e no chair, no church, no philosophy."

People talk of Whitman as if he relied entirely on the "staff cut from
the woods"; they forget his rainproof coat and good shoes. Assuredly he
has no mind to cut himself adrift from the advantages of civilization.

The rainproof coat, indeed, reminds one of Borrow's green gamp, which
caused such distress to his friends and raised doubts in the minds of Mr.
Watts-Dunton and Dr. Hake as to whether he was a genuine child of
[Picture: Walt Whitman] the open air. {173} No one would cavil at that
term as applied to Whitman--yet one must not forget the "rainproof coat."

In regarding the work of Whitman there are three aspects which strike one
especially. His attitude towards Art, towards Humanity, towards Life.

II

First of all, Whitman's attitude towards Art.

For the highest art two essentials are required--Sincerity and Beauty.
The tendency of modern literature has been to ignore the first and to
make the second all-sufficient. The efforts of the artist have been
concentrated upon the workmanship, and too often he has been satisfied
with a merely technical excellence.

It is a pleasant and attractive pastime, this playing with words. Grace,
charm, and brilliance are within the reach of the artificer's endeavour.
But a literature which is the outcome of the striving after beauty of
form, without reference to the sincerity of substance, is like a posy of
flowers torn away from their roots. Lacking vitality, it will speedily
perish.

No writer has seen this more clearly than Whitman, and if in his vigorous
allegiance to Sincerity he has seemed oblivious at times to the existence
of Beauty, yet he has chosen the better part. And for this reason.
Beauty will follow in the wake of Sincerity, whether sought for or no,
and the writer whose one passion it is to see things as they are, and to
disentangle from the transient and fleeting the great truths of life,
finds that in achieving a noble sincerity he has also achieved the
highest beauty.

The great utterances of the world are beautiful, because they are true.
Whereas the artist who is determined to attain beauty at all costs will
obtain beauty of a kind--"silver-grey, placid and perfect," as Andrea del
Sarto said, but the highest beauty it will not be, for that is no mere
question of manner, but a perfect blend of manner and matter.

It will no doubt be urged that, despite his sincerity, there is a good
deal in Wh