'Here he evidently meant things _are_ what they seem; for in the next stanza he goes on to say: 'Life is real, life is earnest, And the grave is not its goal; 'Dust thou art, to dust returnest,' Was not written of the soul.' Consequently, if life _is_ real and earnest, and the soul is incapable of mortality, things _must be_ what they seem, and the soul _cannot_ be dead that slumbers. And if the soul _is_ dead that slumbers, and things are _not_ really what they seem to be, life _is_ indeed an empty dream.' SEATSFIELD looked puzzled at this. SEATSFIELD: 'You are somewhat hypercritical. Great thoughts must not be trimmed to the exact dialect of business-men. LONGFELLOW reveals important truths; he utters what is pent within him from the impulse of utterance: he tells us that 'Art is long and Time is fleeting;' now some arts are not long, and time often drags heavily. It will not do to be too precise in poetry.' 'But is that sentiment original? Does not one of the ancients say, '_Ars longa, vita brevis_?' and does not that come pretty near to LONGFELLOW'S idea?' SEATSFIELD: 'Yes, Sir, but that is a little criticism which picks out words. LONGFELLOW, or yourself, or any other man, would have arrived at the same conclusion, even had the ancient author never written it.' * * * * * 'We were here interrupted by a call to luncheon; and I take advantage of the break in my journal, to bring this article to a close. More of the SEATSFIELDIANA I reserve for another number, provided the public are not already glutted.'