NGlrlSH AND ^.:sS^_^ MERI ?)JA1TEE^T Kaub ■•^ "' lflifiSB!3B3Siir!>;5ft(»!}iri»l|l!^;j;!l;y!!i)::i!: B.CLARKE Z(p ^SELLERS&STATIONERS STUDIES m English and American LITERATURE, FROM CHAUCER TO THE PRESENT TIME; WITH STANDARD SELECTIONS FROM REPRESENTATIVE WRITERS FOR CRITICAL STUDY AND ANALYSIS. DESIGNED FOR USE IN HIGH SCHOOLS, ACADEMIES, SEMINARIES, NORMAL SCHOOLS, AND BY PRIVATE STUDENTS. BY ALBERT N. RAUB, Ph.D., Ex -PRKSinENT OF Delaware College, AND Author OK "Lessons in English, "I'KACTICAL EN(iLISlI GUAMMAK," "PRACTICAL RHETORIC," "METHODS OF Teaching," "School Manaoement," etc. PHILADELPHIA : R A IT B & CO Copyright, ALBERT N. RAUB, PH. D, 1882. Copyright, 1908. PREFACE. This book has been written because there seems to be a necessity for a work of the kind in order to teach literature successfully. Too often the drill in rhetoric and grammar which our young men and women receive in schools ends with the mere technical drill, without any application of the principles of either science to the critical analysis and study of our literature. The study of literature as pur- sued in the usual way is the study of special biography, and in no way helps the young student either to appre- ciate the classics of our language or to prepare himself for authorship. The object of this book is to present not only a brief biographical sketch of the representative writers, but also a criticism of their work, and, following this, a masterpiece selected from each author's writings, with such explanatory notes appended as seem necessary, and such questions as will lead the pupil to study close- ly and critically not only the beauties, but also the de- fects, of his language, style, and thought. The teacher will of course add many questions which want of space prevents the autlior from inserting. It is thought that a sufficient number of questions, however, have been given to induce the pupil to study each selection with care. Experience in the class-room sustains the author of this work in saying that pupils pursue the study of i PREFACE. literature and classics by this method with great eager- ness and delight. Twenty-seven standard writers have been selected to represent the literature of Great Britain, and twenty- three that of America. The author does not claim that the list is complete: many may differ with liim also in the choice of selections to be studied ; but tlie field from which to glean is so extended that it would be absurd for any one to claim that he alone has made the best choice. To the fifty standard writers have been added the chief contemporaries of each Age, many of whom might properly be included among the representative writers did not the limited size of the book prevent. The book does not aim to be a complete history of English Literature: it seeks, rather, to combine the study of English Classics with the study of the history of English Literature, and thus awaken such an inter- est as will lead the student not only to read biography, but also to seek culture through the study of master- pieces of English style and thouglit. The author desires to express his acknowledgment to various American publishing-houses for permission to make selections from their co]>yright editions of Amer- ican authors; also to Miss Harriet ii. Swineford, Teacher of English Literature, English Grammar, and Rhetoric in the Central State Normal School at Lock Haven, Pennsylvania, whose untiring industry and excellent literary taste have greatly aided him in the productioD Df this book. ALBEKT N. RAUB. Lock Haven, Pa., ) AprU 5, 1882. ) CONTENTS. TABU FiGUBKS OF Speech 9 Origin of the English Langxjagb 14 ENGLISH LITERATURE. I. THE AGE OF CHAUCEE 19 1. Geoffeey Chauceb 19 Sketch of a Poor Parson 23 Contemporaneous Writers of the Age of Chaucer 25 n. THE ELIZABETHAN AGE 26 2. Edmund Spen8eb 28 The Bower of Bliss 31 3. William Shakespeake 34 Tnal-Scene from The Merchant of Venice 36 4. Francis Bacon 47 Essay on Friendship 49 Contemporaneous Writers of the Elizabethan Age 58 III. THE AGE OF MILTON 60 5. John Milton 60 Lycidas 63 Contemporaneous Writers of the Age of Milton 74 IV. AGE OF THE EESTORATION 76 6. John Dryden 76 Alexander's Feast 79 CmUemporaneous Writers of the Age of the Restoration 87 V. AGE OF QUEEN ANNE 88 7 Joseph Addison gg Essay on Cheerfulness 91 The Heavens Declare the Glory of God 97 5 6 CONTENTS. PAea R Alkxankeb Popk 98 Essay on Man, Epistio 1 100 Contemporaneotis Writers of the Age of Queen Anne 105 VI. THE AGE OF JOHNSON 107 9. Thomas Gray 107 Elegy Written in a (Country Churchyard . . . . 110 10. Samuel Johnson ri? The Voyage of Life 120 11. Olivee Goldsmith 128 The Deserted Village 130 12. William Cowpeb 147 Lines on the Eeceipt of my Mother's Picture . . 149 13. EoBEET Burns 156 The Cotter's Saturday Night 159 Contemporaneous Writers of the Age of Johnson 169 Vn. THE AGE OF SCOTT 172 14- LoKD Byron 172 Childe Harold's Pilgrimage 176 Mont Blanc 180 15. Sir Walter Scott 181 Lochinvar 184 The I^y of the Last Minstrel 187 Patriotism 188 16. Samuel Taylor Coleridge 189 Hymn before Sunrise in the Vale of Chamouni . . 191 17. Thomas Moore 196 The Turf shall be my Fragrant Shrine . . . . 198 Those Evening Bells .199 The Glory of God in Creation 200 18. William Wordsworth 201 The Kitten and the Falling Leaves 204 CtnUmporaneoria Writers of the Age of Scott 209 Vni. THE VICTORIAN AGE 214 19. Alfred Tennyson 215 The Charge of the Light Brigade 217 The Charge of the Heavy Brigade 220 20. Elizabeth Barrett Browning 223 Cowper's Grave 225 The Sleep 228 CONTENTS. 7 PAOS 2L Jean Ingelow 229 The Middle Watch 230 Work 234 22. Thomab Babinoton Macaulat 235 The Paritans 237 S3. Chablks Dickbns 243 The Last Hours of Little Paul Dombey . . . . 246 24. William Makepeace Thackeray 252 George III 254 25. Qeoege Eliot 262 Saint Theresa 264 26. Thomas Caelyle 267 Essay on Bums 270 27. James Anthony Fboude 278 The Instructiveness of Eoman History . , . . 279 Contempmraneotis Writers of the Victorian Age 285 AMERICAN LITERATURE. I. THE COLONIAL PEEIOD 298 1. Jonathan Edwabds 298 Meaning of the Phrase " Moral Inability " . . . . 300 Contemporaneous Writers of the Colonial Period 301 II. THE EEVOLUTIONABT PEEIOD 302 2. Joseph Eodman Dbake 302 The American Flag 304 3. Fitz-Geeene Halleck 307 Marco Bozzaris . . . 308 Oontenporaneous Writers of the Revolutionary Period . . . . . . 313 ni. THE NATIONAL PEEIOD 316 4. William Cullen Beyant 317 Thanatopsis 319 B. Heney Wadswoeth Longfellow 324 The Launch of the Ship 328 8. John Q. Whittieb . . . 332 The Barefoot Boy 333 8 CONTENTS. tkam 7 Olivee Wendell Holmes 338 The Chambered Nautilus 340 The Last Leaf 342 a Geoege Banceoft 843 The Hudson Eiver 346 8 William H. Peescott 351 Queen Isabella 353 10. John Lotheop Motley 857 William of Orange 358 11. William Elleey Channing 368 The Sense of Beauty 368 12. Ralph Waldo Emeeson 370 Essay on Goethe 372 Extract 377 13. James Eussell Lowell 378 The Vision of Sir Launfal 380 Extract 384 14. Washington Ieving 385 Ichabod Crane's Eide 389 15. James Fenimoee Coopee 397 The Wreck of the Ariel 399 16. Nathaniel Hawthoenb 406 The Old Manse 408 17. Geoege William Cuetis 414 Aspirations of Youth 415 18. N. P. Willis 418 The Belfry Pigeon 420 19. Bayabd Tayloe 422 Kilinmndjaro 424 20. J. G. Holland 427 The Eeading of PeriodicaJfl 428 21. Donald G. Mitchell 433 First Ambition 434 Extract 438 22 Daniel Webstee 439 Importance of the Union . . . 441 23 Edward Everett 443 The Memory of our Honored Dead 445 Cmftempvraneoua Writers of the National Period 449 STUDIES IN ENGLISH AND AMERICAN LITERATURE. DEFIXITIOlSrS. FIGURES OF SPEECH. A figure of speech is a deviation from the literal form of expression. Figures bear the same relation to discourse that em- bellishments bear to architecture. The figures of speech which are most frequently em- ployed may be divided into two classes : 1, Grammatical Figures; 2. Rhetorical Figures. I. GRAMMATICAL FIGURES. The chief grammatical figures are Ellipsis, Enallage, and Pleonasm. 1 , Ellipsis is the omission of such letters or words aa tre necessary to complete the sense and construction. The ellipsis of letters may be as follows : o. Aphaeresis, or the omission of a letter or letters from the beginning of a word ; as, 'gem for begcn. 10 DEFINITIONS. b. Syncope, or tbe omission of a letter or letters from the middle of a word ; as, lov'd for loved. e. Apocope, or the omission of a letter or letters from the end of a word ; as, tho' for though. Tjie second variety of ellipsis is that of words, par- tic-jlarly connectives. a The omission of the relative pronoun ; as, This it the letter I wrote, for This is the letter which I wrote. b. The omission of the conjunction ; as, Me came, saw, con' quered, for He came, and saw, and conquered. The third variety of ellipsis is that of an entire clause ; as, Astonishing I for This is astonishing. 2. Enallag-e signifies a change of words. The two most common forms of enallage are the fol- lowing : a. The use of one part of speech for another; as, The winds blow soft o'er C'ei/lofi's isle. b. The use of one case for another ; as, A President than whom nojie was more beloved. 3. Pleonasm consists in the use of more words than are necessary ; as, He that hath ears to hear, let him hear. II. KHETORICAL FIGURES. The chief rhetorical figures are the following : 1. Simile; 5. Metonymy; 9. Hyperbole; 2. Metaphor; 6. Synecdoche; 10. Irony; 3 Antithesis; 7. Personification; 11. Climax; 4 Allegory; 8. Apostrophe; 12. Alliteration. 1. Simile is a comparison of ohjects based upon re- semblance; as, Friendship is like the mm's eternal rays. 2. Metaphor is an implied comparison or an abridged Bimile; as, Athens, the eye of Greece, Mother of arts ajid eloquence. DEFINITIONS. 3 1 3. Antithesis is a comparison based upon contrast; as, Ignorance is the curse of God — knowledge, the wing where- with we fly to heaven. 4. Allegory is an extended metaphor, in which the figure runs through an entire work; as, The Pilgrim'g Progress. Among the varieties of allegory are — [a.) Parables, based upon possibilities, as found in the Sacred Scriptures ; [b.) Fables, based upon impossibilities, as found in profane history. Ex. jEsop's Fables. 5. Metonymy is a figure in which one object is de- scribed by the name of another. It may exist in four forms : (a.) Cause for effect; as. Ye have Moses and the prophets. That is, authors for writings. (6.) Effect for cause ; as, There is death in the cup. That is, death instead of poison. (c.) The container for the thing contained; as, The miser loves his purse. That is, purse for moneij. {d.) The sign for the thing signified; as, 7%e pen is the civilizer of the world. That is, pen for literature, or the spread of knowledge. 6. Synecdoche is a figure in which a name is given to an object that suggests more or less than we intend. Synecdoche may take either of two forms : (a ) A part for the whole ; as, No European keel had entered the harbor. That is, keel tor vessel. (6.) The whole for a part ; as. All the world wondered. That is, world for people. T. Personification is that figure in which the attri- butes of living beings are ascribed to things inanimate. Personification may exist in either of two forms : (a.) In the use of an adjective ; as. The rippling, laughing brooks flow merrily on. 12 DEF^^UTJONS. (b.) In the use of a verb ; as, How sweet the moonlight sleep» upon this bank I 8. Apostrophe is a figure in which the absent is ad- dressed as though present. Apostrophe may be — (a.) Pure Apostrophe; as, Absalom I would Qod J haa died for (hee / [b.) Apostrophe combined with Personification; as, EoU on, thou deep and dark blue Ocean 1 roll, 9. Hyperbole is a figure in which the object ia either exaggerated or disparaged ; as, The diamonds in thine eyes might furnish crowns for all the queens of earth. 10. Irony is a figure employed to express the opposite of the idea entertained ; as, For Brutus is an honorable man ; So are they all — all honorable men. 11. Climax is a figure in which the strength of the ^ought increases to the close of the sentence ; as, 77j6 stream of literature has swolle^i into a torrent — augmented into a river — expanded into a sea. 9 12. Alliteration is a repetition of the same initial letter ; as, Amid the lingering light. SENTENCES. Sentences are of two principal classes — Grammatical and Rhetorical. Grammatically, sentences are divided according to form and use. In form sentences are either Simple, Cojnplex, or Cbm- pound. A Simple Sentence is one which contains a single proposition. A Complex Sentence is one which contains a prin- DEFINITIONS. 13 cipal proposition modified by one or more subordinate propositions. A Compound Sentence is one which contains two or more principal propositions. According to their use sentences are either Declarative., I-iterrrogative, Laperatlve, or Exclamatory. A Declarative Sentence is one used to afGrra or deny. An Interrogative Sentence is one used to ask p question. An Imperative Sentence is one used to express a command or an entreaty. An Exclamatory Sentence is one used in exclama- tion. Rhetorically, sentences are divided into Loose and Periodic. A Loose Sentence is one which may be separated into parts without destroying the sense ; as, Leaves have their time to fall, \ And flowers to wither | at the north wind's breath. \ Remark. — Notice that the sentence may end at any one of the three points marked, and make sense. A Periodic Sentence is one in which tlie complete 9ense is not expressed until the close; as, Over and over again, No matter ivhich way I turn, I always find in the book of life Some lesson that I must learn. ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. Inasmuch as the literature of a language is closely con- nected with the history of the people speaking that lan- guage, it is necessary, in order to stud}^ understandingly the literature of the English, to become familiar with those historical events in the life of the English nation which bear immediately on the formation and growth of the language we speak. The origin of the English language is a subject of peculiar interest, not only to the student of English, but also to the student of general literature. Following the ancestral line, he finds himself carried back in imagina- tion to a period dating many centuries before the Chris- tian era, when the western part of Europe was overrun by nomadic tribes that wandered on until their course was arrested by the Atlantic Ocean. These people were called Celts, and were supposed to have come from Asia at so early a period that history bears no record of tlie fact. After tlie Celts had taken possession of England, the country was invaded by the Romans under Julius Caesar. The primitive Britons resisted with all the ferocity of their wild natures, but were finally com- pelled to succumb to the power of the Roman ""^rces. This occurred in the year 55 b. c, and for four hundred years the Romans held possession of the country, during which time tliey succeeded in establishing their laws and customs and in partially civilizing the subjugated Celts. Tliose of the Celtw who refused to acknowledge the 14 ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. \^ Roman sway betook themselves to the mountains of Wales and Scotland, preferring to continue in their bar- barous habits. These rebellious Celts were known as the Plots and Scots of Wales and Scotland. In the fifth cen- tury, when the city of Rome was endangered by the in- cursions of the Goths and Vandals from the north of Europe, the Roman forces were called home to protect the Imperial City. After the withdrawal of the Romans from England, the half-civilized Celts were left in a help- less condition. The Scots and Picts came down from the mountains, and endeavored to take possession of the country. The only resource of the Celts was to call in the assistance of the Anglo-Saxons. On the coast of the Baltic Sea — known in modern geography as Jut- land, Schleswig, and Holstein — lived the Jutes, Angles, and Saxons. These people were pirates, and made fre- quent incursions upon the neighboring coasts. On one of their piratical expeditions to the coast of England they were invited by the Celts to come and protect them against the invasions of the Picts and Scots, The invitation was accepted, and, under the leaders Hengist and Horsa, the Anglo-Saxons not only routed the in- vaders, but also took possession of the country. The Jutes occupied Kent and the Isle of Wight, but their progress was so unimportant that history makes little mention of them. The settlement of the Angles and Saxons in England, about the year 451 a. d., is an important era in the history of the English language, for it was then that the foundation of our language may be said to have lieen laid. The minor kingdoms of England, seven in number, which were esta])lished when first the Angles and Sax- ons took possession of the country, were, in 827 a. d., united into one kingdom, known as the Saxon Hept- archy. The counlry took the name of the Angles, ^4 7i^/g- IC ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH lANGUAGB. land, and the government the name of the Saxons. The Heptarchy had been but fairly established when the coun- try was invaded by the Danes, who held sway twenty- eight years, and who succeeded in subjugating the Sax- ons almost as completely as the Saxons had previously subjugated the Celts. But through the influence of the Saxon king, Alfred the Great, tlie leaders of these two fierce races were induced to yield to a union, by which means the Anglo-Saxon language was preserved, although a number of Danish words were received into its vocab- ulary. Another important epoch in the history of our lan- guage is the year 1066 a. d., rendered so by the invasion of England by the Norman French under William, duke of Normandy. At an early period the Norsemen, from Scandinavia, invaded the northern part of Gaul and took possession, calling the subjugated province Normandy. These people brought with them the bravery, daring, and fortitude of the North, which, being allied with the culture and politeness of the French, produced a people superior to the ancestors on either side. William of Nor- mandy, with his followers, encountered the Anglo-Saxons at Senlac, near the city of Hastings, about seventy miles south-east of London. The Saxons were routed, and the arrogant Norman assumed the government of England. This may be regarded as one of the dark periods in the history of our language, for the Norman French were determined to obliterate every vestige of the Saxon lan- guage. All social intercourse and all business transac- tions were to be carried on in the Norman language. Any business contract made in the Saxon language was to be regarded as illegal. The designs of the Normans might have been effected, were not the laws of Nature more powerftd than those of man. The Saxons and the Normans living on the same soil and being brought to- ORIGIN OF THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE. 17 gether in social intercourse, gradually intermarried, and by this union the Saxon was raised to his proper social po- eition. As a result, the Saxon language again prevailed. The elements composing the English language at this time were the ancient Celtic, the Danish, the Anglo- Saxon, and the Norman French. The union of the Saxon with the Norman element did not take place until the fourteenth century, since which time the lan- guage has been growing and developing, retaining in its grammatical character the Teutonic elements, receiving frequent accessions from the French, the Latin, and the Greek. The English language is therefore composed of many parts, the combinations of which are especially advantageous to the language, supplying the numerous synonyms which render the English so remarkable for flexibility of form and variety of expression. English literature proper may therefore be said to have had its origin during the fourteenth century, though pre- vious to that time the Saxon epic Beoivulf had attained a i)lace in literature, as had also Caedmon's Paraphrase of the Bible, as well as the writings of Bede and the transla- tions of King Alfred. English Literature may, for the sake of convenience, be divided into eight eras, as represented on the monu- ment, page 18. From the close of the fourteenth cen- tury to the middle of the fifteenth is included a period which embraces the reigns of Henry V., Henry VI., Ed- ward IV., Edward V., Richard III., Henry VIL, Henry VIIL, Edward VI., and Mary. During this last-mentioned period, sometimes called the Age of Caxton, little was done to improve the litera- ture of our language. With the exception of Utopia, a prose romance written by Sir Thomas More, scarcely any of the literary productions of the age survive. -^^Oi^IAK AGE, issol^ George Eliot, Dickens, Thackeray, FiX)ude, Maeaulay, Carlyle, Mrs. Browning.. Tennyson, Ingelow. AGE OF SCOTT, 1800-1830. Byron, Moore, Scott, Coleridge, Wordsworth. AGE OF JOHNSON, 1760-1800. Gray, Goldsmith, Burns, Cowper, Johnson. AGE OF QUEEN ANNE, 1700-1750. Pope, Addison. THE RESTORATION, 1660-1700. Dryden. THE COMMONWEALTH, 1625-1660. Milton. ELIZABETHAN AGE, 1550-1625. Bacon, Shakespeare, Spenser. AGE OF CHAUCER, 1350-1400. Chaucer. ENGLISH LANGUAGE. Anglo-Saxon t- Norman French. ^M ENGLISH LITERATURE. I. AGE OF CHAUCER. 13S0-1400. Reigns op Edward III., Richard II., and Henry IV. This may be regarded as tlie transition period of our language from the Old English to the modern form. It has sometimes been called the Resurrection English. Rich streams were flowing into the language from various sources, all of which now began to mingle and harmonize in the formation of modern English. Chaucer, who is the chief author of the period, encouraged his country- men to speak and write their mother-tongue, leaving the Latin and the French to the learned and the court- fol- lowers. As a result, the new language became the speech of all England, and it has so remained to the present day, though many changes have been wrought in it even since Chaucer's time. 1. GEOFFREY CHAUCER, 1328-1400. The chief and, indeed, the greatest literary represen- tative of the age in which ho lived was Geoffrey Chau- cer, the son of a London vintner. By most authorities the date of his lirth is given as the year 1328. He died on the 25th of October, 1400 19 20 STUDIES jy ENG-IJSH LITERATURE. Of Chaucer's early life and education little is known. According to Warton and other authorities, he first en- tered tlie University at Cambridge, but afterward removed to Oxford, where he completed his collegiate studies, and then returned to London. Soon after this he left Eng land, and traveled through France, Holland, and other portions of Continental Europe for the purpose of add- ing to his accomplishments of both mind and manners. Having returned to London, he entered the Inner Tem- ple as a student of law, but on account of his beauty of person and his graceful and accomplished manners he was soon afterward made a page to King Edward III., with a stipend of twenty marks per annum, equal to about two hundred pounds. Chaucer was promoted ra])id]y from one post to an- other in the king's service, and finally he was sent as ambassador on several missions to Italy, where, it is claimed, he met the famous Italian poet Petrarch at Padua. It is thought that this was the turning-point in his career, and that his love for the poetry of Italy inspired him with the desire to become famous as a poet. The Divina Covimedia of Dante, the sonnets of Petrarch, and the tales of Boccaccio, all had their 'in- fluence in forming the captivating style which character- izes the literary work of Chaucer. Even in some of The Cnntcrhnry Tales, the most celebrated of his literary pro- ductions, tins same influence of Boccaccio, the most \)o\- ished and elegant of Italian story-tellers, is discernible. Chaucer's earlier ])roductions were mainly translations from the French and the Italian, but largely changed, and in some cases with such additions as to double the length of the poems. His fame, however, rests almost wholly on The Canterbury Tales, the plan of which seems to have been modeled after Boccaccio's Decameron. In tlie Canterbury Tales, a party of thirty -two " sundry folk " GEOFFREY CHAUCER. 21 meet at an inn and sup together. The landloid suggests that they travel together to Canterbury, and, in order to shorten the journey and make time pass pleasantly, that each shall tell two stories both in going and in return- ing and whoever shall tell the best shall have a supper at the expense of the others, the landlord being the judge who i= to decide as to the merits of the stories. Among the personages represented in the poem are a kniglit, a monk, a friar, a nun, a yeoman, a parson, a merchant, a clerk, a sergeant-of-law, and others repre- senting the English life of the time. Chaucer's chief minor poems are The Court of Love., Tlie Flower and the Leaf, The House of Fame., and Troilus and Cresseide. CEITICISM BY REV. STOPFORD BROOKE. Of Chaucer's work it is not easy to speak briefly, be- cause of its great variety. No one could hit off character better, and in his Prologue, and in the prologues to the several tales, the whole of the new, vigorous English so- ciety which had grown up since Edward I. is painted with astonishing vividness. " I see all the pilgrims in Tlie Canterbury Trt/cs," says Dryden, " their humors, their features, and their very dress, as distinctly as if I had supped with tliem at the Tabard Inn in Southwark." The tales themselves take in the whole range of the })oetry of the Middle Ages — the legend of the saint, the romance of the knight, the wonderful fables of the traveler, the coarse tale of common life, the love-story, the allegcry, the satirical lay, and the apologue. And they are pure tales. He is said to have had dramatic power, but he has none. He is simply our great story-teller in verse. All the best tales are told easily, sincerely, with great grace, and yet with so much homeliness that a child would understand them. Sometimes his humor is broad. 22 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. sometimes si}', sometimes gay ; sometimes he brings tears into our eyes, and he can make us smile or be sad as he pleases. lie had a very fine ear for the music of verse, and the tale and the verse go together like voice and music. Indeed so softly flowing and bright are they that to read them is like listening in a meadow full of sun- shine to a clear stream rippling over its bed of pebbles. The English in which they are written is almost the English of our time; and it is literary English. Chaucer made our tongue into a true means of poetry. lie did more: he welded together the French and English ele- ments in our language, and made tliem into one English tool for the use of literature, and all our prose-writers and poets derive their tongue from the language of The Canterbury Tales. They give him honor for this, but still more for that he was tlie first English artist. Poetry is an art, and the artist in poetry is one who writes for pure pleasure, and for nothing else, the thing he writes, and who desires to give to others the same fine pleasure by his poems wliich he had in writing them. The thing he most cares about is that the form in which he puts his tlioughts or feelings may be perfectly fitting to the Bubject, and as beautiful as possible ; but for this he cares very greatly, and in this Cliaucer stands apart from the poets of his time. Gower wrote with a moral object, and nothing can be duller than the form in u liich he puts his tales. The author o^ J Hers Plouyhman wrote with the object of reform in social and ecclesiastical affairs, and his form is uncouth and harsh. C/haucer wrote b(!cause lie was full of emotion and joy in his own thoughts, and thought that others would weep and be glad with him ; and the only time he ever moralizea is in the talcs of the " Yeoman " and the " Manciple," written in his decay. He is our first English artist GEOFFREY CHAUOEB, 23 SKETCH OF A POOR PAESON. Note. — In general, Chaucer was inclined to write satires on the clergy, but the following, taken from The Canterbwy Tales, is a re- deeming sketch. A GOOD man was ther of reljgioun, And was a poure Parsoun of a toun ; But riche he wa.s of holy thought and werk. He was also a lerned man, a clerk That Christes gospel trewely wolde preche; His parischens devoutly wolde he teche. Benigne he was and wonder diligent, And in adversity ful pacient ; And such he was i-proved oftesithes. Ful loth were him to curse for his tythes, 10 But rather wolde he geven out of dowte, Unto his poure parischens aboute, Of his ofFrynge, and eek of his substaunce. Wyd was his parisch, and houses fer asonder, But he ne lafte not for reyne ne thonder, IS In siknesse nor in meschief to visite The ferreste in his parische, moche and lite. Upon his feet, and in his bond a staf. This noble ensample to his scheep he gaf. That first he wroughte, and after that he taughte, 20 Out of the gospel he tho wordes caughte, Notes. — 5. Christes. In Old 13. ofFrynge, dues English the possessive case was denoted by the termina- tion e.^ or is. 6. parischens, parishioners. 9 i-proved oftesithes, proved ofttimes. j 19. his scheep, his flock. IC curse contend. eek, also. 15. lafte, left or ceased. 17. ferreste, farthest. moche and lite, great and little. Analtsis. — 7. wonder diligent. What part of speech is loonder ' For what word is it substituted ? 8. ful j)acienl. Parse both words, 19. W'lat figure in this line? Give all the modifiers of ernampU. 24 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. And this figure he addede eek therto, That if gold ruste, what shall yren do? For if a prest be foul, on whom we truste No wonder is a lewed man to ruste ; He sette not his benefice to hyre, And leet his scheep encombred in the myre. And ran to Londone, unto Seynte Poules, To scekeu him a chaunterie for soule.s, Or with a bretherhede to ben withholde ; But dwelt at boom, and kepte wel his folde, So that the wolf ne made it not myscarj-e. He was a scheplierde and no niercenarie, And though he holy were, and vertuous, He was to sinful man nought dispitious, Ne of his speche daungerous ne digne, But in his teching discret and benigne. To drawe folk to heven by fairnesse, By good ensample, this was his busynesse. But it were eny person obstinat, What so he were, of high or lowe estat, Him wolde he snybbe scharply for the nones, A bettre preest I trowe there nowher non is. He waytede after no pomj)e and reverence, He makede him a spiced conscience, But Cristea lore, and his apostles twelve, He taughte, and first he folwede it himselve. SB 80 36 40 46 Notes. — 23. yren, iron. 25. lewed, unlearned. 28, Seynte Poules, St. Paul's. Notice the change in the possessive termination. SO bretherhede to withholde, brotherhood to be enroll- ed. 36. digne, high or haughty. 43. snybbe scharply for the nones, snub or rebuke sharply for the occasion. Analysis. — 27. What figure in this line? '28, 29. Point ovit the modifiers of ran. 38-39. What is the subject of the sentence? Show what is id apposition with thi% 44-47. Write these four lines in mfxlem English. CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITERS. 25 CONTEMPOKARIES OF THE AGE OF CEAUCEB. POETS. Robert Langland (about 1332-1400). — A secular priest and & Fellow of Oriel College, Oxford. Author of the Vision of Pier* Ploughman. John Gower ( 1325 ?-1408).— Called by Chaucer "Moral Gow- er." Author of Speculum Meditaniis, Vox Clamantis, and tlie Confessio Amantls. John Barbour (1316?-1396). — A Scotch poet, archdeacon of Aberdeen. His greatest poem is The Bruce. PROSE-WRITERS. Sir John Mandeville (1300-1372).— The earliest writer of Eng- lish prose. Studied for the medical profession. Was a traveler for thirty-four years. His book, Mcmdeville's Travels, was the first English book published. John Wycliffe (1324-1384). — A learned and eloquent preacher. Sometimes called " The Morning Star of the Reformati ^n." Educated at Oxford. His chief Latin work is Trialngus,- his chief English production, the first English translation oJ «>« •fhole Bible. II. THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 1550-162B. Reigns of Elizabeth and James I. This was the most brilliant period in the history of our literature. It produced not only a Spenser, a Shakespeare, and a Bacon, but also a host of dramatic and other poets whose writings would in any other age have placed them in the foremost rank of the literary men of their time. Not only during the reign of Eliz- abeth, but also during that of her successor, King James I., did literary genius put forth its most brilliant efforts. The invention of printing, the study of classical litera- ture, the freedom with which all questions were dis- cussed, the translations from the literature of France and Italy, the revised translation of the Scri])turcs, and the general introduction of the inductive philosophy, — all had a tendency to encourage literary effort and de- velop the literary taste of the age. It was this age also that witnessed the marvelous development of the English drama. The earliest form of the drama in England was that known as the Miracle Play, or Mystery, which was acted in the churches and convents either by the clergy or under their immediate Buporvision. The subjects chosen were usually some striking mystery of Scripture, as the Atonement, the Cre- ation, the Crucifixion, the Deluge, the Resurrection, etc., and the only knowledge of Scri])turc possessed by the masses was derived from these plays. About the mid- 26 THE ELIZABETHAN AGE. 27 die of the thirteenth century sometimes a full set of plays was acted, setting forth the whole of sacred his- tory from the Creation to the Day of Judgment. These usually continued for about a week. In order to please the ignorant and illiterate, the comic element was intro- duced, and the chief comedian chosen was the Prince of the Infernal Regions, who was always represented, accord- ing to the popular notion, with horns, hoofs, and tail. The Miracle Plays were gradually changed into the Moralities. Here Justice, Virtue, etc. were substituted for the Scripture ])ersonages. The object now was to teach not religion, but moralit3\ The Devil was still retained to furnish tlie comic features of the play, and the contest between hira and the Vice represented in the play furnished the chief amusement to the audience. The Morahties formed the basis of the modern drama. The serious portions gave us the elements of English tragedy, and the comic those of English comedy. But previous to the comedy proper came the Interludes, which resembled our modern Farce; and of these John Hey- wood, who lived in the reign of Henry VIII., was prob- ably the most noted writer. The first representative of the modern drama was the first English comedy, Ralph Roister Bolster, a picture of London life, written by Nicholas Udall about the mid- dle of the sixteenth century. Udall was a Lutheran and head-master of Eton College, where he made him- self notorious for his cruel floggings. The first Eng- lish tragedy is supposed to have been Gorboduc, or the old British story Ferrex and Porrc.r, dramatized by Sack- ville and Norton, and acted in 1561 by the students of the Inner Temple. New interest was given to the plays by the introduction of real human characters instead of continuing the representation of the abstract virtues; and from this time forward the English drama mad© 28 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. sucli rapid strides that in a few years the magnificent creations of Shakespeare's genius took the place of tlie grotesque drolleries of Heywood, and the English court and the English people could sit and laugh at the rol- licking humor of the broadest comedy or tremble at tlie stirring passion of the greatest tragedies the world has ever known. The first English theatre was built at I>lack friars, in London, in 1576. It was merely a round wooden wall, enclosing an open space, except that occupied by the stage, which was covered. The Globe Tlieatre, which was built for Shakespeare, was erected in 1594. It was the model after which nearly all others were patterned. The exterior was hexagonal, and the interior circular. The scenery was of the rudest description. A change of scene was announced by hanging out a placard with the name of the place — Padua, Paris, or some other city — painted on it. The audience consisted of groundlings, *vho occupied the pit, and the gallants, who sat in two rows on the stage, the actors plaj'ing between them. The actors, of whom Shakespeare and the scholarly Ben Jonson were representatives, also wrote for the 10 And scorned parts were mingled with the fine — That Nature had for wantonness ensued Art, and that Art at Nature did repine; So striving each th' other to undermine, Each did the other's work more beautiiy ; 16 So differing both in wills, agreed in fine: So all agreed through sweet diversity. This garden to adorn with all variety. And in the midst of all a fountain stood Of richest substance that on earth might be, 80 So pure and shiny, that the silver flood Tlirough every channel running one might see; Most goodly it with curious imagery Was overwrought, and ahajics of naked boys. Of which some seemed with lively jollity 2i To fly about, playing their wanton toys. While others did embay themselves in liquid joys. Analysis. — 8. And that. Give grammatical construction of thai. What is the meaning of ayyracef 10. What is the object of would have thought* 10, 11. 80 cunningly .... fine. Give grammatical construction. 13. did repine. Is this the emphatic form, or llie ancient form of Uie past tense? 14 15. Give the grammatical construction of each. 17 Name the nuxHtiera of agreed. 18. to adorn. Of what in tliis an adjunct? What figure runs through the second stanza? .'9 22. Rewrite these lines in natural order. 23. Moxt goodly. Modernize. 24. In what case is nhape-sf 25. of which. Should this not be of whomf 26. To fly about. .Should tliis he to fly or to flee f 27. embay. Tiie word ih now oliKoiote. It meant to bathe. EDMUND SPEXSER. oS And over all, of purest gold, was spread A trail of ivy in his native hue ; For the rich metal was so colored, 80 That wight, who did not well advised it view, Would surely deem it to be ivy true : Low his lascivious arms adown did creep, That themselves dipping in the silver dew, Their fleecy flowers they fearfully did steep, 85 Which drops of crystal seemed for wantonness to weep. Infinite streams continually did well Out of this fountain, sweet and fair to see. The which into an ample laver fell. And shortly grew to so great quantity, 40 That like a little lake it seemed to be ; Whose depth exceeded not three cubits height. That through the waves one might the bottom see, All paved beneath with jasper shining bright. That seemed the fountain in that sea did sail upright. 45 And all the margin round about was set With shady laurel trees, thence to defend The sunny beams, which on the billows beat, And those which therein bathed might offend Analysis. — 28, 29. Transpose and rewrite these two lines. 34. silver dew. Explain and point out the figure. S5. fleecy flowers. What figure? Notice the alliteration. 36. What is the antecedent of which ? In what case is drops f Zl. did well. What is the modern word ? 38 fair to see. Tliat is, fair to be seen — so used by poetic licenee. 39. Note the use of The before which. What is the meaning of laver * 41. Parse like. What figure in the line? 44 All paved. Purse all ; also beiieath and bright. 45 Reconstruct this line so as to develop the meaning. 46. Parse round about. 47. to defend, to keep ofi'. Give the etymology of the word. Give she meaning of thevce. 48. 49. Name the antecedent of which in each line. 49. Explain the meaning of this line. 3 3. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE, 1564-1616. The brightest name that adorns the Elizabethan period of English literature, indeed one of the brightest in the whole history of English letters, is that of ^V il- LiAM Shakespeare, who was born on the 23d of April, 1564, at Stratford-upon-Avon, in "Warwickshire, Eng- land. His fiither, John Shakespeare, was a wool-comber or glover, whose social position had been somewhat elevated by his marriage with a rustic heiress, Jlary Arden. But little is known of the boyhood of Shakespeare The morals of the time were not of a liigh standard, and Shakespeare's youthful life was not above the average. At the age of eighteen he married Anne Hathaway, who was almost eight years older than himself. She was the daughter of a yeoman living within a mile of Stratford. About the year 1587 he removed to London, where he became a member of the Globe Theatre, with which he retained connection as an actor and a stockholder to the time of his retirement to Stratford in 1611, nearly twen- ty-five 3'ears later. As an actor, however, Shakespeare never became either remarkably successful or popular. Like most young men of his calling at that time, he rendered himself doubly useful in his connection with the theatre as an actor and as an arranger of pieces. Shakespeare's first successful literary work was, doubt- less, that of adapting old i)lay8 to the requirements of his own theatre. But he soon tired of this sort of work, and, relying upon his own genius, he soon surpassed 34 WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE: 35 both his predecessors and his contemporaries as a writer of dramatic poetry. Most of his plots are borrowed — some from Plutarch, some from Holinshed's Chronicle^ some from novels and romances, and some from older dramas. Shakespeare's best-known works consist of thirty- seven dramas, which may be divided into tragedies, comedies, and historical plays. Among his best trag- edies are Hamlet, Othello, Macbeth, and King Lear ; among the comedies, The Merchant of Venice, Midsummer NigMs Dream, and As You Like It ; and among the historical plays, King Richard IIL, King Henry VL, Julius Cassar, and King Henry V. Shakespeare died at Stratford in the year 1616, on the 23d of April, the fifty-second anniversary of his birth- day, and was buried in that village. His grave was first marked by a plain stone, the inscription on which, said to have been written by Shakespeare himself, was as follows : " Good friend, for Jesus' sake forbear To dig the dust enclosed liere. Blest be the man that spares these stones And curst be he that moves my bones !'* CEITICISM BY DR. SAMUEL JOHNSON. This, therefore, is the praise of Shakespeare, that liis drama is the mirror of life; that he who has mazed his imagination, in following the phantoms which other writers raise up before him, may here be cured of his delirious ecstasies by reading human sentiments in human language, by scenes from which a hermit may estimate the transactions of the world, and a confessor predict the progress of the passions If there be, what I believe tliere is, in every nation, a 36 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. Btyle which never becomes ohsolete, a certain mode of phraseology so consonant and congenial to the analogy and principles of its respective language as to remain settled and unaltered, this style is probably to be sought in the common intercourse of life among those who speak only to be understood, without ambition of elegance. The polite are always catching modish innovations, and the learned depart from established forms of speech in hope of finding or making better ; those who wish for distinction forsake the vulgar when the vulgar is right; but there is a conversation, above grossness and below refinement, where proi)riety resides, and where this poet seems to have gathered his comic dialogue. He is, there- fore, more agreeable to the ears of the present age than any other author equally remote, and, among his other excellences, deserves to be studied as one of the original masters of our lanffuajre. TRIAL-SCENE FROM "THE MERCHANT OF VENICE." The following extract is taken from Scene 2, Act IV., of the Mtr- tlumt of Venice, one of Sliakespeare's most popular comedies. Enter Portia, dirssed like a doctor of laws. Duke. Give me your band. Come you from old Bellario f Portia. I did, my lord. Duke. You are welcome. Are you acquainted with the difference That holds this present question in the court? I Par. I am inlormud througldy of the cause. Which is the merchant here and which the .lew? Duke, Antonio and Shylock, both stand forth. Pot Is your name Shylock ? K0TE8. — 4, 5. the difference that holds, etc. Tliat is, the cause of the dispute. 6. throughly, thoroughly. 8. Antonio, tlie merchant Shylock, «he Jew. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. 37 A,L For. Shy. Por. Shylich. Shylock is my name. Por. Of a strange nature is the suit you follow', Yet in such rule that the Venetian law Cannot impugn you, as you do proceed. You stand within his danger, do you not? Antonio. Ay, so lie says. Pot Do you confess the bond? I uo. Then must the Jew be merciful. On what compulsion must I ? Tell me that, The quality of mercy is not strained ; It drop])eth as the gentle rain from heaven Upon the place beneath ; it is twice blessed ; It blesseth him that gives and him that takes ; 'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes The throned monarch better than his crown ; His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, The attribute to awe and majesty, "Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; But mercy is above this sceptered sway, It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, It is an attribute to God himself; And earthly power doth then show likest God's When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, Though justice be thy plea, consider this, 10 [ To Anto>^io. 15 20 25 30 Notes. — 12. in such rule, strictly according to the form. 13. impugn, call in question. 22. twice blessed, doubly blesfieTES. — 197. privy coffer, pri- vate treiusurv. etc.. Which humility may chantre lo a due. 21 5. Which humbleness may, 21G. the slate, the government. Anal"\.^is. — 212. Ikon okL Are these words of tlie .same form* 213. hdlftky wi-nllh, i\ etc. Parse hply ellipsis. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. 45 To quit the fine for one half of his goods, I am content, so he will let me have 225 The other half in use, to render it, Upon h:s death, unto the gentleman That lately stole his daughter : Two things provided more, that, for this favor, He presently become a Christian ; 230 The other that he do record a gift, Here in the court, of all he dies possessed. Unto his son Lorenzo and his daughter. Duke. He shall do this, or else I do recant The pardon that I late pronounced here. 235 For. Art thou contented, Jew ? What dost thou say ? Shy. I am content. For. Clerk, draw a deed of gift. Shy. 1 pray you give me leave to go from hence ; I am not well. Send the deed after me, 240 And I will sign it. Duke. Get thee gone, but do it. Ch-a. In christening thou shalt have two godfathers. Had I been judge, thou shouldst have had ten more. To bring thee to the gallows, not tlie font. [Exit Shylock.] 245 Duke. Sir, I entreat you home with me to dinner. Por. I humbly do desire your grace of pardon : I must away this night toward Padua, And it is meet I presently set forth. Notes. — 224. to quit, to remit or excuse- 225. so, provided. 234, recant, recall. 244. ten more. This refers to a hangman's jury of twelve. 246. entreat, a-sk or invite. 247. your grace of pardon, the pardon of your grace. 249. meet I presently set forth, proper tliat I set forth soon. Analysis. — 226. What does to render, etc modify ? 230. Give the meaning of presently. 232. of all he dies possessed. Give the meaning. 245. Give the meaning of font. 248. mxist away. Give graniiuatical con«»ruction. 46 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. Diihe, I am sorry that your leisure server you not. — "lab Antonio, gratify this gentleman, for, in my mind, you are much bound to him. \Exeunt Duke and his train.\ Bos. Most worthy gentleman, I and my friend Have by your wisdom been this day acquitted 265 Of grievous penalties ; in lieu whereof. Three thousand ducats, due unto the Jew We freely cope your courteous pains withal. Ant. And stand indebted, over and above, Tn love and service to you evermore. 260 Por. He is well paid that is well satisfied ; And I, delivering you, am satisfied. And therein do account myself well paid : My mind was never yet more mercenary. I pray you, know me when we meet again ; 265 I wish you well, and so I take my leave. Noa'ES. — 254. Notice that Bas- Banio mentions himself first, the two having been under penalty. 258. cope, requite. 258. withal, with. 25'J. over and above, in addi- tion thereto. 264. more mercenary, more anx- ious for reward or pay. Analysis. — 261. Give the modifiers of he. 262. Give the conBtruction of delivering. %3. Parse void. 4. FRANCIS BACON, 1561-1626, Sir Francis Bacon, the great English philosopher, known also as Lord Bacon, was the son of Sir Nicholas Bacon, lord keeper of the great seal. He was born in London, January 22, 1561. At the age of thirteen he entered Trinity College, Cambridge, where he completed his studies when but sixteen, and it is said that even at this age he had already become disgusted with the philosophy of Aristotle, which then held sway in all English colleges. On leaving college he went to France, where he spent three years, mostly at Poictiers. The sudden death of his father in 1579 caused Bacon to return at once to England. He was anxious to hold some posi- tion under the government which would give him leis- ure to devote to the study of literature and philosophy, but his uncle. Lord Burleigh, gave him neither encour- agement nor assistance, and he therefore became a stu- dent of law, in which profession he afterward won great distinction, and became the most admired teacher of legal science and tlie most learned advocate of his time. He was for some time a member of the House of Commons, wliere he displayed great power as an orator, but his moral princii)les were all through life uncertain and unreliable. In one of his speeches in Parliament he greatly distinguished himself as the popular advo- cate against certain subsidies asked by the Crown, but when he learned that the Queen was offended at his speech, he quickly abandoned his position and took 47 48 STUDIES JN ENGLISH LITERATURE. the otlier side. It was on account of these moral ob- liquities that Pope characterized him as " the wisest, brightest, meanest of mankind." By truckling continuall}' to the favorites of the Crown, Bacon rose rapidly in favor at the court, and in 1617 he reached the height of his ambition, when he was made lord high chancellor of England and Baron Verulam. The latter title was three years later changed to that of Viscount St. Albans. Bacon's decisions while acting as lord chancellor were Bo openly influenced by the Crown, and he became the recipient of so many presents and bribes, that Parlia- ment was at length compelled to interfere. Twenty- three charges of gross corruption as a judge were pre- Bented against him by the House of Lords, to which he at once plead guilt}' in a confession, and begged for mercy, saying, " I beseech your lordships to be merciful to a broken reed." The sentence deprived him of his office as chancellor, fined him forty thousand pounds, and imprisoned him in the Tower during the King's pleasure; it also forbade him to come within twelve miles of the court. But little of the sentence, however, was ever enforced except that of dejjriving him of his office. Five years later, in 1620, he died, and was buried, at his own request, by the side of his mother in the church at St. Albans. Bacon was celebrated for his learning, but he is espe- cially noted and honored as " the father of inductive philosopliy." His greatest work is entitled Novum Or- yrinum ("The New Instrument"), in which he ex])ound8 the methods to be pursued in the investigation of truth Dy induction. His most popular writings are his Es- says. r%ANClS BACON. 49 CRITICISM BY TAINE. Bacon's mode of thought is b)^ symbols, not by anal- ysis ; instead of explaining his idea, he transposes ana tonslates it — translates it entire, to the smallest details, inclosing all in tlie majesty of a grand period or in the brevity of a striking sentence. Thence springs a style of admirable richness, gravity, and vigor, now solemn and symmetrical, now concise and piercing, always elaborate and fall of color. There is notliing in Eng- lish prose superior to his diction. When he has laid up his store of facts, the greatest possible, on some past subject, on some entire province of the mind, on the whole anterior philosophy, on the general condition of the sciences, on the power and limits of the human reason, he casts over all this a comprehensive view, as it were a great net — brings up a universal idea, con- denses his idea into a maxim, and hands it to us with the words, " Verify and profit by it." FRIENDSHIP. Note. — The following extract is taken from one of Bacon's Essays, that on " Friendship." It had been hard for him that spake it to have put more truth and untruth together in few words than in that speech, " Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or a god." For it is most true that a natural and secret hatred and aversation towards Jf Note, — 3. whosoever, etc. The l Aristotle, a Greek philoeo- author of this sentence was pher. Analysis. — 1. had been hard. Give the meaning and di.-i)oee of tlie verb. 1, 2. to have put, etc. What is this phr.i.'^e in apposition with 7 5. aversation towwd.f. Modernize. 4 50 STUDIES IN ENGLTSn LITERATURE. society in any man hath somewhat of the savage beast , hut it is most untrue that it should have any character at all of the di\'ine nature, except it proceed, not out of a pleasure in solitude, but out of a love and desire to sequester a man's self for a higher conversation, such 10 as -S found to have been falsely and feignedly in some of the heathen — as Epimenides the Candian, Numa the Roman, Empedocles the Sicilian, and Apollonius of Tyana — and truly and really in divers of the an- cient hermits and holy Fathers of the Church, 15 But little do men perceive what solitude is, and how far it extendeth ; for a crowd is not company, and faces are but a gallery of pictures, and talk but a tinkling cymbal, where there is no love. The Latin adage meet- eth with it a little, Magna civitas, raagna solitudo (a great 2(1 city is a great solitude), — because in a great town friends Notes. — 10. sequester, to seek seclusion, conversation, here refers to life. 12. Epimen'ides, a poet and philosopher of Crete, who lived in the sixth or the seventh century. Plis his- tory is mjrthical. He is said to have fallen asleep in a cave, and on awak- ing found ever}'tlung about him changed. Numa, one of the kings of Borne. Keigned b. c. 715- 672. He desired his sub- jects to believe that he re- ceiveil help in his admin- istration from the nymph Egeria. 13. Emped^ocIes,aSicilian phil- osopher, who flourished about 450 B. c. Tradition s.ays he threw himself into the crater of Mount Etna, til at his mysterious disap- ])earance might be taken as a proof of his divine origin. Apollo'nius, a follower of IMhagonis, who flourished during the reigns of Veik p:i.sian and Domitian. 19. meeteth, corresponds. Analysis. — 8. Substitute a word for ercepl. 16. But Utile. Give grammatical construction. 18, 19. Point out the figures in these lines. FRANCIS BACON. 51 ctre scattered, so that there is not that fellowsliip, for the most part, which is in less neighborhoods. But we may go further, and affirm most truly that it is a mere and miserable solitude to want true friends, without which 2J the world is but a wilderness ; and even in this sense also of solitude, whosoever in the frame of his nature and affections is unfit for friendship, he taketh it of the beast, and not of humanity. A principal fruit of friendship is the ease and dis- 30 charge of the fullness and swellings of the heart, which passions of all kinds do cause and induce. We know diseases of stoppings and suffocations are the most dan- gerous in our body ; and it is not much otherwise in the mind. You may take sarza to open the liver, steel 35 to open the spleen, flowers of sulphur for the lungs, castoreum for the brain ; but no receipt openeth the heart but a true friend, to whom you may impart griefs, joys, fears, hopes, suspicions, counsels, and what- soever lieth upon the heart to oppress it, in a kind of 40 civil shrift or confession. It is a strange thing to observe how high a rate great kings and monarchs do set upon this fruit of friendship Notes.— 25. to want, to lack. | 29. of humanity, of human na- 27. solitude, loneliness. I ture. Analysis. — 22. so that there. Parse these words. 24. Name the piiraite in appoaition with it. 28. Give the grammatical construction of he. 31. Name the antecedent of which. 32. Give the object of know. 35. Give the meaning of sarza. 36, 37. What do the inHnitive phrases in these lines modify? What are the objective modifiers of taJcef Dispose of the two words but. 42. Name the full phrase in apposition with the subject IL 43. do set. Notice the use of the oKl form even in prose. 52 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. whereof we speak — so great as they purchase it many times at the hazard of their own safety and greatneas. 45 For princes, in regard of the distance of their fortune from that of their subjects and servants, cannot gather this fruit except (to make tlicmselves capable thereof) they raise some persons to be, as it were, companions and ahnost equals to themselves, which many times 50 Borteth to inconvenience. The modern language* give unto such persons the name of favorites, or privadoes, as if it were matter of grace or conversation ; but the Roman name attaineth the true use and cause thereof, naming them partireps curarum [sharers in cares], for 55 it is that which tieth the knot. And we see plainly that this hath been done, not by weak and passionate princes only, but by the wisest and most politic that ever reigned ; who have oftentimes joined to themselves Bome of their servants, wliom both themselves have 60 called friends, and allowed others likewise to call them in the same manner, using the word which is received between private men It is not to be forgotten what Comines observeth of his first master, Duke Charles the Hardy — namely, that 63 be would communicate his secrets with none, and least of all those secrets which troubled him most. Where- NoTts. — 57. passionate, Kenti- niental. 6o. Charles the Hardy, Charles (lie Bold, duke of Bur- gundy, and the rival of Louis XI. Analysis. — J4. ko great cut. Modernize. 4K-0I. \\'rite this sentence in modern English. 5J sorlelh here means "leadelh." 60-63. Write in modern English. 64. // VI, etc. I'oinl out the phrase in a[iiK>sition with It. 66. cMnmuniatle his accrels with. What 'la the i)reseut form of or- presrion ? rUANCJS BACON. 53 up<5n he goeth on, and saith that towards his latter time that closeness did impair and a little perish his under- standing. Surely, Comines mought have made the 7B same judgment also, if it had pleased him, of his sec- ond master, Louis the Eleventh, whose closeness was indeed his tormentor. The parable of Pythagoras is dark, but true, "Cbr ne edito" — eat not the heart. Cer- tainly if a man would give it a hard phrase, those that 75 want friends to open themselves unto are cannibals of their own hearts. But one thing is most admirable (wherewith I will conc.lu. mellowinff year. What figure? Parse s/ia/ure eyes, And perfect witness of all-judging Jove; As he pronounces lastly on each deed, Of so much fame in Heaven expect thy meed." fountain Arethuse, and thou honored flood, 85 Smooth-sliding Miucius, crowned with vocal reeda, That strain I heard was of a higher mood ; But now my oat proceeds, And listens to the herald of the sea, Then came in Neptune's plea ; 90 He asked the waves, and asked the felon winds, " What hard mishap hath doomed this gentle swain?' And questioned every gust of rugged wings That blows from off each beaked promontory They knew not of his story ; 96 And sage Hippotades their answer brings. That not a blast was from his dungeon strayed ; The air was calm, and on the level brine Sleek Panope with all her sisters played. Notes. — 79. glistering, glitter- ing. 83. lastly, finally. 85. Arethuse, a fountain of Or- tygia, at the mouth of the harbor of Syracuse, Sicily. 90. Neptune's plea, tlie plea in Neptune's behalf. 96. Hippot'ades, ^olus, the god of the winds. 99. Panope, a sea-nynipli, one of fifty si-sters. 80, Parse set off. Give the moilifier of lies. 62. Who was Jm'e f 84. Give the construction of expect. 91 92. What ia the object of asked f Parse wares iwd winds. 9.3 Name the complete object of questuined. 93 91. What figure? 97. TlwJ, not a blast, etc. What does the clause modify? woi tiraijed. Give the modem form, his dungeon. To what does thia refer? 99. Name the nxxlifierH of pUiyeA. JOHN MILTON. 69 It •was that fatal and pprfidious bark, 100 Built in the eclipse, and rigged with curses dark, That sunk so low that sacred head of thine. Next Camus, reverend sire, went footing slow, His mantle hairy and his bonnet sedge Inwrought with figures dim, and on the edge 105 Like to that sanguine flower inscribed with woe. "Ah I who ha,th reft," quoth he, "my dearest pledgef Last came, and last did go. The pilot of the Galilean lake ; Two massj' keys he bore of metals twain — 110 The golden opes, the iron shuts amain — He shook his mitred locks, and stern bespake : " How well could I have spared for thee, young swain, Enow of such as, for their bellies' sake, Creep, and intrude, and climb into the fold, 115 Notes. — 101, Built in the eclipse, referring to the supersti- tion that an eclipse is an evil omen, rigged, etc. ; that is, with curstaj clinging to the rig- ging- 103. Camus, god of the river Cam, on which Cambridge is located, slow, slowly. 104-107. These lines refer to the peculiarities of tlie river- sponge found (loating on the Cam, and the mark- ings of the river-sedge growing along this stream. 106. sanguine flower, the hya- cinth. Look for the his- tory of this word. 107. who hath reft, who hath snatched away. 109. The pilot, St. Peter. 110. metals twain, two kinds of metal. 112. mitred, covered with a mitre or liood. bespake, spake. Usetl tran sitively. 114. enow, enough. Analysis. — 100, 102. What clause is in appositiDn with barkt 103. What figure? 107. Name the complete object of quoth. 108. last. . . . la.ft. Wliat parts of speech? 111. niiiain, forcibly. Wbat part of speech? 70 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 120 Of other care they little reckoiiins:; make Than how to scramble at the shearer's feast, And shove away the worthy bidden guest. Blind mouths I that scarce themselves know how to hold A sheep-hook, or have learned aught else the least That to the faithful herdsman's art belongs 1 What recks it them ? AVhat need they ? They are sped ; And, when they list, their lean and flashy songs Grate on their scrannel pipes of wretched straw: The hungry sheep look up, and are not fed, 125 But, swollen with wind and the rank mist they draw, Rot inwardly, and foul contagion spread ; Besides what the grim wolf witli privy paw Daily devours apace, and nothing said. But thai two-handed engine at tlie door Stands ready to smite once, and smite no more. Return, Alpheus; the dread voice is past That shrunk thy streams : return, Sicilian Muse, And call the vales, and bid them hither cast Their liella and flowerets of a thousand hues. Ye valleys low, where the mild whispers use Of jihados and wanton winds, and gushing brooks ; 130 135 NoTFis.— 122. What recks it them ? Wlial does it con- cern them ? 122. They are sped, they arc d*«palclied. 123. flashy, 8ho>v7. 124. scrannel, likely scrawny. 128. privy paw, private paw. 135. bells, corollas. ]3G. use, dwell. Anaia'sis. — llf>-118. Tnui.spose these three lines. J 19. mnullut. What ca.se? 125. look lip. Give grammatical constniotion. 126. eiKollen with wind. What does the j>lir:ii>e modify? 128. DispoHe of Brnide.'< what. 129. a/wce, speedily. What part of speech? \^2. Alphmsi. What case? Who was AlpheuH? 136. niH'l whiitpcrH. How mo. JOHN DRYDEN, 1631-1700. JoH\ Dryden, the most eminent poet of the Restora- tion, was born of Puritan parents on the i)th of August, 1631. He received his preliminary education at the famous school of Dr. Busby at Westminster, and then became a student at Trinity College, Cambridge, where be graduated without special distinction four years 76 JOHN DRYDEN. 77 later. On the death of Oliver Cromwell, Diyden wrote a glowing eulogium on that hero, but two years later he ?hanged his politics, became a Royalist, and wrote a pjem celebrating the restoration of Charles II. to the tlirone. His income from his father's estate being but sixty pounds a year, Dryden was compelled to resort to lit- erature as a profession. Books then had but a limited sale, and much the most profitable writing was that of a dramatic or theatrical character. He therefore de- voted himself to the writing of plays, entering into a contract to supply three dramas each year. He thus produced play after play in rapid succession, but all, it is said, were tainted with the licentiousness of that shameless age. Dryden's dramatic career began about the year 1662, and a year later he married Lady Elizabeth Howard, daughter of the earl of Berkshire ; but the union did not prove a happy one, his wife having been of a quer- ulous disposition. His first great poem, the Annus Mirahilis, appeared in 1667. It was designed to commemorate the terrible calamities of the preceding year — the Fire of London, the Plague, and the war with the Dutch. The poem was made the vehicle for eulogizing the King, and Dry- den was made poet-laureate and historiographer to the King, with a salary of one hundred pounds a year and a tierce of wine worth an additional hundred pounds. In 1681 the first part of his great work, Absalom and Aehitophel, appeared, in which he attacks the most noted men of the corrupt English court, assigning to thera names borrowed from the Old Testament. In 1684 he produced Reliylo Laid, a vigorous defense of the English Church against tlie Dissenters, and in 1687 he changed his religion again, becomintr a Roman 78 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. Catholic. In defense of his course he produced another poem, The Hind and the Panther, in which he represents the Roman Catholic Church as a " milk-white hind," and the Cliurch of England as a " panther, the fairest of the spotted kind." Wlien William and Mary came to the throne Dryden lost his laureateship, and he again resorted to his pen for a living. His translation of Virgil is said to have brought him twelve hundred pounds. Dryden's finest lyric is his Ode for St. Uecilid's Day, generally known as Alexander's Feast. Though much criticised, it still remains a favorite; and deservedly so, as no poem better illustrates the flexibility of the language we speak. Dryden's old age was not happy. He was poor, and his work was by no means to his taste, for he was com- pelled to write as a task to earn his daily bread. He was a rapid composer, and seldom pruned or rewrote, and few writers have approached him in the amount of work prepared. CRITICISM BY SIR WALTER SOOTT. The distinguishing characteristic of Dryden's genius seems to have been the power of reasoning, and of ex- pressing the result in appropriate language. This may seem slender praise, yet these were the talents which led Hacon into the recesses of Philosophy and conducted Newton to tlie cabinet of Nature. The j)rose works of Dryden bear repeated evidence to his philosophical powers. Indeed, his early and poetical studies gave his researches somewhat too much of a metai)hysical character ; and it was a consequence of liis mental acute- ness that his dramatic personages often philosophized or reasoned when they ought only to have felt. The more JOHN DRYDEN. 79 lofty, the fiercer, the more ambitious, feelings seem also to have been his favorite studies. With this power Dry- den's poetry was gifted in a degree surpassing in mod- ulated harmony that of all who had preceded him, and inferior to none that has since written English verse. He first showed that the English language was capa- ble of uniting smoothness and strength. The hob- bling verses of his predecessors were abandoned even by the lowest versifiers ; and by the force of his pre- cept and example the meanest lampooners of the yeai seventeen hundred wrote smoother lines than Donne and Cowley, the chief poets of the earlier half of the seventeenth century. What was said of Rome adorned by Augustus has been, by Johnson, applied to English poetry improved by Dry den — that he found it of brick, and left it of marble. ALEXANDER'S FEAST. Note. — This ode is pronounced by Macaulay to be Dryden's greatest work. He calls it "the masterpiece of the second cla.s8 of poetry," and says it "ranks just below the great models of the first." Dryden himself was very proud of it, and is said to have claimed that " a nobler ode never was produced, nor ever will be." The poem was written for an English musical society which annually cele- brated the festival of St. Cecilia, the patron of music, and w;is com- posed in a single night, the author claiming that he was so struck with the subject that he could not leave it until he had completed the poem. I. 'TwAS at the royal feaat, for Persia won By Philip's warlike son : Notes. — 2. Philip's warlike son, I Philip, king of Macedon Alexander the Great, sou of I (b. c. 35&-323). Analysis. — 1, 2 "Iheas at, etc. Parse 'Twos. Transpose to the natural order. 80 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. Aloft in awful state The godlike hero sate On his imperial throne ; 8 Hi& valiant peers were placed around, Their brows with roses and with myrtles bound (So should desert in arms be crowned) : The lovely Thais by his side, Sate like a blooming Eastern bride, 10 In flower of youth and beauty's pride. Happy, happy, happy pair ! None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. 16 II. Timotheus, placed on high Amid the tuneful choir. With flying fingers touched the lyre: The trembling notes ascend the sky. And heavenly joys ins])ire. 20 The song began from Jove, Who left his blissful seats above. Notes. — 9. Thais, an Athenian I IG. Timo'theus, a celebrated beauty and wit who accom- Greek musician, panied Alexander in his in- i 21. Jove, Jupiter, the son of vasion of Persia. I Saturn. Analysis. — 3, 4. Write in natural order. 4. sate. Give the meaning. Name tlie modifiers of sate. 7. Their brows .... bound. What kind of plira.se? Parse brom. 8. Give tlie construction of the parontlietical wurds. 10. like and bride. Give construi-tion. What figure? 16. none. Singular or phind ? 13-15. What figure? 16. Timotheus, placed, etc. In wluit case is Timolheusi What doei Ihe participial phrase modify? on high. Give graniniatical construction. 20. jnyx i7is])irc. Give ^'rainniaticid constniction. 22. blisafid seals. Wl»at is the present form 7 JOHN DRYDEl^. 81 (Sach is the power of mighty love I) A dragon's fiery form belied the god : Sublime on radiant spheres he rode. ***** The listening crowd admire the lofty sound, A present deity I they shout around ; A present deity I the vaulted roofs rebound. With ravished ears The monarch hears, Assumes the god. Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres. III. The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung, — Of Bacchus ever fair and ever young : The jolly god in triumph comes ; Sound the trumpets, beat the drums ; Flushed with a purple grace, He shows his honest face : Now give the hautboys breath. He comes 1 he comes 1 25 80 35 40 Notes.— 24. A dragon's fiery form, etc. — that is, Jupiter appeared in the form of a dragon. 27. deity, a god. 32. Affects to nod, signifies hia will by nodding. 34. Bacchus, the god of wine; son of Jupiter. 39. honest, handsome. Analysis.— 23. such. What part of speech? Dispose cf the parenthetical sentence. 24. Dispose of belied. 27. around. What part of speech? 28. Is the verb in the line transitive or intransitive? 29. With ravished ears. An adjunct of what? 34. Bunfj. Modernize. 35. ever fair, etc. Why is ever repeated? 38. Jlushed with a purple grace. What kind of phrase, and what does it modify? 40. hautboys. Give meaninjr. 6 82 STUDIES JN ENGLISH LITEEATUJIK Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain ; Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure : Rich the treasure, 48 Sweet the pleasure, Sweet is pleasure after pain. IV. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain ; Fought all his battles o'er again ; And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain. 60 The master saw the madness rise, His glowing cheeks, his ardent eyes ; And, while he Heaven and Earth defied, Changed his hand, and checked his pride. He chose a mournful Muse, 55 Soft pity to infuse : He sung Darius, great and good, By too severe a fate. Note. — 57. Darius ; that is, Da- 1 the time of Alexander's in- rius IIL, king of Persia at | vasion. Analysis. — 41. ever fair, etc. Why is ei'cr'not repeated? 41, 42. Name the subject, the jiredicate, and the object in this sen- tence. Rewrite the sentence in prose. 45, 46. Supply the ellipsis. What is the order of these two lines? 48. Soothed, etc. W^hat kind of phnise? What does it modify? 49. Explain the contraction o'er. Dispose of o'er and again. 50. thrice he Blew the slain. What figure ? Dispose of thrice and thrice 51. sau the madness ri.ie. Parse me. What is the object of saw* 5.3, 54. To what does he refer? To what the first hi.if To what ibe second his f What fault in tlie lines ? 55. Erjjlain the figure in the line. 68. By loo severe, etc This is on adjunct of what? JOHN DRY DEN. 83 Fallen, fallen, fallen, fallen, Fallen from his high estate, 60 And weltering in his blood ; Deserted, at his utmost need, By those his former bounty fed; On the bare earth exposed he lies. With not a friend to close his eyes. 65 With downcast looks the joyless victor sate, Eevolving in his altered soul The various turns of chance below ; And, now and then, a sigh he stole, And tears began to flow. 70 V. The mighty master smiled to see That love was in the next degree ; 'Twas but a kindred sound to move, For pity melts the mind to love. Softly sweet, in Lydian measures, Soon he soothed his soul to pleasurea. 75 Notes. — 61. weltering in his blood. This refers to the murder of Darius by one of bis satraps. 67. Revolving, reflecting on. 72. in the next degree ; that is, came next to i)ity. 75. Lydian measures. Of the dve styles of Grecian music, the Lydian was soft and voluptuous ; the Phrygian, religious; the Doric, mar- tial ; the Ionic, gay ; and the JLolic, simple. Analysis. — 59, 60. Fallen, fallen, etc. What figure? 64, 65. Name tiie modifier of he. 62-05. Analyze the sentence. 66. joyless victor. Who is meant ? 68. I)isy)Ose of below. 69. Dispose of now and then. Give the meaning of a sigh he atoie, 7J.. mighty ma.isp()8e of the participles in the line. 81. worth is here used iis an adjective. Winnimj is in the ()l)je«li»« case after a preposition nnderstood. 82. umih enjoyinr/. Dispose of both words. 85. Explain the figure in the line. 8d Point out and name the figure in this line. 92 9S Name the modifiers of xnclor. 95. Dif'pose of the words yrt and yet. 9t) baiulu oj sleep. Wluil liyure? 97 Dispose of like and /jck/. ti&. rained up. Would this be correct in prose? JOHN DRYBEN. 85 As awaked from the dead, 10(t Aud, amazed, he stares around. Revenge ! revenge ! Timotheus cries. See the Furies arise I See the snalces that they rear I How they hiss in their hair, 106 And tlie sjiarkles that flash from their eyes I Behold a ghastly band, Each a torch in his hand I These are Grecian ghosts, that in battle were slain And unburied remain, 110 Inglorious on the plain Give the vengeance due To the valiant crew. Behold how they toss their torches on high. How they point to the Persian abodes, 115 And glittering temples of their hostile gods ' The princes applaud with a furious joy. And the king seized a flambeau with zeal to destroy ; Thais led the way. To light him to his prey, 120, And, like another Helen, fired another Troy 1 NoT£B. — 116. their hostile gods, the gods of their enemies, the Persia-iis. 118. flambeau, a torch. 121. like another Helen. Ac- cording to mythology, Helen, wife of Menelaus, king of Sparta, was the most beautiful woman in the world. She wa* said to be of divine origin, and was stolen by Paris, prince of Troy, which led to the Trojan war and the con- sequent burning of Troy. Helen being the occasion of the Trojan war, she is represented as the cause of the burning of Troy by the Greeks. Analysis. — 100, 101. "Write in prose form, and supply the ellipsis. Disjiose of the word around. 105. they and their. To what does each word refer? 108. Give construction of f^rch. 112, 113. Explain what is meant. 118. to destroy. What does it modify ? 120. To light, etc. Wliat kind of plirasi^, and what does it modify? 86 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. VII. Thus, long ago, Ere heaviug bellows learned to blow, While organs yet were mute ; Timotheus, to his breathing flute And sounding lyre. Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. At last divine Cecilia came, Inventress of the vocal frame ; The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarged the former narrow bounds, And added length to solemn sounds, With Nature's mother-wit, and arts unknown before. Let old Timotheus yield the prize, Or both divide the crown ; 136 He raised a mortal to the skies ; She drew an angel down. 1S8 130 Notes.— 122-124. Thus . . . . were mute ; that is, before the invention of organs. 125. to, with. 129. Inventress, etc. Cecilia is said to have lived in the third century, and to her is ascribed the invention of the vocal frame, or or- gan. 136. 137. He raised a mortal, eta He immortalized Alex- ander. She drew an angel down. This probably refers to the legend in the story of St. ( 'ecilia, that she was under the immediate protection of an angel, as related iu the Leyenda Aura. Analysis. — 123. Meaning of heaving bellows f 127. Explain the figures in the line. 131 132. What is the meaning of these lines? 133. Nature^ s. Why written with a capital letter? What figure CD the line ? mother-wit. Give the meaning. 137. Dispose of down. CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITERS. 87 CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITEES. POET. Samuel Butler (1612-1680). — ^The greatest burlesque- writer of the age in whicli he lived. Famous as the author of Hudihraa, one of the keenest satires in English, ridiculing the manners of the Puritans. PROSE-WRITERS. John Bunyan (1628-1688).— The greatest master of Allegory in the language. At first a poor tinker, then a preacher. Wrote his famous Pilgrim's Progress while in jail for insisting on preach- ing his doctrines to the people. Author also of ffoli/ War and Grace abounding in the Chief of Sinners, all written in excellent English. John Locke (1632-1704). — A metaphysical writer. Educated at Oxford. His greatest work is A7i Essay concerning (he Human Understanding. Author also of Thoughts concerning Education and other essays. Sir William Temple (1628-1699).— A well-known statesman and a writer of high character. Author of a number of grace- fully-written essays. John Evelyn (1620-1706). — Distinguished as the author of several scientific works written in a popular style. His most prominent works are Sylva, a treatise on forest trees, and ''hrrOy a work on agriculture and gardening. V. AGE OF QUEEN ANNE. 1700-1780. Reigns of Queen Anne, George I., George II. The age of Queen Anne is remarkable chiefly for the introduction of periodical literature. This is the era in which flourished The Taller and The Sj^edator, the earliest of literary journals. The moral tone of this era was but little more elevated than that of the preceding, but there was more refine- ment of both manners and language. Among the most noted literary representatives of the era were Addison, Pope, Steele, Swift, and Defoe. 7. JOSEPH ADDISON, 1672-1710. Joseph Addison, the son of a Wiltshire rector, was horn May 1, 1G72. His early life was passed in his father's family at the rectory, but in his boyliood he was sent to Charter-House School in London, where he met a young Irish lad, Richard Steele, with whom he formed an intimate friendship wliich continued through life. At tlie age of fifteen lie left the Charter- House School and entered Queen's College, Oxford. Two years later he secured a scholarship in Magdalen College, granted U)T the excellence of his Latin verses. R8 JOSEPH ADDISON. 89 He published his first poem, some verses addressed to Drj'den, in 1694, which won for him the friendship of that poet. Tliis was a matter of considerable im- portance to young Addison, who was without fame and as yet unknown to the literary men of England. Addison's father was desirous that his son should Iwcome a clergyman, but Lords Somers and Montagu decided that such talent as he displaj^ed was needed in the service of his country. lie wrote a poem on the King, which pleased the monarch so highly that Ad- dison was put on a pension of three hundred pounds a year, that he might cultivate his literary taste by travel on the Continent. Addison accordingly began At once to travel in France and Italy, studying closely ^he society, manners, and scenery of the countries through which he passed, and at the same time at- tempting to acquire a knowledge of the French lan- guage. King William's death, however, cut off his pension, and he was finally compelled to return to England. When the battle of Blenheim was fought Addison was employed to write a poem in ]iraise of the vic- tory. This brought him again to the notice of the Crown, and he was made commissioner of appeals. From this post he rose ra})idly until he became sec- retary of Ireland, and, finally, in 1717, one of the King's chief secretaries of State, the highest position he attained. In the spring of 1709, Addison's old school-fellow, Richard Steele, started a tri-wcekly paper called Hie Tatler, to which Addison became a contributor. This paper gave in each issue a short article or essay and items of news. It became popular at once. In 1711, Addison and Steele issued, instead of The Tatler, their famous daily, Tlie Spectator. Both contributors wrote 90 STUDIES i:S ENGLISH LITERATURE. anonymously, though Addison's articles were usually signed by one of the letters C, L, I, — supposed to represent Chelsea, London, Islington, and the Office. Addison married the countess of Warwick when he was forty-four, but the marriage was not a happy one. His wife was high-spirited and dashing, while he was cold and polished. Addison won fame as a poet, but his greatest reputa- tion is due to the elegant, graceful, and polished style of his essays, which made The Spectator, in which they mostly were printed, a classic. Among his earlier writ- ings were an opera entitled Eosamond and a comedy called J'he Drummer. Six years before his death he wrote a tragedy entitled Cato, which was received with great favor and applause. It was translated into French. Italian, and German. In his later years he was addicted to drink, and it is said that he thawed out and became voluble only when to some extent under the influence of wine. He died at his home on the loth of June, 1719, and his body was borne at dead of night to Westminster Abbey, where it was buried. CRITICISM BY MACAULAY. The mere choice and arrangement of Addison's words would have sufficed to make his essa3's classical. For never, not even by Dryden, not even by Temple, had the English language been written with such sweetness, grace, and facility. As a moral satirist, Addison stands unrivaled. In wit, properly so called, he was not inferior to Cowley or Butler. The still higher faculty of invention he pos- Bessed in a still larger measure. The numerous fictions, generally original, often wild and grotesque, but always singularly graceful and h!ii)j)y, which are found in his JOSEPH ADDISON. 91 esKsays, full}' entitle him to the rank of a great poet — a rank to wliich his metrical compositions give him no claim. As an observer of life, of manners, of all shades of human character, he stands in the first class. And what he observed he had the art of communicating in two widely-different ways. He could describe virtues, vices, habits, whims, as well as Clarendon. But he could do something better. He could call human beings into existence, and make them exhibit them- selves. If we wish to find anything more vivid than Addison's best portraits, we must go either to Shake- fej^eare or to Cervantes. ESSAY ON CHEEEFULNESS. I have always preferred cheerfulness to mirth. The latter I consider as an act, the former as a habit of the mind. Mirth is short and transient, cheerfulness fixed and permanent. Those are often raised into the great- est transports of mirth wlio are subject to the greatest 5 depressions of melancholy : on the contrary, cheerful- ness, though it does not give the mind such an exquisite gladness, prevents us from falling into any depths of sorrow. Mirth is like a flash of lightning, that breaks througli a gloom of clouds and glitters for a moment ; 10 cheerfulness keeps up a kind of daylight in the mind, and fills it with a steady and perpetual serenit}'. Men of austere principles look upon mirth as too wanton and dissolute for a state of probation, and as Analysis. — 2. as an act. Dispose of asf. the former as- a habit. Sui)ply the ellipsis. S cheerfulness filed. Supply ellipsis. Dispose of ylxcrf. 4. Those, etc. Give niodiliers of those. 6. depressions of meluncholy. What figure? 9. Mirth it like afiash, etc. Explain the figure. Give the aae of nghtning. 92 STUDIES IN EXnUSII LITERATURE. filled with a certain triumph and insolence of heart 16 that is inconsistent witli a life which is every moment obnoxious to the greatest dangers. Writers of this complexion have observed that the sacred Person who was the great pattern of perfection was never seen to laugh. 20 Cheerfulness of mind is not liable to any of these ex- ceptions : it is of a serious and composed nature ; it does nut throw the mind into a condition improper for the present state of humanity, and is very conspicuous in the characters of those who are looked upon as the 25 greatest philosophers among the heathen, as well as among those who have been deservedly esteemed as Baints and holy men among Christians. If we consider cheerfulness in three lights, with re- gard to ourselves, to those we converse with, and to the 30 great Author of our being, it will not a little recom- mend itself on each of these accounts. The man who is possessed of this excellent frame of mind is not only easy in his thoughts, Ijut a perfect master of all the powers and faculties of his soul : his imagination is 35 always clear, and his judgment undisturbed ; his tem- per is even and unruffled, whether in action or in soli- tude. He comes with a relish to all those goods which Nature has provided for him, tastes all the pleasures of the creation which are i)0ured about him, and does not 40 feel the full weight of those accidental evils which may befall him. Analysis. — 16. To wliat does that relate? 18. Whi) is meant by sncrrd Ptrsonf 25. Di.Hpose of are Inohcd upon. 25, 26. (live the construction of as and philosophen. 26. Dispose of an mell as. 28. among Chrintians. What does flie [ihrase nuKlifyT 80. to those, etc. What does the phrase modify ? 38-42. He comes, etc. Name all tlie prcdicsites. JOSEPH ADDISON. 93 If we consider him in relation to the persons whom he converses with, it naturally produces love and good- will toward him. A cheerful mind is not only dis- 45 possd to be aflfable and obliging, but raises the same good-humor in those who come within its influence. A man finds himself pleased, he does not know why, with the cheerfulness of his companion : it is like a sudden sunshine that awakens a secret delight in the 50 mind, without her attending to it : the heart rejoices of its own accord, and naturally flows out into friendship and benevolence toward the person who has so kindly an effect upon it. When I consider this cheerful state of mind in its 55 third relation, I cannot but look upon it as a constant habitual gratitude to the great Author of Nature. An inward cheerfulness is an implicit praise and thanks- giving to Providence under all its dispensations : it is a kind of acquiescence in the state wherein we are placed, 60 and a secret approbation of the Divine will in his con- duct toward men. There are but two things which, in my opinion, can reasonably deprive us of this cheerfulness of heart The first of these is the sense of guilt. A man who lives in 65 a state of vice and impenitence can have no title to that evenness and tranquillity of mind which is the health of the soul and the natural effect of virtue and inno- cence. Cheerfulness in an ill man deserves a harder name thai language can furnish us with, and is many 70 Analysis. — '13, 44. xvhovi he converses with. Dispose of whom. 49, 50 What figure in these lines? 51. the heart . . . .flows oat. What figure? 53, kindly. What part of speech? 69 Point out and name the figure in this line. 67. which its the health, etc. Wiiat figure? 7U. furnish us with. Dispose ol" the verb. 94 STUDIES IN ENQLISH LITERATURE. degrees beyond what we commonly call folly or mad ness. Atheism, by which I mean a disbelief of a Supreme Being, and consequently of a future state, under what- soever titles it shelters itself, may likewise very reason- 75 ably deprive a man of this cheerfulness of temper. There is something so particularly gloomy and offensive to human nature in the prospect of non-existence, that I cannot but wonder, with many excellent writers, how it is possible foi a man to outlive the expectation of it. 80 For my own part, I think the being of a God is so little to be doubted, tliat it is almost the only truth we are sure of, and such a truth as we meet with in every ob- ject, in every occurrence, and in every thought. If we look into the characters of this tribe of infidels, we gen- 86 erally find they are made up of pride, spleen, and cavil : it is indeed no wonder that men who arc uneasy to tliemselves should be so to the rest of the world; and how is it possil)le for a man to be otherwise tlian un- easy in himself who is in danger every moment of los- 90 ing his entire existence and dropping into nothing? The vicious man and atheist have therefore no ])re- tence to cheerfulness, and would act very unreasonably Bhould they endeavor after it. It is impossible for any one to live in good-humor, and enjoy his present ex- ^ istence, who is apprehensive either of torment or of annihilation ; of being miserable, or of not being at all. After having mentioned these two great principles, which arc destructive of cheerfulness in their own na- Anai>ysis. — 71. degrees beyond. Dispose of beyond. 73, 74. Alhelwi, etc. Point out the fif,Mire. b2, 83. are t.ure of. Give graniiiiatical coiistiuclion, 89. Dispose of lo be nt/icnvuse than. 94. endeavor uj'n;r i' lOxj'lain. JOSEPH ADDISON. 95 lure, as well as in right reason, I cannot think of any 100 otlier that ought to banish this happy temper from a virtuous mind. Pain and sickness, shame and reproach, po'-erty and old age, nay death itself, considering the shortness of their duration and tlie advantage we may reap from them, do not deserve the name of evils : a 105 good mind may bear up under them with fortitude, with indolence, and with cheerfulness of heart. The tossing of a tempest does not discompose him, wliich he is sure will bring him to a joyful harbor. A man who uses his best endeavors to live according 110 to the dictates of virtue and right reason has two per- petual sources of cheerfulness, in the consideration of his own nature, and of that Being on whom he has a dependence. If he looks into himself, he cannot but re- joice in that existence which is so lately bestowed on 115 him, and which, after millions of ages, will be still new and still in its beginning. How many self-congratula- tions naturally arise in tlie mind when it reflects on this its entrance into eternity, when it takes a view of those improvable faculties which in a few years, and even atl2C his first setting out, liave made so considerable a prog- ress, and which will be still receiving an increase of perfection, and conse(iuently an increase of happiness 1 Analysis. — 101. to bani- purchase of the Twickenham home to the time of bib death CRITICISM BY REV. STOPFORD BROOKE. Pope is our greatest master in didactic poetry, not so much because of the worth of the thouglits as because uf the masterly form in which they are put. The Easay 100 STUD FES IN EXGLISH LITERATURE. on Man, tlioiigh its philosophy is poor and not his own, is crowded with lines that have passed into daily use. The Essay on Critlcmn is equally full of critical precepts put with exquisite skill. The Satires and Epistles are also didactic. They set virtue and cleverness over against vice and stupidity, and they illustrate both by types of character, in tlie drawing of whicli Pope is without a rival in our literature. His translation of Homer is made with great literary art, but for that very reason it does not make us feel the simplicity and directness of Homer. It has neither the manner of Homer nor the spirit of the Greek life, just as Pope's descriptions of Nature have neither the manner nor the spirit of Nature. The heroic coiqdet, in which he wrote his translation and nearly all his work, he used in va- rious subjects with a correctness that has never been surpassed, but it sometimes fails from being too smooth and its cadences too regular. Finally, he was a true artist, hating those who degraded his art, and at a time when men followed it for money and place, and the applause of the club and of the town, he loved it faith- fully to the end for its own sake. ESSAY OX AfAN. Note. — The following are the closing lines of Epistle I. of Pop^t EsMy on Man : Far as creation's ample raiijre extends, The scale of sensual, mental powers ascends: Mark how it mounts to man's imperial race, From the green myriads in the j)eoplcd grass I A?rALvais. — 1. Supply ellipsis. What does this line modify? 1. 2. Name the suliject and the predicate of the sentence. 2. senxual here means " material." 3. Wiiat is the subject of jl/rtr/ii. Name also the niodiliereof 3/ar4 4. in Oie jicoplal groan. What kind of inodiliur '' ALEXANDER POPE. 101 What modes of sight betwixt each wide extreme I 5 The mole's dim curtain and the lynx's beam ; Of smell, the headlong lioness between, And hound sagacious on the tainted green; Of hearing, from the life that fills the flood To that which warbles through the vernal wood. 10 The spider's touch how exquisitely fine I Feels at each thread, and lives along the line : In the nice bee, what sense, so subtly true, From poisonous herbs extracts the healing dew I How instinct varies in the groveling swine, 16 Compared, half-reasoning elephant, with thine I 'Twixt that and reason what a nice barrier 1 For ever separate, yet for ever near ! Remembrance and reflection how allied ! What thin partitions sense from thought divide I 20 And middle natures — how they long to join, Yet never pass the insuperable line I Analysis. — 5. Sui>ply the ellipsis. What does the adjunct belcixt, etc. modify? G. Give the case of curtain and beam. Supply the ellipsis and ex- plain tlie line. . 7, 8. Write this in prose, supplying the ellipsis, and give the gram- matical construction of the words. 8. on the tauUed (jrcen, on the gr;iss tainted with the scent of game. WJiat figure? 9. the life that Jills the flood. Exj)laiu the figures. 10. Explain the line. Name the figure. 11. Name the suhject and the predicate. 12. Supply the subjects necessary to complete the sense. 13. Dispose of so and subtly. 14 Name (he subject of extracts. 16 elepliant. Give the ca^se. xvilh thine. Thine has the possessive form, but it is in the ob» jeci've ca*€ after v)i(h. 18. For ever separate, etc. Supply the ellipsis. 19. Supply the predicate, and parse. 20. sennefrom thought divide, sensation from reason. What figure? 21. middle natvres. Give the construction. 102 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURR Without this just gradation could they be Subjected, these to those, or all to thee ? The powers of all subdued by thee alone, 25 Is not thy reason all these powers in one ? See through this air, this ocean, and this earth, All matter quick, and bursting into birth I Above, how high progressive life may go I Around, how wide I how deep extend below 1 30 Vast chain of being, which from God began I — Natures ethereal, human, angel, man, Beast, bird, fish, insect, what no eye can see, No glass can reach ; from infinite to thee. From thee to nothing. On superior powers 86 Were we to press, inferior might on ours; Or in the full creation leave a void, Where, one step broken, the great scale's destroyed: From Nature's chain whatever link you strike, Tenth, or tcn-tiiousandth, breaks the chain alike. 40 And, if each system in gradation roll Alike essential to the amazing whole, The least confusion but in one, not all That system only, but the whole, must fall. Analysis. — 24. the»e to those, or all to thee. Parse. 25. all subdued, etc. Give grammatical construction. 28. Dispose of quick and bursting. 29. What does above, how high, modify? 30. around, how wide! Wliat do these words modify? What does how, deep, below, each mcxlify? 31-35. These five liiuvs, ending witli the word nothing, are inde- pendent in construction. 33. what no eye can see, etc. ; that is, microscopic beings. 34. What participle is understood before /row infinite f 35. 36. On superior powers were we to press. Give the mode of each »erb. 37 38. Give the mrwle of the verbs in these lines. 39 Give the Cf)nstnicti()n of whatever. iO. What do tenth, ten-thousandth, and alike modify? 42. alike essential. Wbat does each word uio*i Safe in the hand of one disposing Power, Or in the natal or the mortal hour. Analysis. — 63. Give construction of That. Name the predicates. chant/ed through all. Wliat does the plirase modify? 64. Great in the earth, etc. Supply ellipsis in this line. 68. Parse undivided and unspent. 70. As full, as perfect, etc. Supply ellipsis. in a hair as heart. Supply ellipsis. 72. As the rapt seraph. Supply ellipsis. 73. To him no high, etc. What is the meaning of this line? 75. nor order imperfection name ; that is, do not call order imperfeo- Uon. Imperfection is here a factitive noun. (See Ilaub's Grammar, p. 164, note 4.) 76 Dispose of what. 77. Know thy own point, etc. Naturally, what follows would be ir Iroduced by the conjunction that. 77, 78. The . . . thee. Name the subject. 80. Secure to be, etc. Dispose of secure. 81. Point out and name the figure. 82. Or .... or. Actxjrding to modern usage this would be «tfA«r » , . or. Meaning of milal and martal lionrf CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITERS. 10b All nature is but art, unknown to thee ; All chance, direction which thou canst not see ; All discord, harmony not understood ; Sfi All partial evil, universal good. And spite of pride, in erring reason's spite. One truth is clear : Whatever is, is right. Analysis. — 83-86. Supply ellipsis Eewrite. Name the subjectfl »nd the predicates. 88. Whatever is, is right. Give graminalical construction of each of these words. The whole sentence is in apposition with what? CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITERS. POETS. Matthew Prior (16G4-1721).— Educated at St. John's College, Cambridge. In early life a waiter at a hotel. Author of Solo- mon and a number of lighter poems. John Gay (1G88-1732). — A brilliant poet. Noted for his grace of expression. Author of Trivia and The Beggafi Opera. Dr. Edward Young (1681-17G5).— Author of Night Thoughts, a sombre f)oem, written in blank verse. Allan Ramsay (1(58()-1758). — A Scotch writer, mostly of lyrics. First a wig-nuiker, then a bookseller. Author of The Gentle Shepherd and The Yellow-haired Laddie. James Thomson (1700-1748). — The son of a minister. Edu- cated at the University of Ediuburgh. Was made surveyor- general of the TiCeward Islands, where he jtaid a man to do the work while he si)ent the time in writing poetry, Author of The Seasons and 77ie Castle of Indolence. William Collins (1721-1759). — Celebrated as a writer of odes. Educated at Oxford. Was also a fine descriptive writer. Hia best poems are The Passions and his odes to Liberty and Evening. Mark Akenside (1721-1770). — Was a physician, liis chiff poem is his Pleasures of the Imagination 106 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. PROSE- WRITERS. Sir Richard Steele (1671-1729). — A great essayist. Born in Dublin of English parents. A schoolmate of Addison, both iu London and at Oxford. Founded The Tailer in 1709, the orig- inal of periodical literature. Began The Spectator with Addison iu 1711, both being contributors of rare merit. Died in poverty in Wales, having been a great spendthrift most of his life. Jonathan Swift (1067-1745). — A writer of keen satires. Edu- cated at Trinity College, Dublin. Took holy orders in 1693. Became dean of St. Patrick's, Dublin, iu 1713. His two greatest works are the Tale of a Tub, a satire on Presbyterians and Papists, and Gulliver's Travels, a political satire. Swift died insane. Daniel Defoe (1661-1731).— The son of a London butcher. A voluminous writer of fiction and political pamphlets. Was unexcelled in painting fiction in the colors of truth. His style is simple and natural. Author of Robinson Crusoe. Sir Isaac Newton (1042-1727). — A distinguished philosopher. Educated at Trinity College, Cambridge. Author of Principia, a work on Optics, etc. George Berkeley (1684-1753).— Known as "Bishop Berke- ley." A noted but erratic metaphysical writer. Author of I'heory of Vision. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu (1690-1762).— Best known by her graceful and graphic Letters, descriptive of travel and foreign fashions. VI. AGE OF JOHJN'SOK. 17S0-1800. * Reigns of George II. and George III. Tiifi dge of Johnson, which includes the latter half of the eighteenth century, presents literature of a higher moral tone than that of the preceding age. The writers of this age also were less artificial in the^.r mode of ex- pression, and depended more on Nature to furnish both sentiment and thought. It was a time also in which nearly all the writers led a precarious life, many of them often being on the verge of starvation. It was a time when, as Macaulay paints it, " all that is squalid and miserable might now be summed up in the word •poety Some, indeed, like Johnson, struggled through difficulties to fame and competence, but the great mass lived in garrets and cellars, doing the work of literary hacks, and died in the most extreme poverty. 9. THOMAS GRAY, 1716-1771. Thomas Gray, the most artistic of English poets, was born in Cornhill on the 26th of December, 1716. His father, a money-scrivener by profession, was a man of such violent temper that Mrs. Gray separated from him, and in partnership with her sister opened a mil- linery-ahop in Cornhill. \\\i\\ her savings in this es- 107 108 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. tahlishment she educated her son. Ha\dng a brother at Eton who was one of the masters, she sent Thomas thither, and here he was prepared for college. Among his most valued friends was Horace Walpole, after- ward a prose-writer of great merit. At the age of nineteen Gray entered Peterhouse Col- lege at Cambridge as a pensioner. But school-life was unpleasant to him ; he had no taste for either mathe- matics or metaphysics, though he was particularly fond of the classics. At the close of his school-life he and Walpole undertook a tour of France and Italy. Their tastes, however, were so at variance that they finally quarreled and separated. Gray returned to England, and after his father's death settled at Cambridge, where he spent most of the subsequent part of his life. He was not fond of the place, but he was an ardent lover of books, and the University libraries were the great attraction to him. A madcap freak of some of tlie students at Pe- terhouse, by which, with the cry of lire, tliey frightened Gray to such an extent that he threw his rope ladder from his window and then hastily descended, only to drop into a tub of water placed to receive him, caused him to remove from Peterhouse to Pembroke J I all. Gray's first poem, his Ode to Spring, a]>peared in 1742, and soon thereafter he produced also an excellent poem entitled A Distant Prospect of Eton Chllege. though it was not published until some years later. In 1757, the post of poet-laureate having become va- cant through the death of Collcy Cibber, the position was offered to Gray, but he declined it. Eleven years later he accepted the professorship of Modern History at Cambridge, a position worth four hundred pounds a year, wliich lie had Ix-en seeking for some years. Cxray is best known by his /'-V^^.v m a Country Church- THOMAS GRAY. 109 yard, published in 1750. It is said that the poet re- vised and corrected this poem for eight 3'ears before giving it to the public. It ran rapidly through eleven editions, and it has been translated more than fifty times, into German, Italian, Greek, Latin, Hebrew, and Portuguese. By some the two odes. The Progress of Poesy and T?i.e Bards, are considered his best poems, but neither of these is so popular as the Elegy. Gray was the author also of many excellent letters, written while he was traveling among the lakes of Cumberland and West- moreland. Having been long afflicted with the gout, he died of this disease in his fifty-sixth year, and was, at his own request, buried by the side of his mother, to whom he had always been most tenderly attached. CRITICISM BY MACKINTOSH. Gray was a poet of a far higher order than Gold- smith, and of an almost opposite kind of merit. Of all English poets, he was the most finished artist. He at- tained the highest kind of splendor of which poetical style seems capable Almost all Gray's poetry was lyrical — that species which, issuing from the mind in the highest state of excitement, requires an intensity of feeling which, for a long composition, the genius of no poet could support. Those who com])lained of its brevity and rajiidity only confessed their own inability to follow the movements of poetical inspiration. Of the two grand attributes of tlio ode, Dryden had dis- played the enthusiasm, Gray exhibited the magnif- icence. He is also the only modern English writer whose Latin verses deserve general notice, but we must lament that sucli dillicult trifles had diverted his genius from its natural objects. no STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. ELEGY WRITTEN IN A COUNTRY CHURCHYARD 1 . The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way. And leaves the world to darkness and tc me. 2. Now fades the glimmering landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save whore the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds: 8. Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower, The moping owl does to the moon comjjlain Of such as, wandering near her secret bower. Molest her ancient solitary reign. 10 Notes. — 1. The curfew. In olden times a bell was rung at night- fall as a signal to cover fires. The word is derived from tlie I'rcnch couvrir, to cover, and feu, fire. 11. bower, from Anglo-Saxon bur, a cottage. Used by G ray in tlie sense of a chamber or ](iiiging-j)lace. IG. rude forefathers ; that is, un- ctUlMied anccstore. Analysis. — 1. toUi> (he kndl. Wliat figure? of parting day. ^Vllat figure? 2. The lowing herd What figure? Sliould the verb be winds or vindf 3. The plmvman, etc. Rewrite this line in as many ways as yoii (aa 6. glimmering landscape. What figure? Analyze the sentence. 6. Dispose of slillnens. What figure in the line? 7. 8. What kind of elements do these linos form? 8. Point out the figure.-* in the line. 9 Dispose of Save. ivy-mauded. What figure? 9-12. What kind of clause? 10. What figure in the line? 11. 0/ nuch lis. Parse mich and as. wandering, etc. What is tlie ofllce of this phrase? 12. reign is here used in the sense of realm. THOMAS GRAY. Ill 4. Beneath those nigged elms, that yew tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mouldering uoap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, IS The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep. 5. The breezy call of incense-breathing morn, The swallow twittering from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn. No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed. 20 6. For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn. Or busy housewife ply her evening care : No children run to lisp their sire's return. Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share. 7. Oft did the harvest to their sickle yield, 25 Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; How jocund did they drive their team a-field I How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke I Analysis. — 13-16. Beneath, etc. This is a periodic sentence. R^ write in prose order. 13. Parse tlie word shade. 14. What does the line modify? 15. Each, Dispose of. Name modifiers of laid. What figures in the line ? 16. What figure in the line ? 17. Tlie breezy call, e.ic. What figure? 18. The sinallow twIUering. What figure ? 19. Point out the figure in tlie line? 20. Subject of shall rouse f 21. blazing Itearlh fhall hum. What figure? 22. evening care. Name the figure. 23. children. Notice that this is a double plural. Tl.e old fona was childer, to which lias been added the Anglo-Saxon plural ending en, thus making the word childeren, since changed to childreiu 23, 24. Explain the force of the infinitives in these lines. 25. Point out the figure in the line. 26. furrow and stubborn glebe. Explain the figures. has broke. Why this form ? 27. a-field. Explain. 2S. bowed the woods, etc. What figure? 112 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. 8. Let not Ambiti'm mook their useful toil, Tlieir homely joys, and destiny obscure; SO Nor Grandeur hear, with a tlisdaiuful smile, The short and simple annals of the poor. 9. The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power. And all that beauty, all that wealtli, e'er gave, Awaits alike the inevitable hour: — 85 The paths of glory lead but to the grave. 10 Nor you, ye proud, impute to these the fault, If Memory o'er their tomb no trophies raise, Where, through the long-drawn aisle and fretted vault, The pealing anthem swells the note of praise. 40 11. Can storied urn or animated bust Back to its mansion call the lleetinsc breath? Analysis. — 29. "What figure on Ambition t In what mode is mockf Name the objects of mock. 30. What is the effect of hj in such words as homely f 31. Ch'andeur. What figure on this word? toil and smile. Criticise the rhyme. 33-35. What is the subject of the sentence? Many edilions give the word aivails "await," on the suppositiun that lines 33 and 34 constitute the subject. 34. Name the figures in the line. 35. inevitable hour. What is tlie mcaninj^ ? 36. but. Grammatical construction? What does the word modify? 37. ye proud. Grammatical construction ? 38. Point out and name figures in the line. Name the modifiers of raise. 39. 40. These lines refer to Wcslininstcr Alihey, because of its being the biirial-|)]ace of Chaucer, Spenser, Dryden, and others. 39. The meaning of /rW/er// Meaning of mu/< .' 41. tloried, painted witli stories, usually from Scripture. storied wn. To what custom does this refer? animated bust. Is " animated " aj^ood word in referring here U> a marble hust ? 42. PoiiU out the figure in the luie. THOMAS GRAY. 113 Can Honor's voice provoke the silent dust, Or Flattery soothe the dull cold ear of Death ? 12. Perhaps in this neglected spot is laid 45 Some heart once pregnant with celestial fire ; Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed, Or waked to ecstasy the living lyre : 13. But Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er unroll ; 50 Chill Penury repressed their noble rage, And froze the genial current of the soul. 14. Full many a gem, of purest ray serene, The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear : Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 65 And waste its sweetness on the desert air. 15. Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast The little tyrant of his fields withstood ; Notes. — 50. unroll. Volumes of manuscript were formerly in the shape of a roll. 51. "age, inspii-ation. &c purest ray serene. This is an imitation of Milton's fa- vorite arrangement of ad- jectives. 57. Hampden. John Hampden was an English statesman and patriot, and a strong opponent of Charles I. Also, subsequently a leader in the Civil War. He received his death-wound in the fight at Chalgrove Field. Analysis. — 43. Honor's voice. What figure? provoke, meaning, in its etymological sense, " to call forth." silent dust. What figure ? 44 Point out the figure in the line. 46, Meaning of tlie line? Point out the figure. 47. Disj)ose of tlie words Haicds and that. 47 48. Meaninj^ of each line? Figure in each? 49 50. Point out the figures. 51 Chill Penury. What figure? 52. froze .... current. Meaning and figure? 63. Dispose of Full antl inany a. 65. to bliish unseen. Grummatical construction ? 8 114 STUDIES IN ENGLISU LITERATURE. Some mute inglorious Milton here may rest, Some Cromwell guiltless of his country's blood. 60 16. Th' applause of listening senates to command, The threats of pain and riiin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, And read their history in a nation's eyes, 17. Their lot forbade: nor circumscribed alone 66 Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined ; Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, And shut the gates of mercy on mankind, 18. The struggling pangs of conscious truth to hide, To quench the blushes of ingenuous shame, 70 Or heap the shrine of Luxury and Pride With incense kindled at the Muse's tlame. 19. Far from the madding crowd's ignoble strife Their sober wishes never learned to stray; Along the cool, sequestered vale of life 75 They kept the noiseless tenor of their way. Notes. — 66. Their growing vir- tues, the growth of their virtues. 73. madding, furious. ignoble strife, dishonorable contention. Analysis. — 59. What is meant by mxUe inglorious Milton f Milton. Who waa Milton? 60. WIio was OroniweU f How does the poet imply his belief in Cromwell's guilt? 61-65. Name tlie ph raee-objecta o{ forbade. 64. Give the mode of read. 6^ circaniHO Hied. Name tiie siibji-ct. 67 Forbade. What is the snl>jeet? Name the five ithraae-o^i»M:to. 67-72. Name the modifiers of each iiiliiiitive. 70-72. Name tlie fij^ures in tliese lines. 73. What doe« the line modify? 75. vale of life. What figure? 75, 76. Express the two lines in proae. 76. Mtuning of noisclasH tenor of their way f THOMAS GRAY. 116 20 Yet e'en these bones from insult to protect, Some frail memorial still erected nigh, With uncouth rhymes and shapeless sculpture decked, Implores the passing tribute of a sigh. 80 21. Their name, their years, spelt by th' unlettered muse, Tlie place of fame and elegy supply. And many a holy text around she strews, That teacli the rustic moralist to die. 22. For who, to dumb Forgetfulness a prey, 85 This pleasing anxious being e'er resigned, Left the warm precincts of the cheerful day, Nor cast one longing, lingering look behind? 23. On some fond breast the parting soul relies, Some pious drops the closing eye requires ; 90 E'en from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, E'en in our ashes live their wonted fires. 24. For thee, who, mindful of the unhonored dead. Dost in these lines their artless tale relate ; Notes. — 77. these bones, their I 84. to die, how to die. bones. 88. Nor cast ; that is, did not cast. 79. uncouth, rude. 93. For thee ; that is, as for thee. Analysis. — 77-80. Write the stanza in prose. 81. ITieir name. To what does Tlieir refer? Meaning of unlellered muse f 81, 82. Predicate of the sentence? 84. That teach. What is the antecedent of That* Should the word be teach or teaches f 84. Moaning of runtic moralist f 85,86. Rewrite in prose order. Graniniatical cuiistruction of jjreyf 87. cheerful day. What figure ? 88, Give tlie syntax of the word behind. 9C What is the meaning of pious drops f What figure? 91. Point out the figure in the line. 91, 92. Explain the use of E'en. 93. Who is meant by thee t 94. Give the meaning of artUaa 116 STUDIES ly ENGLISH LITERATURE. If chance, by lonely Contemplation led, 90 Some kindred spirit shall inquire thy fate ; 26. Haply some hoary-headed swain may say, — " Oft have we seen him at the peep of dawn Brushing with hasty steps tlie dews away, To meet the sun upon the ujjland lawn. IM 26. " There at the foot of yonder nodding beech, That wreathes its old fantastic roots so high, His listless length at noontide would he stretch, And pore upon the brook that babbles by. 27. "Hard by yon wood, now smiling as in scorn, 105 Muttering his wayward fancicis he would rove ; Now drooping, woeful, wan, like one forlorn, Or crazed wnth care, or crossed in hopeless love 28. " One morn I missed him on the 'customed hill, Along the heath and near his favorite tree; 110 Another came; nor yet beside the rill. Nor uj) the lawn, nor at the wood was he. NoTBS. — 95. If chance, if per- j 105. Hard by, close by. chance. I 111. another came, auolher 97. Haply, posaibly, morn came. Analysis. — 95. by lonely, etc. What does the i)lirai>e nuxlify? 97. hoary-headed. Give meaning. 101-103. Name modifiers of stretch. Is beech and ulretch a good rhyme ? 103. What is the meaning of liglieas lenf/lhf 104. Meaning of pore in this line? Point out the fi>,niro in the line. 105. now itniction. 0. thon/jhtlexxneag. Give graiiimatical ('onstruction. 10. Sti-eam of Time. W'liat ti^ure? 11 on a wchlen. Substitute a single word. Jilled. CJiive tlie gniiiuiiatical const nu'tion. 13k whistle of wiiulu, on deMr act ion. What figure? 124 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. The vessels in which they had embarked, being con- fessedly unequal to the turbulence of the Stream of SO Life, were visibl}^ impaired in the course of the voj'age; 80 that every passenger was certain, that how long soever hfe might, by favorable accidents or by incessant vigil- ance, be preserved, lie must sink at last. This necessity of perishing might have been expected 85 to sadden the gay and intimidate the daring, at least to keep the melancholy and timorous in jun'petual torments, and liinder tliem fi'om any enjoyment of tlie varieties and gratifications whicli Nature offered them as the solace of their labor. Yet, in effect, none seemed less 90 to ex])ect destruction than those to whom it was most dreadful ; they all had the art of concealing their dan- gers from themselves ; and those who knew their in- ability to bear the siglit of the terrors that embarrassed their way took care never to look forward, but found 95 some amusement for the present moment, and generally entertained themselves by playing with Hope, who was the constant associate of the Voyage of Life. Yet all that Hope ventured to promise, even to those whom she favored most, was, not that they should escape, 100 but that they should sink at last; and witli this ])romise every one was satisfied, thougli he lauglicd at tlie rest for seeming to l>elieve it. Hope, indeed, apparently mocked the credulity of her companions; for, in ])ro- Analysis. — 81, 82. voyage .... every jiaitseiiijer. What figuree? 82. Parse how and merer. So. Name the infinitive modifiers of erpeded. 89. Wiiat fifoire on Nature? 90. What does le»s modify ? 97,98. Hope .... cfKOciule. Wliat fij?nre«? 99. Give the grammatical construction of even. 100. nhefovnred, etc. What figure? 104. Meaning of cre^iUilyf SAMUEL JOHNSON. 125 portion as their vessels grew leaky, she redoubled her 103 assurances of safety : and none were more busy in mak- ing provisions for a long voyage than they whom all but themselves saw likely to perish soon by irreparable decay. In the midst of the Current of Life was the Gulf of 110 Intemperance — a dreadful whirlpool, interspersed with rocks, of which the pointed crags were concealed under water, and the tops covered with herbage on which Ease spread couches of repose, and with shades where Pleas- ure warbled the song of invitation. Within sight of these 115 rocks aU who sailed on the Ocean of Life must neces- sarily pass. Reason, indeed, was always at hand to steer the passengers through a narrow outlet by which they might escape ; but very few could, by her entreaties or remonstrances, be induced to put the rudder into her 120 hand without stipulating that she should approach so near unto the rocks of Pleasure that they might solace themselves with a short enjoyment of that delicious region ; after which they always determined to pursue their course without any other d(!viation. 12J Reason was too often prevailed upon so far by these promises as to venture her charge within the eddy of the Analysis. — 105. vessels grew leaky. Explain tlie figure. 106-109. Twne wei-e .... deaiy. Analyze. 110. Name the figures in this line. 111, 112. whirlpool and rocks. Explain the figures. 113. I'oint out the figure. 113, 114. Ease .... couches of repose. What figures? 114, 115. shades where Pleasure, etc. Explain the figure* 117. What figure on Reason* 118. narrow outlet. What figure? 119 Parse but very few. 120, \21. Point out the figure in tlieae lines. 123.124. delicious region. What figure? 126. prevailed upon. Parse. 12B STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. Gulf of Tiitemperance, where, indeed, the circumvolution was weak, but yet interrupted the course of the vessel, and drew it by insensible rotations toward the centre. loO Slie tlien repented her temerity, and, with all her force, endeavored to retreat: but the drauy;ht of the gulf was generally too strong to be overcome ; and the passenger, having danced in circles with a jileasing and giddy ve- locity, was at last overwhelmed and lost. Those few 135 whom Reason was aljle to extricate generally suffered so many shocks upon the points which shot out from the rocks of Pleasure, tliat tliey were unable to continue their course with the same strength and facility as before, but floated along timorously and feebly, endangered by 140 every breeze, and sliattered by every ruflie of the water, till they sank by slow degrees, after long struggles and innumerable expedients, always repining at their own folly, and warning others against the first approach to the Gulf of Intemperance. 145 There were artists who professed to repair the breaches and stop the leaks of the vessels which had been shat- tered on the rocks of Pleasure. Many ai)peared to have great confidence in their skill; and some, indeed, were preserved by it from sinking who had received only a 15C single blow ; but I remarked that few vessels lasted long which had been much repaired ; nor was it found that the artists themselves continued afloat longer than those who had least of their assistance. Anai^ysis. — 128, 129. circumvolution i/a.s weak. What figure T 132. the fbaughl, etc. P^xplain the figure. 134. Wliat does the phrase having danced, etc. niudify i' 141. Point out the (iguree in the line. 144. fiml approcuih. Name the figure 146. artists . . . . lo repair the breaches. What figures? 147, 148. Name the figures in these lines. lol, 152. vessels .... much repaired. What figure? SAMUEL JOHNSON. 1 27 The only advantage which, in the Voyage of Life, the 16A cautious had above the negligent, was that they sank later and more suddenly ; for they passed forward till they had sometimes seen all those in whose company they had issued from tlie Straits of Infancy perish in the way, and at last were overset by a cross-breeze, with- 160 out the toil of resistance or tlie anguish of expectation. But such as had often fallen against the rocks of Pleas- ure commonly subsided by sensible degrees, contended long with the encroaching waters, and harassed them- selves by labors that scarce Hope herself could flatter 165 with success. As I was looking upon the various fate of the multi- tude about me, I was suddenly alarmed with an ad- monition from some unknown Power: "Gaze not idly upon others when thou thyself art sinking. Whence 170 is this thoughtless tranquillity, when thou and they are equally endangered ?" I looked, and, seeing the Gulf of Intemperance before me, started and awaked. Analysis. — 157. Parse forward and till. IGO. were oveiset. Explain the tigure. 162. Explain the line and name tlie figures. 164. eTKrroacking waters. Kxjjlain and name the figure. 165. DiHpose of the word scarce. 167. various fate. Give a modern form. 172. Dispose of seeing. What does the participial phrase modify? 173. E.xplaiu the figure in thij line. 11. OLIVER GOLDSMITH, 1728-1774. Oliver Goldsmith, the most charming and versatile «. 208, note 1.) 33. Write tliis line in prose order. 84. are fled. Give the modern form. 30. smiling village. What figure? 36. withdrawn. P^xplain. OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 133 Amidst thy bowers the tyrant's hand is seen^ And desolation saddens all thy green: One only master granps the whole domain, And half a tillage stints thy smiling plain. 40 No more thy glassy brook reflects the day, But, choked with sedges, works its weary way. Along thy glades, a solitary giiest. The hollow-dounding bittern guards its nest; Amidst thy desert-walks the lapwing flies, iS And tires their echoes with unvaried cries; Sunk are tiiy bowers in shapeless ruin all ; And the long grass o'ertops the mouldering wall ; And trembling, shrinking from the spoiler's hand, Far, far away, thy children leave the land. 60 III fares the land, to hastening ills a prey. Where wealtli acouinulates and men decay: Princes and lords may flourish or may fade (A breath can make them, as a breath has made) ; But a bold peasantry, their country's pride, 65 When once destroy'd, can never be supplied. NoTKS. — 39. one only, one single 45. desert, deserted. or sole. 40. stints, etc., deprives of fruit- fulness. 49. the spoiler's hand. This re«- fers to the oppression of the extensive landiiulJers. Analysis. — 38. rlesohUion saddens .... green, Wlial figure? 40. Dispose of half a. 41, 42. E.Kplain the meaning of these lines. 43, 44. Meaning of bittern f Give grammatical construction (J guest and bittern. 47. Rewrite in prose order. 48 o'ertops. Explain the use of the apostrophe. 51. Parse HI and ills. 52. Moaning of decay here? Rewrite the line in prose. 53^-56. Explain these lines. Is »na!/ /ac/e literal or figurative? 54. Point out the figure in the line. 65. Meaning of a bold peasantry? 134 STUDIES IN EXGLISH LITERATURE. A time there was, ere England's griefs began, When every rood of ground maintaiu'd its man: For him light Labor spread her wholesome store, Just gave what life required, but gave no more; 60 Ilis best companions, innocence and health; And his best riches, ignorance of wealth. But times are altor'd : Trade's unfeeling train Usurp the land, and dispossess the swain. Along the lawn where scatter'd hamlets rose, M Unwieldy wealth and cumbrous pomp repose, And every want to luxnry allied. And every pang tliat folly pays to y>ride. Tliose gentle hours tlial I'lenly l)ade to bloom ; Those calm desires that ask'd but little room ; 70 Those healthful sports that graced the ]ieaceful sceno, liived in ench look, and i)righten'd all the green, — These, far departing, seek a kinder shore; And rural mirtii and manners are no more. Sweet Auburn, ])arent of the blissful hour! 76 Thy glades Ibrlorn confess the tyrant's power. Here as I take my solitary rounds Amidst thy tangling walks and ruin'd grounds, Norns. — 5S. maintain'd, sup- porled. fi."), lawn, plain. 76. confess, slmw. 70. the tyrant's power. This silso rt'fVi-8 to the ojipres- siiiii of the extensive Isiul- lidldors. ANAr.YSis. — 57. Dis])ose of there and ere. 59. li(/ht L'ibnr, elc. Wluil lij,Mir('V 60. Jud ifur, etc. SIioiiM this iioi he (juvcjuj^t, etc.? 61. Ct'l. Supply the ellipsi>i. 63. ure alter' d. (iive present form. 63, 64. \Vlia«, figure in these lines? 66. "NVliat fig ire in this line? 67, 68. Dispose of want and jxing. 69. Plenty bade. What figure? 69-71. (live construction of hourx, demres, leporiM. 76. gin dcs forlorn. DisjjORc of /or/orn. 77. What does Here modify? Give the meaning of take my solitary rounds. OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 1^ And, many a year elapsed, return to view Where once the cottage stood, the hawi^horn grew, Remembrance wakes with all her busy train,^ Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. In all my wanderings round this world of care, In all my griefs— and God has given my share— I still had hopes, my latest hours to crown. Amidst these humble bowers to lay me down ; To husband out life's taper at the close, And keep the flame from wasting by repose; T still had hopes, for pride attends us still, Amidst the swains to show my book-learn'd skill, Around my fire an evening group to draw, And tell of all I felt, and all I saw ; And, as a hare whom hounds and horns pursue, Pant's to the place from whence at first he flew, I still had hopes, my long vexations past, Here to return,- and die at home at last. O blest retirement, friend to life's decline. Retreats from care, that never must be mine! How blest is he who crowns, in shades like these, A youth of labor with an age of ease ; Who quits a world where strong temptations try. And, since 'tis hard to combat, learns to fly! For him no wretches, born to work and weep. Explore the mine or tempt th e dang erous deep ; Analysis.— 79. Dispose of e/upwrf. _ 8i. Eemer,U,rance .... train. Explain the line and give the figur«>. 87. Tohu.-ibandoullif^slui>cr. What figure'/ 90. Transpose this line. 92. Dispose of Idt. 93 94 Criticise these lines according to modern usage 95^ 96. These two lines seem to express what has before been ex- pres.':*d ii lines 83-88. 97. U blest retirement. What figure? 98. must. Wo\ild the word mn express the meaning here? 99. who ci-oxms, etc. What figiu-es? 101, 102. Explain these lines. 103. To what does him refer? 80 86 90 96 100 180 STUDIES IN EXGLTSIT LITERATURE. Nor surly porter stands in guilty state, lOl To spurn imj)loring famine from the gate: Ba'. on he moves to meet his latter end, Angels around befriending Virtue's friend ; Sinks to the grave with unperceived decay, While resignation gently slopes the way; IIC And, all his prospects brightening to the last, His Heaven commences ere the world be past. Sweet was the sound, when oft, at evening's close, V]) yonder hill the village murmur rose; There, as I pass'd with careless steps and slow, 115 The mingling notes came soften'd from below : The swain re-sponsive as the milkmaid sung, The sober herd that low'd to meet their young. The noisy geese that gabbled o'er the pool. The playl'ul children just let loose :*''"(»m school, 120 The watch-dog's voice that bay'd the whispering wind, And the loud laugh that spoke the vacant mind, — These all in sweet confusion sought the shade. And fill'd each pause the nightingale had made. But now the sounds of population fail ; 125 No cheerful murmurs fluctuate in the gale ; Notes. — 121. bay'd, barked at. 122. that spoke, etc., that in- dicated, etc. 123. sweet confusion shade; that is, were all heard in confusion aa night ap- proached. 124. each |)ause, etc., each in- tern) ission in the night ingale's song. Analysis. — 104. Give the meaning of the line. 106. imploring famine. What figure? Kx plain the line. 107. What does the line mean? 110. resignalion .... slopen. What figure? 112. Dispcse of ere, and exj»lain the linp. 113, 114. Rewrite the lines in prose order. 115. What is the meaning of careless as used here? 116. Dispose of helmn. 118. sober herd. Wliat figure? 125. tfmmdn af popnUilion fail. Explain. 126. fiiLCtualf in the gnU. What ia the meaninsf? OLIVER GOLDSMITH. 137 No busy step.'i the r!;rass-grown footway tread ; For all the blooming flush of life is fled, — All but yon widow'd, solitary thing Tiiat feebly bends beside the plashy spring: 13C She, wretched matron ; forced in age, for bread, To strip the brook with mantling cresses spread, To pick her wintry fagot from the thorn^ To seek her nightly shed, and weep till morn, — She only left of all the harmless train, 135 The sad historian of the pensive plain ! Near yonder copse, whore once the garden smiled, And still where many a gardeu-flower grows wild, — There, where a few torn shrubs the place disclose, The village preacher's modest mansion rose. 140 A man he was to all the country dear. And passing rich with forty pounds a year. Remote from towns he ran his godly race. Nor e'er had changed, nor wished to change, his place Unpracticed he to fawn, or seek for power. 115 By doctrines fashion'd to the varying hour ; Notes. — 137. copse, woods of I 142. passing, moderately, small growth ; brush. | 147. far other, tar higher. Analysis. — 128. Give tlie meaning of blooming .... is JUd. Modernize. What figure in the line? 129. Dispose of 6?t<. 131. for bread. Show wli.Tt it modifies. 134. For what is the word morn a Bubetitute? \\'hat figrre of ortJiography? 131-135. Dispose of tlie word ahe in each line. IS** Dispose of the word li i.-lores that luckless hour When idly first, ambitious of the town, 335 She left her wheel, and robes of country brown. Do thine, sweet Auburn I thine, the loveliest train, — Do thy fair tribes participate her pain ? E'en now, perhaps, by cold and hunger led, At proud men's doors they ask a little bread. 340 Ah, no! to distant climes, a dreary scene, Where half the convex world intrudes between, Through torrid tracks with fainting steps they go. Where wild Altama murmurs to their woe. Far different there from all that charm'd before, 346 The various terrors of that horrid shore, — Those blazing suns that dart a tlownward ray, And fiercely shed intolerable day ; Those matted woods where birds forget to sing, But silent bats in drowsy clusters cling ; 350 Those poisonous fields with rank luxuriance crown'd. Where the dark scorpion gathers death around ; Where at each step the stranger fears to wake The rattling terrors of tlie vengeful snake ; Where crouching tigers wait their hapless prey, 355 And savage men more murderous still than they; While oft in whirls the mad tornado files, Mingling the ravaged landscajie with the skies. Far different these from every former scene, — The cooling brook, the grassy-vested green, 860 The breezy covert of the warbling grove, That only shelter'd tliefts of harmless love. (iood Heaven I what sorrows gloom'd tliat parting day That call'd them from their native walks away; When the poor exiles, every pleasure past, 365 Hung round the bowens, and fondly hjok'd their laat, Note.-— 34'! Altama, the Alt:i- | of" tlie boiitularies of Ogl©- malia River in Geor;;ia, one | lli:)r|u''s ;^ranl of land. 370 875 380 OLIVER GOLDSMITH. ^^ And took a long farewell, and wish'd in vain For seats like these beyond the western main ; And, shuddering still to face the distant deep, Return'd and wept, and still returu'd to weep. The good old sire was first prepared to go To new-found worlds, and wept for others' woe ; But, for himself, in conscious virtue brave, He only wish'd for worlds beyond the grave. His lovely daughter, lovelier in her tears, The fond companion of his helpless years, Silent went next, neglectful of her charms, And left a lover's for her father's arms. With louder plaints the mother spoke her woea, And bless'd the cot where every pleasure rose ; And kiss'd her thoughtless babes with many a teai, And clasp'd them close, in sorrow doxibly dear ; Whilst her fond husband strove to lend relief In all the silent manliness of grief. O luxury ! thou curst by Heaven's decree, 385 How ill exchanged are things like these for thee I How do thy potions, with insidious joy, Diffuse their pleasures only to destroy I Kingdoms by thee, to sickly greatness-grown. Boast of a florid vigor not their own. 890 At every draught more large and large they grow, A bloated mass, of rank unwieldy woe ; Till, sapp'd their strength, and every part unsound, Down, down thoy sink, and spread a ruin round. E'en now the devastation is begun, 3W And half the business of destruction done ; E'en now, methinks, as pondering here I stand, 1 see the rural virtues leave the land. Down where yon anchoring vessel spreads the sail. That idly waiting flaps with every gale, *00 Downward they move, a melancholy band. Pass from the shore, and darken all the strand. Notes. — 368 seats, sites, loca- 368. main, sea. tions. I 402. strand, beach. 10 146 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. Contented toil, and hospitable care, And kind connubial tenderness, are there ; And piety with wishes placed above, 408 And steady loyalty, and faithful love. And thou, sweet Poetry, thou loveliest maid, Still first to fly where sensual joys invade; Unfit in these degenerate times of shame To catch the heart, or strike for honest fame; 110 Dear charming nymph, neglected and decried, My shame in crowds, my solitary pride ; Thou source of all my bliss and all my woe, Thou found'st me poor at first, and keep'st me so ; Thou guide, by which the noble arts excel ; 415 Thou nurse of every virtue, — fare thee well I Farewell I and, oh I where'er thy voice be tried, On Torno's cliffs, or Pambamarca's side. Whether where equinoctial fervors glow, Or Winter wraps the polar world in snow, 420 Still let thy voice, prevailing over time. Redress the rigors of the inclement clime ; Aid slighted Truth with thy persuasive strain ; Teach erring man to spurn the rage of gain ; Teach him that states of native strength possess'd, 425 Though very poor, may still be very bless'd ; That Trade's proud empire hastes to swift decay. As Ocean sweeps the labor'd mole away ; While self-dependent power can Time defy, 4S0 As rocks resist the billows and the sky. Notes.— 418. Torno's cliffs. Tliis probably refers to the clifls around Lake Tonic in Swe- den. 418. Pambamarca's side. Pam- liamarca is a mcuntalD near Quito, South Amer ica. 12. WILLIAM COWPER, 1731-1800. WiLi.TAM CowPER, wliom Soutliey speaks of as the " most popular poet of his generation, and the best of English letter-writers," was the son of the Rev. Dr. John Cowper, chaplain to George II., and grandson of Judge Spencer Cowper. His mother also was allied to some of the noblest fauiilies in England, and descended by four different lines from King Henry III. Dr. Cow- per at the time of William's Ijirth — which took place on the 15th of November, 1731 — was also rector of Great Berkhampstead, in Hertfordshire. Cowper's mother died when he was but six years of age, and he was soon thereafter taken to a boarding- school, where he was not only homesick and lonely, but compelled to suffer from the tyranny of one of his schoolfellows much older than himself, who cruelly crushed his spirit with rough blows and continual per- secution. It was here that the foundation was laid for that morbid sensitiveness and dislike for schools of all kinds wliich characterized him through life. At the age of eight he was taken from school, and placed for two years in tlie care of an oculist for treatment of his eyes. At the age of ten he was placed in Westminster School, where he remained seven years. He was placed in an attorney's office at eighteen, and here for three years he and a fellow-student, who after- ward became Lord Chancellor Thurlow, enjoyed them selves in pretending to study English law. This ex- perience was one of the few bright spots in the poet'« 147 148 STUDIES JN ENGLISH LITERATURE. life. Cowper, who was called to the bar in 1754, lived for some time an agreeable but idle life, spt-nding an hour now and then in writing a little for the serials of the day. Ir. 1768 a clerkship in the House of Lords was offered to him, but his slirinking nature forbade his accepting thi- post. AnoMier position was substituted, tliat of clerk of the journals of the House of Lords. But he was re- quired to pass an examination for this position, and in the effort to prepare himself his mind gave way and he tried to kill himself A deep religious melancholy took possession of him, and for a year and a lialf be remained an inmate of an asylum at St. Albans. Three times .sub- sequently his malad}' returned. In 1766 he became a member of Rev. Mr. Unwin's family, residing at Huntingdon ; and this proved to be the great blessing of his life. Cowper in one of his letters says of Mrs. Unwin, who became a widow in 1767, " Her behavior to me has always been that of a mother to her son." In 1773, Cowper became insane tbe second time, and for more than three years his terrible malady held possession of him. When he reeovere'i he resorted to gardening, the rearing of hares, and the writ- ing of poetry as recreation. The last of these fortunately became a permanent enjoymi-nt. His first ])ublished poems ajjpeared in 1782. The Tad-, by whicli he is best known, was pulilished in 1785, but previous to this the comic ballad of John Gilpin, written for the amusement of a few friends, had made all England merry with its humor. From 1776 to 1794, Cowper's mind was clear, except for a space of six months, and it was during these eight- een years that most of his poems were written. His verses On the Receipt of my MotJin-''.^ Piiinre are among the most touching in the language. WILLIAM GOWPER. 149 In 1791 he published a translation of Homer, but it was no improvement on the productions of his prede- cessors in this line. Toward the close of his unfortunate life his malady again settled on him, and he was gloomy and dejected almost constantly to the time of his death. In 1794 a pension of three hundred pounds was granted to him by the Crown. In 1796 his good friend Mrs. Unwin died. Cowper lingered almost four years longer, dying on the 25th of A])ril, 1800. CRITICISM BY CAMPBELL, The nature of Cowper's works makes us peculiarly identify the poet and the man in perusing them. As an individual he was retired and weaned from the van- ities of the world, and as an original writer he left the ambitious and luxuriant subjects of fiction for those of real life and simple Nature, and for the development of his own earnest feelings in behalf of moral and re- ligious truth. His language has such a masculine, idiomatic strength, and his manner, whether he rises into grace or falls into negligence, has so much plain and familiar freedom, that we read no poetry with a deeper conviction of its sentiments having come from the author's heart, and of the enthusiasm, in whatever he describes, having been unfeigned and unexaggerated. ON THE RECEIPT OF MY MOTHER'S PICTURE. Note. — These tender lines were written by Cowper in 1790, ten years before liis death, on the receipt of his mother's picture, sent to him by his cousin, Ann Bodham. Though his niotlier had die<1 fifty-three years before, he claimed to be an "ocular witness" to tKe fidelity of tlie picture. Oh that those lips had language I Life has passed With nio but roughly since I heard thee last ; \nalysis. — 2. Dispose of the words bid ronyhly. J 50 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. Those lips are thine — thine own sweet smile I see, The same that oft in childhood solaced me ; Voice only fails, else how distinct they say, 9 Grieve not, my child ; chase all thy fears away I" The meet intelligence of those dear eyes (Blest be the art that can immortalize I The art tliat baffles Time's tyrannic claim To quench it) here shines on me still the same. 10 Faithful remembrancer of one so dear, welcome guest, though unexpected here 1 Who bidd'st me honor with an artless song, Affectionate, a mother lost so long. 1 will obey — not willingly alone, 16 But gladly, as the ])recept were her own ; And, while that face renews my filial grief, Fancy shall weave a charm for my relief, Shall steep me in Elysian revery, A momentary dream that thou art she. 20 My mother ! when I learned that thou wast dead, Say, wast thou conscious of tlie tears I shed ? Hovered thy spirit o'er thy sorrowing son. Wretch even then, life's journey just begun ? Perhaps thou gav'st me, though unfelt, a kiss ; 26 Analysis. — 3. Give tiie case of thine. 5. Wliy only, in.stead of alone? Meaning of (het Dispose of diatinct. 7. meek intellujcnce. What figure ? 8. Wliat art is meant? 9. Timt^i tyrannic, etc. What figure ? 12 welcome yueal. Wiuit figure? 1() Give the construction of were. 18. Fancy shall weave. What figure? l!i The meaning of Elyaum revery f 21 My mother/ What figure? Grammatical construction of tiolher f 2Z Grammatical construction of Sayf 24. Dispose of eien, th^n, and begun. 2o. Ciive tlic ;;Tanini;itica! construction of unfeJt. WILLIAM COWPER. 161 Perhaps a tear, if souls can weep in blisa : Ah, that maternal smile I it answers. Yes. I heard the bell tolled on thy burial day, I saw the hearse that bore thee slow away, And, turning from my nursery window, drew W A long, long sigh and wept a last adieu I But was it such ? It was. Where thou art gone, Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown. May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, The parting word shall pass my lips no more I 86 Thy maidens, grieved themselves at my concern, Oft gave me promise of thy quick return : What ardently I wished I long believed, And, disappointed still, was still deceived; By expectation every day beguiled, 40 Dupe of to-morrow, even from a child I Thus many a sad to-morrow came and went. Till, all my stock of infant sorrow spent, I learned, at last, submission to my lot. But, though I less deplored thee, ne'er forgot. 45 Where once we dwelt, our name is heard no more. Children not thine have trod my nursery-floor ; And where the gardener Robin day by day Drew me to school along the public way. Analysis. — 26. Give the grammatical construction of tear. What figure in the line ? 29. Dispose of the word slow. Explain how the use of the word tlow becomes allowable here. 32. Dispose of the word such. What word should be used instead of who'e in prose form ? 34. Grammatical construction of but? 35. ihcdl pass my lips. etc. What figure ? 39. disappointed. Give grammatical construction. 40, 41. Arrange in prose order. Dispose of the word Dupe. 42. sad to-morrow came. What figure ? 43. Graiiunatical construction of spent* 45. Explain the use of tlie apostrophe in n^er. What is the »al^ ject of forgot t 152 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. Delighted with my bauble coach, and wrapped M In scarlet mantle warm, and velvet-capped, 'Tis now become a history little known, That once we called the pastoral house our own. Short-lived possession I but the record fair That memory keeps of all thy kindness there 66 Still outlives many a storm that has effaced A thousand other themes less deeply traced. Thy nightly visits to my chamber made, That thou mightst know me safe and warmly laid ; Thy morning bounties ere I left my home, 60 The biscuit or confectionery plum. The fragrant waters on my cheeks bestowed, By thy own hand, till fresh they shone and glowed, — All this, and, more endearing still than all. Thy constant flow of love, that knew no fall, 65 Ne'er roughened by those cataracts and breaks, That humor interposed too often makes ; All this still legible in memory's page, And still to be so to my latest age. Adds joy to duty, makes me glad to pay 7i Such honors to thee as my numbers may ; Analysis. — 50. Trace the etymology of bavble. Show how the word is allied to babe. 51. scarlet mantle warm. Notice the order of the word*. 52. ' Tis now become, etc. Write in prose form. 52, 53. Analyze these lines. 54-57. Give the meaning of these lines. 55. memory keeps. What figure? I)isj)Ose of ped, seams opening wide, and compass lost, And day by day some current's thwarting force Sets me more distant from a prosperous course, ' 105 But oh I the thought that thou art safe, and he, That thought is joy, arrive what may to me. My boast is not that I deduce my birth From loins enthroned and rulers of the earth ; Note. — 109, 110. These lines re- 1 from distinguished auce» fer to Cowper's descent | try. I Analysis. — 94. airs flay around. What figure? 95. Parse light. 96. sails how swift. What figure? 97. Point out and name the figures in the line. 98. 99. Name the figures. 100. But me, " but as for me." Dispose of scarce. 100, 101. Dispose of hoping and distressed. 102. What part of speech is devious* 103. wide is here used as an attributive adjective after the parti- yple opening. (See Raub's Grammar, p. 101, Remark 7.) 10.3. compass lost. To what calamity in Cowper's life does this refer? 104. 105. distant is here a factitive adjective. (See Raub'fl Gram- mar p. 164, note 4.) What figure in the line? 106. and he. Supply ellipsia. 107. arrive. What term is coininonly u.sed ? Give the mode of mrrive. 109. loins enthrmied. What figure? WILLIAM GOWPER, 155 But higher far my proud pretensions rise — IH The son of parents passed into the skies. And now, farewell 1 Time unrevoked has run His wonted course ; yet what I wished is done. By contemplation's help, not sought in vain, I seem to have lived my childhood o'er again ; 115 To have renewed the joys that once were mine, Without the sin of violating thine ; And, while the wings of fancy still are free, And I can view this mimic show of thee. Time has but half succeeded in his theft — 120 Thyself removed, thy power to soothe me left. Analysis. — 110. Dispose of /ar. 113. Dispose of what. 114. conlemplatioii's help. What figure? 116. Give grammatical construction of mine. 117. Give grammatical construction of thine. 118. What figures in the line? 119. mimic show. To what does this refer? 120. What is the force of butf 121. Give the grammatical construction of renwMwd 13. ROBERT BURNS, 1759-1796. Robert Burns, often called the Shakespeare of Scot- land, was bora in tlie parish of Alloway, near Ayr, Scotland, on the 25th of January, 1759. His father was a poor farmer, who luid built with his own liands the mud hut in which the great poet was born, and was therefore able to give his son but a meagre educatioL The school-days of Burns had ended before he reached the age of twelve, but he claims that even then he was " a critic in substantives, verbs, and partici})les." To this education was added " a fortnight's French " and a sum- mer quarter at land-surveying, and the scnool-career of Burns was closed. His help was needed on the little nursery-farm to which his father had removed, and here, it is said, he toiled like a galley-slave to support his parents and their household, yet improving every opportunity of acquiring knowledge from both men and books. Among the few books he possessed were the works of Addison, Pope, and Allan Ramsay, and these lie read and re-read till by and by he was able to add Slienstone, Sterne, Thomson, and Mackenzie to his list of silent com- panions. Nature, however, became his great school. From the birds and the wild flowers he conned his best lessons as he trudged l)ehind the plow. A little mat of leaves and grass, tossed aside by his j)l()vvshare, exposed a small field-mouse, over which the saddened heart of tlie )><)et bubbled into eong, and a daisy crushed in the apiiiig- 1 ROBERT BURNS. 157 tin.e draws from him another strnin no less beautiful and touching than the other. But the farm could not be made to produce a Uving, and the poet determined to sail to Jamaica, with the hope of becoming steward on some sugar-plantation. fn order to secure the needed funds, lie had six hun- dred co])ies of liis poems printed at Kilmarnock in 178(. These were distributed among a few booksellers, and so ready was the sale that the })oet found Inmself the po^ sessor of twenty guineas as his share of the jirofit. His passage was engaged for the first ship tliat left the Clyde, and every preparation was made for the start, wlien a letter from Dr. Blacklock of Edinburgh, himself a poet, to one of Burns's friends, commending the poems in such terms as the modest plowboy had not dared to hope for, changed the whole current of his life. Giving his mother a portion of his twenty guineas, he started, almost penniless, to Iildinburgh, without even a letter of introduction. But his hook liad preceded him. and he at once became the companion of both lords and literati, who listened with delight to his fresh and bril- liant talk. A new edition of his poems was at once issued, on which he cleared nearly five hundred ])ounds. Burns joined in the conviviality wliich everywhere sur- rounded him, but, alas ! the temptations which beckoned him on became his ruin. He soon fell a victim to in- temperance, his money was spent, and he found himself deserted. His poverty comj)elled him to rent a little farm at Ell island, near Dumfries, and, having married Jean Arm( ur^ to whom he had long been attached, he again became a f;irnier. In 17*J.'i a third edition of his poems was printed, in which first a])pear(Hl his inimitable Tarn O'S/kuiUt. But Burns's life was almost S]ient; sickness, poverty, and debt made him dospomlent, and he at last became the 158 STUDIES ly ENGLISH LITERATURE. fated victim of intemperate habits, to whicl) lie was only too prone, and died at tlie age of thirty-seven, at Dum- fries, on the 21st of July, 1796. Burns is remem])ered chiefly by his songs, but in ad- dition to the poems already mentioned he will alwaye be praised for his Cotter^s Saturday Night— a. beautiful domestic picture, supposed to represent a home-scene at his father's cottage — the Elegy on Captain Matthew Henderson, and 'The Jolly Beggars. Among his master- pieces are The Cotter^s Saturday Night and Tarn 0''Shanter. CRITICISM BY THOMAS B. SHAW. His works are singularly various and splendid ; the greater part of them consists of songs, either completely original or recastings of such comj)ositions of older date: in performing this difficult task of altering and improving existing lyrics, in which a beautiful thought was often buried under a load of mean and vulgar ex- pression. Burns exhibits a most exquisite delicacy and purity of taste, and an admirable ear for harmony. His own songs vary in tone and subject through every chang- ing mood, from the sternest patriotism and the most agonizing pathos to the l)roadest drollery : in all he is equally inimitable. Most of his finest works are writ- ten in his own Lowland dialect, and give a picture, at once familiar and ideal, of the feelings and sentiments of the })easant. It is the rustic heart, but glorified by passion, and elevated by a perpetual communing with Nature. liut he has also exhibited perfect mastery when writing pure English, and many admirable productions might be cited in which he has clothed the loveliest thoughts in the purest language. Consc(iuently, his genius was not obliged to depend ui:)on the adventi- tious charm and piestige of r provincial dialect. There ROBERT BURNS. 1-39 never perhaps existed a mini more truly and intensely poetical than that of Burns. In his verses to a '• Moun- tain Daisy," which he turned up with his plow, in his reflections on destroying, in the same way, the nest of a field-mouse, there is a vein of tenderness which no poet has ever surpassed. In the beautiful little poem " To Mary in Heaven," and in many other short lyrics, he has condensed the whole history of love — its tender fears, its joys, its frenzy, its agonies, and its yet sub- limer resignation — into the space of a dozen lines. No poet ever seems so sure of himself; none goes more directly and more certainl}'- to the point ; none is more muscular in his expression, encumbering the thought with no useless drapery of words, and trusting always for effect to Nature, truth, and intensity of feeling. Con- sequently, no poet more abounds in those short and pic- ture-like phrases which at once present the object almost to our senses, and which no reflection could either imi- tate or improve. THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT. Note. — This poem was written by Burns at the age of twenty-six It was dedicateci to his intimate friend Robert Aiken, a lawyer in tiie town of Ayr, Scotland. It will be noticed that part of the poem 18 written in tlie Ayrshire dialect and part in English. The poet employs the Spenserian stanza. 1. ]My loved, my linnor'd, mtich-respected friend I No mercenary bard his homage i)ays; With honest pride I scorn each selfish end : .My dearest meed, a friend's esteem and praise: Note. — 4. meed, reward. ANALYSIS. — 2. What is tlie meaning of mercrnary bard heie? 4. Wliat verl) is omitted in the line? 160 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. To you I sing, in simple Scottisli lays, ft The lowly train in life's sequester'd scene; The native feelings strong, the guileless ways , What Aiken in a cottage would have been ; A h I though his worth unknown, far happier there, I ween. 2. November chill blaws loud wi' angry sugh ; 10 The shortening winter day is near a close; The miry beasts retreating frae the pleugh ; Tlie blackening trains o' craws to their repose ; The toil-worn Cotter frae his labor goes, This night his weekly moil is at an end, 16 Collects his spades, his mattocks, and his hoes, Uojiing the morn in ease and rest to spend, And, weary, o'er the moor his course does hameward bend. 3. At length his lonely cot appears in view. Beneath the shelter of an aged tree ; 20 Th' expectant wee-things, toddlin', stachcr through To meet their Dad, wi' flichterin' noise an' glee. Notes. — 5. I sing. This refers to the habit of early poets, who sang their verses, usually for pay. 9. ween, deem. 10. wi' angry sugh, with angry sough or moaning. 12. frae, from. 12. pleugh, plow. 13. trains o' craws, trains of crows. 15. moil, labor. 17. the morn, the morrow. 19. cot, cottaf,'e. 21. stacher, st;iij,ffer. 22. flichterin', Uiittering. Analysis. — 6. Meaning of lowly train f Give the grammatical COiistnictioii of train. 7. native feelingn utronr/. Notice the order. 9. Rewrite tlie line in prose. 10. What i)art of speech is loudf 1.3. Snjiply elli[>sis. 14. (live the meaning of Cotter. 16. Whal is the sul)ject of collects f 17. Wl)at does tiie line modify? 18. Give the con.stniction of weary. 21. loddlin . (live the meaning. ROBERT BURNS. 161 His wee bit ingle, bliukiii' bonnily, His clean hearth-stane, bis tbriftie wifie's smile, The lisping infant prattling on bis knee, 26 Does a' bis weary carking cares beguile, An* makes him quite forget bis labor an' bis toil. i Belyve tbe elder bairns come drappin' in, At service out araang tbe farmers roun' : Some ca' tbe pleugb, some berd, some tentie rin 30 A cannie errand to a neebor-town. Tbeir eldest bope, tbeir Jenny, woman grown. In youtbfu' bloom, love sparkling in ber e'e, Comes bame, perbaps, to sbow a braw new gown, Or deposit ber sair-won penny-fee 35 To help ber parents dear if tbey in bardsbip be. 5 Wi' joy unfeign'd brotbers and sisters meet, An' eacb for otber's weelfare kindly speirs : Tbe social bours, swift-wing'd, unnoticed fleet; Eacb tells tbe uncos tbat be sees or bears. 40 Tbe parents, partial, eye tbeir bopeful years; Anticipation forward points tbe view : Tbe motber, wi' her needle an' her shears. Notes. — 23. ingle, fireplace. blinkin', shining at intervals. 26. a', all. carking, consuniing. 28. Belyve, by and by. bairns, children. 80. ca', call or drive. tentie rin, attentively run. 31. cannie, careful or dexterous 33. e'e, eye. 34. braw, handsome. 35. sair-won, sorely or dearly won. penny-fee, wages, ?>8. speirs, inquires. 40. uncos, news. Analysis. — 23-27. Is the sentence correct? Analyze it 29. What does the line modilV ? 35. de^posit. Tlie accent here is thrown to the first syllable to re- lain the metre. This was also the former prdnunciation of the word. 41. ¥&Tse partial, eye their hopefid years. "What figure? 42. Anticipation .... points, etc. "VVliat figure? 11 162 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. Gars auld clacit look ainaist as weel's the new; The father mixes a' wi* admonition due. 4fl 6. Their master's and their mistress's command The younkers a' are warned to obey ; An' mind their hibors wi' an eydent hand ; An' ne'er, though out o' sight, to jauk or play : "An', oh I be sure to fear the Lord ahvay, 50 An' mind your duty duly, morn an' night. Lest in temptation's path ye gang astray, Implore His counsel and assisting might: They never sought in vain that sought the Lord aright.'* 7. But, hark ; a rap comes gently to the door : 66 Jenny, wha kens the meaning o' the same, Tells how a neebor-lad cam' o'er the moor To do some errands, and convoy her hame. The wily mother sees the conscious flame S])arkle in Jenny's e'e and Hush her cheek ; <0 With heart-struck anxious care in(]uires his namej Wh/ile Jenny halilins is afraid to speak : Weel pleased, the mother hears it's nae wild, worthless rake. Notes. — 44. Gars auld claes, makes old clothes. 47. younkers, youngstei-s 48. eydent, diligent. 49. jauk, trifle. 56. wha, who. 58. convoy, accompany. 59. wily, cautious. G2 hafflins, partly. 63. nae, no. Analysis. — 44. as wed's the new. Explain. 47. warniSd. Notice the pronimciation. 50. Why alway instead of aluaynf 6L dvhj. What duty morn and night ? 50 -54. Notice that these lines are a direct quotation. 65. Dispose of the word hark. 57. What is the object of IclU t 59. coTiacious flame. What figure ? 60. Grammatical con3tructir)n of Sparklet ROBERT BURNS. 163 8. Wi' kindly welcome, Jenny brings him ben ; A strappan youth, he taks the mother's eye : 56 Blythe Jenny sees the visit's no ill ta'en; The father ci^acks of horses, pleiighs, and kye. The youngster's artless heart o'erflows wi' joy, But, blate and laithfu', scarce can weel behave . The mother, wi' a woman's wiles, can spy '0 What makes the youth sae bashfu' an' sae grave; Weel pleased to think her bairn's respected like the lave. 9. Oh happy love, where love like this is found ! Oh heartfelt raptures I bliss beyond compare I I've paced much this weary mortal round, 75 And sage experience bids me this declare, — " If Heaven a draught of heavenly pleasure spare, One cordial in this melancholy vale, 'Tis when a youthful, loving, modest pair. In other's arms breathe out the tender tale 80 Beneath the milk-white thorn that scents the evening gale." Notes. — 64. ben ; that is, in or into the room. 65. strappan, tall and hand- some, taks, takes. G7. cracks, talks. kye, kine or cows. 69. blate, bashful. laithfu', reluctant. 72. the lave, tlie others. Analysis. — 65. taks the mother's eye. Wliat figure ? Why is the word written eye in this line and e'e in line 60 ? 66. Write the line in prose. 68. Who is meant by youngster in this line ? 69. Grammatical construction of blate, lailh/a', and behave t Trace the etymology of blate. 70. Name tlie object of can spy. 72. What does the line modify ? 73. What figure in tlie line? 74. compare. This is a figure of Enallage. For what ia the wore a Bubdtitute ? 76. experience bids, etc. What figure? What is the object of declare f 78. Name the figures in this line. 80. Supply the ellii^sis in the line. 164 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURK 10. Is there, in human form, that bears a heart, — A wretch 1 a villain I lost to love and truth 1 That can, with studied, sly, ensnaring art, Betray sweet Jenny's unsuspecting youth ? Curse on his perjured arts! dissembling smooth 1 Are honor, virtue, conscience, all exiled ? Is there no pity, no relenting ruth, Points to the parents fondling o'er their child? Then paints the ruin'd maid, and their distraction wild f 85 90 11. But now the supper crowns their simple board, The halesome parritch, chief o' Scotia's food : The soupe their only hawkie does afford. That 'yont the hallan snugly chows her cood : The dame brings forth in complimental mood, To grace the lad, her weel-hain'd kebbuck fell, An' aft he's prest, an' aft he ca's it guid : The frugal wifie, garrulous, will tell, IIow 'twas a towmond auld, sin' lint was i' the bell. 95 12. The cheerfu' supper done, wi' serious face, They round the ingle form a circle wide; 100 Notes. — 88. ruth, mercy or pity. 92. parritch, porridge. 93. soupe, milk. hawkie, a pet name for a cow. 94 'yont, beyond. hallan, a partition-wall in a cottage. 96. weel-hain'd, carefully pre- served, kebbuck, cheese, fell, tastefid. 99. towmond, twelvemonth, auld, old. sin' lint was i' the bell, ain^ flax wa^ in Uie blowoiu. Analysis. — 87. With what is all in apposition? 89, 90. "What is the subject of Points and paints f 92 Sr^jl id's food. What figure? 95. Meiming of complimenlulf 98. wilt tell. Tlie future tense ia used here for the present bj poetic license. 101. cheerfu,' au]>per. Wliat figure? ROBERT BURNS. 165 The fl'ire turns o'er, wi' patriarclial grace, The big ha' Bible, ance his father's pride : Hia bonnet reverently is laid aside, His lyart haffets wearing thin an' bare ; lOS Those strains that once did sweet in Zion glide, lie wales a portion with judicious care ; And " Let us worship God 1" he says, with solemn air 13. They chant their artless notes in simple guise ; They tune their hearts, by far the noblest aim : 110 Perhaps Dundee's wild, warbling measures rise; Or plaintive Martyrs, worthy of the name ; Or noble Elgin beats the heavenward flame, — The sweetest far of Scotia's holy lays : Compared with these, Italian trills are tame; 115 The tickled ear no heartfelt raptures raise ; Nae unison hae they with our Creator's praise. 14. The priest-like father reads the sacred page, — How Abram was the friend of God on high ; Or Moses bade eternal warfare wage 120 With Amalek's ungracious progeny ; Notes.— 103. ha' Bible, the Bi- ble kept in tlie hall. 105. lyart, grayish. haffets, temples, or sides of the head. 106. Zion, a psalm-tune. 107. wales, chooses. 111-113. Dundee, Martyrs, El- gin ; these also are Scot- tish psalm-tuues. Analysis. — 108. Name the object of says. 109. What is tlie meaning of guise f 110. by far the noblest aim. Give grammatical constriictioo. 113. What figure in the line? 116. tickled ear. What figure? raise. Is this correct ? 117. What is the antecedent of theyf 118. Supply the ellipsis in the line. 118-124. Name the objects of reads. 120. Gnmnnatical construction of wagef 120, 121. Give the meaning of these lines. 166 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. Or how the royal bard did groaning lie Beneath the stroke of Heaven's avenging ire; Or Job's pathetic plaint and wailing cry; Or rapt Isaiah's wild, seraphic fire; 129 Or other holy seers that tune the sacred lyre. 16 Perhaps the Christian volume is the theme, — How guiltless blood for guilty man was shed ; How ITe who bore in heaven the second )iame Had not on earth whereon to lay his head ; 130 How his first followers and servants sped The precepts sage they wrote to many a land; How he, who, lone in Patnios banished, Saw in the sun a mighty angel stand, And heard great Babylon's doom pronounced by Heaven's 135 command. 16. Then, kneeling down, to Heaven's Eternal King The saint, the fatlier, and the husband prays: Hope "springs exulting on triumphant wing" That thus they all sliall meet in future days, There ever bask in uncreated rays, 140 No more to sigh, or shed the bitter tear, Together hymning their Creator's praise Analysis. — 122. Who was the royal bard * 124. pathetic plaint. Notice the alliteration. 'Meaning of plaitU f 127. Meaninf^ of theme f 129. To what does He refer? 130. Supply ellipsis. I)i*^»rte of whereon. 133-135. To whom do these lines refer? 135. Heaven' X command. What figure? 137. Justify tlie use of prays instead of pray. 138 J Tope springs, etc. What figure? 138, 139. Notice that Hope ia used here both figuratively and literaLy. 139 That ihm, etc. What kind of more.s.si(>n figurative or literal? 3.3. Give the granmiatical coiistrucliou of Like and cJiild. What b the antecedent of Tli'Ut 34. dropt . . . . ihe aKirxets, etc Wliat figure ? MRS. BROWNING. 227 That turns his fevered eyes around — " My mother I where's my 33 mother ?" ks if such tender words and deeds could come from any other I — The fever gone, with leaps of heart he sees her bending o'er him, Her face all pale from watchful love, the unweary love she bore him I — Thus woke the poet from the dream his life's long fever gave him, Beneath those deep pathetic eyes, which closed in death to save 40 him. Thus ? Oh, not thtis ! no type of earth could image that awaking, Wherein he scarcely heard the chant of seraphs round him breaking, Or felt the new immortal throb of soul from body parted. But felt those eyes alone, and knew — ''''My Saviour 1 not deserted I" Deserted I Who hath dreamt that when the cross in darkneRs ^ rested Upon the Victim's hidden face, no love was manifested ? What frantic hands outstretched have e'er the atoning drops averted ? What tears have washed them from the soul, that one should be deserted ? Deserted I God could separate from His own essence rather: And Adam's sins have swept between the righteous Sou and 50 Fathei. Analysis.— 38. oil pale. Parse. Parse also uneasy love. 39. What is the meaning here of his life's long /evert (See sketch cf Cowper.) 40. What is the meaning of this line? 45. Give grammatical construction of Deserted. What is the meaning of the cross in darkness rested, eta ? What la the figure ? 48. Wliy is one emphasized, and to whom does it refer? 50. Give the meaning of this line. 228 STUDIES IN ENOLISH LITERATURE. Yea, once, Immanuel's orphaned cry his universe hath shaken — It went up single, echoless, "My God, I am forsaken 1" It went up from the Holy's lips amid his lost creation. That of the lost no son should use those words of desolation I That earth's worst frenzies, marring hope, should mar not hope's 58 fruition, And I, on Cowper's grave, should see his rapture in a vision. Analysis. — 51, 62. To what do these lines refer? 62. What is the antecedent of Itf 54. What figure in the line? 55. What is the meaning oi fruition f 50. on Cow])ei-'s grave. What does this phrase modify? THE SLEEP. Note. — The following are stanzas 5 and 6 from Mrs. Browninu'i |n.iem, Tlie Steep. O earth, so full of dreary noises ! O men, with wailing in your voices I O delvM gold, the wallers heap I O strife, curse, that o'er it fall I God strikes a silence through you all, And " giveth His beloved sleep." His dews drop mutely on the hill, His cloud above it saileth still. Though on its slope men sow and tenfi. More softly than the dew is shed, Or cloud is floated overhead, " He giveth His beloved sleep." 21. JEAN INGELOW, 1830 9-1897. Miss Ingelow, since the death of Mrs. Browning, ie certainly England's greatest female poet. By some the date of her birth is fixed as 1825, and by others as 1830, but since little is known of her private life, these dates cannot be considered as authentic. Her first success as a writer was won by a volume of poems published in England in 1863, and also imme- diately re])ublished in America. It was received with great favor on both sides of the Atlantic, and at once won distinction for the author. Since then she has issued otlier volumes of poems, but none have so taken hold on the popular heart as her first effort. In prose Miss Ingelow has done but little, her chief work being a novel. Off the Skelligs, published in 1872. She is author also of an admirable collection of stories for children entitled Studies for Stories, among which "Mopsa and the Fairy " is one of the most charming. Miss Ingelow is chiefly a lyric poet, and her poems are characterized by a simplicity and gentleness found in few compositions. Among her best poems are " Songs of Seven," " Songs of the Night- Watches," " Songs Tith Preludes," " High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire," and "Songs on the Voices of Birds." She is still living (1882) in England, and her works have had, and still have, an extensive sale in both Eng- land and America. Tliey have won for their writer a degree of popularity seldom conceded to a living author- 229 230 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. CRITICISM. Nothing appeared from her pen until the year 1863, when her little volume, issued under the modest title Poems, placed her at once among the foremost ^\Titer8 of England. Some of Miss Ingelow's poems, ])articu- larly " High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire," are characterized by considerable dramatic power, and all of them are marked b}'' a sim])licity and naturalness of language that have helped them to reach the pop- ular heart and make them favorites with lovers of poetry. As a lyric poet Miss Ingelow has written some songs of rare merit. Her " Songs of the Night- Watches " and " Songs of Seven " — the latter representing the seven epochs in the life of woman — have won for her high dis- tinction. THE MIDDLE WATCH. Note. — The following extract is taken from Miss Ingelow's poem entitled " The Songs of tlie Night-Watches." I. I WOKE in the night, and the darkness was heavy and deep ; I had known it was dark in my sleep, And I rose and looked out. And the fathomless vault was all sjiarkling, set thick round about With the ancient inhabiters silent, and wheeling too far f For man's heart, like a voyaging frigate, to sail, where re- mote In the sheen of their glory they float, ANALYSIS. — 4. fathomless vault. What figure? What doea th« Word (ill modify ? Parse round about. 5. Wliat is the difference lietweeii inhnhiters and inhabilantat 6. Point out and name the figure in this line. 7. What is meant by sheen t JEAN INOELOW. 231 Or man's soul, like a bird, to fly near, of their beams to par- take, And dazed in tlieir wake Drink day tliat is born of a star. H I murmured, " Remoteness and greatness, how deep you are set 1 How afar in the rim of the whole I You know nothing of me, nor of man, nor of earth, oh, nor yet Cf our light-bearer, — drawing the marvelous moons as they roll. Of our regent, the sun. 15 I look on you trembling, and think, in the dark with my soul, 'How small is our place 'mid the kingdoms and nations of God I These are greater than we, every one." And there falls a great fear, and a dread cometh over that cries, my hope ! Is there any mistake ? 20 Did He speak ? Did I hear ? Did I listen aright if He spake? Did I answer Him duly ? for surely 1 now am awake. If never I woke until now." And a light, baffling wind, that leads nowhither, plays on my brow. As a sleep, I must think on my day, of my path as unti od, 25 Or trodden in dreams, in a dreamland whose coasts are a doubt ; Whose countries recede from my thoughts, as they grope round about. And vanish, and tell me not how. Analysts. — 8. Parse the words like and bird. 8-10. Name the fif,'ures in tliese lines. 11. What figure in the line? What is the objed of murmured f Give the construction of Remoteness and greatnettu 16 What does trembliny modify? Kame tlie object of think. 17 'mi'J. What figure of orthography? 19 Name ihe object of criea. 24 nmchitli^r. Why nouhither, rather than nowhere 27 Nanie the antecedent of thty. 232 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. Be kind to our darkness, O Fashioner dwelling in light, And feeding the lamps of the sky ; 30 Look down upon this one, and let it be sweet in Thy sight, I pray Thee, to-night. Oh watch whom Thou madest to dwell on its soil, Thou Meet High I For this is a world full of sorrow (there may be but one); Keep watch o'er its dust, else Thy children for aye are un- 36 done, For this is a world where we die. II. • With that, a still voice in my spirit that moved and that yearned (There fell a great calm while it apake), I heard it erewhile, but the noises of life are so loud That sometimes it dies in the cry of the street and the 40 crowd ; To the simj)le it cometh, — the child, or asleep or awake ; And they know not from whence ; of its nature the wise never learned By his wisdom ; its secret the worker ne'er earned By his toil ; and the rich among men never bought with his gold; Nor the timea of its visiting monarchs controlled, 45 Nor the jester put down with his jeers (For it moves where it will), nor its season the aged discern By thought, in the ripeness of years. elder than reason, and stronger than will I A voice, when the dark world is still : 60 Analysis. — 29. Fashioner. To whom ia alhision made here? 30. feeding the lampn. What figure? 35. o^er. Explain the use of the a])08trophe here. Dispose of the word else. 41. or asleep. What is the tisiial form? 42. What is the antecetlent of iheyf 49. O elder. Why elder rather than older after Of W What figurfi :inii)s< of Immpn-y paneqyriKls. Is the term used here in a coiiiplinnMitary or n dispiirntjing sense? 98. What is tlie iiieaninjj; oi putru-inmf Wlial iH the opposit* lerm? 102. Uiivkn hia chnrarfer nrer. Siilistitnte a better expression. 104. Notice tlie nse of eren na an enipliatic mlverb. 105. 106. Aj8 6ram tt'os c/mr. What figure? Explain. 106. it ... . only laid aside. Is (lie jKwition of only correct? WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY. 259 his reason left him : as soon as his hands were out of the strait-waistcoat they took up the pen and the plan which had engaged him up to the moment of his malady. I believe it is by persons believing themselves in the 1 If right that nine-tenths of the tyranny of this world has been perj^etrated. Arguing on that convenient premise, the dey of Algiers would cut off twenty heads of a morn- ing ; Father Dominic would burn a score of Jews in the presence of the Most Catholic king, and the archbishops 115 of Toledo and Salamanca sing Amen. Protestants were roasted, Jesuits hung and quartered at Smithfield, and witches burned at Salem ; and all by worthy people, who believed they had the best authority for their ac- tions. And so with respect to old George, even Ameri- 120 cans, whom he hated and who conquered him, may give him credit for having quite honest reasons for oppress- ing them. Of little comfort were the king's sons to the king. But the pretty Amelia was his darling; and the little maiden, 125 prattling and smiling in the fond arms of that old father, is a sweet image to look on. From November, 1810, George III. ceased to reign. All the world knows the story of his malady : all his- tory presents no sadder figure than that of the old man, 130 Analysis. — 108. atrait-waiMcmiL To what does this refer? 110, 111. Name the modifier of it. 1 12. Arguing, etc. What does this phrase modify? 113, 114. of a morning. Modernize. 115. Who is meant by the Most Catholic king* 116. Parse sing. Locate Toledo and Salamanca. 117. 118. Locate Smithfield and Salem. 120, 121. even A^nericnns. Explain tJie use of even. 127. to look on. The passive infinitive is here used with the active form. 130-133. that .... courts. Name the predicate. Name the modi- 9er9 of the subject. 260 STUDIES IN EyOLISH LITERATURE. blind ar.d deprived of reason, wandering through the rooms of his palace, addressing imaginary parliaments, reviewing fimcied troops, holding ghostly courts. I have Been his picture as it was taken at this time hanging in the apartment of his daughter, the Landgravine of 135 Ilesse-Homburg, — amidst books and Windsor furniture, and a hundred fond reminiscences of her English home. The poor old father is represented in a purple gown, his snowy beard falling over his breast — the star of his famous order still idly shining on it. lie was not only 140 sightless — he became utterly deaf. All light, all reason, all sound of human voices, all the pleasures of this world of God, were taken from him. Some slight lucid moments he had ; in one of which, the queen, desiring to see him, entered the room, and found him singing a 145 hymn and accompanying himself on the harpsichord. When he had finished he knelt down and prayed ah)ud for her, and then for his family, and then for the nation, concluding with a prayer for himself, that it might please God to avert his heavy calamity from him, but if not to 150 give hira resignation to submit. He then burst into tears, and his reason again fled. What preacher need moralize on this story ? what words save the simplest are requisite to tell it? It is too terrible for tears. The thought of such a misery 156 smites me down in submission before the Ruler of tings and men, the Monarch Sujjreme over empires and republics, the inscrutable Dispenser of life, death, Analypis. — 134. hnnging. Give the grammatical con.struction. Nniiie the modiliere of hanging. 143, 140. I'oint out the figure. 143,144. bbcid nwmentn. What figure? 150. aveii friim. Criticise. 157. (tive grammatic-al conBtruction of Monarch Supreme. 158. Give grammatical coiutructlon of Dispenser. WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY. 261 happiness, victory. " brothers," I said to those who heard me first in America — " brothers ! speaking the 160 same dear mother-tongue, — comrades ! enemies no more, let us take a mournful hand together as we stand by this royal corpse, and call a truce to battle 1 Low he lies to whom the proudest used to kneel once, and who was cast lower than the poorest ; dead, whom millions 165 prayed for in vain. Driven off his throne ; buffeted by rude hands ; with his children in revolt ; the darling of his old age killed before him untimely, our Lear hangs over her breathless lips and cries, ' Cordelia, Cordelia, stay a little 1' 170 'Vex not his ghost — oh, let him pass — he hates him That woulil upon the rack of this tough world Stretch him out longer I' Hush, Strife and Quarrel, over the solemn grave! Sound, Trumpets, a mournful march. Fall, Dark Cur- 178 tain, upon his pageant, his pride, his grief, his awful tragedy I" Analysis. — 159-161. Name the object of said. 160. speaking, etc. What does the phrase modify? 161, 162. Give grammatical construction of enemies, no, and more 163. Dispose of the word Low. Name tlie modifiers of he. 164. used to kneel. Parse. 165. dead, whom millions, etc. Supply the ellipsis. 174. Point ont the figure in this line. 175 mnurnfid march. What figure ? Why is Curtain written with a capital letter T 25. GEORGE ELIOT, 1820 (?)-1881. " (jkorge Eliot " is the assumed name under whici Mrs. Marian C. Lewes (formerly Evans) wrote some of the finest English novels of the Victorian Age. Miss Evans was born about the year 1820 in the north- ern part of England, but of her early life little has ever been made known to the public. In girlhood she be- came a resident of London, where she pursued a rigid and systematic course of study, which manifests itself everywhere in her writings in a. breadth and strength of thought characteristic more generally of the mascu- line mind, and tliat make her novels more than the relation of incident or the mere delineation of character. George Eliot first attracted attention as a writer by Rome sketches, Scenes of Clerical Life, which appeared in Blackwood's Magazine in 1857. Her next elFort was Adam Bede, one of her most j)opular novels, which appeared in 1859, and which ran through five editions in as many months. In 1859 also slie published The Mill on the Floss, and in 1861 Silas Marner. Her fourth novel, J{nmola, which is one of her very best, was published in 1863. It is an historical novel of Italian life, and is probably her most artistic work, though it is less poj)ular than most of her o*her writings. In 1866 Felix Holt, the Radical, her fifth novel, was issued, and this was followed in 1871 ])y Middleiruirch, a study of English provincial life, and in 1876 by Daniel Derondd, a story of modern Englisli life. All of these 262 QEOROE ELIOT. 263 hnve been popular, but Middlemarch has met with a success and popularity almost unprecedented. In addition to her novels, on which George Eliot's success and fame are founded, she has written also sev- eral volumes of poems. The most prominent of these are a drama, The Spanish Gyp-iy, and Agatha, a Poem, the first of which appeared in 1868, and the second in 1869. A few years before her death, which occurred early in 1881, she became the wife of the celebrated philosophi- cal writer, George Henry Lewes, who haA-ing died she married Mr. J. W, Cross, a London banker, but she died within a year after this marriage. CRITICIS^r BY R. n. HUTTON. The great authoress who calls herself " George Eliot " is chiefly known, and no doubt deserves to be chiefly known, as a novelist, but she is certainly much more than a novelist in the sense in which that word applies even to writers of great genius — to Miss Austen or Mr. Trollo])e ; nay, much more than a novelist in the sense in which that word applies to Miss Bronte, or even to Thackeray ; though it is of course true, in relation to all these writers, that, besides being much more, she is also and necessarily not so much. What is remarkable in George EHot is the striking combination in her of very deep speculative power with a very great and real- istic ".raagination. It is rare to find an intellect so skill- ed ir. analysis of the deepest psychological problems, so completely at home in the conception and delineation of real characters. George Eliot discusses the practical influences acting on men and women, I do not say with the ease of Fielding — for there is a touch of carefulness, often of over-carefulness, in all she does — but with much of his breadth and spaciousness — the breadth and spa- 264 STUDIES IN ENQLISH LITERATURE. ciousness, one must remember, of a man who had seen London life in the capacity of a Loudon police magis- trate. Nay, her imagination has, I do not say of course the fertility, but something of the range and the delight in rich liistoric coloring, of Sir Walter Scott's ; while it combines with it something too of the pleasure in order- ed learning, and the laborious marshaling of the pic- turesque results of learning, whicli gives the flavor of scholastic pride to the great genius of Milton. SAINT THERESA. Note. — The following extract ia taken from George Eliot's most popular novel, Middkmarch. Who that cares much to know the history of man, and how the mysterious mixture behaves under the varying experiments of time, has not dwelt, at least briefly, on the life of Saint Theresa, has not smiled with some gentleness at the thought of the little girl walking 5 forth one morning, hand-in-hand with her still smaller brotlier, to go and seek martyrdom in the country of the Moors ? Out they toddled from rugged Avila, wide- eyed and helpless-looking as two fawns, but with hu- man hearts, already beating to a national idea, until JO domestic reality met them in the shape of uncles and turned them back from their great resolve. That child- Analysis. — 1-8. What b the modifier of Whol Point out the predicate of the sentence. Name the ohjects of to know. 1 Is nuin used in an abstract or a concrete sense? 3 4. o^ leaal briefly. Dispose of at least and briefly. 6, 6. tfie Utile girl walking forth, etc la the expression correct? kand-in-hand. Parse. slM smalkr. What does still modify 7 7, to (JO and ,seeA. Is the expression correct? 8, 9. Out they toddled from. What is the p'-eposition ? What 6gure? What kind of adjectives are wdd-eyed aui helplesa-looking f 8-12, What are the modilitra of llieyf GEORGE ELIOT. 265 pilgrimage was a fit beginning. Tl^ieresa's passionate, ideal nature demanded an epic life : what were many- volumed romances of chivalry and the social conquests 15 oi a brilliant girl to her ? Her flame quickly burned up that light fuel, and, fed from witliin, soared after some illimitable satisfaction, some object which would never justify weariness, which would reconcile self-de- spair with the rapturous consciousness of life beyond 20 self. She found her epos in tlie reform of a religious order. That Spanish woman who lived three hundred years ago was certainly not the last of her kind. Many Theresas have been born who found for themselves no 25 epic life wherein there was a constant unfolding of far- resonant action ; perhaps only a life of mistakes, the off- spring of a certain spiritual grandeur ill matched with the meanness of opportunity, perhaps a tragic failure which found no sacred poet and sank unwept into ob- ^ livion. With dim lights and tangled circumstance they tried to shape their thought and deed in noble agree- ment; but, after all, to common eyes their struggles seemed mere inconsistency and formlessness; for these later-born Tlieresas were helped by no coherent socia? "W faith and order which could perform the function of Analysis. — 14. epic life. AVhat is meant ? 16. What is the )ir()j)er position of the j>hra.se to her f 17. Parse fed and within. 1&-22. Her flame .... order. Point out figures. 21. epna. An epic poem or its subject. 23, 24. Dispose of lived and ago. Substitute a word for kind, 26 Give an equivalent for wherein. 27. 28, Parse offspring, 3C Dispose of unwept. 33 after all. Give full clause of which this is an abridgment. 34. Give grammatical constraction of inconsistency. 266 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. knowledge for the ardently willing soul. Their ardor alternated between a vague ideal and the commoD yearning of womanhood ; so that the one was disap- proved as extravagance, and the other condemned as a 40 lapse. Some have felt that these blundering lives are due to llie inconvenient indefiniteness with which the Supreme Power has fashioned the natures of women ; if there were one level of feminine incompetence as strict as the 45 ability to count three and no more, the social lot of wo- men might be treated with scientific certitude. Mean- while, the indefiniteness remains, and the limits of variation are really much wider than any one would imagine frorri the sameness of a woman's coiffure and 50 the favorite love-stories in prose and verse. Here and there a cygnet is reared uneasily among the ducklings in the brown pond, and never finds the li\ang stream in fellowship with his own oary-footed kind. Here and there is born a Saint Theresa, foundress of nothing, 65 whose lo\'ing heart-beats and sobs after an unattained goodness tremljle off, and are dispersed among hin- drances, instead of centring in some long recognizable deed. Analysis. — 40. Parse as. 47, 48. Give a Bubstinile for certitude. Parse MeantohiU. 63. the living Htr earn. AVhai fifjure? 64. Wha is the meaning of oary-fooUd f 26. THOMAS CARLYLE, 1795-1881. Thomas Carlyle, a writer whose work was of such a Vnriety of character that he might be styled historian, translator, biographer, and essayist in one, was born in the southern part of Scotland, in the village of Eccle- fechan, Annandale, on the 4th of Decem])er, 1795. His father was a stone-mason and farmer, and his mother was also of the humbler rank, but both were persons of exceptional character and sterling piety. Thomas was the oldest of nine children, all of whom gratefully re- vered both father and mother. Carlyle's early education was acquired in the gram- mar-school at Annan, fro+n which he was sent to the University at Edinburgh when fourteen years of age. Here he took special delight in the study of mathe- matics and natural science. In May, 1814, he finished his college career, and the post of mathematical teacher in the academy at Annan being vacant, Carlyle entered the competitive examination and was successful in ob- taining the j)lace. Two years later he was called to a similar position in the academy at Kirkcaldy, where the friendship between him and Edward Irving, the head- master, which was begun at Annan when sclioolboys and continued at the University, was renewed, to be kept glowing for a lifetime. Here they "talked and wrought and thought" together. For two years they pursued their task and enforced their discipline, so vig- orously, it is said, as to awaken the indignation of the neighborhood, and then quitted the place for Edin 267 268 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. burgh. Carlyle now abandoned teaching, and eoon after also gave up his original intention of entering the ministry. On his return to Edinburgh he subjected himself to a rigid course of reading in the University library, and soon began preparing a scries of short bio- graphical articles for Brewster's Edinburyh C'ydopxdia. ITe also contributed to the Edinburgh Review about this time, and in 1822 undertook the translation of Legen- dre's Geometry^ prelixing an original and thoughtful essay on " Proportion." His next literary work was the Life of Schiller, which was of such excellence that it was immediately trans- lated into German, with a })reface by the German poet Goethe. Carlyle also about this time (1824) issued anonymously a translation of Goethe's Wilhelm Meviler'a Aj^prenticeship, which was highly praised by the critics of the day. Two years later (in 1826) he was married to an es- timable lady, Miss Jane Welsh, the daughter of Dr. Welsh of Haddington, who, it has been said, was ad- mirably fitted to be the wife of a man of genius. Car- lyle says of her on her tombstone, " For forty years she was the true and loving helpmate of her husband, and by act and word unweariedly forwarded him as. none else could in all of worthy tliat he did or attempted." The first two years of liis married life wore spent in Edinburgh, where he finished a series of German trans- lations, which he issued under tlie title Gcrmnn Romance in 1827. They then removed to a little farm near Dum- fries, owned by Mrs. Carlyle, and known as Craigenput- toch, where they resided for six years, and where some of Carlyle's best work was done. It was while living here that he wrote many of his best essays, which were published in the leading magazines of the day. Mr Carlyle's first great book was Sartor Rcsarlm, now recog- THOMAS CARLYLB. 269 nized as a classic. After having been rejected by a num- ber of publishers, it was at length issued in 1834. His History of the French Revolution followed in 1837, and he was now on the high road to fame. The best of his other works, which followed in succession, are Chartism, Past and Present, Hero- Worship (originally delivered as lectures) 3Iiscellaneons Essays, CromweWs Letters and Speeches, Latter-Day Pamphlets, Life of John Sterling, and, the crowning eifort of his literary work, The Life of Frederick the Great, completed in 1865. Shortly after the completion of this work he was made lord rector of the University of Edinburgh, and he delivered his installation address on April 2, 1866. But his great success was speedily followed by a great calamity in the death of his wife, on the 21st of the same month. Her husband, surviving her fifteen years, died on the morning of February 5, 1881. CRITICISM BY LOWELL. Carlyle's historical compositions are wonderful prose- poems, full of picture, incident, humor, and character, where we grow familiar with his conception of certain leading personages, and even of subordinate ones if they are necessary to the scene, so that they come out living upon the stage from the dreary limbo of names ; but this is no more history than the historical plays of Shakespeare. There is nothing in imaginative litera- ture superior in its own way to the episode of Voltaire in the Life of Frederick the Great. It is delicious :n humor, masterly in minute characterization. . . . With the gift of song, Carlyle would have been the greatest of epic poets since Homer. Without it to modulate and harmonize and bring parts into their proper relation, he is the most amorphous of humor- 270 STUDIES IN ENQLISH LITERATURE. ists, tlie most shining avatar of whim, the world has ■ever seen But, with all deductions, he remains the jirofoundest critic and the most dramatic imaginar tion of modern times ROBERT BURNS Note. — The foUowiug extract is taken from Carlyle's Essay on Bums. Properly speaking, there is but one era in the life of Burns, and that the earliest. We have not youth and manhood, but only youth ; for to the end we discern no decisive change in the complexion of his character : in his thirty-seventh year he is still, as it were, in youth. 5 AVith all that resoluteness of judgment, that penetrating insight, and singular maturity of intellectual power ex- hibited in his writings, he never attains to any clearness regarding himself: to the last he never ascertains his peculiar aim, even with such distinctness as is common 10 among ordinary men, and therefore never can pursue it with that singleness of will which ensures success and some contentment to such men. To tlie last he wavers between two purposes : glorying in his talent, like a true poet, he yet cannot consent to make this his chief and 15 sole glory, and to follow it as the one thing needful, through poverty or riches, through good or evil report. AyALVSis. — 1. Give the grammatical conBtniction of epeahing. I'arse there aud bat, 3. Parse oiily. 5. as U were. Dispose of these won la. 6, 7. vnth .... pov>er. What kind of adjunct ? 10. Give the gramniatiral construction of evim. 11. never can pursue. Slmidd there not be a Hiihject hiij pUe«l7 14, lo. like a *red on him, etc. What figure? 36 Dispose of to and fro. 38. tempestuous force. What figure? 39. Parse nay. 272 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE. sphere for which by nature and circumstances he lias been fitted and appointed. We do not say these things in dispraise of Burns 45 nay, perhaps, they but interest us the more in his favor. Tliis blessing is not given soonest to the best, but rather it is often the greatest minds that are latest in obtaining it ; for where most is to be developed, most time may be re(iuired to develop it. A complex condition had 60 been assigned him from without — as complex a condi- tion from within : " no pre-established harmony " exist- ed between the clay soil of Mossgiel and the empyrean soul of Robert Burns : it was not wonderful, therefore, that the adjustment between them should have been 55 long postponed, and his arm long cumbered and his sight confused in so vast and discordant an economy as he had been appointed steward over. Byron was, at his death, but a year younger than Burns, and through life, as it miglit have appeared, far more simply situated, yet 60 in him, too, we can trace no such adjustment, no such moral manhood, but at best, and only a little before his end, the beginning of what seemed such. By mucli the most striking incident in Burns's life is his journey to Edinburgh, but perhaps a still more im- 65 portant one is his residence at Irvine, so early as in his Analysis. — 47-49. TTiia hkmng obtaining it. Criticise the clause. 49. Give the grammatical conatniction of most and moat. 51. 52. Supply llie ellipsis. 53. Mossgiel, a village where Burns in his youth lai»ored on the (arm. 53, 54. Point out the figure in these lines. 58. Give the grammatical construction of over. 60. far more nimply situated. Parse these words. 61. Parse too. 64-67. Criticise. THOMAS CABLYLB. 27S twenty-third year. Hitherto his life had been poor and toilworn, but otherwise not ungenial, and, with all its distresses, by no means unha})py. In his parentage, de- ducting outward circumstances, he had every reason to 70 reckon himself fortunate. His father was a man of thouglitliil, intense, earnest character, as the best of our peasants are — valuing knowledge, possessing some, and, what is far better and rarer, open-minded for more — a man with a keen insight and devout heart : reverent 75 toward God, friendly therefore at once, and fearless, toward all that God has made : in one word, though but a hard-handed peasant, a com})lete and fully un- folded man. Such a father is seldom found in any rank in society, and was worth descending far in society to 80 8eek. Unfortunately, he was very poor: had he been even a little richer, almost ever so little, the whole might have issued far otherAvise. Mighty events turn on a Btraw : the crossing of a brook decides the conquest of the world. Had this William Burns's small seven acres 86 Analysis. — 67-69. Parse jyoor, toilworn, uncjenial, and unhappy. 69-71. Is this a periodic or a loose sentence? Rewrite it. 72. Give the grammatical construction of as and best. 73. Parse valuimj and possessing. 75. 76. Parse reverent, friendly, and therefore. 76. Name the modifiera of fearless. 77. in one word. Parse. 78. Give tlie grammatical construction of btU. 77, 78. Transpose and supply the ellipsis. 80. Parse worth anil far. 8C, 81. Give the grammatical construction of to seek. 81 had he been. Give the mode of the verb. 82. Give the grammatical construction of cien. Dispose of (dniost ei>er so little. 82, 83. the whole .... otherwise. What is the meaning? Parse /or •nd otherwise. 83-85. Point out the figures in these lines. 85 Hwi this, etc. Parse the verb. 18 274 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LTTERArURE. of nursery-ground anywise prospered, ihe boy Robert had been sent to school — had struggled forward, as so many weaker men do, to some university — come forth not as a rustic wonder, but as a regular, well-trained intellectual workman, and changed the whole course 90 of British literature ; for it lay in him to have done this 1 But the nursery did not prosper : poverty sank his wliole family below the help of even our cheap school 83'stem. Burns remained a hard-worked plow- boy, and British literature took its own course. Never- 95 theless, even in this rugged scene, there is much to nour- ish him. If he drudges, it is with his brother, and for his father and mother, whom he loves and would fain shield from want. . Wisdom is not banished from their poor hearth, nor the balm of natural feeling: the solemn 100 words. Let us worship God, are heard there from a "priest- like father:" if threatenings of unjust men throw mother and children into tears, these are tears not of grief only, but of holiest affection: every heart in that humble group feels itself the closer knit to every other: in their 105 hard warfare they are there together, a "little band of brethren." Neither are such tears, and the tleep beauty that dwells in them, their only portion. Light visits the Analysis. — 87-91. Ciive the imxle of each of the verbs. 89. Dispose of the wonl vonder. 91, 92. for it lay in him to have done thin. Criticise. 92, 93. poverty sank his whole Javiily, Criticise. 9;j. Parrie even. M. I'ai-He plowboy. 101, Lei ux worship Ood. Hive the granitnatical construction. 102, 103. Point ont the figure. 103, 104. these are tears .... affedionx. Analyze the Rentence. 105. feel* U.i8e lines? 14'J. Wc hope it is not so. Analyze. 142,143. at all events. Give the p:ram mat ic-al construction. 145. We become men. (iive the case of men. 148. hem us in. Dispose of these words. 149. What words are exi)laiLitory of it t Name the modifiers of to kope. "What are the modifiers of contentment f 161-153. ''for suffering .... doing." Analyze. 153. Name tlic suhjcci and the modifiers of begins. THOMAS CARLYLE. 277 we Lave sui-iendered to necessity, as the irost part only 15& do, but begins joyfully and hopefully only when we have reconciled ourselves to necessity; and thus, in reality, triumphed over it, and felt that in necessity we are free. Surely such lessons as this last, which in one shape or other is the grand lesson for every mortal man, 160 are better learned from the lips of a devout mother, in the looks and actions of a devout father, while the heart is yet soft and pliant, than in collision with the sharp adamant of fate, attracting us to shipwreck us, when the heart is grown hard, and may be broken before it will 165 become contrite ! Had Burns continued to learn this, as he was already learning it, in his father's cottage, he would have learned it full}', which he never did, and been saved many a lasting aberration, many a bitter hour and year of remorseful sorrow. 170 Analysis. — 163, 164. Name the figure in these lines, 166. Had Bums continued, etc. What is the mode of the verb? 168, Name the antecedent of which. 169. been saved. Name the mode and the t«Qse. 27. JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE, 1818-1804. James Anthony Froude, one of England's greatest historians, and the son of Dr. Froude, archdeacon of Totness, was born in Devonshire in 1818. He was edu- cated at Westminster and at Oriel College, Oxford. Af- ter having won the Chancellor's Prize in 1842 for an English essay, he became a Fellow of Exeter College. Froude first appeared as an author in 1847, when he published Shadows from the Clouds, a work of consider- able merit, but now almost forgotten. His next attempt was T/lc Ne7iiesis of Faith, which he meant as a protest against the reverence of the Church for what he calls Hebrew mythology. This work having offended the universities, he was deprived of his fellowsliin, and also of a position to which he had been appointed in Tasmania. Froude's great work, and the one on whicli his fame is based, is liis History of Knglund from the Fall of M'olsey to the Death of Elizabeth, twelve volumes, wliich appeared from 1856 to 1869. The style of the work is admirable, and it is the most conij)lete record extant of the period of which it treats; but it is also ])artisan, and many of the incidents are over-colored, AN'hile his thought is iudicious and forcibly expressed, he sometimes bends the historical fact to establish an argument or enforce an opinion, rather than states the entire truth and per- mits each reader to draw his own conclusions. The most important of Mr. Froude's other writings 278 JAMES ANTHONY FROUDE. 279 are two volumes issued in 1867, entitled Shcri Studies on Great Subjects and T7ie English in Ireland in the Eighteenth Century — which last is in a measure an excuse for the conduct of the English government in its relations to- ward Ireland — and his Sketch of desar, a masterpiece of English composition. CRITICISM. Froude's style in some of his writings resembles that of Carlyle, of whom lie is an admirer, though it is with- out a tinge of the jjessimism which characterized the later writings of his illustrious Scotch model. His claim is that he wrote his History after a careful investi- gation of the material at hand — state documents and correspondence of the time represented; and his aim seems to have been not to justify Henry VIII., but rather to avoid the wholesale censure visited upon that monarch. His style is not only forcible, but also graphic and clear. He has written ably on social and educational topics, as well as on history, and few books better repay a careful perusal than do his Short Studies on Great Subjects and his Sketch of Cscsar. THE INSTRUCT! VEXESS OF ROMAN HISTORY. Note. — This sketch Ih taken from the opening chaiiter of Froude's Sketch of CcEsar. To the student of political history, and to the English student above all others, the conversion of the Roman Republic into a military empire commands a peculiar interest. Notwithstanding many differences, the Eng- lish and the Romans essentially resemble one another. 5 Analysis. — 1-4. Is this a y)erio(Iic or a loose sentence? 5. another. Sliould this be out auolher or each other in si>caking of two nations ? 2ecies, The Descent of Man, Movements and Habits of Climbing Plants, etc. John Tyndall (1820-1893). — An eminent scientist. Born in Ireland. Professor of Natural Philosophy in the Royal Insti- tution. Author of Heat considered as a Mode of Motion, Gla- ciers of the Alps, Fragments of Science, and a number of other scientific works. Herbert Spencer (1820-1904). — A writer on biology and psy- chology. Began life as an engineer. His chief works are Priticiples of Psychology ; Essays, Scientific, Political, and Specu- lative/ Principles of Biology, etc. Henry Thomas Buckle (1822-1862). — A writer of great learning, but often incoherent. Author of A History of Civil- ization. Thomas Henry Huxley, F. R. S. (1825-1895).— A distinguish- ed naturalist. Professor of Natural History in the Royal School of Mines. His prominent works are Man's Place in Nature, Lectures on Comparative Anatomy, Protoplasm, Lay Sermons, etc. Archibald Geikie, LL.D. (1835 ). — A learned geologist. A Scotchman. Wrote The Story of a Boulder, Phenomena of the Glacial Drift of Scotland, etc. Richard A. Proctor (1837-1888). — Eminent as an astronomer. Wrote Saturn and its System, The Expanse of Heaven, Light Science for Leisure Hours, Science Byways, etc. J. Norman Lockyer (1836 ). — An astronomer. Lecturer in the University of Cambridge. Author oi Elementary Lesson$ in Aitroiunny. 294 STUDIES IN ENGLISH LITERATURE, 7. THE0L0G1.ANS. John H. Newman, D. D. (1801-1890).— An eminent theological writer. Educated at Trinity College, Oxford. Some of his most important works are Parochial and Plain Sermons, History of ihe A rians, Historical Sketches, etc. Richard Whately, D. D. (1787-1863).— A theologian and politi- cal eroiiomist. Archbishop of Dublin. Educated at Oriel Col- lege, Oxford. Author of Elements of Logic, Lectures on Political Econo7ui/, Elemaits of Rhetoric, and many essays on theological subjects. R. C. Trench, D. D. (1807-1880).- Archbishop of Dublin. An eminent theologian and scholar. Graduated at Cambridge. Became dean of A\''estminster. Author of Notes on the Parables, Sijnnnyms of the New Testament, Lessons on the Proverbs, Lecturci on the Study of Words; English, Past and Present; also a number of poem.«i and other works. Rev. Arthur Penrhyn Stanley (1815-1881).- Dean of Westmia- Bter. Educated at liugby and Oxford. His principal works are Life of Dr. Arnold, Commentary on the Epistles to the Corinthians, Sinai and Palestine, I^ecfvres on the Jewish Church, Historical Me- morials of Westminster Abbey, etc. Henry Alford, D. D. (1810-1871).— Dean of Canterbury. Poet and critic. Author of Poems and Poetical Fragments, A Plea for the Queen's English, How to Study the New Testament, etc. Rev. F. W. Robertson (181(5-1853). — A popular and eloquent clergyman. Educated at Edinburgh and Oxford. His chief work is four vuhimes of Sermons. Isaac Taylor (1787-1805).— Called " the greatest of English .ay theologians since Coleridge." Author of Elements of Tlionght, The Natural History of Enthusiasm, History of Fanaticiani, etc. Rev. C. H. Spurgeon (1834-1892). — An eloquent and popular English preacher. Author of a number of volumes of eer- mons, Morning by Morning, Evening by Evening, John Plough- man's Talks, etc. Nicholas Wiseman (1802-1865).— Born of Irish parents at Seville, in Spain. Educated in the P^nglish College at Rome A man who posseswd talents of a very liigh order. Was made a cardinal in 1850. His chief work is Twelve Lectwe* on t/ie Connection between Science and Revealed Religion, CONTEMPORANEOVS WRITERS. 296 8. TRAVELERS. A. H. Layard (1817-1894). — A famous traveler. Discovered a iarge number of specimens of Assyrian art at Nineveh. Pub- lished the results of his discoveries in Nineveh and its Remains. Richard Francis Burton (1820-189U). — Another traveler and explorer. Born in Ireland. Author of Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to El Medinah and Meccah, The Lake-Regions of Cen- tral Africa, Ultima Thule ; or, A Summer in Iceland, and many other works. Sir Samuel White Balcer (1821-1893).— A traveler in Africa, Ceylon, etc. Known as "the elephant-hunter." Author of The Rifle and the Hound in Ceylon, Eight Years' Wanderings in Ceijlon; The Albert Nyanza, Great Basin of the Nile; The Nile Tributaries of Abyssinia. Dr. David Livingstone (1817-1873). — An African missionary and traveler who made many important discoveries in Africa. Author of Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa, Narrative of an Expeilition to the Zambesi and its Tributaries, etc. Dr. John Brown (1810-1882). — A charming essayist. Grad- uated at the University of Edinburgh. Wrote Horoe Subse- civce, an exquisite chapter of which is known as "Rab and his Friends." Wrote also some delightful chapters on " Dogs." He was also a prolific writer for medical journaJa. Lowell, Emerson, Channing, Prescott, Bancroft, Motley, / Bryant, Whittier, / Longfellow, Holmes. EEVOLUTIONARY PERIOD, 1760-1830. Drake, Halleek. COLONIAL PERIOD, 1640-1760. Jonathan Edwards. AMERICAN LITERATURE. AMERICAN LITERATURE. The first book printed in America, the Bay Psalm- Book, was ])ublished in 1640 ; and this may be said to have been the beginning of American literature, though George Sandys, a resident of Virginia, is said to have translated Ovid's Metamorphoses some years earlier. Efforts were made in both New England and Virginia, soon after the settlement of each, to establish schools and colleges, but literature was at first neglected, because the energies of the people were necessarily directed to the settlement and development of the country. In the earliest i3eriod of our national history, not only our schools, but also our thought and writings, were in a measure fashioned after English models. The litera- ture therefore was largely imitative, and it continued so for the first two hundred years of our country's exist- ence. No nation, however, has witnessed a more rapid and at the same time more healtliy literary growth than lias America since the beginning of the present century. American Literature may be divided into three periods, as follows : 1. The Colonial Period. From 1040 to 1760. 2. The Revolutionary Period. From 1700 to 1830. 3. The National Period. From 1830 to the present. 2«7 I. THE COLONIAL PEMOD. 1640-1760 The Colonial Age was mainly one of fighting anvi manual industiy. The warfare with the Indians and tlie struggle for existence on the part of our early set- tlers left but little time or opportunity for literary cul- ture. The drama, then the most popular form of litera- ture in England, was not tolerated by the Puritans, and it did not flourish, therefore, in America. Libraries were few, and the means of communicating ideas but scant ; hence the age was not favorable to literary development, and the growth of American literature was slow indeed. Owing to these causes also, learning was confined mainl}'' to the clergy, and we find as a consequence that the liteiature of this period is almost wholly of a theologi- cal character. L JONATHAN EDWARDS, 1703-1758. The greatest writer of the Colonial Period of Ameri- can literature was Jonathan Edwards, a distinguished divine and metaphysician, who was born in Windsor, Connecticut, in the year IVO^. At the age of thirteen he entered Yale College, and at nineteen he became a, preacher in New York. A year later he was elected 2i*8 JONATHAN EDWARDS. 299 f.utor in Yale, which position he filled for two years, discharging the duties with great success. He then joined his grandfather as the latter's colleague in the ministry at the village of Northampton, Massachusetts, where his time was given wholly to study and the duties of his profession. Edwards first gained fame as a writer by his treatise on Oriylnal Sin. His chief work, and also his most pro- found, is An Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will. It is indeed a " masterpiece of metaphysical reasoning." Among his other works may be mentioned A Treatise concerning Religious Affections, The Nature of True Virtue, and The Hkiory of Redemption. Edwards followed his profession as a Congregational minister until the year 1757, when he was elected Presi- dent of the College of New Jersey at Princeton, where he died of small-pox in the following j'ear. CRITICISM ("CHAMBERS'S CYCLOPAEDIA"). Edwards was a proficient in classic and Hebrew literature, physics, mathematics, history, chronology, mental philosophy, and ethics. His greatest work was written in four and a half months, during which he carried on the correspondence of the mission, and preached each Sabbath two sermons in English and two by interpreters to two Indian congregations, be- sides catechising the children of both tribes. His ne- glect of style as a writer is to be regretted. His works were printed very much as first written, yet a marked improvement was effected in his later years. The style of the Inquiry into the Dredom of the Will (written, as has just been said, in so short a time) is considered by competent judges to be as correct as that of most meta- physical treatises. 300 STUIFES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. MEANING OF THE PHRASE "MORAL INABILITY.** Note. — The following short selection from Edwards's treatise on Ihe Freedom of the Will illustrates his style and method of thouglj* It must he observed concerning moral inability, in each kind of it, that the word mnbiUty is used in a sense very diverse from its original import In the strict- est propriety of speech, a man has a thing in his power if lie has it in his choice or at his election; and a man 5 cannot be truly said to be unable to do a thing when he can do it if lie will. It is improiterly said that a person cannot perform those external actions which are depend- ent on the act of tlie will, and whioli would be easily })crformed if the act of the will were present. And if 10 it be ini))roperly said that he cannot perform those ex- ternal voluntary actions which depend on tlie will, it is in some resi)ects more improperly said that he is unable to exert the acts of the will themselves; because it ia more evidently false, with respect to these, that he can- IS not if he will ; for to say so is a downright contradiction; it is to say he cannot will if he does will. And in this case, not only is it true that it is easy for a man to do the thing if he will, but the very willing is the doing; Analysis. — 1. concerning. Give the grammatical construction. 3. diverse. Modernize. import. What is the meaninjj; here? 5. Give the meaning of election in this line. 7. What is the meaning of will as here used ? 7-10. Analyze the sentence. 10. Give the grammatical construction of present. 14. ezert the arU. Explain. 15. Dispose of the word more. 16. CJive the grammatical construction of to say. 17. not only w it true. How is not only us/xl here? 18. Give the grammatical construction of to do. 19. Parse verv. CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITERS. 301 when once he has willed, the thing is performed, and 20 nothing else remains to be done. Therefore, in these things to ascribe a non-performance to the want of power or ability is not just, because the thing wanting is not a being able, but a being willing. There are facul- ties of mind and capacity of nature, and everything else 25 sufficient, but a disposition; nothing is wanting but a will. A N ALYSis. — 20. when once he has willed, the thing is performed. Which b the modifying clause? 21. Dispose of the word else. 23. Dispose of the word ivanting. 24. a being able, but a being willing. Give the grammatical construo tion of being able, being willing. 25, 26. Dispose of each of the following words: everything, eUe, sufficient. 26, 27. nothing is wanting but a will. Dispose of nothing, wanting, but, will. CONTEMPOEANEOUS WRITERS. Rev. Increase Mather (1612-1672). — ^A very learned man, and for some years President of Harvard College. Wrote Remark- able Providences. Rev. Cotton Mather (1663-1728).— Son of Rev. Increase Mather. Graduated at Harvard when only fifteen years of age. Wrote Magnalia Christi Americana, The Wonders of the Invisible World, and Memorable Providences relating to Witch- craft. Rev. John Eliot (1604-1690).— A missionary to the Indians. Translated tlie first Bible into the Indian dialect, which trans- lation was also the first Bible printed in America. . Mrs. Ann Bradstreet (1612-1672).— The first female Ainer- lean poet, Wilo of Governor Bradstreet. Wrote The Four Elements. THE REYOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 1760-1830. The American Revolution, which resulted in the es- tablishment of the United States as a nation, disturbed the literary as well as the political world. Most of the pampiilets and books written during this period had only a temporary interest, because they related to the struggle in which the coloiiies were engaged, and few of them were preserved. The orations, tiiough spirited, were mainly of a political and patriotic character, and most of them never were printed. It was not, indeed, until we felt that our liberties were secure that literature began to receive much encouragement. The age, there- fore, has but few representatives of iiote. 2. JOSEPH RODMAxN DRAKE, 1795-1820. Joseph Rodman Drake, a poet of groat promise, who was stricken down by consumption at the early age of twenty-five, was born in the city of New York on the 7th of August, 1795. His father died while the j.oet wa8 yet quite young, and left the family, consisting of Joseph and three sisters, in comparative povert/. Drake, however, obtained a good education, and com- pleted the study of medicine under the direction of his warm personal friend, Dr. Nicholas Romayne. Soon after obtaining liis degree, in October, 1816, lie married 302 JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE. 303 Sarah Eckford, whose wealth placed him in affluent circumstances. After his marriage, in company Tvith his wife and his brother-in-law, Dr. De Kay, D;ake visited Europe. Having returned, and finding hia health much impaired, he spent the winter of 181!) iu New Orleans ; but his fatal disease had already laid hold on him, and he returned to New York in the spring of 1820, only to die on the following 21st of September. Drake was a poet from boyhood. It is said he pro- duced excellent verses at the age of fourteen. He was the warm personal friend of the poet Halleck, and to- gether they published the Oroakers, a series of poems, in the Evening Post. The series consisted of about thirty poems, nearly half of them, including The American Flag, having been written by Drake. The Culprit Fay, Drake's most finished poem, was v/ritten in the summer of 1819. It was the result of a discussion in which Cooper the novelist and Fitz-Greene Halleck, in speaking of the adaptation of the Scottish streams to the uses of poetry by their romantic asso- ciations, claimed that such was not the case with Amer- ican streams. Drake, naturally a disputer, took the opposite view, and to prove his position set to work, and taking the Highlands of the Hudson as the place in which to locate liis scene, ])roduced in three days The Culprit Fay, a most exquisite poem. CRITICISM. One who knew Drake well says of him: "His per- ception was ra[)id and his memory tenacious. He de- voured all tlie works of imagination. His favorite i)oet8 were Shakespeare, Burns, and Campbell. He was fone b^. 3. FITZ-GREENE HALLECK, 1790-1867. Fitz-Greene Halleck, the poet, was bom at Guil- ford, in Connecticut, July 8, 1790. Like his personal friend, Drake, he wrote verses as early as the age of fourteen. At eighteen he became a clerk in a banking- house in New York, and afterward he was bookkeeper in the private office of John Jacob Astor, the great fur- merchant, with whom he remained until the death of that millionaire ; soon after which he retired to Guil- ford, where he remained up to the time of his death, in 1867. Halleck gained his first literary celebrity in connec- tion with the poems written by himself and Drake, which appeared over the pseudonym Croaker & Go. in the Evening Post in the year 1819. Most of these poems were of a personal character, in which the poets satirized the editors, politicians, aldermen, and small theatrical personages of the day. But among them were also pieces of true poetic character, such as The World is Bright before Thee and There is an Evening Twilight of il^ Heart. In 1821, Halleck published a satirical squib entitled Fanny, which is written in the style of Byron's Don Juan, and which satirizes the political as well as the fashionable literary enthusiasm of the day. It was a great hit, but owed its permanent success to the music of its verses. After Halleck's visit to England in 1822 be produced his verses on Galnwick Cattle. These, with 307 308 SlUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. his Marco Bozzaris and his lines on Burns, with other poems, were issued in book form in 1827. CRITICISM. The versification of Halleck's poems is smooth and narmonious; indeed, it is ahnost perfect; and this is characteristic of his writings, whether he deals with the simplest subject or pours out in glowing eifulgence the most brilliant thoughts on the most exalted themes. He displays also a geniality of feeling and a delicacy of humor which make his writings very pleasing. It is to be regretted that Ilalleck, who wrote so well, wrote so little. MARCO BOZZARIS. Note. — Bo/.zaris was a Greek patriot wlio fell in an attack upon the Turkish camp at La.spi, the site of the ancient Plata>a, August 20, 1823, and expired in the moment of victory, exclaiming, " To die for liberty is a pleasure, not a pain." At midnight, in his guarded tent, The Turk was dreaming of the hour When Greece, her knee in suppliance bent, Should tremble at his power: In dreams, through camp and court, he bore i The trophies of a conqueror; In dreams his song of triumph heard ; Then wore his monarch's signet-ring: Then pressed that monarch's throne — a king; As wild his thoughts, and gay of wing, 10 As Kdcn's garden-bird. Analysis. — 3. Wheii Greece, etc. What figure? Parse hnee and ktnt. 5, C. What kind of sentence — periodic or loose 7 7. Name the swlyeot of the clause. 8. Name the subject in this line, siijnei-ring. What figure? 9. Parse king. 10, 11. Write in prose form. Give the case of yardm-bird. FITZ-GREENE HALLECK. 309 At midnight, in the forest shades, Bozzaris ranged his Suliote band, True as the steel of their tried blades, Heroes in heart and hand. 15 There had the Persian's thousands stood ; There had the glad earth drunk their blood On old Plata^a's day : And now there breathed that haunted air The sons of sires who conquered there, 20 With arms to strike, and souls to dare, As quick, aa far, as they. An hour passed on — th^ Turk awoke ; That bright dream was his last ; He woke — to hear his sentries shriek, 25 " To arms ! they come 1 the Greek I the Greek 1" He woke — to die 'midst flame and smoke. And shout, and groan, and sabre-strokfe. And death-shots falling thick and fast As lightnings from the mountain-cloud ; 36 And heard, with voice as trumpet loud, AnaIiYSIS. — 14. Parse the word True. 15. Parse Heroes. What is (lie meaning of heart and hand here ? 17. earth had druvlc. What figure? 18. old Platcea's day. This refers to the victory of the Lacedae- monian Greeks over the Persians in the year 479 B. c. Plataea was a city in the western part of Boeotia, near Attica. 19. Parse the word there. 20. Parse the word there. 22 To what does aa quick refer ? also as Jar f Give the ante- cedent and the ciuse of they. 2t 26 Ctive the full object of shriek. 26. To anus/ To what is this phrase equivalent? Give the graramaticsil construction of Greek. 29. Give the grammatical construction of thick and fast. 30. In what case is lightnings f Name tlie antecedent cf the ad« 'unci from mountain-cloud. 31. Parse trumpet and loud. 310 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. Bozzaris cheer his band : " Strike — till the last armed foe expires ; Strike — for your altars and your fires ; Strike — fbr the green graves of your sires; 85 God — and your native land I" They fought — like brave men, long and well; They piled that ground with Moslem slain; They conquered, but Bozzaris fell, Bleeding at every vein. 40 His few surviving comrades saw His smile, when rang their proud hurrah, And the red field was won : Then saw in death his eyelids close, Calmly as to a night's repose, 46 Like flowers at set of sun. Come to the bridal-chamber. Death ; Come to the mother when she feels, For the first time, her first-born's breath; Come, when the blessed seals 60 Which close the pestilence are broke, And crowded cities wail its stroke ; Come, in consumption's ghastly form, The earthquake's shock, the ocean-storm. Come when the heart beats high and warm 56 Analysis. — 32. Give the grammatical construction of cheer. 33, 34, 35, 30. What is the force of the dasli in each line ? 37. Parse lilce and men. 38. Who were the Moderiut f 40. What does this line modify ? 43. What is the meaning of ral field here ? 44. What is the subject of the clause in this line? Di^poM 0# U» * word close. 45 8iiiti)ly the ellipsis. 46 Parse tike and flawers. 61 Justify the use of are broke. 52. Name the figure in the line. 53. What figure in tliis line? &6. Give the grammatical construction of high and warm. FITZ-GREENE HALLECK. 311 With banquet song, and dance, and wine ; And thou art terrible ; the tear. The groan, the knell, the pall, the bier, And all we know, or dream, or fear Of agony, are thine. 60 But to the hero, when his sword Has won the battle for the free Thy voice sounds like a prophet's word, And in its hollow tones are heard The thanks of millions yet to be. 65 Come, when his task of Fame is wrought, Come, with her laurel-leaf, blood-bought, Come in her crowning hour ; and then Thy sunken eye's unearthly light To him is welcome as the sight 70 Of sky and stars to prisoned men ; Thy grasp is welcome as the hand Of brother in a foreign laud ; Thy summons welcome as the cry That told the Indian isles were nigh 76 To the world-seeking Genoese, When the land-wind, from woods of palm, And orange-groves, and fields of balm, Blew o'er the Haytian seas. ANALYSIS. — 57, 58. Point out the figures. 59. ull we know. Supply the ellipsis. 60. Give the grammatical conatructioa of thine. 61-63. Write iu prose order. 6t. hollow tones. What figure? 65 Dispose of yet and to be. 66 What is the form of the verb wrought f 67 Name the antecedent of her. Point out the figure in Lb« line. 70. it. For what tense is this a substitute ? What is the case of nghtf 72. In what case is hand f 75. Parse nlyh. Why called Indian isles f 76 Who is meant in this line ? 312 STUDIES :y AMERICAN LITERATURE. Bozzaris 1 with the storied brave M Greece nurtured in her glorj^'s time, Rest thee — there is uo prouder grave, Even in her own proud clime. She wore no funeral weeds for thee Nor bade the dark hearse wave its plume, 86 Like torn branch froiu death's leafless tree, In sorrow's jionip and pageantry, The heartless luxury of the tomb. But she remembers thee as one Long loved and for a season gone ; 90 For thee her poet's lyre is wreathed, Her marble wrought, her music breathed; For thee she rings the birthday-bells, Of thee her babes' lirst lisping tells; For thine her evening prayer is said 96 At palace couch and cottage bed ; Her soldier, closing with the foe, Gives, for thy sake, a deadlier blow ; His plighted maiden, when she fears For him, the joy of her young years, 100 Thinks of thy fate and checks her tears; And she, the mother of thy boys, Though in her eye and faded cheek Is read the grief she will not speak, The memory of her buried joys, 106 Analysis. — 80. Wliat is tlie meaning of storied braveJ 80-83. Point out tlie ligure in the.se lines. 81. Snpply the ellipsis. Greece nurtured. Winit figure? 82. prouder grave. Ciive tiie meaning. 83. Even is an en]i)lnitic adverl), modifying the claiiae. 84. Junercd weed*. AVliat (ignre? 85. waveiti plume. Wliat figure? 88. Parse luxury. 89. Name the antecedents of she and tlie^. Parse one. 91. What is the meaning of poet's tyre? 96. Point ont the tignre in llie line. 100. (live the ixux of ioy CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITERS. 31 S And even she who g.ive thee birth Will, by their pilgrim-circled hearth, Talk of thy doom without a sigh ; For thou art Freedom's now, and Fame'Sj One of the few, the immortal names 111 That were not born to die. Analysis. — 107. pUgrim-cirrted hearth. What is the meuiing? 111. Of what ifi not a modifier? CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITERS. 1. POETS. Philip Freneau (1752-1832). — A popular political poet of the Revolutionary Period. Educated at Princeton. A classmate of Madison. Francis Hopkinson (1738-1791). — A witty poet. Educated at the University of Pennsylvania. Became a judge of the United States District Court in 1790. Author of The Pretty Story, The Battle of the Kegs, etc. John Trumbull (1750-1831).— A writer of satires. Educated at Yale. Became a judge of the Superior Court in 1801. Au- thor of McFirifjal, The Progress of Dullness, etc. Joseph Hopkinson (1770-1842). — Son of Francis Hopkinson. A lawyer by profession. Educated at the University of Penn- sylvania. Was made judge of the United States District Court in 1828. Author of ifnil Columbia. Clement C. Moore (1779-18()3).— A Professor of Oriental and Gieok Literature. Graduated at Columbia College. Author of A Visit from St.. Nicholas and many other poems, also, a Hebreio and English Lexicon. Francis Scott Key (1779-1843).— A lawyer at Washington, D. C. Educated at St. John's College, Annapolis. Wrote Star- 8}yangled Banner and other poems. Samuel Woodworth (1785-1842).— A printer. One of tlie founders of the New York Mirror. Wrote The Old Oaken Bucket and a number of dramatic pieces. 314 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. Mrs. Maria Brooks (1795-1845). — Pronounced by Smthey "the most impassioned and most imaginative of all poetesses.' Uer chief poem is Zophiel ; or, The Bride of Seven. 2. PROSE-WRITERS. Benjamin Franklin (1706-1790). — One of the greatest phil- osoj)iiers and statesmen of his age. Rose from a tallow- chandler's boy to some of the highest positions under the government. Among his chief works are his Autobiography, his Essays, etc. John Adams (1735-1826).— Second President of the United States. Educated at Harvard. One of the framers of the Declaration of Independence. Author of many political and state jiapers. Thomas Jefferson (1743-1826).— Third President of the United States. A great scholar and statesman. Author of Notes on Virginia. ^Vrote also the " Declaration of ludpendence." Dr. Benjamin Rush (1745-1813). — A medical writer of great reputation. Educated at Princeton. Author of Medical In- quiries and Obifervations and many miscellaneous essays. Lindiey Murray (1745-1820). — Author of the first English Grammar; also of the English Reader. Wrote also a num- ber of poems. Born near Swatara, Pennsylvania. Hugh H. Brackenridge (1748-1816). — An eminent politician and judge. Educated at Princeton. Was also a minister. Author of Modern Chivalry and other works. Timothy Dwight (1752-1817). — Both a poet and a theologian. Educated at Yale. Became President of Yale College. His chief prose work is Theology Explained and Defended. Among bis best poems are Columbia and Greenfield Hill. John Witherspoon (1722-1794). — One of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. Became President of Princeton College in 1768. Educated at Edinburgh. Author of Eataya on Important Subjects and other works. Dr. David Ramsay (1749-1815). — An liistorian of the Revolu- tion. Educate(l at Princeton. Resided mostly in South Caro- lina. Author of History of South Carolina, History of the United States, Life of Washington, etc. James Madison (1751-l^o6). — Fourth President of the United CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITERS. 315 'States. Celebrated as a statesman. Educated at Princeton. His chief literary works are his papers in The FederaVist. Alexander Wilson (1766-1813). — An ornithologist. Born m Scotland. Wrote both prose and poetry. Author of an extend- ed work on ornithology. Charles Brockden Brown (1771-1810). — The first American novelist. He was of Quaker descent. Wrote Wieland, Alarin, Arthur Mervyn, etc. Archibald Alexander (1772-1851). — A distinguished theolo- gian. Became President of Hampden-Sidney College. Was for thirty-eight years Professor of Theology at Princeton. Au- tlior of Evidences of Christian Reli(jion, History of the Israelitish Nation, etc. John Marshall (1755-1835).— A celebrated jurist. Chief-jus- tice of the United States. Author of The Life of Washington. Alexander Hamilton (1757-1804). — A soldier, statesman, and jurist. Secretary of the Treasury under Washington. Was killed in a duel by Aaron Burr. His literary fame rests on his contributions to The Federalist. William Wirt (1772-1834). — An American lawyer. Attorney- general of tiie United States from 1817 to 1829. Author of Letters of a British Spy and Sketches of the Life and Character of Patrick Henry. John J. Audubon (1780-1851). — Celebrated as a writer on ornithology. His chief work is The Birds of America, in four volumes. Judge James Kent (1763-1847). — Distinguished as a writer on law. Educated at Yale. Wrote Commentaries on American Law. James K. Paulding (1779-1860). — Secretary of the Navy under President Van Bureu. Author of Tlie Diverting History of John Bull and Brother Jonathan, Merry Tales of the Three Wise Men of Gotham, Wcdward Ho! and many other works. Joseph Story (1779-1845). — A celebrated American jurist. Educated at Harvard. Became a judge of the United States Supreme Court. Author of Commentary on the Constitution of the United States and many treatises on legal matters. Washington Allston (1779-1843). — Celebrated as artist, poet, and prose-writer. Author of The Sylphs of the Seasons, Romanct (f Monaldi, Lectures on Art, etc. THE I^ATIOI^AL PERIOD. 1830 to the Present Time From 1830 onward America has sliown a rapid lite- rary development such as was never before known in her history. Libraries have rapidly increased ; the newspapers and other periodicals have added largely to the dissemination of knowledge ; a healthy literary sen- timent has grown up ; a literary atmosphere has been created which has i)roved congenial to authorship ; and an active demand for more and better reading-matter has developed the talent of American writers. As a result, works of great merit both in prose and in poetry have been produced with great rapidity, and book-mak- ing has become one of the recognized industries of our country. To give an account of all the writers of merit that represent the National Period of our literature would be impossible. The following are therefore selected as rep- resentatives, the other chief writers being included under the head of " Contemporaneous Writers :" 1. Poets — Bryant, Longfellow, Whittier, Holmes. 2. Historians — Bancroft, Prescott, Motley. 3. Essayists — Channing, Emerson, Lowell. 4. Novelists — Irving, Coo])er, Hawthorne. L. Journalists — Curtis, AV'illis. G. Miscellaneous Writers — Taylor, Holland, Mit- cJiell. 7. Orators — Webster, Everett. 81« 4. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT, 1794-1878. "S^'iLLiAM CuLLEN Bryant, One of America's greatest poets, was born at Cummington, Hampshire county, Massachusetts, on the 3d of November, 1794. His father, who was a physician, was a man of considerable literary culture, and, it is said, taught his son " the value of correctness and compression, and enabled him to dis- tinguish between true poetic enthusiasm and fustian." Bryant gave evidence of his poetic ability in very early life, having written verses when but nine years of age. At the age of ten, we are informed, he wrote a little poem which was spoken at school, and which was after- ward published in a county newspaper. The Embargo, which was his first published volume, was written when he was but fourteen. It was publish- ed in Boston in 1809. Bryant was educated at Williams College, which he left without taking his degree, and began the study of law. After having been admitted to the bar he practiced his profession for a year at Plainfield, and then at Great Barrington, Mass., but in 1825 he abandoned the law for literature, which he made his profession for life. He first edited the New York Review and Athenaeum Magazine, a monthly periodical, which in the following year was merged in a new work of similar character called The United States Review and Literary Gazette, of which also Bryant l)ecame editor. In 1826 he became editor of the New York Ecening Post, which position he held to the ti'iie of his death, in 1878. 317 318 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. Bryant's celebrity as a poet was established by Thana- lopsis, published in 1816, but written when the author was only eighteen years of age. This exquisite poem was published in the North American Review, and at once attracted great attention. It immediately placed its author in the foremost rank of American poets — an honorable place which he has ever since maintained. His next notable attempt was his poem, TJie Ages, de- livered at Harvard in 1821. Many of Br3'ant's best- known poems appeared in the periodicals of which he was editor, though others were contributed to other periodicals of the day. He was also a prose- writer of great force, having a clear, concise style, which charac- terized every article he wrote, and with which neither hurry, excitement, nor the press of business was per- mitted to interfere. Among Bryant's best works are his poems, Thnnatop- sis, The Death of the Floivers, Forest Hymn, The Evening Wind, Gh-een River, Song of the Saviour, The Planting of the Apple Tree, Waiting at the Gate, and The Flood of Years. In addition to his editorials in the Pofit, his chief prose works were his contributions to the Talisman, Letters of a Traveler, and an excellent translation of Homer, in four volumes. Bryant, like Wordsworth, was a poet of Nature, and by some he has been styled "the American Words- worth," though in purity of diction and dignity and elegance r f style he is very much superior to his Eng- lish compeer. Bryant's country home for many years of the latter part of his life was at Roslyn, on Long Island, a pictur- esque spot affording in itself excelk'nt tlicmes for the poet. He died on tlie 12th of June, 1878, from the effects of a stroke which he received just after having delivered an oration in Central Park, New York, on the WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 319 occasion of erecting a statue to the Italian patrioc Maz- zini. CRITICISM By G. W. CDRTIS. His poetry is intensely and distinctively American. He was a man of scholarly accomplishment, familiar with other languages and literature. But there is no tone or taste of anything not peculiarly American In his poetry. It is as characteristic as the wine of the Catawba grape, and could have been written only in America by an American naturally sensitive to what- ever is most distinctively American. Bryant's fame as a poet was made half a century before he died, and the additions to his earlier verse, while they did not lessen, did not materially increase, his reputation. But the mark so early made was never effaced, either by him- self or others. Younger men grew by his side into great and just fame. But what Shelley says of love is as true of renown : "True love in this differs from gold and clay, That to divide is not to take away." The tone of Bryant remained, and remained distinct, individual, and unmistakable. Nature, as he said in Thanatopsis, speaks " a various language " to her lovers. But what she said to him was plainly spoken, and clear- ly heard and perfectly repeated. His art was exquisite. THANATOPSIS. To him who in the love of Nature holds Communion with her visible forms, she speaka A various language : for his gayer hours Analysis. — 1-3. Is the sentence periodic or loose? Rewrite in prose order. Point otit the figure in the first line. 2. What is the meaning of visible fonmf 3. A various language. Explain by tlie following lines, ffct'jer IkowB. Whal figure? 320 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. She has a voice of gladness, and a smile And eloquence of beauty, and she glides i Into his darker musings with a mild And healing sympathy, that steals away Their sharpness ere he is aware. When thoughU Of the last bitter hour come like a blight Ktjer thy spirit, and sad images 10 O: the stern agony, and shroud, and pall. And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, Make thee to shudder, and grow sick at heart, — Go forth under the open sky, and list To Nature's teachings, while from all around — 15 Earth and her waters, and the depths of air — Comes a still voice. Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course ; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form is laid with many tears, 20 Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again, And, lost each human trace, surrendering up Anaia'SIS. — 7. healing sympathy. What is the meaning? 8. Their sharpness. What figure? Pai-se ere and (xirare. 9. the last bitter hour. What figure? 'Purse like and blight. 11. stern agony. What figure? What figures on shroud and paUf 13. Parse sick. 14. Dispose of the yrord forth. Give a diflferent form for list. 15. (Jive the construction of all and around. 16. Of what is this line explanatory? What figure in the line? 17. Parse the word days. 18. (live the meaning of more. 19. In /i/.s courxe. Wliat fitjiire? Why nor yet instead of neither f nor yrt. With what ia this correlative? 19-22. nor yet ... . image. Write in prose form. 20. (4ive the granmiatical construction of Where. 22. What figure in the line? 23. Thy grmdh. What fi{,'nre? to be resolved, etc. Explain. 24. Give tlie grammatical conHtrnction of lost and trace, surrendet- mg up, etc. C'riti<;iHe. Of what is the plinwe an adjunct? WILL/AM CULLEN BRYANT. 321 I'hine individual being, shalt thou go 26 To mix for ever with the elements — To be a brother to the insensible rock, And M the sluggish clod which the rude swain lurns with his share, and treads upon. The oak Shall send his roots abroad, and pierce thy mould. 80 Yet not to thine eternal resting-place Shalt thou retire alone, — nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, The powerful of the earth — the wise, the good, 86 Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre. The hills Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun, — the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between ; The venerable woods ; rivers that move 40 In majesty, and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green ; and, poured round all. Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste, — Are but the solemn decorations all Of the great tomb of man. The golden sun, 45 The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes Analysis. — 25. What is the subject of shalt got 27. a brother, etc. What figure ? 28. What is the meaning of rude swain f 20 Explain poetic license on the use of share. 3C Point out the figures in tlie line. 32 Dispose of alone. 35. Scan the line and criticise 38. rock-ribbed. What figure? 44, Name the subjects of are. Parse but and all. solemn decorations. What figure? 45. The golden sun. What figure? 47. Name the figure in this line. 49. What is the grammatical use of but? Give the meaning ol tribes 21 322 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. That slumber in its bosom. Take the wings 5€ Of morning, and the Barcan desert pierce, Or lose thyself in the continuous woods Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound Save his own dashings, — yet the dead are there i And millions in those solitudes, since fii"st 58 The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep : the dead reign there alone. So shalt thou rest; and what if thou withdraw Unheeded by the living, and no friend Take note of thy departure? All that breathe 60 Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh When thou art gone ; the solemn brood of care Plod on ; and each one, as before, will chase His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come 66 And make their bed with thee. As the long train Of ages glides away, the sons of men — The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes \n'alysis. — 50. Point out tlie fifjure. 50, 51. Take .... pierce. Where is Barea ? What objections are tliere to the readings sonietirues given, " pierce the Barcan wilder- ness" and "traverse Barca's desert sands"? 63. Oregon. Wliat is tlie jireseut name of this river ? 64. What figure in the line ? 55-57. Point out the figures. 66. have laid (hem down. Give the frrnnimatical construction. 68. What if, etc. Supply the ellipsis. 68,59. Some readings give "witlulraw in silence from;" other% 'if thou shalt fall unnoticed." What are the objeetions to these? 60. Give the tense of Take. Why (hat in {)reference to whof 62. solemn brood of care. What figure? 63. as before. Supply ellipsis, ['ar^e hi/ore. Q^. favorite phanlnm. What figure? shall leave. Should the au.xiliary he ^hall or wiUt 66. make their bed. Elucidate, and name the figure. 67. The poet originally wrote (jlide instead of gUdr*. 68. green spring. Criticise. *>8-71. Mention specifications of sovs of men. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 323 In the full strength of years, matron and maid, The bowed with age, the infant in the smiles 7t And beauty of its innocent age cut off — Shall, one by one, be gathered to thy side, By those who, in their turn, shall follow them. So live, that when thy summons comes to join The innumerable caravan that moves ?• To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take His chamber in the silent halls of death, Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave M Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. Analysis. — 70, 71. This was originally written as followB : " And the sweet babe, and the gray-headed man." 71. Give the grammatical construction of cut off. 72. Dispose of one by one. 74-79. Name the modifiers of live ; the modifiers of go ; the mod- ifiers of summons; the modifiers of caravan. 76. where each, etc. What does the clause modify? 77. Name the figure in the line. 78. Give the mode of go. Parse like and quari-y-slave. "What doe* at night modify ? 79. Scourged to his dungeon. What does the phrase modify ? sustained, etc. What does the phrase modify ? 80. approach thy grave, etc. What does this clause modify ? 81. 82. like one, etc What do these lines modiiy ? 5. HE.\RY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW, 1807-1882. Henky Wadsworth Longfellow, a distinguished writer of both prose and poetry, was born in Portland, Maine, on the 27th of February, 1807. He was edu- cated at Bowdoiu College, where he graduated in the Bame class with Nathaniel HaAvthorne in 1825. After his graduation he studied law for a short time in the office of his father, the Hon. Stephen Longfellow, but on his appointment in 1826 to the professorship of Modern Languages and Literature in the college from which he had graduated, he went to P^urope, where he spent three years in travel and study, preparing him- self for the duties of his ])osition. On his return he delivered a course of lectures at Bowdoin, and also con- tributed a number of valuable articles to the North Amer- ican Review. Longfellow held his position at Bowdoin until 1835, when he was chosen Professor of Modern Languages and Literature in Harvard College. He then made a second tour of Europe, to fit himself the more thoroughly for his work, this time visiting Denmark, Sweden, Holland, and Switzerland. He held the position at Harvard until the year 1854. when he resigned his ])rofcssorship. Longfellow wrote and published a number of accept- able verses in the United Stales Ijiterary Gazette as early as 1825, but his best work was done later in life. In 1835 he published a prose work, Outre Mer ; or, Sketches from Beyond the Sea, which from its elegance of diction and fastidious scholarship at once attracted attention. 324 HENRY WADSWORTU LONGFELLOW. 325 Four years later he published his second prose work, Hyperion : a Romance. Longfellow's first volume of poetry, entitled Voices of the Night, which included sucn favorites as the "Psalm of Life," "Midnight Mass fcr Hie Dying Year," and others, was issued also in 1839. Following this volume, there came in 1841 Ballads and Other Poems, and then, in rapid succession. Poems on Slavery, The Spanish Student, a tragedy ; The Poets anu Poetry of Europe, The Belfry of Bruges, Evangeline, an ex- tended poem in hexameter verse; Kavanagh, a prose story ; The Seaside and Eireside, a collection of short poems ; The Golden Legend, The Song of Hiawatha, an American Indian tale ; Miles Standish, Tales of a Way- side Inn, Elower de Luce; a translation of Dante, The Divine Tragedy ; The Three Books of Song, The Masque of Pandora, Keramos, and others. Some of Longfellow's most popular poems are Evan- geline, Tlie Old Clock on the Stairs, Excelsior, Skeleton in Armor, Tfie Builders, The Building of the Ship, Resig- nation, The Hanging of the Crane, The Courtship of Miles Standish, and Paul Revere^s Ride. Mr. Longfellow's house at Cambridge is the one once occupied by Washington as his head-quarters. The poet was twice married : his first wife died in Holland in 1835, and his second was burned to death in 1861, her clothes having taken fire accidentally while she was playing with her children. The poet died at hia home in Cambridge, March 24, 1882. CKITICISM BY GEORGE W. CURTIS. liONGFELLOw's literary career has been contemporary with the sensational school, but he has been entirely untainted by it. The literary style of an intellectually iutroverted age or author will always be somewhat ob- 326 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. Bcure, however gorgeous ; but Longfellow's mind takci a simple, child-like hold of life, and his style never be- trays the inadequate effort to describe thoughts or emo- tions that are but vaguely perceived, which is the cha- racteristic of the best sensational writing. Indeed, there is little poetry by the eminent contemporary masters which is so ripe and racy as his. He does not make rhetoric stand for passion, nor vagueness for profundity ; nor, on the other hand, is he such a voluntary and ma- licious " Bohemian " as to conceive that either in life or letters a man is released from the plain rules of moral- ity. Indeed, he used to be accused of preaching in his poetry by gentle critics, who held that Elysium was to be found in an oyster-cellar, and that intemperance was the royal prerogative of genius. His literary scholar- ship, also his delightful familiarity with the pure lit- erature of all languages and times, must rank Long- fellow among the learned poets. THE LAUNCH OF THE SHIP. Note. — This selection is taken from Longfellow's Seaside and Fireside poems. All is finished; and at length Has come the bridal-day Of beauty and of strength. To-day the vessel shall be launched I With fleecy clouds the sky is blanched; ( And o'er the bay, Slowly, in all his splendors dight, Tbe great sun rises to behold the sight. Analysis. — 1-3. Point out the figure. 3. To what do beauty and sIrenijlU refer? b. fleecy clouds. What figure? 7. What is the meaning of t/t'^/U/ Give a aynonym. 8. Point out the fijrure. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 327 The ocean old, Centuries old, 10 Strong a3 youth, and as uncontrolled, Paces restless to and fro Up and down the sands of gold. His beating heart is not at rest ; And far and wide 16 With ceaseless flow, His beard of stiow Heaves with the heaving of his breast. He wails impatient for his bride. There she stands, 20 With her foot upon the sands, Decked with flags and streamers gay, . In honor of her marriage-day ; Her snow-white signals fluttering, blending, Round her like a veil descending, 26 Ready to be The bride of the gray old sea. On the deck another bride Is standing by her lover's side. Shadows from the flags and shrouds, SC Xiike the shadows cast by clouds, Broken by many a sunny fleck, Fall around them on the deck. Analysis. — 9-19. Wliat e.xtended figure? 12. Dispose of to and fro and restless. 15-18. Recoustriu't tlie periodic sentence. 17. beard of s'limo. What figure? 18. Parse impatient. What figure in the line' 20-27. What extended figure in these lines? 24. snow-while siffnaU. Wiiat figure ? 25. Point out the figure in the line. 31. Like the shadows, etc. What figure ? 33. Name the subject of Fall. 328 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURK The prayer is said, The service read ; 81 The joyous bridegroom bows his head ; And iu tears the good old master Shakes the brown hand of bis son, Kisses his daughter's glowing cheek In silence, for he cannot speak ; 4C And ever faster Down his own tlie tears begin to run. The worthy pastor — The shepherd of that wandering flock Tliat has the ocean for its wold, 46 That has the vessel for its fold. Leaping ever from rock to rock — Spake, with accents mild and clear, AVords of warning, words of cheer, But tedious to the bridegroom's ear. 60 He knew the chart Of the sailor's heart, — All its pleasures and its griefs; All its shallows and rocky reefs ; All those secret currents that flow 66 AVith such resistless undertow, And lift and drift, with terrible force. The will from its moorings and its course. Therefore he spake, and thus said he: " Like unto shijis far olf at sea, 60 Outward or homeward bound, are we. Before, behind, and all around, Floats and swings the horizon's bound; Analysis. — 35. 8iipi)ly tlie ellipsis. 44. Point out the iigiircs in the line. 45. What 18 the meaning of wold f What figure in the line? 46. What is the meaning of this line? 48. Give the subject of Spake. 60. laliouA to the bridegroom's car. Is this figurative or literal J 61-58. What ligure in the.se liuea ? 69, 60. Pcint out the figure. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 329 Seems at its distant rim to rise And climb the crystal wall of the skies, 6tt And then again to turn and sink, As if we could slide from its outer brink. Ah I it is not the sea, It is not the sea, that sinks and shelves, But ourselves 70 That rock and rise With endless and uneasy motion, — Now toucliing the very skies, Now sinking into the depths of ocean. Ah 1 if our souls but poise and swing 75 Like the compass in its brazen ring, Ever level and ever true To the toil and the task we have to do. We shall sail securely, and safely reach The Fortunate Isles, on whose shining beach 80 The sights we see and the sounds we hear Will be those of joy, and not of fear." Then the master, With a gesture of command, Waved his hand; 85 And, at the word, Loud and sudden there was heard. All around them and below. The sound of hammers, blow on blow, Knocking away the shores and spurs. 90 And see I she stirs I She starts I she moves I she seems to feel The thrill of life along her keel I &JIA.LYSIS. — 65. C7-ystal wall, etc. Wliat figure? 70. Parse ourselves. 73, 74. Point out the figure. 76, Point out the figure. 79, »ccu-ehj and safely. Why are these allowable? How ^\^ald they be written in prose? 90. knocking away, etc. What does it modify ? 91 -96. Point uu'. the extended figure. 3'J() STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITER ATURK And, spurning with her foot the gro\ind, With one exulting, joyous bound 9ft Slie leaijs into the ocean's arms I Andlo! from the assembled crowd There rose a shout prolonged and loud, That to the ocean seemed to say, " Take her, O bridegroom old and gray 1 100 Take her to thy protecting arms, With all her youth and all her charms !" How beautiful she is I How fair She lies within those arms that press Her form with many a soft caress 105 Of tenderness and watchful care 1 Sail forth into the sea, O ship I Through wind and wave right onward steerl The moistened eye, the trembling lip, Are not the signs of doubt or fear. 110 Sail forth into the sea of life, O gentle, loving, trusting wifel And safe from all adversity IJlton the bosom of that sea Thy comings and thy goings be I 115 For gentleness and love and trust Prevail o'er angry wave and gust; And in the wreck of noble lives Something immortal still survives. Analysis. — 97-102. What continuoua figure in these lines. Ntme .be modifiers of shout. 103. Give the Krainmatical construction of fair. 107. Dispose of the word forth. 108. Parse tlie word right. 111-119. What extended figure in these lines? 115. Parse be, comings, and goings. 117. Point out tlie figure in this line. '18. wreck of noble lives. What figure? HENRY WADSWOBTH LONGFELLOW. 331 Thou, too, sail on, Ship of State I 121 Sail oil, O Union strong and great I Humanity with all its fears, With all the hopes of future years, Is hanging breathless on thy fate. We know what master laid thy keel ; 125 What workmen wrought thy ribs of steel ; Who made each mast and sail and rope ; What anvils rang, what hammers beat; In what a forge and what a heat Were shaped the anchors of thy hope. 130 Fear not each sudden sound and shock : 'Tis of the wave, and not the rock ; 'Tis but the flapping of the sail, And not a rent made by the gale. In spite of rock, and tempest's roar, 135 In spite of false lights on the shore. Sail on, nor fear to breast the sea : Our hearts, our hopes, are all with thee ; Our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, Our faith triumphant o'er our fears, 14^ Are all with thee — are all with thee I Anai.ysis. — 120-141. Name the continuous figure running thrcuf(h these lines. 125. thy keel. What figure? V2Q. ribs of gleel. What figure? 127. Point out the figures in this line. 128. Name the figures in this line. 6. JOHN G. WHITTIEK, 1807 -1892. JdiiN Greenleaf Whittikr, sometimes called *' tlie Quaker poet," was born at Haverhill, Massachusetts, on the 17th of December, 1807. His i^arents were members of Ihe Society of Friends. Until his eiiihtecnth year the young poet spent his time at home, working on the farm, writing occasional verses for the Haverhill Gazette, ami assisting during the winter in making shoes. Two years were then spent in attending the village acadeni}', after which he became the editor of a pai:)er in Boston, and his life from that time to the present has been spent in literary pursuits. Whittier's first volume, Legends of Xeiv England, was issued in 1831. It consisted of both poems and prose sketches. Since that time he has written many poems, and also many sketches and tales in prose, but his rep- utation as a writer rests almost whoil}- on his i)oetry. Since the 3'ear 1840, Whittier, who has never married, has lived at Amcsbury, Massachusetts, where most of his work has been done. His writings have been coi- lected from time to time and issued in book-form. His most popular poems are usually short. The fol- lowing may be mentioned as among tlie best: Maud Muller, The Barefoot Boy, Snoioboond, Barbara Frictchie, A Tent on the Beach, My Playmate, Among the Hills, Mabel Martin, Centennial Hymn, and SJcipper Ire^son^s Ride. In prose his princij)al work is Old Borlraits and Modem tiU'tchcs. 3.32 JOHN O. WHITTIER. 333 CKITICIS^I BY GEORGE S. HILLARD. Whittier has written much in prose and verse, and his writings are characterized by earnestness of tone, high moral purpose, and energy of expression. His spirit is that of a sincere and fearless reformer, and ills fervid appeals are the true utterances of a brave and loving heart. The themes of his poetry have been drawn, in a great measure, from the history, tradi- tions, manners, and scenery of New England; and he has found the elements of poetical interest among them without doing any violence to truth. He de- scribes natural scenery correctly and beautifully, and a vein of genuine tenderness runs through his nature. THE BAREFOOT BOY. Blessings on thee, little man, Barefoot boy, with cheek of tan ; With thy turned-up pantaloons, And thy merry whistled tunes ; With thy red lip, redder still 5 Kissed by strawberries on the hill ; With the sunshine on thy face Through thy torn brim's jaunty grace 1 From my heart I give thee joy: I was once a barefoot boy. 10 Prince thou art : the grown-up man Only is republican. AnaIiYSIS. — 1. Parse Blessings and man. 2. Give the case of boy. cheek of tan. What figure t 2-8. Name the modiliers of boy. 4. Dispose of the word merry. 6. What figure in the line? What does the line mcdifyj 8. What does the line modify ? 11. Prince thou art. What is tlie subject? 12. Show the use of the word Only. ?134 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. Let the niilHon-doU.ircd ride: Barefoot, trudging at his side, Thou hast more than he can buy Ifl In the reach of ear and eye — Outward sunshine, inward joy. Blessings on thee, barefoot boy I Oh for boyhood's painless play, Sleep that wakes in laughing day, 10 Health that mocks the doctor's rules. Knowledge never learned of schools, — Of the wild bee's morning chase ; Of the wild-flower's time and place; Flight of fowl, and habitude 25 Of the tenants of the wood ; How the tortoise bears his shell ; How the woodchuck digs his cell ; And the ground-mole sinks his well ; How the robin feeds her young; 30 ' How the oriole's nest is hung ; Where the whitest lilies blow; Where the freshest berries grow ; Where the groundnut trails its vine; Where the wood-grape's clusters shine; 86 Of the black wasp's cunning way, Mason of his walls of clay ; Analysis.— 13. What figure in tlie line? Parse miUion-doUai ed, 14. Give the grammatical construction of Barcjoot. trudging, eta What does the phrase modify? 15. Supply tlie ellipsis after than 15-17. Name tlie modifiers of ha»l 19 Wliat rchition does/o)- exjjreas? 20. Give the case of Sleep. Innr/hinrj daij. What figure? 22-39. Name each of the modifiers of Knoidedgc 21. Point out tlie figure in the line. 24 Explain the line. 25. Why habitude instead of habitation f 33. Give the meiuung of blow as used here. 37. f five the grammatical construction of Mason. JOHN O. WHITTIEB. 33C And the architectural plana Of gray hornet-artisans I For, eschewing books and tasks, M Nature answers all he asks. Hand in hand with her he walks, Face to face with her he talks, Part and parcel of her joy : Blessings on the barefoot boy I 45 Oh for boyhood's time of June, Crowding years in one brief moon When all things I heard or saw, Me, their master, waited fori I was rich in flowers and trees, 50 Humming-birds and honey-bees ; For my sport the squirrel played, Plied the snouted mole his spade; For my taste the blackberry-cone Purpled over hedge and stone; 65 Laughed the brook for my delight Through the day and through the night, Whispering at the garden-wall, Talked with me from fall to fall ; Analysis— 38, 39. What figure? 40. '.renewing, etc. What does tlie phrase modify? 41. Point out the figure in the line. 42. Hand in hand. Parse. 43. Face to face. Parse. 44. Dispose of Part and parcel. 46. Give the grammatical construction of for. 47. Crowding, etc. What does this limit? Point out the flgurt la Uie line. 49. Give the caae of master. 50, 51. Analyze the clause. 53. Write the Ime in prose order. 55. Point out the figure in the line. 56. Laughed the brook. What figure ? 58. What figure in the line? What does the line modify f 59. \Yliat is the meaning of fall here ' 336 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE, Mine the sand-rimmed pickerel pond; 60 Mine the walnut slopes beyond ; Mine, on bending orchard trees, Apples of Hesperides ! Still, as my horizon grew, Larger grew my riches too : W All the world I saw or knew Seemed a complex Chinese toy, Fashioned for a barefoot boy. Oh for festal dainties spread, Like my bowl of milk and bread 70 (Pewter spoon and bowl of wood) On the doorstone gray and rude I O'er me, like a regal tent, Cloudy-riljbed, the sunset bent, Purple-curtained, fringed with gold, 75 Looped in many a wind-swung fold; While for music came the play Of the pied frogs' orchestra, And to light the noisy choir Lit the fly his lamp of fire. 90 I was monarch: pomp and joy Waited on the barefoot boy. Analysis. — 60. Point out the alliteration. V&ne pickerd jxn*. 61. Dispose of Mine. 64. Dispose of Still. Explain the line. 65. Explain tlie force of too. 66. Supply the ellipsis. 67. Parse tlie word toy. 70. Parse Like and bowl. 72. On the doorstone, etc. What doe.'? the phrase modify? 73. Dispose of like and trnl. 73-70. What figure? Name the modifiers of tent. 77. Give the ^nainniatiral construction of While and /or. 78. What is the meaning of ]>ie(lf 79. to li'jht, etc. What does the phrase modify? 80. What fij^Mire in the line? 81. 82. Ih this sentence complex or compound? JOHN G. WHITTIER. 337 Cheerily, then, my little man, Live and laugh, as boyhood can. Though the flinty slopes be hard, 85 Stubble-speared the new-mown sward, Eveiy morn shall lead thee through Fresh baptisms of the dew; Every evening, from thy feet Shall the cool wind kiss the heat: 9U All too soon these feet must hide In the ])rison-cells of pride; Lose the freedom of tlie sod ; Ijike a colt's, for work be shod; Made to tread the mills of toil, 96 Up and down in ceaseless moil, Happy if their track be found Never on forbidden ground ; Happy if they sink not in Quick and treacherous sands of sin. 100 Ah that thou couldst know thy joy Ere it passes, barefoot boy I Analysis. — ?3. What part of speech is Ihenf Give the caae of V>an. 84. Parse as. Complete tlie verb. 85. What figure in the line? 86. Supply tlie verb. 87. Point out the fi<,Mires. 85-88. Analyze the sentence. 89 90. Point out the ligure. 91 What part of speecli is Allf 92 Point out tlie figure in tlie line. 93 Lose. Give the mode and the tense, 94 be shod. In what mode and tense? Parse /iA/ 95. Parse Made. 96. Dispose of Up and dmcn. What is the meaning o( moU f 97. What is the antet-edent of their f 99. Name the antecedent of they. 100. Point out an example of ]>oetic license JOl. that thou, etc. What kind of chiuse? What is the subject? 22 7. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, 1809-1804. Oliver Wendell Holmes, a witty and brilliant writer of both prase and poetry, was born at Cambridge, Massa- chusetts, on the 29th of August, 1809. He was educated partly at Phillips Academy, Exeter, and then graduated at Harvard in 1829. After leaving Harvard he spent a year in the study of law, when he abandoned that pro- fession and chose the profession of medicine instead. During the year 1830, while studying law, he contrib- uted a number of witty poems to 'Flie Collegian, a period- ical published by the undergraduates of Harvard Uni- versity. In 1833, Holmes visited Europe, residing chiefly in Paris, where he pursued his medical studies. On his return to America, in 1836, he took his medical degree at Harvard University, and two years later became Pro- fessor of Anatomy and Pbysiology at Dartmouth Col- lege. He held this position until the time of his mar- riage, in 1840, when he removed to Boston, and there won much success as a practicing piiysician. In 1847 he was made Professor of Anatomy and Physiology in Harvard, a post which he has filled with honor ever since. Dr. Holmes has won distinction not only as a pro- fessional man, but also as a writer on subjects related to his profession. He is, however, best known to the pub- lic by his purely literary productions. His lyrics, such as Old [ronsules. Union and Libert;/, Welcome lo the Nations ?,Zi OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, 389 etc., are not only spirited, but also among the most beautiful in our language; and his humorous poems, including the One-Hoss Shay, Lending an Old Panch-Boivl, My Aunt, The Boys, and many others, are characterized by a vivacious and sparkling wit which makes their drollery irresistible. Dr. Holmes's prose works are written in a vein which proves him to be original not only in thought, but also in expression, and the succession of brilliant pictures with which he entertains the reader fills one with de- light. His principal prose works are The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table, originally contributed to the Atlantic Monthly ; The Professor at the Breakfast- Table; Elsie Venner, a novel ; The Guardian Angel, a novel ; and The Poet at the Breakfast- Table, — all of which have been hailed with delight and enthusiasm. CRITICISM BY JOHN G. WHITTIER. Dr. Holmes has been likened to Thomas Hood ; but there is little in common between them, save the power of combining fancy and sentiment with grotesque droll- ery and humor. Hood, under all his whims and odd- ities, conceals the vehement intensity of a reformer. The iron of the world's wrongs has entered into his soul. There is an undertone of sorrow in his lyrics. His sarcasm, directed against oppression and bigotry, at times betrays the earnestness of one whose own withers have been wrung. Holmes writes simply for the amuse- ment of himself and his readers. He deals only with the vanities, the foibles, and the minor faults of man- kind, good-naturedly and almost sympathizingly sug- gesting excuses for folly, which he tosses about on the horns of his ridicule. Long may he live to make broader the face of our care-ridden generation, and to realize for 340 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. himself the truth of the wise man's declaration, that " A merry heart is a continual feast " 1 THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS. KoTE. — Dr. Holmes has said of this poem, " If you Will remembte* me by the ' Chambered Nautilus,' your memory will be a monument I shal tlxink more of than any bronze or marble." I. This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main, — The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings, 5 And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair. II. Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl, — Wrecked is the ship of jiearl I And every chambered cell, 10 Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell, As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell, Analysis. — 1. Point out the figure in the line. poeU feign. What kind of clause? 2. main. Parse this word. 3. Give the case of bark. 4 Why sweet summer f What figure ? 5 siren smr/.s. Exj)lain the moaning of tliis. 6. Supply the ellipKis. What kind of adjective Is baref 7. What is tlie meaning of sea-mai WILLIAM H. PRESCOTT. 363 geous fiction. To some extent the American historian fell into the error of Robertson in palliating the enor- mous cruelties that marked the career of the Spanish conquerors; but he is more careful in citing his author- ities, in order, as he says, " to put the reader in a pi»si- tion for judging for himself, and thus revising, and, if need be, for reversing, the judgments of the historian." QUEEN ISABELLA. Note. — This extract is taken from the first published of Pres* OOtt's works, The Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella. Her person was of the middle height, and well pro- portioned. She had a clear, fresh complexion, with light-blue eyes and auburn hair — a style of beauty ex- ceedingly rare in Spain. Her features were regular, and universally allowed to be uncommonly handsome. 5 The illusion which attaches to rank, more especially when united with engaging manners, might lead us to suspect some exaggeration in the encomiums so liberally lavished on her; but they would seem to be in a great measure justified by the portraits that remain of her, 10 which combine a faultless symmetry of features with singular sweetness and intelligence of expression. Her manners wore most gracious and pleasing. They were marked by natural dignity and modest reserve, Analysis. — L Substitute another word for person. Ij 2. of the middle height and well proportioned. Should not these two expressions have tlie same construction ? 3. What kind of adjective is lighl-blue ? With what is the word atyU in apposition ? 5. Substitute a word for unlversidhj. Is allowed the best word to express the meaning here? Give synon}'ms for tlie word handfome. 6. which attaches to rank. Reconstruct this expression. 10. the portraits that remain of her. Criticise. 11. which combine, etc. Is the clause restrictive or non-rcntrictive ? 2;i 354 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE- tempered by an affability which flowed from the kind- 14 ness of her disposition. She was the last person to be approached with undue 'familiarity, yet the respect which she imposed was mingled with the strongest feelings of devotion and love. She showed great tact in accommodating herself to the peculiar situation and 20 character of those around her. She appeared in arms at the head of lier troops, and shrank from none of the hardships of war. During the reforms introduced into the religious houses she visited the nunneries in person, taking her needlework with 25 her and passing the day in the society of the inmates. When traveling in Galicia she attired herself in the costume of the country, borrowing for that purpose the jewels and other ornaments of tlie ladies there, and returning them with liberal additions. By this con- 30 descending and captivating deportment, as well as by her higher qualities, she gained an ascendency over her turbulent subjects which no king of Spain could ever boast. She spoke the Castilian with much elegance and cor- 35 rectness. She had an easy fluency of discourse, which, though generally of a serious complexion, was occa- sionally seasoned with agreeable sallies, some of which have passed into proverbs. She was temperate even to abstemiousness in her diet, seldom or never tasting wine, 40 Analysis. — 15. Paree the word tempered, which floxoed, etc. \m thifl restrictive or not? 17, 18. rejtpsel which she impose expenses for herself and family did not exceed the moderate sum of forty ducats. She was equally simple and economical in her apparel. On all public occasions, indeed, she dis- played a royal magnificence, but she had no relish for 45 it in private, and she freely gave away her clothes and jewels as presents to her friends. Naturally of a sedate though cheerful temper, she had little taste for the frivolous amusements which make up so much of a court-life ; and if she encouraged the pres- 50 ence of minstrels and musicians in her palace, it was to wean her young nobility from the coarser and less intel- lectual pleasures to which they were addicted. Among her moral qualities the most conspicuous, perhaps, was her magnanimity. She betrayed nothing little or selfish 55 in thought or action. Her schemes were vast, and exe- cuted in the same noble spirit in which they were con- ceived. She never employed doubtful agents or sinister meas- ures, but the most direct and open policy. She scorned 60 to avail herself of advantages offered by the perfidy of others. Where she had once given her confidence, she gave her hearty and steady support, and she was scru- pulous to redeem any pledge she had made to those who ventured in her cause, however unpopular. She sus- 65 tained Ximencs in all his obnoxious but salutary re- forms. She seconded Columbus in the prosecution of his arduous enterprise, and shielded him from the calumnies of his enemies. She did the same good Analysis. — 41. frugal in her table. What figure? 41, 42. for herxelf and family. Is the jilirase correct? 48. Naturally, etc. Supply the ellii)sis. 53, 54. Is this seutence periodic or loose ? 56, 57. Parse the word executed. 67. Substitute a word for seconded. 356 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. service to her favorite, Gonsalvo de Cordova, and the 70 day of her death was felt — and, as it proved, truly felt — by both as the last of their good-fortune. Artifice and duplicity were so abhorrent to her character, and 6D averse from her domestic policy, that when they appear in the foreign relations of Spain, it is certainly 76 not imputable to her. She was incapable of harboring any petty distrust or latent malice ; and although stern in the execution and exaction of public justice, she made the most generous allowance, and even sometimes ad- vances, to those who had personally injured her. 80 But the principle which gave a peculiar coloring to every feature of Isabella's mind was piety. It shone forth from the very depths of her soul witli a heavenly radiance which illuminated her wliole cliaracter. For- tunately, her earliest years had been passed in the rug- 85 ged school of adversity, under the eye of a mother who implanted in her serious mind such strong principles of religion as nothing in after life had power to shake. At an early age, in the flower of youth and beauty, slie was introduced to her brother's court, but its blandisliments, 90 BO dazzling to a young imagination, had no power over hers, for she was surrounded by a moral atmosphere of purity, driving far oflf each thing of sin and guilt. Such was the decorum of her manners that though encom- passed by false friends and open enemies, not the slights 95 est reproach was l>reathed on her fair name in this cor- rupt and calumnious court. Analysis. — 74. averse from. Substitute a word for avase. 81. a perMliar coloring. What figure? 8!L 8;i shone forth. Dispose o( f>rth. What figure in the line? 83. depclis of her so%U. What figure? 85, 86. rvgged school of adversity. Point out the figure. 89. in the doner of youth and beauty. What liguie? 90. her brother's (vurt. What figure? 10. JOHxN LOTHROP MOTLEY, 1814^1877. J ,^N LoTHROP Motley, one of America's most emi« nent historians, was born at Dorchester, Massachusetts, April 15, 1814. He graduated from Harvard College ia 1831, when he w^^s but seventeen years of age. After graduation he spent three years in Europe preparing for his great work as an author, and then returning to America, was admitted to the bar in 1836. His first published books were Morton's Hope and Merry Mount. issued about the year 1839, both works of some merit, but so greatly inferior to his histories that they are now comparatively forgotten. Motley's first great work was the Rise of the Dutch Re- public. It was published in 1856, in three volumes, its author having devoted fifteen j^ears of study and re- search in the preijaration of the work. The success of this histor}'^ was instantaneous in both England and America. It was translated and published also in Dutch, German, and French. The author was comparatively young and unknown, but it at once establislied his fame as an historical writer of the highest order. In 1865 he pu])lished his History of the Unit&i Nether- lands, from the Death of William the Silent to the Synod f Dort, and in 1874 he added 2'he Life and Death of Banie- veld. Advocate of Holland. Both of these, like his first published history, were written in that brilliant and vigorous style which places him in the foremost rank not only as an historian, but also as a master of pure, strong, eloquent English. 357 358 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURK Mr. Motley filled a number of governmental positions abroad, chief among them that of rainister-j)lenipoten- tiary to Austria from 1861 to 1867, ai:d to England from 1869 to 1870, when, through a change of administration, he was recalled. He was honored with the degree D. G. L. by Oxford, and with the degree LL.D. by the univer- eities of botli Cambridge and New York. After his with- drawal from political life, in 1870, he lived as a private citizen to the time of his death. May 29, 1877. CRITICISM. Motley was one of the moat industrious of authors. The mass of papers which he studied and examined critically at Brussels, Venice, and Paris for the purpose of preparing liimself to write The History of the United Netherlands was enormous, and his great industry mani- fests itself in the excellence with which he did his work. No other writer has brought together such a variety of personages and such a mass, of details into one collective whole, and yet presented all these substantial facts of history with the air of a romance. We follow the fates and fortunes of the various characters with an interest almost equal to that aroused by the best works of fiction. His style is vivid and sparkling, but sometimes his anal- ysis of character is so exliaustive as to lead almost to repetition. In spite of this fault, however, his produc- tions are among the greatest historical works ever written. WILLIAM OF ORANOE. The history of the rise of the Netherland Republic has been at the same time the biography of William the Silent. This, while it gives unity to the narrative, renders an elaborate descri])tion of his character super- Analysis. — 3, 4. What is tne difference between narrcUive and dt- teription f Dispose of guperfiuuiis. JOHN LOTUROP MOTLEY. 359 fluous. That life was a noble Christian eidc, inspired 5 with one great pur]iose from its commencement to its (lose — the stream liowing ever from one fomitain with expanding fullness, but retaining all its original purity. In person, Orange was above the middle height, per- fectly well made and sinewy, but rather spare than 10 ilout. His eyes, hair, beard, and complexion were brown. His head was small; symmetrically ahaped, combining the alertness and compactness characteristic of the soldier with tlie capacious brow furrowed j)rema- turely with the liorizontal lines of thought denoting tlie 15 statesman and the sage. His physical appearance was, therefore, in harmony with his organization, which was of antique model. Of his moral qualities, the most prominent was his piety. He was, more than anytiiing else, a religious man. From his trust in God he ever 2(; derived support and consolation in the darkest hours. Implicitly relying upon Almighty Wisdom and Good- ness, he looked danger in the face with a constant smile, and endured incessant labors and trials with a serenity which seemed more than human. While, however, his 25 Boul was full of piety, it was tolerant of error. Sincere- ly and deliberately himself a convert to the Reformed Church, he was ready to extend freedom of worship to Catholics on one hand and to Anabaptists on the other ; Analysis. — 6. Point out the fif?ure in the line. 9. above the miiUUt hehihl. AS'iiat kind of phrase? 14. furrowed. What tiijiire? 15. denothuj, eic. What does the phrase modify ? 17. in harmimy, etc. What kind of j)iir!Lse? 19. Wliat are the uiodltierfj of promin&ilf 20. Parse ehe. 2C 21. Rewrite the Kciiii'iiiv. 21 Point out the fi<;ure in the line. 2o Dispose of vio/-tj llf.n. 2t), 27. Siiicercli, and deliberately. Wiiat do these words modify 7 360 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. for no man ever felt more keenly than he that the re- 30 former who becomes in his turn a bigot is doubly odious. His firmness was allied to his piety. His constancy in bearing the whole weight of a struggle as unequal as men have ever undertaken was the theme of admira- tion even to his enemies. The rock in the ocean, " Iran- 35 quil amid raging billows," was the favorite emblem by which his friends expressed their sense of his firmness. From the time when, as a hostage in France, he first discovered the plan of Philip to plant the Inquisition in the Netherlands, up to the last moment of his life, 4'. he never faltered in his determination to resist that in- iquitous scheme. This resistance was the labor of his life. To exclude the Inquisition, to maintain the an- cient liberties of his country, was the task which he appointed to himself wlien a youth of three-and-twenty. 45 Never speaking a word concerning a heavenly mission, never deluding himself or others witli the usual phrase- ology of enthusiasts, he accomplished the task through danger, amid toils, and with sacrifices such as few men have ever been able to make on their country's altar ; 50 for the disinterested benevolence of the man was as prominent as his fortitude. A prince of high rank and with royal revenues, ho stripped himself of station, wealth, almost, at times, of the common necessaries of life, and became, in his conn- 66 try's cause, nearly a beggar as well as an outlaw. Nor Analysis.— 30. What is the olyect of fellf 35. Wliat is the force of evcnf 38. Dispotte of when. 39. Give a synonym for planl. What was the Imjumtionf 44. Name the subject of w(in, 46-52. Analyze this j)aragraph. 53. What are the modifiers of hef 56, What does nearly modify? Wiiat is tlie force of Norf JOnis ^OTHROP MOTLEY. 361 was he forced into his career by an accidental impulse from which there was no recovery. Retreat was ever open to liini. Not only pardon, but advancement, was urged upon bim again and again. Officially and pri-GO vatoly, directly and circuitously, liis confiscated estates, together with indefinite and boundless favors in addi- tion, were offered to him on every great occasion On the arrival of Don John, at the Breda negotiations, at the Cologne conferences, we have seen how calmly these 65 offers were waived aside, as if their rejection was so sim- ple tliat it hardly required many words for its significa- tion; yet he had mortgaged his estates so deeply that his heirs hesitated at accepting their inheritance, for fear it should involve them in debt. Ten years after 7- his death the account between his executors and hia brother John amounted to one million four hundred thousand florins due to the count, secured by various })ledges of real and personal property ; and it was final- ly settled upon this basis. He was, besides, largely in- 75 debted to every one of his powerful relatives; so that the payment of the encumbrances upon his estate very nearly justified the fears of his children. While on tlie one hand, therefore, he poured out these enormous sums like water, and firmly refused a hearing to the templing 80 offers of the royal government, upon the other hand he Analysis. — 60. Disj)ose of again and again. 66- Name tlie iiKxliliers of were waived. Parse ait if. 68^ 69. that his heirs, etc. Wliat does tlie clause modify ? 70 should involve. Is should corrtftly used here? 72. Parse uvtounted to. Name llie complex adjective In the \i ie. 73 How much is njlorinf 75 indebted. Parse. 76 so lltal. Parse. 79. Dispose of poured out. 80. like water. ^Vhat fiijurel 3G2 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. proved the disinterested nature of hia services by de- clining, year alter year, the sovereignty over the prov- inces, and by only accepting in the last days of his life, when refusal had become almost impossible, the limited 85 Qmstitutional supremacy over that portion of tliem which LOW makes the realm of his descendants. He lived and died, not for himself, but for his country. ''God pity this poor people 1" were his dying words. His intellectual faculties were various, and of the high- 90 est order. He had the exact, practical, and combining qualities which make the great commander; and his friends claimed that in military genius he was second to no captain in Europe. Tins was, no doubt, an exag- geration of partial attachment; but it is certain that 95 the emperor Charles had an exalted opinion of his capacity for the lield. His fortification of Philippeville and Charlemont in the face of the enemy ; his passage of the Meuse in Alva's sight; his unfortunate but well- ordered campaign against that general; his sublime 100 plan of relief, projected and successfully directed at last from his sick bed, for the besieged city of Leyden, — will always remain monuments of his practical military skill. The supremacy of his political genius was entirely beyond question. He was the first statesman of the 105 ^ age. The c^uickness of his percei>tion was only equaled Analysis. — 83. Dispose of year after year. 84 CrUicLse tlie jM)sitit)n of only. 88 89 VVIiHt iH the mibject of tlie clause? Give the mode of pfty. 9( 91 of l/ie hif/hest order. What kind of ]>hra.se? 95, 9G. il ii certain, etc. What is in apposition with it* 97. Give a synonym for capacity a^j here used. 97-103. Analyze the sentence. 104. What 3-34, he began his career as a lecturer, a position in whicii he has since won great eminence and distinction. In the winter of 1834 he delivered a series of biograpliicMl lec- tures on Michael Angelo, Milton, George Fox, Luther, and Edmund Burke. In 1835 he delivered a series of ten lectures on ICmjlish Literature; in 1830, twelve on the Philosophy oj lUdory ; in 1837, ten on llunian Culture ' in 1838, ten on Human Life; in 1839, ten on TJie PreMid Age; and in 1841, seven on The Times. Among Emerson's prominent books are his orations — Man Thinking, published in 1837 : Litera^v Ethics, pub- 870 RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 371 lished in 1838 — and his Essays, the first series of which appeared in 1841, the second in 1844, tlie tliird in 1870, and the fourth in 1871. In 1846 he published a volume of poems, and in tne year 1848 he delivered a course of lectures in Exeter Hall, London. In the following year he published his Essays on Representative Men, one of his best works, and one of those by which he is most favorably known to the world of letters. It was the publication of his Repre- sentalive Men that gave to him the title " the American Carlyle," because in his selection of characters he re- ceived suggestions from Carlyle's great work, Heroes and Hero- Worship. Emerson removed to Concord, Mas- sachusetts, in 1835, which was his place of residence to the time of his death, April 27, 1882. CEITICISM BY A. BRONSON ALCOTT. Emerson's compositions affect us not as logic linked in syllogisms, but as voluntaries rather — as preludes, in which one is not tied to any design of air, but may vary his key or note at pleasure, as if improvised without any particular scope of argument; each period, paragraph, being a perfect note in itself, however it may chance to chime with its accompaniments in the piece, as a walta of wandering stars, a dance of Hesperus with Orion. His rlietoric dazzles by its circuits, contrasts, antitheses ; imagination as in all sprightly minds, being his wand of power So his books are best read as irregu- lar writings, in which sentiment is, by his enthusi- asm, transfused tliroughout the piece, telling on the mind in cadences of a current under-song, giving the impression of a connected whole, which it seldom is, such is the rluipsodist's cunning in its structure and delivery. 372 STUDIES IN AMFAIICAN LITERATURE. GOETHE. Note. — Tlie following extract is taken from Emerson's Repreaen' tative Men. What distinguishes Goethe for French and English readers is a property which he shares with his nation — an habitual reference to interior truth. In England and in America there is a respect for talent ; and, if it is exerted in support of any ascertained or intelligible interest or 5 party, or in regular opposition to any, the ])u])lic is satisfied. In France there is even a greater delight in intellectual brilliancy, for its own sake. And in all these countries men of talent write from talent. It is enough if the understanding is occupied, the taste propitiated — 10 BO many columns, so many hours, filled in a lively and creditable way. The German intellect wants the French Bprightliness, the fine practical understanding of the English, and the American adventure; but it has a certain probity which never rests in a superficial per- 15 formance, but asks steadily, To what eridf A German public asks for a controlling sincerity. Here is activity of thought; but what is it for? What does the mim mean? Whence, whence all these tlioughts? Analysis. — 1. Parse Wlml. What figure in the line? 2. properly. Give a syn<)nym. 2, 3. Wiiat word is in apposition with properly? 3. interior Irnlh. What is n)eant? 3-7. In England .... sati-sfed. Is tiie sentence periodic or loose? 7, 8. Notice the use of even. Reconstruct this sentence, and make b "^riodic. 9. of talent and from talent. What kind of moditier is each? 9-12. What are the ajipositivcs of It f I'A vdvljf. Wliat is the meaning? Name the objects of wanlt. 16. (live the n)eaning f)f uteiulily. To what endf Write a« a complete clause. 17. public. What is the meaning of public here? JiA^PII WALDO EMJiitSON. 373 Talent alone cannot make a writer. There must be a 20 man behind the book — a personality which, by birtn and quality, is pledged to tlie doctrines there set forth, and V"hich exists to see and state things so, and not other- wise, holding things because they are things. If he can- not rightly express himself to-day, the same things sub- 25 sist, and will open themselves to-morrow. There lies the • burden on his mind — the burden of truth to be declared, more or less understood ; and it constitutes his business and calhng in the world to see those facts through, and to make them his own. What signifies that he trips 30 and stammers, that his voice is harsh or hissing, that his method or his tropes are inadequate? That message will find method and imagery, articulation and melody. Though he were dumb, it would speak. If not, if there be no such God's word in the man — what care we how 35 adroit, how fluent, how brilliant, he is? It makes a great difference to the force of any sen- tence whether there be a man behind it or no. In the learned journal, in the influential newspaper, I discern no form; only some irresponsible shadow; oftener some 40 moneyed corporation, or some dangler, who hopes. Id the mask and robes of his })aragraph, to pass for some- body. But through every clause and part of speech ui Analysis. — 20, 21. Parse alotie. What figure in these lineeJ 23. Dispose of the word so. 24. huldbuj, etc. What does tlie phrase modify? 20-24. Criticise the construction of the sentence. 29. calling. Give a synonym. 30. trips. Ciive the meaning. 84. it would speak. What figure? 88. Is no a proper word here? 88, 39. In the learned journal. What figure? 40. from. Give a synonym. 41.42. Whut figure? 374 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. a right book I meet the eyes of the most determined of men ; his force and terror inundate every word ; the 45 commas and dashes are alive; so that the writing is athletic and nimble — can go far and live long. In England and America one may be an adept in the writings of a Greek or Latin poet without any poetic taste or fire. That a man has spent years on Plato and 50 Proclus does not afford a presumption that he holds heroic opinions or undervalues the fashions of his town. But the German nation have the most ridiculous good faith on these subjects; the student out of the lecture- room still broods on the lessons, and the professor can- 55 not divest himself of the fancy that the truths of phil- osophy have some application to Berlin and Munich. This earnestness enables them to outsee men of much more talent. Hence, almost all the valuable distinctions which are current in higher conversation have been de- 60 rived to us from Germany. But, whilst men distin- guished for wit and learning in England and France adopt their study and their side with a certain levity, and are not understood to be very deeply engaged, from grounds of character, to the topic or the i)art they es- 65 Analysis. — 44. right book. Give an ef|iiivalenL wcl the tyr.t. Is this figurative or literal? 44-47. What figure in these lines ? 45. Name the figure in this line. 49. a Oreek or Latin poel. Criticise. 60. Who was Plulo f 51. W^ho was Proclus f 53. Is nation used here in tlie ahstract or in the concrete? 54, 55. oitl of the lecture-room. Wlial doew the phrase modify F 55 Give the difrerent meanings of broods. 57 For wliiil are Berlin and Munich remarkahle? 68. (iive the meaning of outj/. 78, 79. Point out the figure ii these lines. What does Wanned, etc. modify? 384 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. Everything is upward striving; 'Tis as easy now for the heart to be true As for grass to be green or skies to be blue— 'Tis the natural way of living, 8A Who knows whither the clouds have fled ? In the uuscarred heaven they leave no wake ; And the eyes forget the tears they have shed, The heart forgets its sorrow and ache ; The soul partakes the season's youth, 90 And the sulphurous rifts of passion and woe Lie deep 'neath a silence pure and smooth, Like burned-out craters healed with snow. What wonder if Sir Launfal now Remembered the keeping of his vow? A5 Analysis. — 83. Name the modifier of it. 85. Name the antecedent of it. 87. Give a synonym for wake. 91-93. Point out the figure iu these lines. EXTRACT. 0'*'C'E to every man and nation comes the moment to decide, 111 the strife of Truth with Falsehood, for the good or evil side: Bome great cause, God's new Messiah oll'cring each the bloom or blight. Parts the goats upon the left hand, and the sheep upon the right, Ami the choice goes by for ever 'twixt that darkness and that lighU The Present Oriti*. 14. WASHINGTON IRVING, 1783-1859. Washington Irving, one of the most graceful ana polislied prose-writers of America, was born in New York, April 3, 1783. His ancestors on the father's side were Scotch, his mother being English. At the age of sixteen Irving left school to engage in the study of law, but literature had greater attractions for him, and in 1802 he began a series of papers for the Morning Chronicle under the signature of " Jonathan Old- style," choosing for his themes mainly social topics and local occurrences. Being threatened with consumption in 1804, he went to Europe, and spent several months in Italy and the south of France. At Rome he became intimately ac- quainted with Washington Allston, under whose tuition he made an attempt to become a painter, but three days' experience convinced him that he had not the talent to make him an artist. Having visited Switzerland, the Netherlands, Paris, and London, he returned to the United States in 1806, and was admitted to the bar, but he never practiced his profession. In 1807, in connection with his brother William and James K. Paulding, he began a serial entitled Salma- gxmdi; or, The \V7iim- Whams and Opinions of Laur.celot Langstaff, Eaq., and Others, which was issued at irregular intervals in 18mo form. It was full of personal allu- sions and humorous hits, which gave it immediate success. 2ft 986 386 STUl lES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. Tr/iiig's next literary venture was a History of New York, by Diedrich Knickerbocker. The book was begun by Peter and Washington Irving as a burlesque on a handbook of the city of New York then just published; but the elder brother having sailed to Europe, Washing- ton elaborated the original plan and completed the book himself. In order to introduce it to the public, an ad- vertisement was inserted in the Evening Post a few days before the appearance of the book, inquiring for "a small elderly gentleman, dressed in an old black coat and cocked hat, by the name of Knickerbocker," who was represented as having disappeared from the Co- lumbia Hotel, and left behind " a very curious kind of a written book." The book appeared in 1809, and met at once with a flattering and cordial reception. The style in which it is written somewhat resembles that of Swift. For a time the burlesque is said to have given serious offence to some of the New York fam- ilies whose ancestors were caricatured, and Irving, to appease their wrath, finally inserted an apologetic preface. Being a silent partner in the mercantile house of his brothers, Irving sailed for Europe in 1815. But the house soon became bankrupt, and the author wiua com- pelled to write for a living. Ilis rambles through England and Scotland had furnished him excellent material, and in 1818 the Sketch-Book appeared in the United States in pamphlet numbers. Some of these were co|)ied in the London Literary Gazette, and Irving collected the various sketches and sought a publisher in England to issue them in book-form. Failing in Uiis, he put the first volume to press in 1820 at his own ex- pense, but the failure of the publislier prevented the issue. Sir Walter Scott now succeeded in having Mur- ray, the London publisher, purchase the manuscrij»t for WASHINGTON IRVING. 387 two hundred pounds — a sum which he doubled when the book became successful. The Sketch- Book is consid- ered Irving's best book. It is written in admirable style and in the purest of diction. It has proved to be the favorite work of the author in both England and America. It is the work, indeed, on which Irv- ing's success as an author is based, and from the time of its publication to the present he has never lacked for a wide circle of appreciative readers. The Sketch-Buok was followed in 1822 by Bracehridge Hall ; or, The Humorists, for which the publisher paid one thousand guineas. Two years later The Tales oj a Traveler followed, which Irving sold for fifteen hun- dred pounds. This book met with severe criticism in both Europe and America, but his History of Christopher Columbus, four volumes, ])ublished soon after, and which he sold to the publishers for three thousand guineas, was highly praised, and it restored to the author his popu- larity. The other works of Irving are — Chronicles of the Con- quest of Grenada, two volumes ; Voyages of the Companions of Columbus ; The Alhambra, two volumes, a portion of it written in the old Moorish palace, where Irving stayed several months ; The Crayon Miscellany ; Astoria, two vol- umes ; Adventures of Captain Bonneville of the U. S. A. in the Rocky Mountains and the Far West; Wolfert''s Roost, a series of collected magazine articles; The Life of Oliver Goldsmith ; Mahomet and his Successors, two volumes ; and the Life of Washington, five volumes, the last of which was issued just three months before Irving's death. Much of Irving's life was spent in England, where he and his works were highly esteemed. In 1831 the Uni- versity of Oxford conferred on him the degree LL.D. Besides other positions abroad, he held that of mini»« ter to Spain from 1842 to 1846. 388 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. For several years preceding his death Irving, who was never married, resided near Tarrytown, New York, in an old Dutch mansion which he named " Sunnyside." Here he died suddenly, from a disease of the heart, in 1859. the funeral procession which bore his body to the grave at Tarrytown passing through the historical Sleepy Hol- low which his genius had made famous. CRITICISM BY CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER. I DO not know how to account, on principles of cul- ture which we recognize, for our autlior's style. His education was exceedingl}' defective, nor was his want of discipline su]:)plied by the subsequent desultory ap- plication. He seems to have been born with a rare sense of literary proportion and form ; into this, as into a mould, were run his apparently lazy and really acute observations of life. That he thoroughly mastered such literature as he fancied there is abundant evidence ; that his style was intluenced by the purest English models is also apparent. But there remains a large margin for wonder how, with his want of training, he could have elaborated a style which is distinctively his own, and is as copious, felicitous in the clioice of words, flowing, spontaneous, flexible, engaging, clear, and as little wea- risome whun read continuously in quantity, as any in the English tongue. This is saying a great deal, though it is not claiming for him the compactness, nor tiie re bust vigor, nor the depth of thought, of many other masters in it. It is sometimes praised for its simplici- ty It is certainly lucid, but its simplicity is not that of Benjamin Franklin's style; it is often ornate, not sel- dom somewhat difl'use, and always exceedingly melo- dious. It is noticeable for its metaphorical felicity But it was not in the sympathetic nature of the author WASHINGTON IRVING. 389 to which I just referred, to come sharply to ihe point. It is much to have merited the eulogy of CampbelL that he had "added clarity to -the English tongue." ICHABOD CRANE'S RIDE. Ni/x'E. — The following extract from the Sketch-Book is taken \xm Irviiig^s "Legend of Sleepy Hollow." Sleepy Hollow, as repre- Bcnted by the author, "is a little valley, or rather lap of land, anion.- high bills, which is one of the quietest places in the whole world." It is \rithin a mile or two of Tarrjtown on the Hudson. Ichabod Crane was the schoolmaster of Sleepy Hollow. On the occasion referred to in this extract he had been attending a merry- making at Mynheer Van Tassel's, whose daughter, Katrina, was the object of his afl'ections. But Ichabod had a rival in Brom Van Brunt, who sat gloomily in the corner while the schoolmaster joined Katrina in the dance. Before the breaking up of the party Ichabod had listened to a number of ghost-stories, prominent among them being that of a headless horseman who haunted the bridge over which Ichabod must pass on his homeward route that night. It was the very witching time of night that Ichabod, heavy-hearted and crestfallen, pursued his travels home- ward along the sides of the lofty hills which rise above Tarrytown, and which he had traveled so cheerily in the afternoon. The hour was as dismal as himself. Far 5 below him the Taijjtan Zee spread its dusky and indis- tinct waste of waters, with here and there the tall mast of a sloop riding quietly at anchor under the land. In the dead hush of midnight he could even hear the bn; Ic- ing of the watch-dog from the opposite shore of the 10 Analysis. — 1, 2. Name the modifier of /(. 1 w'tcking time. I]x plain. 2 erestj'allen. What is the figure? 5. What dues /'ar UKxlify? t). dusky. Wliat figure? 9. I'uii I out the tit,'ure in this line. What is the force of ntnf :'.90 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. Hudson, but it was so vague and faint as only to give an idea of Ids distance from this faithful companion of man. Now and then, too, the long-drawn crowing of a cock, accidentally awakened, would sound far, far off from some farm-house away among the hills ; but it was 15 like a dreaming sound in his ear. No signs of life oc- curred near him, but occasionally the melancholy chirp of a cricket, or perhaps the guttural twang of a bull- frog from a neighboring marsh, as if sleeping uncom- fortably and turning suddenly in his bed. 20 All the stories of ghosts and goblins that he had heard in the afternoon now came crowding upon his recollec- tion. The night grew darker and darker; the stars seemed to sink deeper in the sky, and driving clouds occasionally hid them from his sight. He had never 25 felt so lonely and dismal. He was, moreover, approach- ing the very place where many of the scenes of the ghost- stories had been laid. In the centre of the road stood an enormous tulip tree, which towered like a giant above all the other trees of the neighborhood, and formed a 30 kind of landmark. Its limbs were gnarled and fantastic, large enough to form trunks for ordinary trees, twisting down almost to the earth and rising again into the air. It was connected with the tragical story of the unfor- tunate Andr6, who had been taken prisoner hard by, 35 and was universally known by the name of Major An- Analysis. — 13 Par8e too. 14 arcidentalbj nwaJcened. What does this modify? 16 Parwe like and sound. 17 iS. vidancholy chirp. Whatfigiire? Is (waTU^ a good word here f 22 came crowding. Dispose of crowding. 24. to gink deeper. Purse deeper. 29. Wliat figure in the line? 35. hard by. Parse. 36. wiivers'xUy. Is this the proper word as used ? WASHINGTON IRVINQ. 391 clr6's Tree. The common people regarded it wiih a mix- ture of respect and sii})erstition, partly out of sympa- • thy for the fate of its ill-starred namesake, and partly from the tales of strange sights and doleful lamentations 10 told concerning it. As Ichabod approached this fearful tree he began to wliislle. He thought his whistle was answered ; it was but a blast sweeping sharply through the dry branches. As he ai)j)roaehed a little nearer, he thought he saw something whit^ hanging in the midst 45 of the tree. He paused, and ceased whistling; but on looking more narrowly perceived that it was a place where the tree had been scathed by lightning, and the white wood la}-^ bare. Suddenly he heard a groan ; his teeth chattered, and his knees smote against the saddle. 50 It was but the rubbing of one huge bough upon another as they were swayed about by the breeze. He passed the tree in safety, but new perils lay before him. About two hundred yards from the tree a small brook crossed the road, and ran into a marshy and thickly- 55 wooded glen known by tlie name of Wiley's Swamp. A few rough logs, laid side by side, served for a bridge over this stream. On that side of the road where the brook entered the wood a grou}) of oaks and chestnuts, matted thick with wild grapevines, threw a cavernous 6fl Analysis. — 37. Who are meain by Tin comnum peopUt 38. Wliat does parllij inodify ? 40. What figure hi the line? 41, 42. /earful tree. What figure? 43. Dispose of but. 47. Substitute a word for narrowly. 49. Dispose of bare. 54. Parse about. 67. Dispose of nide by mle. 68. Dispose of the word where. 60. Ifiiak. Is the word correct as used here? S02 STUniJ^S IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. gloom over it. To pasf? tliis bridge was the severest trial. It was at tliis identical spot that the unfortunate Andr^ was captured, and under the covert of those chestnuts and vines were the sturdy yeomen concealed who sur- prised him. This has ever since been considered a 63 liaunted stream, and fearful are the feelings of the srhool-boy who has to pass it alone after dark. As he approached the stream his heart began to tnump. lie summoned up, however, all his resolu- tion, gave his horse half a score of kicks in the ribs, 70 and attempted to dash briskly across the bridge. But instead of starting forward, the perverse old animal made a lateral movement and ran broadside against the fence. Ichabod, whose fears increased with the delay, jerked the reins on the other side and kicked 75 lustily with the contrary foot. It was all in vain. His Bteed started, it is true, but it was only to plunge to the opposite side of the road into a thicket of brambles and alder-bushes. The schoolmaster now bestowed both whip and heel upon the starveling ribs of old 80 Gunpowder, who dashed forward, snuffling and snort- ing, but came to a stand just by the bridge, with a suddenness which had nearly sent his rider sprawling over his head. Just at this moment a plashy tramp by Analysis. — 61. What figure in the line? Criticise the sentence boginning to pass this bridcje, etc. What is the sulyect of tlie clause? 64. sturdy yeomen. AV ho were they? 64, 65. Point out a violation of strengtli in these lines. 69. Substitute a word for thump. 73. What is meant hy a latend movement f 7: Huhstitute a word for contrary as here used What is the antecedent of /( f 77. it is true. What is in ai)i)osition with Uf 80. Point out the figure in tlie line. 83. had .... sent. Criticise. 84. What does just njof to biiL 23. Axvay with ye I I)isjiose of these wurds. 28. Name tlie object of hoped. 32, .33. Explain the.se lines. 36. Point out the object o*" cr'oL JAMES FENUIORE COOPER. 401 first timber of the Ariel laid, and shall live j'lst long enough to see it turn out of her bottom ; after which I wish to live no longer." But his shipmates were swept far beyond the sounds -10 of his voice before half these words were uttered. All command of the boat was rendered impossible by the numbers it contained, as well as the raging of the s irf ; and as it rose on the white crest of a wave Tom saw his beloved little craft for the last time. It fell into a trough 45 of the sea ; and in a few moments more its fragments were ground into splinters on the adjacent rocks. The coxswain still remained where he liad cast ofi' the rope, and beheld the numerous heads and arms that appeared rising at short intervals on the waves — some making 50 powerful and well-directed efforts to gain the sands, that were becoming visible as the tide fell, and others wildly tossed in the frantic movements of helpless de- spair. The honest old seaman gave a cry of joy as he saw Barnstable issue from the surf bearing the form of 55 Merry in safety to the sands, where, one by one, several seamen soon appeared also, dripping and exhausted. Many others of the crew were carried in a similar manner to places of safety, though, as Tom returned to his seat on tlie bowsprit, he could not conceal from 60 his reluctant eyes the lifeless forms that were, in other spots, driven against the rocks with a fury that soon left tliem but few of the outward vestiges of humanity. Dillon and the coxswain were now the sole occupants of their dreadful station. The former stood in a kiQd65 Analysis. — 40. What does far modify? 41. Is vjere uttered correct aji used here? 4.3. Give the case of ragimj. What tijjure in the line? 45. Give a synonym for craft. 45, 46. trough of the sea. Wliat figure ? 61. reluctant eyes. What fif^ure? 26 402 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE of stupid despair, a witness of the scene we liave related ; but as his curdled blood began again to flow more warmly through his heart he crept close to tlie side of Tom with that sort of selfish feeling that makes even hoiDclesa misery more tolerable when endured in participation 7^ with another. " When the tide falls," lie said in a voice that betrayed the agony of fear, though his words expressed the re- newal of hope, *' we shall be able to walk to land." " There was One, and onl}' One, to whose feet the waters 75 were the same as a dry deck," returned the coxswain ; " and none but such as have His power will ever he able to walk from these rocks to the sands." The old seaman paused, and turning his eyes, which exhibited a mingled expression of disgust and compassion, on his companion, 80 he added, with reverence, "Had you thought more of Him in fair weather, your case would be less to be pitied in this tempest." "Do you still think there is much danger?" asked Dillon. 85 " To them that have reason to fear death. Listen ! Do you hear that hollow noise beneath ye?" " 'Tis the wind driving by the vessel." " 'Tis the poor thing herself," said the affected cox- swain, "giving her last groans. The water is breaking M upon her decks, and in a few minutes more the hand- Bomest model that ever cut a wave will be like the chips thai fell from her in framing." Analysis. — 66. In what case is wUrvMf 68. What does the wurd cIokc modify? 72-74. Analyze tliis sentence. 7.S-77. What fiRiire? 77. How are such and (w used ? 89. Name the antecedent of thing. 90-93. What azures in '.licse line*,? JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 403 " ^^^ly, then, did you remain here ?" cried Dillon wildly. 95 " To die in my coffin, if it should be ih© will of God," returned Tom. " These waves are to me what the land is to you : I was born on them, and I have always meant that they shall be my grave." " But — I — I," shrieked Dillon, " I am not ready to 100 die! — I cannot die! — I will not die!" " Poor wretch !" muttered his companion, " you must go like the rest of us ; when the death-watch is called, none can skulk from the muster." " I can swim," Dillon continued, rushing with frantic 105 eagerness to the side of the wreck. " Is there no billet of wood, no rope, that I can take with me?" " None ; everything has been cut away or carried ofif by the sea. If you are about to strive for your life, take with you a stout heart and a clean conscience, and trust 110 the rest to God." " God !" echoed Dillon in the madness of his frenzy. " I know no God ; there is no God that knows me I" "Peace!" said the deep tones of the coxswain, in a voice that seemed to speak in the elements ; " bias- 115 phemer, peace I" The heavy groaning produced by the water in the timbers of the Ariel at that moment added its impulse to the raging feelings of Dillon, and he cast himself headlong into the sea. The water, thrown by the roll- 120 ing of the surf on the beach, was necessarily returned to the ocean in eddies, in different places favorable to Buch an action of the element. Into the edge of one ol these counter-currents, that was produced by the Analysis. — 103. Parse like and rest. 103, 104. Point out the figure. 109. about to strive, etc. This is a prepositional phrase-aftribate. 116. In what case is peace/ 404 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. very rocks on which the schooner lay, and wliich the IZ'i watermen call the " under-tow," Dillon had unknow- ingly thrown his person ; and when the waves had driven him a short distance from the wreck, he was met by a stream that his most des})crato efforts could not overcome. He was a light and i)owerful swimmer, 130 and the struggle was hard and })rotracted. With the shore immediately before his e3'es and at no great dis- tance, he was led, as by a false phantom, to continue his efforts, although they did not advance him a foot. The old seaman, who at first had watched his motions with 135 careless indifference, understood the danger of his situa- tion at a glance, and, forgetful of his own fate, he shouted aloud, in a voice that was driven over the struggling victim to the ears of his shipmates on the sands, *' Sheer to port, and clear the under-tovv I Sheer to 140 the southward 1" Dillon heard the sounds, but his foculties were too much obscured by terror to distinguish their object: he, however, blindly yielded to the call, and gradually changed his direction until his face was once more 145 turned toward the vessel. The current swept him diagonally by the rocks, and he was forced into an eddy where he had nothing to contend against ]>ut the waves, whose violence was nmch ])roken by the wreck. In this state he continued still to struggle, but 150 with a force that was too much weakened to overcome the resistance he met. Tom looked around him for a rope, but not one presented itself to his hands ; all had gone over with the 8])ars or been swept away by the waves. At this moment of disa])pointment his eyes 155 met those of the desperate Dillon. Calm and inured to horrors aa was the veteran seaman, he involuntarily Analyhis. — 137. Name the modiCiers of Hlmuted. JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 405 passed his hand before his brow as if to excluile the look of despair he encountered ; and when, a moment afterward, he removed the rigid member, he beheld the 160 sinking form of the victim as it gradually settled in the ocean, still struggling with regular but impotent strokes of the arms and feet to gain the wreck and to preserve an existence that had been so much abused in its hour of allotted probation. "He will soon know his God, 165 and learn that his God knows him," murmured the coxswain to himself As he yet spoke the wreck of the Ariel yielded to an overwhelming sea, and after a universal shudder her timbers and planks gave way, and were swept toward the cliffs, bearing the body of 170 the simple-hearted coxswain among the ruins. Analysis. — 158. Dispose of as if. 161. the victim. AVlio is meant? 168. overwhelming sea. What figure? 169. univerml shudder. Criticise. Point out the figure in the line 171. simple-hearted. Wliat figure' 16. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE, 1804-1864. Nathaniel HAWinoRNE, an American novelist of rare meiit, was born in Salem, Massachusetts, July 4, 1804. He entered Bowdoin College, Maine, and graduated in 1825 in the same class with the poet Longfellow. Ex- President Franklin Pierce, who was a member of the class of 1824, was his intimate personal friend. After quitting college, Hawthorne resided many years in Salem, leading a life of solitude, meditation, and study. It is said he secluded himself even from his own family, walking out alone at night, and spending the days in writing wild and fanciful tales, most of which he burned, but some of which were printed ia the periodicals of the day. His first literary venture was a romance entitled Fan- shaive, which was published anonymously in 1828. Haw- thorne, however, never acknowledged its authorsliip, and it was never reprinted. His first successful work was a collection of tales which he selected from his previously pubhshed sketches in the various periodicals, called Twice-Told Tales. Longfellow spoke of it in the North American Review in high praise, but it at first did not attract much attention from the pul)lic Gradually, however, it won its way to favor, and in 1842 a new edition was issued. In 1838, Hawthorne was appointed a weigher and gauger in the custom-house at Salem by the historian Bancroft, who was then surveyor of the port, and he held this position until tlie Presidency of Harrison in 406 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 4C7 1841, when he was removed. He then lived for a time at Brook Farm, being one of the founders of the com- munity, but soon removed to Boston, where lie married Miss Sophia Peabody, and then took up his residence in th- old manse at Concord, where he wrote Mosses from an Old Manse, published in 1846. Ir this same year Mr. Hawthorne was appointed sur- \eyor of the port of Saleiii, and, removing thither, he held the position for three years. His next novel, and the most powerful and popular he ever wrote, TTie Scar- let Letter, was pul)lished in the year 1850. This story gave its author a widespread reputation on both sides of the Atlantic. The next year he published The House of Seven Gables, and in 1852 The BUthedale liomance. During this same year he returned to Concord, but the next year his friend President Pierce appointed him consul at I>iverpool, a post which he held until 1857, when he resigned and spent two years in travel through France and Italy. On his return to the United States in 1860 he published Tlie Marble Faun,\)y many thouglit to be his best romance. In addition to the above-men- tioned works he published True Stories from History and Biography, The Wonder-Book for Boys and Girh, Tanyle- ivood Tales, Our Old Home, and others. Hawthorne lived quietly at liis Concord home from 1860 to 1864, when he set out on a journey through New Hampshire with his friend ex-President Pierce. Having reached a hotel at Plymouth, he stopped for the night, and was found dead in his bed on the fol- lowing morning, May 19, 1864. CRITICISM BY R. H. STODDARD. The writings of Hawthorne are marked by subtle imagination, conscious power of analysis, ard exquisite 408 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. diction. He studied exceptional developments of cha meter, and was fond of exploring secret crypts of emo- tion. His shorter stories are remarkable for originality and suggestiveness, and his larger ones are as absolute creations as Hamlet or IhnUne. Lacking the accomplish- ment of verse, he was in the highest sense a poet. His work is pervaded by manly personality and by almost feminint delicacy and gentleness. He inherited the gravity of his Puritan ancestors, witliout their super- stition, and learned in his solitary meditations a know- ledge of the night-side of life which would have filled them with suspicion. A i)rofound anatomist of tlie heart, he was singularly free from morbidness, and in his darkest speculations concerning evil was robustly right-minded. He worshiped conscience with his in- tellectual as well as his moral nature ; it is supreme in all he wrote. Besides these mental traits, he possessed the literary quality of style — a grace, a charm, a per- fection of language, which no other American writer ever possessed in the same degree, and which places him among the great masters of English prose. THE OLD MANSE. Note. — The following extract, which is a part of Hawthorne's de- Bcription of his home at Concord, is taken from Mosses from an Old Manse. Tlie manse was locateillac, in the ante-chapel of Trinity College, will give distinctness to the conceptions formed of him by hundreds and thou- sands of ardent youthful spirits, filled with reverence for 55 that transcendent intellect which, from the phenomena that fall within our limited vision, deduced the imperial law by which the Sovereign Mind rules the entire uni- verse. We can never look on the i)erson of Wasiiing- ton, but his serene and noble countenance, perpetuated 60 b}'' the pencil and the chisel, is familiar to far greater multitudes than ever stood in his living presence, and will be thus familiar to the latest generation. What parent, as he conducts his son to Mount Auburn dr to Bunker Hill, will not, as he passes before their 65 iMonumental statues, seek to heighten liis reverence for virtue, for patriotism, for science, for learning, for devo- tion to the public good, as he bids him contempl.ate tlie form of that grave and venerable Winthrop who left his pleasant home in England to come and found a new re- 70 public in this untrodden wilderness; of that ardent and intrepid Otis who first struck out the spark of American 448 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. indei)erKlence ; of that noble Adams, its most eloquent cham])iou on the floor of Congress ; of that martyr, \V^ar- ren, who laid down his life in its defence; of tliat self- 7S taught Bowditch, who, without a guide, threaded the etarry mazes of the heavens ; of that Story, honored at home and al)road as one of the brightest luminaries of the law, and, by a felicity of which I believe there is no other exain})le, admirably portrayed in marble by his 80 Bon? What citizen of Boston, as he accompanies the stranger around our streets — guiding him through our busy thoroughfares, to our wharves crowded with vessels which range every sea and gatlier the i)roduce of every 85 climate, up to the dome of tliis capitol, which com- mands as lovely a hmdscape as can delight the eye or gladden the heart — will not, as he calls his attention at last to the statues of Franklin and ^^''ebster, exclaim, " Boston takes pride in her natural position, she rejoices 90 in her beautiful environs, she is grateful for her material prosperity; but, richer than the merchandise stored in palatial warehouses, greener than the slopes of seagirt islets, lovelier than this encircling panorama of land and sea, of field and hamlet, of lake and stream, of garden 95 and grove, is the memory of her sons, native and adopted ■ — the character, services, and fjinie of those who have benefited and adorned their day and generation. Our cl)ildrcn and tlie schools at which they are trained, our citizens and the services they have rendered, — these are 100 our jewels, these our abiding treasures." Yes, your long rows of (juarried granite may crumble to the dust; tiie corn-fields in yonder villages, ripening to the sickle, may, like the plains of stricken Lombardy a few weeks ago, be kneaded into bloody clods by the 105 madding wheels of artillery; tbis populous city, like tlie old cities of Etruria and Campagna Romagna, may CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITERS. 44y be desolated by tlie pestilence which Avalketh in dark- Pxcss, may decay with the lapse of time, and the busy mart, which now rings with the joyous din of trade, 110 become as lonely and still as Carthage or Tyre, as Baby- lon or Ninevcji, but the names of the great and good eliall survive the desolation and the ruin; the memory of the wise, the brave, the patriotic, shall never perish. Yes, S]>arta is a wheat-field; a Bavarian prince holds 115 court at the foot of the Acropolis; the traveling virtuoso digs for marble in the Roman Forum and beneath the ruins of the temple of Jupiter Capitolinus; but Lyour- gus and Leonidas, and Miltiades and Demosthenes, and Cato and Tully, " still live ;" and he still lives, and all 120 the great and good shall live in the heart of ages while marble and bronze shall endure ; and when marble and bronze have perished they shall " still live " in memory 80 long as men shall reverence law and honor patriotism and love liberty ! I2f CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITERS. POETS. Richard H. Dana (1787-1879).— Editor of the North American Review. Educated at Harvard, Author of The Buccaneer and Poer/i'< and Prn^e Writings. John Pierpont (1785-18()6). — A clergyman. Educated at Yale. Was also a merchant. Wrote -4 (Vs of Palestine, Passing A way, £ Pliiribus Unum, etc. James G. Percival (1795-1856). — A surveyor and eminent linguist. Assisted in the preparation of Webster^s Dictionarij. Author of Clio, three vohimes of miscellanies, and the poems Prometlieus, To Seneca Lake, antl others. Lydia H. Sigourney (1791-18(55).— Called " the Mrs. Jleniana of America." Was both a poet and a prose-writer. Autlior of Letters to Young Ladies, Letters to viy Pujnls, and many other works, both prose and poetry. 29 450 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. Charles Sprague (1791-1875). — Both a poet and a banker. Educated at the Franklin School, Boston. Author of an OdA oil Shakespeare, Curiosity, The Winged Worshipers, etc. John Howard Payne (1792-1852). — An actor and dramatist. A.uth()r of Brutus and other dramas. Wrote " Home, Sweet llome." George P. Morris (1801-1864). — A journalist and poet. Ed- itor of the Home Journal. An excellent writer of songs. Au- thor of 311/ Mother's Bible, Wood7nan, Spare that Tree, etc. George D. Prentice (1802-18G9).— Editor of the Louisville Journal. Educated at Brown University. Noted for the wit and satire, as well as the power, of his editorials. Author of Tlie Flight of Years and many shorter poems. Charles Fenno Hoffman (1806-1884).— Both lawyer and poet. Educated at Columbia College. Wrote also prose. Author of Wild Scenes in the Forest and the Prairie and Tlie Vigil of Faith and Other Poems. William Gilmore Simms (1806-1870). — Novelist, historian, and poet. Practiced law for a time, and then became an editor. Au- thor of The Partisan, The Yemassee. History of South Carolina, Life of Marion, etc. ; also Atlantis, Lays of Palmetto, and other poems. Edgar A. Poe (1809-1849).— A brilliant but eVratic genius. A native of Baltimore. Author of the poems TTie Raven, An- nabel Lee, The Belk, and some weird romances: The Fall of the House of Usher, The Gold Bug, The Murders of the Rue Morgue, and others. Alfred B. Street (1811-1881).— A lawyer at Albany. A de- scriptive poet. Author of Frontenac, The Gray Forest Eagle, and other poems. Wrote also Forest Pictures in the Adirondack* and other prose works. Frances S. Osgood, formerly Afiss Locke (1812-1850). — A 'il lior of A Wreath of Wild Flowers from Nexv England and other poems. John G. Saxe (1816-1887).— A celebrated humorous poet. Educated at Middlebury College. Was a lawyer. Wrote many excellent })oems. Autlior of The Rriefiess liarr'iste". The Proud Miss Mac Bride, Pyramus and Thisbc, Rhyme on the Rail^ and many similar poems. CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITERS. 451 Mrs. Amelia B. Welby (1819-1852).— A graceful writer upon themes in domestic life and natural emotions. Author of Poems by Amelia. Alice Gary (1820-1871). — One of America's best female poets. Author of Thanksgiving, Pictures of Memory, Tlie Bridal Veil, An Order for a Picture, Tlie Poet to the Painter, and other poems, together with several prose works : Married and Mated, Clover- nook, Pictures of Country Life, etc. Thomas Buchanan Read (1822-1872). — Both a poet and an artist. Spent much of his life in Italy. Wrote The New Pas- toral, The Wagoner of the Alleghanies, The House by the Sea, Drifting, Sherida/i^s Ride, etc. George H. Boker (1824-1890). — A lyric and dramatic poet. Was United States minister to Turkey and Russia. Wrote Calaynos, Anne Boleyn, and other dramas ; also, The Ivory- Carver, The Black Regiment, The Ballad of Sir John Franklin, and other poems. John T. Trowbridge (1827 ). — A novelist and poet. Very popular in both dej)artments of literature. Author of Neighbor Jackwood, Lawrence^ s Adventures, Coupon Bonds, etc. Among his most popular poems are The Vagabonds, The Charcoal-Man, and Farmer John. Paul H. Hayne (1831-1886).— An editor and poet. His works consist mostly of short poems. Wrote The Temptation of Ve- nus, a volume entitled Avolio; also, one entitled Legends and Lyrics. Phoebe Gary (1825-1871).— Sister of Alice Gary. Her style was more buoyant than tliat of her sister. Wrote Poems and Parodies; Poems of Faith, Hope, and Love; Hymns for All Chris- tians, etc. E. C. Stedman (1833 ).— Banker, poet, and critic. Wrote 77ie Doorstep, Pan in Wall Street, John Brown of Ossawatomie, Alice of Monmouth, and a volume entitleil The Victorian Poets, etc. Mrs. Celia Thaxler ( 1 835-1 8<)4).— An excellent writer of both prose and poetry. Author ot The Little Sandpiper, The Wreck 9f the Pocahontas, Before Sunrise, The Burgomaster Gull, and Diany other short poenis. Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1830 ). — A lyric poet and nov- 452 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. eiist. Wrote Babie Bell, The Face against the Pane, Friar ,/eroi)u'$ Beautiful Book, and other poems ; also, The Stonj of a Bad Boy, Mnrjoiii Daw and Other People, and Prudence Palfrey. Francis Bret Harte (1839-11*03). — A writer of both poetry and prose. A journalist. For a time editor of The Overland Monthly. Wrote The Heathen Chinee, The Luck of Roaring Cninp, etc. Richard Henry Stoddard (1825 ). — A poet and magazine- writer. Author of seiveral volumes of poetry and prose. Wrote Burial of Liricoln, The Burden of Unrest, On the Town, etc. John Hay (1X41 ). — Lawyer, editor, and poet. Educated at Brown University. Wrote Pike County Ballads, Castilian Days, etc. Joaquin Miller (Cincinnatus Heine Miller), (1841 ). — A writer of extravagant and unnatural poems. Author of Songs of the Sierras, The Ship in the Desert, Songs of the Sun- iMnds, etc. Lucy Larcom (1826-1893). — An excellent poet. Was a mill- hand for a time, then a teacher in both IMassachusetts and Illinois. Edited Our Young Folks. Author of Similitudes, Breath- ings of a Better Life, Childhood Songs, Idyl of Work, lioadside Poems, etc. PROSE-WRITERS. 1. Historians and Biographers : Jared Sparks (1794-1866). — A biographer. Editor (A Ameri- can Biograjihy, twenty-five volumes, and author of Life of Wash- ington, Life of Franklin, etc. Charles E. A. Gayarre (1805-1895).— An historian. Educated at New Orleans College. Author of History of Louisiana, Ro- mance of the History of Louisiana, Spanish Domination in Jjouit- iana. S. Austin Allibone, LL.D. (1816-1889).— An American bibli ographer. Author of Dictionary of Authors, Poetical Quotations, I^ose Quotations. Jacob Abbott (1803-1880).— A pojiuhir autluir of juvenile works. l'Mii(;ati'd at IJowdoin College. Author of The Hollo Bookf, The Lucy Books, The Franconian Stories; also, a series of biograj)hie8, including Cyrus the Great, Xer.ies, Julius Ca- tat, etc. CONTEMPORANEOUS WRITERS. 453 John S. C. Abbott (1805-1877).— A Congregational clergy- man. Educated at Bowdoin College. Author of History of Napoleon Bonaparte ; also, a series of biographies on Josephine, Maria Ijouisa, Louis Philippe, Nicholas, etc. James Parton (1822-1891). — Born in England. A writer of great industry. Author of Life of Horace Greeley, Life of Aaron Burr, Life of Andrew Jackson, Life of Thomas Jefferson, etc. Francis Parkman (1823-1893). — A brilliant historian. Edu- catcii at Harvard. Author of The Conspiracy of Fontiac, The Jesuits in America, TJie Discovery of (he Great West, The Pioneers of France in the Neio World, etc. Benson J. Lossing (1813-1891). — An editor and engravei;. Author of Pictorial Field- Book of the Revolution, History of the United States, History of the War of 1812, Pictorial History of the Civil War, etc. Richard Hildreth (1807-1865).— A lawyer and. editor. Edu- cated at Harvard. Author of a History of the United States, six volume.'!. John G. Shea, LL.D. (1824-1892).— Author of The Catholie Church in the United States, I^egendary History of Ireland, etc. Also translator and editor of many works. 2. Writers of Fiction : Mrs. Catharine M. Sedgwick (1789-1867).— Author of Hope Leslie, Redwood, The Poor Rich Alan and the Rich Poor Man, and other tales. John P. Kennedy (1795-1870). — A lawyer. Secretarj' of the Navy under Pllliiiore. Became provost of the University of Maryland. Author of Quodlibet, Swallow Barn, Horse-Shoe Rob- inson, Rob of the Bowl, etc. Mrs. Lydia Maria Child (1802-1880).— A popular writer of many novels and miscellaneous books. Author of Philothea, The Frvyal Housewife, The J\fothcr's Book, Biographies of Good Wives, Life of Afadnme de Stnl''l, Life of Madame Roland, etc. Mrs. Emily Judson (1817-1854). — A teacher from the age of fourteen to the age of twenty-three. Wrote under the nom-de- plume " Fanny Forester." Author of Alderbrook, The Kathayan Slave, My Tivo Sisters, etc. Harriet BeeoherStowe (181 2-189G).— Daughter of Rev. Lyman 454 STUDIES IN AMERICAN LITERATURE. Beecher, wife of Prof Calvin E. Stowe. Her best-known hook is Uncle Tom's Cabin. Wrote also Oldtown Folks, Pink and Wliite Tyninnij, etc. John Esten Cooke (1830-1886).— A Southern novelist and biographer. A lawyer by profession. Author of The Virginia Comedians, Henry St. John, Surrey of Eaglets Nest, Hilt to Hilt, JIammtr and Rapier, etc. ; also, biographies of Stonewall Jack- son and General Eohert E. Lee. Edward Everett Hale (1822 ). — A Unitarian clergyman. Educated at Harvard. Author of The Man Without a Country, If, Y''s, and Perhaps, Tlie Ingham Papers, Ten Times One is Ten, and many other novels. T. S. Arthur (1809-1885).— For many years an editor. Wrote Ten Nights in a Bar-room, Sketches of Life and Character, Lights and Shadows of Real IJfe, and many other works of a domestic character. Richard Henry Dana, Jr. (1815-1882).— Son of R. H. Dana, the poet. Educated at Harvard. Author of Two Years before the Mast, etc. Mrs. Sara J. LippincottC Grace Greenwood"), (1823-1 9041.— A graceful writer of sketches. Wrote Greemvood Leaves, Hnpt and Mishaps of a Tour in Europe, Merrie England, History of My Pets, a volume of poems, etc. Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney (1824 ).— Popular both as a nov- elist and a poet. Author of Mother Goose for Grown Folks, Faith Gartney's Girlhood, A Summer in Leslie Goldlhwaite!' s Life, We Girl's, etc. Miss Louisa M. Alcott (1832-1888).— A popular writer of stories. Autlior of Ho.y)ital Sketches, Little Worncn, An Old- Fashioned Girl, Little Men, etc. Seba Smith ("Major Jack Downing"), (1792-1868).— An editor by profession. Wrote many articles in the Yankee dialect. Autlior of Powhattan, Down East, New Elements of Geometry, etc. Mrs. Louise Chandler Moulton (1835 ). — Began contrib- uting to periodicals in her fifteenth year. Wrote Thi.