[The
City of Montreal is one of the most rising and, in many respects, most
agreeable on the American continent, but its inhabitants are as yet too busy
with commerce to care greatly about the masterpieces of old Greek Art. A cast
of one of these masterpieces—the finest of the several statues of Discoboli, or
Quoit-throwers—was found by the present writer in the Montreal Museum of
Natural History; it was, however, banished from public view, to a room where
were all manner of skins, plants, snakes, insects, &c., and in the middle
of these, an old man, stuffing an owl. The dialogue—perhaps true, perhaps
imaginary, perhaps a little of one and a little of the other—between the writer
and this old man gave rise to the lines that follow.]
Stowed away in a Montreal
lumber-room,
The Discobolus standeth, and
turneth his face to the wall;
Dusty, cobweb-covered, maimed, and
set at naught,
Beauty crieth in an attic, and no
man regardeth.
O God! O Montreal!
Beautiful by night and day,
beautiful in summer and winter,
Whole or maimed, always and alike
beautiful,—
He preacheth gospel of grace to the
skins of owls,
And to one who seasoneth the skins
of Canadian owls.
O God ! O Montreal!
When I saw him, I was wroth, and I
said, "O Discobolus!
Beautiful Discobolus, a Prince both
among gods and men,
What doest thou here, how earnest
thou here, Discobolus,
Preaching gospel in vain to the
skins of owls ?"
O God! O Montreal!
And I turned to the man of skins,
and said unto him, " Oh! thou man of skins,
Wherefore hast thou done thus, to
shame the beauty of the Discobolus?"
But the Lord had hardened the heart
of the man of skins,
And he answered, "My
brother-in-law is haberdasher to Mr. Spurgeon."
O God ! O Montreal!
"The Discobolus is put here
because he is vulgar,—
He hath neither vest nor pants with
which to cover his limbs;
I, sir, am a person of most
respectable connections,—
My brother-in-law is haberdasher to
Mr. Spurgeon."
O God ! O Montreal!
Then I said, "O brother-in law
to Mr. Spurgeon's haberdasher!
Who seasonest also the skins of
Canadian owls,
Thou callest 'trousers' 'pants,'
whereas I call them 'trousers,'
Therefore thou art in hell-fire,
and may the Lord pity thee!
O God ! O Montreal!
"Preferrest thou the gospel of
Montreal to the gospel of Hellas,
The gospel of thy connection with
Mr. Spurgeon's haberdashery to the gospel of the Discobolus?"
Yet none the less blasphemed he
beauty, saying, "The Discobolus hath no gospel,—
But my brother-in-law is
haberdasher to Mr. Spurgeon."
O God ! O Montreal!
