thesis, but the saying stands: "Throw mud and some of it is sure to stick."
It so chanced that none stuck—that the mud, in defiance of all known laws of physical science, recoiled on the throwers. The enemy wrested of course, from their proper and natural place in the book, every picturesque expression, the hardiest details, the most scabrous scenes for the dissecting table of the Court-room, and these things being deemed insufficient, they scrutinised the writer's intentions,tried to surprise the underlying thought,pursuing the idea behind its last entrenchments, across the folds of the author s brain, naïvely surmising what the heroes might have been doing when they were not on the stage!
Ye Gods! They would have a Star-Chamber over again! Men came forward to say Eekhoud, the author of "La Nouvelle Carthage," "Mes Communions," "Le Cycle Patibulaire," and half a score others, wherein may be read, ringing and vibrating, prose-poems of pagan love, page s of tumultuous sorrow, pages consolatory of all pains, sounding depths of profoundest passion, confessing men of all creeds, outsoaring all faiths, eclipsing all religions and shibboleths, could not be the monster represented.
