contemplating its beauties. In his pithy way the poet describes a man
who, though possessed of some good qualities, evidently did not know how
to use them. Though the poet has never yet touched upon politics, yet
the careful reader will find that the hero of the sketch must have been
a young Democrat, since he is made to appear very nimble, and has a
fondness, partial to himself, of getting into rather thorny places. What
led him into those dangerous places we have very little chance of
knowing. "He was wondrous wise," saith the poet, and forsooth he jumps
into a bramble-bush, the last place in the world where a _wise_ man is
to be found. But then, perhaps, a tincture of irony flew from our poet's
pen; the hero was wise in his own esteem, perhaps; or was wise in the
opinion of his friends, whose wisdom seemed to be consummated in doing
something ridiculous.

It is very fortunate for the social welfare of community that all its
actions should not be sublime. Mankind would become too serious and
morose and cynical, and life would be a burden. The ridiculous makes it
enjoyable, but at the expense of those who cause the ridicule. Man
_must_ laugh, no matter what the cost to the object laughed at.

Ordinary intelligence would have decided the fate of the wise individual
who found no other use for his eyes but to scratch them out in a
bramble-bush. But our poet dealeth otherwise with his portraits. He
shows us the fate of an overwrought, badly instilled wisdom; yet when
that wisdom has been deserted by its cause, the promptings of a heart,
pure at the core, hold up to contempt the mad teachings of the sophist.

"When he saw what he had done,"

continues the poet, in a sense not entirely literal, for reasons which