g power of mystery. They even consider it a principal test of
a good story that the plot should be impenetrable, and the final result
concealed up to the last page. Tension and excitement are agreeable,
even when the subject itself is somewhat painful. We observe this in a
tragedy, and it is a common saying some people are never happy except
when they are miserable. Such is the constitution of the mind; and the
fact that enjoyment can be obtained when we should expect the reverse,
is noteworthy with reference to the ludicrous. All mystery causes a
certain disquietude, but if the problem seems to us capable of being
solved, it begets an agreeable curiosity. On its resolution the
excitement ceases, and we only feel a kind of satisfaction, which,
though more unalloyed, gives less enjoyment than mystery, inasmuch as
it produces less mental and physical commotion. This tendency in the
mind to find pleasure in complexity was observed even by Aristotle.

Experience teaches us that no literary style is attractive without a
certain interlacing of thoughts and feelings. The sentiments which are
most treasured and survive longest, are those which are conveyed rather
in a complex than simple form--emotion is thus most quickened, and
memory impressed. The beauty and charm of form lie greatly in its
bringing ideas closer together, and succinctness implies fulness of
thought. Thus a vast number of paradoxical expressions have been
generated, which are far more agreeable than plain language. We speak of
"blushing honours," "liquid music," "dry wine," "loud" or "tender
colours," "round flavour," "cold hearts," "trembling stars," "storms in
tea-cups," and a thousand similar combinations, putting the abstract for
the concrete, transferring the perception of one sense to another,
intermingling the nomenclature of arts, and using a great variety of
metaphorical and even ungrammatical phrases. Poets owe much of their
power to such combinations, and we find that allusions, which are
confessedly the reverse of true, are often the most beautiful, touch the
heart deepest, and live longest in the memory. Thus the lover delights
to sing--

"Why does azure deck the sky?
'Tis to be like thine eyes of blue."

Poetry has been called "the conflict of the elements of our being," and
it is a mark of genius to leave much to the imagination of the reader.
The higher we soar in poetry and the nearer we approach the sublime, the
more the distance betw