ten- nyson, Rector of Somersby and Wood Enderby parishes, was a typical English parson. As a boy he was simply big, fat and lazy. His health was so perfect that it overtopped all ambition and having no nerves to speak of, his sensibili- ties were very slight. When he was disinherited, in favor of his younger brother, a keen, nervous, forceful fellow, he accepted it as a matter of course. His career was planned for him : he " took orders," married the young woman his folks selected, and slipped easily into his proper niche — his adipose serving as a buffer for his feelings. In his intellect there was no flash, and his insight into the heart of things was small. Being happily married to a discreet woman who man- aged him without ever letting him be aware of it, and having a sure and sufficient income, and never know- ing that he had a stomach, he did his clerical work, (with the help of a curate) and lived out the measure of his days, no wiser at the last than he was at thirty. £jfc In passing, we might call attention to the fact that the average man is a victim of Arrested Development, 54 and that the passing years bring an increase of knowl- ALFRED edge only in very exceptional cases. Health and pros- TENNYSON perity are not pure blessings — a certain element of dis- content is necessary to spur men on to a higher life $ Rev. George Clayton Tennyson had income enough to meet his wants, but not enough to embarrass him with the responsibilities of taking care of it. Each quarterly stipend was spent before it arrived, & the family lived on credit until another three months rolled around. They had roast beef as often as they wanted it, in the cellar were puncheons, kegs and barrels, and as there was no rent to pay nor landlords to appease, care sat lightly on the Rector. Elizabeth, this man's wife, is worthy of more than a passing note. She was the daughter of Rev. Stephen Fytche, vicar of Louth. Her family was not so high in rank as the Tennysons, because the Tennysons be- longed to the gentry. But she was intelligent, amiable, fairly good-looking, and being the daughter of a clergy- man, had beyond doubt a knowledge of clerical needs, so it was thought would make a good wife for the new- ly appointed incumbent of Somersby. The parents arranged it, the young folks were willing, and so they were married — and the bridegroom was happy ever afterward. And why should n't he be happy ? Surely no man was ever blest with a better wife ! He had made a reach in- to the matrimonial grab-bag and drawn forth a jewel. This jewel was many faceted. Without affectation or 55 ALFRED silly pride the clergyman's wife did the work that God TENNYSON sent her to do. The sense of duty was strong upon her. Babies came, one each two years, and in one case two in one year, and there was careful planning required to make the income reach, & keep the household in order. Then she visited the poor and sick of the parish, and received the many visitors. And with it all she found time to read. Her mind was open and alert for all good things. I am not sure that she was so very happy, but no complaints escaped her. In all she bore twelve children, eight sons and four daugh- ters i$ Ten of these children lived to be over seventy-five years of age. The fourth child that came to her they named Alfred. mi 56 ENNYSON'S education in ear- ly youth was very slight. His father laid down rules and gave out lessons, but the strictness of discipline never lasted more than two days at a time. The children ran wild and roamed the woods of Lincolnshire in search of all the curious things that the woods hold in store for boys rijb The father occasionally made stern efforts to " correct " his sons. In use of the birch he was am- bidextrous. But I have noticed that in households where a strap hangs behind the kitchen door, for ready use, it is not utilized so much for pure discipline as to ease the feelings of the parent. They say that expres- sion is a need of the human heart ; & I am also con- vinced that in many hearts there is a very strong desire at times to "thrash " someone. Who it is makes little difference, but children being helpless and the law giv- ing us the right, we find gratification by falling upon them with straps, birch rods, slippers, ferrules, hair brushes or apple tree sprouts. No student of pedagogics now believes that the free use of the rod ever made a child " good," but all agree that it has often served as a safety valve for pent up emotion in the parent and teacher. The father of Alfred Tennyson applied the birch, and the boy took to the woods, moody, resentful, solitary. 57 ALFRED TENNYSON ALFRED There was good in this, for the lad learned to live with- TENNYSON in himself, and to be self-sufficient : to love the solitude, and feel a kinship with all the life that makes the groves and fields melodious. In 1828, when nineteen years of age, Alfred was sent to Trinity College, Cambridge. He remained there three years, but left without a degree, and what was worse — with the ill-will of his teachers, who seemed to regard his a hopeless case. He would n't study the books they wanted him to. College life, however, has much to recommend it be- side the curriculum. At Cambridge, Tennyson made the acquaintanceship of a group of young men who in- fluenced his life profoundly. Kemble, Milnes, Brook- field & Spedding remained his life-long friends ; and as all good is reciprocal, no man can say how much these eminent men owe to the moody & melancholy Tennyson, or how much he owes to them. 58 ENNYSON began to write verse very young. He has told of go- ing when thirteen years of age to visit his grandfather, and of presenting him a poem. The old gentleman gave him half a A guinea with the remark, " This is the first money you ever made by writing poetry, and take my word for it, it will be the last ! " When eighteen years of age, with his brother, Charles, he produced a thin book of thin verses. We have the opinion of Coleridge to the effect that the only lines which have any merit in the book, are those signed C. T. £jk Charles became a clergyman of marked ability, married rich, and changed his name from Ten- nyson to Turner for economic and domestic reasons. Years afterward, when Alfred had become Poet Lau- reate, rumor has it, he thought of changing the " Tur- ner " back to " Tennyson," but was unable to bring it about -fl^ The only honor captured by Alfred at Cambridge was a prize for his poem, " Timbuctoo." The encourage- ment that this brought him, backed up by Arthur Hal- lam's declaiming the piece in public — as a sort of defi to detractors — caused him to fix his attention more as- siduously on verse. He could write — it was the only thing he could do — and so he wrote. The year he was twenty-one he published a small book 59 ALFRED TENNYSON ALFRED called "Poems, Chiefly Lyrical." The books went a- TENNYSON begging for many years ; but times change, for a copy of this edition was sold by Quaritch in 1895 for one hundred and eighty pounds. The only piece in the book that seems to show genuine merit is " Mariana." Two years afterward a second edition, revised and en- larged, was brought out. This book contains " The Lady of Shallott," " The May Queen," " A Dream of Fair Women" and "The Lotus Eaters." Beyond a few fulsome reviews from personal friends and a little surly mention from the tribe of Jeffrey, the volume attracted no attention. This coldness on the part of buyers shot an atrabiliar tint through the am- bition of our poet and the fond hope of a success in lit- erature faded from his mind. And then began what Stopford Brooke has called "the ten fallow years in the life of Tennyson." But fallow years are not all fallow. The dark brooding night is as necessary for our life as the garish day. Great crops of wheat that feed the nations grow only where the win- ter's snow covers all as with a garment. And ever behind the mystery of sleep, and beneath the silence of the snow, Nature slumbers not nor sleeps. The withholding of quick recognition gave the mind of Tennyson an opportunity to ripen. Fate held him in leash that he might be saved for a masterly work, and all the time that he lived in semi-solitude and read and thought and tramped the fields, his soul was growing strong and his spirit was taking on the silken self-suf- 60 ficient strength that marked his later days $ This hi- ALFRED atus of ten years in the life of our poet is very similar TENNYSON to the thirteen fallow years in the career of Browning. These men crossed and re-crossed each other's path- way but did not meet for many years. What a help they might have been to each other in those years of doubt and seeming defeat ! But each was to make his way alone «^$> Browning seemed to grow through society and travel, but solitude served the needs of Tennyson. "There must be a man behind every sentence," said Emerson. After ten years of silence, when Tennyson issued his book, the literary world recognized the man behind it. Tennyson had grown as a writer, but more as a man. And after all, it is more to be a man than a poet 4§t All who knew Tennyson, and have written of him, especially during those early years, begin with a description of his appearance. His looks did not belie the man. In intellect and in stature he was a giant. The tall, athletic form, the great shaggy head, the classic features & the look of untried strength were all thrown into fine relief by the modesty, the half-embarrassment of his manner. To meet the poet was to acknowledge his power. No man can talk as wise as he can look, and Tennyson never tried to. His words were few and simple. Those who met him went away ready to back his light- est word. They felt there was a man behind the sen- tence v£e£" 61 ALFRED Carlyle, who was a hero-worshiper, but who usually TENNYSON limited his worship to those well dead and long gone hence, wrote of Tennyson to Emerson : " One of the finest looking men in the world. A great shock of dusky hair ; bright, laughing, hazel eyes ; massive aquiline face, most massive yet most delicate ; of sallow brown complexion, almost Indian-looking, clothes cynically loose, free-and-easy, smokes infinite tobacco. His voice is musical, metallic, fit for loud laughter and piercing wail, and all that may lie between ; speech and specu- lation free and plenteous ; I do not meet in these late decades such company over a pipe ! We shall see what he will grow to." And then again, writing to his brother John : " Some weeks ago, one night, the poet Tennyson and Matthew Arnold were discovered here sitting smoking in the gar- den. Tennyson had been here before, but was still new to Jane, — who was alone for the first hour or two of it. A fine, large featured, dim-eyed, bronze-colored, shag- gy-headed man is Alfred ; dusty, smoky, free-and-easy ; who swims outwardly and inwardly, with great com- posure in an articulate element as of tranquil chaos and tobacco-smoke ; great now and then when he does emerge ; a most restful, brotherly, solid-hearted man." The "English Idylls," put forth in 1842 contained all of the poems, heretofore published, that Tennyson cared to retain. It must be stated to the credit, or dis- credit, of America, that the only complete editions of Tennyson were issued by New York and Boston pub- 62 Ushers rijfc These men seized upon the immature early ALFRED poems of Tennyson, and combining them with his later TENNYSON books, issued the whole in a style that tried men's eyes — very' proud of the fact that " this is the only com- plete edition," etc. Of course they paid the author no royalty, neither did they heed his protests, and possi- bly all this prepared the way for frosty receptions of daughters of quick machine-made American million- aires, who journeyed to the Isle of 'Wight in after days. Soon after the publication of " English Idylls," Alfred Tennyson moved gracefully, like the launching of a ship, into the first place among living poets. He was then thirty-three years of age, with just half a century, lacking a few months, yet to live. In all that half century, with its conflicting literary lights & glares, his title to first place was never seriously questioned. 4jjk Up to 1842, in his various letters, and through his close friends, we learn that Tennyson was sore pressed for funds. He had n't money to buy books, and when he traveled it was through the munificence of some kind kinsman. He even excuses himself from attending certain social functions on account of his lack of suit- able raiment — probably with a certain satisfaction. But when he tells of his poverty to Emily Sellwood, the woman of his choice, there is anguish in his cry. In fact, her parents succeeded in breaking off her re- lationship with Tennyson for a time on account of his very uncertain prospects. His brothers, even those younger than he, had slipped into snug positions — " but 63 ALFRED Alfred dreams on with nothing special in sight. "dji Po- TENNYSON etry, in way of a financial return, is not to be com- mended. Honors were coming Tennyson's way as early as 1842, but it was not until 1845, when a pension of two hundred pounds a year was granted him by the Government that he began to feel easy. Even then there were various old scores in way of loans to liquidate. The year 1850, when he was forty-one, has been called his "golden year," for in it occurred the publication of " In Memoriam," his appointment to the post of Poet Laureate, and his marriage. Emily Sellwood had waited for him all these years. She had been sought after, & had refused several good offers from eligible widowers and others who pitied her sad plight and looked upon her as a forlorn old maid. But she had given her heart to another. Possibly she had not been courted quite so assiduously as Tennyson's mother had been. When that dear old lady was past eighty she became very deaf, and the family often ventured to carry on conversations in her presence which possibly would have been modified had the old lady been in full possession of her faculties. One day as she sat knitting in the chimney corner, one of her daughters in a burst of confidence to a visitor, said, " Why, before Mamma married Papa she had re- ceived twenty-three offers of marriage ! " "Twenty-four, my dear, — twenty-four," corrected the old lady as she shifted the needles. No one has ever claimed that Tennyson was an ideal 64 lover. Surely he never could have been tempted to do ALFRED what Browning did — break up the peace of a house- TENNYSON hold by an elopement. His love was a thing of the head, weighed carefully in the scales of his judgment. His caution and good sense saved him from all Byronic ex- cesses, or foolish alliances such as took Shelley captive. He believed in law and order, and early saw that his interests lay in that direction. He belonged to the Church of England, & doubtless thought as he pleased, but ever expressed himself with caution. It is easy to accuse Tennyson of being insular — to say that he is " the poet of England." Had he been more he would have been less. World-poets have usually been revolutionists, and dangerous men who exploded at an unknown extent of concussion. None of them has been a safe man — none respectable. Dante, Shakes- peare, Milton, Hugo and Whitman were outcasts. Tennyson is always serene, sane and safe — his lines breathe purity and excellence. He is the poet of religion, of the home and fireside, of established order, of truth, justice and mercy as embodied in law. Very early he became a close personal friend of Queen Victoria and many of his lines ministered to her per- sonal consolation. 4§t For fifty years Tennyson's life was one steady, triumphal march. He acquired wealth, such as no other English poet before him had ever done ; his name was known in every corner of the earth where white men journeyed, and at home he was beloved and honored. 65 ALFRED He died October 6th, 1892, aged eighty-three, and for TENNYSON him the Nation mourned, and with deep sincerity the Queen spoke of his de- mise as a poignant, per- sonal sorrow. 66 T was at Cambridge he met Arthur Hallam — Arthur Hal- lam, immortal and remembered alone for being the comrade & friend of Tennyson. Alfred took his friend Arthur to his home in Lincolnshire one vacation, and we know how Arthur became enamored of Tennyson's sister Emily, and they were betrothed. Together, Tennyson and Hallam made a trip through France and the Pyrenees. Carlyle and Milburn, the blind preacher, once sat smok- ing in the little arbor back of the house in Cheyne Row. They had been talking of Tennyson, and after a long silence Carlyle knocked the ashes out of his pipe, and with a grunt said, " Ha ! Death is a great blessing — the joyousest blessing of all 1 Without death there would ha' been no ' In Memoriam,' no Hallam and like enough, no Tennyson ! " ^ It is futile to figure what would have occurred had this or that not happened, since every act of life is a sequence. But that Carlyle & many others believed that the death of Hallam was the making of Tennyson, there is no doubt. Possibly his soul needed just this particular amount of bruising in or- der to make it burst into undying song — who knows ! When Charles Kingsley was asked for the secret of his exquisite sympathy and fine imagination, he paused a space, and then answered — " I had a friend." 67 ALFRED TENNYSON ALFRED The desire for friendship is strong in every human TENNYSON heart. We crave the companionship of those who can understand. The nostalgia of life presses, we sigh for " home," and long for the presence of one who sympa- thizes with our aspirations, comprehends our hopes and is able to partake of our joys. A thought is not our own until we impart it to another, and the confession- al seems a crying need of every human soul. One can bear grief but it takes two to be glad. We reach the Divine through some one, and by divid- ing our joy with this one we double it, and come in touch with the Universal. The sky is never so blue, the birds never sing so blithely, our acquaintances are nev- er so gracious as when we are filled with love for some one Sfjf's*' Being in harmony with one we are in harmony with all. tfjii The lover idealizes and clothes the beloved with vir- tues that only exist in his imagination. The beloved is consciously or unconsciously aware of this, and en- deavors to fulfill the high ideal ; and in the contempla- tion of the transcendent qualities that his mind has created, the lover is raised to heights otherwise im- possible »&G5> Should the beloved pass from earth while this con- dition of exaltation exists, the conception is indelibly impressed upon the soul, just as the last earthly view is said to be photographed upon the retina of the dead. The highest earthly relationship is in its very essence fleeting, for men are fallible, and living in a world 68 where material wants jostle, and time and change play ALFRED their ceaseless parts, gradual obliteration comes and TENNYSON disillusion enters. But the memory of a sweet affinity once fully possessed, and snapped by fate at its su- premest moment, can never die from out the heart. All other troubles are swallowed up in this, and if the in- dividual is of too stern a fiber to be completely crushed into the dust, time will come bearing healing, and the memory of that once ideal condition will chant in the heart a perpetual eucharist. And I hope the world has passed forever from the nightmare of pity for the dead : they have ceased from their labors and are at rest. But for the living, when death has entered & removed the best friend, fate has done her worst ; the plummet has sounded the depths of grief, and thereafter nothing can inspire terror. At one fell stroke all petty annoy* ances and corroding cares are sunk into nothingness $ The memory of a great love lives enshrined in undying amber. It affords a ballast 'gainst all the storms that blow, and although it lends an unutterable sadness, it imparts an unspeakable peace. Where there is this haunting memory of a great love lost, there is always forgiveness, charity and a sympathy that makes the man brother to all who suffer and endure. The indi- vidual himself is nothing : he has nothing to hope for, nothing to lose, nothing to win, and this constant mem- ory of the high and exalted friendship that was once his is a nourishing source of strength ; it constantly 69 ALFRED purifies the mind and inspires the heart to nobler living TENNYSON and diviner thinking. The man is in communication with Elemental Conditions. To have known an ideal friendship, & had it fade from your grasp and flee as a shadow before it is touched with the sordid breath of selfishness, or sullied by mis- understanding, is the highest good. And the constant dwelling in sweet, sad recollection on the exalted, vir- tues of the one that has gone tends to crystallize these very virtues in the heart of him who meditates them. <%t The beauty with which love adorns its object be- comes at last the possession of the one who loves. At the hour when the strong and helpful, yet tender & sympathetic friendship of Alfred Tennyson and Arthur Hallam was at its height, there came a brief and abrupt word from Vienna to the effect that Arthur was dead. The shock of surprise, followed by dumb, bitter grief, made an impression on the youthful mind of Tenny- son that the sixty years which followed did not obliter- ate 3V"*%?V At first a numbness and deadness came over his spirit, but this condition ere long gave way to a sweet con- templation of the beauties of character that his friend possessed, and he tenderly reviewed the gracious hours they had spent together. "In Memoriam " is not one poem, it is made up of many " short swallow-flights of song that dip their wings in tears and skim away." There are one hundred and thirty separate songs in all, held together by the 70 silken thread of love for his lost friend j$t Seventeen ALFRED years were required for their evolution. TENNYSON Some people, misled by the title, possibly, think of these poems as a wail of grief for the dead, a vain cry of sorrow for the lost, or a proud parading of mourn- ing millinery. Such views could not be more wholly wrong »&&> To every soul that has loved and lost, to those who have stood by open graves, to all who have beheld the sun go down on less worth in the world, these songs are a victor's cry. They tell of love and life that rises phoenix-like from the ashes of despair ; of doubt turned to faith ; of fear which has become serenest peace. All poems that endure must have this helpful uplifting quality. Without violence of direction they must be beacon lights that gently guide stricken men & women into safe harbors. The " Invocation," written nearly a score of years after Hallam's death, reveals Tennyson's personal con- quest of pain. His thought has broadened from the sense of loss into a stately march of conquest over death for the whole human race j§t The sharpness of grief has wakened the soul to the contemplation of sublime ideas — truth, justice, nobility, honor, and the sense of beauty as shown in all created things. The man once loved a person, now his heart goes out to the uni- verse. The dread of death is gone, and he calmly con- templates his own end and waits the summons without either impatience or fear. He realizes that death itself 7i ALFRED is a manifestation of life— that it is as natural and just TENNYSON as necessary. Sunset and evening star And one clear call for me, And may there be no moaning of the bar When I put out to sea. The desire for sympathy and the wish for friendship are in his heart, but the fever of unrest and the spirit of revolt are gone. His heart, his hope, his faith, his life, are freely laid on the al- tar of Eternal Love. ! 72 SO HERE ENDETH THE LITTLE JOURNEY TO THE HOME OF ALFRED TENNYSON, AS WRITTEN BY ELBERT HUBBARD : THE TITLE PAGE & INITIALS BEING DE- SIGNED BY SAMUEL WARNER, THE WHOLE DONE INTO A PRINTED BOOK BY THE ROYCROFTERS, AT THEIR SHOP, WHICH IS IN EAST AURORA, ERIE COUNTY, N. Y., IN THE MONTH OF MARCH IN THE YEAR MCM f> LITTLE JOURNEYS TO THE HOMES OE ENGLISH AUTHORS: Series of igoo. EDITION DE LUXE : Each bound in limp chamois, silk-lined, with silk marker, frontispiece portrait in photogravure on Imperial Japan. Hand illumined, signed and numbered by the author. The twelve volumes, $10.00 Single numbers, 1.00 The edition is limited to one thousand copies of each number. * THE ROYCROFTERS, East Aurora, New York. THE ROTCROFTERS ARE A SMALL BAND OF WORK- ERS WHO MAKE BEAUTIFUL BOOKS AND THINGS— MAKING THEM AS GOOD AS THEY CAN. $ THE PAPER ON WHICH ROY- CROFT BOOKS ARE PRINTED IS HAND-MADE, & THE INITIALS ARE ILLUMINED BY HAND. IF YOU LOVE GOOD BOOKS, A CATALOG OF THE ROYCROFT WARES MAY INTEREST YOU. THE ROYCROFTERS, EAST AURORA, N.Y. NOW R E A D y] THE HOUSE OF LIFE a Sonnet Sequence by Dante Gabriel Rossetti II Each of the one hundred and two sonnets begins with a special large initial, hand illumined through- out; stoutly bound in boards, leather back & corners. H Edition limited to nine hundred and twenty-five copies on Roycroft hand made paper, each $5.00. IT The tout ensemble of this book makes it suitable for a wedding present — being a little better in point of typography than our " Sonnets of Shakespeare," al- though not equal to our " Sonnets from the Portu- guese." THE ROYCROFTERS East Aurora, New York P. S. The " Sonnets from the Portuguese " are all sold — it is quite useless to bother us by ordering them. If we had any we would keep them. The orig- inal price was $5, but Bangs recently sold one at auction for $12.50. The ride from Buffalo to New York over the New York Central takes you across the Genesee Valley just above the falls of the Genesee* over the Montezuma Swamp, through which runs the Seneca filled 'out- let of Seneca Lake, across the "extensive Salt fields of Syracuse, through the an- cient City of Rome, stopping at Utica, trav- ersing the beautiful Mohawk Valley and along the Historic Hudson River, landing you at Grand Central Station ipthe center of the second city of the world. A catalogue of the "Four Track Series," a booklet of 32 pages, will be; sent free to any addrj||j|j postage prepaid, on receipt of a one-cent stamp by George H. Daniels, Gen- eral Passenger Agent, New York Centt'alrj Grand Central Station, New York. PR5584.H8T" UnlVers,,yUbrary SlteraSXl 10 the homes of En S |ish 3 1924 013 560 655