open himself more clearly to his friends, and can enjoy more
of what makes life truly valuable - intimacy with those he
loves. An orator makes a false step; he employs some trivial,
some absurd, some vulgar phrase; in the turn of a sentence he
insults, by a side wind, those whom he is labouring to charm;
in speaking to one sentiment he unconsciously ruffles another
in parenthesis; and you are not surprised, for you know his
task to be delicate and filled with perils. "O frivolous mind
of man, light ignorance!" As if yourself, when you seek to
explain some misunderstanding or excuse some apparent fault,
speaking swiftly and addressing a mind still recently
incensed, were not harnessing for a more perilous adventure;
as if yourself required less tact and eloquence; as if an
angry friend or a suspicious lover were not more easy to
offend than a meeting of indifferent politicians! Nay, and
the orator treads in a beaten round; the matters he discusses
have been discussed a thousand times before; language is
ready-shaped to his purpose; he speaks out of a cut and dry
vocabulary. But you - may it not be that your defence reposes
on some subtlety of feeling, not so much as touched upon in
Shakespeare, to express which, like a pioneer, you must
venture forth into zones of thought still unsurveyed, and
become yourself a literary innovator? For even in love there
are unlovely humours; ambiguous acts, unpardonable words, may
yet have sprung from a kind sentiment. If the injured one
could read your heart, you may be sure that he would
understand and pardon; but, alas! the heart cannot be shown -
it has to be demonstrated in words. Do you think it is a hard
thing to write poetry? Why, that is to write poetry, and of a
high, if not the highest, order.