Selectness he would replace with
simplicity. No doubt he went too far. That is of small moment.
Exaggeration and over-emphasis have their place in the scheme of things.
A thunderstorm may be wanted to clear the air, and if it does
incidentally some slight damage to crops and trees it is of no use
grumbling.

But in the main Whitman's theory of Art was very true and finely
suggestive, and is certainly not the view of a man who cares for nothing
but the wild and barbaric.

"The art of Art, the glory of expression, and the sunshine of the
light of letters is simplicity. Nothing is better than simplicity,
nothing can make up for excess or for the lack of definiteness. To
carry on the heave of impulse, and pierce intellectual depths, and
give all subjects their articulations, are powers neither common nor
very uncommon. But to speak in literature with the perfect rectitude
and insouciance of the movements of animals and the unimpeachableness
of the sentiment of trees in the woods, and grass by the woodside, is
the flawless triumph of Art."

A fitting attitude for a Poet of Democracy, one likely to bring him into
direct contact with the broad, variegated stream of human life.

What perhaps he did not realize so clearly is that Nature, no less than
Art, exercises the selective facility, and corrects her own riotous
extravagance. And thus on occasion he falls into the very
indefiniteness, the very excess he deprecates.

The way in which his Art and democratic spirit correspond suggests
another, though less unconventional poet of the Democracy--William
Morris. The spaciousness the directness, the tolerance that characterise
Whitman's work are to be found to Morris. Morris had no eclectic
preferences either in Art or Nature. A wall paper, a tapestry, an epic
were equally agreeable tasks; and a blade of grass delighted him as fully
as a sunset. So with men. He loved many, but no one especially.
Catholicity rather than intensity characterised his friendships. And,
like Whitman, he could get on cheerfully enough with surprisingly
unpleasant people, provided they were working for the cause in which he
was interested. {197} That is the secret. Whitman and Morris loved the
Cause. They looked at things in the mass, at people in the mass. This
is the true democratic spirit. They had no time, nor must it be
confessed any special interest--in the individual as such. What I have