UC-NRLF $B 113 I ; III iiili I i iiiiiiHinini jiHii it mm \m\\¥m ■ tliiiii LIBRARY University of California, Class S4- Digitized by the Internet Arcinive in 2007 witii funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation littp://www.archive.org/details/americanliteratuOOsearrich American Literature In the Colonial and National Periods 232 ^6^ ^^^^ ^utfjor. THE HISTORY OF ORATORY FROM THE AGE OF PERICLES TO THE PRESENT TIME. THE OCCASIONAL ADDRESS: ITS COMPOSITION AND LITERATURE. A STUDY IN DEMON- STRATIVE ORATORY. PRINCIPLES AND METHODS OF LITERARY CRIT- ICISM. SEVEN NATURAL LAWS OF LITERARY COM- POSITION. MAKERS OF AMERICAN LITERATURE. American Literature in the Colonial and National Periods BY LORENZO SEARS, L.H.D. Professor in Bronvn Uni'uersity SECOND EDITION Boston Little, Brown, and Company 1905 Copyrighty iSQQy IQOO, By E. Benjamin Andrews. Copyright^ igo2. By Little, Brown, and Company. All rights reserved Published October, 1902 Tkb Univbrsity Pkbss, Cambridgb, Mass., U. S. A. INSCRIBED WITH GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE TO WILLIAM JEWETT TUCKER, D.D., LL.D, President of Dartmouth College Preface The division of the subject made in the title seems warranted by the difference between ideas which pre- vailed in the first century and three-quarters and those in the remainder of the three centuries, almost, during which English-speaking people have lived and written in this country. In the first period the manner of life and thought was that of British colonists ; in the last, that of American citizens. The transition was not immediate in letters, as it was not in politics, but the quarter- century during which independence was first devised and declared, and then won and acknowledged, contained a point where the dividing line may be drawn between two diverse literary periods. For convenience, 1783, the date of the Paris treaty, may serve as well as any. Further division has not been deemed essential to the present purpose. This purpose is to indicate, by mention of leading authors and their works, the growth of letters in Amer- ica, from such efforts as the earliest English immigrants were able to make, with the attainments they brought from home, down to achievements by citizens of a nation old enough to have a literature of its own, however much it may be indebted to treasures in other lands. ;joi./y Vlll Preface To make this development apparent, space has been given to representative authors rather than to enumera- tion of all who have contributed to the total production of the two periods. Care has been taken to make selec- tions which exemplify, as well as their brevity will permit, the writers' manner and method, and that illustrate the spirit of the time and place in which they were written or of which they discourse. L. S. August, 1902. Contents THE COLONIAL PERIOD Faob I. Introductory 3 The Colonial Renaissance — Colonial writings — Represent British ideas — And English liberty — Narrowing influences — Length of colonial and na- tional periods. II. John Smith and Company 10 Jamestown — Smith as a soldier of fortune — As a writer Of romancing turn — Other writers in the company — Their writings. III. Plymouth Diarists 20 Northern colonists — Simplicity of early writings — William Bradford's History — Edward Winslow — His journal. IV. Three Bay Men 29 Thomas Morton — His "New English Canaan " — John Winthrop — His " History of New England ** — Edward Johnson — His " Wonder- Working Provi- dence *' — Diverse views. V. Controversy and Verse 43 Interpretations of freedom and liberty — Roger Williams — His « Bloudy Tenent" —John Cotton's "Bloudy Tenent Washed" — Nathaniel Ward — His " Simple Cobler of Agawam " — Eulogy — Psalmody — "Bay Psalm Book" — Anne Bradstreet — Michael Wigglesworth — "The Day of Doom." VI. Sewall's Diary and Mather's "Magnalia" . 57 Sundry books of the time — Sewall's "Diary" — The Mathers — Cotton Mather's "Magnalia." X Contents Pagb VII. Books of Travel 71 Crossing the century line — Publications of the day — Colonists make excursions — Madam Knight to New York — Wolley and Keith — In the South, John Lawson — Ebenezer Cook — Robert Beverly's "History of Virginia." VIII. Essays, Newspapers, and Almanacs 80 Jeremiah Dummer — His "Letter to a Noble Lord" and " Defense of New England " — John Wise — His "Churches' Quarrel Exposed " — Contemporary Writings — Early newspapers — The almanac — As a literature primer. IX. Transition — Edwards and Franklin .... 91 Jonathan Edwards — His writings — "Freedom of the Will " — Benjamin FrankUn — The Press — Franklin's service to his countrymen — As a writer — The first public library — His "Autobiography " — Other works. X. Three Historians and a Poet 104 Liberal tendencies — Thomas Prince — William Stith — William Smith — Thomas Hutchinson — His "History of Massachusetts " — Mather Byles — His verse. XI. Remonstrant Writers 116 Separation and association — Political discussion — Pamphlets — James Otis and others — Loyalist writ- ers — Samuel Adams — JosiahQuincy — John Dickin- son — His " Farmer's Letters ' ' — Politics in pulpits and elsewhere. Xn. Writers and Speakers of the Revolution . 127 Oratory the literature of war — From words to blows — Thomas Paine's "Common Sense" and "Crisis" — Patrick Henry — Other Southern orators — North- ern orators — Revolution poetry — Philip Freneau — v/"^ Retrospect. Contents xi THE NATIONAL PERIOD Page XIII. Political Writers of the Critical Period . 143 Resumd — Transition gradual — Political contro- versy — The "Federalist" — Its writers — And topics — Other political writers. XIV. Epics and Dramas 152 /T'rumbuirs "McFingal" — Dwight's "Conquest of Canaan" — Barlow's "Vision of Columbus'* and "Columbiad " — Rise of American drama — Hindrances. XV. Early Fiction 165 Susanna Rowson — Her " Charlotte Temple " — Tabitha Tenny's "Female Quixotism" — Hugh Brackenridge — "Modern Chivalry " — Brockden Brown — His fiction — The forward movement. XVI. At the Beginning of the Nineteenth Century 175 John Quincy Adams — Correspondence as litera- ture — " Salmagundi " — James K. Paulding — His writings. XVII. Washington Irving, Humorist and Historian 185 Anriecedents — "Knickerbocker's History of New York" — " The Sketch Book " — Life and letters abroad — His good offices — Voluminous writings — Success and position — Extracts. XVIII. The Knickerbocker Group 198 Joseph Rodman Drake — Fitz-Greene Halleck — Clement C. Moore — Gulian C. Verplanck — William CuUen Bryant — " Thanatopsis " — A poet of nature — " The Flood of Years." XIX. James Fenimore Cooper 211 Education and literary ventures — Stories of the border — Sea stories — Uneven work — In foreign lands — Controversy and criticism — Popularity — " Last of the Mohicans " and " Pilot." xii Contents Page XX. Nathaniel P. Willis and Bayard Taylor . 224 Early promise — Light prose and verse — Travel- ler's letters — " White Poplar literature " — Bay- ard Taylor — Traveller and journalist — "By-Ways of Europe " — " Camadeva " — " Nubia. ' ' XXI. John P. Kennedy and William G. Simms . . 289 Kennedy, lawyer and novelist — History and Ro- mance — " Swallow Barn " — Simms — Fertility and range — Contemporary novelists. XXII. Edgar Allan Poe 251 Early years — First ventures — Inheritances — Literary career — Prose tales — Their ghoulish character — As a critic — Value of contemporary fame. XXin. John Greenleaf Whittier 265 Revolt in New England — Whittier 's antecedents and education — Early efforts — Legend in verse — "Voices of Freedom" — War songs — Poems of the countryside — "Among the Hills." XXIV. Henry Wads worth Longfellow 277 Domestic and foreign sources of poetry — Educa- tion and travel — New and old world poems — " Evangeline " — " Hiawatha " — Other poems — Dedication. XXV. Ralph Waldo Emerson 288 Independency — Restlessness of the time — Popu- lar lectures — Later essays — Style — A stimulant — Prose writings — Verse. XXVI. Nathaniel Hawthorne 300 Early years and writings — Delay of recognition — Puritan traditions — "Scarlet Letter" and other Romances. XXVn. James Russell Lowell 312 Dialect verse — Poems of sentiment — Graver verse — "Fable for Critics"— War poems — Prose writings. Contents xlii Pagk XX Vm. Oliver Wendell Holmes 327 Ancestry — Early verse — Occasional poetry — Humor — Pathos — Range — " The Autocrat '* — "Professor " and " Poet " — Fiction and biography. XXIX. Henry David Thoreau 338 Primitive inclinations — Life at Walden Pond — Isolation — Literary work — Verse. XXX. Walt Whitman 348 Literary independence — The chanter — Sym- pathy with humanity — Americanism — Duality — Primitive type — Improvement with age. XXXI. Sparks, Bancroft, Hildreth, Prescott . , 360 Sparks's early life and labors — Methods — Bancroft — Round Hill School — '' History of the United States ' ' — Topics — Hildreth — Prescott — " Ferdinand and Isabella " — Other works. XXXn. Motley and Parkman .373 Motley's first efforts — "Dutch Republic" — Topics of interest — Later works — Parkman — Among Indians — Record of struggle for a continent— ^Literary heroism. XXXIII. Southern Orators 386 Deliberative oratory — John Randolph — Henry Clay — Qualities of his speech — John C. Cal- houn — Characteristics — Political prophets. XXXIV. Northern Orators 396 Daniel Webster — Forensic eloquence — De- fence of the Union and Constitution — Occa- sional oratory — Edward Everett — Oratorical art — Rufus Choate — Charles Sumner — Wen- dell Phillips — George William Curtis. xiv Contents Page XXXV. Local Fiction 406 After the war — Theodore Winthrop — Edward Eggleston — Bret Harte — Helen Hunt Jackson — George W. Cable — Joel Chandler Harris — Mary N. Murfree — John Esten Cooke — Mary Johnston — New England writers — Mary E. Wilkins — Sarah Orne Jewett and others. XXXVI. Other Phases of Fiction 426 Historic jfiction — Foreign subjects — Anglo- American novelists — Caricature — In the inter- est of realism — The society novel — William D. Howells — Sociologic stories — The novel with a purpose — The abundance of fiction. XXXVII. At the Close of the Nineteenth Century 436 Book-making in 1900 — The element of num- bers — Largest sales — Poetry — Criticism — Magazines — Newspapers. XXXVIII. American Humor 446 Development of Humor — Primitive — English — Early humor in America — Ward — Byles — Franklin — Professional humorists — Judge Hali- burton — Seba Smith — Dialect and Spelling — The " Biglow Papers " — " Nasby " — " Josh Billings " — Shillaber — " Artemus Ward " — Other humorists — Humor of to-day. Reading Li8T 463 Index 471 The Colonial Period 1607— 1783 " Though the beginning may seeme harsh in regard of the Antiquities y brevity f and names; a pleasanter discourse ensues." Captain John Smith. American Literature IN ITS COLONIAL ^ NATIONAL PERIODS I INTRODUCTORY There are many indications of an increasing interest in colonial antiquities. The most obvious is the latest fashion in architecture, with its gambrel roofs, ^^^ coioniai pillared porticos, yellow and white coloring, ^«°»****°"- suggesting if not following the style of building in the eighteenth century. Such houses must be furnished in a manner to correspond, and the country-side is ran- sacked to find uncomfortable chairs, clocks whose altitude is greater than their accuracy, and sideboards with rheu- matic joints. New factories are started to make old bric-k-brac, and good plate is battered into better. The children that run about these houses answer to ancient names like Dorothy, Gladys, and Sibyl — the more antique, like Keziah and Keturah, Benhadad and Barzillai, being dropped as too Hebraic for modem use. Then the colonial spirit spreads from the family to the community, and socie- ties and organizations spring up to connect their members 4 American Literature with pilgrims and soldiers, governors and wars. We have our colonial dames, and they have their battles. There are sons and daughters of this and that, distinguished in proportion to the remoteness of their ancestry. So wide has the contagion spread that we have been threatened with a return of the full-skirted coat and long waistcoat, of small clothes and shoe buckles, although no one has yet suggested the earlier steeple hat, doublet, and trunk hose of the Puritan. Indeed, through all this Stuart and Hanoverian restoration a saving soberness of judgment has prevailed sufficient to keep it from running away with its advocates. At least, they have never taken kindly to the Cromwellian features of colonial art. Possibly some may discover signs of coming imperialism in this, and the slogan of the future may be the old song whose burden was : ^' In good old colony times, When we lived under a king." After all, this looking backward and bringing forward is not a mere fad or temporary craze. Its lightest move- ments are as the foam on the surface which goes with a strong current underneath — the historical spirit of this generation, combined with a patriotism which means to honor the nation's founders by preserving the records of their doings. In everybody's desire to gather up SibylUne leaves before it is too late, it is not strange that family records and genealogies, old wills and inventories, surviv- ing plate, spinning wheels, and even pewter mugs, should get into the drag-net. Who shall say what value any of these may have to the historian in coming centuries ? In view of this retrospective disposition of our time it would be glaringly inconsistent to overlook the writings Introductory 5 of the colonial period. If literature is a truer record of a people's life than the minutes of parliaments and town meetings, it cannot be neglected for historical coioniai reasons. Besides, literature has a history of its "^"^^"ss- own, any part of which cannot be understood without some knowledge of what has gone before. A people may change its political status in a day, or declare that it has done so, but in the domain of letters, as in that of nature, there is a continuous growth which knows no sudden changes. There is no broad cleavage between its after development and its early struggles for life. These may be forgotten or derided, as a man laughs at his own youthful efforts, without which he would never have come to distinction. It is pleasant to look upon the strong trunk and branches of a tree with its wealth of foliage and fruit, and easy to forget the ungainly roots below ground, but the tree does not forget that through them comes its life from remote fountains, and its staying power. Accordingly, when we grow self-complacent over our recent attainments in letters, and are amused, as we cannot help being, at the exploits of our forbears, it is well to recall some sturdy qualities in their literature, as in their life. Above all, it will be needful to keep in mind a few circumstances and conditions which differed from those in which we are placed, and helped to make colonial literature unlike that of the present day. First, it should be remembered that it was written by colonists of Great Britain. It is not easy to understand all that this meant to our forefathers. For a Represent century and a quarter the ruling ideas which ^"^^^^ ^'^^^s- were in a colonist's mind have been growing indis- tinct, since they were summarily dismissed after the \/ 6 American Literature Declaration of Independence. A visit to Canada will not invariably make them clear to a citizen of the United States. They are a matter of inheritance and faithful cherishing by colonists who have never revolted. For one hundred and twenty-five years we have been throwing to the winds a legacy for which we have no more use than for crowns and thrones. In this way we have forgotten how largely these once substantial realities entered into the thinking and writing of Americans. Not that royalty always obtruded itself into the kingdom of letters, but, like the weather, it had its inspiriting or depressing effect, according to its mood. How often and how much this varied can be clearly traced in the com- plexion of the colonial documents, public and private. It changed with different monarchs and with the same ruler on different occasions, sometimes on account of atmos- pheric changes in New England or Virginia. But in the main the colonist was sensible of his connection with the mother country and was affectionately proud of it. He was an Englishman abroad, cultivating and defending a part of the British empire. When he visited England he spoke of going home. His ships brought back other Englishmen, the wares, ideas, and fashions of London. When he could afford it he sent his sons to Oxford or Cambridge, and they brought back the law, medicine, and some of the theology they learned there. Then there was what may be called the court literature, which was a factor in colonial production. What pleased king and courtiers was likely to find general favor and a publisher. The fashion once set, there were pens enough to follow it and to give a popular tone to literature in England, which would be imitated in America, provided it Introductory 7 did not clash with colonial tastes and principles. This, however, is an important proviso. Perhaps the first move- ment toward independence that can be discovered was the refusal to follow the literary leading of Charles the Second's dramatists and poets. Boston laid an embargo upon them long before it pitched taxed tea overboard. However, this was carried too far, and books were interdicted that would have been good for New Englanders. While, then, the colonists were loyal to British ideas, they never forgot that they were Britons, with the national habit of thinking for themselves, often aloud And English and in black and white. This independence ^'^*^y* was fostered here by their distance from home, their isola- tion, and devotion to a few principles which they came here to maintain. As a consequence, their writings v became intensely provincial. They could not well be otherwise. The new country was full of strange interest to Pilgrim and Puritan. They were aware that they were committed to an enterprise with boundless prospects for the future, and that the eyes of Europe were upon them. Meantime, their own world was the little settlement between the wide ocean and the wilderness. Their vision gradually became limited to the neighbor- hood with its meeting-house, school, magistrate, and minis- ter. The last of these was commonly what they Narrowing called him — their teacher. He was expected ^°^"*"*=*^- to furnish ideas, to do most of the reading, to be leader and guide, critic and censor for the community. In return they asserted the right to discuss his propositions and criticise his manner. But the discussion and the criti- cism, the word spoken, and finally the word written, were ^ 8 American Literature largely in theologic and polemic lines, and at length in political. The remainder was personal and town talk. The diary and the journal, the narrative and the minutes of the assembly, had for them the importance of what is near, personal, and present. They could not distinguish the perishable from the permanent in their materials for history. Everything was in the foreground, like a Jap- anese landscape. The death of an elder's calf and the drowning of his neighbor are chronicled in the same entry. The arrival of a belle from London and of a royal charter create equal commotions. Variations from the sermon, the journal, or the narrative for Enghsh readers consisted in poetic effusions which could not be wholly restrained, even when poetry was under a ban. The early colonist put a cork in the bottle of his fancy, wired it down, and when it began to fizz put it under his cloak or carried it into his cellar. Bound to escape or burst the bottle, the muse was released with the chokings and gurg- lings of a strangled culprit. She had a cracked, nasal, doleful voice and uncertain gait to the end. Her sober strains were mournful and agonizing; her merry moods like the gambols of a hippopotamus ; her eulogistic per- formances like the contortions of a juggler. Certainly the glory of colonial literature is not in its verse. Much more can be said for its political writings in later years and the speeches which were preserved by the scanty reporting of the time. In these directions the colonist won distinction at home and abroad. Toward them the course of events carried him inevitably, and the strength of his mind and the impulses of his heart went with pen and tongue in high political discourse. The Introductory 9 liberties of a nation were largely won by its masterly achievements in this kind. Eeaders of this brief and general survey may wonder what there can be in our colonial writings to enlist attention. The best answer is : Eead them and see. As, however, they are not all easily accessible, the best that can be done here will be to mention representative writers and where their "literary remains" may be found, giving extracts when worth giving, and noting changes for the better through which the provincial advanced to the national. Few always consider how long a period was occupied in this evolution, or the fact that the colonial years exceed those of our national life thus far by fifty-seven — one hundred and seventy-six against one hundred and nineteen. But the relative growth of the last period cannot be balanced by the greater length of the first, nor the improvement that has been made in letters as in every other art. Still, whether colonial or national, American literature should appeal to Americans. The love and the study of letters should begin at home, however widely they may broaden out in sympathy and attainment. Whether English or American in any particular stage of its growth here, our literature is the product of our race, and of our soil, and is something of which in any age we need not be ashamed, when environment is considered. n JOHN SMITH AND COMPANY American antiquities are scarce and widely separated. Compared with those of the old world they are recent — and also unproductive of large revenues from fees. Of the few we have, the most interesting is the old church tower which marks the place on the James Eiver where in May, 1607, a hundred Englishmen disembarked to establish the first government and church within the territory of what is now the United States. They like- wise began a literature there which has grown with the growth of the nation. Incidentally and parenthetically it may be observed, that there is no spot which should be of greater interest to Americans than the plot of fifty acres, now in charge of the Virginia Antiquarian Society, where can be seen all that time and the river have spared of the beginnings of the republic. Now and then a traveller steps off the Norfolk and Richmond boat at the end of a long landing- stage, probably not far from the former shore line, and has a few hours for meditation, — which he can continue if he chooses at old Williamsburg, seven miles inland. In 1907 it is expected that many pilgrims will gather to celebrate the three hundredth anniversary of the planting of the first permanent settlement in America, of which one John Smith was the foremost man. 10 John Smith and Company ii John Smith of Lincolnshire, with York and Lancaster blood in him, was no discredit to his ancestors, smith as a Soldier of even if he did run away from school and home Fortune. and — " Ship himself all aboard of a ship, Foreign countries for to see." He saw them to some purpose and as a soldier of fortune, as Ashton his contemporary calls him, in France and the Low Countries, in Italy and Transylvania, fighting Span- iard, Turk, and Tartar. The last knight-errant of English chivalry in quest of adventure, he tilts in tournament with three Turkish champions, the token of whose severed heads is blazoned on his heraldic escutcheon by order of Prince Sigismund Bathor. Fortune turning, he becomes the slave of a Bashaw and the favorite of a princess at Constanti- nople, escapes, turns up in Barbary, fights pirates, shares booty, and finally returns to England to hear of recent American discoveries, among them " the blessed herb to- bacco," casts in his lot with Gosnold, Wingfield, and divers gentlemen to sail for Virginia and to search for the South Sea as the repository of immense riches. What they did find on the 26th of April, 1607, was a great store of roast oysters left by decamping natives, and nothing more valuable than the pearls in the shells. It was the beginning of a well-known story of disappointment and sickness, disaster and death, of which only the literary side can be touched upon here. Beading the melancholy account of the encampment on the flats by the tidewater of the James river, it would not be fair to expect great achievements in literature amidst such surroundings. Yet the redoubtable Smith, who had hewn his way through the world with a sword, does not hesitate to pick / 12 American Literature up the quill of a wild goose — the best of pens for the story of a chase for gold such as he had to record. To be sure, he is as apologetic as any new author, As a Writer. i-.r. t • ip • ^ ^ and fortifies himself at the start with the remark that other soldiers "have writ with their pens what their swords have done," and he counts it no disgrace to follow their example, as others since have followed his. !But his manner of writing suggests the sword rather than the pen, stabbing upon paper as with a dagger point his sharp sentences. It is not the clerkly style, but that of a soldier, hirsute and bristling with helmet, back and breast plates, sitting in a hut of logs and mud, armed and prepared for morning calls of aboriginal visitors on mischief bent, interrupted jon every page by business or brawl of com- rades, and for days together by expeditions of discovery or diplomacy in savage wilds. Yet out of this turmoil and distraction he contrives to wrest letters which shall induce other Englishmen of spirit to join the little company for its advantage and their own. What is known as the " True Eelation," or "News from Virginia," doubtless contains the substance of those early letters. How much it was tampered with later must be left to the critics to settle among themselves, but there are passages in it that bear the ear-mark of Captain John. For example : " The next day came first an Indian, then another as ambas- sadors to speak with me. Our discourse was, that what spades, shovels, swords, or tools, they had stolen, to bring home (if not the next day they should hang) . The next news was they had taken two of our men, ranging in the woods, which mischief no punishment will prevent but hanging, and these they should redeem with their own. Sixteen or eighteen thus braving us to our doors we desired to sally upon them, that they might know John Smith and Company 13 what we durst to do, and at iiight manned our barge and burnt their towns and destroyed and spoiled what we could, but they brought our men and freely delivered them. The president re- leased one, the rest we brought, well guarded, to morning and evening prayers. Our men all in arms, their trembling fear then caused them much sorrow which till then scoffed and scorned at what we durst do. The council concluded that I should terrify them with some torture." It is interesting to observe here the combination of an executive and a missionary spirit, and that the zeal of conquest was accompanied by compulsory attendance on the daily services. Also that religious observances prevailed in the planting of American civilization. More to the present purpose it is to note the jagged style, which' originally was without intelligible punctuation, and had a lawless distribution of capitals and divisions of sentences. But the mixture of force and piety, of enterprise and bad grammar belongs to all our early history. In his dedication of his " History of Virginia " to the Duchess of Kichmond, Smith says: — "I have deeply hazarded myself in doing and suffering, and why should I stick to hazard my reputation in recording ? Where shall we look to find a Julius Caesar whose achievements shine as clear in his own Commentaries as they did in the field ? But because I am no compiler by hearsay, but have been a real actor, I have therefore been bold to challenge them to come under the reach of my rough pen." He also lays the responsibility of his writing his " Travels and Adven- tures " upon Sir Kobert Cotton, and also upon the perversion by contemporaries of his previous books, saying : " They have acted my fatal tragedies upon the stage and racked my relations at their pleasure." Doubtless this was a 14 American Literature stroke at some of William Shakespeare's company at the Mermaid tavern. If in any of the eight books, large and small, which he wrote after the " News from Virginia," and six of them in ofRomanc- England during a score of years — if in them ingTurn. j^^ bordcrs upon the marvellous at times, it must be remembered that he was a strong man, with the capacity of making the most and best of everything, him- self included; that he had an enlarging lens for facts, and a royally romantic imagination with respect to distant events, and that he had Sir John Mandeville to precede him in stories of travel and Baron Munchausen to follow him in accounts of exploits among the Turks. It is possible that a great romancer was spoiled when he threw aside his Machiavelli's "Art of War" and Marcus Aurelius, his two favorite authors, and started to serve under Eudolf of Hungary. Nevertheless, his principal so-called fable of the Pocahontas episode has been fairly well established as true, his early silence being accounted for by a prudent reserve with regard to aboriginal customs toward intruders, lest Englishmen should be kept at home by visions of clubs and stony pillows. This story once confirmed, Smith's other narrations and descriptions may be taken with as little salt as should be administered with most histories of his day, such as Hakluyt's "Voyages" and Purchas' " Pilgrims " and " Pilgrimage." After all, it will be convenient to pack upon English shoulders most of the fault that is found with the literary shortcomings of the first man who wrote in America ; for he went home in two and a half years to stay, and to write there for twenty more. " We were still to be accounted Englishmen," he said of the colonists when they settled in John Smith and Company 15 Virginia, " which might be of use when any of our number returned to England." With all his affection and longing for the colony from which he had been removed by the unwisdom of its London managers, it is not probable that he ever called himself an American author. Still, he was the beginner of colonial letters, and as such it is pleasant to connect so forceful and graphic a writer with their v earliest history. Of himself he says in the Preface to the " History of Virginia " : " I ever intended that my actions should be upright : now my care hath been that my Eelations should give every man they concerne, their due. But had I not discovered and lived in the most of these parts, I could not possibly have collected the substantial! truth from such a number of variable Eelations, that would have made a Volume at least of a thousand sheets. Though the beginning may seeme harsh in regard of the Antiq- uities, brevity, and names ; a pleasanter discourse ensues. The style of a soldier is not eloquent, but honest and justifiable ; so I desire all my friends and well wishers to accept it, and if any be so noble as to respect it, he that brought New England to light though long since brought in obscuritie, he is againe to be found a true servant to all good designs." The reader who wishes to find the best that Smith wrote, and to Americans the most interesting, will look for his " History of Virginia," which every public library should have. If he is not led on page after page with increasing interest in the narratives and the descriptions, it will be because he has no appreciation of adventure and no eye for the picturesque. There will be some rough reading, but if the test of a writer be the sus- tained interest in his story, John Smith will be found to acquit himself as creditably in the field of literature as V 1 6 American Literature on the field of battle, albeit bis methods are somewhat similar in both, as in the following : " I bad them depart, but flourishing their swords, they seemed but to defend what they could catch but out of our hands, his pride urged me to turne him from amongst us, whereat he offered to strike me with his sword, which I prevented, striking him first : the rest offering to revenge the blow, received such an incounter and fled ; the better to aff'right them, I pursued them with five or six shot, and so chased them out of the Hand : the beginning of this broyle, little expecting by his carriage, we durst have resisted, having even till that present, not beene contradicted, especially them of Paspahigh ; these - Indians within one houre, having by other Salvages, then in the Fort, understood that I threatened to be revenged, came presently of themselves, and fell to working upon our wears, which were then in hand by other Salvages, who seeing their pride so incountered, were so submissive and willing to doe anything as might be, and with trembling feare, desired to be friends within three dales after." The reader of this passage from the " True Relation " — the earliest published account of the first year at James- town — will rate the captain's courage higher than his literary sense. The strength of his sentence is equalled if not surpassed by its length and rambling. And he will wonder how the " Newes from Virginia " read to sundry playwrights in London, who in those days were looking for material to work up for the delectation of the crowd at Blackf riars and the Globe theatres. There were other writers in the company first and last who contributed chapters to Smith's history ers in the and WTote Icttcrs and little books of their own. Company. As late as 1618, John Rolfe, Pocahontas hus- band, complains of scandalous letters sent to England " to John Smith and Company 17 disgrace this country with barrenness, to discourage ad- venturers, to bring it and us to ruin and confusion . . . such devilish bad minds we know some of our country- men to have not only to the business, but also to our mother England herself." Thomas Studley and Annas Todkill wrote of discoveries and accidents in Virginia; also Anthony Bagnall and Nathaniel Powell. Eichard Pots and William Tankard, thirsty names, complain of the supplies sent, and especially of the kind of colonists, " for all the rest were poor gentlemen, tradesmen, serving men, libertines and such like, ten times more fit to spoil a commonwealth than to begin or help to maintain one." William Parker and Ealph Hamor write about Powhatan ; Thomas Dale, Master Whitaker and Samuel Argall about Pocahontas ; Henry May and John Evans about ship- wrecks upon the Bermudas, or the " He of Devils that all men did shun as hell and perdition." These "Eelations" Smith adapts or adopts as editor of the " History of Vir- ginia," which finally expands to take in the " Trials and Profits of New England " and several other topics. In addition to these occasional contributors, a few colonists left longer memorials of their stay. George Sandys, son of an archbishop of York, turned ten books of Ovid into English amid shades that were more savage than classic, and Father Andrew White rendered his English thoughts about Maryland into Latin under similar conditions. Master Strachey in his " Wrack and Eedemption of Sir Thomas Gates" anticipated Shake- speare's Ariel passage in the "Tempest," if he did not suggest it, and George Alsop addressed the shade of Cromwell in lines that would have made trouble for him in New England. 1 8 American Literature " Here lies that Oliver which of old betrayed His King and master, and after did assume, With swelling pride to govern in his room." And in this : " To an Old Velvet Cap " : " Say, didst thou cover Noll's old brazen head ? "Which on the top of Westminster's high lead Stands on a pole erected to the sky As a grand trophy to his memory 1 '* More mournful verses were written for Nathaniel Bacon's epitaph, and polemic prose growing out of his " Eebellion against Berkeley." George Percy, brother of the Earl of Northumberland, discoursed of the spring paradise of Virginia, and later of the summer pestilence and wasting, and Alexander Whitaker, son of the presi- dent of a Cambridge college and a devoted missionary to the Indians, attempts to interest Englishmen in their welfare. Taken together, the writers in the John Smith company were the best of it in those early years when every social grade was represented in the motley crowd that came over in the " Susan Constant," the '* God-speed " and the "Discovery." At least it was the men of letters who made for themselves a memorial which has outlasted the fame of Dru Pickhouse, adventurer, and Abram Eansack, refiner of gold ; of Post Ginnat, surgeon, Larence Towtales, tailor, and Eob Allerton, perfumer. Even the uncouth compositions of John Smith, soldier and pioneer, captain, councillor, and governor, have done more to preserve his fame than his fighting and his administration. There is a barbaric strength and directness in them which are pre- servative elements, and their recommendation in stirring John Smith and Company 19 times when such qualities may be needed. Besides, these writings enshrine the beginnings of American history in a form not unsuited to the rough experiences of its earliest makers. The same may be said of the half dozen prin- cipal writers of this primitive age in Virginia and the sister colony of Maryland. If the reader should wish to explore the literature of this early time he will find the most of it in the printed records of historical societies. Some of Smith's writings are pubhshed in volumes by themselves, but those of other writers here mentioned will be found in his " History of Virginia," or in Purchas* books. In *' Force's Historical Tracts " there are reprints of interesting narratives, also in the magazine published by the Virginia Historical Society and in the volumes of the Massachusetts Historical So- ciety Collections. Other references might be given, but these may be sufficient for the present purpose. Ill ' PLYMOUTH DIARISTS Thirteen years after one hundred Englishmen landed in Virginia amid the bloom and fragrance of the southern springtime, another hundred disembarked on the bleak coast of Cape Cod in the dead of winter. Both companies were English; so were Charles the First and Cromwell and the two great parties of Churchmen and Puritans — Cavaliers and Eoundheads, as they called each other. The four hundred miles of coast between the two settle- ments may stand for the difference between them in several particulars. With respect to what may be called their literature, there is no greater diversity than in their religious, political, and social principles and customs. Both used, and helped to preserve, the English speech of their time ; but each colony had its own way of looking at things temporal and spiritual, and each had a landscape of its own to contem- plate and a climate of its own to enjoy or contend with. These and other causes made the thoughts of the New Eng- land farmers and fishermen differ from those of the Virginia planters. For example, while southern immigrants came here for gain or adventure, having no quarrel with church or state at home, the northern contingent left England in order to secure for themselves a larger liberty in religious matters. This liberty, however, was to be enjoyed by 20 Plymouth Diarists 21 themselves exclusively, or by those who should be of their way of thinking. Such purposes produced marked char- acteristics in their writings — first a pietistic element, later a polemic, and finally a pugilistic. It should be observed that neither of these features was disagreeably present in the earliest of their compositions. The principal writers were in the mood to iustify their separation from the mother coun- E™iy writ- ings, try by a fair-minded setting forth of their reasons for leaving it, having all the while a certain home- sick regard for much that they had left behind. Moreover, at first they were men of balanced minds, with a restraint in their speech bred of the consciousness that their readers were to be the great public in Britain, upon whose good will the prosperity of their enterprise was largely dependent. Accordingly the first letters at Plymouth were pervaded with the sobriety of the colonist whose conscience had sent him adrift from the land he loved. William Bradford is the earliest of these chroniclers, whose record of the first twenty-seven years of Plymouth history became the quarry from which subse- quent compilers dug much material. The Bradford's original manuscript, long lost and detained in England, was received in 1897 from the Bishop of London by the State of Massachusetts at the hands of the American ambassador with almost as much reverent ceremony as if the author himself had returned to Boston. Next to reading this document, now two hundred and fifty years old, is the easier privilege of perusing the fair new copy with facsimile illustration, published in 1898 by the Com- monwealth of Massachusetts. Only a paragraph or two can be cited here to illustrate the equable temper and 12 American Literature straightforward narration of the second colonial governor and the plain English of a scholarly man who could speak or, like Bekker, be silent in five languages. They certainly had not smothered the clear . Saxon and the strong idioms of his mother tongue. *'For these and some other reasons they [the English pil- grims] removed to Leyden, a fair and beautiful city and of sweet situation, but made more famous by the university wherewith it is adorned, in which of late had been so many learned men. But wanting that traffic by sea which Amsterdam enjoys, it was not beneficial for their outward means of living and estates. But now being here pitched they fell to such trades and em- ployments as they best could, balancing peace and their spiritual comfort above any other riches whatsoever. And at length they came to raise a competent and comfortable living, but with hard and continual labor." Later follows an account of the departure from Holland, of delays and reverses in getting away from England, of a tempestuous voyage, and finally of the arrival at Cape Cod. " Being thus arrived in a good harbor and brought safe to land, they fell upon their knees and blessed ye God of heaven who had brought them over ye vast and furious ocean, and delivered them from all the perils and miseries therof, againe to set their feete on ye firme and stable earth, their proper elemente. And no mar- veil if they were thus joyefull, seeing wise Seneca was so affected with sailing a few miles on ye coast of his own Italy ; as he affirmed that he had rather remaine twentie years on his way by land, than pass by sea to any place in a short time ; so tedious and dreadfull was ye same unto him. . . . " And for the reason that it was winter, and they that know the winters of that country know them to be sharp and violent and subject to cruel and fierce storms, dangerous to travel to known places, much more to search an unknown coast. Plymouth Diarists 23 "Besides, what could they see but a hideous and desolate wilderness, full of wild beasts and wild men? And what multitudes there might be of them they knew not. ... If they looked behind them there was the mighty ocean which they had passed and was now as a main bar or gulf to separate them from all the civil parts of the world." To use the author's words, " Sundry other things I pass over as being tedious and not pertinent." OtheVs there are, full of the interest which belongs to the history that is written as fast as it is made, portraying with graphic partic- ularity the going out and the coming in of a people. The departure of the " Mayflower " on the return voyage ; the arrival of the " Fortune ; " the^ treaty with Massasoit ; the trouble with Lyford and Oldome, and the castaway crew which brought both profit and disturbance ; the dishon- esty of agents and factors ; the capture of Sir Christopher Gardiner ; the arrival of Eoger Williams ; the settlement on the Connecticut and trouble on the Kennebec.; the meddlesome French; a hurricane on the coast; the fight with the Pequots, and finally the " breaking out of sundry notorious sins," and the punishment according to Mosaic law, — such incidents and events are faithfully and impartially set down in a charitable temper and with as true a sense of proportionate importance as a chronicler of a little neighborhood can be expected to have. Most ; remarkable for that time is an unusual freedom from ■ imputing the disasters of enemies to the judgment of heaven, and not too much assuming that the settlers at Plymouth were the chosen people of the new dispensation. In short, Bradford represents the hard common sense which the first colonists brought with them; and his plain annals, year after year, are the unbiased record of 24 American Literature a humble but sturdy people, conscious of a high mission which they girded themselves to fulfil. It is not easy to say which is the most interesting portion of this fascinating record of a quarter of a century, extending through five hundred pages and more in the edition of 1898. The American citizen who takes up this chronicle of origins will not dismiss it half read. He will be pleased to note how the experiment of a community of goods, which every fresh settlement must try, turned out at Plymouth : — ** So they begane to thinke how they might raise as much corne as they could, and obtain a better crope then they had done that they might not still thus languish in miserie. At length, after much debate of things the Gov"" (with the advise of the cheefest among them) gave way that they should set corne every man for his owne perticuler, and in that regard trust to them selves ; in all other things to goe on in ye geneerall way as before. And so assigned to every family a parcell of land. . . . This had very good success ; for it made all hands very industrious, so as more corne was planted then other waise would have bene by any means. . . . The women now wente willingly into the field, and tooke their little-ons with them to set corne, which before would aledg weaknes, and inabilitie ; whom to have compelled would have been thought great tiranie and oppression. " The experience that was had in this comon course and condi- tion, tried sundrie years, and that amongst godly and sober men, may well evince the vanitie of that conceit of Plato's and other ancients, applauded by some of later times ; — that the taking away of propertie, and bringing in communitie into a comone wealth, would make them happy and flourishing ; as if they were wiser than God. For this comunitie (so farr as it was) was found to breed much confusion and discontent, and retard much imployment that would have been to theii benefite and com forte. Plymouth Diarists 25 " For ye yong-men that were most able and fitte for labour and service did repine that they should spend their time and streingth to worke for other men's wives and children, without any recom- pence. . . . And for men's wives to be commanded to doe servise for other men, as dresing their meate, washing their cloathes, -, t^ ^ -, - •, tiously m a version of the Psalms and with the determination to be faithful to the original Hebrew, if not to poetic graces. Their success is shown by the following extracts from the Bay Psalm Book, the first volume of any consequence printed in America, Cam- bridge, 1640 : " Remember, Lord, Edom's sons* words, Unto the ground say they : * It raze, it raze,' when it was Jerusalem her day. " Blessed shall he be that payeth thee, Daughter of Babylon, Which must be waste, that which thou hast Rewarded us upon. " How good and sweet, O see. For brethren 't is to dwell As one in unity I Controversy and Verse 51 It 's like choice oyl that fell The head upon ; That down the beard unto Beard of Aaron. " My soul gave me a sudden twitch That made me nimbly slide, Like unto the chariots the which Abinidab did ride." To get the full effect of these harmonious measures the reader should imagine them " deaconed " off two lines at a time and followed by the command, " Sing," and sung with the nasal drone which Scott has caricatured in " Peveril of the Peak." Still, without this accompaniment the standard of poetic art in 1640 will be apparent. It is surpassed only by the frigid or vengeful prose of the time. This in turn is matched by the threats of the warrior psalmist against the enemies of Israel, made more dire by the frightful translation of Eliot, Welde, and Mather, with an eye now and then to certain disturbers of their peace. A woman, Anne Bradstreet, was the j&rst person in \ Massachusetts to make poetry a business. Men had V considered it a sly pastime and like the father j^^^^^ of this poetess. Governor Dudley, carried ^'■^'^^^^^^*- rhymed epitaphs in their pockets as concealed weapons. The governor's own ran: — " My shuttle 's shot, my race is run, My sun is set, my deed is done," etc. But the daughter of one governor and the wife of another did not need to hide her candle after pubhshing the first volume of American poetry, entitled " The Tenth Muse," London, 1650. Her subjects are nature and man, / the seasons and temperaments, the flesh and the spirit, | 52 American Literature four ancient monarchies, and contemplations. This is from "Winter" : — ** December is my first, and now the sun To the southward tropick swift his race doth run, This month he 's housed in horned Capricorn, From thence he 'gins to length the shortened mom. " Cold frozen January next comes in, Chilling the blood and shrinking up the skin ; The day much longer than it was before, The cold not lessened, but augmented more." Her " L'Envoi " is better, because truer ; — " My subject *s bare, mj'- brain is bad, Or better lines you would have had. The first fell in so nat'rally, ■ I knew not how to pass it b}'. The last, though bad, I could not mend, Accept therefore of what is penned. And all the faults that you shall spy Shall at your feet for pardon cry." Better still is this from her " Contemplations " : — " Man 's at the best a creature frail and vain, In knowledge ignorant, in strength but weak : Subject to sorrows, losses, sickness, pain, Each storm his state, his mind, his body break From some of these he never finds cessation, But day or night, within, without, vexation, Troubles from foes, from friends, from dearest, near'st relation. " And yet this sinful creature, frail and vain. This lump of wretchedness, of sin and sorrow, This weather-beaten vessel wrect with pain, Joyes not in hope of an eternel morrow : Nor all his losses, crosses and vexation, In weight, in frequency and long duration Can make him groan for that divine Translation. Controversy and Verse 53 " Time the fatal wrack of mortal things, That draws oblivion's curtain over kings, Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not, Their names without a Record, are forgot. Their parts, their ports, their pomp 's all laid in th' dust, Nor wit, nor gold, nor buildings 'scape time's rust ; But he whose name is graved in the white stone Shall last and shine when all of these are gone." Michael Wigglesworth was the first male in New Eng- land to be responsible for prolonged verse. He desired to rescue poetry from the heathen associations of the classical school with Juno, Mars, Jove, and wiggies- worth. the rest of Olympus. Accordingly he com- posed a poem on the last judgment, under the title, "The Day of Doom," suited to the religious temper of his generation. It was a great success, being read by more people in proportion to the inhabitants than any other book since its day. But what could be the literary taste or the standard of belief or the brightness of outlook in a community that read and reread and repeated by rote such stanzas as these ? STANZA XXXVI. " Fast by them stand at Christ's left hand, the Lion fierce and fell, The Dragon bold, that Serpent old, that hurried Souls to Hell. There also st^nd, under command, g legions of Sprites unclean, And hellish Fiends, that are no friends to God, nor unto Men." XXXVII. " With dismel chains, and strongest reins, like prisoners of Hell, They 're held in place before Christ's face till He their Doom shall tell. 54 American Literature These void of tears, but filled with fears and dreadful expectation Of endless pains and scalding flames, stand waiting for Damnation." ** But as for those whom I have chose Salvation's heir to be, I underwent their punishment, and therefore set them free. I bore their grief, and their relief by suffering procured. That they of bliss and happiness might firmly be assured." To those who pleaded honest lives it is answered in stanza CIV. " Again you thought and mainly wrought a name with men t' acquire ; Pride bare the Bell that made you swell and your own selves admire. Mean fruit it is, and vile I wiss, that springs from such a root ; Virtue divine and genuine wonts not from pride to shoot." And to youth suggesting the shortness of their lives it is replied in stanza CXI. " Could you find time for vain pastime, » for loose licentious mirth ? For fruitless toys and fading joys, that perish in the birth ? Had you good leisure for carnal Pleasure in days of health and youth ? And yet no space to seek God's face, and turn to him in truth 1 '* Then follows a company of the misled, and of the fearful of persecution, and the non-elect — a ditficult class to deal Controversy and Verse 55 with on prevailing theories, but the answer is consistent with the current creed as exploited in stanza CXLIX. " Whom God will save, such will he have the means of life to use ; Whom he '11 pass by shall choose to die ; and ways of life refuse. He that fore-sees and fore-decrees, in wisdom ordered has. That man's free-will, electing ill, shall bring his Will to pass." The climax occurs when infants complain that they should be condemned for Adam's guilt. " Whose sinful Fall hath split us all ; '* and they ask in stanza CLXX. " Canst thou deny us once to try, or Grace to us tender, When he finds grace before thy face who was the chief offender 1 " But the case presents no difficulty to the father of eight infants by three wives, and he sings stanza CLXXI. " What you call old Adam's Fall, and only his Trespass You call amiss to call it his, both his and yours it was " — which is expounded in forty-eight lines, and then in stanza CLXXX. ** You sinners are, and such a share as sinners may expect ; Such you shall have, for I do save none but mine own elect ; Yet to compare your sin with their who lived a longer time, I do confess, yours is much less, though every sin 's a crime. A crime it is, therefore, in bliss you may not hope to dwell, But unto you I shall allow the easiest room in hell." S6 American Literature And then, to satisfy the logical and theological spirit of his age, he adds : *' The glorious king thus answering, they cease, and plead no longer ; Their consciences must needs confess, his reasons are the stronger ! " Poor children ! poorer parents ! poorest poet ! And worse than all, the age that made possible and loved this doggerel of doom. To quote the words of Hawthorne once more : — " Let us thank God for having given us such ancestors, and let each generation thank Him not less earnestly for being one step further from them in the march of ages." VI SEWALL'S DIARY AND MATHER'S MAGNALIA TowAED the close of the first half of the colonial era the literary atmosphere grew extremely murky. The sulphu- rous smoke of Wigglesworth's "Dies Irae" was making the days yellow and the nights lurid; nevertheless the orthodox snuffed it with mitigated and sanctified glee. Increase Mather's " Further Account of New England Witches" prolonged the grateful shudder which had attended their presence and their taking off in former years. Lest there should be too much diversion in frequent sermons and Thursday lectures — the only public entertain- ments of the period — Thomas Shepherd wrote his " Wine for Gospel Wantons." For dissipation of another kind — now getting too common — Increase Mather composed his " Woe to Drunkards." Even Eoger Williams had to dig George Fox out of his burrows, and Cotton Mather closed the century with his " Mournful Decade," while in unconscious irony Samuel Sewall portrayed a dreary New England under the figure of "The New Heaven as It Appears to Those Who Stand Upon the New Earth." Meantime the worthy judge was writing with equal un- consciousness the one valuable end-of-the-century book, his diary. A graduate of Harvard and tutor at twenty-one, Sewall, a young Englishman, twelve years in Boston, begins his entries on Dec. 3, 1673 : " I read to the senior sophisters 57 5 8 American Literature the fourteenth chapter of Heerboord's Physick, etc." He continues his noting of events great and small for fifty-six sewau's years with a regularity which has been the ^'^''^' despair of subsequent diarists. For example: March 23, "I had my hair cut." June 15, "Thomas Sargeant was whipped before all the scholars in the col- lege library. Prayer was had before and after by the president." Nov. 11, " Morning proper fair, the weather exceedingly benign, but (to me) metaphoric, dark and portentous, some prodigy appearing in every corner of the skies." Dropping dates, abridging, and correcting the spelling : — " Mr. Willard preaches the lecture. Sixty persons killed at Quinebeck by barbarous Indians ; John Holyday stands in the pillory for counterfeiting a lease ; brewed my wife's groaning beer ; quaker marched through the town crying Eepent ; artillery election day ; Mr. West comes from Carolina for cure of dry gripes : Mr. Stoddard brings particulars of execution of Duke of Monmouth; carts come to town Christmas day ; some observe the day, and are vexed that the body of the people profane it ; blessed be God no authority yet to compel them to keep it ; dreamed that our Lord came to Boston ; admired his goodness and wisdom in coming here and spending some part of his short life here ; I. Mather's * Arrow Against Dancing ' comes out ; Eliakim falls ill of the measels ; funeral of Lady Andros. Text, ' All flesh is grass ; ' Mr. Cotton Mather visits me; ride to Cambridge lecture; Captain Frary sees a soldier in the common with an Indian squaw; at the funeral of her husband. Deacon Eliot, I led the young widow and had scarf and gloves ; bought a Greek testament ; Major Brown has home his bride ; corrected Sam for breach of the ninth command- SewalFs Diary and Mather's Magnalia 59 ment, saying he had been at the writing school when he had not." Sailing for England in November, 1698, he notes : — " My Erasmus was quite loosened out of the binding by the breaking of the water in the cabin. I put on a clean shirt this morn. Ate Simon Gates's goose. Dream much of my wife. Eead the eleventh Hebrews and sang the forty-sixth Psalm." Getting ashore he visits Canter- bury and St. Paul's cathedrals, Oxford and Cambridge, hears sermons, dines, buys commentaries, sees the sights in London, makes his will, and sails for Boston, where his personal history is continued with great and sometimes painful particularity. This is especially the case when anything is physically wrong with himself or his neigh- bors. Montaigne was not more unreserved in describing personal ailments. To bodily fortunes and misfortunes Sewall adds the elations and depressions of his soul and finally his heart : for as he gets past his sixty-eighth year, his second wife being three months dead, he makes the following entries : " Daughter Sewall acquaints Mme. Winthrop that if she is pleased to be within at 3 p. m. I would wait on her. She answered she would be at home. Had a pleasant discourse about seven single persons sitting in the fore seat. She propounded one and another for me, but none would do." The reason becomes apparent in a detailed narration of several visits to Mme. Winthrop herself, interspersed with letters and presents of sermons, in return for which he receives " a great deal of courtesy, wine, and marmalade." But one day " Mme. Winthrop's countenance was much changed and looked dark and lowering. I prayed there might be no more thunder and lightning. I should not sleep all night." Later : " I go 6o American Literature to Mme. Winthrop's having Dr. Sibb's * Bowels' with me to read. She came in after a good while " and dismissed him coldly, " with no wine, as I can remember. The Lord will provide." He does provide. Widow Mary Gibbs is the next recipient of glazed almonds, cakes, paper, ink, wafers, sermons and proposals of marriage, and she accepts. On the 29th of March, 1722, he makes this entry : " Samuel Sewall and Mrs. Mary Gibbs were joined together in marriage by the Rev. Mr. William Cooper. Mr. Sewall prayed once. Next Lord's day "sat with my wife in her Pue," and the day after brought her home to my House," and the next Sunday " introduced her to my Pue, and sat with her there/* and the following Sabbath " Conducted my wife to the Fore-Seat, having been invited by the overseers." One or two other entries show the way the judge and the world went on in the years from 1724. April 5th. ** The Ways are dry, and the Weather moderat, so that I comfortably goe to the solemn Assembly Forenoon and Afternoon : Hear my Son preach from the first Commandment. My Wife wore her new Gown of Sprig'd Persian." *' May 1, After Lecture I heard the good News of Andrew Harradine and others rising up and subjugating Phillips the Pirat. ... I went to the funeral of Widow Jane Bowdry, a courteous, well spoken Woman, and good Christian." " May 3. Pirats are brought in this day from Cape Anne." " Satterday, Set out for Ipswich in Mr. Hopkin's Calash, Madam GilPs White Horse; Got to Salem by fair Day-light." Tuesday Aug. 11th, "Mr. Cooper tells me that the Corpora- tion meet this day at Cambridge to chuse a President; fears they know not one another's minds. Went to Tom Cowell's Funeral." 22nd, ** The * Sheerness * comes up, and Capt. Harman with his Neridgwack Scalps at which there is great Sewall's Diary and Mather's Magnalia 6i Shouting and Triumph. The Lord help us to rejoice with Trembling.'' On Aug. 2, " Madam Winthrop was buried. Will be much missed : After the Funeral went and wished Col. Fitch joy of his daughter's marriage with Mr. James Allen. Had good Bride-Cake, good Wine, Burgundy and Canary, good Beer, Oranges, Pears." Thus the devout, kindly, hopeful, exact judge wrote in his lengthening diary for half a century, mixing his weddings and his funerals, his court sessions and Sunday sermons, his Indians and pirates, amassing material to fill three goodly volumes — the fifth, sixth and seventh in the Massachusetts Historical Society Collection. They con- tain the minute history of Samuel Sewall, tutor, librarian, preacher of one sermon two and a half hours long, member of the governor's council and judge of the colonial court. Of his official life he records less than of his personal experiences — bodily, social, and spiritual. Even about the famous witch trials, where he was one of the judges, he wrote but little, repenting afterward of his share in the widespread delusion of the age. As literature these records have less value than as history, but for interest to Americans they must always surpass the famous diaries of his English contemporaries, Evelyn and Pepys. The name of Mather was a mighty one at the close of the seventeenth century. It began to ascend the religious and literary firmament in 1640, with Richard, and passed through the constellations of Increase, Cotton, and Samuel. In Cotton it blazed with midday splendor, and the " Mag- nalia Christi Americana " has not yet faded from sight, like most of the three hundred and eighty titles attributed to this champion bookmaker of a prolific tribe. In fact. 62 American Literature a good-sized family library was manufactured by successive Mathers in four generations. The " Magnalia " is a landmark which may divide the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, reviewing as it does Mather's ^^^ England history from its beginnings to "Magnalia." -j^ggg^ ^^ -^^ ^.^^^ iudicatcs, "mighty ex- ploits " may be looked for in its sixteen hundred and sixty pages. The book itself was a heroic performance for a young man of thirty-four, though he was born old. None of his other works was of such consequence in his own esteem. The labor of two years was closed with a day of thanksgiving for ability to finish it : its passage to England was followed by fastings and prayers. There was another thanksgiving when, after five years, the printed folio arrived. The introductory laudations, epi- grams, anagrams, and pindarics by its admirers show that it was an epoch-making volume. Its contents comprise the discovery of America and the settlement of New England ; the lives of chief men in the colony, magistrates and divines ; the history of Harvard college ; the faith and order of the churches; wonderful providences and the wars of the Lord — that is, afflictions and disturb- ances, mercies and deliverances of New England. Any chapter reveals the characteristics and attainments of a man who was born in a library and fed upon books, who read Latin and Greek authors at ten and devoured big English volumes with two bites ; whose memory was a vast cold storage for useful and useless knowledge, which he dispensed with lavish prodigality and garnished with the spoils of ancient classics. Old Burton himself is not a greater spendthrift of quotations, and his " Anatomy of Melancholy" might be the model in division and sub- Sewall's Diary and Mather's Magnalia 6;^ division after which the "Magnalia" was built. Boston in particular inspires his pen. In his " Bostonian Eben- ezer " he says : — " Our town is now threescore and eight years old, and certainly it is time for us to set up our Ebenezer. . . Truly, there hath not one year passed over this town, 'Ab Urbe Condita,' upon the story whereof we might not make that note, our ' Ebenezer.' It is from thy watchful protection, O thou Keeper of Boston, who neither slumbers nor sleeps. . . . Old Boston, by name, was but St. Botolph's town. Thou, Boston, shalt have but one protector in heaven. Eejoice in him alone and say, * The Lord is my fortress and deliverer.' Old pagan towns were sometimes mighty solicitous to conceal the name of the particular God that they counted their protector. Ne ab hostibus Evocatus, alio commigraret. But I shall be far from doing my town any damage by publishing the name of its protector, for among the gods there is none like unto thee, Lord." In this style he rolls on, his chariot wheels fluttering with scraps from Moses and the prophets, from the classics and the fathers, in Latin, in Greek, in Hebrew ; while, towering majestic in wig and gown, he conducts a triumph through the streets of his beloved Boston with the plunder of all the ages and dis- pensations lumbering after him. No wonder that Dan- forth of Dorchester inscribed in this book : " Art thou heaven's trumpet 1 sure by the archangel blown ; Tombs crack, dead start, saints rise, all seen and known, And shine in constellation. From ancient flames here 's a new phoenix flown, To show the world when Christ returns he '11 not return alone." Hero worship two hundred years ago ran in ecclesiasti- cal and literary channels, and the height of its adulation 64 American Literature has not been since transcended. But Mather was equally- generous with the worthies he embalmed in his sonorous prose — Thomas Hooker for instance: — "When Toxaris met with his countryman Anacharsis in Athens, he gave him this invitation, " Come along with me and I will show thee the wonders of Greece," whereupon he showed him Solon as the person in whom there centred all the glories of that city or country. I shall now invite my reader to behold at once the wonders of New England and it is in one Thomas Hooker that he shall behold them, our celeb- rious Hooker, whom I may call, as Theodoret called Irenaeus, the light of the western churches." Mather was pedantic, but it had been fashionable since King James' reign to embellish all literary fabrics with old jewels, and what would have become of Cotton Mather if he had not disgorged some of the treasures he was continually swallowing ? In this, as in his discoursings on witchcraft, some allowance should be made for the age in which he lived. Its tastes and standards and beliefs were not ours ; but, according to its own. Cotton Mather was one of the "illustrious providences," and the principal man of his time, the perfected fruit of Puritanism — godly, learned, superstitious, narrow, fantastic. No other single writer has furnished so complete an account of the Puritan age, and the student of its history will find his interest divided between what Mather has to relate, the diversified manner of his narrations, and the variety of his acquire- ments. Por example, he published two hundred years ago " La Eeligion Pura," an essay to convey religion into the Spanish isles, an early instance and prophecy of American expansiveness. Out of 60 vast a repository "£ the *'Magnalia" para- SewaU's Diary and Mather's Magnalia 65 graphs might be taken at random to illustrate the manner of this Behemoth of the mid-colonial era ; but perhaps nothing outside of his eulogies of contemporaries is more representative of the man and his style than his pronun- ciamento upon the qualities of an historian and a writer. It certainly indicates the standard which many would have been proud to attain in his day. " Reader ! I have done the part of an impartial historian, albeit not without all occasion perhaps, for the rule which a worthy writer, in his Historica^ gives to every reader, Historica legantur cum moderatione et venia, etc. Poly bins complains of those historians who always made the Carthaginians brave, or the Romans base, as their affection for their own party led them. I have endeavoured, with all good conscience to decline writing for a party, or doing like the dealer in History whom Lucian derides for always calling the captain of his own party an Achilles, but of the adverse party a Thersites : nor have I added unto the just provocations for complaint made by the Baron Maurier, that the greatest part of Histories are but so many panegyricks composed by interested hands, which elevate iniquity to the heavens, like Paterculus and Machiavel, who propose Tiberius Caesar and Caesar Borgia as examples fit for imitation, whereas true History would have exhibited them as horrid monsters — as very devils. 'T is true I am not of the opinion that one cannot merit the name of an impartial his- torian except he write bare matters of fact without all reflection ; for I can tell where to find this given as the definition of His- tory, — Historia est rerum gestarum, cum laude aut vituperatione narratio : and if I am not altogether a Tacitus, when vertues or vices occur to be matters of reflection as well as relation, I will, for my vindication appeal to Tacitus himself, whom Lipsius calls one of the prudentest (though Tertullian long before, counts him one of the lyingest) of them who have enriched the world with History. . . . But how can the lives of the com- mendable be written without commending them ; or, is that law 5 66 American Literature of History, given in one of the eminentest pieces of antiquity we now have in our hands, wholly antiquated, * Maxime pro- prium est Historice^ Laudem rerum egregie gestarum persequi ? ' etc. etc." And of style, especially of quotation, he says : " These embellishments (of which yet I only — Veniani pro laude peto) are not the puerile spoils of Polyanthea's ; but I should have asserted them to be as choice flowers as most that occur in ancient or modern writings, almost unavoidably putting themselves into the author's hand, while about his work, if those words of Ambrose had not a little frighted me, as well as they did Baronius, Unumquemque Fallunt sua scripta." So far, — and it might be added, so little, of the pedantic scholar. But to see Cotton Mather in all his glory one should read his eulogy on some minister or magistrate of New England. Here is a brick from the mausoleum which he raised to Sir William Phipps : "So obscure was the original of that memorable person, whose actions I am going to relate, that I must, in a way of writing like Plutarch, prepare my reader for the intended rela- tion by first searching the archives of antiquity for a parallel. Now, because we will not parallel him with Eumenes, who though he were the son of a poor carrier, became a govemour of mighty provinces; nor with Marius, whose mean parentage did not hinder his becoming a glorious defender of his country, and seven times the chief magistrate of the chiefest city in the universe; nor with Iphicrates, who became a successful and renowned general of a great people, though his father were a cobbler ; nor with Dioclesian, the son of a poor scrivener ; nor with Bonosus, the son of a poor schoolmaster, who yet came to sway the scepter of the Roman empire ; nor, lastly, will I com- pare him to the more late example of Mazarini, who, though no gentleman by his extraction, and one so sorrily educated that he might have wrote man before he could write at all ; yet ascended Sewall's Diary and Mather's Magnalia 67 unto that grandeur, in the memory of many yet living, as to umpire the most important afifairs of Christendom : we will decline looking any further in the hemisphere of the world, and make the * hue and cry ' throughout the regions of America, the New World, which he that is becoming the subject of our history, by his nativity, belonged unto. . . . My reader being now satisfied that a person's being obscure in his original is not always a just prejudice to an expectation of considerable matters from him, I shall now inform him that this our Phipps was born Feb. 2, a. d. 1650, at a despicable plantation on the river of Kennebeck, and almost the furthest village of the eastern settlement of New England." After such an array of the obscure-great to stand around the cradle of the infant Phipps, one can imagine to what heights his biographer would elevate him before and when he attained the dignity of knighthood for services rendered the crown. Accordingly through sixty- five large octavo pages he sets forth the exploits and virtues of this Massachusetts knight and closes with this panegyrftj strain: "As the Cyprians buried their friends in honey, to whom they gave gall when they were born ; thus whatever gall might be given to this gentleman while he lived, I hope none will be so base as to put anything but honey into their language of him now after his decease. . . . The name of Sir William Phipps will be heard honourably mentioned in the trumpets of immortal fame, when the names of many that antipathied him will either be buried in eternal oblivion, without any sacer vates to preserve them or be remembered like that of Judas in the gospel, or Pilate in the creed, with eternal infamy." And then as if this exalting prose were not enough he adds: "But Poetry as well as History must pay its dues to him. If Cicero's poem intituled * Quadrigce* wherein he did with 68 American Literature poetical chariot extol the exploits of Caesar in Britain to the very skies, were now extant in the world, I would have borrowed some flights of that at least, for the subject now to be adorned. Bat instead thereof, let the reader accept the following Elegy : " Kejoice Messieurs ; Netops rejoice Ye, Philistines, none will rejoice but you ; Our almanacs foretold a great eclipse This they foresaw not of our greater Phipps." And thus through eighty lines, ending: " Write now his epitaph, [New England] 't will be thine own, Let it be this, a ' Publick Spirit's Gone.* Or name but Phipps ; more needs not be exprest ; Both Englands, and next ages tell the rest." One other phase of this remarkable intellect must suffice for those who cannot turn over the books of the " Mag- nalia " or some of the other three hundred and eighty-odd titles under which he wrote, more or less. When he launches into "Preternatural Occurrences" and the "In- visible World " his credulity is equalled only by his curious lore ; for example : — "In the year 1679 the house of William Morse, at Newbury, was infested with demons after a most horrid manner. Bricks^ and sticks and stones were often by some invisible hand thrown at the house ; a cat was thrown at the woman of the house, and a long staff danced up and down in the chimney and when two persons laid it on the fire to burn it, it was as much as they were able to do with their joint strength to hold it there. An iron crook was violently by an invisible hand hurl'd about, a chest carry'd from one place to another, the keys of the family- taken, ashes thrown into their suppers, shoes filled with ashes and coals, — yea while the man was at prayer with his house- hold a besom gave him a blow on his head : while the man was writing his inkhorn was by the invisible hand snatched from him. He had his cap torn oflf his head, and he was pulled by Sewall's Diary and Mather's Magnalia 69 the hair, and pinched, and scratched and pricked with needles, etc., etc., [with thirteen other examples given at great length ending with this definition cited horn Wierius de Proestigiis Dcemonum :] * A witch is a person that having the free use of reason doth knowingly and willingly seek and obtain of the devil, or any other god, besides the true God Jehovah, an ability to do or know strange things which he cannot by his own human abilities arrive unto.' " Many such were said to be found in New England during the last half of the seventeenth century, as else- where, and nineteen supposed witches were executed, some with the approval of Cotton Mather. There are other writings of this closing period of the century which are in the same vein — narrative, contro- versial and marvellous. Some, like Peter Folger, tried to revive the Pilgrim spirit ; others, with William Hubbard and Matthew Mahew, wrestled with the still unsettled Indian problem, as Eliot did with their language and morals, translating for their improvement several books, like "Baxter's Call to the Unconverted," and writing a " Logic Primer for the Use of Indians " ! Increase Mather wrote on " The Unlawfulness of Common Prayer Worship " and the " Divine Eight of Infant Baptism." George Keith found the churches of New England to be no true church, and James Allen defended the churches against the cal- umnies of George Keith. Daniel Leeds wrote " News of a Trumpet Sounding in the Wilderness," and Joshua Scottow " Old Men's Tears for Their Own Declensions," and John Mason " A Brief History of the Pequot War." Then there is the usual flood of eulogies and elegies on the " much-to-be-deplored death of that never-to-be-forgotten person, Eev. Mr. 70 American Literature Nathaniel Collins," or Thomas Shepherd, or that " Pattern and Patron of Virtue, Anne Bradstreet." The eulogy and epitaph of the century itself and its literature here might he extracted from such an elegy as B. Thompson wrote upon " the Very Reverend Samuel Whiting, who departed in the eighty-third year of his peregrination " : " Laetantius, by Cyrian, Basil too, the great ; Quaint Jerom, Austin of the foremost seat, With Ambrose, and more of the highest class, In Christ's great school, with honor I let pass, And humbly pay my debt to Whiting's ghost. Of whom both Englands may with reason boast/' But then, the clerical factor in early American litera^ ture, and politics, too, had no reason to be unconscious of itself, and was seldom oppressed with diffidence. vn BOOKS OF TRAVEL The colonial era is conveniently divided into two periods by the beginning of the eighteenth century. There is, to be sure, no immediate change in literary forms crossing the or spirit, but this is true of most transitions. Century Lme. On one side of the intercentury line Samuel Willard dis- played " The Peril of the Times " and William Southeby lifted up his " Testimony Against Prophaneness in Phila- delphia." On the other, Cotton Mather drops *' American Tears Upon the Kuins of the Greek Churches," and In- crease, his father, deplores that " The Glory of the Lord Is Departing From New England," while John Hale shows " How Persons Guilty of Witchcraft May be Con- victed " — a belated attempt to prolong an old agony, and this, too, in spite of Robert Calef's protest against the madness of the age in his " More Wonders of the Invisible World." In this he showed that there are other marvels that might be dragged into the service of fanaticism, and that those which had kindled the popular frenzy are as harmless as these. It was the outspoken, common sense rebuke of a layman and business man to the speculations and superstitions of ministers and magistrates, calling a halt to their destructive credulity. It threw these worthies into a fuming rage, in which they poured vials of wrath upon the author and burned his book with dire 71 72 American Literature maledictions in the yard of Harvard College, since he had reproved President Wadsworth, and Cotton Mather, and other ministers for their share in persecuting witches, so called. To the President of Harvard College : Reverend Sir : — After that dreadful and severe persecution of such a multitude of people, under the notion of witches, which, in the day thereof, was the sorest trial and affliction that ever befel this country ; and after many of the principal actors had declared their fears and jealousies, that they had greatly erred in those prosecutions ; and after a solemn day of fasting had been kept, and after most people were convinced of the evil of those actions ; at such a time as this it might have been expected that the ministers would make it their work to explain the scriptures to their people; and from thence to have shown them the evil and danger of those false notions which in a blind zeal hurried them into those unwarrant- able practices, and so to prevent a falling into the like for the future. But instead of this, for a minister of the gospel (pastor of the old meeting) to abet such notions, and to stir up the magistrates to such persecutions, and this without any cautions given, is what is truly amazing, and of most dangerous consequence. . . . And if blood shall be required of that watchman that seeth the sword coming, and gives not the need- ful warning, how much more of such as join with the enemy, to bring in the sword to destroy them over whom he was placed a watchman ! " . And then under the caption "Matters of Fact" he gives such an account in a diary of events relating to the accusation and trial and execution of one and another victims of ministerial and magisterial zeal as an eye- witness might give who was not carried away with the general delusion. There is no more vivid picture of that unhappy time. For example: Books of Travel 73 *^ March 21 [1691]. Good wife Cory was examined before the magistrates of Salem at the meeting house in the village, a throng of spectators being present to see the novelty. Mr. Noyes, one of the ministers of Salem, began with prayer. The number of afflicted were at that time about ten. These were most of them present at the examination, and did vehemently accuse her of afflicting them by biting, pinching, strangling, etc., and they said they did in their fits see her likeness coming to them, and bringing a book for them to sign. Mr. Hathorne, a magistrate of Salem [whom his descendant has immortalized] asked her ' Why she afflicted these children 1 ' " and then follows the rest of the examination, ending with remanding to prison of the accused. Enough has been cited to show that one sensible man was not affected with that other malady of the time — a stilted affectation of style which, like the witchcraft delusion, was epidemic. Notwithstanding the prevailing sombreness the opening of the eighteenth century is illuminated by a bar of light shot through the general gloom. Colonists began to get beyond the confines of their make ^ to J Excursions. native towns, and to see other people than their next neighbors. Charles Wolley writes " A Two Years' Journal in New York," and Sarah Kemble Knight records her adventures during a journey on horseback from Boston to New Haven, New York, and returning. George Keith writes "A Journal of Travels in North America," and Rev. John Williams an account of his forced march to Canada with Indian captors and his subsequent ransom under the scriptural title of " The Eedeemed Captive Returning to Zion," that is, to Deerfield, Massachusetts. Thus in one way and another a new feature is added to the literature that had been growing 74 American Literature up around the meeting-house and the fireside, the pillory and the gallows. This last book, for instance, full of suffering on a bloodstained trail over snow and ice to Montreal is, nevertheless, not without its shrewd observation of things and men, which must have been a revelation to those who had not been personally con- ducted by savages into a Koman Catholic country. The heroism with which the unwilling pilgrims bore the distress of the journey and their devout trust in Provi- dence are equalled by the steadfastness with which they resisted all efforts to make them attend mass, or to sign themselves with the sign of the cross. It was an opportunity to show what Puritanism could do and dare under fire, as it had already shown what it would do on the throne. But incidentally its views were en- larged by going into the Frenchman's country and dis- covering that " papistry " could at least be polite and kindhearted upon occasion. Mme. Knight in her excursion along shore did not always find the same qualities among her countrymen. To New ^^^ itinerary is a revelation of country and ^°^^' town life in four colonies. It contains graphic accounts of bumpkin guides, pork and cabbage dinners, a bed next the bar-room, river fording, country stores and their customers, rigid laws against kissing on Simday, hard fare at a French inn, the charms of a New York vendue and of the people who lived in tiled houses, hospitable and sociable, civil and courteous, and who atoned for not keep- ing the sabbath with Boston"^trictness by exact dealing in business. Doubtless her account was part of a liberal education to the Bostonese " who came flocking in to hear the story of my transactions and travails, I having this Books of Travel 75 day been five months from home." It may now be read in the fair copy printed in Albany in 1865. Charles WoUey was another for whom New York had numerous attractions, clergyman of the English church though he was, and finding "ministers scarce and relig- ions many." While he observes the shy and uncharitable spirit of these preachers, "as if Luther and Calvin had bequeathed and entailed their virulent and ifncharitable spirit upon them, and not interchanging visits for five years together," still he must acknowledge their great fluency in speaking Latin on an occasion when he got them together and forbade the use of any other tongue. Of the New York townspeople he remarks that their principal diversion is " aurigation — i. e., riding about in wagons, which is allowed by physicians to be a very healthful exercise" — still followed by their descendants. Mentioning other pastimes, he concludes that "It's a place so very inviting that our gentry, merchants, and clergy (especially such as have the natural stamina of a consumptive propagation in them or an hypochondriacal consumption) flock there for self-preservation." Such a sanatorium was the Dutch-English metropolis in 1701. George Keith, a missionary sent out by the English church, was about as much of an American as John Smith, staying here two years, travelling from New Hampshire to North Carolina, and writing an account of his professional tournaments with Quakers and others. At the end, however, he adds : " In all places where we travelled and preached we found the people generally well affected to the doctrine we preached among them, and they did generally join with us in the liturgy of the Church as we had occasion to use it." 7^ American Literature Three days before the incoming of the eighteenth cen- tury John Lawson, gent, and surveyor general of North Andinthe Carolina, started on a thousand-mile journey ^°"*^' among Indian tribes, of which he wrote and published a sprightly account. In it he attributes the lack of good reports by travellers in this country to the fact that they are for the most part "persons of the meaner sort and generally of a very slender education, uncapable of giving any reasonable account of curiosities worthy a nice observation." With such tourists from England — a race not yet extinct — he contrasts the learned observers sent out by the king of France and their journals of travel from Canada to the Mississippi. Then, dedicating his work to three noblemen and the rest of the lords proprietors, he begins his story at Charleston, whence he voyages with nine companions by sea and river, encountering game and mosquitoes, savages with rum and without it, wild cattle and hogs very lean, con- trary currents and cold weather, plenty of furs and good bargains. The aboriginal customs particularly interest him, especially the silence of the women, upon which he remarks: "Would some of our European daughters of thunder set these Indians for a pattern." Upon the subject of their cookery he does not wax so eloquent. Among the "insects" of North Carolina he mentions alligators, rattlesnakes, tortoise, and terrapin, giving a vivid description of these and twenty other "insects," in- cluding vipers, scorpions, and frogs. His lists of fish and fowl are more appetizing. Altogether his view of the country and its inhabitants is remarkably cheerful and his portrayals unreserved, conveying the impression that the Carolina savages were pleasanter fellows to meet than Books of Travel 77 their Iroquois cousins. But this was before they burnt him at the stake in 1712. John Lawson certainly jus- tified his claim to a place beside the French narrators and to the title of gentleman. Another " gent.," Ebenezer Cook by name, in 1708 pub- lished " The Sot Weed Factor ; or, a Voyage to Maryland, a Satyr," in burlesque verse. It is another impression which colonial life made upon Englishmen, this time upon one who was outwitted in a tobacco bargain. Still, these Hudibrastic lines must have been inspired by something more than the fancy of a man who could write such stuff. As in Connecticut, so in Maryland, colonial modes of living must have been crude amidst great abundance, and in the latter province amidst a flood of strong waters. Justice, too, was on the side of the home-born.. Therefore this satire was on the side of the swindled stranger, who flings back to the eastern shore the following adieu : '* May cannibals transported o'er the sea Prey on these slaves, as they have done on me ; May never merchants' trading sail explore This cruel, this inhospitable shore. But left abandon'd by the world to starve, May they sustain the' fate they well deserve " and other calamities fit for Americans who were already developing a commercial shrewdness which was to give the British trader great uneasiness in the immediate future. It was by the native traveller that the colonies were coming to know each other preparatory to federation and ultimate union. And the foreign traveller by his " impres- sions " published in London was contributing to the same result in another way. One such traveller became an indirect contributor to our literature. 78 American Literature John Oldmixon, historian and pamphleteer, was publish- ing his " British Empire in America " when Kobert Beverly of Virginia, being in London in 1703, saw advance sheets containing an account of Virginia and Carolina. Eeading these, he discovered so many misstatements that he under- took to write an account of his own country, " because it had been so misrepresented to the common people of England." He then specifies wherein the English author had blundered. It is consoling to note that colonial geog- raphy was as great a puzzle to the native Briton as that of " the States " is to-day ; as when Oldmixon remarks that the Indians at the head of Chesapeake Bay pass the frontier of Virginia in going to New York, and that the James river lies southward of that bay. It is a source of wonder to the Englishman — and of amusement to the American — "what became of the camels brought to Virginia by Guinea ships," of which Beverly had never heard. These and a score of similar errors the American traveller sums up with the remark : " How unfaithful and fruitless must such a historian be who can upon guesswork introduce such falsities for truth and bottom them upon such bold assertions ! " An exclamation which to this day occasion- ally goes up from the American reader of English notes of travel through the United States — by way of the Canadian Pacific railway. However, these ancient geo- graphical and other slips may be pardoned for the sake of the history of Virginia, which they provoked Beverly to write. A hundred years had passed since John Smith sent his Beveri 's advertisement of the country and its resources History. ^ ^-^^ Londou compauy. Beverly undertook to give an account of the progress the colony had made Books of Travel 79 in the century. He becomes the first writer of its natural and political history. He tells again the story of its settlement, recounts the coming and going of royal governors, the arrival of Lord Baltimore in Maryland, the Berkeley and Bacon scrimmage, the spread of religious sectaries, the restraint put upon commerce and tobacco- raising, the taxing of lawyers and schoolmasters, wine and liquors, the internal disorders, the projecting of a college to teach languages, divinity, and natural philosophy — all seasoned with spicy details of the prolific fertility of the land, of cornering pirates, and of the "natural conven- iences of Virginia before the English went thither," its waters and soils and their products, animal, mineral, and vegetable, fish, fowl, and noble game. Finally, in the third book, he discourses upon the never-failing topic of the English colonist — the Indians, their religion, laws, and customs, in war and in peace, illustrated by rude cuts which leave nothing for the imagination, because appended explanations tell what each figure represents. For ex- ample, " This is a man and his wife at dinner. Figure 1 is a pot boiling with hominy and fish ; 2 is a bowl of corn, which they gather up in their fingers to feed themselves ; 3 is the tomahawk, which he lays by at dinner." But this explicitness is of a piece with all the book — the honest endeavor of a Virginian in London to correct mis- apprehensions about his native country. His book is full of the subject, like himself. He knows what he is talking about ; the other man did not. Accordingly he will set him and all England right on a matter where there was great liability to be wrong. It was no fault of his if they continued to blunder. vni ESSAYS, NEWSPAPERS, AND ALMANACS In the first quarter of the eighteenth century old literary patterns were melting to be cast into new moulds. Some of them were slow to sink and stubbornly kept their antique shape amidst the general fusion. Others floated in sight as dross and slag after their substance was gone. The most notable example of persistent survival of old- time artificiality was the ceaseless production of the Mathers, ending, apparently, only with their lives. In- crease Mather had just turned out his " Elijah's Mantle " and Cotton his " Impressions Produced by Earthquakes " when they both were translated to another world, having discoursed on most terrestrial and many celestial subjects here. In verse Nicholas Noyes had attained the heights of the fantastic in appropriate elegies on contemporary worthies like John Higginson, who, he sang : " For rich array cared not a fig. And wore Elisha's periwig, Before he went among the dead He children's children's children had." Or like Joseph Green : " In Grod's house we late did see A Green and growing olive tree. His Master's work he did so ply, He did but just get time to die." These masters of quibbling contortion had admirers and imitators, who may all be dismissed with other antique 80 Essays, Newspapers, and Almanacs 8i spinning wheels of verse and prose to the storeroom of colonial curiosities. A new style came in with Jeremiah Dummer. The elders had great hopes of him in the pulpit, but he was too fine-spun to follow their traditions. The Dummer. ideals of the seventeenth century were gettmg stale and its idols shopworn. The spirit of a new era was in the air outside the unventilated meeting-house, and the promising graduate of Harvard in the class of '99, two centuries ago, got a sniff of it. He did his best to satisfy a Boston congregation, but an essay is not a sermon. Yet the essay had arrived and was henceforward to share attention with the sermon. The first number of the "Spectator" was about to be printed, and the youthful prodigy who had disappointed critical listeners found himself in London in time to read Addison's account of his own life in the issue of March 1, 1710. Henceforth, as agent of Massachusetts, his associations were with its politics rather than its theology, and in his " Letter to a Noble Lord," concerning the late expedition to Canada, he makes the transition from divinity to a statesmanship which was soon to become conspicuous in America. To this he afterward contributed his " Defense of New Eng- land Charters," a forerunner of the state papers which preceded the Declaration of Independence. It was re- printed thirty-eight years later as applicable to colonial issues in the days of the pre-revolution controversy with Great Britain. All that need be said of it here is that its style shows the author's acquaintance with contemporary writings in England, and that he was willing to be taught by them. His predecessors had not been. In separatist isolation they were a law and a pattern unto themselves 82 American Literature and each other through all the preceding century. With one or two exceptions they turned their backs upon polite literature and set their faces as a flint against Tudor and Stuart belles-lettres. Mosaic in their law, they became Hebraic in their literature. When they laid the founda- tions of empire in the stern righteousness of the Penta- teuch they did well ; but to build a literature upon the archaic style of the law and the prophets was to go back twenty-five centuries. It is by no means necessary to confound these two achievements or to say that they won equal distinction in theocratic politics and in letters, or that their books will live except as curiosities, and as they may belong to the building of a nation. No doubt this last was a higher occupation than creating an immortal literature, but the one process is not the other, nor often coincident with the other. Good literature may follow good government afar. It began to appear early in the eighteenth century, and this Jeremiah Dummer was the prophet of its coming, if not its pioneer. His associations in London may not have been fortunate, but he must have been as open to literary influences from the works of Dryden and Swift, Addison and Steele, as to social and political sway by Lord Bolingbroke and the Tories. In any case what he wrote is a pleasant contrast to contemporary writings here, of which Cotton Mather's " Essays to Do Good " is likely to survive the longest, since Benjamin Franklin acknowledged his indebtedness to it. So Benjamin Wadsworth's " Dissuasion from Tavern Hunting and Excessive Drinking," written for the benefit of Harvard students, may still have its value for their successors and for other students by reason of its precepts rather than for its literary worth. Essays, Newspapers, and Almanacs 83 A mighty man in his day was John Wise, the Ipswich parson who scented prelacy in the slightest suggestion of Presbyterianism, and smashed a conspiracy against church independency with a single blow of his Thor hammer under the mild title of " The Churches' Quarrel Exposed." It is a fine example of surviving Puritan polemics, containing strong arguments enforced by strong words. Cotton Mather and others had made a series of " pro- posals" which squinted away from the independency of each congregation in ordering its own affairs and pronounc- ing upon its own minister, who in theory at least was to be chosen from its own ranks. To one of these proposals, that an association of ministers should be the judge of a candidate's fitness, after hearing him preach, this defender of the primitive faith replies as follows, after a preliminary compliment to academical learning : " What can a sermon do at deciding this question ? for that the most sensible and valuable, who are usually the most hum- ble and tender are liable by this stupendous examination, to be baffled by their own temerity, and quite dashed out of coun- tenance by their own fear. Alas ! upon their first entrance upon the stage, to appear in so august and awful a presence, as having in their minds the resemblance of their going into the Spanish Inquisition, rather than dwelling amongst the softer measures of the gospeh Luther himself hardly ever got over something of a panic fear attending him through the course of his ministry ; and, indeed, men of the quickest senses are most liable to these paroxysms. Then surely to put our tyros to this test, which may daunt and dispirit the greatest hero, is noways proportionable. . . . Indeed the bold and brazen man who can make a greater figure with half the stock by many shirking tricks and dissembling artifices, defended and supported with 84 American Literature confidence and delivery, may obtain the euge juvenis tliat they noways deserve. To conclude, as the proverb is, * one swallow makes not the spring.' So in this trial, one good or mean sermon cannot determine the man, or umpire his case." Stronger language is used when the peril to the ancient order appears imminent. The associations of the clergy, he says, began in their meeting to pray for deliverance from Indian depredations and other afflictions, but these meetings came to be more and more like ecclesiastical conventions with, incidental ambitions for office, and he breaks out: " Alas ! Alas ! empire and supreme rule is a glorious thing ! Now this conceit did begin pretty much to predominate, especially in some gentlemen that were inclined to Presbyterian principles, who improving their advantages of sense and influence to intrigue others of a lower set of intellectuals, brought the business so near to a conclusion as you find it in this proposal. When they had thus far advanced and ripened their design, out comes these proposals, like Aaron's golden calf, the fifth day of November, 1705." He remembers that this is the anniversary of the " Gun- powder-treason day," and exclaims, "Why, gentlemen! have you forgot it ? — a fatal day to traitors." And the golden calf reminds him of " that great and terrible beast with seven heads and ten horns, which was nothing else a few ages ago but just such another calf as this is . . . now grown to be such a mad, furious, and wild bull that there is scarce a potentate in the world that dare take this beast by the horns when he begins to bounce and bellow. Therefore to conclude, and infer, ohsta principus ! It is wisdom to nip such growths in the bud, and keep down by early slaughter such a breed of cattle." Essays, Newspapers, and Almanacs 85 It is said that this "excoriating satire recalled the churches to the first principles of Congregationalism, and reseated them on their ancient platform more firmly than ever for the next sixty years." It was republished by the Congregational Board of Publication, Boston, 1860. It is a comment on the joyousness of our ancestors' childhood that the precocious Hannah Hill, an authoress at the age of eleven, wrote a " Legacy for Children : Last Expressions and Dying Words." Fortunately that very year " The Origin of the Whalebone Petticoat " appeared, a satire by a writer who did not dare to affix his name to such a piece of unseemly mirth. Moreover, it was not only a grave age, but a warlike one. The fruitful Mather was writing his second " Luctuosum, or Mournful Dec- ade " on the recent Indian wars, while Thomas Church recorded "Entertaining Passages Eelating to Philip's War," — such as chopping off captives' heads and bringing them home. Thus, with solemn mirth and glad grimness, that generation fought and wrote. It was a day when Mather knocked the rhymed ends off the Psalmody and made it still more Hebraic by blank verse. He held, with some later critics, that rhyme is a cheap device, not essen- tial to true poetry, a conclusion to which he might have been driven by some of the discordant endings in the Bay Psalm Book. Belief from its droning misery came to children — on week days only — in the publication of "Mother Goose's Melodies "in 1719, and for grown-ups once a week in the " Boston Gazette " after Dec. 21 of that year, and in the " Weekly Mercury " the next day in Philadelphia. Of these papers the "Boston News Letter" had for fifteen years been the only predecessor in the country. 86 American Literature Starting with the beginning of the century, it had marked the entry of secularism into a theological-literary atmos- Eariy phers. Now, after fifteen years, there were Newspapers, ^-^^g ^j permanence and growth for printed journalism. But the indications of its future attainment were few and feeble in the leaflets which contained little news, and old at that. Even then these eight-by-twelve half sheets were chimeras dire to legislatures and magis- trates, as containing " reflections of a very high nature." Consequently, after the first number of "Public Occur- rences" in 1690 no other paper appeared until 1704. Eighteen years after this James Franklin's " Courant " was put under the censorship of the provincial secretary for treating with contempt religion and government. That it took the side of ignorant prejudice in the inocula- tion controversy is another evidence of its antagonism to the better sentiment of the age. It behaved more wisely imder the management of James' younger and shrewder brother, Benjamin, who became the forefather of American editors, publishers, and printers. In his own day he saw thirty-seven weekly newspapers established before the Eevolution. These increased to two hundred by the end of the century, including several dailies. Next to the newspaper and outnumbering its circula- tion was the almanac. In these days of calendars on The every wall it is not easy to understand the Almanac. importance of the almanac in colonial house- holds. With the Bible it constituted the entire library of many families. Successive numbers hung from a string by the chimney or ranked by years and generations on cupboard shelves. If much perusal is the test of litera- ture, no ancient or modem classic could compete success- Essays, Newspapers, and Almanacs 87 fully with these mixtures of dates and mystic hieroglyphs, figures and facts, wit and wisdom, scraps of verse and selected prose. Their range was from the barnyard to the stars, from Eabelais to Solomon. They brought to the farmer and the fisherman, the mason and the car- penter, chips from a world-wide literature. The almanac was their cyclopedia, gazetteer, and literary storehouse. Little fault was to be found with it as far as it went. American almanacs were purged of the astrological non- sense which had made foreign year-books attractive since Mohammed's hegira. Still there were things which the colonist would not undertake in the wane of the moon or when the sign was below the heart. But he would read his almanac on every day of the year — Sundays excepted. In this he had the example of kings, queens, and cour- tiers, whose daily companion was the expensive calendar of Purbeck or Eegiomontanus as far back as Columbus' day, when better reading was scarce and readers few. This was somewhat the case when in 1725 Nathaniel Ames published his astronomical diary, and when the FrankliQ brothers followed him with the Ehode Island and Philadelphia imitations a little later. In an almanac compiled by " Benjamin West, Philomath, in Providence 1765, printed and sold by William Goddard, at the Print- ing Office near the Great Bridge," there is the following " Advertisement " looking toward the economics of litera- ture and home production : "As the present embarrassed condition of the Trade of these Northern Colonies renders it utterly impossible for us to pay for the large Quantities of Goods that are annually imported from Great Britain, it is reasonable to suppose, that every Attempt to lessen the Demand for such Goods, by estabUshing 88 American Literature Manufactories amongst ourselves, for the making of those Things which are really beneficial, must meet with the Approbation and Encouragement of all who wish well to this country. Amongst many laudable Endeavours in the dififerent Provinces, for the purpose aforesaid, a spirited Effort is now actually making in the Town of Providence, for carrying on a Paper Manufactory, a spacious Mill being already built, and will be speedily set to work, which, if it can obtain a proper Supply of Linen Rags, old Sail Cloth, and Junk, those being the principal Articles necessary for making that useful Commodity, it's Utility to this Part of the Country will be soon demonstrated by a Saving of some Thousand Dollars, that are annually sunk to us in the Pockets of the European Merchants. Nothing but the Industry and Erugality of this and the neighboring Colonies, in preserving and furnishing the Mill with the above Articles, can ensure its Success, and as it is a Matter worthy of Attention, it is hoped that every Family will be so frugal and industrious as to promote it in that Manner by which they will soon experience the Propriety of that old Proverb, A Penny saved is a Fenny got." " Poor Richard " deserves great praise for giving colo- nists a nibble at Swift, Defoe, Steele, Bacon, and others whose entire works would have met the fate of taxed tea in New England ports of entry. Small doses, admin- istered with proverbs and predictions, accustomed the provincial taste to contemporary classics and prepared the way for a broader cultivation and more catholic liter- ary sympathies. The camel's nose was getting under the tent and his body was sure to follow, but with camel slowness. When thousands were tasting samples of respectable literature, whose total sum was only six weeks away by trading packet, why did invoices of books run in titles of mediseval sound far on toward the nine- teenth century ? Silks and spices, teas and wines came here in abundance ; but literature was homespun or worse, Essays, Newspapers, and Almanacs 89 as the inventories and book lists of the first half of the eighteenth century show. Accordingly the day of the small almanac is not to be despised. It was not much in itself, but it baited a starved people on to a feast which they had Asauter- been accustomed to regard as Belshazzar's ban- ^*"''^ Pnmer. quet, if perchance they had heard of it at all. With the coming of the almanac, then, the hope of American letters dawned, for the author would write as he read. The grist that the colonist ground was according to the grain he put into the hopper. In the north it had been yellow maize, and white in the south ; coarse meal and hominy in both, possibly rye and Indian at best. A hundred years later he will buy wheat, raise it and make the finest flour. His gritty polemics and strong controversy and crude history will be among the curiosities of his colonial life when the American of the next century reads world-wide literature and sells his own literary products in the markets of the world. But the time is not yet. The year that the first almanac comes out Josiah Dwight sends forth his " Essay to Silence the Outcry Against Kegular Singing" and Samuel Willard his "Two Hundred and Fifty Lectures on the Shorter Catechism " and an anonymous writer his " Hoop Petticoats Arraigned and Condemned by the Light of Nature and the Law of God." John Barnard will try to make a little sunburst with his " Adventures of Philip Ashton " and " An Account of Nicholas Merrit's Escape From the Pirates," and Eoger Wolcott will perpetrate his "Poetical Meditations or Improvement of Some Vacant Hours." Let us close the period by singing with the poet one of his stanzas on "A Wounded Spirit Who Can Bear"; 90 American Literature " The fire within my conscience Is growTi so fervent and intense I cannot long its force endure, But rathfir shall my end procure : Grisly death's pale image lies On my ghastly, piercing eyes. My hands, made for my life's defence. Are ready to do violence Unto my life. And send me hence Unto that awful residence. There to be filled with that despair Of which the incipations are A wounded spirit none can bear." And all must agree with this great governor of Connec- ticut in the middle of the last century when he concludes that " These very meditations are Quite unsupportable to bear." IX TRANSITION — EDWARDS AND FRANKLIN Two distinguished Americans were contemporary writers in the second quarter of the eighteenth century, one of whom represented the culmination of the old intellectual life and the other the beginning of a new one. Jonathan Edwards was the result of four generations of philosophic theology. He illustrated what it could pro- duce under New England conditions. It had turned out the "Simple Cobler of Agawam i° onathan dwards. and the Mather dynasty. Then it seized upon a modest, serene, lovable man and a mighty intellect. In the tran- sition already begun he who might have helped it on was anchored back to the predestinarianism and fatalism of Calvin ; he prolonged the echo of its thunders for years after its fluid fires had ceased to rive and sear the souls of men. In the pulpit he would hold his hearers over the burning pit, as in the famous Enfield sermon, by a spider's thread until their groans disturbed his discourse, when he would request them to keep quiet until he had finished. To call him an eminent vivisector of the spiritual body is to apply an opprobrious epithet which this humane man does not deserve. Yet he was possessed of the fallacy, old as Egypt, that one creature has a right to torture another in the interest of religion or science. Edwards was more admirable in the field of speculative 91 92 American Literature and natural philosophy, where he attained to a European reputation. His great work on the Freedom of the Will, jjig in which he held that the will is not free, is his wntings. memorial forever. As literature, there is seen in it both the cause and the illustration of a hard and dismal style. To explain the difference between " doing what we will " and " willing what we will to do " is not productive of much beyond the intricacies, refinements, and convolutions of thought with corresponding twist- ings, turnings, and quibblings of expression. Even his sermons approach nearer to sterling qualities of speech. They are very direct in places. "The devil is waiting, the fire is ready, the furnace is hot, the flames do rage and glow. When God lets go you will drop." There is no vagueness here. He was also free from the ungainly affectations and cumbrous pedantry of a former age and its conventional artificiality. If he had followed the lib- eral lead of his predecessors in the Northampton church, and had not inquired too strictly about certain books of fiction which his young parishioners were reading, he would not have been dismissed to the Stockbridge Indians and eventually advanced to the presidency of Princeton college. But it was in his exile that he wrote the mon- umental treatise which has outlasted the labors of his parochial years. His son and biographer best sums up his literary attainments when he says: "As to elegance of composition, it is well known that the author did not make that his chief study. However, his writings have, it seems, that solid merit which has produced both to themselves and him a considerable reputation in the world, and with many an high esteem." A paragraph or two abridged from the topic "What Transition — Edwards and Franklin 93 Determines the Will," may illustrate the style which persists throughout this treatise : — " The choice of the mind never departs from that which, at that time, appears most agreeable and pleasing. If the im- mediate objects of the will are a man's own actions, then those actions which appear most agreeable to him he wills. If it be now most agreeable to him to walk, all things considered, then he now wills to walk. There is scarcely a plainer and more uni- versal dictate of the sense and experience of mankind, than that, when men act voluntarily, and do what they please, then they do what suits them best, or what is most agreeable to them. " It appears from these things, that in some sense, the will always follows the last dictate of the understanding, including the whole faculty of perception and apprehension, and not merely what is called reason or judgment. Such a dictate of reason is quite a different matter from things now appearing most agreeable. . . . " These things which I have said, may, I hope, serve, in some measure to confirm the position I laid down in the beginning of this section, viz.. That the Will is always determined by the strongest motive, etc., etc." He is generally clear in this once famous treatise, whose subject now is chiefly interesting to metaphysicians, but formerly it furnished weapons for many a fireside debate between disputatious neighbors. For more direct speech some of his sermons may be referred to. Writers on literature have been complained of for always citing the Enfield sermon ; and attention is called to others of a more hopeful and cheerful tone. But it is to be feared that for illustrations of crisp and pointed sentences, as distinguished from exact amplifications of complex thought, one will find the best examples in the discourses about a place with which Edwards had no 94 American Literature sympathy; as in the sermon on "The Torments of the Wicked in Hell, no Occasion of Grief to the Saints in Heaven." But he preached many sermons of lighter complexion. To be fair, let this sample be taken from a theme of neutral tint, — " The Preciousness of Time." He pointedly and pertinently says : — "Consider, therefore, what you have done with your past time. You are not now beginning your time, but a great deal is past and gone ; and all the wit, and power, and treasure of the universe cannot recover it. . . . Your sun is past the meridian, and perhaps just a-setting, or going into an everlasting eclipse. Consider, therefore, what account you can give of your improve- ment of your past time. How have you let the precious golden sands of your glass run ? Have you not wasted your precious moments, your precious days, your precious years 1 , , . What have you done with them 1 What is become of them all ? And if God, that hath given you your time, should now call you to an account, what account could you give to him 1 " This is pointed and personal. It does not sound like the preaching of the philosophic theology of a century and a half ago, — nor again like some of the sociological gener- alities to-day. And nothing can be plainer and clearer than its diction. It is certainly a long remove from the levia- than flounderings and blowings of fifty years before. B. Franklin, as he thriftily subscribed himself, slipped his cable with the past at an early day. The freedom Ben-amin ^^ ^^® prcss was a subjcct for posterity to talk Franklin. about, but not for the owners of the one licensed infernal machine of Massachusetts Bay, which gave them such trouble after the day that Thomas a Kempis' devout book, " Imitation of Christ," escaped the vigilance of the Transition — Edwards and Franklin 95 censors and the president of Harvard, who was bondsman for the orthodoxy of all its publications. It was 1755 before the leash was slipped from the Boston press, and then in the interest of a controversy no longer theological, but political. Before this, however, other presses had been busy. Two in New York, two in Philadelphia, and the " Virginia Gazette " were working in milder climates and with less stiffness in their joints. The printer's apprentice who had rebelled against Massachusetts supervision set up a particularly versatile hand-power press in Philadelphia. Its usefulness and adaptability were by no means limited to a weekly issue of the " Mercury." Its manager had a generous inclination to benefit his fellow men in the direction of a wider knowledge and a better literary taste. He also had an unerring perception of what they relished and of what was best for them, as well as of the profitable margin between what was wanted by the populace and what they needed. He was a born editor and publisher, successful in his aims to elevate public taste and also prosperous in this undertaking. His equally strenuous inculcation of economy and of industry and of diligence in business must be passed over here, much as it then contributed to the common welfare. His educational and literary efforts are all that can now be noticed. They began with himself. Browsing among such books as came in his way, chiefly theological and classical, with now and then a story of Indian captivity and war, he struck the first treasure in a copy of " Pilgrim's Progress " and the second in an odd volume of the " Spectator,'* which must have come here as a stowaway and was very likely the solitary representative of the English classics in Boston. However this may be, it became Franklin's instructor in 96 American Literature the art of prose writing. In the arrangement of words and the order of thoughts he compared his own meagre vocabulary and lack of sequence with the verbal wealth and logical succession in the essays of Addison and Steele. He rewrote these from memory, and noted how much they shrunk in his hands. His shortage became his gain there- after. Soon he began to show a new opulence of expression and an orderly marshalling of his ideas. Hackneyed phrases were dismissed, repetition abandoned, variety introduced. The 'prentice hand had been to Queen Anne's school and had caught the trick of composition from the wits at Button's coffee-house. Henceforth he was qualified to teach his countrymen. Anonymously at first in literary trial trips, slipped under the " Courant" office door, criticism upon which Service Yo^his hc got by cavcsdropping. Outgrowing his pro- prietor-brother, he was driven out of Boston, to the ultimate advantage of a larger constituency in Philadelphia, and finally to his own profit, after several experiences as rough as they were instructive. But the schoolmaster always came down on his feet and managed to stumble uphill. Patient, even tempered, and shrewd, he met every rivalry with one better, and " Silence Do- good " of Boston blossomed out into " The Busybody " of Philadelphia, bent on reformation of morals and recon- struction of literature. In the last he began with what his contemporaries most needed when they sat down to write, namely, plain English. The language had been sadly corrupted and distorted by preceding generations. By all accounts his neighbors used very plain speech in their conversation. He showed them that it was equally valuable in compo- Transition — Edwards and Franklin 97 Bition - — after weeding. He knew the worth of a common word rightly placed and of idiomatic vernacular. His weapon of offence and defence had a strong back of com- mon sense and a keen edge of wit. With it he clove his way through obstacles as King Kichard through the iron bar, and through popular follies as Saladin through the pillow. Ignorance laughed on at its own neat decapita- tion, not knowing that its head was off until it tumbled. Such a performer was sure to be popular, since every one*s turn to laugh would come. Some of the humor is coarse and some would be called flat in these days when an American will wade through three comic papers without a smile. But people of that time had not been polished into propriety by urban life and case-hardened for a century and a half by a steady blast of humor. It was a joke both practical and verbal then if a man was besmeared with tar and called a Tartar. And there was broader wit which was greeted with louder laughter. The " Speech of Miss Polly Baker " and " The Witch Trial at Mount Holly " and " The Meditations on a Quart Mug " and the astrologer's method of forecasting the weather were not too amusing nor too coarse for the times. Better than these was the famous " Speech of Father Abraham at the Auction," printed in " Poor Eichard's Almanac " in 1758 and reprinted in countless forms the world over ever since. It introduced American literature, such as it was, to all Europe. That this specimen had a character and value of its own was proven by its translation into a dozen languages and its sale by hundreds of thousands. This lay sermon on the way to meet hard times and ad- versity by thrift and economy, diligence, industry, and personal attention to business instead of grumbling at 7 gS American Literature taxes was the kind of talk that appealed to men of sense and to everybody else by the cheerful homeliness of its diction. Stuffed full of Poor Eichard's best proverbs and their practical, worldly wisdom, it came home to people's better second thoughts with convincing power. The sharp hits at pride, extravagance, and luxury were relished by communities not yet committed to them. Democracy in every nation welcomed the American's sayings as its hope in the future. In this way the first colonial man of letters got abroad and carried everything by storm at home. No man was so accepted and quoted. His maxims were household words and even crept into pulpits on Sundays. They crossed the sea and made hearts warm to welcome their author in after years. As literature it would be unfair to judge of Franklin's early productions by present standards, or again entirely by contemporary works in England, for he had a practical end to accomplish with a constituency whose limitations he knew and endeavored to meet. No foreign writer then and no modern writer to-day could do what he did. And at that period of his life his greatest ambition was to be a useful rather than an accomplished writer. His main literary effort was to make his meaning clear. It was a good beginning for a national literature. He was the first of his guild who was always understood. It is not to be denied that he sometimes made foolish things plain as well as wise ones. But who has not done the same in his salad days if not later ? Let the man who was bent on abolishing provincialism be gauged by his best efforts. One of these was the importation of forty-five pounds' worth of books purchased by subscription in 1732. It Transition — Edwards and Franklin 99 would be gratifying to know their titles and how far these differed from all previous importations. If they were a part of the contemporary literature of England, published since the beginning of the Public century, they might represent such writers as Dryden, Pope, Addison, Steele, Defoe, Farquhar, Gibber, Clarendon, Swift, Locke, Prior, Shaftesbury, Congreve, Berkeley, Gay, Eamsay, Burnet, Young, Thomson, Field- ing. That these would be a revelation to colonists is certain, since the library of the first college in the land contained none of the above as late as 1723. Great praise, therefore, is due to the man who ran the literary blockade with such contraband books for the improvement of the popular taste. They may not have done much for it immediately, but they formed the nucleus around which gathered the first public library in the country. And this is but one of several great agencies for benefiting mankind of which Franklin was the founder. Leaving his philosophical, scientific, and political at- tainments to his biographers, and keeping strictly to his literary performances, it may be said that his His"Auto- " Autobiography" is the best of these. By ^^^^''^P^y" this, at least, he will always be best known as a writer. Into it went the story of his other doings and achieve- ments as boy and man. No fictitious character was ever treated with greater frankness. Unreserve establishes the truth of the story. The author writes down the account of his life as if it were not worth while to make it appear better than it is. He mentions, so far as he completed the narrative, his successes and his failures, with the exception of an attempt to found the first monthly maga- zine, in this country. But no publication could long loo American Literature survive the title of "The General Magazine and His- torical Chronicle for All the British Plantations in America." It was to Franklin's credit that this one carried so much top hamper for the space of six months before foundering. The " Autobiography " is so weU known that one pas- sage will serve as well as another to recall the lucidity of its style and the practical wisdom of its author. Even in such a disputed matter as paper currency it is easy to see the persuasive force of Franklin's observations. " About this time there was a cry among the people for more paper money, only fifteen thousand pounds being extant in the province, and that soon to be sunk. The wealthy inhabitants oppos'd any addition, being against all paper currency, from an apprehension that it would depreciate, as it had done in New England, to the prejudice of all creditors. We had discussed the point in the Junto, where I was on the side of addition, being persuaded that the first small sum, struck in 1723, had done much good by increasing the trade, employment, and number of inhabitants in the province, since I now saw all the old houses inhabited, and many new ones building : whereas I remembered well, that when I first walked about the streets of Philadelphia, eating my roll, I saw most of the houses in Wal- nut street, between Second and Front streets, with bills on their doors, *' To be let ; " which made me then think the inhabitants of the city were deserting it one after another. " Our debates possess'd me so fully of the subject, that I wrote and printed an anonymous pamphlet entitled ' The Nature and Necessity of a Paper Currency.' It was well received by the common people in general ; but the rich disliked it, for it in- creas'd and strengthened the clamor for more money, and they happening to have no writers among them that were able to answer it, their opposition slacken'd and the point was carried by a majority in the House. My friends there, who conceived I had been of some service, thought fit to reward me by employing mo Transition — Edwards and Franklin loi in printing the money ; a very profitable jobb and a great help to me. This was another advantage gain'd by being able to write." The seeming ease with which he wrote is equalled by the facility with which his principles of political economy were impressed upon voters, and by the readiness with which they contributed to his personal profit. It is amus- ing to note that he attributes all his success to that which he chiefly prized, — his literary ability. The closing page of the first part of this record, inter- rupted by the afifairs of the Eevolution, is interesting as an account of the first attempt at a public library in the country ; the clubbing of the books belonging to the Junto proving a failure after a year. " And now I set on foot my first project of a public library. I, drew up the proposals and, by the help of my friends in the Junto, procured fifty subscribers of forty shillings each to begin with, and ten shillings for fifty years, the term our company was to continue. We afterwards obtained a charter, the com- pany being increased to one hundred : this was the mother of all the North American subscription libraries now so numerous." This collection of books grew to be the present Phila- delphia Library. When he resumed the story of his life thirteen years later he took up the subject of this project, and added something that confirms what has been already asserted of provincial reading : "Those who loved reading were obliged to send for their books from England. ... So few were the readers in Philadel- phia, and the majority of us so poor, that I was not able, with great industry, to find more than fifty persons willing to pay down for this purpose forty shillings each, and ten shillings per annum. On this little fund we began. The books were im- ro2 American Literature ported ; the library was opened one day in a week for lending to subscribers. . . . reading became fashionable, and our people, having no publick amusements to divert their attention from study, became better acquainted with books, and in a few years were observed by strangers to be better instructed and more intelligent than people of the same rank generally are in other countries." For those who wish to read more than the " Autobiog- raphy" and the other specimens of his writing already mentioned, an abundance is furnished in his collected works, fifty editions of which have been published. This alone indicates that he occupies a place in literature as well as in the hearts of Americans. Next to Washington he will always be regarded as the chief builder of the nation. He did much of this foundation work by other activities, but in forming those habits of the people which have made them prosperous his early writings were most effectual. His maxims became their common law of living. Opinions will differ as to the relative place he occupies in our literature. He himself would have asked to be regarded only as a useful frontiersman clearing away first growths and introducing better. As such he is the first in order of time and a pioneer in the work that was to be done first. He was also our first humorist, the predecessor of a line which has sometimes amused and sometimes perplexed foreign readers by what they are pleased to designate as American humor. In this, as in everything else, Franklin made himself clear, and took no risks for the sake of delicacy, as his audience then would not have had him. Since his day the crude Penn- sylvania product has been refined and reproduced in a Transition — Edwards and Franklin 103 hundred forms to suit the demands of a more fastidious and art-appreciating age. His principal service to letters was in broadening and educating American taste beyond its domestic pattern in writing and its exclusive habit in reading, toward the literature of the modern world and its standards and value. There was something to be done for a country into which a copy of Shakespeare first came one hundred years behind time, and waited thirteen years for a com- panion copy to be advertised for sale. Franklin did much in creating a demand for this and other classics by people who needed to read them. X THREE HISTORIANS AND A POET The struggle between the old style and the new in letters was continued for some time after the coming of Liberal ^^® ncwspapcr, the almanac, and Benjamin Tendencies, j^^anklin. The pulpit as yet had nothing to fear from the press. In Virginia, where in 1670 Gover- nor Berkeley "thanked God that there were no free schools nor printing and hoped there would not be for a hundred years," there was one printing-house after sixty years, but for thirty-five years more it was kept well in hand by the royal governor. The conservative magis- trate had this desire of his heart fulfilled more exactly than in others mentioned in the "Burwell Papers," a piece of contemporary history well worth reading. A more modern spirit came in with James Blair, founder and president of the College of William and Mary, who " could not rest till teachers were in the land," and until he had helped to advertise the colony by his share in a book entitled "The Present State of Virginia and the College." He had already contributed to the current theological literature of the country one hundred and seventeen discourses on the Sermon on the Mount. Another Virginian, the genial cosmopolite, William Byrd of Westover, turned from his broad lands and social delights to run the North Carolina line through the Dismal Swamp and other desolate regions. He then 104 Three Historians and a Poet 105 described the adventure, to the cost of the backwoods settlers, in a vivacious narrative which was destined to wait one hundred and twelve years for a publisher. Meantime the historical spirit, which was always chronic in New England, breaks out there afresh. The self-consciousness of a people who were taking Thomas themselves and life most seriously was never ^"°*^*- weary of recording the progress they were making, — in annals and diaries at first, with occasional memoranda of Indian warfare, but at length with the genuine historical virtues of accuracy and impartiality. Thomas Prince, a Boston minister for forty years, is a great improvement on his predecessors in charitable fairness when he observes : " I am for leaving every one to the freedom of worshipping according to the light of his conscience." He is also careful to examine original sources of infor- mation and determines to take nothing upon hearsay or tradition. But he deemed the story of the century of New England life so important that it should have the background of all time in which to set it. Accordingly he began with the creation of man and labored on through ages and dispensations. When he reached the Puritan Commonwealth he was out of breath and time. His first volume was an introduction, five thousand and six hundred years in length, with only ten years of colonial record. Three years more were summed up in pamphlets, and his work was done. He was not the only one who wrote ancient history when intending to write modern. The time had not yet come for improved his- torical methods. The colonist could not get out of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle habit. Still, he was accumulating material for his grandchildren's perspective treatment, and io6 American Literature for a generation of historians in the next century who should be the peers of all their race. In this mid-century period Virginia had a historian who fell into the ambush which is always awaiting William ^^°^^ w^^ attempt to write up recent ajffairs. stith. WilHam Stith discards American antiquities beyond Columbus, but he cannot forbear enumerating the various voyages of discovery preceding Ealeigh and John Smith, with an allusion to the pride of some writ- ers in mentioning others as remote as the Carthaginian Hanno and Plato's fable of the lost Atlantis. After a while he gets to the Virginia colony, but it is the recon- structed narrative of John Smith, in whose veracity he has a provincial and patriotic confidence. Yet his in- tention is good, and his sense of what a historian should be is keen. "I declare myself of no party, but have labored solely with a view to find out and relate the truth." ' That he did not always succeed was due to the dust which was still in the air from recent commotions.) On the sunny side this became to him a resplendent cloud, on the other an earthy mist. And yet this history must have been interesting reading in its day, as it still is to those who prefer detailed particulars to events in their proportion and relation. The exploits of Smith, the increase in stock and produce, the abundance of game, the variations of Indian temper, the dispositions of gover- nors, are examples of topics which busied the chronicler and entertained his readers with pen portrayal until a later fashion of history came in with the next century. From Stith's " History of Virginia " it may be interesting to take a section which he wrote for the year that the " Mayflower " came to Plymouth — 1620 : Three Historians and a Poet 107 **In May this year, there was held another General Assembly, which has, through mistake and the indolence and negligence of our historians in searching such ancient records as are still extant in the country, been commonly reputed the first General Assembly of Virginia. But that privilege was granted sooner. . . . And we are likewise told by Mr. Beverly, that a Dutch ship, putting in this year, sold twenty negroes to the Colony, which were the first of that generation that were ever brought to Virginia." And then without a word of transition this follows : "Tobacco, a stinking, nauseous, and unpalatable weed, is certainly an odd commodity to make the staple and riches of a country. It is neither of necessity nor ornament to human life ; but the use of it depends upon humour and custom, and may be looked upon as one of the most singular and extraordinary pieces of luxury that the wantonness of man hath yet invented or given into. It is not therefore to be wondered that the Colony's eagerness and application almost solely to tobacco [raising] was much distasted and opposed by the Company ; especially in those early times before it had obtained such a general reception and dominion in the world. To which it may be added that the King himself had a sort of natural antipathy to it, and was perpetually haranguing, railing, and even writing against it. For that Solomon of England thought it not below his royal wisdom and dignity to write a treatise, entitled, " A Counter- Blast to Tobacco." New York furnished another example of the prevailing mode in the account which William Smith gave of his native province from its first discovery to the year 1732. The writer labors under the delusion which possessed aU the historical writers of the time that justice, accuracy, and impartiality are signally exemplified in their own work. And this despite emphatic intimations to the contrary by contemporaries. In this instance local poli- io8 American Literature tics, which appears always to have been in Manhattan air, got into sober history, not always in the interest of truth, if of righteousness. This, however, does not de- stroy the piquancy of certain passages, nor the unconscious humor which crops out in other veracious ones. The race for wealth divides attention with the citizen's ardor to serve the public in official station, while the pursuit of knowledge and the cultivation of letters are not uniformly an easy third in the competition. Later there was a change in this respect. In Massachusetts the historian of the period who is to be rated with the two just mentioned, though ranking Thomas thcm both, was Thomas Hutchinson, the last Hutchinson, p^oy^icial govcmor of the Bay. A wealth of materials had accumulated which he thought should be set in order before further destruction of ancient records took place. With becoming modesty he wishes that some one else had undertaken the task. He makes the rare admission that the affairs of a colony cannot afford much matter interesting or entertaining to the world in general. UHis chief design is to save from oblivion, for the benefit of his countrymen, facts which from their nature afford but a dull and heavy narration. Uncommon sense is shown by this view of his subject and himself; also in the quick disposal of all previous history and voyages to America. In three pages he is in the midst of affairs on the Massachusetts coast, and in a few more is busy with the Puritan settlement on the Bay. Although he keeps the date conveniently in the margin, he is writing some- thing more than a chronicle. There is enough life and warmth in it to give spirit and movement to incidents which pass in rapid succession. The arrival of seventeen Three Historians and a Poet 109 ships with fifteen hundred passengers in 1630, their first and second impressions of the country, the distresses of the first winter, the streak of grim humor in the single inhabitant of Boston, Blackstone, who told intruders that he liked the lords brethren no better than the lords bishops, and that his squatter sovereignty extended over all city lots in the peninsula, or words to that effect — all this and more is put down in readable sentences of modern cast. In the midst of describing a famine one cannot tell whether the historian smiled when he men- tioned the man who after a dinner of clams "returned thanks to God, who had given them to suck of the abun- dance of the seas and of treasure hid in the sands." And this was not in Narragansett. Side lights are thrown upon magisterial envyings and rivalries; the man with the greatest solemnity in walk and conversation wearing the palm. To his native majesty of bearing such a one as Yane added the adornment of " four sergeants walking before him with halberds, when he went either to court or to church." Kepublican simplicity did not begin with the Puritan in 1636. His version of his ancestress' career, Mrs. Anne Hutchinson, is : moderate and fair, when it is remembered what monstrous lies the elders told about her. Now and then small matters seem to get more than due attention, but no one in these go-as-you-please times can imagine how the sinfulness of wearing long hair rent the religious society of New England in the seventeenth century. A single passage may illustrate^ the judicial spirit of the governor in small things which were then largg; " In every ago indifferent things have been condemned as sinful and placed among the greatest immoralities. The text no American Literature against long hair in Corinthians as contrary to the custom in the apostle's day, induced our ancestors to think it criminal in all ages and all nations and to look upon it as one of the barbarities of the Indians. The rule in New England was that none should wear their hair below their ears. In a clergy- man it was said to be the greater offence, as they were in an especial manner required to go with their ears open. A few years before tobacco was prohibited under a penalty, and the smoke of it in some manuscripts is compared to the smoke of the bottomless pit. Some of the clergy fell into the practice of smoking, and tobacco by an act of government was set at liberty. In England periwigs came into use soon after the restoration. In New England they were an eyesore for thirty years after and did not generally obtain until about the time of the revolution, and even then the example and authority of Dr. Owen and other nonconforming ministers who wore wigs were necessary to remove all scruples concerning them." It is one of the incidental proofs of the great influence of the clergy in colonial days that they were leaders in fashion as well as in theology, literature, and legislation. When Hutchinson deals with matters of vital impor- tance it is in the same equable tone and temper. Efforts to instruct the Indians, persecution of so-called witches, interposition of civil authority when the church became high-handed, relations with the home government, and other such doings are all set down with greater impar- tiality than had been seen in any previous record and with little personal comment. The writer succeeded in blending into a continuous narrative the best and most trustworthy of the materials that had been left by his predecessors. Some of these documents must have seemed to him like scraps from the rag-bag, but after the thrifty custom of the time he managed to weave Three Historians and a Poet i n particolored strips and tangled yarns into a bright and serviceable fabric. When the distractions of his public station are considered, and toward the last the per- sonal disturbance and loss of manuscripts attending the change in political conditions, and finally his ill-treatment at the court of the royal George, this three-volume history of Governor Hutchinson's becomes one of the most attractive examples of our early litera- ture. Besides, it has an absorbing interest of its own, as every reader of it will ascertain. It is the review of one hundred and seventy years of colonial life, by a chief magistrate who, as the last of his line, saw it pass into the life of a new nation. As a royal governor and as a true American he told well, for his time, the story of what was then British America. As a good loyalist himself, his account of the devotion of Massachusetts Bay to the king a hundred years before the Ke volution, is significant: " On the one hand, I think it appears that the government had not sufficient excuse for not complying more fully with what the King required of them by his letter in 1662. On the other hand, the commission was a stretch of power, superseding in many respects the authority granted by the charter, and there appears upon this occasion not an obstinate perverse spirit, but a modest, steady adherence to what they imagined at least to be their just rights and privileges. At the same time they endeavoured, not only by repeated humble addresses and pro- fessions of loyalty to appease his Majesty, but they purchased a ship-load of masts (the freight whereof cost them sixteen hundred pounds sterling) and presented to the King, which he graciously accepted. Contributions and subscriptions were also made for the fleet and for the relief of sufferers by the great fire in London.'* 112 American Literature On the freedom of the press, he writes : ** There had been a press for printing at Cambridge for near twenty years. The court appointed two persons in 1662, Ucen- cers of the press, and prohibited the pubHshing any books or newspapers which should not be supervised by them, and in 1668 the supervisors having allowed the printing of 'Thomas a Kempis de Imitatione Christi,' the court interposed, ' it being wrote by a popish minister, and containing some things less safe to be issued among the people,' and therefore they commended to the licencers a more full revisal, and ordered the press to stop in the meantime. In a constitution less popular this would have been thought too great an abridg- ment of the subject's liberty." And on the " Sabbath " : "From a sacred regard to the religion of the Christian Sabbath, a Scruple arose of the lawfulnass of calling the first day of the week Sunday, as they always, upon any occasion, whether in a civil or religious relation to it, stiled it either the Lord's day or the Sabbath. As the exception to the word Sunday was founded upon its superstitious idolatrous origin, the same scruple naturally followed with respect to all the other days of the week and of most of the months, which had the same origin." The following may have interest this year, 1902 : "The small pox, this year [1721] made great havoc in Boston and some adjacent towns. Having been prevented from spreading for near 20 years, all born within that time, besides many who had escaped it before, were liable to the distemper. Of 5889 which took it in Boston 844 died. Inoculation was introduced upon this occasion, contrary to the minds of the inhabitants in general, and not without hazard to the lives of those who promoted it, from the rage of the people. Dr. C. Mather, one of the principal ministers of Boston, had observed in the philosophical transactions, a letter of Timonius from Constantinople, and a treatise of Pylarinus, Venetian consul Three Historians and a Poet 113 at Smyrna, giving a very favorable account of the operation, and he recommended a trial to the physicians of the town, but they all declined it except Doctor Boylston, who made himself very obnoxious. To show the confidence he had of success he began with his own children and servants. Many sober, pious people were struck with horror and were of opinion that if any of his patients should die, he ought to be treated as a murderer. The vulgar were enraged to that degree that his family was hardly safe in his house, and he often met with affronts and insults in the streets," etc. Aside from the three representative histories which have been mentioned there were other prose writings of the mid-century period, miscellaneous in character, largely theological, but with a goodly proportion of scientific, political, and philosophical topics interspersed. The most of this is not worth reading. 'It is interesting only as a sign that the colonial mind wis broadening. A few titles, however, arrest attention. " Ptolemy, King of the Gypsies ; New and True Egyptian Fortune-Teller, " Boston, 1753, and the next year "Tom Thumb, the Monster of Monsters." As an antidote to these danger- ous books appears " The Youth's Entertaining Amuse- ment ; or, A Plain Guide to Psalmody." The dissipation of the singing school had probably begun to threaten communities. But John Witherspoon's " Serious Inquiry into the Nature and Effects of the Stage, " smothered any longings after the theatre which a Boston boy might have in his dreams. He would be an old man before he should witness a spectacular play in waking hours. The anony- mous author of " Be Merry and be Wise," knew better than to go beyond the signature "T. T." in the year of the accession of George III. He was doubtless rebuked when he read in the following year Francis Worcester's 114 American Literature " Else, Travels, and Triumph of Death." In fine, the pleasantry of literature at this time is suggestive of the smile of a skulL The poet of the age who was most appreciated was Dr. Mather Byles, the magnificent. He was more than half Mather ^^ accomplishcd and three-quarters as impos- Byies. ^g ^g ^j^g magnate whose name he bore, the author of the " Magnalia." His unprofessional studies were in English classics as well as in ancient, a notable exception to the habit of his day. His proclivity for letters was surpassed only by his pulpit eloquence and his wit. He knew what was current in literary circles in England and corresponded with Lansdowne, Watts, and Pope. The last complimented the American poet by send- ing him a fine copy of his translation of the " Odyssey," a book which Dr. Byles accompanied with his own verses in lending it : " Go, my dear Pope, transport th' attentive fair, And soothe with winning harmony her ear, *T will add new graces to thy heav'nly song, To be repeated by her gentle tongue. Old Homer's shade shall smile if she commend. And Pope be proud to write as Byles to lend." Beginning his versifying in college, he kept it up through life at intervals. It will not be necessary to prove that he was bom and died a loyalist after the following example of his verse, which might have been entitled, " The King is Dead ; Long Live the King ! " " He dies ! let nature own the direful blow, Sigh all ye winds, with tears the rivers flow, Let the wide ocean, loud in anguish, roar, And tides of grief pour plenteous on the shore ; No more the spring shall bloom, or morning rise, But night eternal wrap the sable skies." Three Historians and a Poet 115 Then is illustrated the sudden wrench to which poets laureate are sometimes subjected : " Enough, my muse, give all thy tears away ; Break, ye dull shades, and rise the rosy day. Let Britain's sorrows cease, her joys enlarge. The First revives the Second George. Hail, mighty prince, O shining sovereign, hail ! Fain would the muse lisp her prophetic tale ; In mystic lays the future years relate, And sing the records of unripened state," which the loyal American then proceeds to do in couplets that Pope,' his master, might have approved in a double sense. Still, the improvement in imitation is great, and the copy is better than hitherto. Even in lighter strain some contemporary hit ofif the majestic divine in better form than that of the ancient elegy : " There 's punning Byles, provokes our smiles, A man of stately parts. He visits folks to crack his jokes, "Which never mend their hearts. With strutting gait and wig so great, He walks along the streets, And throws out wit, or what *s like it, To every one he meets." But there is hope for the American muse. Its first agony is over and its writhings begin to be graceful. At least it is in the prevailing mode of London Town. XI REMONSTRANT WRITERS About the year 1765 American writings took on a new form and spirit. For a century and a half the colonists had been carrying the separatist principle into ^para ion ^j^gj^j. religious and political life. Massachu- Association. t.t ,. i.-r-.i-iTTiT setts desired nothmg of Rhode Island beyond keeping its own side of the line. Virginia had no favors to ask of Maryland, nor Pennsylvania of New York. Each settlement cultivated the traditional seclusion of the Briton in his country house, and kept itself removed from the highways of the world's life and literature. But from the parliament-house in London these scattered plan- tations easily narrowed into a single strip of farms and fishing stations from which revenue might be raised for the crown. Oppressive legislation to secure tribute forced upon these isolated and exclusive communities the idea of confederation, which events at length matured into that of union. This thought of association, now so familiar after more than one hundred years of the fact, was the idle dream of a few visionary radicals in 1765, and a nightmare to everybody else. Nevertheless the writings of the succeeding decade show that a strong diversion had taken place in colonial thought and in the manner of makinj? it known. 116 Remonstrant Writers 117 All the energy which had hitherto gone into theological athletics now found a field for its exercise in discussion of the rights of the British subject. Polemics of pojjticai the meeting-house began to yield the floor ^«<="*"oo- to debates of the town meeting in the interest of crys- tallizing colonies. The same change is noticeable in printed matter, and Edwards' treatise on " Original Sin " was laid aside for Franklin's " Cool Thoughts on the Present Situation of Our Public Affairs." Prognostics of this change had been discerned by the weather-wise as far back as the mid-century. In the very year that Franklin was explaining his theory of thunder gusts Jonathan Mahew discoursed concerning "Unlimited Submission and Non-resistance to Higher Powers." Later Franklin stirred up Eichard Jackson to write about "The Interest of Great Britain with Eegard to Her Colonies," to say nothing of appeals and remonstrances that were frequently sent to the home government. It was not, however, until the threatened passing of the stamp act that our literature began to bristle with pens engaged in the controversy for constitutional rights. Hitherto American writings had made little stir abroad, and with good reason. Now they began to command attention through their relation to the British exchequer first, and then by their dignity, strength, and knowledge. They were a revelation to the English people of growth in wisdom and power unexpected in a child who had been living so far from home among savages. " Eeally, it was quite remarkable," and more remarkable twenty years later. There is such an abundance of this new literature of reasonable protest and argumentative remonstrance ii8 .American Literature that a complete enumeration and the slightest charac- terization of its writers would exceed the limits assigned to this topic. Mention must therefore be restricted to its leading contributors, and be brief at that. Franklin has already been spoken of as the forerunner of a departure in miscellaneous writing from previous James Otis fashious. Hc is also a pioneer in political and others, pamphleteering, which itself gave way to the essay in newspapers. The record of what he did with his pen in the course of a long career in the service of his country may be seen -in his published works; the actual results which he accomplished may never be fully known. Next to him in the order of time and foremost in the North was James Otis. His pamphlet on " The Eights of the British Colonies Asserted and Proved," 1764, adver- V tised the strained relations between England and America, pointed out the injustice of recent legislation, based an appeal for redress upon the rights of the governed as pro- tected by the British constitution, and deplored alienation from the mother country and the king. It was the final word of a loyalty which could not and would not become a slavery. It was a restatement of the rights which the barons asserted at Eunnymede. It rested upon the bed- rock of Magna Charta. Thus it became itself a pyramid of constitutional logic from which other writers soon began to quarry the comer stones of their several edifices, built each after a style of its own. But the sublime original will always stand as a landmark at the dividing of the ways. It did much to divide them, notwithstanding its sincere protests of reverence and love for Great Britain. The colonies saw their cause stated as they had not been Remonstrant Writers 119 able to formulate it themselves. The grievance had been defined ; should it be borne submissively, or further pro- tested against, or forcibly resisted ? The answer to this threefold question was not uniform. The last two phases of it had each its advocates. Oxenbridge Thacher's " Sen- timents of a British American" should be read to learn how conciliatory and moderate the best colonial temper tried to be, and was, under provocation, and loyal withal to the throne. The pamphlet debate which took place be- tween governor Stephen Hopkins of Providence and lawyer Martin Howard of Newport, out of which the impulsive Otis could not keep himself, illustrates the divi- sions that had already begun to separate neighbors and families, and would by and by send many to Halifax. It also exemplifies the kind of literature which these stalwart statesmen were making. The thought-habit of it had been bred in the meeting-house and the court-house for genera- tions, but the style of it was not the antique manner of either Dr. Mather or Judge Sewall. Samuel Johnson's orotund deliverances had reached New England, or, at least, his dictionary had arrived, and the rhythmic majesty of a ponderous dictioil suited well the dignity of such themes as were to be discussed by cultivated men in two hemi- spheres. It was as noble as the issues at stake; as stately as the manners of the time. Affected pedantry was driven out by the momentous questions impending; expletives of emotion restrained by an overshadowing storm cloud that was gathering. One cannot read these pamphlets and others like them without knowing that they dealt with one of the upheavals of history and that the men who wrote them had already been lifted to a higher level I20 American Literature Moreover, candor forces the admission that in literary execution loyalist writers are not behind the patriot. A Loyalist ccntury and a quarter of inbred contempt for Writers. ^-^q Tory may have induced color blindness in our criticism. If so, the historic imagination must be invoked to set us back to the days when all were as yet citizens of an empire upon which the sun did not set, and of which all its subjects were proud, even if its rulers were unwise. In the commotion of change from colonies to free states some actors were slower in movement than others, and some clung to the old home government to their immense cost ; but estimates of literature must be independent of even the noblest issues in contests which create it, and fairness to both sides is essential to the completeness of even an outline sketch. The side of resistance to the Crown had no more earnest champion with tongue or pen than Samuel Adams. He Samuel '^^^ great in town-meeting, but his revolution- Adams. ^^^ articles in the newspapers, his "Circular Letter to Each Colonial Legislature," his " Appeal to the World ; or, A Vindication of the Town of Boston," and his " Earnest Appeal to the People " were powerful instrumen- talities in strengthening the fast-growing spirit of union for separation from Great Britain. More than Franklin, even, he represents the forceful literature of the public press in that period. Through the columns of the " Boston Gazette," the " Massachusetts Spy," and the " Providence Gazette," he reached a majority of New England homes, and was copied in the journals of other provinces. A letter of his in the last-named paper on March 18, 1769, is probably the first printed intimation of a possible rup- ture with England. Owning no newspaper himself, he Remonstrant Writers 121 was the chief journalist in several. Not as Sam Adams alone, but as a dozen writers, for all that readers could guess by his various signatures. His political principles, however, never varied through all their multiform expo- sitions by his pen. In state papers written for public assemblies, in open letters addressed to those in authority, or to the people as the source of all authority, he was the creator or director of opinion. His writings constitute a large part of the literature which helped on the great rev- olution in thoughts that preceded revolutionary acts. The name and writings of Josiah Quincy should be classed with those of Otis and Adams as remonstrants against the encroachments of Britain. The three together represent the advanced attitude of New England in this period of political controversy. More than others they snuffed the battle from afar and hastened to meet its coming. The predominant sentiment of the decade before the Declaration of Independence had an able exponent in John Dickinson of Pennsylvania and other middle colonies in which he lived and labored. He son"the*^ ,,. 1.11 •• <.!. -I Conservative. believed, with the majority of colonists at that time, that colonial liberty might be secured without sac- rificing union with the mother country. To maintain and encourage this view of affairs he wrote unceasingly. Pamphlets and newspaper articles flowed from his pen. People awaited with eager expectancy the weekly instal- ments of his " Farmer's Letters." They read with admira- tion the state papers which he framed for assemblies and conventions. His " resolutions," " petitions," " instruc- tions," and " addresses," and other documents of similar character and importance, show that he was the trusted 122 American Literature spokesman of the majority. They earned him the title of the " Penman of the Eevolution." Such he continued to be until the oppressive measures of the British ministry drove the larger part of the colonists beyond their patient, loyal, and hopeful position to a resort to arms for the defence of their constitutional rights. But John Dickin- son stood unmoved in his conservative belief, although he manifested his patriotism by joining the army when the issue came to the trial by combat. His "Farmer's Let- ters " will always remain as interpreters of the remonstrant period in the great transition. Protesting against the thought of independence as a fatal calamity, he insists upon freedom and the recognition of rights by the Crown and Parliament. With equal sincerity he urges loyalty and a dignified appeal to the British sense of justice and to the principles of English liberty. Such consistency was appreciated by wise and prudent statesmen in Parlia- ment and out of it, but they were in the minority and the King's fools in the majority. The few wise men by their wisdom could not save the state; also the foolish were destined to precipitate the conflict which lost them the best half of a continent. None the less valuable, how- ever, as political literature are the writings of the man who stood for moderation, restraint, and what is now known as the policy of arbitration. War became the final resort because compelled, but this necessity detracted nothing from the higher statesmanship of Dickinson and the nobility of his writings. These had a wider recog- nition than those of any other man except Pranklin. Published in four-fifths of the colonial newspapers week by week, the '* Farmer's Letters " were afterward printed in eight editions here, three in Great Britain and one Remonstrant Writers 123 on the continent, where their sentiments were received with great approbation. For a time the author was the first man of letters in America. The dominant note of these Letters is indicated in the third of them, which also shows the divisions in public sentiment and the moderate position of its writer as com- pared, for instance, with Paine at one extreme and Seabury at the other. " Sorry I am to learn that there are some few persons who shake their heads with solemn motion, and pretend to wonder what can be the meaning of these letters. Great Britain, they say, is too powerful to contend with; she is determined to oppress us ; it is vain to speak of right on one side when there is power on the other ; when we are strong enough to resist we shall attempt it ; but now we are not strong enough and there- fore we had better be quiet ; it signifies nothing to convince us that our rights are invaded when we cannot defend them. . . . Are these men ignorant that usurpations, which might have been successfully opposed at first, acquire strength by continu- ance, and thus become irresistible 1 Do they condemn the con- duct of these colonies concerning the stamp-act ? Or have they forgot its successful issue 1 Ought the colonies at that time to have trusted for relief to the fortuitous events of futurity 1 . , , Therefore it becomes necessary to enquire whether * our rights are invaded V . . . I will now tell the gentlemen what is the meaning of the letters. The meaning of them is, to convince the people of these colonies that they are at this moment exposed to the most imminent dangers ; and to persuade them immediately, vigorously, and unanimously to exert themselves in the most firm, but most peaceable manner, for obtaining relief. The cause of liberty is a cause of too much dignity to be sullied by turbulence and tumult. It ought to be main- tained in a manner suitable to her nature. Those who engage in it should breathe a sedate, yet fervent spirit, animating them to actions of prudence, justice, modesty, bravery, humanity, and 1 24 American Literature magnanimity. . . I hope, my dear countrymen, that you will, in every colony, be on your guard against those who may endeavour to stir you up, under pretences of patriotism, to any measures disrespectful to our Sovereign and our mother country. Hot, rash, disorderly proceedings injure the reputation of a people as to wisdom, valour, and virtue, without procuring them the least benefit." Thus he wrote on, counselling moderation and forbear- ance and loyalty to the throne. Then the gust which whirled before the storm swept people away from this self-centred statesman in two directions — toward armed resistance on the part of the majority, and toward unprotesting adhesion to existing authority by the remainder. Each division intensified one of the two sentiments which all had formerly held in common — liberty and loyalty. The expression of these emotions constitutes the literature of the last part of this period in its two branches, which diverged more and more, until one of them culminated in the Declaration of Inde- pendence, and the other wasted itself in profitless dissent. To mention the leaders in the first movement is all that can be done here and now. In those days politics shared the pulpit with divinity, and the unorthodox Jonathan Mahew should not be over- p litics in looked among those who had already been and Else-* conspicuous in the forefront of the controversy, where. jj-g ggrmons werc mighty inspirations to his neighbors, but as literature they have lost much of the power which accompanied their delivery. Other divines echoed his political doctrines — if they could not his the- ological views — whose patriotic sermons now lie buried in the crypts of antiquarian libraries. Remonstrant Writers 125 It is rather in the political essays of statesmen that the driftings of opinion and the character of its literature can best be discovered. The chief writers are so well known and their writings so accessible that it will be sufficient merely to allude to the part which John Adams, Thomas Jefferson, and Alexander Hamilton had in the pre-revolu- tion controversy. Less eminent men and writers contribute to the litera- ture of ferment and transition, both prose and verse. In the latter department no one more abundantly than Phihp Freneau. A Huguenot detestation of tyranny, strength- ened by sufferings on a British prison-ship, increased the bitterness of his satirical verse as hostilities continued. He was the leader of a band of versifiers, who created the ballad literature of the revolution, which, by presenting the ludicrous side of misery, did much to cheer the hearts of patriot soldiers. Its answering verse from the other side did something toward relieving the animosity of the loyalists. The two together, like the two corresponding branches of prose writing, are reflections of the thoughts and emotions of a divided people, who were apprehensive and hopeful, fearful and desperate by turns in face of an imminent catastrophe. In both prose and verse, however, a marked improve- ment is observed. The subjects of treatment were in the line of immediate and vital concern, close to men's hearts and homes. Life and liberty were involved in the discus- sion. Emotion as well as thought pervaded its expression. Heart as well as head engaged in its handling. There was no time or room for nonsense. With an experimental acquaintance with the traditional policy of Great Britain on the part of these writers, and a long training in the 126 American Literature vigorous use of the vernacular, what but a sterling politi- cal literature should result ? ^ 1 Readers are referred to the following titles : " Works of John Adams," ten volumes, Boston, 1850; "Samuel Adams' Life and Public Services," "Wells, Boston, 1865 ; " John Dickinson's Political Writings," Wilming- ton, 1801 ; "Alexander Hamilton's Works," New York, 1850 ; "Jeffer- son's Writings," New York, 1859 ; "James Otis' Life," by Tudor, 1823 ; " Jonathan Mahew's Life and Writings," by A. Bradford ; " Josiah Quincy's Speeches," Boston, 1874. Biographical details of interest may also be found in the "American Statesmen Series." xn WRITERS AND SPEAKERS OF THE REVOLUTION Every one knows that war does not immediately promote the growth of literature. The muses never did get on well with Mars while he was busy. Only when his work is done and can be contemplated at a safe distance can an undisturbed view of it or of anything else be taken. Homer could not have written the Iliad in Achilles* tent. The only literature that was produced there and by the black ships along the Dardanian shore was spoken. The record of it fiUs half of the great Epic. Oratory is pre- eminently the literature of warring periods. All writing did not cease, to be sure, with the climax of pre-revolution letters, the Declaration of Independence, but the resources of argument, persuasion, and p^^^ words appeal in political and state papers had been *°^^°w^- well-nigh exhausted. Addresses to the Throne and peti- tions to Parliament had ended in sending taxed tea and four regiments to collect damages incident to landing it in the water of Boston harbor. Then Pitcairn's pistol gave the signal to drop pens and to fix bayonets. What was written after that was inspired by violent emotion of one kind and another. High words sprung from high temper, itself raised by high-handed injustice. Its natural and ready expression is ridicule and irony, satire and sarcasm. With these moods revolution writings begin to teem. 127 128 American Literature Angry words bubble up like froth from the boiling. Satirical pamphlets are thrown back and forth by Whig and Tory like the taunts of soldiers from opposing lines. They are often weighted with solid reason and sometimes heavy with argument, but they are pointed with steel. Often their impact causes an explosion of laughter on one side, of wrath on the other, followed by violence and this by retaliation. Thus the wordy war went on by the side of an armed conflict, as the shouts of battle accompany death-dealing missiles. If these ephemeral and spirited productions are to be rated for their literary value, allowance must be made for the disturbed conditions in which they were turned out. Even when they are assigned to their secondary class of satirical composition it is not always that they can take the first rank. It is only as the patriot writer or as the loyalist, who was sometimes patriotic too, kept in the region of first principles that he made the literature of this stormy time first-class. The essayist who did this most creditably was Thomas Paine. His cloudy decline in the afternoon of life has done much to obscure his early fame for those Thomas •' "Common ^^^ ^° ^^^ kuow how great his services for Sense." ^-^q causc of frccdom were. Coming from England with a letter of introduction from Franklin, he cast in his lot with Americans at a critical time and with the fullest sympathy with its most advanced sentiment. Of this he became the interpreter and advocate. Up to the battle of Lexington, and even later, the idea of indepen- dence had been repudiated by all but a few radicals. It was a project threatening the unity of the British empire. If a globe of glass is struck where will the fracture end ? Writers and Speakers of the Revolution 1 29 But Paine was not concerned about the integrity of the globe so much as about the welfare of the people who lived on the western side of it. Accordingly he wrote " Common Sense," a pamphlet whose motto might have been, " How long halt ye between two opinions ? " It was an out-and-out call to withdraw from British citizenship and to set up a new government. Its circulation and success were immense. Hundreds of thousands read it. The fabric of loyalty which the people had been sincerely and fondly cherishing tumbled to the fall when this mis- sile crashed against it. No doubt the fair edifice was honeycombed with revolt beyond men's open admission, but the shell was still standing in apparent good order when in January, 1776, this pamphlet laid open before them their unspoken thoughts and their suppressed fears or their secret hopes, as the case might be. Of course it was received with corresponding delight or dismay, but in either event it was an appeal to abandon the position of remonstrants and suppliants to the Throne, and to demand freedom as an independent people. Six months afterward the response came in the Declaration of Independence. It is too much to say that this climacteric pamphlet of Paine's evolved the crowning state paper of the colonial age. It is enough to assert that this prince of pamphleteers happened to be the man in whose hand the pointed stick drew flame that flashed far and wide in an atmosphere surcharged with St. Elmo's fire. This spirited monograph and his " Crisis " that followed it may not belong to the literature of knowledge, according to De Quincey's distinction, but they evidently pertained to the literature of power. One manifestation of this was the inspiring quality in them which called out many others in 130 American Literature sympathy or hostility. Then war came flooding along the coast, and above its seething crests a spindrift of bitter words flew hissing, to fall back into oblivion. Out of this it is not needful to drag what had a momentary interest which can never be revived except for the historian. But in that day those tracts for troubled times stood in the shadow of mighty names like Franklin and Jefferson and Witherspoon and Odell, William Smith, Johnson, Seabury, Chauncy, Stiles, Duffield, Cooper, Hopkinson and Bracken- ridge, who with their respective following on either side filled the air with a snowstorm of pamphlets and sermons, ballads and broadsides. These did effective work in strengthening the convictions, in firing the hearts, and in cheering the spirits of civilians and soldiers ; but when their work was done their life was over and they must be classed among the ephemera of literature. This, however, is not the case with Paine's " Common Sense " and " Crisis," as a few extracts will indicate. He remarks toward the end of the first pamphlet : " I have never met with a man, either in England or America, who hath not confessed his opinion, that a separation between the countries would take place at one time or other : And there is no instance in which we have shown less judgment, than in endeavoring to describe, what we call the ripeness or fitness of the Continent for independence. As all men allow the measure, and vary only in their opinion of the time, let us, in order to remove mistakes, take a general survey of things, and endeavour if possible to find out the very time. But I need not go far, the inquiry ceases at once, for the time hath found us. The general concurrence of all things proves the fact. " The infant state of the Colonies, as it is called, so far from being against, is an argument in favor of independence. We are sufficently numerous, and were we more so we might be less Writers and Speakers of the Revolution 131 united. Youth is the seed-time of good habits in nations as in individuals. It might be difficult, if not impossible, to form the Continent into one Government half a century hence. The vast variety of interests, occasioned by an increase of trade and population, would create confusion. Colony would be against Colony. Wherefore the present time is the true time for establishing union. It is that time which never happens to a nation but once, viz. the time of forming itself into a government. Most nations have let slip the opportunity, and by that means have been compelled to receive laws from their conquerors instead of making laws for themselves. "To conclude, however strange it may appear to some, or however unwilling they may be to think so, matters not, but many strong and striking reasons may be given to show, that nothing can settle our affairs so expeditiously as an open and determined declaration for independence . . . and until an independence is declared, the Continent will feel itself like a man who continues putting off some unpleasant business from day to day, yet knows it must be done, hates to set about it, wishes it over, and is continually haunted with the thoughts of its necessity." So in " The Crisis " a more urgent appeal is made : *' Whether the independence of the Continent was declared too soon, or delayed too long, I will not now enter into as an argument. My own simple opinion is, that had it been eight months earlier, it would have been much better. Indepen- dence was a doctrine scarce and rare even towards the con- clusion of the year 1775 ; all our politics had been founded on the hope or expectation of making the matter up — a hope which though general on the side of America, had never entered the head or heart of the. British Court. Good heavens! what volumes of thanks does America owe to Britain ! What infinite obligations to the tool that fills, with paradoxical vacancy, the throne! ... As politicians we ought not so much to ground our hopes on the reasonableness of the thing we ask, as on the 13^ American Literature reasonableness of the person of whom we ask it : who would expect discretion from a fool, candor from a tyrant, or justice from a villain 1 '* So busy were the writers of the war decade with its immediate issues and so distracted by its turmoil that little else was produced. To this statement tureof there is one notable exception, which has Oratory. already been mentioned — namely, the litera- ture which was spoken in deliberative or other assemblies. If there is any objection to calling oratory a branch of literature a long discussion may be cut short by remark- ing that the literary wealth of the ancient and modern world would shrink amazingly if the recorded discourse of " speaking men " were eliminated. Pens and paper are not indispensable to the expression of thoughts that appeal to mind and heart with perennial interest — and what else is literature? Moreover, some of the most beautiful and sublime of these creations have been uttered before they were written down by the speaker, as is the case with early poetry itself. This is true with respect to much of the oratory which sprung up in the stirring period before and during the Patrick revolutionary war. An early and prominent Henry. instaucc was afforded by the spontaneous elo- quence of Patrick Henry. He was not a person from whom preeminent literary achievement could have been expected so far as education and training could promote it. The most satisfactory solution of the quandary here suggested is to say that he was born to be an orator, as Shakespeare was born to be a dramatist. The story of his sudden rise and his triumphal career needs no repeti- tion. His speeches for the defence and confirmation of Writers and Speakers of the Revolution 133 liberty are the first literature that the American school- boy learns by heart. Their doctrine stays with him through all the wars and in all the years of peace. But there is a drawback to this familiarity. It is unfortu- nate for the records of spoken thought that the best examples of it are cheapened by frequent repetition until the meaning and power of the first utterance are lost. What would the reading of Henry's immortal sentences be to a man who had not heard them caricatured every week of his schooldays, or, better, if he had never heard them at all? And how much more would they have meant if he could have been with the second convention of colonial Virginia in the old church at Kichmond, listen- ing with delight or amazement to the speaker's practical declaration of war against the foremost nation of Europe, and to the message of freedom for a people of whose future the orator himself did not dream? If all that went with that speech could have been preserved with the imperfect report of it, the literature of power would have no greater and more important example in this country. But nine parts of it are gone — gone with the thrilling voice, the overwhelming personality, the pro- phetic vision of the man who was most alive to the tremendous issue, and who had already heard from afar the "clanking of chains" and the "clash of resounding arms," but not with fear. The loss of liberty, not death, was to be feared. Of all this the traditions only remain, which have been gathered up as ashes in the urn of history. Nevertheless there was a day one hundred and twenty-seven years ago when heroic thoughts, arrayed in words of power, swept the doubtful and the fearful along with the hopeful and the confident in the single 134 American Literature purpose to find liberty or death. Therefore these potent words of the foremost orator of his time will always be ranked with the best remembered utterances in all the record of that literature which moves and inspires. There were other orators in the South who would have had a greater fame if Henry had not outshone them, other South- I^ichard Henry Lee was ranked with him by era Orators, qq^q ^\^q cousidercd Lee's harmonious voice and choice diction matched only by the former's natural gifts of persuasive speech. In a measure the same might have been said of John Kutledge, Edmund Eandolph, George Mason, Edmund Pendleton, and the broad-minded South Carolinian, Christopher Gadsden, who voiced the sober sentiment of the greatest number when he said: "We should stand upon the broad common ground of those natural rights that we all feel and know as men and as descendants of Englishmen. There ought to be no New England man, no New Yorker, known on the continent, but all of us Americans." George Washington was almost the only man of eminence in the South who did not dis- tinguish himself at one time or another in the discussions which culminated in the war for independence. His part in that could excuse him from contributing to the forensic literature of the time. While this was growing luxuriantly in a region always favorable to its development, a similar outburst occurred Northern ^ ^^® North. The efficiency of James Otis Orators. ^^^ Samucl Adams as writers was supple- mented by their oral discourse. Adams was the most frequent speaker in Boston town-meetings. He spoke as a man of affairs whose opinions were of more conse- quence to himself and others than the phrases in which Writers and Speakers of the Revolution 135 they were clothed. On ordinary topics his manner was business-like, but under the stress of a great occasion he rose to the emergency and the opportunity. With Otis the occasion was made great by the brilliance of his treatment. He made clear the character of colo- nial rights and asserted them with daring. In his early speech against writs of assistance John Adams called him "a flame of fire." "His torrent of impet- uous eloquence bore all before him. American inde- pendence was then and there born. Every man went away ready to take arms." The next year his impas- sioned oratory placed him at the head of the popular party, and won for him the title of " the great incendiary of New England." As in the South so in the North there were other speakers whose eloquence has been forgotten in the greater splendor of their statesmanship. Hamilton, Jay, John Adams, Madison, Quincy, Livingston, Morris, and Clinton were able to maintain their views with voice as well as pen, or sword, if necessity required. There is less need to call attention to their legacy to the literature of oratory, because it is known to every youth who has had to declaim in school For this reason the best portion of our colonial production may be passed lightly over and dismissed with the remark that at least in this respect, as in another, the leaders of opinion were able to stand before kings and contend with parliaments. Of the poets and poetry of the Kevolution period so much cannot be said as of its orators and eloquence. The writhing age of rhyme was past, to be sure, Revolution with its vain conceits and fearful measures, ^°^^^' but a classic era had not taken its place. The strain to 136 American Literature keep up good courage is the most evident quality in the verse of war and its emphatic politics. " We never will knock under, George ! we do not fear The rattling of your thunder, Nor lightening of your spear ; Though rebels you declare us, We 're strangers to dismay ; Therefore you cannot scare us In North America " is the tone of a song which covered a large portion of this period under the caption of " Taxation of America." Philip Freneau, the principal versifier of the time, wrote in this manner of "Emancipation from British Dependence " : " From a junto that labor for absolute power, Whose schemes disapointed have made them look sour; From the lords of the council, who fight against freedom Who stni follow on where delusion shall lead 'em. *< From groups at St. James's who slight our petitions, And fools that are waiting for further submissions ; From a nation whose manners are rough and abrupt. From scoundrels and rascals whom gold can corrupt.'* And of Prince William, afterward William IV. : " Prince William, of the Brunswick race, To witness George's sad disgrace The royal lad came over, Kebels to kill, by right divine — Derived from that illustrious line, The beggars of Hanover. « * I am of royal birth, 't is true, But what, my sons, can princes do, No armies to command 1 ■ Comwallis conquered and distrest — Sir Henry Clinton grovna a jest — I curse — and quit the land.' " Writers and Speakers of the Revolution 137 Of Eutaw Springs : " At Eutaw Springs the valiant died : Their limbs with dust are covered o*er — Weep on, ye springs, your fearful tide ; How many heroes are no more ! * Now rest in peace, our patriot band ; Though far from Nature's limits thrown, We trust they find a happier land, A brighter sunshine of their own." The above is as good as the best that was written and the following is not quite so bad as the worst, Burgoyne being the hero : ** When Jack, the King's commander. Was going to his duty, Through all the crowd he smiled and bowed To every blooming beauty. " Then off he went to Canada, Next to Ticonderoga, And quitting these away he goes Straightway to Saratoga. ** In vain they fought, in vain they fled, Their chief, humane and tender, To save the rest soon thought it best His forces to surrender." The poetic spirit of 76 was well reproduced as late as 1849 in Guy Humphrey McMaster's " Carmen Bellico- sum ; " " In their ragged regimentals Stood the old continentals. Yielding not, When the grenadiers were lunging, And like hail the shot fell plunging Cannon shot ; When the files Of the isles 138 American Literature From the smoky night-encampment bore the banner of the rampant Unicorn And grummer, grummer, grummer rolled the roll of the drummer, Through the mom ! " Then with eyes to the front all, And with guns horizontal Stood our sires ; And the balls whistled deadly, And in streams flashing redly Blazed the fires ; As the roar On the shore. Swept the strong battle breakers o'er the green sodded acres Of the plain ; And louder, louder, louder cracked the black gunpowder, Cracking amain. ** Then the old-fashioned colonel Galloped through the white, infernal Powder cloud \ And his broad sword was swinging, And his brazen throat was ringing Trumpet loud. Then the blue Bullets flew And the trooper jackets redden at the touch of the leaden Rifle breath ; And rounder, rounder, rounder roared the iron six pounder Hurling death ! ** It is fortunate that the success of the patriot cause did not depend upon the genius of its poets. Still, poor as they were, their songs were popular, and cheered the hearts of the yeomen, who won at last in spite of regular troops and irregular verses. As the close of the colonial period is reached, a hack- ward glance over the dry places of literature through which we have passed has its compensations. A varying Writers and Speakers of the Revolution 139 progress is discernible from the barrenness of a diarizing age through the narrowness of a dogmatic and the viru- lence of controversial and polemic periods to j^^^^^. the broader and more generous sympathies of *p«*^**^«* outer-world ideas, and at length into a higher sphere of independence in political thought and its expression. Crudeness and affectation, pedantry and contortion had their day, and finally yielded to more sensible methods in prose and the beginning of a true poetic spirit in verse. How much more might have been accomplished, and how much earlier, if the forefathers had not persistently turned their backs upon contemporary letters in England and followed homespun patterns with exclusive devotion, is a question which may be discussed elsewhere but for which there is no room here. No one is more willing than the present writer to grant all that can be claimed for the foundation work which was done by the Pilgrims and Puritans and their successors in the colonial period in the direction of political righteousness, notwithstanding their backward look to the Pentateuch for their methods of administration. But founding an empire or a republic is not making a literature. If it is objected that they were too busy about the one to attend to the other, it may be answered that ministers and magistrates and others found leisure to write volumes of literature, such as it was. Ac- cordingly it is impossible to agree with those writers who have discovered great achievement in what the colonists wrote for the first hundred and fifty years, since, measured by the standard of contemporary English writings, the disparity between the two is painfully apparent. If it be urged that the colonists were removed from English influ- ences by the width of the Atlantic, it must be admitted 140 American Literature that ships came across in from three to six weeks, bring- ing up-to-date fashions and fabrics, and the best of teas, spices, and wines. Invoices show that books also came with other luxuries, but not the books which were read in England then that are called classic now. Instead, as booksellers* inventories and lists of academic and private libraries reveal, importations were chiefly of dreary tomes of sectarian theology, largely in Latin, and such other treatises and tracts as may be found, for in- stance, in the library catalogue of the younger Winthrop, a representative man of letters in his day. Such books as people read they wrote, often incorporating an Hebraic element paralleled by the Israelitish names of their sons and daughters for three generations, and entailed for three more. These domestic products were read and imitated more even than the transatlantic volumes they imported, and at one time literary manner went from bad to worse. When Franklin broke with the tradition of the elders — the first man of letters to deserve the name, foremost also in science and the higher politics, he opened the door to contemporary English literature. The beginnings of a creditable American literature were to follow with the independence of the nation, though not by boastful revolt from English models, nor again by servile imitation of them. These inevitable elements, however, were to dis- appear with the growth of a cosmopolitan spirit and a larger hospitality towards outland literatures. It is by reviewing these later achievements rather than those of provincial centuries that better reasons for complacency will be discovered. The National Period 1783— 1902 " The time will arrive when the Americans as a people wiU take pride in a literature of their ovm^ and realize that a National Liter- ature is a National Power.^^ William I. Paulding. XIII POLITICAL WRITERS OF THE CRITICAL PERIOD Eeaders who have followed the growth of American letters in chapters on the colonial period should know that what was written between 1607 and 1783 R€sum6. was m a sense preparatory to the later devel- opment of our literature. It began with the " advertise- ments" of settlers at Jamestown and Plymouth to the countrymen they had left behind in England with a view to induce further immigration. Diaries and journals and annals of colonial life followed, furnishing the materials for future histories. A theocratic form of government next inspired a theological literature full of controversy, which was succeeded by political writings of marked vigor and abihty as the question of separation from Great Britain came to the front. Interspersed with these prose writings was a by-product of verse, in psalms, eulo- gies, and dirges at first, and finally in patriotic or loyalist ballads. In both prose and verse styles of diction pre- vailed which were sometimes Hebraic and sometimes fantastic, but commonly artificial, except when in the later years strong emotions made writers forget them- selves and the fashion of their age. This was particularly the case in the revolution period, when fiery pamphleteer- ing cleared the air of nonsense and taught men to say what they meant. Even then there was at times some of 143 144 American Literature the stateliness of colonial manners and the gorgeousness of the continental costume in deliberate writing. There was no immediate change in literary habits when the independence of the colonies was established in 1783. Transition ^ peoplc could not adjust thcmsclves to a new Gradual. condition 6f liberty in a day or year after their life of a century and three-quarters as subject provinces. Neither could they get out of the ruts of thought and expression in which they had been brought up. More- over, in the live years succeeding the end of the war there were causes which continued to literature the complexion it had during the war. If it was controversial then, when the majority were for freedom from British rule, what could be expected when opinion was much divided about the form of government that should be adopted ? Indeed, opposition and disputation had become chronic. The Declaration of Independence was passed with difficulty ; the war was prolonged by dissent and disagreement, and now the plan of union was to be five years in getting itself adjusted to provincial notions. This process made a continuation of political literature inevitable. Men who eight years before dropped their pens and picked up swords now hung these over the fire- place and returned to their desks. Many who had in these years of fighting kept up a wordy war protracted it until the Constitution was adopted, believing that the fruit of all the sacrifice made would be lost with the rejection of their own theories of government. Hence followed a new instalment of political literature whose importance in tiding the new nation over dangerous shoals cannot be overestimated. The men who contributed to it were principally those Political Writers of the Critical Period 145 who had guided the war to its successful issue. There was enough opposition among them to give zest and point to the writings of all in discussing the ques- pomicai tion of changing the confederacy to a union c°°*'"ov«"y' of states. The leaders in this great debate were Samuel Adams, Patrick Henry, and Thomas Jefferson on the side of the established government, such as it was, which had carried on the war after its own fashion. But its faults were known. The perils of the proposed system were not known. Henry spoke for the others when he said : " This proposal of altering our federal government is of a most alarming nature ; make the best of this new government — say it is composed by anything but inspiration — you ought to be extremely cautious, watchful, jealous of your liberty ; for instead of securing your rights you may lose them forever. If a wrong step be now made, the republic may be lost forever . . . and tyranny must and will arise." The views of Adams and Jefferson were similar, and their defence of them constitutes a part of their works and of the best literature of the period. On the other side were ranged Alexander Hamilton, John Jay, and James Madison as leaders of the party for the adoption of the Constitution. With ^^^ them were associated George Washington, '*^^^^^^^^^" JTohn Adams, Fisher Ames, Thomas Paine, Albert Gal- latin, John Marshall, and Joseph Story. The first three — Hamilton, Jay, and Madison — made the " Federalist " famous as the leading collection of political writings in this long and violent controversy. The Constitution had been called a " triple-headed monster " and as " deep and wicked a conspiracy as eve^ was invented in the darkest ages against the liberties of a free people." Evidently 10 146 American Literature some one must arise to its defence and explanation. Hamilton undertook this, with the help of Madison and Jay, in eighty-five short essays, published in the " Inde- pendent Gazetteer of New York" in 1787-8, of which Hamilton himself wrote fifty-one. They did for the adop- tion of the Constitution what Paine's essays did for the Declaration of Independence. The writers did not have the creation of literature in mind so much as of a new government. Incidentally they accomplished the first while laboring with all their might for the second, pro- ducing not only " the most profound and suggestive series of papers on government that has ever been written," but also a group of writings which reflect the spirit of liberty guided and controlled by the wisest law. In addition, the collection has literary values which cannot be over- looked. The clearness and directness of the opening article declare in unmistakable terms the purpose of the writer and the importance of the question to be dis- cussed. They recall the positiveness of the Declaration of Independence. " After an unequivocal experience of the inefficacy of the sub- sisting federal government, you are called upon to deliberate on a new Constitution for the United States of America. The sub- ject speaks its own importance; comprehending in its conse- quences nothing less than the existence of the union, the safety and welfare of the parts of which it is composed, the fate of an empire in many respects the most interesting in the world. It has been frequently remarked that it seems to have been reserved to the people of this country, by their conduct and example, to decide the important question whether societies of men are really capable or not of establishing good government from reflection and choice or whether they are forever destined to depend for their political constitutions on accident and force. Political Writers of the Critical Period 147 The crisis at which we are arrived may with propriety be re- garded as the era in which that decision is to be made ; and a wrong election of the part we shall act, may, in this view, de- serve to be considered as the general . misfortune of mankind. ... I propose, in a series of papers, to discuss the following interesting particulars — The utility of the Union to your politi- cal prosperity — The insufficiency of the present Confederation to preserve that Union — The necessity of a government, at least equally energetic with the one proposed, to the attainment of this object — The conformity of the proposed Constitution to the true principles of republican government — Its analogy to your own State Constitution — and lastly The additional se- curity which its adoption will afford to the preservation of that species of government, to liberty, and to property." After this outline of the general course the discussion would take, the three writers, over the common signature of " Publius," take up such topics as the " Dangers from foreign force and influence ; " " The Union as a safeguard against domestic faction and insurrection ; " " The Militia ; '* "Taxation;" "House of Eepresentatives ; " "The Execu- tive and Judiciary;" "Powers vested in the Union." These and other matters are presented fully, sometimes in several papers, and so clearly that the citizen of that day had little difficulty in understanding the writer's grounds for his appeal, an appeal which in the end was effective beyond the immediate constituency addressed. The man who could write the above Introduction in the cabin of a river sloop had his subject well in hand, to say the least. He also had knowledge of the times sufficient to recognize that the period was a critical one in the life of the nation, and that imperialism threatened its exist- ence on one side and anarchy on the other. His own aim was to call men away from the separatism and individual- 148 American Literature ism which had been bred in and in from colonial begin- nings in colonial seclusion and exclusiveness, now cropping out in the rights which each new state desired to keep, surrendering little or nothing to that union of all which alone had brought them through recent perils. He frankly admits that he is on the side of this union, a view of affairs not so familiar then as it is now, and regarded by- many with doubt and suspicion. They considered thir- teen states along the coast as too many to be held together or, if possible, that centralization of govern- ment would end in imperialism. Accordingly Hamilton proposes to meet their objections and to show the utility of union, the insufficiency of the present confederation, the necessity of a stronger government, the conformity of the Constitution to republican principles, the additional secur- ity it will afford to liberty and to property, and the inevitable dismemberment that would follow a rejection of the proposed Constitution. It is impracticable, of course, to review the discussion of these vital topics here even in outline. It must be read to appreciate the wisdom of its views and the dignity and moderation with which they are presented. Much may be argued for the good sense of a people to whom such a series of articles could be addressed with the ex- pectation that they would be carefully read and thought- fully pondered. That they were so received is evident from their continuation through eighty-five numbers and their repeated issue in edition after edition when they were completed. That they were successful in their pur- pose is established by the fact that the particular com- munity to which they were addressed was induced to do that which the majority had informally declared it would Political Writers of the Critical Period 149 not do; and the people of New York, accepting this interpretation of the Constitution as true, determined to favor its establishment between their own state and the other states of the Union. The " Federalist " had a similar efficacy wherever it was read. The men who wrote it were Americans rather than provincials. They were statesmen and foremost thinkers in a time which called for profound and earnest reflection on questions of im- mense consequence. Other papers were written by their peers in other journals, but this collection is preeminent among them all. It marked the culmination of political writing in an age of the highest political thought and action. It was the work of the giants which were in those days, who were also framers of the Constitution itself. Accordingly, it has seemed imperative to call particular attention to a production which is sometimes spoken of as a series of newspaper articles, or as a partisan view of a question that has long since been settled. That these articles were not ephemeral is shown by their re- peated reproduction to the present day in twenty editions. That they are something more than a Whig document is evidenced by the fact that they are the best interpreters- of the intents and purposes which the builders of the nation had when they framed the Constitution of the United States. This instrument itself cannot be well understood without the contemporary commentary of the " Federalist.'* Keference has already been made to the writings of the group of statesmen who were both the product of this critical period and the agents in bringing it other Pout- about. They were as a rule voluminous writ- **^*^ wnters. ers. When the few books which were at their command 150 American Literature are considered, as compared with present accumulations, their creative resources are remarkable. They pondered diligently and wrote continuously. As a consequence their works fill volumes. These have not been perused or often consulted by the average reader in the latter part of the century following their production as they were in the former, but, with the revival of interest in American history and literature, and the growing habit of investi- gating original documents and writings, the worth of them will be rediscovered. Especially to those who incline to a study of the highest political science and the nature of republican forms of government will these writings of the founders of our own be a literature in which they may take both delight and pride. It was this which first won'- attention to us in other countries. In England, because the loss of colonies was impending ; on the continent of Europe, because of a widespread sympathy with the cause which was so clearly stated and ably defended. The new nation had not yet attained to the graces of literature, but the strength and vigor which ought to precede these were abundant. The foundations of empire and of letters were laid simultaneously by Franklin and Adams and Otis, by Jefferson and Henry and Hamilton, by John Adams and Quincy Adams, by Paine and Marshall, and the rest of the constellation of publicists which ruled in the ascendant at the birth of the nation. To them the student of constitutional history will turn as to the authors of the best of constitutions, and the student of letters as to writers of a literature political in its character, but as diversified in its form as the personality of its makers. As in a former chapter on some of the pre-revolution writers, it may be added that the works of the above- Political Writers of the Critical Period 151 mentioned statesmen are accessible in most public libraries in one or more editions. Tables of contents and indexes will refer readers to such topics as may be of particular interest. Biographical accounts are abundant in the vol- umes of the American Statesmen series and elsewhere. XIV EPICS AND DRAMAS The writings of statesmen in the closing period of the eighteenth century were not equalled by other contempo- rary literature. There was no such absorbing motive in other departments to give the unconsciousness of self in which best results are produced. Few periods have had such an overpowering stimulus to intense yet logical ex- position of privileges which are essential to constitutional liberty. The literature which resulted ought to have been and was exceptional prose. The verse which accompanied it was exceptional too, but not in the same way. All ballads were of course inspired Trumbull's ^J patriotic or loyalist sentiments. Even when "McFingai." j^j^^^ Trumbull's long poem, "McFingal," ap- peared it could be referred to the same kind of inspira- tion. Still, the channel in which the patriotism of the youthful verse-maker flowed was inevitably narrowed by its prevailing satire. This was effective, as no one can deny, and by its mirth-provoking sallies did good service for a good cause. It is not to so much purpose to inquire here who furnished the copy which he followed with greater or less fidelity — whether Hudibras, Combe, or some other — as to know that the help furnished was not after the manner nor in the degree of the aid lent by the political prose of the day. A few lines of it will give the pitch and tone, rhyme and metre. 152 Epics and Dramas 153 " Great Squire McFingal," the Tory magistrate, is started in this manner : " His high descent our heralds trace To Ossian's famed Fingahan race. For though their name some part may lack Old Fingal spelt it with a Mac ; Which great McPherson, with submission We hope will add, the next edition. His fathers flourished in the Highlands Of Scotia's fog-benighted islands ; Whence gained our Squire two gifts by right, RebelHon and the Second-sight. Thus stored with intellectual riches, Skilled was our Squire in making speeches, Where strength of brain united centers With strength of lungs surpassing Stentor's." These gifts he exercises at the gathering place of the clans — the meeting-house and in town-meeting. " And now the town was summoned greeting, To grand parading of town-meeting ; To show that strangers might appall. As Rome's grave senate did the Gaul. High o'er the rout, on pulpit stairs. Like den of thieves in house of prayers, (That house, which loth a rule to break, Serv'd heav'n but one day in a week, Open the rest for all supplies Of news and politics and lies.) Stood forth the constable and bore His staff, like Mercery's wand of yore, Wav'd potent round, the peace to keep. As that laid dead men's souls to sleep. Above and near the hermitic staflT, The moderator's upper half. In grandeur o'er the cushion bow'd, Like Sol half-seen behind a cloud. Beneath stood voters of all colours, Whigs, Tories, orators and bawlers, 154 American Literature With ev'ry tongue in either faction, Prepar'd, like minute-men, for action ; Where truth and falsehood, wrong and right, Drew all their legions out to fight ; With equal uproar, scarcely rave, Opposing winds in Coins' cave. Such dialogues with earnest face Held never Balaam with his ass." As the debate gets high "... our Squire No longer could contain his ire ; And rising 'midst applauding Tories, Thus vented wrath upon Honorius. " Quoth he, ' 'T is wondrous what strange stuff Your Whig's-heads are compounded of ; Which force of logic cannot pierce Nor syllogistic carte and tierce, Nor weight of scripture or of reason, Suffice to make the least impression. Ye prate and beg and steal the question ; And when your boasted arguings fail, Strait leave all reas'ning off, to rail. " ' About Rebellion make a pother, From one end of the land to th' other, And yet gain'd fewer pros'lyte Whigs, Than old St. Anth'ny 'mongst the pigs ; And chang'd not half so many vicious As Austin, when he preach'd to fishes ; Who, throng'd to hear, the legend tells, Were edified and wagg'd their tails ; But scarce you'd prove it, if you tried, That e'er one Whig was edified.' " In this style the valiant Squire storms on for three hundred lines with interruptions enough from the Whig Honorius to keep his eloquence at concert pitch, ** In true sublime of scarecrow style." Epics and Dramas 155 Indeed this line of the poet's might be applied to much of his amusing and truly patriotic effusion, had not his friend President D wight assured the public that " without any partiality, McFingal is not inferior in wit and humor to Hudibras ; and in every other respect is superior. . . . The versification is far better, the poetry is in several instances in a good degree elegant, and in some even sub- lime." The question between contemporary commenda- tion and criticism and that of the present day is as to the kind of subhmity, and if it is at all like that which the poet attributed to Judge Sewall in the line last quoted. It should not be forgotten, however, that these Yale men, Trumbull, Dwight, Barlow, and the rest, were the first to give a fresh impulse to the literature of the new nation, and if their ambition outran their performance it was a commendable quality, even if the levels in wliich it ran were sometimes too high or too low. Nothing but the controversy which had its participants on both sides, in England as well as in America, could have carried this mock heroic performance through several editions. Besides, the literary taste of the time in poetics was not far above this plane. We can be grateful to the author for winning supporters whom statesmen could not ; but it is not necessary on this account to call him an emi- nent poet. However, he did not aspire to write an epic, as two of his contemporaries did. But they had their sense of obli- gation as citizens and men of letters in the young America that had just been released from old England. A new and free nation of almost boundless expanse, with limit- less prospects and high hopes, it was urged, should have a commensurate literature, or the beginning of it, at least. 156 American Literature A patriotic aspiration of this kind must have impelled Timothy Dwight, president of Yale College, to undertake, in 1785, his "Conquest of Canaan," the first Dwight's . . "Conquest of American epic, as the author calls it. The Canaan." resemblance it bears to those which had pre- ceded it, notably the " Iliad " and " Paradise Lost," con- sists largely in the antiquity of the subject. Differences must be explained by saying that Homer, and Virgil, and Milton were bom to be poets, as the American was born to be a college president and a diligent and persevering versifier. Genius is not always the faculty of taking pains. If it were, the " Conquest of Canaan " would not practically have perished in a hundred years. Neverthe- less it is worth reading — some of it. Biblical students will be pleased to note what side lights can be thrown upon the sacred story by a poetic imagination, if they read as far as the eleventh book. The crookedness of Hanniel, the loves of Irad and Selima, of Elam and Mina, the ghost of Herzon, the prowess of Jabin, the valor of Zimri, are for the modern reader what the miracle and mystery plays were to the dark ages. Modern battlefields and revolu- tionary generals are somewhat belated actors, but the heroes just returned from Monmouth and Yorktown did not object to being in company with Caleb and Joshua. They read their Bibles as diligently as their descendants peruse a Sunday newspaper ; and they understood a scrip- tural allusion or an Old Testament hero a great deal better. And as for the versification, the rhymes of Dwight were as good in their esteem as Pope's translation of the " Iliad," and his characters not inferior to Milton's in their biblical derivation. It was a book for the age by a counsellor of statesmen and a theologian. He, if any Epics and Dramas 157 one, could meet the demands of the youthful nation for an epic of its own, as he had been the first to give it the name "Columbia." Moreover, a note of progress might be discerned from one to the other of three epics, and a humanistic element could be found in the "Conquest" which was not in the "Iliad" or in "Paradise Lost." Even the oratory of the Argive leaders or that of Satan himself is at least recalled by Caleb's address to the assembled host: " The great concluding day Now calls to arms, and heaven directs the way ; What though unnumbered hosts against us rise, And with proud madness brave insulted skies ; Shall cumbrous throngs the meanest arm dismay ? Or one base thought disdain the glorious day ? Think how bold Abraham swept the midnight plain, While realms opposed and millions fought in vain. If slaves, or men, this day your hands decide, The scorn of nations, or the world's great pride ; Empire and bondage in your bosoms lie ; *T is yours to triumph or 't is ours to die." Our great and greater grandfathers revelled in this, and were not ashamed to liken it to the Homer of Pope and to the verse of Milton. In the battle before Ai, Book VI., the poet's historic imagination oscillates between Canaan and Connecticut : " The hero spoke ; and urged by passion's force, On furious Carmi bent his aged course ; Awful in gleam of arms, the chiefs appear, Here the bold youth, the white-haired hero there : But ere his sword great Herzon could extend, Or circling bands their ancient chief defend, A long, bright lance his wary foe beheld. And snatch'd it glittering on the bloody field ; 158 American Literature Swift through the hero's side he forced the steel ; Pierced to the heart, the aged warrior fell ; There lay, a corse, bespread with purple stains, The form, that triumphed on a hundred plains. " On Ridgefield's hills, to shame, to virtue dead. Thus dastard bands the foe inglorious fled ; When Wooster singly braved the deathful ground, Fir'd hosts in vain and met the fatal wound. In dangers born, to arms in childhood train'd. From Gallia's heroes many a palm he gain'd With freedom's sacred name serenely glow'd For justice arm'd, and fought the field for God." This is Homeric, Hebraic, and patriotic, and therefore was poetic to our forefathers. So was the following from Book VII. : " So frowned dread night on Abraham's fatal plain When thou, Montgomery, pride of chiefs, was slain. Spare, sons of freedom, spare that generous tear ; To heaven resign, nor name the doom severe. Great, brave, and just to ward Columbia's shame, He hunted toil in fields of growing fame ; Ahve, fair Victory ne'er forsook his side ; He lived in triumph and in glory died. Glued to his side, t' untimely fate a prey. There bright Macpherson breath'd his life away." The climax or anti-climax was reached when Joel Barlow wrote his "Vision of Columbus," afterward de- veloped into the " Columbiad." The very title " Vision of was sublimated American, and the poem was Columbus." regarded as a " tremendous epic" in its day. With mitigated modesty the writer declares that he shall not try to prove that he has written an epic poem. Nevertheless he ranks the " Iliad " and the " ^neid" in the same class with his own "Columbiad," which he sends forth " with no other concern than what arises Epics and Dramas 159 from the most pure and ardent desire of doing good to the country." Barlow was a type of the cultivated and patriotic young American of his day. He belonged to the Dwight-Trum- bull knot of young men in Yale College who were the first in the country to break away from the traditions of the elders and devote themselves to a study of outland literature in the English classics. In vacations he shoul- dered a musket and fought bravely with the Massachusetts militia in the opening battles of the Kevolution. His Com- mencement part in 1778 was a poem on " The Prospect of Peace," hopeful, enthusiastic, expansive, prophetic : " What wide extent her waving ensigns claim, Lands yet unknown and streams without a name." As there was a shortage of chaplains in the army, the young law student crammed himself with enough divinity in six weeks for camp purposes, and with his friend Dwight went in and out among the troops, animating and encour- aging them by patriotic addresses and odes. Turning editor — and doctor of Watt's version of the psalms to make them fit the regnant theology — he meditated and composed by turns " The Vision," which was received with applause by friends and reprinted in London and Paris. It anticipated by a year the one-sided philanthropy and erratic enthusiasm of the French Eevolution, and in conse- quence the author, when he arrived in France, was wel- come to give his " Advice to Privileged Orders," and follow it with his poem on the " Conspiracy of Kings." The design of Barlow's masterpiece, " The Columbiad," evolved from "The Vision," was to give an historical view of events from the time of Columbus to that of i6o American Literature Washington, as foreseen by the great discoverer from his prison in Spain. Conducted by Hesper to the Mount of "TheCoium- ^ision, hc takes a long lesson in American geography and the history of Mexico and Peru. The story of colonization by Ealeigh and others follows, preparing the way for the old French and theEevolu- tionary wars. Officers in the latter are thus signalized : " Here stood stem Putnam, scored with ancient scars, The living records of his country's wars ; Wayne, like a moving tower, assumes his post, Fires the whole field and is himself a host. Bland, Moyland, Sheldon, the long lines enforce With light arm'd scouts, with solid squares of horse. And Knox from his full park to battle brings His brazen tubes, the last resort of kings. When at his word the carbon cloud shall rise And well-aimed thunders rock the shores and skies." An imagined catastrophe is reached at Yorktown : " But while the fusing fireballs scorch the sky, Their mining arts the stanch besiegers ply, Delve from the bank of York and gallery far, Deep subterranean, to the mount of war ; Beneath the ditch, thro' rocks and fens they go, Scoop the dark chamber plumb beneath the foe ; There lodge their tons of powder and retire, Mure the dread passage, wave the fatal fire. Send a swift messenger to warn the foe To seek his safety and the post forego." As he sends back a taunting reply this happens : ** Burst with the blast the reeling mountain roars, Heaves, labors, boils and through the concave pours His flaming contents high ; he chokes the air With all his warriors and their works of war j Guns, bastions, magazines, confounded fly. Vault wide their fresh explosions o'er the sky, Incumber each far camp and plow profound With their rude fragments every neighboring ground. Epics and Dramas i6i After this burst it is not strange that the t)ig guns for coast defence were called Columbiads. Indeed, Barlow's theory was that the modern epic poet had an advantage over the ancient " in respect to the names, number and variety of weapons used in war; and that the shock of modern armies is more sonorous and more discoloring to the face of nature," and he exclaims, " What might not Homer have done if he had had the battle of Blenheim to describe ! " To which may be added. What might not Barlow have done armed with a modern dictionary at the battle of Gettysburg ! And yet when he is giving generous praise to his coterie he descends to unstrained diction : " See Trumbull lead the train ; his skilful hand Hurls the keen darts of satire round the land. Pride, knavery, dulness, feel his mortal stings, And listening virtue triumphs while he singg. ** On wings of faith to elevate the soul, Beyond the bourn of earth's benighted pole, For Dwight's high harp the Epic Muse sublime Hails her new empire in the western clime.'* The apotheosis of Progress occurs in the Apocalypse of Barlow to Columbus in the last book : *^ From Mohawk's mouth, far westing with the sun, Through all the midlands recent channels run, Tap the redundant lakes, the broad hills brave, And Hudson marry with Missouri's wave. From dim Superior, whose uncounted sails Shade his full seas and bosom all his gales. New paths unfolding seek Mackenzie's tide, And towns and empires rise along their side. Slave's crystal highways all his north adorn Like coruscations from the boreal mom." Of this tonitrous composition the modern reader might weary unless he should get interested in the fortunes of 11 1 62 American Literature the Peruvian Inca, Capac, in the third book. By that time he will have had what a modern essayist calls a " struggle with those merciful tendencies in the human organization which safely wrap the overwhelmed mind in the blessed- ness of sleep." In this effort to keep awake he will be helped now and then by such startling lines as these : '* And suns infulminate the stormf ul sky ; " " Commercing squadrons o'er the billows bound ; " " When one great cosmogyre has proved their spheres ; " and other such lines, which, in Barlow's own words are : " Like coruscations from the boreal morn." Meantime it must be remembered that these " tonations " were composed for the beginning-of-the-century generation which lived a hundred years ago. The measure and the rhyme were satisfactory, and the big word stood for its idea of the sublima If not quite comprehended, the mystery and awe were all the greater, and so were the reputation of the poet and the sale of his verse. Still, it is to be feared that this rhymer's " Hasty Pudding," composed far from his New England home, in Switzerland, had a longer popularity than his ambitious epic. It was in this post-revolution period that the first in- timation of a submerged dramatic tendency bubbled up RiseofAmer- ^ ^^® surface from the ooze where it was ican Drama, g^^^ ^^^ hundred and fifty years before. Puri- tan laws and frowns had kept it out of sight and hearing thus far. Hospitable Virginia had allowed the " Merchant of Venice " to be acted by professionals in Williamsburg as early as 1752, and Farquhar's "Beaux's Stratagem" was played the same year at Annapolis, in the first / American theatre, which was followed by a second. Epics and Dramas 163 built in New York the next year, and another in Phila- delphia six years later. But in Massachusetts previous to 1792 players appeared on the stage at the risk of arrest. Only in unorthodox Khode Island, and under the patron- age of planters who came to Newport, were they safe within the bounds of New England. As early as 1765 Thomas Godfrey of Philadelphia had peeped in a closet drama, entitled, " The Prince of Parthia," but Koyall Tyler of New York was the first domestic play-writer to put a piece upon the stage. He called it "The Contrast," possibly with reference to the change in public sentiment since Massachusetts enacted an ordinance, in imitation of Cromwell's parliament in 1642, abolishing theatres. This act was annulled in England fourteen years later, but here there was no relenting until one hundred and seventy years after the Pilgrims came to Plymouth. Under such a regime not much could be expected of American dra- matic talent. When at length it dared to appear on the boards it seemed not to the manner born. The tragedy was high enough and the comedy low enough, but the Eliza-, bethan dramatist, or even the Kestoration playwright, had not accompanied the star of empire westward. Have they yet arrived? Still there were home-made plays which pleased pro- vincials by their local color and hits, and as good a beginning was made as could be expected in a climate which ranged from temperate to frigid in the matter of dramatics. What need was there of tragedy representa- tion in old colony days when the genuine article could be had by standing in front of the meeting-house near the whipping-post, stocks, and pillory, or by climbing the hill where the gallows loomed stark against a wintry sky? / 164 American Literature And as for comedy, it might be had -whenever a pirate crew was brought ashore or a knot of witches convicted. The Puritan boy was not without his diversions. For a while he had no need of theatre or circus. When, how- ever, his primitive entertainments went out of fashion it was unfair to expect counterfeits to take their place all at once or to be satisfactory. Had not everything fictitious been sternly forbidden and painfully discouraged? Ac- cordingly, the early American drama should not be scrutinized too sharply nor expected too soon. Tyler, Dunlap, and Payne made the best beginning they could with such plays as " May Day in New York," " The Father of an Only Child," " Brutus," and " Therese," all of which were appreciated at home and some in London. Dunlap's interlude of "Danby's Keturn" drew unaccus- tomed laughter from the grave Washington and sym- pathetic merriment from all who were watching to see how he would take an allusion to himself. But no one unearths these old provincial tragedies and comedies for present reading, and a company which should venture to reproduce them would not undertake their repetition a second night. Their flavor is gone with the generation for which they were written. XV EARLY FICTION Fiction followed the drama in America, as elsewhere. Also, as in the case of the drama, its beginnings were feeble. Susanna Haswell came to Nantasket, Massachusetts, as a child with her father, a British naval officer, in 1766. Inclined to literary pursuits, she was encour- susanna aged by James Otis and others, and in 1786 ^°"^'°°- wrote "Victoria," a two-volume story from real life, marry- ing the same year WilUam Eowson of London, trumpeter in the Horse Guards. Two years after, she published "The Inquisitor," a three-decker in the manuer of Lau- rence Sterne, and returned to England. There, in 1790, she issued " Charlotte Temple, a Tale of Truth," and came back to the United States three years afterward. It is the last story, reissued here in 1794, and sometimes called the first American novel, that has survived the earlier. It was as little a creation of the imagination as were the names of the principal characters, Charlotte Temple being Charlotte Stanley, and John MontraviUe being John Montressor. But the book was a great success in its day. Twenty-five hundred copies were sold within a few years. Its popularity was long-lived, and as late as 1892 it was republished in paper covers and entered as " second- class matter" at the New York postoffice with an irony that was presumably unconscious. However, it was not 165 1 66 American Literature considered second-class one hundred and ten years ago, when our grandmothers sighed and wept over it. The plot is simple and the story as old as the captivating fascination of brass buttons and epaulettes. A British officer, bound for the American war, entices a schoolgirl to share his fortunes. She trusts in the usual vows of fidelity. Both belonged to the nobility. That was the English side of the story. The American was the cus- tomary sequence of desertion, disgrace, and death ; all of it told in a style that never was on land or sea, except in an eighteenth century novel. " * Where is Charlotte 1 ' said he. * Why does not my child come to welcome her doting parent ? ' " * Be composed, my dear sir,' said Mme. Du Pont. * Do not frighten yourself unnecessarily. She is not in the house at present, but, as mademoiselle is undoubtedly with her, she will speedily return in safety and I hope they will both be able to account for this unseasonable absence in such a manner as shall remove our present uneasiness.* " * Madame,' cried the old man with an angry look, * has my child been accustomed to go out without leave, with no other company or protection than that Frenchwoman? Pardon me, madame, I mean no reflections on your country, but I never did like Madame La Eue ; I think she is a very improper person to be intrusted with the care of such a girl as Charlotte Temple, or to be suffered to take her from under your immediate protection.' " * You wrong me, Mr. Eldridge,* said she, * if you suppose I have ever permitted your grand-daughter to go out, unless with other ladies. I would to Heaven I could form any probable conjecture concerning her absence this morning, but it is a mystery to me, which her return can alone unravel.* "As Madame Du Pont read these cruel lines, she turned pale as ashes, her limbs trembled, and she was forced to call for Early Fiction 167 a glass of water. She loved Charlotte truly ; and when she reflected on the innocence and gentleness of her disposition, she concluded that it must have been the advice and machinations of La Rue which led her to this imprudent action. " The whole truth now rushed in at once upon Mr. Eldridge*s mind. A violent gush of grief in some measure relieved him, and after several vain attempts he at length assumed sufficient composure to read the note." And so on through thirty-five chapters, each interlocu- tor waiting his turn and adjusting himself, his pose, vocabulary, and punctuation to stage effects of melo- dramatic intensity. It was the theatrical age of fiction. People who were at home reading a novel instead of going to the play demanded that it be illumined by footlights and be enlivened by something of the rant they had lately heard on the boards. Hence much of ceremonious and unnatural orotundity and chapters headed : " Which people void of feeling need not read," meaning, " If you have tears to shed, prepare to shed them now." This was taken as a stage direction by readers and complied with to the letter. They sighed and wept to order. It should be said in parenthesis that this sentimentality struck Mrs. Tabitha Tenny years afterward very much as Richardson's " Pamela " affected Fielding, and she followed the tearful novelist afar with a counter-irritant entitled " Female Quixotism : Exhibited in the Romantic Opinions and Extravagant Adventures of Dorcasina Sheldon," a young woman whose devotion to trashy novels determines her to become some sort of a heroine. Her first step is tck refuse a desirable suitor, after whom follow several unde- sirable ones and adventures more ridiculous than romantic. 1 68 American Literature Eescued from sacrificing herself and her fortune to a serv- mg man, she finally has an attack of common sense, which lasts through the remainder of her life. Mrs. Eowson found that the demand for lachrymose novels was not greatly diminished by this antidote, espe- cially if reheved by plays, songs, tales, and even the school books which she continued to write until her demise in Boston in 1824. Two men took up the new literary trade almost simul- taneously, Henry Hugh Brackenridge getting the start of Bracken- Charlcs Brockdcn Brown by a year only in his ndge. „ Modem Chivalry." A graduate of Princeton in the class with James Madison and Philip Freneau, it is not strange that the young lawyer entered into the arena of politics early and took his literary capability with him as an assistant. The experiences he passed through in the whisky insurrection of 1794 furnished material for the above story with the sub-title of the " Adventures of Cap- tain Farrago and Teague O'Eegan, His Servant," the first part being published at Pittsburg in 1796, and the second ten years later. Of this book it used to be said that al- though the fame of it had not reached Europe, no traveller in the West by the name of Brackenridge ever failed to be asked if he was related to the author of "Modern Chivalry." If he happened to be, hospitality and horses were at his command. The story smacked of border life, if it did not have the odor of a tavern tumbler about it, since the writer did not have so utter an abhorrence of moonshiners as the excisemen did. Altogether, it con- veyed a useful lesson to a rough and raw population who had just acquired the new and dangerous possession of free- dom and were handling it carelessly, not knowing that it Early Fiction 169 was loaded. Teague O'Kegan, Sancho Panza to Captain Farrago, has as great difficulty to keep out of office as his illustrious prototype had to get in. At any moment he might find himself a member of a philosophical society, of the legislature, or an association of clergymen. Societies of colonial and other wars had not then been established or he might have fared stiU worse. At length he has greatness thrust upon him, and eventually tar and feathers, as collector of the excise among the whisky stills of the Alleghanies. By all of which it may be observed that politics was not in pulpits alone, but in literature as weU in the early days of the republic. Brockden Brown's novels were a nearer approach to a purely literary performance. A Philadelphia youth of studious ways, having a mind divided between Brockden practical views and an eccentric fancy, he aban- ^'■°^°* doned law for literature and became the first in this country to pursue letters as a profession. Eecovering speedily from an attack of the epic epidemic then prevailing, he began to cultivate fiction — pure but not simple. It was his misfortune to be caught in New York in the plague year of 1798, when the yellow fever was desolating the city. His nearest friend was taken, but he was left to describe the horrors of the pestilence in books which are yellow with fever and black with death. Besides, there is in them a large accompaniment of the preternatural — ventriloquism, somnambulism, and spiritism — uncanny agencies to have in the house, but convenient in a novel, especially when plots get so complicated that the author cannot recall every knot that he has tied, as was some- times the case with this one. However, a writer who produced so much in so short a time ought not to be 170 American Literature taken to task for not keeping all his threads straight and well in hand. Six novels in three years, and three of them in one year, is a feat to justify the employment of the supernatural. "Wieland" in 1798, "Ormond" in 1799, "Arthur Mervyn" in 1800, "Edgar Huntley," "Clara Howard," and "Jane Talbot" in 1801 formed a pyrotechnic display of romance worthy to celebrate the going out of the eighteenth century and the coming in of. the nineteenth. Moreover, there was no lack of unearthly colors in this flaming apotheosis of life and death, nor of visible and invisible hands to manage the catastrophe. Note this highlight for example : " Death seemed to hover over this scene, and I dreaded that the floating pestilence had already lighted on my frame. I approached a house before which stood a hearse. Presently a coffin borne by two men issued from the house. One of them, as he assisted in thrusting the coffin into the cavity provided for it, said : ' I'll be d — d if I think the poor dog was quite dead. It was n't the fever that ailed him, but the sight of the girl and her mother on the floor. It was n't quite right to put him in his coffin before the breath was fairly gone. I thought the last look he gave me told me to stay a few minutes.* *' * Pshaw ! He could not live,' said the other. ' The sooner dead the better for him, as well as for us. Did you mark how he eyed us when we carried away his wife and daughter ? ' " Here is another : ^' Welbeck put his hands to his head and exclaimed, * Curses on thy lips, infernal messenger ! Chant elsewhere thy rueful ditty ! Vanish ! if thou wouldst not feel in thy heart fangs red with blood less guilty than thine ! " ^ How dare you thrust yourself upon my privacy 1 Why am I not alone 1 Fly ! and let my miseries want at least the aggravation of beholding their author. My eyes loathe the Early Fiction 171 sight of thee ! My heart would suffocate thee with its own bitterness ! Begone ! " ' Thank thy fate, youth, that my hands are tied up by my scorn ; thank thy fate that no weapon is within reach. I dis- dain to take thy life. Go, and let thy fidelity to the confidence I have placed in thee be inviolate. Thou canst betray the secrets that are lodged in thy bosom, and rob me of the comfort of reflecting that my guilt is known to but one among the living.' " And one more : " Shuddering, I dashed myself against the wall and turned myself backward to examine the mysterious monitor. The moonlight streamed into each window and every corner of the room was conspicuous, and yet I beheld nothing ! If a human being had been there could he fail to have been visible ? " Brown's pages are not all filled with such passages as these, but they occur often enough to keep the reader awake with their crawling shivers. It is the riot of the improbable and the impossible in action, based upon a pestilence or the red Indian. The last was an element which our early and later writers found too useful to leave out of the new American fiction. But in his yellow literature Brown had a good purpose to accomplish in (- enforcing lessons of justice and humanity, and in attempt- ing incidentally to have something done to head off the ravages of the plague. He was a voice crying in the wilderness of New York and Philadelphia for sanitary ^ reform. He would not find himself out of date in this respect if he were still living. Adopting the present style of fiction he might still do good service. As it was, he hit the taste of his own time, not over nice, and the temper of an age of restless and daring speculation, with ly^ American Literature its new-fledged theories in medicine, philosophy, and social science. His ghastly and ghoulish treatment of his theme was not altogether inappropriate to its horrors, nor out of harmony with the demands of readers who were familiar with them. After all, these weird productions were an advance upon the plaintive and melancholic wail that was started by Susanna Eowson. They were at least a howling wilderness of misery, with an incidental inculca- tion of constancy in friendship and fortitude in suffering. These and other virtues were bravely held up for admi- ration and imitation with shrieks and fainting, floods of tears and tearing rant, and the crippling paralysis of nightmare. Possibly his generation needed this heroic treatment. At any rate, they took his medicine greedily, and called him the first great American novelist — after England had approved. He wrote political papers also of considerable value, advocating the Louisiana purchase and the territorial extension of the United States, and an address to Con- gress upon foreign trade, exhibiting in these the practical side of his nature. In addition, his contributions to the periodical press were numerous. He was an incessant and rapid writer, with premonitions that his life work must be done early. He died at the age of thirty -nine. His novels, recently republished, may be regarded as the climax of American fiction in the eighteenth century in its late movement. They stand on the dividing line between two centuries, gathering up the romanticism of one into a burning focus, and foreshowing the realism of the next in a baleful glare shed over uncommon experi- ences. There is little else to mark the passing of the second Early Fiction 173 century of literary performance in America. In some directions there was much to be attained, but at the same time much had been accomplished in The Forward the eighteen decades since Bradford began his ^°v*°^^"*- diary. If a sentence from three representative writers be taken to indicate the prevailing spirit and manner of their time, the landmarks of a forward movement will be evident. Tor the Puritan age let Parson Ward of Ipswich speak in his "Simple Cobler of Agawam," who was simple neither in wit nor style. " We have been reputed a CoUuvies of wild Opinionists, swarmed into a remote wilderness to find elbow-room for our Phanatic Doctrines and practises ; I trust our diligence past, and constant sedulity against such persons and courses will plead better things for us. I dare to take upon me, to be the Herauld of New England so far, as to proclaim to the World, in the name of our Colony, that all Familists, Antinomians, Anabaptists, and other Enthusiasts shall have free liberty to keep away from us, and such as will come to be gone as fast as they can, the sooner the better." Which recalls Governor Dudley's ominous couplet: " Let men of God in churches wat^-h O'er such as do a Toleration hatch." Cotton Mather's eulogy on Eev. Kalph Partridge ex- hibits the fashion in 1700: "This Partridge had the innocency of a dove and the loftiness of an eagle. Never- theless he was so afraid of being anything which looked like a bird wandering from his nest that he remained with his people till he took wing to become a bird of paradise." A hundred years later Jefferson could write in his first 174 American Literature inaugural, 1801 : " During the contest of opinion through which we have passed the animation of discussions and of exertions has sometimes worn an aspect which might impose on strangers unused to think freely and to speak and write what they think, but this being now decided by the voice of the nation, announced according to the rules of the Constitution, all will, of course, arrange themselves under the will of the law and unite in common efforts for the common good." Comparison of these representative sentiments shows that as great an advance had been made in their spirit as in the form of their expression. The new nation was beginning to create a new literature. XVI AT THE BEGINNING OF THE NINETEENTH CENTURY There was as little in American literature as in nature to signalize the opening of the nineteenth century. The sun rose and set as usual and men went about their busi- ness without further disturbance than the occasional lapse into the habit, one hundred years old, of writing 17 — in dating their letters. Some tried to imagine that a great event had happened when they crossed the century line, as in crossing the equator. Others said that it was only an arbitrary division of the years, at best measuring ten times ten of them. If some name to place upon the century milestone were sought for, none more significant could have been found than that of John Quincy Adams. He was at .^^^ oumcy least a notable representative of the thinkers ^^*™*' and writers then abounding. Political strife was running high and strong. Letters themselves were full of politics, schemes, and partisanship. Yet the outlook of the nation was growing broader and more cosmopolitan. With all this the son of the second president was in sympathy. His training for it had begun as a boy of eleven, when he accompanied his father, who had been sent on a diplomatic trip to France. His schooling followed in European courts and cities among ambassadors and statesmen. As a con- sequence he received a singular preparation for college, but one which placed him in the junior class when he en- 176 176 American Literature tered Harvard. After graduation came the study of law, and then the customary waiting for clients. It was at this period that his literary proclivities began to appear and, of course, in polemics, as became the heir of a Puritan line. Thomas Paine's "Eights of Man" inspired young Adams to write an anonymous refutation, which was by some attributed to his father. The question of neutrality next enlisted his ready pen, with other topics which were then of absorbing interest. These started him in a diplo- matic career in Holland, Prussia, Eussia, and England. The first year of the new century was that of the publication of his " Tour through Silesia," one of his inci- dental journeys during the residence in Europe. It was typical of the American abroad, and the forerunner of numerous books of travel when more Americans began to go into all lands and to publish their impressions, grave and otherwise. It was also indicative of the wider view of men and affairs which provincialism was bound to take when rubbing elbows with the nations, and an antidote to separatism, isolation, and undue conceit. In form this record of travel into an out-of-the-way region was a series of letters to the writer's brother in Philadelphia, written with the freedom and unreserve of family correspondence. But an enterprising editor of the " Portfolio " saw that they would prove interesting reading, and printed them with the consent of the recipient, who was doubtless proud to honor their author without his consent or knowledge. The occurrence is a comment on the freedom of literary manners at the time, particularly as these letters were carried to London and reprinted in a volume three years later, where the author first saw them in print. Afterward they were published in German and French translations, At the Beginning of the 19th Century 177 revealing sundry references to persons and conversations that were intended for the eye of a single individual in America. The art of discreet editing appears to have been as lacking as the desire to benefit the public was ardent. When Mr. Adams was at home in Quincy in 1804 he made this entry in his diary for the 20th of September : "This afternoon I read over in the "Portfolio" most of my letters on Silesia, which, by an advertisement in the newspapers, appear to have been republished in London in a volume. I find part of one letter from Leip- zig, relating to Lord Holland and Mr. Elliot, which I always much regretted to see published, and which T shall regret still more if it is included in the republication. In writing the Silesian letters I had no expectation that any of them would be published." The incident and the volume broach a subject that is of more consequence than either in the history of American literature, namely, the art of correspondence and its place among other kinds of composition. It may not be more just to say that it is a lost art than to add that cheap postage and frequent mails have destroyed the necessity for long letters. But there are other qualities which have vanished from epistolary writing that once gave it a right to be reckoned among the lighter forms of belles-lettres. This French term was applicable to them literally. The age of the Adamses was the golden age of such productions, and the family itself was as distinguished in this minor department of letters as in others, correspon- The correspondence of John Adams and his ***""' accomplished wife is an example of what may be attained in this informal method of communication and interchange of ideas. In these days the old style may not seem alto- 12 ijS American Literature gether informal. Neither would the manners of the time. Besides, it is possible that in the necessity of writiag long letters and at long intervals the writers were not unmind- ful of what had hitherto been done in this direction. It was a time when the letters of Cicero and Pliny might have been read in the original by a large proportion of educated people. The correspondence of Abelard and Hdloise could not have been unknown to Americans in France, and the letters of Walpole and Chesterfield to such as were in England. Pope's epistles and Gray's and Lady Mary Wortley Montagu's could not have been unheard-of if unread by cultivated Americans who were distinguish- ing themselves in this way, as Franklin and Jefferson and the Adamses. For two centuries letter-writing had been something more than a matter of business or news-telling. It was an accomplishment, into the acquisition of which went painstaking and out of which came some of the best and most instructive writing in France, England, and America. Nothing so illumines the obscure corners of national life and personal character and brings back the daily going out and coming in of a community. What the Paston letters were to the reign of Henry VI. and Lady Eussell's to that of Charles 11. and Mme. De S^vign^'s to that of Louis XIV., the correspondence of American statesmen was to the stormy times in the last half of the eighteenth century and in the first quarter of the nine- teenth. Their service to history may be greater than to literature, but in this respect they cannot be overlooked. They compare favorably with other productions of the pe- riod and more than favorably with the performances of our own day in the same direction. John Quincy Adams's recognition as a man of letters At the Beginning of the 19th Century 179 rested on proficiency in no single department. Harvard College admitted this in appointing him to the chair of rhetoric and belles-lettres in 1806, where for three years he delivered lectures which were afterward printed and for a time had great repute. This was in the line of the oratorical composition which served him in his career as a statesman in the legislative assemblies to which he was chosen at a later day and as a framer of state papers. His collected works, apart from his diary and correspond- ence, are those of a publicist rather than of a man who has made literature the pursuit of a lifetime. In this he may be here contrasted with two of his contemporaries. On the 24th of January, 1807, the first number of a paper called " Salmagundi " appeared in the shop of D. Longworth, publisher, in the city of New York. The first of the four articles which it contained tu?e— "Sa" magundi." announced that the intention of the editors was *' to instruct the young, reform the old, correct the town and castigate the age : this is an arduous task, and there- fore we undertake it with confidence. Like aU true and able editors we consider ourselves infallible, and therefore with the customary diffidence of our brethren of the quill, we shall take the liberty of interfering in all matters either of a public or private nature." The. town was fairly warned what to expect and they were not disappointed in their expectations. Launcelot Langstaff, William "Wiz- ard, and Anthony Evergreen were equal to every occasion. Manners, fashions, the theatre, social assemblies, concerts, travellers, young men and maidens, train-bands, poHtics, and the weather came in for a share of running comment and criticism. Even well-known citizens imagined, with more or less reason, that they were sometimes held up i8o American Literature before the public in names painfully transparent. A large portion of the next issue would then be devoted to denials and assurances as bad as the original exhibition. The dinners of the Giblet family, the virtues of Miss Wearwell and the eccentricities of Miss Dashaway, the singing of Demi Semiquaver, the federalism of Uncle John, the resources of the Cockloft family, the career of Straddle, the diversions of Gotham, its foibles or its follies, are all prolific themes for the occupant of the "elbow chair," prototype of the "easy chair" of a worthy suc- cessor. " LolHng in my elbow chair this fine summer morn, I feel myself insensibly yielding to that feeling of indolence the season is so well fitted to inspire. Surely never was a town more subject to midsummer fancies or dog-day whim-whams than this most excellent of cities. No sooner does a new disorder or a new freak seize one individual but it is sure to run through the whole community. Last summer it was the poplar worm. This summer everybody has had full employment in planning forti- fications for our harbor. Politics is a kind of mental food soon digested ; it is thrown up again the moment it is swallowed. Let but one of these quidnuncs take in an idea through eye or ear, and it immediately issues out at his mouth — he begins to talk. He is like one charged with electricity ; present but a knuckle and he begins to talk. To rise in this country a man must first descend. The aspiring politician may be compared to that in- defatigable insect called the tumbler, which buries itself in filth and works in the dirt until it forms a little ball, which it rolls laboriously along, sometimes head, sometimes tail foremost." It is when the fashionable nonsense of the town comes under the point of Langstaffs pen that most amusement is afforded, and also the information that society a century ago was not unlike itself to-day. At the Beginning of the 19th Century 181 " It is highly amusing to observe the gradation of a family aspiring to style. While beating up against wind and tide they keep bowing and bowing, as McSycophant says, and absolutely overwhelm you with their friendship and loving kindness. But having once gained the envied prominence, never were beings in the world more changed, assuming the most intolerable caprices, etc." No reader of Addison's " Spectator," then one hundred years old, could fail to see that these papers were after the manner of that delectable classic. It was a day when the question of imitation was not so vital as that of fidelity in the copy. Independence of Great Britain politically had not been successfully followed by attempts at literary independence. Some clamored for this, but their struggles for it did not meet their aspirations. The material to work upon was here in abundance in a new country, but methods and style are matters of growth and inheritance rather than of discovery. Consequently the authors of this early venture in the field of light literature showed their good sense in following the best model that could be found in the line of their undertaking. Considering, too, that they were young men and young Americans, they displayed more wisdom than if they had yielded to the demand for a purely national literature which was already beginning to be made. As it was, there was sufficient originality in design and execution to free the enterprise from the charge of being a servile copy. It was simply the similarity of subject and manner of treatment, to which must be added in the case of the principal writer a nature not unlike Addison's. This writer, as everybody knows, was Washington Irving, and associated with him as the other chief con- 1 82 American Literature tributor was James K. Paulding, a cousin of Major Andre's captor. It will be following the order of development to speak of Paulding first, for he represents Paulding. i * . the American idea of literary independence — when he is writing by himself after the " Salmagundi " partnership with Irving. Experiences during the revo- lutionary war had made him a hater of everything Eng- lish, and when the war of 1812 was declared he published " The Diverting History of John Bull and Brother Jona- than," in which, however, the style is more British than American in his following of Swift — an Irishman in his eyes. His pamphlet on " The United States and England " and " A Sketch of Old England " and '' John Bull in America," with parodies on Scott's poems and novels, betray the same anglophobia. He was better in his "Dutchman's Fireside," a story of the old French war, which passed through six editions in a year, and was republished in England, France, and Holland. In- terspersed with the titles already mentioned were novels, poems, and sketches, stories, comedies, more " Salma- gundi," a life of Washington for youth, and even a defence of slavery, all of which required a literary life of nearly half a century to produce. Yet this was a re- markable achievement for a man who had only fifteen dollars' worth of schooling. He had his admirers in his own generation among those who were more discriminat- ing in political matters than in literary, and with whom Americanism counted for more than cosmopolitanism. He represented a tendency to break with colonial bond- age to the British manner because it was British, and in so far was a pioneer in a movement that was sure to be started when the opportune time should arrive. The At the Beginning of the 19th Century 183 difficulty was that the time had not yet come when the American author could turn his back upon his English predecessors and contemporaries and be sure of a literary renown that would last for three generations. Irving saw this, but Paulding did not. This is not the only reason why the one is read and re-read and the other almost for- gotten, but it accounts in part for the different future which was awaiting the two youthful partners in " Sal- magundi." The book itself, however, will have a perennial interest as long as cities are inhabited and human nature remains unchanged. ^ The half hopeful, half fearful view which youthful Americans took of their country's political future is illustrated by Paulding's words on the American People : "If the people of the United States cannot sustain a free government, or if they suffer themselves to be enslaved by force or fraud, then may the human race read their doom ; for never was there, and never can there be, a people placed under circum- stances more favorable to its preservation. The moment they cease to be free they will merit the scorn and contempt of the world. " When the love of pelf becomes the ruling passion, and the golden calf the only divinity ; when money is made the stand- ard by which men are estimated, and held as the sole agent in the attainment of that happiness which is the common pursuit of all mankind : then will this majestic fabric of freedom crum- ble to pieces, and from its ruins will arise a hideous monster with Liberty in his mouth, and Despotism in his heart." The independent spirit which Paulding advocated is shown in a note of his which an editor quotes in an edition of " The Dutchman s Fireside " : "It has always been one of my first objects to incite and encourage the genius of this country, and, most especially to 184 American Literature draw its attention toward our own history, traditions, scenery, and manners, instead of foraging in the barren and exhausted fields of the Old World. I have lived to see this object in a great measure accomplished, and one of the most gratifying of all my reflections is, that possibly I have had some little agency in bringing it about." With equal satisfaction the editor adds : "Yes, there was now a germ of an American literature; distinct ; on its own root ; growing ; vigorous ; not to be pooh- poohed, or trampled under foot, or easily done to death any And then follows a burst of prophecy which has been partially fulfilled : "Assuredly the time will arrive when the Americans as a people will take pride in a literature of their own and realize that a National Literature is a National Power." In the same book Paulding exemplifies his theory of using the domestic material of forest and river, wild beast and Indian in a way that anticipates Cooper. He also anticipates by almost a century the policy toward the Indian which at last is likely to prevail over all others. He makes Sir William Johnson say: " I sometimes despair of being able to consummate the plan which has gradually opened itself to my mind during my residence here, and which is now become the leading object of my life, — to bring the Indians into the circle of civilized life. I cannot but see that if they remain as they are they must perish. Nothing can save them but conforming to the laws, and customs, and occupations of the whites. I have en- deavoured to prepare them for this, and for that purpose have tried to gain their confidence and establish an influence over them." XVII WASHINGTON IRVING, HUMORIST AND HISTORIAN In the year which saw the United States admitted into the commonwealth of nations a child was born in New York city who should eventually be considered Antecedents. worthy to sit among the makers of literature in England. This honor had not been accorded to any of his predecessors, however interesting theological, political, or scientific emanations from America had been to for- eigners devoted to such discussions. Something broader than these specialties was asked and something finer than the form of treatment thus far prevailing. The harmoni- ous compound of vision and reflection, the sight of the eye and the creative imagination, stirring the heart and delighting the sense of fitness, and so appealing to race sympathies as to secure permanent appreciation — this combination, or a similar one, which creates literature had not been completely effected by any experimenter here previous to Washington Irving. Nor can it be said that he was the final lucky accident succeeding many approaches. New York had not been preeminently a literary centre. The Irving family, though with a pro- clivity for letters, were not descendants of a long line of cultivated ancestors, as was often the case with some New England authors. Young Washington himself was* through his school days at sixteen, and, though a bookish boy, was also a stroller over Manhattan Island with a 185 1 86 American Literature keen eye for what was going on, and a wistful gaze after the sails that filled away for lands remote. In fine, the missing link in the evolution theory here is so long that it is easier and safer to say that he occurred, as Goldsmith and Addison occurred ; they with the advantages of the university, he with the cultivation which travel brings and citizenship of the wide world. Providence bestowed upon him large endowments, of which he made the most and the best. His first venture by himself, after the "Salmagundi" experiment with his brother William and Paulding, must "Knicker- ^^^® added to the encouragement which that ?ory of^^'^" liad already given him. " The History of New New York." york from the Beginning of the World to the End of the Dutch Dynasty," with its account of the un- utterable ponderings of Walter the Doubter, the disas- trous projects of William the Testy, and the chivalric achievements of Peter the Headstrong, came very near being what the author asserted, " the only authentic his- tory of the times that ever hath been or ever will be written." If history is a reproduction of life, as well as a record of events, no better representation of a former age to illustrate and ridicule the on-goings of a later one is likely to be made by any successor of Diedrich Knicker- bocker. For example : *' Such was the happy reign of Wouter Van Twiller, celebrated in many a long-forgotten song as the real golden age, the rest being nothing but counterfeit, copper-washed coin. In that delightful period a sweet and holy calm reigned over the whole province. The burgomaster smoked his pipe in peace ; the substantial solace of his domestic cares, after her daily toils were done, sat soberly at the door, with her arms crossed over her Washington Irving 187 apron of snowy white without being insulted by ribald street- walkers or vagabond boys — those unlucky urchins who do so infest our streets, displaying under the roses of youth the thorns and briers of iniquity. Then it was. that the lover with ten breeches and the damsel with petticoats half a score indulged in in all the endearments of virtuous love without fear and without reproach. Happy would it have been for New Amsterdam could it always have existed in this state of blissful ignorance and lovely simplicity, but alas ! the days of childhood are too sweet to last." As for the writer's own, he prolonged them to the latest extremity. As a companion of jolly fellows, as a desirable young man in society, and as a traveller in America and Europe he always seemed younger than he was. He was in no haste to begin life nor ambitious to enter upon a career — especially at the bar, to which he was admitted by the utmost charity of construction as to his knowledge of the law. This, however, was the most dignified of his delays before getting down to the business of his life of letters, with which clients did not greatly interfere. Like his own worthies of Pavonia, " drifting quietly on until they were roused by an uncommon tossing and agitation of their vessels *' in Hell Gate, he allowed himself to drift with the stream until the failure of the business in which he had a share threw him upon his oars. Then it was that he turned his back upon the frolic of " Salmagundi " and the caricaturing of New Amsterdam arising out of mud in a vapor of tobacco smoke and peopled with the *' fat, somniferous, and respectable families that flourished and slumbered in the early days of Walter the Doubter," or were disturbed by the untimely reforms of Peter the Testy. All this was rough and ready 'prentice work to what was to follow under the pressure of that kind of 1 88 American Literature necessity which has settled frisky genius into the harness before and since his days. Moreover, some account must be taken of the crushing sorrow which came into his happy life in the death of the woman who was its chief joy and would have been his wife, whose memory was a hallowed presence to the end of his days. In after years when he had girded himself for his vocation the bright spirit was unquenched, but it shone in a man who had been chastened by adversity and uplifted and enlarged by grief. To his natural humor was added a tender pathos, which made his next book full of the human element that attracts and holds all readers with irresistible charm. " The Sketch-Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent," is what its title implies, a collection of short, suggestive outlines "The Sketch. ^^ narration and incident, struck off with Book." ^YiQ fidelity to nature and certainty of touch which belong to an accomplished artist. A few masterly strokes reveal much more than themselves, and intimate possibihties far beyond the limited range which the author allowed himself. For example, everybody knows how " Kip Van Winkle " has been illustrated by the dramatization to which Joseph Jefferson has given a masterly interpretation. And yet it is a dull imagination which has not seen without assistance the vagabond Eip, his dog and gun and termagant spouse, and what was left of these after the twenty years' nap, as clearly portrayed in the suggestive lines of Irving. "He looked round for his gun, but in place of the clean, well-oiled fowling piece he found an old fire-lock lying by him, the barrel incrusted with rust, the lock falling off and the stock worm-eaten. He shook his head, shouldered the rusty gun and turned his steps homeward. He had now entered'the skirts of Washington Irving 189 the village. A troop of strange children ran at his heels, hoot- ing after him and pointing at his gray beard. The dogs, too, not one of which he recognized for an old acquaintance, barked at him as he passed. Strange names were over the doors — strange faces at the windows — everything was strange." This is a portrayal to whose realism little can be added by brush or the living picture. It may be superbly rep- resented, but it was all there before for the ordinary reader, set in simple words, but always the right ones in ■ the right place. ** It was with some difficulty that he found the way to his own house, which he approached with silent awe, expecting every moment to hear the shrill voice of Dame Van Winkle. He found the house gone to decay — the roof fallen in, the windows shattered and the doors off the hinges. A half-starved dog that looked like Wolf was skulking about it. Rip called him by name, but the cur snarled, showed his teeth, and passed on. * My very dog,' sighed poor Rip, * has forgotten me ! ' " This seems simple and easy to do. The reader thinks that it is the very way he himself should have described the old fellow if he had seen him. To test the matter, let the habit of Franklin be imitated. Read the story once more and rewrite it; then compare versions. Pre- vious to the author's, however, was the greater achieve- ment of inventing, or if it was an adaptation of a German legend, of adapting the character to the drowsy atmos- phere of the Catskills. The genius which produced the " Legend of Sleepy Hol- low," and thirty other sketches, was instantly recognized in England. Walter Scott's quick appreciation and gen- erous assistance brought the new author into pleasant and profitable relations with the chief publishers of London, 190 American Literature and after Scott, Byron, and Murray led, there was nothing that did not follow. An American had found his place in the fraternity of letters ; and without bating a jot of his patriotism or sparing the truth in speaking of English prejudices, established himself for five years in the literary metropolis where he could best do his work and find a market for it. It was also greeted at home with the enthusiasm that could rest confidently on English approval, while fed by local pride in a national represen- tative of American letters abroad. Irving, however, was becoming a cosmopolite. Eng- land did not keep him too long. By 1820 he was in Paris Life and Let- ^otnobbing with Thomas Moore, following up ters Abroad. ^^^ theatrcs, catching notes of applause from across the Channel, then going back to win an English tri- umph on English soil in his " Bracebridge Hall." Xo native could have pictured the life of a country squire more to the satisfaction of all England. There was much in it with which the author himself had sympathy, as well as with the people he describes. As if in half apology to Ameri- cans he says : " I can never forget that this is my father- land. And yet the circumstances under which I have viewed it have been by no means such as were calculated to produce favorable impressions." He then remarks that close observation will often change opinions hastily formed of a national character which shows its rough side first. Special mention is made of the reception accorded to the essay in the " Sketch Book " on literary feuds between England and America, and the " generous sym- pathy in every English bosom toward a solitary individual lifting up his voice in a strange land to vindicate the character of his nation." Washington Irving 191 This, indeed, is the eminence which Irving occupies, higher than that of being our first man of letters in the order of time. He was a peacemaker in an His Good 'age of misunderstanding, jealousy, and hostil- °®'=®^- ity. The ill-feeling consequent upon two wars had not Iwholly subsided. In letters there was independent aspi- ration on one side, complacent superciliousness and sharp censoriousness on the other. In this very year Sydney Smith contemptuously asked : " Who ever reads an Amer- ican book ? " The one man who was able to reply to the taunt could do it in his " English Writers on America." A few sentences will show the large and generous spirit in which this was done. After observing that impressions of this country had been gained from the worst kind of travellers, he remarks that the prosperity founded upon political liberty and the general diffusion of knowledge cannot be overlooked : that it is of more consequence to England than to us that justice be done and resentment allayed ; that " possessing the fountain head whence the literature of the language flows, it is in her power to make it the medium of amiable and magnanimous feeling — a stream where the two nations might meet together and drink in peace and kindness." And to Americans he says : '' Let it be the pride of our writers, discarding all feelings of irritation and disdaining to retaliate the illib- erality of British authors, to speak of the English nation without prejudice and with determined candor. While they rebuke the indiscriminating bigotry with which some of our countrymen admire and imitate everything English because it is English, let them frankly point out what is really worthy of approbation." The entire essay shows Irving in the character of a broad-minded, fearless days- ig2 American Literature man between the two countries in a sphere more impor- tant than diplomacy. " The mere contests of the sword," he says, " are temporary, but the slanders of the pen pierce to the heart ; they rankle longest in the noblest spirit ; they dwell ever present in the mind. Trace hostilities to their cause and they will be found to originate in the mis- chievous effusions of mercenary writers who concoct and circulate the venom that is to inflame the generous and the brave." How much this author did toward bringing about an " era of good feeling " is seen in the contemporary testi- mony of the day. The two nations might still be at log- gerheads on many subjects, but they both agreed in their reverence for the man who dared to show them their obligations and privileges. It was the beginning of a better understanding by each people of the good qualities of the other which has increased with every decade. And nothing has so hastened the growth of kindly sentiment or temporarily retarded it as the attitude of responsible writers in either country. Of Irving's later and more pretentious labors a corre- sponding amount might be said. They were the result of Voluminous ^ ^^^^ ^^^^ Came with advancing years to do Writings. niore monumental work. After the " Tales of a Traveller " had been thrown off, as in his opinion the climax of his lighter diversions — for writing was no task when the mood seized him — he then entered upon the most prolific period of his career at the age of forty-six. The year 1826 found him at Madrid to begin his " Life of Columbus." This occupied two pleasant years, and was succeeded by the " Companions," and this by the " Con- quest of Granada" and "The Alhambra" before 1832, Washington Irving 193 when he returned to America after a seventeen years' resi- dence in Europe. These larger achievements brought him academic honors from Oxford and the medal of the Eoyal Society of Literature, with no end of applause abroad and at home. Then, after ten years of light writing about this and that, tours, recollections, legends, and biographies, came the crowning honor of his life in the mission to Spain, to be signalized by his principal work, the " Life of Washington." With the last volume of this he may be said to have ended his days at the " Sunnyside " retreat on the banks of the river he loved, whose borders he had peopled with legendary beings recalled from the shadowy and dreamy years of the old Dutch dynasty. With respect to the two points of view from which every writer is estimated — namely, his own period and ours — it may be said of Irving that he wears success and well. Against the background of the time in ^°^*^*°°- which he lived it is not strange that he was regarded as a marvel. His early work was done in an age of literary barrenness, itself the natural sequence of disturbed condi- tions in the state of the country, which the war of 1812 helped to settle. In such a time such a writer could not be otherwise than preeminent. In his department there was no second in this country, nor anything better abroad. If he is compared with writers of the present time in the class of work which he did best, are any better to be found ? The short story has been marvellously developed in recent years, but Irving anticipated some of its best effects eighty years ago, and if not its sole pioneer was its most skilful narrator by far. As an historian and a biog- rapher he has been surpassed in the particulars which make such writers philosophically eminent, but in the 19t, 194 American Literature domain of the creative imagination, dealing with twilight forms and investing the commonplace with the haze of romance he has no peer. If, again, the continuous sale of works is an evidence of his permanent value, it may be said that few authors have had such a record for fourscore years, either in compensation for copyright or in the disposal of edition after edition. For the single work the " Life of Columbus " he received $15,750, and the copies of almost any of his writings from first to last may be numbered by the hundreds of thousands. Such success is phenomenal in a cultivated nation. It was preeminently exceptional in a raw coiuitry, in a time of literary famine and with peculiar obstacles to foreign recognition. Over these hindrances Irving triumphed by the literary faculty which he pos- sessed and improved, and by the winning graces of his manner and the genuine kindness of his heart and the high moral tone of his writings. Two nations, which he did more than any man of his time to unite, will always do him reverence. As an example of his humor this portrait of John Bull — a favorite subject at the time — caused a smile on both sides of the Atlantic : " There is no species of humor in which the English more excel, than that which consists in caricaturing and giving ludicrous appellations, or nicknames : In this way they have designated, not merely individuals, but nations; and in their fondness for pushing a joke they have not spared even them- selves in the figure of a sturdy, corpulent old fellow, with a three-cornered hat, red waistcoat, leather breeches, and stout oaken cudgel. . . . "To all appearance he is a plain, downright matter-of-fact fellow, with much less of poetry than rich prose. He excels in humor more than in wit ; is jolly rather than gay ; melan- choly rather than morose; can easily be moved to a sudden Washington Irving 195, tear, or surprised into a broad laugh ; but he loathes sentiment, and has no turn for light pleasantry. . . . "He is continually volunteering his services to settle his neighbors* affairs, and takes it in great dudgeon if they engage in any matter of consequence without asking his advice ; though he seldom engages in any friendly ofi&ce of the kind without finishing by getting into a squabble with all parties, and then railing bitterly at their ingratitude. He cannot hear of a quar- rel between the most distant of his neighbors, but he begins incontinently to fumble with the head of his cudgel, and con- sider whether his interest or honor does not require that he should meddle in the broil. Indeed he has extended his rela- tions of pride and policy so completely over the whole country, that no event can take place without infringing some of his finely-spun rights and dignities. Couched in his little domain with these filaments stretching forth in every direction, he is like some choleric, bottle-bellied old spider, who has woven his web over a whole chamber, so that a fly cannot buzz nor a breeze blow without startling his repose, and causing him to sally forth wrathfully from his den. " It is one of his peculiarities, however, that he only relishes the beginning of an affray ; he always goes into a fight with alacrity, but comes out of it grumbling even when victorious ; and though no one fights with more obstinacy to ^carry a con- tested point, yet, when the battle is over, and he comes to a reconciliation, he is so much taken up with the mere shaking of hands, that he is apt to let his antagonist pocket all that they have been quarrelling about. It is not, therefore, fighting that he ought so much to be on his guard against, as making friends. " He is a little fond of playing the magnifico abroad ; of pull- ing out a long purse; flinging his money bravely about; but immediately after one of these fits of extravagance, he will be taken with violent qualms of economy, and in such moods will not pay the smallest tradesman's bill without violent altercation, drawing his coin out of his breeches' pocket with infinite re- luctance; paying to the uttermost farthing, but accompanying every guinea with a growl. " With all his talk of economy, however, he is a bountiful 19^ American Literature provider, and a hospitable housekeeper. Everything that lives on him seems to thrive and grow fat. Groups of veteran beef- eaters, gouty pensioners, and retired heroes of buttery and larder loll about his walls, doze under his trees, and sun themselves upon his benches. . . . " His very faults smack of the raciness of his good qualities. His extravagance savors of generosity ; his quarrelsomeness of his courage ; his credulity of his faith ; his vanity of his pride ; his bluntness of his sincerity." Some of living's qualities as an historian or as a biog- rapher — since he was better in the latter capacity — are indicated by his observations on the character of Columbus. " Columbus was a man of great and inventive genius. The operations of his mind were energetic but irregular, bursting forth at times with that irresistible force which characterizes intellects of such an order. His ambition was lofty and noble, inspiring him with high thoughts, and an anxiety to distinguish himself by great achievements. He aimed at dignity and wealth in the same elevated spirit with which he sought renown ; they were to rise from the territories he should discover, and be commensurate in importance. The vast gains that he antici- pated fronr his discoveries he intended to appropriate to princely purposes; to institutions for the relief of the poor of his native city, to the foundation of churches, and above all, to crusades for the recovery of the holy sepulchre. " The magnanimity of his nature shone forth through all the troubles of his stormy career. Though continually outraged in his dignity, braved in his authority, foiled in his plans, and endangered in his person by the seditions of turbulent and worthless men, yet he restrained his valiant and indignant spirit, and brought himself to forbear and reason, and even to supplicate. ITor should we fail to notice how free he was from all feeling of revenge, how ready to forgive and forget on the least signs of repentance and atonement. He has been extolled for his skill in controlling others, but far greater praise is due him for the firmness he displayed in governing himself. Washington Irving 197 <* His piety was genuine and fervent ; religion mingled with the whole course of his thoughts and actions, and shone forth in his most private and unstudied writings. Whenever he made any great discovery, he devoutly returned thanks to God. He observed the festivals of the Church in the wildest situa- tions. The sabbath was to him a day of sacred rest, on which he would never sail from port unless in case of extreme neces- sity. The religion, thus deeply seated in his soul, diffused a sober dignity, and a benign composure over his whole deport- ment ; his very language was pure and guarded^ and free from all gross or irreverent expressions. . . . "A peculiar trait in his rich and varied character remains to be noticed ; namely, that ardent and enthusiastic imagina- tion which threw a magnificence over his whole course of thought. A poetic temperament is discernible throughout all his writings and in all his actions. It spread a golden and glorious world around him, and tinged everything with its own gorgeous colors. It exalted his own office in his eyes and made him conceive himself an agent sent forth upon a sublime and awful mission, and subject to mysterious intimations from the Deity ; such as the voice which he imagined spoke to him in comfort amidst the troubles of Hispaniola, and in the silence of night on the disastrous coast of Veragua. " With all the visionary fervor of his imagination, its fondest dreams fell short of the reality. He died in ignorance of the real grandeur of his discovery ! Until his last breath, he en- tertained the idea that he had merely opened a new way to the old resorts of opulent commerce, and had discovered some of the wild regions of the East. What visions of glory would have broken upon his mind could he have known that he had indeed discovered a new continent equal to the old world in magnitude, and separated by two vast oceans from all the earth hitherto known by civilized man ! and how would his magnani- mous spirit have been consoled, could he have anticipated the splendid empires which would arise in the beautiful world he had discovered ! and the nations and tongues and languages which were to fill its lands with his renown, and to revere and bless his name to the latest posterity ! " XVIII THE KNICKERBOCKER GROUP No writer of living's genius could spring up in a barren age without inspiring such mediocre talent as might be inclined to lethargy. The mere stirring of fallow ground will send up unsuspected growths, and the awakening which the keen humorist gave the drowsy men of Man- hattan started a crop of letters, among other effects of the shock. If the name of the Knickerbocker School be too large for the little group of authors who followed afar Diedrich the historian, it may be said that the term was applied to less dignified objects in the day of its immense popularity and to more worthy ones since. The " New York Evening Post " had been established in the first year of the century with a hospitable policy tow- ard letters, as well as a critical spirit which enhanced the honor of appearing in its columns. To gain admit- tance to them was next to having a book published. On the street and in coffee-houses were knots of young men with corresponding ambitions, notwithstanding the com- mercial bias of the city and the material bent of the age. Foremost among them was a banker's clerk, who was not so far lost in arithmetical figures that he could not appreciate poetical, and even wished that he might " lounge upon a rainbow and read Tom Campbell," a sentiment with which a bystander agreed. In this way Fitz-Greene 198 The Knickerbocker Group 199 Halleck and Joseph Eodman Drake became acquainted in the spring of 1819 ; the beginning of a literary companion- ship as intimate as it was brief, for Drake died the next year. Judged by what he had begun to do, this young poet was cut down at the opening of a promising career. His early essays in verse found their subjects for satire in the topics of the town, but descriptive and patriotic pieces soon followed, the address to the American flag deserving a higher place than all that have succeeded it. A more remarkable feat was the production in two or three days of " The Culprit Fay," in refutation of an assertion that it would be diflacult to write a fairy poem, purely imaginative, without the aid of human characters. He accomplished this work with no nearer approach to humanity than in these two lines : " For an Ouphe has broken his vestal vow ; He has loved an earthly maid." The rest is the fanciful account of the consequences of such a high misdemeanor, fuU of delicate art and the traceries of an imagination at home with the hidden things of nature, itself idealized and peopled with intelligences of the poet's own creating. It is the midsummer night's dream of an airy fancy set to this measure : " He put his acorn helmet on ; It was plumed of the silk of the thistle down ; The corselet plate that guarded his breast Was once the wild bee's golden vest ; His cloak of a thousand mingled dyes Was formed of the wings of butterflies ; His shield was the shell of a ladybug queen, Studs of gold on a ground of green ; And the quivering lance which he brandished bright Was the sting of a wasp he had slain in fight. 200 American Literature Swift he bestrode his firefly steed ; He bared his blade of the bent grass blue ; He drove his spurs of the cockle-seed, And away like a glance of thought he flew To skim the heavens and follow far The fiery trail of the rocket star. " Up to the vaulted firmament His path the firefly courser bent, And at every gallop on the wind. He flung a glittering spark behind ; He flies like a feather in the blast Till the first light cloud in heaveu is past. But the shapes of air have begun their work, And a drizzly mist is round him cast : He cannot see through the mantle murk, He shivers with cold, but he urges fast ; Through storm and darkness, sleet and shade, He lashes his steed and spurs amain. For shadowy hands have twitched the rein, And flame-shot tongues around him played, And near him many a fiendish eye Glared with a fell malignity. And yells of Tage, and shrieks of fear, Came screaming on his startled ear." The entire poem should be the delight of children who dwell on the borderland of the seen and the unseen. Had the author lived, the prose fancies of Irving might have had their counterpart in the verse of Drake, inspired by the same enchanted ground of the American Ehineland. Halleck survived to write an elegy upon his friend, which shows how far the art had progressed since the days of Mather; also to continue the strain Halleck. of American verse which the two friends had joined in contributing to the columns of the "Evening Post," in " The Croakers," a sort of rhymed " Salmagundi," whose present value is chiefly to throw light upon the The Knickerbocker Group 201 society and politics of old New York. By and by he was stirred by the wrongs of suffering Greece to lift up the voice of freedom in " Marco Bozzaris," the genuine worth of which has been somewhat cheapened by countless repetitions in numberless schoolrooms. Yet it might otherwise have been known to fewer of the author's countrymen, especially in a later day, when American poets began to abound. In his day as good ones as he was were not abundant, and if he was overrated then there is danger that his real excellence will be forgotten now. Still, his best work was done early, and some of it will always find a place in collections of such American poetry as is worth keeping before the people for historic or artistic reasons. Whoever has lost a friend of his youth will associate with the recollection of his sorrow the lament of Halleck for his companion, beginning: " Green be the turf above thee, Friend of my better days ! None knew thee but to love thee, Nor named thee but to praise.'* His "Alnwick Castle" is a memory of old England with the kindly reversion of a race never wholly alienated from the old home : " Home of the Percy's high-born race, Home of their beautiful and brave, Alike their birth and burial place, Their cradle and their grave ! Still sternly o'er the castle gate Their house's Lion stands in state, As in his proud departed hours ; And warriors frown in stonfe on high And feudal banners ' flout the sky ' Above his princely towers. 202 American Literature ** A gentle hill its side inclines, Lovely in England's fadeless green, To meet the quiet stream which winds Through this romantic scene As silently and sweetly still, As when at evening, on that hill, While summer's wind blew soft and low, Seated by gallant Hotspur's side His Katherine was a happy bride, A thousand years ago. ** Wise with the lore of centuries. What tales, if there be ' tongues in trees,' Those giant oaks could tell, Of beings bom and buried there ; Tales of the peasant and the peer, Tales of the bridal and the bier. The welcome and farewell, Since on their boughs the startled bird First, in her twilight slumbers heard The Norman's curfew-bell ! " It is to be regretted that the poet did not stop at this point, and leave the anticlimax for a separate and ail- American effort. But King George's Lexington and Con- cord Percy was too much for Halleck the patriot — and also Halleck the poet. Clement C. Moore has a place among the writers who were inspired by Dutch traditions to produce a Knicker- bocker literature. No doubt the theological Moore. ^ professor expected to rest his fame upon the first Hebrew and English lexicon compiled in this coun- try, or upon his version of Lavardin's " History of George Castriot." Instead, when he is placed among the im- mortals, it will be in recognition of his " Visit from St. Nicholas," which all children know begins : " 'T was the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse." The Knickerbocker Group 203 But, as Sir Thomas Brown might have said, no man knoweth the word whereby he shall be remembered, or chooseth the stone for his own monument. Possibly the restorer of the old Dutch legend might now prefer to be associated with children's Christmas joy forever rather than with political and theological writings of consequence in his time and of little account in ours. Gulian C. Verplanck was a New Yorker whose services to literature entitle him to mention. First a lawyer, then a politician, and afterward a lecturer in divin- Verplanck. ity, his pen was seldom idle. " Essays on Ke- vealed Eeligion" and on the ''Doctrine of Contrasts" were the more substantial result, while "The State Triumvirate" and the " Ceremony of Installation " are in a lighter vein. As a member of Congress he was prominent in obtaining the extension of the term of copyright from twenty-eight to forty-two years. Later he was associated with Sands and Bryant in the "Talisman," a publication containing some of the best writing of the time. In his addresses on art, history, and literature and "The Influence and Use of Liberal Studies," and especially on " The American Scholar," he anticipated some of the more recent essayists and orators who have made kindred themes the subjects of high discussion. As an early editor of Shakespeare's plays he did much for his countrymen in pointing out in the text colloquial expressions which had been called Americanisms because they had been dropped in England, — another in- stance of the agency of colonies in retarding changes in language. For example — one that he does not mention — our word " baggage " was used in a passport issued by Edward YI. in 1547. Why should an American use the later " luggage " ? Possibly for the same reason that he 204 American Literature turns up his trousers in pleasant weather on Broadway — " because it rains in London." There were other Knickerbockers less distinguished then, or perhaps less familiar now, as Sands and Hoffman, Morris and Woodworth, Clarke, Brooks, and Benjamin, Clason and Clinch and others, who wrote lightly and pleasantly or majestically and heavily and sometimes voluminously. Their books are now dusted principally by antiquarians, and the authors themselves, as stars of the third and fourth magnitude, grew dim as the day grew brighter. William Cullen Bryant may be considered as an adopted member of the Knickerbocker group, since he was not born in New York, but on the Hampshire hills of Bryant. western Massachusetts. However, he was not long in finding his way to the metropolis and to the little circle who made it the literary centre of the country at the time. A copy of Irving's " Knickerbocker's History " had travelled into the lonely village where young Bryant was reading law and gave him a taste of what was pos- sible in lower latitudes. Hitherto his reading had been among the professional books of his father's medical library, varied by the Latin poets, the Greek Testament, Watts' Hymns, and Pope's " Hiad." But meter and rhyme were a part of his nature and blossomed out in juvenile verses, religious and political, to the delight of his father and to his own subsequent chagrin. To these there were two notable exceptions, left at home when he went away to practise law in Great Barrington. His father found them one day, six years afterward, when rummaging in a drawer, read them him- self and to a neighbor, and without asking his son's The Knickerbocker Group 205 permission started post-haste for Boston and the editor of the "North American Keview," then a two-year-old magazine. If this overland journey of one hundred miles was a remarkable instance of paternal pride, there was some- thing to warrant it, for one of the poems was .. ^hana- "Thanatopsis" and the other " An" Inscription *°p^'^-" upon the Entrance to a Wood." The first of these was enough to establish the author as a poet of no common order. It came to a reflective people in an age when the shadow of gloom had not entirely passed, having a sad note that appeals to every reader in sober days, and rais- ing visions of the sublimity, majesty, and vastness of the Universe whicji bring a pleasing awe to the soul of man in the presence of infinity and futurity. It is a poem of the intellect rather than the heart, grand, austere, solemn, a funeral anthem of the human race. " The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, Are shining on the sad abodes of death Through the still lapse of ages." Mystery, immensity, and eternity are over and around the endless procession of life toward the grave. But upon it the poet looks with the undisturbed spirit of an upright man who accepts the mighty order which he cannot obstruct or change. His unfaltering trust is in the Power which is beneath the majestic movement toward repose. A few called it pagan verse, not dis- cerning the unity of its theme or its fidelity to the title — "A View of Death" — not of life or immortality. He simply restricted himself to his topic, without even touching upon the hopeful reflections about the future in /( 2o6 American Literature which another would have taken refuge. "With all the tokens of genius in it the verse has the chill of November, and the sky must have been cold and the trees bare when it was written. Besides, the author had been reading Blair and Porteus and Kirke White on death and the grave. It seems like the last note of a New England druid bard prolonging a refrain from previous centuries, but in a strain of which the province had never dreamed, and to which, it must be said, the poet himself never quite attained again. But he wrote other poems that readers like better than this requiem of the universe. And in them all is the A Poet of ^^^® °^ nature, struck by a sympathetic ob- Nature. scrver — not of her gracious moods alone, but of the severe and fateful as well. Out of them all, how- ever, he drew lessons of truth or beauty or morals. He finds the law of guidance in the flight of the lone water- fowl across the December sky, and of hope in the fringed gentian blossoming on the border of winter. The " Forest Hymn," the " Death of the Flowers," the " Song of the Lover," and others longer or shorter are charged with the bloom of summer and the frosts of winter and tinted with hues of spring and autumn. He inclines to the latter with the sober inheritance from a Puritan ancestry and writes : " The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds and naked woods and meadows brown and sere." Yet into " The Little People of the Snow " he has put a sympathetic strain, such as is not always found with eulogists of winter, and never with shivering grumblers about it. But then, he survived the rigors of twenty Cummington winters before he went to New York and The Knickerbocker Group 207 the sultriness of as many summers, and thereupon could also write : " The quiet August noon has come, A slumbrous silence fills the sky ; The fields are still, the woods are dumb ; In glassy sleep the waters lie." Open the volume of one hundred and sixteen poems anywhere, and some phase of nature is presented, usually in her quiet majesty. Sometimes patriotic and national strains appear, as in the " Song of Marion's Men," " The Green Mountain Boys," " Our Country's Call," and " Mother of a Mighty Eace," but the return is speedy to ''The White-Footed Deer," "The Hunter of the Prairies," and " The Death of the Flowers." He is preeminently the poet of woods and waters, of earth and sky, of sum- mer and winter, of the times and seasons, the days and the years. There is no room to speak of the vocation of his life as an editor, which he pursued from his thirtieth year, when he came to New York in 1825 as a literary adventurer. His connection for fifty years with its principal paper, the " Evening Post," belongs to th« history of journalism, and is as remarkable as his avocation of poet. It was the latter that he loved best; as a poet he wished to be known. But he never allowed one pursuit to interfere with the other. The city and his office were for the editor; the retreat at "Eoslyn" for the poet when the day's work was done. In this way he kept the inheri- tance of his youth until fourscore years of labor in the great city and in the greater nation had passed over him. In a sense he remained a New Englander to the last in the seclusion of his editorial room and in the retirement of 2o8 American Literature his Long Island country house. He was always lifting up his eyes to the Hampshire hills, whence came his strength of poetic inspiration, and whither at length he used to return every summer to the home of his youth. Bryant's verse will always have its own charm for New Englanders and for their descendants wherever they may live. They love the moods of nature with which the fathers played and fought hy turns. The viking hlood in their veins still makes them sing : " The winds from off the Norseman hills Do shriek a fearsome song ; There 's music in the shrieking winds That blow my bark along." Besides, there is in his poems the flower of that imagi- nation which, in spite of his pretended indifference, was in the Puritan's soul. It finally blossomed out early in the last century like a crocus on the sunny edge of a snow-drift in northwestern Massachusetts. It revelled in the solemn, the sublime, the severe, as the forefathers had for two hundred years. Moreover, the first eminent poet had all their conscientiousness in his performance of his task, even if he did break with their Calvinism. His measure is exact, his rhyme is perfect, and, more than all, his moral tone is without a flaw. Strength and health are in his verse. Those wiU read it whose mental consti- tution can stand the north wind, and who " In the love of nature hold Communion with her visible forms ; The hills rock-ribbed and ancient as the 8un ; the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between ; The venerable woods — rivers that move In majesty and the complaining brooks That make the meadows green ; and poured round all, Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste." The Knickerbocker Group 209 Bryant had his limitations, as every writer has who contributes to a nation's literature without attempting everything in it. He did not aspire to an epic, being content to make a good translation of Homer. He did not pretend to be an orator, although he could deliver just and noble eulogies upon his early contemporaries and others. Beyond the narrow compass of his nature-songs he did not often venture, but within it he commanded the earliest recognition of American verse abroad, and won a permanent place among the poets of clear vision, calm contemplation, and profound sympathy with every mood of the natural world and every manifestation of its beauty and its power. The solemn undertone heard in " Thanatopsis," the first of his verse, is audible in the last of it, " The Flood of Years," as in much that falls between. *^ A mighty Hauid, from an exhaustless Urn, Pours forth the never-ending Flood of Years Among the nations. How the rushing waves Bear all before them I On their foremost edge, And there alone, is Life. The Present there Tosses and foams, and fills the air with roar Of mingled noises. There are they who toil, And they who strive, and they who feast, and they Who hurry to and fro. The sturdy swain — Woodman and delver with the spade — is there And busy artisan beside his bench ; And pallid student with his written roll, A moment on the mounting billow seen. The flood sweeps over them and they are gone. Lo ! wider grows the stream — a sea-like flood Saps earth's walled cities ; massive palaces Crumble before it ; fortresses and towers Dissolve in the swift waters ; populous realms Swept by the torrent see their ancient tribes 14 2IO American Literature Engulfed and lost ; their very languages Stifled, and never to be uttered more. What is there beyond ; Hear what the wise and good have said. Beyond That belt of darkness, still the Years roll on More gently, but with not less mighty sweep. They gather up again and softly bear All the sweet lives that late were overwhelmed And lost to sight. ... So they pass From stage to stage along the shining course Of that bright river, broadening like a sea. A Present in whose reign the eternal Change That waits on growth and action shall proceed With everlasting Concord hand in hand." XIX JAMES FENIMORE COOPER A New Jeksey judge who had acquired tracts of land among and around the sources of the Susquehanna in central New York, built a stately mansion on the shore of Otsego lake and removed his and Literary ° _ Ventures. family thither in 1790. His son James, then a year old, grew up in this wilderness in the midst of a sort of baronial grandeur among Indians, trappers, and the dependents of a landed proprietor. He learned many things not put down in the school books and other books which were in his father's library, things which were to be of value to himself, and of great interest to others when he should begin to tell about them. The lore of woods and waters, the craft of savage and beast, the rival cunning of an invading race, were lessons which were acquired with- out urging. In seventeen years his education in wood- craft was finished, with some knowledge of books in three years at Yale. Then he went to sea and learned something about its mysteries and more about ships and sailors. Later, as a naval officer stationed on Lake Ontario, he came to know the ways of the inland seas. Next he married, stayed three years longer in Cooperstown, and went to Mamaroneck to live in quiet contentment within reach of Knickerbocker friends until he was seized with the notion, at the age of twenty-nine, that he could write a better novel than the one he happened to be reading. He 211 212 American Literature began to write " Precaution." If he had taken a little himself he would not have written the dreary story of English society life, about which he then knew nothing. But at that time all American authors had to do imitative work before they began to quarry the wealth of material close at hand. In this very year of 1820 Irving was writing the "Sketch Book," half English in character. Cooper was next urged to follow Scott, who had just fin- ished the historical "Ivanhoe." The outcome was the " Spy," a novel of the Eevolution, already beginning to be historical after forty years. The scene was laid in the writer's neighborhood, the old neutral ground between two armies, plundered by both. The book was a great success at home and abroad, in England as well as Amer- ica. Translated into French, it found its way into other languages and many lands, into Persia, Arabia, and the far East. The new nation had now a novelist of its own to portray its new life to all the world. This was stiU more evident when " The Pioneers " fol- lowed two years afterward. This time the author worked Stories of another field with which he was even more the Border, familiar — the wilderness, where he had grown up. Harvey Birch, the spy, was succeeded by Natty Bumppo, the backwoodsman, appealing to that aboriginal love of adventure and of the forest which clings to every boy like a heritage of the primeval life of the race. It was next to returning to the wigwam and the chase and the tribal feud. There had been nothing like it in Europe since the stone age. Here it was the experience of a young writer who was throwing only a thin tissue of romance over the trapper and the savage he had seen a hundred times. The story was as good as true and as interesting as fie- James Fenimore Cooper 213 tion, and always a favorite of the author's. Sometimes descriptive padding blocked the progress of events, but impatient readers early learn the skipping trick, sometimes to their loss and again to their gain. But Cooper had created or translated from life a great character, of whom he made the best and the most, running him through the series of five romances which bear the name of " Leather- stocking." He is the primitive American, evolved from two centuries' contact of the early colonist and adventurer with the wilderness. He has taken on its color and become a part of its life, a competitor with the wild beast and wild Indian in the struggle for existence, without being degraded to the level of either. The nobler teachings of nature have fallen upon a white soul full of native justice and true nobility until a type of humanity is produced which might be taken as pristine in its native simplicity and honesty. It is barely possible that & travestied impres- sion of this original creation has survived in the foreign mind, making it think of all Americans as backwoodsmen, with more or less of acquired guile, whose present counter- parts are the spectacular creatures of a wild west show. This incongruous specimen should be distinguished from Cooper's frontiersman. Also his Indian from those seen at a railway station on the plains. The old charge that he idealized the red proprietors of the woods and waters may be partly met by saying that the race has not been improved by rum or the ethics of traders and the agents of a paternal government. He doubtless had his unlovely streaks, but the early education furnished by the British- American settler developed the vices of both races in a fertile soiL To learn what was Cooper's restoration of the aboriginal 214 American Literature type the five Leatlierstocking tales will be read, and in the following order if the career of the woodsman is to be traced to the end : " The Deerslayer," " The Last of the Mohicans," " The Pathfinder," " The Pioneers," and " The Prairie," although this is not the order in which they were written. When Cooper had gratified his love of nature by picturing life upon the frontier in " The Pio- Sea-Stories. ,, . - neers, he turned to his recollections of sea- faring exploits and wrote " The Pilot," impelled, it is said, by Scott's blunders in his " Pirate." Two fresh fields had been broken w^hen he entered upon one old as the sea, and cultivated ever since Ulysses sailed the " unharvested deep," from which, however, a large crop of stories has been taken from Homer's time onward. But there was enough left in its depths and on its sur- face to make a most successful story in the hands of a genuine sailor, as Cooper was. A large and breezy sort of man, he loved the wide ocean next to the boundless forest. He was not always finically careful about details of composition, but he made no landsman's mistakes about ships' rigging and sailors' lingo. A man-of-war was in his day a thing of beauty when under full sail, if not so terrific in battle as its hardshell successor. The romance of the engine-room is now the popular topic on seven seas, but Cooper's wing-and-wing fancies will always people a receding age with a race of fighting sailors who belonged to a perilous time in our early history. Their conflicts with a great maritime power can best be under- stood in the pages of " The Pilot" and " The Eed Eover." In the departments of sea and frontier life Cooper became our first historical novelist, having Scott only for a rival, James Fenimore Cooper 215 and that without being his imitator. On British ground their books sold side by side, and had the same translators into foreign tongues. Each in his own way brought great credit to his country and great renown to himself. But it was in Sir Walter's own Edinburgh and in its " Keview " that the words were written : " The empire of the sea is conceded to Cooper by acclamation." Every writer must have his ups and downs, and Cooper's alternated with customary regularity or irregularity. When he attempted to repeat the success of his first uneven American novel, " The Spy," in « Lionel Lin- ^"^ coin " he did not attain eminence. Not through any lack of painstaking, for he wearied himself in preparatory research, only to add one more instance in proof of the fact that a work may be overdone for the popular taste. Eeaders do not mind a little margin for history to work loosely in when it is embodied in a story, and especially as in good histories there are conflicting accoimts of the same occurrence. At any rate, the novelist has the painter's license to make history picturesque and events to occur in the order they should have happened for the best dramatic effect. A genuine artist does not hesitate to set to one side an obtrusive tree in the middle foreground of his landscape. Why should not a good novelist follow his example ? Darwin has called the slaying of a beautiful theory by an ugly fact one of the tragedies of life. There- fore the romancer will not be too considerate of inconvenient truth when he is following his craft. A regard for exact- ness troubled Cooper less than his departure from his own special stamping ground into a territory which was more successfully explored by the introspective novelists of a later day. His was the season of the outer world of action, 2i6 American Literature whether of chivalry and border wars, with Scott, or of the forest and the sea, with himself. What a person's thoughts, emotions and motives were was interpreted by his actions. To describe these significantly was the high attainment of the romancer of the first quarter of the century. Hawthorne and George Eliot were later arrivals. In " The Last of the Mohicans," 1826, Cooper picked himself up again, being on his own ground once more, hand in hand with Leatherstocking, now in the manly prime of a forester, than whom no finer woodland char- acter has been created since the day of the mythical Eobin Hood. Nor was the American specimen an outlaw and a princely thief, as became the Saxon under Norman op- pression. Instead, he had every homely virtue that might adorn a nobleman of nature unspoiled by contact with scoundrels of the settlements or the town. With this book Cooper achieved his greatest success at home and abroad among the multitudes who read what they like and turn a deaf ear to the charmer critics, charm they never so wisely. These did by no means agree among themselves, and thereby made good their title. As a rule, they put their ears to the ground to catch the rumble and the grumble of British criticism, by which to be guided in their own. They could not believe that America had produced anything equal to the Waverley novels until Germany had spoken with the authority of a bystander reading both authors in the same English language. It was as likely to estimate Scott by Cooper as Americans were to gauge Cooper by Scott. At this point the successful novelist was able to go abroad for seven years, and incidentally to enjoy the tribute which was freely accorded by foreigners who had James Fenimore Cooper 217 confidence in their own estimates of literary values, even if they did not enrich the author by a share in the profits on pirated editions of his works. Yet they gave i„ porcign him cordial welcome, and would have made a ^^'^*' lion of him if he had permitted the show. But natural scenery was more attractive to him than social displays, and he found his enjoyment in the sunny skies of Italy, the mountains of Switzerland, and the old German cities. Meantime his pen was busy with " The Prairie," " The lied Kover," " The Wept of Wishton Wish," and " The Water Witch." Of these " The Ked Eover " was most approved, surpassing " The Pilot " even in its interest to lovers of sea stories. Imitations of these stories had been springing up after his first venture, like catboats following afar in the wake of a racer. His own books, however, were multi- plying faster than all their imitations, being published as soon as written in over thirty different places in Europe, and read as far east as Egypt, Jerusalem, and Ispahan. It was now 1830, the high-tide of his prosperity. Then it turned to the ebb. The story of its decline is long and tedious. It began here before his residence -I-. rrn 1 • • • -I Controversy. m Europe. There his imperious temper and ardent patriotism could not brook the evil speech against the young republic which he everywhere heard. He became the champion of its new ideas and liberties, and was assailed as its volunteer representative. On the other hand, there were ways of his countrymen which he found difficult to defend, and told them so, exasperating them in turn. He thus contrived to place himself between two fires, and made enemies by thousands in two hemispheres. Imperialists hated him for his republicanism, and freemen were ready to crush him for daring to say that they were 21 8 American Literature not time's noblest offspring. Accordingly both sides pounced upon him and his books. It was more difficult to injure his work than himself, for the praise of his romance had been too general and unqualified to be reversed all at once. So the attack was made personal, and critical too, so far as consistency would permit, or inconsistency, for that matter. Newspapers ran wild in a field of slander, whose borders had not been defined in the direction of libel. Cooper determined to have the boundary line run, and prosecuted one and another with greater success than could have been expected had not offences been too glaring to be denied. Meantime he went on castigating foreigners and the home-bom with his versatile pen. In the " Letters of a And Traveling Bachelor," "Eesidence in Europe," Criticism. "Letter to His Countrymen," "Homeward Bound," and "Home as Found," he is the censor of his native land, and shared the hatred which follows that official, especially when self-appointed. He was not fitted to lessen the inevitable unpleasantness attached to his assumed mission. His own arrogance and violence pro- voked a similar spirit in others, which retorted in virulent personal abuse. This was checked in its public expression by lawsuits, which had the good effect of limiting the license of the press in personal matters, but the rancor of his enemies was undiminished for years. It was fostered by positions which he took in his " Naval History of the United States," contrary to the popular view of the real hero in the battle of Lake Erie, but fortified by subsequent decisions in arbitration. In this case, as in others. Cooper was not so far from right as from urbanity and suavity in maintaining it. Still, it must be conceded that he had James Fenimore Cooper 219 not much encouragement to cultivate these virtues. Nor had he much inclination. Hence it was "Athanasius against the world " once more. He more than held his own, but the record of the contest does not add to his literary reputation. It may be guessed that the quality of his work was not improved. That he turned out " The Pathfinder " and " The Deerslayer " in the midst of these broils indicates the ability of disciplined genius to abstract itself from the disturbances incident to life or sometimes to its own eccentricities. But while in these two books he repeated his former successes, the average of his performances was lower, especially if his controversial writings are included in the general estimate. It was when he turned to the forest or the sea and recalled the associations of his earlier and happier days that he appeared to forget his enemies and his critics, and to run free with the sailor, the trapper, and the Indian. In these thirty volumes of creations he has had plenty of imitators, but no superior or equal. A swarm of cheap American tales of the frontier, the prairie, and ,.,,,., Popularity. the mountains, overspreading the land m the last half century like grasshoppers, shows that the popular appetite for aboriginal adventure is always keen and often satisfied with indifferent fare. In the present day of the society novel, includiug all its grades, there is less chance for earlier and less artistic productions to catch the gen- eral eye, but the American boy — and he is sometimes well along in years — will have his hours when he will be irresistibly impelled to take to the woods or to go to sea. Next to doing either is to read Cooper. The un- critical age of youth is the best time to read him. The 220 American Literature country itself was in its youth when he took it by storm, and, it was a boyish quarrel that alternated with boyish enthusiasm. But now and then there will be an old boy who will turn to the romances which were the delight of his youth to see if there is still in them the odor of pines and of the salt sea, and if they will bring back memo- ries of bright days when his highest ambition was to roam the woods with a rifle or to sail the Spanish main. There- fore our earliest novelist who came to stay is still a welcome guest, more and more as unhappy controversy recedes, and as the disposition to recall early features of American life grows stronger and stronger. A few paragraphs from "The Last of the Mohicans," will bring back memories of the books which used to stir the aboriginal blood that runs in boys. *• Throughout the whole of these trying moments Uncas alone had preserved his serenity. He looked on the preparations with a steady eye, and when the tormentors came to seize him he met them with a firm and upright attitude. One among them, if possible more fierce and savage than his fellows, seized the hunting shirt of the young warrior, and at a single effort tore it from his body. Then, with a yell of frantic pleasure, he leaped toward his unresisting victim, and prepared to lead him to the stake. But, at that moment, when he appeared most a stranger to the feelings of humanity, the purpose of the savage was arrested as suddenly as if a supernatural agency had interposed in behalf of Uncas. The eyeballs of the Delaware seemed to start from their sockets ; his mouth opened, and his whole form became frozen in an attitude of amazement. Rais- ing his hand with a slow and regulated motion, he pointed with a finger to the bosom of the captive. His companions crowded about him in wonder, and every eye was, like his own, fag- toned intently on the figure of a small tortoise, beautifully tattooed on the breast of the prisoner in a light blue tint. James Fenimore Cooper 221 "For a single instant Uncas enjoyed his triumph, smiling calmly on the scene. Then motioning the crowd away with a high and haughty sweep of his arm, he advanced in front of the nation with the air of a king, and spoke in a voice louder than the murmur of admiration that ran through the multitude. " * Men of the Lenni Lenape,' he cried, * my race upholds the earth ! Your feeble tribe stands on my shell ! What fire, that a Delaware can light, would burn the child of my fathers ? The blood that came of such a stock would smother your flames I Mine is the grandfather of nations ! ' " * Who art thou ] ' demanded Tamenund, rising at the startling tones he heard, more than at any meaning conveyed by the language of the prisoner. " * Uncas, the son of Chingachgook,' answered the captive, modestly, turning from the nation, and bending his head in reverence to the other's character and years ; ' a son of the Great Unamis [Turtle.] ' " * The hour of Tamenund [Tammany] is nigh ! ' exclaimed the sage. *The day is come at last to the night; I thank the Manitto that one is here to fill my place at the council fire. Uncas, the child of Uncas is found ! Let the eyes of a dying eagle gaze on the rising sun.*" The following abridgment will remind some readers of " The Pilot " which filled their young heads with dreams of adventure on the high seas. " ' ITow is the time to watch her closely, Mr. Griffith,' the pilot cried. * Here we get the true tide and the real danger. Place the quartermaster of your ship in those chains, and let an officer stand by him and see that he gives us the right water.' " * I will take that office on myself,* said the captain ; * pass a light into the weather main-chains.* " ' Stand by your braces ! * exclaimed the pilot, with startling quickness. ' Heave away that lead ! ' " These preparations taught the crew to expect the crisis, and 222 American Literature every officer and man stood in fearful silence at his assigned station, awaiting the issue of the trial. " While this deep expectation pervaded the frigate, the pierc- ing cry of the leadsman as he called, *By the mark seven,' rose above the tempest, crossed over the decks, and appeared to pass away to the leeward, borne on the blast like the warnings of some water-spirit. '* * 'T is well,' returned the pilot calmly ; * try it again.' " The short pause was succeeded by another cry, ' And a half five.' " ' She shoals ! she shoals ! ' exclaimed Griffith ; * keep her a good full' " The third call, * By the deep four,' was followed by a prompt direction from the stranger to tack. " The vessel rose slowly from the inclined position into which she had been forced by the tempest, and the sails were shaking violently, as if to release themselves from their confinement, while the ship stemmed the billows, when the well-known voice of the sailing-master was heard from the forecastle : ** ^ Breakers ! breakers, dead ahead ! ' *' This appalling sound seemed yet to be lingering about when a second voice cried : ^' ' Breakers on our lee bow ! ' . . . . " There was no time for reply ; the ship had been rapidly run- ning into the wind, and as the efforts of the crew were paralyzed by the contradictory orders they had heard, she gradually lost her way, and in a few seconds all her sails were taken aback. " Before the crew understood the situation the pilot applied the trumpet to his mouth, and in a voice that rose above the tem- pest, thundered forth his orders. The helm was kept fast, the head-yards swung up heavily against the wind, and the vessel was soon whirling round on her heel with a retrograde move- ment. . . . For an hour longer there was a fearful struggle for their preservation, the channel becoming at each step more com- plicated. ... At length the ship reached a point where she appeared to be rushing directly into the jaws of destruction, when suddenly her course was changed, and her head receded James Fenlmore Cooper 223 rapidly from the wind, and quick as thought the frigate was gliding along the channel before the wind. . . . " The lieutenant grasped the hand of the other as he said : " ' You have this night proved yourself a faithful pilot, and such a seaman as the world cannot equal.* " The naval battles in this book and in the " Eed Eover"are interesting reading alongside Spanish- American accounts of turret-gun, armor-plate warfare a century and a quarter later. Methods have changed, but results are relatively similar. Will the steel volcanoes afford as much inspiration to the coming Cooper as the bristling hulls and clouds of canvas did to our first novelist of the sea? XX NATHANIEL P. WILLIS AND BAYARD TAYLOR There are names in the history of any literature which become faint echoes of their former importance. Once they were shouted by the multitude ; now they are recalled as having a half-familiar sound and suggesting further inquiry. If a popular vote had been taken in the second quarter of the century for the most widely admired writer of emotional Early verse and of light and graceful prose, Nathaniel Promise. Parker Willis would have received the ma- jority of suffrages. He was another New Englander who drifted into the literary coterie of New York in the years when it was the centre of attraction for young writers. Born in Portland, Maine, with the advantages of a pub- lisher for a grandfather and the editor of a religious paper for his father, the young student at Yale illustrated the law of heredity in his college course by writing poems almost as precocious as Bryant's and of far greater emotional power. To be sure, they were scriptural in tone, but tradition has it that this was not due to an overreligious- ness on the part of the poet himself. Yet the same may be said of Young's " Night Thoughts," that solemn book over which our fathers used to pore and fall asleep in blissful unconsciousness of the somewhat worldly-minded- ness of the courtly author. Still there is no good reason why the product of a poet's best impulses should not be taken for what it is worth to the reader in reproducing 224 Nathaniel P. Willis and Bayard Taylor 225 similar emotions in Ms own mind. Biography may explain literature, but it need not necessarQy qualify it. Accordingly, these " Scripture Sketches "of the college youth may be allowed to stand for those better moods of reflection and aspiration which alternate with academic surplusages of animal spirits, for whose effervescence no gymnasium was supplied at Yale in 1825. As offsets to what then took the place of athletics in various devices for keeping a high temperature in the old town Willis could write such verse as "Absalom" and "Jephtha's Daughter." " The pall was settled. He who slept beneath Was straightened for the grave ; and as the folds Sunk to the still proportions, they betray'd The matchless symmetry of Absalom. His hair was yet unshorn, and sUken curls Were floating round the tassels as they sway'd To the admitted air, as glossy now As when, in hours of gentle dalliance, bathing The snowy fingers of Judea's daughters. His helm was at his feet : his banner, soiled With trailing through Jerusalem, was laid, Ee versed beside him : and the jewell'd hilt, Whose diamonds lit the passage of his blade, Eested, like mockery, on his cover'd brow." « The king stood still Till the last echo died ; then, throwing off The sackcloth from his brow, and laying back The pall from the still features of his child. He bow'd his head upon him, and broke forth In the resistless eloquence of woe." But Jephtha's was the greater woe for the daughter doomed by his own rash vow : " A pallid man Was stretching out his hands to heaven. As if he would pray'd, but had no words — 15 . 226 American Literature And she who was to die, the calmest one In Israel at that hour, stood up alone, And waited for the sun to set. Her face Was pale, but very beautiful — her lip Had a more delicate outline, and the tint Was deeper ; but her countenance was like The majesty of angels." This is not MiltoniCj'to be sure, but it is an improvement upon the Canaanitish verse of Yale in the days of D wight. Literature did not offer so many paths to a college graduate turned loose seventy-five years ago as in these Light Prose ^^^^ times. It was a confident or desperate and Verse. youth who dared to trust to the pen for a living. Willis, however, had been commended for his college pieces, and had won a publisher's prize of fifty dollars for the best gift-book poem. With this send-off the recent graduate undertook the editorship of a series of volumes published by that " Peter Parley " to whom sundry American authors of distinction owed their bringing out. Then the "American Magazine" was established, to be finally merged into the " New York Mirror," to which Willis con- tributed editorial letters during two years' travel in the old world. These "Pencilings by the Way" were the first valuable specimens of the abundant literature of American travel, often more interesting to the writer than the reader. This writer, however, had the pencil quality in his pen, and could put life and picturesqueness iuto worn paths and dull statistics. Besides, he was favored with pass- ports as an attach^ of the American minister at Paris, giving him access to courtly circles in Europe and the East. With such facilities the record of travel made by such an observer was a revelation to those even who had been over the ground and a delight to those who had not. Nathaniel P. Willis and Bayard Taylor 227 The sale of the " Pencilings " was greatly increased by a savage review in the " Quarterly," and a personal article by Captain Marryatt occasioned a meeting for satisfaction in which Willis came off best. Four years of residence abroad satisfied this travel and society loving American for a while, who then took up his abode far from cities and men in his cottage at Glenmary, on the Susquehanna, where he wrote the " Letters from Under a Bridge." Then came the financial reverse, which in so many instances has been the spur to easy-going loi- terers along the highway of letters, driving him back to New York and to work on the " Corsair," a weekly journal which had the distinction of employing Thackeray as a contributor before he had grown so great as in the days of "The Newcomes." This paper was soon abandoned for the " Evening Mirror," the demands of which undermined his health, resulting, after a third voyage to Europe, in the establishment of the " Home Journal " and insuring a more moderate pace in literary labor. The above particulars have been mentioned to illustrate the life of a man of letters in the second generation of the century. It was the period between the news-letter and the journal, with the permanent magazine in its present form still in the distance. Whatever was printed was necessarily brief, or cut into short sections if a long story entailing the reader's impatience or expectancy. A volume of such brevities had usually the same choppy character, with the advantage of being laid down and taken up at odd intervals, — a point in favor of a fragmentary and discursive author like Willis. Yet in the course of a life- time he produced many volumes. To read half of them would be worse than a waste of time. People did not lose 228 American Literature many hours together over them when they were published, since they came out for the most part in weekly instal- ments. On the other hand, if one were stranded in the country with " Hurrygraphs " or " Outdoors at Idlewild " or " People I Have Met " or " Famous Persons and Places " for his only reading, he would find more hours pleasantly occupied than with some more pretentious books. The range is wide over many lands, scenes, and celebrities. Much light is thrown upon contemporary history. The manners of a bygone period in letters and politics in our own country are graphically depicted. Life in other and older lands is contrasted with the simplicity of republican ways, and the scenery of the unbroken wilderness with the artificiality of landscapes that had absorbed the labor of generations. To take a few titles at random from a single volume : — " Letters " from Plymouth, Cape Cod, the Delaware, the Hudson, on Edward Everett, Calhoun, and Benton, Fenimore Cooper, Daniel Webster, Irving, Whipple, Society and Manners in New York, Shoddy Aristocracy, and a score of similar home topics about which everybody was surprised to find how much WilUs could tell them. He had an artist's eye to see the picturesque in familiar objects and the artist's touch to bring out the unexpected beauty or interest of the commonplace. Letters from famous places abroad revealed things unseen to the dwellers in them, and had a twofold interest Travellers' ^^ uutravellcd Americans. They depicted Lon- Letters. ^^^ ^^^ Edinburgh, not forgetting memorable events in their past nor overlooking a Scotch breakfast in the present. Shooting in the highlands relieves an account of the " Blackwood " writers, and the Duke of Aber- deen's hounds are given a place near the personal beauty Nathaniel P. Willis and Bayard Taylor 229 of the English. In a second visit to England he gets a glimpse of the queen, in the third year of her reign, riding from the palace on horseback, with Lord Melbourne on one side and Lord Byron on the other; admires the cavalcade of equipages in Piccadilly, goes to Brighton by stage, meets the Persian ambassador and the king of Oude, dines with royalty, breakfasts with nobility, lunches with authors now called classic, and is everywhere feted and flattered. Spiteful people at home said that his head was turned, as the treatment he received would have turned their own ; but the surfeit of it appears to have been an antidote, and he went on year after year writing lightly and gracefully about places of interest and people of dis- tinction to the delight of all readers of his journal, the " Spectator " of its age. He was a late survivor of the Knickerbocker group, and in some degree a representative of its characteristics in prose or verse. A ready, though careful writer, of quick perceptions rather than of profound Popiar ■^ ^ Literature." views, with a knack of making the most of ordinary topics, and possessing an instinctive knowledge of the attainments of the average reader in his time, he did successful work for that time without giving much thought to the verdict of posterity. If he had regarded it he might have missed its favor and that of his constitu- ency also. It is something to have won the last. There is more in his best writings that is perennial than those who have not read them might suspect. If he cannot be reckoned among the company of immortals, "limited," he should not be overlooked in that other class of men who are useful to their own generation. As he himself wrote : 230 American Literature " I learned also, to my comfort, that nature publishes some volumes with many leaves, which are not intended to be of any posthumous value — the white poplar not lasting three moon- light nights after it is cut down. Even with such speedy decay, however, it throws a pleasant shade while it flourishes ; and so, white poplar literature, recognized as a class in literature, should have its brief summer of indulgence." Many younger writers had good reason to be grateful to him for his encouragement in their early efforts^ He was kind and generous toward all sincere aspirants, and brought out some who, like Lowell, attained a more lasting renown than their early patron. One might go farther afield with Willis than in his " Trip to Scotland " and get less for his trouble. And in that chilly country he might find less interesting gossip than the remarks about " Christopher North/ " I was punctual to my hour, and found the poet standing before the fire with his coat skirts expanded — a large, muscular man, something slovenly in his dress, but with tlie manner and face of high good humor, and remarkably frank and prepossess- ing address. While he was finding me a chair, and saying civil things of the noble friend who had been the medium of our acquaintance, I was trying to reconcile my idea of him, gathered from portraits and descriptions, with the person before me. His head is exceedingly ample, his eye blue and restless, his mouth full of character, and his hair of a light sandy color takes very much its own way, and has the wildness of a Highlander*s. " He talked of American poets, praised Percival and Pierpont, and expressed great pleasure at the criticisms of his own works that had appeared in American papers and magazines. If I had wished to remind him that he had not breakfasted, I should have had no opportunity, for the stream of his eloquence ran on without a break ; and eloquent it certainly was. " I asked if Blackwood was a man of refined literary taste. Nathaniel P. Willis and Bayard Taylor 231 " * Yes/ he said, * I would trust his opinion of a book sooner than any man I know. He might not publish everything he approved, for it was his business to print only things that would sell; and, therefore, there are perhaps many authors who would complain of him; but if his opiinion had been against my own, and it had been my own book, I should believe he was right, and give up my own judgment. He was a patron of literature, and it owes him much. He is a loss to the world/ " And then follows chat about the " Noctes " and its com- pany of wits at Ambrose's, redolent of usquebaugh, and about Lockhart and Scott, Southey and Wordsworth, until Willis drove away to dine with Jeflfrey and his American wife, at whose table politics happened just then to prevail over letters. Greater authors than Willis have been fgted abroad since 1830, but few have met with more celebrities, or been more graciously received in many lands, or in turn have been able to make their " pencilings by the way " more agreeable to readers of several grades; for these notes of his cover every variety of topic from royalty to poultry, and from Cape Cod to Damascus. The illu- mination which his gossipy letters to contemporary journals throw upon life and literature cannot well be disregarded by any student of the period in which he lived and wrote. One of those who were always ready to acknowledge indebtedness to his literary hospitality was Bayard Taylor, a Pennsylvania youth who was blessed with gayard visions of authorship and travel, but troubled '^^y^°'^- with scant means and opportunities. He acquired enough Latin at school to give him a clew to the Eomance languages, and obtained the technical education of a 232 American Literature printing office. To these he added the larger education of a literary tramp in foreign countries, writing letters to newspapers for his support, and after two years returned to New York for fresh orders. The metropolis was still keeping good its title to the largest literary cultivation in the country, if not the highest. What remained of the old Knickerbocker school was doing fair work, and new material was added from time to time. Conspicuous among those already spoken of were Morris, Hoffman, the Duyc- kincks and "certain women of their company," besides sundry bohemian encampments on the borderland between aspiration and performance, all together causing some one to define the Knickerbocker school as " composed of authors whom we all remember as forgotten." To the survivors Willis, Griswold, and Hoffman introduced Taylor, and within three months he had engagements to write for four journals, besides a place as chief of the literary depart- ment of the " Tribune." He was at home in this diversified occupation, writing fifteen hours a day, turning his hand to anything demanded for the daily press, doing his work so carefully and well that he won a higher position and became a stockholder in the company. California and Mexico next gratified his love of travel and adventure, and an invitation to deliver a Commence- Traveiier and "^^^^ poem at Harvard came as a tribute to his Journalist. poetic talent. Then followed the inevitable abuse which dogs success, and because he happened to be the author of a prize song for Jenny Lind and seven hundred and fifty-two other competitors were not, he began .to wish he had never been born a poet. Nevertheless he published " A Book of Eomances, Lyrics, and Songs," and started on a long journey to Europe and the Orient, dur- Nathaniel P. Willis and Bayard Taylor 233 ing which he wrote letters to the " Tribune " and became the " great American traveller," as much at home in Paris or Damascus as in New York. He would rather have been called a reporter, with true loyalty to his journalistic connections. He knew with unerring instinct what to observe and how to convey a picture of it in words to far-away readers ; not with photo- graphic detail so much as with oriental color, and that, too, without Asiatic magnificence of diction. As an out- come of his journeyings he published in one season his " Journey to Central Africa," " The Lands of the Saracen," and " Poems of the Orient," with fourteen thousand of the first two books ordered in advance. " A Visit to India, China, and Japan," followed, with more " Poems " and cyclopedia work. Then came " Northern Travel ; Summer in Sweden," as the result of more journeying, succeeded by an excursion into Greece and ics islands. Thus his volumes of travel at last amounted to eleven, covering the great highways and some of the byways of two hemi- spheres. The day of the stereopticon had not yet arrived. Even now those who do not like to go out nights to see a canvas disc eclipsed by a succession of wonders may have their compensation in staying at home with Bayard Taylor. He, too, had his seasons of lecturing in the years when the lyceums in every town employed such talent as they could afford, and many audiences were entertained and in- structed by his picturesque descriptions of the Arabs, India, and Japan. These lectures he repeated one hundred and eighty times in a single year. But the wear and tear of hard journeys and bad cooking put him out of the itinerant circuit with many another brilliant speaker in that age of popular education from the platform, and he 234 American Literature returned to more agreeable travelling and writing in foreign lands. Afterward he tried his hand at novel writing, produc- ing four, of which " The Story of Kennet " is the best, and " John Godfrey's Fortunes " nearest to the writer's per- sonal experiences as a literary worker in New York. He also attempted the drama under the titles of " The Masque of the Gods," " The Prophet," and " Prince Deu- kalion." Poems he was always writing, in his ambition to become a poet rather than be known as a traveller and journalist. It is not the first instance nor the last of mistaking one's real vocation. His versatility was too great and his labor in many directions too constant to permit the highest attainment in the sublimest art. An author of thirty-seven volumes cannot expect to make many of them classics. Bayard Taylor knew this, and in the manifold labors of a hurried life felt the truth of Chaucer's line : "Na man can werk baith well and hastilie." The distractions of diversified employment made havoc of his supreme ambitions, and disappointed in his dearest hopes he wrote : " And still some cheaper service claims The will that leaps to loftier call ; Some cloud is cast on splendid aims, On power achieved some common thrall.** Nevertheless he left in the abundance of his writings much that instructs and entertains and delights. Doubt- less the majority of readers would prefer the multiform results of his labor to greater excellence in a single de- partment of it. As journalist, traveller, translator, dram- Nathaniel P. Willis and Bayard Taylor 235 atist, and poet, his range is wide enough and sufficiently diversified to relieve his writing from monotony and retain the reader's attention. Beyond this each one will find before reading far something that will appeal to his love of nature, his interest in things and lands remote, or his sense of poetic values. The lesson of all this long and active life is best summed up in the aspiration of the poet's own verse : " Let higher goal and harsher way To test our virtue then combine ! *T is not for idle ease we pray. But freedom for our task divine." In his " By-Ways of Europe " he shows that he took something more than staff and wallet with him. " I had already stood in the hall of the Minnesingers on the Wartburg ; had crept into the Cave of Venus, on the mountain of Tannhauser ; had walked through the Valley of Joy, where the two wives of the Count of Gleichen first met face to face ; and had stood on the spot where Winfried, the English apostle, cut down the Druid oaks and set up in their stead an altar to Christ. But on the northern border of Thiiringia, where its last mountains look across the Golden Mead towards the dark summits of the Hartz, there stands a castle, in whose ruins sleeps the favorite tradition of Germany, — a legend which, changing with the ages, became the embodiment of an idea, and now represents the national unity, strength and freedom. " This is the Kyffhauser ; and the Emperor Frederick Barba- rossa sleeps under it, in a crypt of the mountain, waiting for the day when the whole land, from the Baltic to the Alps shall be ready to receive a single ruler. Then he will come forth, and the lost Empire will be restored. " It is not always best to track a legend too closely. The airy brow of Tannhauser's Mountain proved to be a very ugly rock and very tenacious clay when I climbed it ; and I came forth 236 American Literature from the narrow slit of a cavern torn, squeezed out of breath, and spotted with tallow. Something out of the purple moun- tain and the mystery of its beautiful story has vanished since then. But the day of my departure for the Kyff bauser was meant for an excursion into dream-land. . . . Poetry walked on my right hand, tradition on my left. History respectfully declined to join the party ; the dim, vapory, dreamful atmosphere did not suit her. Why was the dead Barbarossa supposed to be en- chanted in a vault under the Kyffhauser, a castle which he had never made his residence ] Fifteen years ago, at the foot of the Taurus, in Asia Minor, I had stood on the banks of the river in which he was drowned ; and in Tyre I saw the chapel in which, according to such history as we possess, his body was laid. Then why should he, of all the German Emperors, be chosen as the symbol of a political resurrection ? He defied the power of the popes, and was placed under the ban of the Church ; he gained some battles and lost others ; he commenced a crusade, but never returned from it ; he did something towards the creation of a middle class, but in advance of the time when such a work could have been appreciated. He was evidently a man of genius and energy, of a noble personal presence, and probably possessed that individual magnetism, the effect of which survives so long among the people ; yet all these things did not seem to constitute a sufficient explanation. " The popularity of the Barbarossa legend, however, is not to be ascribed to anything in the Emperor's history. In whatever way it may have been created, it soon became the most pictur- esque dream of German unity — a dream to which the people held fast, while the princes were doing their best to make the dream impossible. Barbarossa was not the first, nor the last, nor the best of the great Emperors, but the legend, ever wilful in its nature, fastened upon him, and Art and Literature are forced to accept what they find already accepted by the people." Such comment on what an ordinary tourist would call an uninteresting old ruin — judging by the pencil sketch Taylor made of it — indicates that there may be a genius Nathaniel P. Willis and Bayard Taylor 237 for travel, and that this traveller was something more than a sightseer. He was a peripatetic philosopher in a larger than the Aristotelian sense. He was also an artist in description, as countless portrayals of places and persons reveal in the several volumes of his works. What kind of a poet he was may be answered by these representative lines. It may be referred to anthropologists to fix the approx- imate epoch when " Camadeva " — Love as differentiated from natural selection — came to primitive man. " The sun, the moon, the mystic planets seven, Shone with purer and serener flame, And there was joy on Earth and joy in Heaven When Camadeva came. " The blossoms burst, like jewels of the air. Putting the colors of the morn to shame ; Breathing their odorous secrets everywhere When Camadeva came. " The birds, upon the tufted tamarind spray, Sat side by side and cooed in amorous blame ; The lion sheathed his claws and left his prey When Camadeva came. ** The sea slept, pillowed on the happy shore; The mountain-peaks were bathed in rosy flame ; The clouds went down the sky, — to mount no more When Camadeva came. " The hearts of all men brightened like the mom ; The poet's harp then first deserved its fame, For rapture sweeter than he sang was born When Camadeva came. " All breathing life a newer spirit quaffed, A second life, a bliss beyond a name. And Death, half-conquered, dropped his idle shaft When Camadeva came." 238 American Literature And this on " Nubia " is good to read when life and the times are over-strenuous: " Land of Dreams and Sleep, — a poppied land ! With skies of endless calm above her head, The drowsy warmth of summer noonday shed Upon her hills, and silence stem and grand Throughout her Desert's temple-burying sand. Before her threshold, in their ancient place, With closed lips, and fixed, majestic face, Noteless of Time, her dumb colossi stand. 0, pass them not with light, irreverent tread; Respect the dream that builds her fallen throne, And soothes her to oblivion of her woes. Hush ! for she does but sleep ; she is not dead : Action and Toil have made the world their own, But she hath built an altar to Repose.** XXI JOHN PENDLETON KENNEDY — WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS If the growth of American letters be followed along the Atlantic seaboard as well as in the time order, a phase of it will be discovered to the southward in the second quarter of the century. A few writers who were born within five or six years of 1800 had grown old enough to handle the pen with skill in the third and fourth decades. It was a time when the new American novel was disclosing a native wealth of material out of which romances could be constructed. Cooper had widened the trail which Brockden Brown had blazed through the forest, and now there were many to follow, even if they could not step in Cooper's tracks. The country was large and the wilderness vast and life multi- farious. Writers might be stimulated by the prolific romancer of the woods and the sea and the battlefields of freedom without imitating him more than he had imitated another in Scotland, which was not servilely. Passing from the New York coterie and by the little company of poets who were keeping up the literary tradi- tions of Philadelphia as best they could, one would have found in Baltimore in 1832 a Lawyer and Novelist. lawyer and a statesman who was showing that the South could contribute its own characteristic share to the romance of the period. John Pendleton Kennedy^ 239 240 American Literature born in 1795, joined the volunteer service in the war of 1812, at the close of which he began legal studies, and in 1818 took up literary pursuits as a diversion. Politics appear to have been forced upon him with the honor of repeated elections to Congress and attendant positions of responsibility, culminating in the secretaryship of the navy, an office that has been filled several times by men of letters. Twenty years before this, in 1832, he pub- lished his first novel, " Swallow Barn ; or, a Sojourn in the Old Dominion," portraying plantation life in Virginia on its white side, genial, generous, and hospitable. The sketches which are here strung on the thread of a story have a flowing ease of diction and accuracy of observation that are continually suggestive of Irving and " Bracebridge Hall." Their minuteness of descriptive detail is photo- graphic in accuracy, leaviug, also, strong impressions of salient features and a general view of somewhat drowsy and dishevelled landscapes, like those of the Hudson in the days of the Dutch. Sleepy Hollow is recalled by the dell on the banks of the James, and Ichabod Crane by the pedagogue Chub. Faithful representations are given of court-house scenes and county politics, of domestic econ- omies and extravagances, of convivial boards and moon- light hunts. " Horseshoe Eobinson " was one of the earliest examples of historical romance written in America. Cooper had Histo and ^^^ ^ ^""^P^ "^^^^^ noue of his couutrymcn had Romance. i^qqj^^ able to imitate for ten years after the " Spy " was written. But by 1835 Kennedy could send out something better than an imitation in the story which closes with the battle of King's Mountain in the war for independence. This time he placed his romance in South John P. Kennedy — William G. Simms 241 Carolina, and \Vent back as far as Scott did when he began " Waverley ; or, 'T is Sixty Years Since." Historical events of the revolution were getting far enough back to be seen in perspective. Around them were gathering the mists of tradition, sufficient to produce a requisite halo of romance. Even a delightful myth had time to harden into a fact in threescore years, and what statement of contemporaries was ever so definite and well attested that the acumen of later criticism was not able to upset it? This writer was as faithful to the record as a novelist is required to be, but every one knows that there is no such basis for fiction as fact, and that history is the most ductile, malleable, pliable, and flexible of all materials. Therefore, if any statistician approaches our first or second or twentieth writer of historical romances with Pilate's question. What is truth? let him turn to histo- rians in every nation and time, from Herodotus down, to find a satisfactory answer. If he then addresses the great body of readers, he will also discover that the history they remember best was learned in novels, and sometimes that the later the history the nearer the sifted tradition comes to romance. In any case, the story of the independence conflict as told by this author is interesting in its por- trayal of a divided public sentiment, and of the vicissi- tudes of strife in a sparsely inhabited district, ravaged by both armies alternately. With uncommon and conscien- tious fidelity the writer has filled in the darkest period of the war with delineations of characters in all the variety that is found in a new land in its half-built towns and on its ragged frontier, with the quaint and strong per- sonalities and local eccentricities which belonged to pro- vincial life in the eighteenth century. Added to these are 16 242 American Literature violent features which partisan war more than any other develops in jealousy, distrust, and hatred between neigh- bors, friends, and families, with graphic descriptions of bivouac, raid, and battle by one whose familiarity with the ground gives reality and authenticity to every scene. Besides there is emphasized an element of strife in the loyalist or Tory party which is often overlooked or for- gotten by those who give but a passing thought to the war for independence. The ascendency of this party in Caro- lina gave color to a tale of bitter contention. In it also is drawn from life a portrait of Eobinson, as individual and characteristic of its time and place as Cooper's famous hero, Leatherstocking. When in after years the entire story was read to the original he gave the indorsement of an unspoiled critic in the words : " It 's all true and right — in its right place — excepting them women, which I disremember." The immediate popularity of the story brought the author abundant praise from the multitude and generous appreciation from Irving and other writers. Three years later he published " Eob of the Bowl." In this story he came nearer his home, but went farther back in history to the colonial days of the second Lord Balti- more and of the disturbances consequent upon King Charles' order to substitute Protestants for Eoman Catho- lics in every provincial office of trust. Pictures of domes- tic life alternate with wilder scenes on land and sea in a time when smuggling was not sharply distinguished from legitimate commerce by adventurous skippers. Por- traiture of colonial life itself ranged from the governor's mansion to the corsairs' hiding-place, from the nobleman and cavalier to the tailor and the mountebank. In it all is afforded a picture of the times that no chronicle or John P. Kennedy — William G. Simms 243 annals or more pretentious history has given. It is a reproduction of daily life more than of politics and administration, or of these embellished with the happen- ings and the characters which swarm over and under the mock-heroic stateliness of colonial grandeur. " As the author had begun his literary career with the anonymous and Salmagundian " Eed Book " of local fun- making and satire upon the town, so he closed it with a political satire entitled "Quodlibet, by Solomon Second- thought, Schoolmaster," on the period of the national bank and contemporary issues. But the last book is not like the first, nor any one of his three other volumes like either of its companions. They are as diverse at least as the provinces with which they deal, and while remaining faithful to the features of each are broadly and pleasantly Southern in their general character. The author's description of Swallow Bam is a pic- ture of " An aristocratical old edifice which sits, like a brooding hen, on the southern bank of the James Eiver. . . . The main building is more than a century old. It is built with thick brick walls, but one story in height, and surmounted by a double-faced or hipped roof which gives the idea of a ship bottom upwards. Later buildings have been added to this as the wants or ambition of the family have expanded. The hall door is an ancient piece of walnut, which has grown too heavy for its hinges, and by its daily travel has furrowed the floor in a quadrant, over which it has an uneasy journey. An ample court-yard inclosed by a semi-circular paling, extends in front of the whole pile, and is traversed by a gravel road leading from a rather ostentatious iron gate, which is swung between two pillars of brick surmounted by globes of cut stone. . . . " It is pleasant to see the master of this lordly domain when 244 American Literature he is going to ride to the Court House on business occasions. He then is apt to make his appearance in a coat of blue broad- cloth, astonishingly glossy, and with an unusual amount of plaited ruffle strutting through the folds of a Marseilles waist- coat. A worshipful finish is given to this costume by a large straw hat, lined with green silk. There is a magisterial fulness in his garments which betokens condition in the world, and a heavy bunch of seals, suspended by a chain of gold, jingles as he moves, pronouncing him a man of superfluities." Other details are equally faithful to the old time plantation life and character, of which the following should not be missed: "These hovels [of the negroes], with their appurtenances, formed an exceedingly picturesque landscape. They were scattered, without order, over the slope of a gentle hill, and many of them embowered under old and majestic trees. The rudeness of their construction rather enhanced the attractiveness of the scene. Some few were built after the fashion of the better sort of cottages; but the more lowly and the most numerous were nothing more than plain log cabins not more than twelve feet square, and not above seven in height. A door swung upon wooden hinges, and a small window of two narrow panes of glass were the only openings in front." In the midst of these and many more features of South- ern life it is interesting to note an opinion on the negro question written in 1829. " What the negro is finally capable of, in the way of civiliza- tion, I am not philosopher enough to determine. In the present stage of his existence he presents himself to my mind as essentially parasitical in his nature. I mean that he is, in his moral constitution, a dependant upon the white race ; dependant for guidance and direction even to the procurement of his most indispensable necessaries. Apart from this protec- tion he has the helplessness of a child, — without foresight, John P. Kennedy — William G. Simms 245 without contrivance, without thrift. This may be the due and natural impression which two centuries of servitude have stamped upon the race. But it is not the less an insurmount- able impediment to that most cruel of all projects — the direct, broad emancipation of these people ; — an act of legislation in comparison with which the revocation of the edict of Nantes would be entitled to be ranked among political benefactions." There is much more in this forty-sixth chapter that is worth reading in the light of events that have occurred since it was written. A more prolific Southern author was William Gilmore Simms of South Carolina. He, too, began life as a lawyer, but left his profession for a more active career Sitnms. as a writer first of verses, after an unsuccessful newspaper experience, publishing his " Lyrical and Other Poems" in 1827, and three other volumes in as many years. " Atlantis, a Story of the Sea," composed on the Massachusetts shore, brought him a generous welcome by the guild of authors in New York, the Harpers issuing this poem and also his first tale, entitled " Martin Faber." Then followed a time of production marvellous in its industry and fertility. Poems, plays, reviews, essays, biographies and, more numerous still, novels, which flowed from a quill that surpassed the so-called fountain pen of intermittent activity and untrustworthy habits. With whatever he wrote, the reservoir of his invention was regular in supply and apparently inexhaustible. The titles of his volumes mark off the years, and sometimes halves and quarters, for the space of an entire generation. They range from west to east, from south to north, from historic and biographic to highly imaginative creations. 246 American Literature To enumerate them is to indicate the line of his literary pilgrimage with its general forward movement and digres- sions into by-paths diverting to himself and entertaining to his readers. Moreover, these titles are half character- izations of the books themselves. **' The Yemassee," " The Partisan," " Southern Passages and Pictures," " Donna Florida," « The Wigwam and the Cabin," " The Damsel of Darien," and the like, are the author's sign -manual of the bequests that are to follow and of what sort they will be. There will be sunshine in them as in the land where they were written, but alternating with black clouds and terrific storms, loyalty with disloyalty, peace with war, family affection with the feuds of kinsmen, the love of indepen- dence with fidelity to colonial traditions, love with duty, filial devotion with a lover's consecration, all intensified by the undeniable influences which belong to race and environment. To characterize the forty-four volumes that he pub- lished in thirty-three years would manifestly be beyond Fertility and ^^® scopc of anything less than a literary Range. biography. On the other hand, it may be said of this voluminous writer, as of many who have written less, that to quote a single passage as an example of his production is as unfair as to bring forward a scale of bark and say. Behold the palmetto tree. Besides, no kind of tree ever had a greater variety of species than this author had diversity of topics, scenes, characters, and, it might be added, grades of work. Amidst so much, however, and in the case of a writer so far removed in time, it will be necessary to call attention to that part of his work which was done best, and which has a value of its own apart from its execution. This is embraced chiefly in his his- John P. Kennedy — William G. Simms 247 torical romances of the war for independence. Passing by " Guy Eivers " and the rest of his border stories and the Indian romance of " The Yemassee," a great success, the first of the Eevolution tales, "The Partisan," appears the same year with Kennedy's " Horseshoe Eobinson," 1835. In this, as in the most of his narratives, true or fictitious, there is an abundance of action, and though the reader is hurried over rough places, there is no danger of falling asleep. He will be treated to sensational scenes of the first magnitude. The play of the drama is the horseplay that belongs to new settlements in fighting trim. A wild and careless freedom, holding the life cheap that belongs to other people, especially to an adver- sary, is apt to give interest to lovers of tragedy. Color is laid on thick and strong without much delicacy of shad- ing, and a serviceable character once introduced is made the most of. In " Mellichampe " the career of Marion during the period described, the writer asserts, is true to the letter of written history. If the story varies from this, the author is careful to mention in a preface that the divergence is supported by tradition. But he will not dignify this interesting episode with the name of historical romance, because it contains nothing which had a visible effect upon the progress of the Eevolution. Still it throws a strong light upon the "times that tried men's souls," and gives that personality and particularity to actors and events which the best histories cannot stop to give in dealing with large issues. The reader who takes up these romances of our earlier writers must not expect them to resemble the fine-spun creations of the present day. They are not fabrications of the drawing-room and the city street or country village. 248 American Literature They belong to the frontier, the settlement, or the colonial town ; to backwoodsmen, patriot troops, and British regu- lars. As such they have a roughness, or sometimes an inartistic artificiality that is no better, in scenes that would be overdrawn if they were less than true in their violence. They represent the heroic time in all its strength of pur- pose, with the incidental bitterness that grew out of it between men of the same neighborhood or of the same race who had resorted to arms on a question of loyalty to an oppressive government or of independent home rule. Fourscore years later readers of these romances could understand in the light of a subsequent war how fam- ilies could be separated and feuds spring up between friendly households and some of the distresses of an earlier time be reproduced. A few drops from the stream of Simms' romance may give a taste of the water, but they cannot picture the pes- tilential morass, swarming with reptiles, — the only safe refuge of patriots, — the dark gorge, the copse-wood ambush, and the embattled field through which and more the story runs. Such a drop is the incident of Colonel Walton's rescue when Comwallis condemned him to be hanged in sight of his home, after his rejection of a proffered com- mission in the British army. The account is necessarily condensed. " The procession moved on ; the crowd gathered ; the tree was before the doomed victim ; and the officer in command, riding up, ordered a halt before it, and proceeded to make his arrange- ments, when the bell sounded : a single stroke and then a pause — as if the hand grew palsied immediately after. That stroke, however, so single, so sudden, drew every eye, aroused all attention, and, coming immediately upon the solemn feelings in- John P. Kennedy — William G. Simms 249 duced by the approaching scene in the minds of all the spec- tators, it had the effect of startling, for an instant, all who heard it. " But when it was repeated with reckless unregulate4 peal the surprise was complete. The signal had been heard and obeyed by other conspirators. A sudden rush of flame rose from the centre of the village, — another and another in different direc- tions. The crowd broke through the guard clustering around the prisoner and as the officer tried to keep his ranks unbroken he fell beneath the unerring aim of a rifleman in a tree top. The officer next in command coolly enough prepared to do his duty. He closed his men around the prisoner, and when rushing horses were heard trooping from the woods, he boldly faced in the direction of the expected enemy. Singleton was penetrating the square in which his uncle was prisoner. Right and left his heavy sabre descended, biting fatally at every stroke. He seemed double-armed and invulnerable. He ploughed his way through the living wall, with a steel and strength equally irresistible. "Walton at this moment sprang from the cart and the partisans gathered around him. The guard recoiled, and in the moment Colonel Walton gained the cover of the wood ; another found him mounted ; and rushing forth, with a wild shout, he gave the enemy an idea of the presence of some fresher enemy, and the dismembered guard fled down the road.*' A few other novelists of this primitive period do not deserve the oblivion that is likely to befall them. Dr. Kobert M. Bird of Philadelphia is best remem- bered by the character of Spartacus in the porary Novelists. « Gladiator," but " Nick of the Woods," a post- revolution story, endeared him to the youth of his day, and gave him the questionable prominence of being the patriarch of aU who manufacture dime novels stuffed with Indians, tomahawks, and scalping knives. Other tales of 250 American Literature the border and the sea suggest the fashion started by Cooper, so pleasing to the young American heart that it could not get enough from any single author. A physician of New York, Dr. William S. Mayo, gratified the roving propensity of the Yankee nation by constructing a story out of his observations during a tour through the Barbary States and Spain, in which he weds Jonathan Komer, a thoroughbred Vermonter, to an African princess rejoicing in the mellifluous name of "Kaloolah," furnishing the title to a novel of tropical luxuriance in some respects. To this he added " The Berber ; or. The Mountaineer of the Atlas," in similar strain, and " Komance Dust from the Historic Placer," stories founded upon historical incidents. Still other writers of kindred fiction who had their brief day of recognition and patronage have faded and disap- peared in the receding distance, to be followed perhaps by some who are still visible by reason of services they ren- der to the study of the history of their times by repro- ducing in a measure the men and manners of those times — which is the greatest value of all fiction and the surest warrant of its perpetuity. XXII EDGAR ALLAN POE In 1844 a poem appeared which commended itself to many readers by the mystery and sadness with which it was filled, combined with a certain grotesqueness of fancy and singularity of phrase which caught the popular ear and pleased the imagination. Its title came to be asso' ciated so intimately with the author that " Kaven " was often the next word after Poe. To this " Annabel Lee," " The Bells," " The Lost Lenore," were sometimes added, and other poems which, like the poet himself, seemed to belong to some outer world far from the practicality of every-day life and from the usual definiteness of American literature in the first third of the century. This period was just closing when John P. Kennedy did for Poe what Willis had done for Bayard Taylor in bringing a writer of promise before the public. Prom the start the young aspirant had met with both good and ill fortune. He was born in Boston, but his parents stayed there only to complete a theatrical engagement, wandering off on a southern circuit, and both dying within two years, leaving three children to the compassion of such friends as they might happen to find Edgar was fortunate again in being taken up by the wife of a well-to-do tradesman of Eichmond, himself generous in his treatment of the precocious lad, who soon became the petted show-piece of the family. This was 251 252 American Literature his second misfortune. Five years at an English school were followed by six more of preparation for the Univer- sity of Virginia in a school at home. In both he was active in athletics, a good boxer and swimmer, with but one rival in scholarship, prominent in debates and a versifier of repute, yet without intimate friends and in- clined as a spoiled boy to be imperious, capricious, and self-willed. At the university in those days the pursuit of knowledge was relieved by punch and card-playing for money. His good fortune he managed to turn into evil by contracting gambling debts to the amount of about twenty-five hundred dollars, which Mr. Allan, his foster- father, declined to pay, and taking the wayward youth home at the end of the year placed him in his counting- room, from which Edgar broke loose and went to Boston. He took with him as capital with which to begin life once more in that city at the age of eighteen a bundle First ^^ poems which he persuaded another young Ventures. ^^^^ ^^ print in a thin volume of forty pages, entitled " Tamerlane and Other Poems, by a Bostonian." At that time it is not probable that his asserted citizen- ship would have been honored by the ruling caste on the strength of his residence in the city during six months of infancy seventeen years before. His credentials lacked proper indorsement. As for " Tamerlane," it won the author nothing beyond notice of its receipt by the reviews and mention in " Ketell's Specimens of American Poetry." Durmg two years in the army and six months at West Point other poems, including a revision of "Tamerlane," were composed, to be published in 1831 in New York. Among these were « Helen," « The Doomed City," " The Sleeper," " Lenore," and " The Valley of Unrest," not all Edgar Allan Poe 253 of them as they now appear, but a long stride ahead of his Boston book. The forthcoming power of his weird imagination and the enchantment of his unique diction begin to show themselves. He might truly say : " I have reached these lands but newly From an ultimate dim Thule — From a wild, weird clime that Heth sublime Out of space — out of time." And he suggests rather than describes — " Bottomless vales and boundless floods, And chasms and caves and Titan woods, With forms that no man can discover For the dews that drip all over ; Mountains toppling evermore Into seas without a shore — Seas that restlessly aspire. Surging unto skies of fire — Lakes that endlessly outspread Their lone waters — lone and dead." This is the dreamland, ghoul-haunted and demon- peopled, where his sad eye wanders, seeing shapes and visions which come only to one who is afflicted at times with intellectual delirium tremens. Then, again, he would catch glimpses of seraphic splendor and soar to the zenith in his song of " Israfel " : " In heaven a spirit doth dwell Whose heart strings are a lute ; None sings so wildly well As the angel Israfel, And the giddy stars (so legends tell), Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell Of his voice, all mute." Then he feels the dragging of the earthly ball and chain, and descends to this : 254 American Literature " If I could dwell Where Israfel Hath dwelt, and he where I, He might not sing so wildly well A mortal melody, While a bolder note than this might swell From my lyre within the sky.'* The verse is the type of the poet himself, in whom aspiration was always contending with limitation in bittet strife, like Ormuzd and Ahriman, the good angel and the bad of the Persian myth. And sometimes it must have seemed to him like the single-handed warfare of Michael the archangel against the dragon and his angels, as sug- gested in the verses on " Silence " : " There are some qualities — some incorporate things, That have a double life, which thus is made A type of that twin entity which springs From matter and light, evinced in solid and shade. There is a twofold Silence — sea and shore — Body and soul. One dwells in lonely places Newly with grass o'ergrown ; some solemn graces, Some human memories and tearful lore. Render him terrorless : his name 's ' No More.' He is corporate Silence : dread him not ! No power hath he of evil in himself ; But should some urgent fate (untimely lot) I Bring thee to meet his shadow (nameless elf That haunteth the lone regions where hath trod No foot of man), commend thyself to God ! " Poe's best verse is too familiar to need more than the mention already made of it. Two short poems, however, should be added as an expression of what was best in him — loyalty to home virtues. The first is the antithesis of " Annabel Lee " : Edgar Allan Poe 255 " I dwelt alone In a world of moan And my soul was a stagnant tide, Till the fair and gentle Eulalie became my blushing bride — Till the yellow-haired young Eulalie became my smiling bride. " Ah, less — less bright The stars of night Than the eyes of the radiant girl ! And never a flake That the vapor can make With the moon- tints of purple and pearl Can vie with the modest Eulalie's most unregarded curl Can compare with the bright-eyed Eulalie's most humble and careless curl. ** Now Doubt — now Pain Come never again, For her soul gives me sigh for sigh And all the day long Shines bright and strong, Astarte within the sky, While ever to her dear Eulalie upturns her matron eye — While ever to her young Eulalie upturns her violet eye." And all mothers-in-law should have a kindly thought for the man who wrote, " To my Mother " : *' Because I feel that, in the Heaven above, The angels whispering to one another. Can find, among their burning terms of love, None so devotional as that of ' Mother,' Therefore by that dear name I long have called you — You who are more than mother unto me, And fill my heart of hearts, where Death installed you. In setting my Virginia's spirit free. My mother — my own mother who died early, Was but the mother of myself; but you Are mother to the one I loved so dearly, And thus are dearer than the mother I knew By that infinity with which my wife Was dearer to my soul than its soul-life." '2.^6 American Literature The temptation will always arise to join the party of accusers or of apologists so soon as the element of his per- sonal life mingles with the literature which an Inheritances. author has created. How far the balance will list to one side or the other depends in such a case as this upon belief in heredity on the one hand, and on the other upon confidence in the ability of the inheritor of evil bent and bias to straighten the grain as he grows up and lives on. If, however, a moral weakness to resist be added to strong appetite in the inheritance, it would seem that the child should have large allowances made for an almost inevitable wreck. Perhaps in Poe's instance the lapses into inebriety were not so culpable as the seeming perversity with which he threw away those opportunities and ad- vantages which would have gone far to retrieve a false start in life, for which he was no more responsible than for the good fortune of being born in Boston. Indeed throughout his checkered career he displayed remarkable facility for snubbing main chances. If he discovered opportunity sometimes passing in disguise, he often lacked instant decision to seize it, or at least to hold it until it took him to another. Judicious training in boyhood might have taken some puzzling curves out of him. Nevertheless he contrived to live by his pen for seventeen years. It is the work of that period more than his manner of life that is of present concern. His successes began in Baltimore with winning a prize of one hundred dollars offered by a weekly paper for the Litera ^®^^ prose tale. This was accompanied by a Career. poem which wouM havB taken another prize if two premiums had been allowed to go to one author. The recommendation of the committee of award that he should Edgar Allan Poe 257 print such stories as lie had on hand was a compensation, and gave him an encouraging start with the paper above mentioned. Magazine editorship soon followed, with an apprenticeship in story-writing, in which his predilection for the gruesome and the mysterious and the melodramatic is revealed in crude colors. Kennedy, who stood literary sponsor for him, wrote: "This young fellow is highly imaginative and a little given to the terrific," but his letter of recommendation helped Poe to secure a place as assistant editor of the "Southern Literary Messenger," published at Eichmond. This in turn furnished a medium for introducing to the public his theory of poetry and fresh examples of it, and also of his prose-writing. Any supposition that his com- positions were gloomy or mystical because he himself was in a chronic state of depression is corrected by his own statement that pleasure is the object of verse, and that the pleasure must be subtile and its undertone melancholy as the resultant chord of all human experiences. His first venture in journalism was getting to be fairly prosperous and full of promise for the future when one or another of his evil genii interrupted his de- p^.^^^ votion to it, and he threw away a most import- '^*^*^' ant opportunity in that it was his first one. Had he kept on with this enterprise as he began, everything in the way of the periodical literature of the time would have been open to him. Instead, he abandoned the " Messenger " and Eichmond for Philadelphia and irregular contributions to this paper and that. " Ligeia," " The Haunted Palace," " The Fall of the House of Usher," some " Literary Small Talk " and book notices, with a text-book on Conchology, belong to this period. By this time, however, his stories 17 258 American Literature amounted to twenty-five in number, and were published as his first instalment of prose. The same characteristics are prominent as in his verse, and even more pronoimced. He deals with the realm of the improbable bordering on the impossible. To this he sometimes gives the appear- ance of likelihood by attempts to account for his invented occurrences on scientific principles. He also employs a direct and explicit style, in itself carrying an impression of truth. But it is only to give reality to shadows and the similitude of fact to that which in the nature of things could not be. His fiction is so much stranger than truth that the marvellous invention is more surprising than if the story had been true; just as an artistic liar's men- dacity is half admired in the splendor of his achievement in falsehood. Yet the frequent charge that he invented marvels in order to explain them is not always a fair supposition, since he delighted in unravelling actual com- plications. The pains he took to decipher cryptograms which were sent him in reply to his statement that none were so abstruse that they could not be read, indicates the singular bent of his mind toward the occult. As in his verse, the titles of his prose tales are full of dark sugges- tion and the fascination that goes with it. " The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar," " Mesmeric Eevelation," " The Black Cat," " The Pit and the Pendulum," "The Fall of the House of Usher," " The Premature Burial," " The Masque of the Red Death," "The Murders in the Rue Morgue," " The Mystery of Marie Roget " — all these and others like them are suggestive of enigmas, disasters, and crimes. They are dark-complexioned themes, shadowy with twilight forms gliding on unholy errands. They give glimpses of an outer limbo where the inhabitants of Edgar Allan Poe 259 another world hover on the borders of this with fell intent or sad reminiscence. The stories themselves fulfil the promise of their titles. They reek with horrors. Delusions that prove fatal, remorse that follows involuntary crime, ^heir ghoui- tombs that are prisons, vaults for those who ^^ character, cannot die, low-hanging clouds, starless gloom, trees sway- ing in windless air, cold, slimy walls, vermin-haunted dungeons, despair and death — these are the lurid points in a symphony of black and red. Sometimes, as in " The Domain of Arnheim," there is lavished a profusion of oriental color — melodies, odors, shrubberies, birds, flowers, silver streams, pinnacles, and minarets flashing in red sun- light, the phantom architecture of fairies. But oftener the tone of the picture is like this : " From that chamber and from that mansion I fled aghast. The storm was still abroad in all its wrath as I found myself crossing the old causeway. Suddenly there shot along the path a wild light. The radiance was that of the full, setting, and blood-red moon. There came a fierce breath of the whirl- wind; my brain reeled as I saw the mighty walls rushing asunder ; there was a long, tumultuous shouting sound like the voice of a thousand waters, and the deep and dark tarn at my feet closed sullenly and silently over the fragments of the House of Usher." And this : "It was then, however, that Prince Prospero, maddening with rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the six chambers, while none followed him on account of a deadly terror that had seized upon all. He bore aloft a drawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid im- petuosity, to within three or four feet of the retreating figure, when the latter, having attained the extremity of the velvet 26o American Literature apartment, turned suddenly and confronted his pursuer. There was a sharp cry — and the dagger dropped gleaming upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell prostrate in death the Prince Prospero. Then summoning the wild courage of despair, a throng of revellers at once threw themselves into the black apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in unutterable horror at finding the grave cere- ments and corpse-like mask which they handled with so violent a rudeness, untenanted by any tangible form. " And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripod expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all." The same might be said of the most of Poe's " Tales." Poe has had numerous imitators, especially in the line of the detective story, who have shown at least how dan- gerous it is to walk the narrow way which he chose to tread, keeping himself by careful steps from toppling over into the depths of ludicrous bathos. Such followers have not been born to be mystics, alchemists, and jugglers in the black art like Poe, in whose mind, as in the seven chambers of his Prospero's castellated abbey, there stalked a multitude of weird dreams in the carnival of the " Red Death." But if one wishes now and then to get far out of the highways of literature into the land which lies next to the unseen and the unknown, whither only one or two in a century have gone and returned with even a plausible account of what they have seen, then this gloomy, way- ward, but second-sighted spirit will be the most satisfac- tory guide. Edgar Allan Poe 261 No man has been so diversely understood, and there- fore abused and lauded by turns. Almost everything has been charged upon him except immorality and unkindness to his family. Possibly if his biography had never been written, especially by Rufus Griswold, and his works published without comment, they would now be rated more nearly for what they are worth. Above all, if his slashing criticisms of contemporaries had never been printed, the opinion of him which his fellow authors naturally formed would have been more just, for it was as a critic that he was most notorious in his time. In the scarcity of home-born judges, and in the hatred of foreign censorship upon the early writers of the century, Poe himself saw that there was a vacancy to be filled and believed that he was the man to fill it. Aside from a cer- tain bitterness acquired with what he was pleased to con- sider his hard luck in life, his teachers in criticism were of the British swashbuckler school of a hundred years ago, of whom only an occasional imitator can be found at the present day. But in Poe's time the later and better mode had not appeared. Accordingly he set up one and put down another, following his own likes and dislikes. Bryant was declared to be a genius, Longfellow without originality. His soul revolts at any depreciation of Bay- ard Taylor's poems, but he says that Cooper is remarkably inaccurate as a general rule. Commending Hawthorne in essentials, he thinks that his " monotone " will deprive him of popular appreciation, and that William Ellery Channing has been inoculated with virus from Tennyson and Carlyle. Those sometime neighbors of his, the ** Lit- erati of New York," some of them his benefactors, are served freely with his opinions about themselves. Willis, 262 American Literature who did him many good turns, is told that, whatever may be thought about his talents, he has made a good deal of noise in the world ; that he has failed as an essayist, and has by no means the readiness which the editing of a newspaper demands, and that vacillation is the leading trait of his character — as, the critic ought to have added, ingratitude is of mine. If he could say these things of one who had found a place for him in the days when he was wandering from magazine to journal and from news- paper offices to the street, what might not be expected to fall on those who had placed him under no obligations to themselves ? That depended upon his caprice, and this in turn upon his spirits, and these again upon circumstances over which he is said to have had no control, and with which an outline of his literary career has little to do, if the final product was not affected. It is this sum of his work in poems, stories and criticism, that has a value of its own for those who will appropriate it without too much consideration of what one and another assert for or against one of the ablest and most original of American authors. It is time to estimate him by his works alone. In the volume which contains his critiques it is inter- esting to note the list of authors who were deemed worthy of his notice, and how few of them are now contempo- amoug the number with which a well-read rary Fame. person is expected to be familiar. After giving his opinion of a few English writers, including Mrs. Brown- ing, Macaulay, and Dickens, he soon takes up Bryant, Hawthorne, and Bayard Taylor, but in their company are Eufus Dawes, William Lord, Henry B. Hirst, Kobert Walsh, and others of equal promise in their day. Not far from Lowell and Longfellow are the names of Margaret Edgar Allan Poe 263 Fuller, Lucretia Davidson, William Wallace, Estelle Anna Lewis, and Francis Osgood. Then the " Literati of New York" who were considered as sufficiently eminent to deserve his strictures — what other chance of future celeb- rity did some of them have ? George Bush, Ralph Hoyt, Freman Hunt, Anna Cora Mowatt, Laughton Osborn, Ann S. Stephens, Eichard A. Locke and a dozen and a half more. Of them all Willis, Halleck, and Margaret Fuller are the best known after threescore years. It is a com- ment on the value of contemporary criticism, at least by a single critic, that Poe had no sure word of prophecy for the survivors of a group which has passed into oblivion. Hawthorne did not much outshine Amelia Welby, nor Longfellow Stella Lewis in Poe's pages, although his stars were apt to be of the feminine gender. And yet Poe was nothing if not critical, and was a leader in this branch of literature, in spite of his assertion that Mr. William A. Jones " is our most analytic, if not our best critic (Mr. Whipple, perhaps, excepted)." And of these two the last lingered longest. A question which suggests two answers is, whether the men and women who in their lifetime en- joyed the praise of contemporaries did not receive as great a portion of comfort as those who were appreciated no more then, but are now recognized as preeminent. Was George P. Morris less fortunate than Nathaniel Hawthorne, and Christopher Pease Cranch than Lowell, and Thomas Dunn English than Longfellow ? If not, let the hundred- thousand edition writers of to-day make hay while the sun shines, and before night and oblivion come, and pos- terity with its unforeseen standards of measurement. How is it, Milton ? Have you ever received more than the pittance of five pounds for " Paradise Lost *' ? And, 264 American Literature Shakespeare, was the competence you gained in London with some applause and some hisses all the comfort you have got out of manuscripts now missing ? And Spenser and Chaucer, Dante, Virgil, and Homer, what is the value to you of appreciation for generations ? Does it offset the abuse and neglect some of you received in your lifetime ? In fine, are you at all conscious, or all unconscious, of the praise of posterity and of your literary immortality ? xxni JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER It has been seen that literary activity centred in New York during the first third of the century, as it had pre- vailed in Philadelphia so long as this city was the metropolis of the land and capital of the New new nation. Meanwhile there was less enter- prise among New England writers. There was ability enough, as there had always been, but the well-worn chan- nels in which it had run were getting dry. Theological science is vast enough to occupy the human mind forever, but if it is narrowed to a few points like predestination and election it may become so deep that the perseverance of the saints cannot fathom its mysteries. After one hundred and seventy-five years of discussion there was little new to be said, and little interest or literature in the ceaseless repetition of the old arguments. Nothing but chaff and dust came of prolonged thrashing of the old straw. That there was little else to discuss was due to the inhospitality of New England toward outer-world books. Elizabethan and Queen Anne writers were as the sons of Belial in the eyes of those who sat in the receipt of cus- tom, and no large invoices of frivolous dramas or unsanc- tified essays or unorthodox sermons were landed in Salem or Boston previous to the adoption of the Constitution and 265 266 American Literature the beginning of our national life. Therefore the sceptre departed from this Israel and went southward to a more hospitable region, and imder its patronage an early harvest of literature followed, such as it was. At last, however, a revolt took place in Massachusetts, succeeding one which had sprung up in England long before, against a narrow and exclusive ecclesiasticism. Here it was helped on by a movement derived from a larger one abroad, consequent upon a time of general unrest and upheaval. German idealism, French com- munism, and English radicalism began to be heard of, and the alert New Englander became uneasy. The inde- pendent spirit which he had inherited from Pilgrim and Puritan had found its legitimate result in civil liberty and freedom from monarchy ; why should he not break with the ecclesiastical tyranny of the standing order, and with its practical prohibition of foreign literature ? The answer came to each part of this question almost simul- taneously. The Unitarian movement represented the reaction from the discipline and the bondage of a narrow system of divinity, and a new spirit in letters was a secondary and legitimate result. Before observing the effect of this reaction upon leaders in the new movement toward a larger and freer literature whittier's some attention should be paid to a New Eng- Antecedents laudcr wliosc antecedents did not bind him to Education. ^-^^ ^^^^ ^^^ j^^^ traditions of the elders. John Greenleaf Whittier as a Quaker had about as much in common with the Puritan as a Samaritan with a Jew. He believed in essential righteousness, but not in the He- brew criminal code for Englishmen's sons and daughters. Consequently he had nothing to revolt against which his John Greenleaf Whittier 267 forefathers had not been made to hate by the persecutions from the dominant class in former generations. The sense of narrow dogmatism which gradually dawned upon the more liberally inclined of the standing order was an old story to the descendants of Friends who had been hauled and whipped from town to town at the tail of a cart as the mildest of penalties for aspiring to the exclusive right of first settlers to worship God according to their con- science. He had no break to effect with the prevailing doctrinal sentiment. His ancestors were born opposing it and fared accordingly. And when at last the early springtime of a new literature came, the first bluebird note of it on the chilly eastern coast was the song of the Quaker poet in the valley of the Merrimac. It was not the outcry of a restless spirit struggling with convictions inbred from generation to generation, but a simple strain of melody, such as had been heard before at intervals from Theocritus to Burns. The Essex county boy, far from neighbors, but close to nature had been born with the rhyming gift, and with that other faculty which creates the poetry that is more than verse. The rhyme came first, to be sure, and with it the aspiration for some- thing better than the dull round of farm life, in his instance not to be gratified in the usual advantages of prolonged academic education. His was rather the school- ing of public libraries, the printing office, and later of the editorial chair — the place where so many of our early authors were obliged to earn the living which made their lighter labors possible. Whittier, however, was not so entirely a poet that he could not do yeoman service on a newspaper. His prac- tical interest in public affairs and politics was serviceable 268 American Literature to his party and to himself, placing him in the legislature of his native state and winning him successive positions of influence in one editorial office after another. Other serial publications than his own were open to his verse, and literary fame began to reward his early efiforts and betoken better things to come. The production of this newspaper period of his poetical composition was what might be expected from a farm-bred Early joujig man of northeastern Massachusetts. In Efforts. common with most American writers of that generation he believed that there was a wealth of Indian tradition which might be turned into the riches of Ameri- can verse. In the first complete collection of his poems Whittier placed the " Bridal of Pennacook " at the begin- ning, as if typifying his earliest poetic ambition, finding the legend on the banks of his own Merrimac, thus indicating that he would not go far afield for themes. Like Scott, and Irving afterward, he introduces the old- fashioned "chronicle of border wars" to give an air of credibility to a legend which might as well have been gathered from the landlord of the mountain inn as from the fourth book in his representative library of " Bunyan, Watts, and a file of almanacs." But this was a custom of the time. The apostrophe to the river which flowed unbridged and unobstructed from mountain to sea is in the truer manner of a dweller on its banks. So also is the description of lodge and wigwam, decorated with spoils of chase and war and of the chief's magic skill and the daughter's woodland freedom and love ; of the wed- ding feast to the river sagamores and the sachems from the crystal hills to the far southeast. The story of Indian pride, always greater than Indian love, carries with it the John Greenleaf Whittier 269 gloom which belongs to the forest pagan even in his days of peace. And in his hour of treachery and blood " Mogg Magone" shows how dark was the strife and dire the revenge and bitter the hate between the savage and the encroaching alien. " He laughs at his jest. Hush — what is there ? — The sleeping Indian is striving to rise, With his knife in his hand, and glaring eyes ! — * Wagh I — Mogg will have the pale-face's hair, For his knife is sharp and his fingers can help The hair to pull and the skin to peel — Let him cry like a woman and twist like an eel, The great Captain Scamman must lose his scalp I And Ruth when she sees it shall dance with Mogg.* His eyes are fixed — but his lips draw in — With a low, hoarse chuckle, and fiendish grin — And he sinks again, like a senseless dog. " Ruth starts erect — with bloodshot eye, And lips drawn tight across her teeth, Showing their locked embrace beneath, In the red fire-light : — ' Mogg must die ! Give me the knife ! * — The outlaw turns, Shuddering in heart and limb, away — But, fitfully there, the hearth-fire burns, And he sees on the wall strange shadows play, A lifted arm, a tremulous blade. Are dimly pictured in light and shade, Plunging down in the darkness. Hark, that cry ! Again — and again — he sees it fall — That shadowy arm down the lighted wall ! He hears quick footsteps — a shape flits by — The door on its rusted hinges creaks : — * Ruth — daughter Ruth ! ' the outlaw shrieks But no sound comes back — he is standing alone By the mangled corse of Mogg Magone ! '* So the " Legendary Poems " hint of a remote time when the Norseman touched upon this dreary coast and sailed 270 American Literature away, and of a later age when Puritan Endicott offered a Quaker maiden to any sea captain who would take her Legend in ^° Barbados to sell for "higher price than Verse. Indian girl or Moor." Then the poet turns to aboriginal story " around Sebago's lonely lake " or in more distant Acadia, where French and English contend for dominion, or to nearer Pentucket and the midnight raid of painted savages, or the daylight swoop of priest and sheriff upon Goodman Macey's cottage for the Quaker who had taken refuge from the coming storm. In all this the past of the country with which the poet was familiar is recalled and clothed with its traditions and its liistory. Not as prosy chronicler and annalist had depicted it for Englishmen at home or for posterity, but as fact and fancy were blended in the mind of the first New Englander who was lifted above the hard, restrained life of the eastern seaboard to discover and use the scant material for poetry which lay in its valleys and on its hillsides. This Whittier saw and made the most of it. To the citizen of the middle or southern, states it seemed unfertile and poor as the soil in Essex pastures, but to the youths who ranged over them and are now young in memory only, the verse of their native poet will always have the flavor of the sea, the river, and the moun- tains, as Bryant's will have of the woods and hills of Hampshire. This to the Merrimac — the river that flows through the region of his early song: " Stream of my fathers 1 sweetly still The sunset rays thy valley fill ; Poured slantwise down the long defile, Wave, wood and spire beneath them smile. John Greenleaf Whittier 271 The green hill in its belt of gold, And following down its wavy line, Its sparkling waters blend with thine. There 's not a tree upon thy side, Nor rock, which thy returning tide As yet hath left abrupt and stark Above thy evening water mark ; No calm cove with its rocky hem, No isle whose emerald swells begem Thy broad smooth current ; not a sail Bowed to the freshening ocean-gale ; No small boat with its busy oars, Nor gray wall sloping to thy shores ; No farm house with its maple shade, Or rigid poplar colonnade, But lies distinct and full in sight, Beneath this gush of sunset light." This legendary poetry and the ambition to develop whatever possibilities lay beneath a barren surface both received a check in the poet's manifest call to ..voices of enlist in the anti-slavery movement which was ^^««<*°™-" starting in 1833. Colonization in Liberia was its first outcome, with Henry Clay as president of the society having the enterprise in charge. But as this scheme pro- vided for freedmen only, it appeared to meet the rising issue but partially. The pamphlet which Whittier wrote is the prose statement of his views, but "Kandolph of Koanoke " was the beginning of his service in verse to the cause he had undertaken to champion, at the cost of everything to which he had aspired. From this time his pen was busy in writing " Voices of Freedom." The pecuniary unprofitableness of these was counterbalanced by the growing response they elicited from the North. Their titles in the next four years include "Toussaint L'Ouverture," " The Yankee Girl," « The Slave Mother's 272 American Literature Lamect," "Our Fellow Countrymen in Chains," "The Hunters of Men," " Song of the Free " and several not found among his collected poems. In them all the pur- pose of the poet is clear and strong, even if the per- formance is not always artistic. It was not a time when a reformer like Whittier could dally with art. A great battle was to be fought, and the devoted soldier could not always stop to burnish his weapons. It was enough for him if his shots raised a cheer : it was much the same to him if they called forth a howl of rage. Their very rough- ness made some of his verses appeal to the boys in blue as more correct measures and exact rhymes did not. In particular this was true of his verses in the war period. It matters not if the most popular of them is founded upon a newspaper report of doubtful authenticity, or that its movement is some- times forward and back, marching and halting like Stonewall's troops. It has in it the spirit of reverence for the country's flag in spite of temporary disloyalty, and also of honor for Barbara Frietchie's defiant patriotism. The poetic idea is there, and a ruling sentiment of the nation in sufficient abundance to furnish a drama to full houses night after night. Generation after generation of children will recite it as they run " Old Glory " up the flag-staff, and learn the lessons of loyalty to it in the partiotic literature of their country. Early in the war the note of forbearance and patience is apparent, as in his « Word for the Hour," and " The Watchers ; " faith is strong in "Astraea," and hope in " Mithridates," and charity in the " Anniversary Poem." But in them all is the purpose to help on the triumph of consistency in a nation professing to be free and the home of the world's John Greenleaf Whittier 273 oppressed. So earnest was he in these contributions of his to the strife that the thought was of more account than the word, and the meaning of his own verse than the form of it. The end of it all is declared in the lines to the flag at the capitol : ** I knew that truth would crush the lie, — Somehow, Sometime the end would be; Yet scarcely dared I hope to see The triumph with my mortal eye. " But now I see it ! In the sun A free flag floats from yonder dome, And at the nation's hearth and home The justice long delayed is done. ♦* Not as we hoped, in calm of prayer. The message of deliverance comes. But heralded by roll of drums On waves of battle-troubled air I — " Not as we hoped ; — but what are we ? Above our broken dreams and plans G-od lays, with wiser hand than man's The corner-stones of Hberty." The war over and the strain past, the poet turned toward the fields and memories of youth with greater leisure to do more finished work. He could poemsofthe now write without the stress of agitating re- Countryside, form upon him those poems in which the rural heart rejoices in country or city. Peace had not been six months declared when he began to write what he called "Snow-Bound: A Winter Idyl; A Homely Picture of Old New England Homes." Winter on the Massa- chusetts coast has had a few apologists and countless maligners; but none has more lovingly portrayed its warm side or more faithfully exhibited its bleak side, 18 274 American Literature giving to this also something of the softness and warmth of a snowdrift to a roystering, rod-cheeked boy and his frolicsome dog. Outside it is the carnival of the storm ; within it is the picture of comfort and safety beneath the chill and the depth of overwhelming snows. It is the war song of the New England farmer in conflict with his winter, with a strain of joy through it all and of victory at the end. Only a farmer's boy could have known what to write, and a true poet only could have set the snow scene in such verse. Side by side with ** Snow-Bound " should always be placed the summer marine view of "The Tent on the Beach." Good as he modestly thought the first, he hoped to make the second still better. The one brought him ten thousand dollars ; the other was sold at the rate of a thousand copies a day. His poetic ambition was more than gratified, and prosperity crowned his later years. But he had known the dull and heavy dreariness of farm life, which does not always give strength to those who, like the Libyan giant, keep in contact with the earth. In his prelude to the poem " Among the Hills " he brings out the real side of farming in contrgist to what idealism it may have in the poem itself, which he at first intended to make a companion idyl to " Snow-Bound " : " — I know- Too well the picture has another side, — How wearily the grind of toil goes on Where love is wanting, how the eye and ear And heart are starved amidst the plentitude Of nature, and how hard and colorless Is life without an atmosphere. I look Across the lapse of half a century, And call to mind old homesteads, where no flower Told that spring had come, but evil weeds, John Greenleaf Whittier 275 Nightshade and rough-leaved burdock in the place Of the sweet doorway greeting of the rose And honeysuckle, where house walls seemed Blistering in the sun, without a tree or vine To cast the tremulous shadow of its leaves Across the curtainless windows, from whose panes Fluttered the signal rags of shiftlessness. " And in sad keeping with all things about them, Shrill, querulous women, sour and sullen men, Untidy, loveless, old before their time, With scarce a human interest save their own Monotonous round of small economies, Or the poor scandal of the neighborhood. " Church goers, fearful of the unseen Powers, But grumbling over pulpit-tax and pew-rent, Saving, as shrewd economists, their souls And winter pork with the least possible outlay Of salt and sanctity ; in daily life Showing as little comprehension Of Christian charity and duty. As if the Sermon on the Mount had been Outdated like a last year's almanac. *' Not such should be the homesteads of a land Where whoso wisely wills and acts may dwell As king and lawgiver, in broad-acred state * With beauty, art, taste, culture, books, to make His hour of leisure richer than a life Of fourscore to the barons of old time." Whichever aspect of country life the poet delineates he will always find readers who have seen or heard enough about it to recognize the fidelity of his description, and to he pleased with what they could not have so truly done themselves. Consequently, he is the country people's poet more than any other, and the song-maker of all who love the country from one month to twelve, according to time and opportunity or even necessity. Fortimately, he 27^ American Literature wrote enough to last days and weeks, since poetry should be read in limited quantities to be best appreciated. The variety of his themes, and their treatment also, prevent the weariness of monotony ; mediocre performance some- times affording the relief of change from the greater strain and the surpassing excellence of his best achievement. But no one can read his poems in course or at random with- out knowing that early and late he was the tuneful voice of his province recalling its forest legends, uttering its protests for righteousness, and finally chanting its anthems of the sea and the storm, ending in the cadences of even- ing as his sun went down in peace, and with these words from « The Shadow and the Light " : " Shine on us with the light which glowed Upon the trance-bound shepherd's way. Who saw the darkness overflowed And drowned by tides of everlasting day." The man will always be remembered as even greater than his work, good and effective as that was in the cause of truth and humanity. Much that might be said of his sterling virtues and his true poetry may best be summed up in a stanza of Holmes's tribute to his com- panion gone : " Best loved and saintliest of our singing train, Earth's noblest tributes to thy name belong, A lifelong record closed without a stain, A blameless memory shrined in deathless song." XXIV HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW The poets mentioned in previous chapters who achieved distinction accomplished this by dealing with home topics and scenes. Even Poe's " No Man's Land " was j^^^^^^^^^^ within the jurisdiction of the United States, loirSsof although not put down on its maps or charts. ^°**''y- Bryant's song began in the western counties of Massa- chusetts, Whittier's on the Bay. The Green river ran through the verses of the first, the Merrimac through those of the other, and the New England atmosphere pervades both. In both was the development of domestic themes, in which the new country was supposed to be so rich that the poet and the novelist need never look elsewhere for raw material. By and by the suspicion arose that it was too raw. The utmost patriotism became tired of calling the goose a swan and the crow a raven and the whippoor- will a nightingale. The very insistence in doing this was a tribute to the foreign bird in each instance, and when popular taste began to get beyond juvenility and its own door yard it looked over the hills and across the sea toward the wealth of tradition and history out of which most of the world's poetry is coined. The man to meet this return of instinctive feeling, and to inspire it also, was a Portland graduate of Bowdoin College, a little farther down east. Yet his antecedents 277 278 American Literature were of the Bay, the maternal line running back to John Alden and Priscilla at Plymouth, his father and grand- Education father being graduates of Harvard. If the and Travel. ^^^^ missed anything in not following the family precedents in education, he doubtless made it up as professor in the university for seventeen years, to which he was called five years after leaving his alma mater, where he had served an apprenticeship for two years in a similar capacity. But his first post-collegiate study was in the greater schools of Europe, whither he went to prepare himself for the chair of modern languages at Bowdoin. Three years of residence and travel overflowed in " Outre-Mer," the first of his books not a translation. The title itself was significant of his mission to his countrymen. From beyond the sea he was to bring them the treasures of old world story and song, but first he would tell them how the for- eign towns and cities, mountains and rivers, castles and abbeys, towers and spires looked to an American youth whose head was already well stocked with their lore > and legends. Irving's example and " Sketch Book " were be- fore him, as he frankly confesses at Gottingen in 1829 : "I am writing a kind of 'Sketch Book' of scenes in France, Spain, and Italy." The "Conquest of Granada" and the " Alhambra " are recalled as one reads : " The burnished armor of the Cid stands in the archives of the royal museum at Madrid, and there, too, is seen the armor of Ferdinand and Isabel, of Guzman the Good and Gonzalo de Cordova ; but what hand shall now wield the sword of Campea- dor or lift up the banner of Leon and Castile 1 The ruins of Christian castle and Moorish alcazar still look forth from the hills of Spain ; but where is the spirit of freedom that once fired the children of the Goth 1 Shall it never beat high again in the Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 279 hearts of their degenerate sons ? Shall the descendants of Pelayo bow forever beneath an iron yoke, like cattle whose despair is dumbl" France suggests many observations, but in his chapter on the Trouvferes and the literature of song in the olden time the youthful poet is revelling in the sources whence he will draw both material and inspiration in the years to come. Kome and the Italian cities roused the same spirit of re- flection upon their stratified history in 1827 as they will this year and always, but the story of it was fresher to Americans three-quarters of a century ago than it is to-day. Comparatively few of his countrymen had made the Conti- nental pilgrimage, and the poet felt himself commissioned to bring out of Europe all that he could carry to America. It is significant of his comprehensive purpose to introduce a wider culture for his fellow citizens that a translation of a French grammar was the first fruit of his stay abroad, to be followed by a version of a Spanish play. And then came the journal of his tour in the book already mentioned, published in parts in 1833-1834 and in two volumes the following year. " Hyperion " appeared five years later, a romance version of his wanderings, gathering up the fancies which do not so well adjust themselves to a notebook as to a love story, especially if the principal characters be the author himself and his future wife. It is the harvest of travel in Germany and Switzerland, as " Outre-Mer " had been of loiterings along the Mediterranean shore. Ehine legends and Alpine scenery alternate with songs of river and mountain, vintage time and university hall, inter- spersed with bits of philosophy, criticism, biography, and history. The chapter on Goethe, but just dead, must have turned students toward the " many-sided master mind of 2 8o American Literature Germany," and have given a fresh impulse to studies in a literature which a few American scholars like Bancroft and Everett were opening to their countrymen. " * Your English critics may rail as they list/ said the Baron, * hut after all, Goethe was a magnificent old fellow. Only think of his life; his youth of passion, alternately aspiring and de- sponding, stormy, impetuous, headlong; — his romantic man- hood, in which passion assumes the form of strength ; assiduous, careful, toiling, without haste, without rest ; — and his sublime old age, — the age of serene and classic repose, where he stands like Atlas, as Claudian has painted him in the Battle of the Giants, holding the world aloft upon his head, the ocean-streams hard frozen in his hoary locks.' *' 'A good illustration of what the world calls his indifferentism.* *' *And do you know I rather like this indifferentism ? Did you never have the misfortune to live in a community, where a diffi- culty in a parish seemed to announce the end of the world ? or to know one of the benefactors of the human race in the very *' storm and pressure " period of his indiscreet enthusiasm 1 If you have, I think you will see something beautiful in the calm and dignified attitude which the old philosopher assumes.* " * It is a pity that his admirers had not a little of this philo- sophic coolness. It amuses me to read the various epithets which they apply to him.' " ' His enemies rush to the other extreme, and hurl at him the fierce names of Old Humbug ! and Old Heathen !'.... "* Well, call him what you please ; I maintain, that, with all his errors and shortcomings, he was a glorious specimen of a man.' " ' He certainly was. Did it ever occur to you that he was in some points like Ben Eranklin, — a kind of rhymed Ben Franklin] The practical tendency of his mind was the same; his benignant, philosophic spirit was the same; and a vast number of his little poetic maxims and soothsayings seem nothing more than the worldly wisdom of Poor Richard, versified.* " * What most offends me is, that now every German jackass must have a kick at the dead Uon. ' " Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 281 Longfellow's first volume of poems was published in the same year, 1839. He called it " Voices of the Night," perhaps with a young man's paradoxical inclination toward sombre reflection. Possibly it was a trace of the Puritan gloom which delighted in the shadows of Dr. Young's " Night Thoughts," — for the Cambridge poet was not one to obtrude a personal sorrow into his verse at the age of thirty-two. Whatever was the reason for the title, the " Hymn to Night " and the " Midnight Mass of the Dying Year " and the " Light of Stars " are not songs of the day. Even the " Beleaguered City," with its moral of the dawn, is chilly and damp with spectral mists, put to flight not by the rising sun, but the cathedral bell. He is not yet free from the solemnity of the " Earlier Poems " of fifteen years before, when Bryant's sober and solemn mood had acknowl- edged attraction for him as he wrote " Autumn " and the " Woods in Winter." With " Ballads and Other Poems," published in 1841, a new spirit is apparent. "The Skeleton in Armor" bristles with the spears of Viking ancestors, and is linked to ages which were prehistoric on the American coast. In this, as in his translation of " Eridthofs Saga " and " Study of Anglo-Saxon," he directed contemporaries to a Scandi- navian mythology which rivals that of southern Europe and the ancients, and has special interest for the descendants of the Norsemen. Incidentally he showed that his culture was wide as the literature of Europe could make it. This he was glad to introduce to the children of those who had pushed the dominion of the Gothic race across the Atlantic. He called their attention to the rude and strong elements of a primitive faith and a primeval verse, to myth and edda, saga and song of scald. 282 American Literature His inherited love of the sea, fostered by a boyhood on the Maine coast, appears here and there in poems like "The Wreck of the Hesperus" on the reef v/ZiT ' of Norman's Woe, " The Bird and the Ship," Poems. ^ " The Buildmg of the Ship," « Sir Humphrey Gilbert," " The Lighthouse," and the rest of the group "By the Seaside." Still it is apparent that he did not delight in storm and wreck and the tragedies of the ocean ; neither in battle and war nor any kind of strife. He was a poet of peace and of the home virtues and the heart's affections. The patient endeavor of the " Psalm of Life," the youthful aspiration of " Excelsior," the resignation of the " Eainy Day," the immortal hope of " God's Acre," are all simple in theme and unambitious in treatment, yet they have been as the voice of their own hearts to thousands who read poetry for what it is worth to them in sentiment rather than in high art or mystic suggestion. The day has not yet arrived when a poet to be great and famous must write in a diction that needs a neighborhood club to interpret his Orphic lines. And yet there was no affected simpleness in this poet's simplicity, no insipid flatness into which Wordsworth sometimes descended in his zeal for a new poetic theory. Longfellow's own idea of a poet's mission is stated in the " Belfry of Bruges," whose old-world suggestions are like cathedral chimes in the traveller's memory, illustrat- ing also the author's favorite manner of bringing a homely truth to the minds of his readers through foreign legend or picture. In this instance he compares the rhymes of the poet to the stricken hours at night falling unnoticed on the drowsy ears of the multitude, on roofs and stones of cities. Only here and there some sleepless wight may Henry Wads worth Longfellow 283 listen to the melody, till he hears thoughts long cherished intermingled with the song. But the song itself is : *' In Bruges, at the Fleur-de-Ble, Listening with a wild dehght, To the chimes that through the night Rang their changes from the belfry Of that quaint old Flemish city, ** As the evening shades descended, Low and loud and sweetly blended, Low at times and loud at times, And changing like a poet's rhymes, Rang the beautiful wild chimes, From the belfry in the market Of the ancient town of Bruges." In " Nuremberg " he finds " memoirs of the middle ages and a wondrous world of art," but the lesson he hrings from the city of Dlirer and Hans Sachs, the cobbler-bard, is "the nobility of labor, — the long pedigree of toil." And in the " Norman Baron," dying in his turreted castle, the one redeeming feature of a life of greed and wrong was the freeing of his serfs. The time came when, with the rest of New England poets, he raised his voice against slaveholding in a country professing to be free ; but the protest was in his own pacific manner and not in philippic strain of Whittier or the derisive reasoning of Lowell. And therein he kept his own individuality, and that quality which made him the best loved of all our poets. This may not be the highest ambition, or be accompanied by the greatest achievement, but perhaps it is the reward which he himself would most earnestly have coveted and of which even in his lifetime he had a foretaste in tributes of affection from old and young. 284 American Literature This kindly endearment of all classes in two countries the poem of " Evangeline " did more than any other single one to win and augment. It mattered not that poetical "Evange- justice had to throw the burden of reproach line." upon the English, where it did not belong, as Parkman has shown in his "Montcalm and Wolfe," instead of upon the priests, who stirred up the people to a con- tinual dispute of the fortunes of war and conquest, until deportation became a necessity of good government. De- spite this circumstance, the poet turned English and Amer- ican sympathy to the French side by enlisting that love which all the world has for a lover, particularly when it happens to be such a sweet and saintly maiden as the daughter of Benedict Bellefontaine, or so valiant a youth as Gabriel Lajeunesse, the son of Basil the blacksmith. From the start all human interest is with the separated lovers in the long search of one for the other — a tale of unrest and wandering, of hope deferred and of a deathbed meeting at last, aud the slumber side by side in their nameless graves. It was the floodtide of a humanism that had been growing in our literature, first in the verse of sentimental strain and then in romantic. But this was a welling up of genuine sympathy for the betrothed torn asunder by the fate of war ; and the volume and extent of compassionate sorrow was as the mighty tides of Fundy spreading over the basin of Minas close by the acres of Grand Prd. All classes of readers follow the sad quest of love, and become Acadian peasants and pilgrims for the time; and hundreds are every summer making their pilgrimages to see the place which, it is said, the poet himself had not seen when he wrote : Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 285 " Still stands the forest primeval ; but under the shade of its branches Dwells another race, with other customs and language. Only along the shore of the mournful and mighty Atlantic Linger a few Acadian peasants, whose fathers from exile Wandered back to their native land to die in its bosom. In the fisherman's cot the wheel and the loom are still busy, Maidens still wear their Norman caps and their kirtles of homespun, And by the evening fire repeat Evangeline's story, While from its rocky caverns the deep-voiced neighboring ocean Speaks, and in accents disconsolate answers the wail of the forest.'* Eeaders also become humanists with Longfellow and friends of the poet who had touched fountains where others had only stirred the surface of the pool. In Amer- ica and in England he became " the writer of * Evange- line'" by distinction; and it was this idyl that led strangers to find the same humane elements in his minor productions and to love him as the expositor of hearth and home virtues and affection. It was an international poem in plot and scene, Homeric in measure and world- wide in sympathy. The author was by no means the maker of a single poem, since few have written more than he, but none have been so identified with their best. Next to this poem " The Song of Hiawatha " commends itself to American readers as the most agreeable repro- duction of the aboriginal sources of our verse. " Hiawatha." The Indian in literature has generally taken the hue of the writer's imagination. He has been por- trayed with inks of as many colors as his own war paint, red and blue and black. If, however, a cheerful dye could be found, Longfellow would be sure to dip his Indian in it. Accordingly the light that pervades the poem, or is best recalled, is that of the setting sun cast over a depart- 2 86 American Literature ing race. Down into this " long track and trail of splendor, into the purple mists of evening," the prophet and prince vanishes at last amidst the sad farewells of his people. But not until he had a vision of the nations forgetful of his coimsels and warring with each other, scattered and swept westward, like the withered leaves of autumn. The whole poem is the swan song of a vanishing race, recounting its golden age of pristine happiness, its later decline, and finally the coming of an alien people " from the regions of the morning," followed by the crowding nations of many tongues. None better than our poet of all humanity could have sung this song so truly as to cherish the little sentiment that a conquering race can keep for the conquered. It was in accord with his own benignant holding, that " were half the wealth bestowed on camps and courts given to redeem the mind from error, there were no need of forts and arsenals." The song of the invader was sung in " The Courtship of Miles Standish," which might have been entitled, the loves of John Alden and Priscilla and the redoubtable doings of the Pilgrim Julius Csesar among the savages. It was the epos of the first encounter, to be drawn out into an epic of conquest in verse and prose, whose last book was " Hiawatha." Its scenes are laid on the waterways from the Atlantic to the last of the great lakes, and from Plymouth to the Kocky Mountains. But the story begins in the Plymouth hamlet from which the " Mayflower " sailed away in the spring of 1621, and by the timber huts and the meeting-house and the spinning-wheel of Priscilla. In it also is the same touch of humanity that makes all in love with lovers once more, and with the poet of whose kindly heart they are the creation. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 287 Everywhere genial sunshine illumines his pages, even though the record be as a black letter chronicle of want and death in the Pilgrim settlement, or of exile and dis- tress, as in Acadia, or of a dispersed people in the far northwest. And if this be true in the sadder phases of life, how much more in the glad experiences which he has filled with light and joy. For this reason, whatever position and rank as a bard in the present or future he may or may not hold, he will always be the best beloved of our American poets. His own words in the " Dedication " were prophetic of the affection which still flows toward him from all lands : "As one who, walking in the twiHght gloom. Hears round about him voices as it darkens, And seeing not the forms from which they come, Pauses from time to time, and turns and harkens ; " So walking here in twilight, my friends ! I hear your voices softened by the distance, And pause, and turn to listen, as each sends His words of friendship, comfort, and assistance. *' If any thought of mine, or sung or told, Has ever given delight or consolation, Ye have repaid me back a thousand fold. By every friendly sign and salutation. " Not chance of birth or place has made us friends, Being ofttimes of diflferent tongues and nations. But the endeavor for seKsame ends. With the same hopes, and fears, and aspirations. " Therefore I hope, as no unwelcome guest. At your warm fireside, when the lamps are lighted, To have my place reserved among the rest. Nor stand as one unsought and uninvited ! " XXV . RALPH WALDO EMERSON A LIBERAL spirit which began to assert itself about the middle of the eighteenth century took definite form early indepen- ^ ^^® nineteenth, with William EUery Chan- dency. Tiuig as Its exponeut. Emerson was following the latest pattern of theology, when the protesting habit of eight generations of clerical ancestors drove him to break with all ecclesiastical restraint and direction, and to become an independent such as had not been seen in New England. He was the legitimate product of two cen- turies of corporate individualism. The feature of it which shocked people was that the individual should shake him- self clear of the corporation and assert his personal in- dependence. If he had carried a small congregation with him, having a few articles of agreement and belief in common, he would have simply been following numerous precedents. But he chose to stand alone and apart and take the consequences. All this is interesting here only as related to the character of the contributions which he made to Kterature. These were by no means few nor imimportant. Another factor to be reckoned with is the general fer- ment of the time in which Emerson began his work. Restlessness * I^eactiou agalust a materialistic view of life of the Time. ,^^^ ^^^ surroundiugs had started in Germany and passed through England to America. Prophets of 288 Ralph Waldo Emerson 289 tlie ideal were making themselves heard. Coleridge and Carlyle, stirred by Goethe, were sending forth oracular sayings, which, if not always comprehended, set others thinking. The call was for higher thoughts of man and clearer views of nature and the intimate relation of the one to the other. Of this restatement of an old doctrine Emerson, in full sympathy with it, became the interpreter and expositor to his neighbors and fellow citizens of New England and the country at large. He began upon the lyceum lecture platform in the days when it was a sort of university extension movement with the first minds of the nation in its employ. The Popular Information was not of so much account as ^*^*""- inspiration. A race that had inherited the hearing ear through two centuries of sermonizing, and the imder- standing mind by discussing sharp points of doctrine at home was both fed and entertained by the half -ethical, half-secular discourse which wa^ poured out every week through the winter in the cities and larger towns. The best thought of the time was furnished at the lowest price to each hearer. Moreover, people could afford to listen to speculations from the week-day platform which would not have been tolerated in the Sunday pulpit. If the speaker were only attractive, the audience and the lecture committee would take the risk of unorthodoxy in religion and politics. Emerson, as a pleasing lecturer, had no lack of oppor- tunities to deliver his message all over the land. It was the form in which he first published it, his books being made up of what he had tested by oral speech to the people. He learned the value of this utterance and that by the response it got from the assembled intelligence 19 290 American Literature before him. He knew what to keep and what to reject when he came to print. At length in 1836, he gathered up the residuum of his lecture thoughts in his first book which he called " Nature." In a sense it may be regarded as the declaration of his belief by a man who discarded creeds. The articles of it were neither many nor distinct, but the statement of them was reiterated and varied and emphasized. It opens with depreciation of the traditionary poetry, philosophy, and re- ligion and an appeal for insight and an immediate revela- tion and " our own works and laws and worship." " The universe is composed of nature and the soul, of me and the not me. Through me, if I am in childlike sympathy with nature, the currents of universal being flow ; I am part or parcel of God. I am not alone and unacknowledged. The grasses of the field nod to me, the boughs wave in the storm. The resulting de- light proceeds from the harmony between man and nature, which always wears the colors of the spirit." And again : " Whoever considers the final cause of the world, will discern a multitude of uses that enter as parts into that result. They all admit of being thrown into one of the following classes: Commodity ; Beauty ; Language ; and Discipline." Under these captions he expands his subject. It is ior teresting to note his remarks about language and words as the symbols of thoughts. " A man's power to connect his thought with its proper sym- bol, and so to utter it, depends upon the simplicity of his charac- ter, that is, upon his love of truth, and his desire to communicate it without loss. The corruption of man is followed by corrup- tion of language. Where simplicity of character and the sov- ereignty of ideas is broken up by the prevalence of secondary Ralph Waldo Emerson 291 desires — the desire of riches, of pleasure, of power, and of praise — and duplicity and falsehood take the place of simplicity and truth, the power over nature as an interpreter of the will is lost ; new imagery ceases to be created, and old words are per- verted to stand for things which are not ; a paper currency is employed, when there is no bullion in the vaults. Hundreds of writers may be found in every long-civilized nation, who for a short time believe, and make others believe, that they see and utter truths, who do not of themselves clothe one thought in its natural garment, but who feed unconsciously on the language created by the primary writers of the country, those, namely, who hold primarily on nature. " But wise men pierce this rotten diction and fasten words again to visible things; so that picturesque language is at once a commanding certificate that he who employs it, is a man in alliance with truth and God. . . . ** Amidst agitation and terror in national councils, — in the hour of revolution, — these solemn images shall reappear in their morning lustre, as fit symbols and words of the thoughts which passing events shall awaken. At the call of a noble sen- timent, again the woods wave, the pines murmur, the river rolls and shines, and the cattle low upon the mountains as he heard them in his infancy. And with these forms, the spells of per- suasion, the keys of power are put into his hands." The essays which follow this first statement of his central proposition are amplifications and restatements of it. Of the beauty of nature he says : " Give ^ater me health and a day and I will make the ^^**y^- pomp of emperors ridiculous. The dawn is my Assyria, the sunset and moonrise my Paphos and unimaginable realms of faerie, broad noon shall be my England of the senses and the understanding, the night shall be my Gerinany of mystic philosophy and dreams." A little later he comes to the idealism which underlies his some- 292 American Literature what mystical discourse, and asks " whether nature out- wardly exists," or is the human mind the receiver of certain " sensations which we call sun and moon, man and woman, house and trade ? Be nature what it may be, it is ideal to me so long as I cannot try the accuracy of my senses." His restatement of an old philosophic dogma had at least the fascination of a new phrasing, although its practical tests are apt to loosen its hold on common minds when they try to call fire and water appearances instead of realities. But the sage has his word of protest against burlesque conclusions, and insists that the question of the absobite existence of nature still remains open, and if reason be stimulated to more earnest vision, the surface of things will become transparent and their causes and spirits be seen through them. This dualism of nature he then proceeds to explain and illustrate by the tendency of motion, poetry, science, and religion to affect our convic- tions of the reality of the external world. He concludes by adding that " the advantage of the ideal theory over the popular faith is, that it presents the world in precisely that view which is most desirable to the mind," to be accepted as it is found, unquestioningly and as a part of the lesson we are here to learn. Supplementing these phenomena and the cause and end of their existence is the all-pervading spirit, the present expositor of the divine mind. These propositions culled from the more intelligible of Emerson's sentences, may not be so clear to the reader as they presumably were to him, but they may help to explain the writings which he contrib- uted to our literature and the peculiarity of their con- struction. Whatever he saw, or thought he saw, according Ralph Waldo Emerson 293 to Ms own idealistic theory, was perceived with an intuition which did not wait for the slow steps of logical processes. He did not arrive at conclusions by stages observable to ordinary comprehension. Where there is any connection between one station of his speech and another it is by a submerged wire. There is a flash here, another yonder, but the reader may not immediately discover the path through the sea or earth or air by which the current went. He used to say that his sentences were repellent particles. A paragraph of them, like a handful of bullets, might be arranged in any order, yet singly or together they were effective. This no doubt was the case when they were discharged from the platform. No time was given to make connections, as in reading, but the personality, voice, and emphasis attending oral delivery aided the hearers* apprehension. At any rate, where he was heard once he was sent for again — except possibly in that town where a minister followed the lecturer with a prayer that they might be " delivered from ever again hearing such tran- scendental nonsense." Twelve years were required to sell five hundred copies of " Nature," but its readers were many and the commotion it made corresponded to the strangeness of its doctrines. These were restated in clearer language before the scholars of Harvard in 1837 in an oration on the "American Scholar," which Dr. Holmes was pleased to term " our intellectual declaration of independence." Tne speaker opened with the announcement that our day of indepen- dence, our long apprenticeship to the learning of other lands, draws to a close, and took up his theme of " Man Thinking " as opposed to the parrot of other men's thoughts. 294 American Literature " Nature is the first instructor of this thinking man, then the mind of the past in literature, and next action in the world of affairs, inspiring confidence in himself. Without deference to the popular cry, he is to bide his time and wait for the recog- nition of the future. Nobility is in that which is near, and success in abiding by the best instincts until the world follows. " The first in time and the first in importance of the influences upon the mind is that of nature. Every day the sun ; and after sunset, night and her stars. Ever the winds blow ; ever the grass grows. Every day, men and women, conversing, behold- ing and beholden. The scholar is he of all men whom this spectacle most engages. He must settle its value in his mind. What is nature to him] ... To the young mind, everything is individual, stands by itself. By and by it finds how to join two things, and see in them one nature ; then three, then three thousand ; and so tyrannized over by its own unifying instinct, it goes on tying things together, diminishing anomalies, discover- ing roots running under ground, whereby contrary and remote things cohere, and flower out from one stem. The ambitious soul sits down before each refractory fact ; one after another, reduces all strange constitutions, all new powers, to their class and law, and goes on forever to animate the last fibre of organ- ization, the outskirts of nature, by insight." Here again the speaker's personality amounted to more than subsequent meditation on the printed report of what he said. Lowell declared that " it was an event without any former parallel in our literary annals — a scene to be always treasured in the memory for picturesqueness and inspiration." A leader had arisen who was to give a new direction to the thoughts of his comrades and to stir his antagonists to revising their ancient system of defences. As an inspirer and quickener of thinking minds Emer- son was a special providence to American letters. Some considered him as an inscrutable visitation of Providence Ralph Waldo Emerson 295 upon New England, and treated him accordingly; but many were inclined to call what they could not understand heresy, and what they knew was unorthodox '' A Stimulant. they labelled transcendentalism, and half hoped they should hear more of him. They could not resist the gracious manner, the benignant face, the sincerity, the optimism, the strong sense, the genial spirit, and the lofty intellectual flight of the greatest thinker of his time in his country. He appeared as the importer of the outer world's philosophy and its interpreter, as Longfellow had introduced the legendary lore of its poetry. Together the two leaders gave the nation an impulse in letters which radiated in several directions. After the publication of " Nature," in 1836, he continued to assemble the best of his lectures in the form of essays, a first series in 1841 and a second in 1844. p^.^^^ These were followed at irregular intervals by '^"*"^e*- " Miscellanies," " Representative Men," " English Traits," " The Conduct of Life," and others, down to the " Sover- eignty of Ethics" in 1878, twenty-four titles in about forty-five years of production, spanning the second and third quarters of the century. A sample of his style may be taken at random, for there was no radical change in his product from first to last. This is from " Prospects " in the volume of " Miscellanies " : " So shall we come to look at the world with new eyes. It shall answer the endless inquiry of the intellect — what is truth % and of the affections — what is good ? by yielding itself passive to the educated will. There shall come to pass what the poet said, * Nature is not fixed, but fluid.' Spirit alters, molds, makes it. The immobility or bruteness of nature is the absence of spirit ; to pure spirit it is fluid, it is volatile, it is obedient. 29^ American Literature Every spirit builds itself a home ; and beyond its bouse is its world, and beyond its world a heaven. Know then that the world exists for you. For you is the phenomenon perfect. What we are, that only can we see. All that Adam had, all that Csesar could, you have and can do. Adam called his house, heaven and earth ; Csesar called his house, Rome ; you perhaps call yours, a cobbler's trade ; a hundred acres of ploughed land ; or a scholar's garret. Yet line for line and point for point, your dominion is as great as theirs, though without fine names. Build, therefore, your own world." . . . To the general reader it will be a waste of time to attempt a paraphrase of such pages into expanded and connected discourse. It would be next to impossible, if the tradition of Emerson's composition is true — that he selected from notebooks sentences enough for an essay and arranged them about a topic as well as time would permit. If so he deserves in a sense the scholastic title of the Middle Ages — Master of Sentences. He may also be called an artist in mosaic ; but of continuous and con- nected discourse he would never have called himself a master, nor would any one else, imless endowed with seven-league boots to keep step with this giant as he strode from point to point in his intuitional processes. Among the volumes of prose which frequently ap- peared, books of " Poems " were issued in 1847 and 1865, with single poems and revisions at other times. They cannot be overlooked in any account of Emerson's literary work, since he has been regarded by some as a greater poet than prose writer. Moreover, if he had any higher or choicer thought than common he pre- ferred to put it in verse. And to the ordinary reader it will seem that if he had any more abstruse and mystical thought than usual, he enclosed it in measures and lines Ralph Waldo Emerson 297 equally difficult to comprehend on customary theories of poetic composition. The thought is undoubtedly exalted, possibly too sublime for ordinary apprehension, but even a great poet is limited by the laws of prosody, if he aims to please the ear of his readers. He may say that thought is of more consequence than expression, but not if it is to be understood, or if metre and rhyme are of value in poetry. But this independent singer declared his position in this respect, and illustrated it at the same time when he wrote of the poet : " He shall not his brain encumber With coil of rhythm and number; But leaving rule and pale forethought. He aye shall climb For his rhyme." But the climbing for the measure here suggests the anti- climax of an inverted ladder. So, too, the terseness of the following does not add to its perspicuity : ** Mine and yours; mine not yours, Earth endures ; stars abide — Shine in the old sea; Old as the shores, but where are old men P I who have seen much Such have I never seen." '' Of Owning Land " is clear, though half prose : ** They called me theirs, Who so controlled me; Yet every one Wished to stay and is gone. How am I theirs If they cannot hold me, But I hold them." 298 American Literature His answer to his own question " Where are old men? '* is found in " The World Love " in good verse : *' Spring still makes spring in the mind When sixty years are told ; Love makes anew this throbbing heart, , And we are never old. Over the winter glaciers I see the summer glow, And through the wild-piled snowdrift The warm rosebuds glow." After these qualifications it may be asked wherein does the value and popularity of Emerson's poetry consist, so far as it is popular? Undoubtedly in its cheerfulness first of alL There are beautiful poems which can be well enough understood by any reader to make him feel that both sides of everything were bright to the poet. If dark to-day it will be sunny to-morrow. Midnight will be noon in twelve hours. He believed in the evolution of every- thing toward a better state. Meantime be patient : " I will wait heaven's perfect hour Through the innumerable years." Be laborious also : " On bravely through the sunshine and the showers 1 Time hath his work to do — and we have ours." A people given to sombre views of life relish the opti- mistic views of a strong thinker who helps them hold up their heads and keep a good heart amidst real or fancied ills. They can forego the fine art of Poe's twilight and spectral verse if they can find optimism in lines which are not always regular or quite as intelligible as these : Ralph Waldo Emerson 299 ** Yet spake yon purple mountain. Yet said yon ancient wood, That night or day, that love or crime Leads all souls to the good." So his sturdy and wholesome love of nature commends his verse to those who are in sympathy with its rugged aspects. His " Snow Storm " is next to Whittier's as far as it goes ; the " Ehodora " an exquisite flower piece, and the " Humble Bee " an " animated torrid zone " of verse, as the bee itself was of insect life. Nothing in the ma- terial universe was beyond his interest; but he looked upon nothing long, whether flower of the field or star of heaven, without a vision of the spiritual truth it sym- bolized. Of this he was the clear-eyed seer and a pro- claimer to his generation of what he saw. If men accepted his interpretation it was well. If not, he had no word of impatient censure, saying only : " Life is too short to waste In critic peep or cynic bark, Quarrel or reprimand, 'T will soon be dark." XXVI NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE Many of the makers of literature in the first half of the niaeteenth century had searched diligently for fresh material in the new country. Some had found it in the Indian, and others in the war for independence, or in life and adventures on the frontier. At last a New Englander appeared who found in the bleak and dreary existence of the first settlers the germ of the greatest romances that have been written on American soil. It was fit that he should be born in Salem, the next town to be settled after Plymouth. Believers in heredity will think that one in whose veins the bluest blood of the Puritans ran was best able to understand their bigoted righteousness on the one hand and on the other their strict conscientiousness. Nathaniel Hawthorne, born in 1804, a year later than Emerson, was the descendant of six generations of seafaring Early Years ™®^» ^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ homCS in the old tOWU. A andwritings. p^j^Q^g auccstor had been a judge who had sen- tenced unhappy victims of the witchcraft delusion to be hanged. A gloom as of remorse seems to have descended with the race. It was not dissipated by the seclusion in which the mother of Hawthorne kept herself after his father's death on a South American voyage. The boy's free life for a few years in the Maine lake and woods country, where the family had an estate, was good for his 300 Nathaniel Hawthorne 301 physique and his reflective faculties, but not for com- panionable qualities. If these were developed by four years at Bowdoin College, they certainly were not by ten subsequent years of seclusion in the Salem home. But the three periods together prepared him for the highest achievement in the single direction in which he chose to work for over thirty years. He began writing in the retirement of the Salem house after his graduation. For ten years in the privacy of his room he wrote stories and burned most of them. Occasion- ally one would get into the " Salem Gazette," the " Knicker- bocker Magazine," the "Token," or the "Era" over an anonymous signature, but more of them went up the chimney, leaving behind, however, the strength which practice gives. After three years of working and waiting the youthful author tested his accumulations of power by publishing " Fanshawe," a story of college days. The limited demand for it showed him that his time for rec- ognition had not yet come. So he continued to labor for nine more years of apprenticeship to his profession — at that time an unpromising one. At the end of this period, in 1837, the first volume of " Twice-Told Tales " appeared, and the world knew, if Hawthorne did not, that patience had done its perfect work. Not that he had attained the preeminence of a later achievement, but that in the domain of the sketch he had surpassed the efforts of his predecessor, Irving. Many of these short stories had been printed in various publications without attracting attention, but when gathered in a volume they seemed suddenly to acquire an importance previously undiscovered. No one can say how long the author would have had to wait for recognition had not his friend Bridge confidentially \^ 302 American Literature assured a hesitating publisher that he would assume the risk of a first edition. It was he who, as a classmate Delay of ^ coUege, had constantly insisted that Haw- ecognition. ^j^Qj^g should be a writer of romance, and upon him Hawthorne playfully charges the responsibility of his choice of literature as a vocation. But his immediate success was doubtful to the author himself. In the preface to a later edition of his first book he wrote : " The author has a claim to one distinction which none of his literary brethren will care about disputing with him. He was for a good many years the obscurest man of letters in America. Throughout the time above specified he had no incitement to literary effort in a reasonable prospect of reputation or profit, nothing but the pleasure itself of composition, which in the long run will hardly keep the chill out of a writer's heart or the numbness out of his fingers. To this total lack of sympathy the public owe it that the author can show nothing for the thought and industry of that portion of his life save the forty sketches included in these volumes." There have been many young writers since his day who would have been repaid for a dozen years of labor by such a product, but there are few who would have persevered under the same depressing conditions. Despite his genu- ine modesty he had an assuring confidence in his own gifts which carried him on through the laborious years until recognition came. He could say of them long after in a letter dedicatory to his friend Bridge : " But was there ever such a weary delay in obtaining the slightest recognition from the public as in my case ? I sat down by the wayside of life like a man under enchantment. . . . And there, perhaps, I should be sit- ting at this moment if it had not been for you." This Nathaniel Hawthorne 303 was written fourteen years after the first volume of the "Tales" was published, when others were added under the title of the " Snow Image." Some of them were among the earliest that he wrote and some of later com- position. With some he is disposed to quarrel because of their early faults and with others because they approach so nearly to the best he can now achieve. To many writers it is gratifying that such an artist as Haw- thorne could say : " The ripened autumnal fruit tastes but little better than the early windfalls." Those who in 1837 read the first collection of the stories might have predicted what would be the output of a writer who must have seemed to appear suddenly and full-fledged among them. Old New England is portrayed in the first sketch and introduced in its first sentence. " The G-ray Cham- pion " links the province with the mother country, and the administration of Sir Edmund Andros with the spirit of resistance to tyranny which resulted in eventual inde- pendence. It was the commonwealth against the Stuarts on American territory, with an Ironside patriarch, or the ghost of him, as leader of the independents. " ' Stand ! ' cried he. " At the old man's word and outstretched arm, the roll of the drum was hushed at once, and the advancing line stood still. That stately form combining the leader and the saint, so gray, so dimly seen, in such an ancient garb, could only belong to some old champion of the righteous cause, whom the oppres- sor's drum had summoned from his grave. They raised a shout of awe and exultation, and looked for the deliverance of New England. . . .One would have thought that the dark old man was chief ruler there, and that the Governor and Council, with soldiers at their back, representing the whole power and author- ity of the Crown had no alternative but obedience. 304 American Literature "*What does this old fellow here]* cried Edward Randolph, fiercely. * On, Sir Edmund ! Bid the soldiers forward, and give the dotard the same choice that you gave all his country- men — to stand aside or he trampled on ! ' " * Nay, nay, let us show respect to the good grandsire,* said BuUivant, laughing. * See you not, he is some old round- head dignitary who hath lain asleep these thirty years, and knows nothing of the change of times 1 Doubtless, he thinks to put us down with a proclamation in old Noll's name.' "*Are you mad, old mani' demanded Sir Edmund Andros. *How dare you stay the march of King James's Governor?' " * I have stayed the march of a King himself, ere now,' replied the gray figure, with stern composure. *I am here, Sir Governor, because the cry of an oppressed people hath disturbed me in my secret place ; and, beseeching this favor earnestly of the Lord^ it was vouchsafed me to appear once again on earth, in the good old cause of his saints. . . . Back, thou that wast a Governor, back ! With this night thy power is ended — to-morrow, the prison ! — back, lest I foretell the scaffold ! ' ^' The people had been drawing nearer and nearer. They con* fronted the soldiers, not wholly without arms, and ready to con« vert the very stones of the street into deadly weapons. Sir Edmund Andros looked at the old man ; then he cast his hard and cruel eye over the multitude, and beheld them burning with that lurid wrath, so difficult to kindle or to quench; but whether the oppressor were overawed by the Gray Champion's look, or perceived his peril in the threatening attitude of the people, it is certain that he gave back, and ordered his soldiers to commence a slow and guarded retreat. Before another sunset, the Governor, and all that rode so proudly with him, were prisoners, and long ere it was known that James had abdicated, King William was proclaimed throughout New England.*' But political features of colonial life do not so much concern its romancer as the social, religious, and mental states and conditions which prevailed in the early period. Nathaniel Hawthorne 305 Of course a minister must appear among the first portraits of the time in all the reverend consequence which he shared with the magistrate. The one who p^^^^^ wore the black veil introduced the element of Traditions, mystery half accounted for, which henceforth is to con- stitute a subtle fascination in this magician's performances. The secret will die with the priest, and the multitude will be left to its own conjectures with little help from two or three plausible suggestions from the author toward a solution of the mystery. Neither will there always be an obtrusion of the moral. Sometimes as if in fear that the mystery had clouded the meaning of the story, as in "The Maypole," "Wakefield," and "Prophetic Pictures," the author makes clear his purpose, but oftener the high art of the narrative conveys it as surely and insensibly as the breeze carries health or infection. In the years of his preparation for larger works he did the best that he could have done for himself and for pos- terity in rewriting scraps of history, biography, and mythology for children. His keen sense of the suscepti- bility of childhood to that which is best in life and litera- ture made him regard as conscientious endeavor the books bearing the attractive titles of "The Whole History of Grandfather's Chair," " A Wonder Book for Girls and Boys," " True Stories from History and Biography," and " Tanglewood Tales." There is true wisdom in his re- mark, that "if a writer succeeds in pleasing his little readers he may hope to be remembered by them till their own old age — a far longer period of literary existence than is generally attained by those who seek immortality from the judgments of full-grown men." In particular his sketches of New England history prepare the young 20 3o6 American Literature reader for the author's treatment of its inner spirit in the romances which were to follow these studies in local color. In 1839 Hawthorne left his Salem home for a position in the Boston custom-house, and in 1841 was drawn into the transient side-show of the trans cendentalists — the Brook Farm Community. He stayed long enough to learn that an ideal life does not consist in violating the maxim of " every man to his trade/' and that as a rule novelists do not succeed as field hands, however diligently they may perform their tasks. The next year he married and went to live in the old parsonage at Concord that had been built for Emerson's grandfather, and from which he had witnessed the first battle of the Eevolution. There also Emerson had written " Nature," his first work. In the three years' stay Hawthorne wrote more stories and sketches, now known as " Mosses from an Old Manse." Then came three years of drudgery in the Salem custom- house, affording a better living, but little opportunity for literary work. But the spoils system could not turn aside for the benefit of genius, which accordingly had to make room for a Whig in 1849. " Now you can write your book," was the exclamation of the wife when she was told of the place lost, and she showed the money she had been saving week by week against an evil day. The next year, 1850, "The Scarlet Letter" appeared — the masterpiece of New England fiction in the century. Hitherto Hawthorne had been a writer of stories, a commendable occupation in spite of the excla- «' The Scarlet ^ ^ Letter "and matiou which hc put into a Puritan ancestor's other ■•• Romances. jjjouth, " Why the f cllow had better have been a fiddler." But he got even with him and all his austere Nathaniel Hawthorne 307 forbears in this romance of the dark ages in the Bay Province. It is a vision of sin through its consequences. It is also and more a tragedy of hypocrisy, in the strain of seeming rather than being, and unwearied revenge casts its shadow over all. The author took no risks of his purpose being misunderstood when he wrote at the end: "Be true I Be true! Show freely to the world if not your worst, yet some trait whereby the worst may be inferred." The twenty-five years of waiting for recognition were over and the supremacy of the author of " The Scarlet Letter " was established by the sale of the entire first edition in ten days. After this success, phenomenal for the times, " The Snow Image " and " The House of Seven Gables " follow during his residence of a year and a half at Lenox. In the winter of 1851-52 at West Newton he finished " The Blithedale Komance," based on his memories of Brook Farm. In "The House of Seven Gables" he prolongs the shadows of early Puritan days in a dark story of retribution — the sin of the fathers following the children to the third and fourth generation. The patronage which royalty sometimes pays to men of letters had in this republic and in Hawthorne's instance been limited to custom-house salaries. But when Frank- lin Pierce, his college mate and lifelong friend, came into the presidential chair he appointed our foremost novelist to the remunerative consulship at Liverpool. At last official prerogative was well employed. And when his term of service had expired the man whose observation had been restricted to Massachusetts first, and next to so much of England as he could visit from his consular office, was now permitted to pass some years in continental 3o8 American Literature residence and travel. Out of this came in 1860 " The Marble Faun," a romance in which the shadows of ancient Eome fall upon modern life. Still it is the same human heart upon which he is brooding in Italy as in New Eng- land, with the same subtle analysis, suggestion, and partial explanation in Miriam and Donatello as in Zenobia, Judge Pyncheon, and Arthur Dimmesdale. Everywhere the demonstrator of psychological anatomy is apparent and preeminent. He finds with unerring certainty the motors which do the deed, and back of them he more than hints at impelling causes and soul forces viewless as the winds. With consummate art he stops at the line, not always discerned, between suggestion and bald statement, leaving to the intelligent reader the privilege of discovering, or thinking that he has discovered, something by himself. Besides there is the strange attraction which belongs to the unearthly, the fantastic, and the ghostly, beginning with the love of creepy horrors in childhood and continuing into later years. Eecall the portrait he drew of Judge Pyncheon : " The judge has not shifted his position for a long while now. He holds his watch in his left hand, but clutched in such a manner that you cannot see the dial-plate. How profound a fit of meditation ! You hear the ticking of his watch ; his breath you do not hear. A most refreshing slumber, doubtless ! And yet, the judge cannot be asleep. His eyes are open ! No, no ! Judge Pyncheon cannot be asleep. " This was to have been such a busy day ! He was to meet a State-street broker, who has undertaken to procure a heavy percentage, and the best of paper, for a few loose thousands which the judge happens to have by him, uninvested. Half an hour later there was to be an auction of real estate, including a portion of the old Pyncheon property, originally belonging to Nathaniel Hawthorne 309 Maule's garden-ground. The judge had kept it in his eye, and had set his heart on reannexing it to the small demesne still left around the seven gables; — and now during this odd fit of oblivion, the fatal hammer must have fallen, and transferred our ancient patrimony to some alien possessor ! '' And then, after sundry other matters of business, — the purchase of a horse, the renewal of Mrs. Pyncheon's tombstone, a conference with political friends about the November election, and a case for charity, he must consult his physician : " About what, for Heaven's sake 1 Why, it is rather difficult to describe the symptoms. A mere dimness of sight and dizzi- ness of brain, was it 1 No matter what it was. But a fig for medical advice ! The judge will never need it. "Up, therefore. Judge Pyncheon, up! You have lost a day. But to-morrow will be here anon. Will you rise, be- times, and make the most of iti To-morrow! To-morrow! To-morrow ! We, that are alive, may rise betimes to-morrow. As for him that has died to-day, his morrow will be the resurrection morn. "Rise up, thou subtile, worldly, selfish, iron-hearted hypo- crite, and make thy choice whether still to be subtile, worldly, selfish, iron-hearted, and hypocritical, or to tear these sins out of thy nature, though they bring the life-blood with them ! The Avenger is upon thee ! Rise up before it be too late ! " Art thou too weak, that wast so powerful 1 Nay, then, we give thee up ! " The outlines of this portraiture given here cannot con- vey the masterly detail of suggestion and description occupying an entire chapter. With the light raillery of a friendly neighbor he addresses the important magistrate of the town as he seems to his townsmen, but beneath the fair panoply of words is the keen perception of guile and 3IO American Literature hypocrisy, of greed and injustice and of ill-deserving amidst apparent prosperity and honor. It is here as in the other volumes : for some readers there is the masterly construction of singular characters around some over- powering trait to which all others conform in fateful and obedient consistency, or against which they contend with unavailing struggles. Others will take delight in a style in which the law of adaptation is never transgressed : the one word best revealing the present shade of thought being used and rightly placed, while the prevailing tone is everywhere that of the scene presented. More than other qualities, yet supplemented by them, is the high moral purpose pervading all of Hawthorne's writings. If at times they are shadowed with the forms of evil, it is because they are never absent from human life. He does not, however, dwell upon their disgusting features, but rather upon the consequences of harboring them. And this in contrast to the better way, the nobler life, the final triumph of what is right and just and true. He does not preach, but there are few sermons which so effectively convey their message as the sketches and romances of this instructor in ethics. His place in literature is not a doubtful one. It is now a third of a century since the last of his four great romances was written, to be followed by " Our Old Home " as the impressions of England were called, and this by " American and Foreign Note Books," an unfinished work published after his death. But meantime no writer has caught his art, or clothed himself with the genius which comes not by labor. Hawthorne discovered his field and so harvested it that later explorers have been but gleaners. Critics can point out the minor defects which prove him Nathaniel Hawthorne 311 to have written with the pen of a mortal and not of a recording angel, but all the greater is the testimony of what criticism has left untouched — the larger part — to the genius of the greatest romancer of the nineteenth century in America. XXVII JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL The antecedents and surroundings of authors are always an interesting element in any account of what they pro- duced. In some degree they give tone and color to the product. A second thought, however, must sometimes be taken to adjust their themes and methods of treatment to their manner of life. And often a further inquiry into characteristic traits must be made in order to understand why they wrote as they did. Of none is this truer than of Lowell, a boy with the inheritance of good birth and breeding and literary attain- Diaiect ment, who grew up in a library, went through ^*"*' Harvard, reading out-of-the-way authors, ab- sorbing the flavor of remote literatures, and then turning out — as the work by which he was first recognized — " The Biglow Papers," a political satire in Yankee dialect on the Mexican War. The form of it might have been attributed to a down-east schoolmaster, except that he would not have dared to shock over-nice proprieties by lines like these: " Thrash away, you '11 hev to rattle On them kittle-drums o* youm— 'T ain't a knowin' kind o' cattle Thet is ketched with mouldy com ; Put in stiff, you fifer feller, Let folks see how spry you be — Guess you '11 toot till you are yeller »Fore you git a-hold o' me I " 312 James Russell Lowell 313 No, a priggish versifier would not have risked his reputation on such naturalism, but just as the well-bred man will in sport violate the conventionalities of behavior with a freedom from which another shrinks for fear that he may be charged with ignorance of good usage, so Lowell dared to sport in rhymes from which a less assured poet would have recoiled. Besides, there was another reason. The burning question of extension of territory in the in- terest of slavery was coming to the front. A few orators and editors were laboring in vain with an obsequious North. Pulpits were watching the wind and counselling peace and compromise. This poet, who had the soul of a cru- sader, recently stirred to see the real drift of a humane issue, as by intuition hit upon a method of persuasion more effective than all the serious talk of premature reformers. The homely sense of the provincial Yankee needed to be addressed in its own vernacular and with its own wit. The New Englander may or may not see the se- rious side of affairs, but he cannot resist the ridiculous phase clothed in his own lingo. Garrison might print his appeals of iron logic and be mobbed. Whittier might write his " Lament of a Slave Mother " to have it called sentimen- talism run wild, but the coast trader who had grown rich in Boston could not be impervious to this : " Them thet rule us, them slave-traders, Hain't they cut a thunderin' swath (Helped by Yankee renegaders) Thru the vartu of the North 1 We begin to think it *s nater To take sarse and not be riled ; Who 'd expect to see a tater All on eend at bein' biled ? " 3*4 American Literature On the general wrong and the particular misery of war " Hosee " is equally emphatic and pertinent. He did not stop the war, but the men who enlisted after his vivid let- ters from camp had their eyes open to what awaited them. Meantime the country at large read a statement of the real issue at stake in the Mexican War such as could not be found in the newspapers and presidential messages. They became familiar with the grounds of a controversy which was coming nearer home twenty years later. Then another series of Biglow papers would do the same ser- vice to the same cause in the straits of a civil war. Both together, in verse or prose, will remain as evidence of the aid which an accomplished man of letters could give in a great crisis by knowing how and by daring to be efficient at the risk of criticism. If it be said that he had Bums' dialect verse as a prece- dent, it will be remembered that the Ayrshire ploughman could write nothing else so well, which is not true of Lowell, as both his earlier and later poems show. Some notice of these should be taken before recalling his prose writings. Of his earlier poems he said he would gladly suppress many if he could, but the iujustice of the copyright law placed them beyond his control It is the penalty of success that poor work as well as good must go to swell " the only complete edition " of this and that publisher. Still if a dozen compilers of Lowell's best poems were each to make a selection, it is probable that few would be omitted from the total choice of all. And a few would be found in every collection. Those which belong to that springtime of life, as well as of the year, when the heart of the young man " lightly turns to love " will appeal to James Russell Lowell 3^5 all who have not forgotten when they too were young. In " My Love " he sang for himself and for many another youth : *' Not as all other women are Is she that to my soul is dear." And, of course, there would be at least one address to " The Moon," and also a " Serenade," whose burden is : " Must we forever, then, be alone, Alone, alone, ah, woe ! alone ! " There are songs in the same strain to "Allegra," to "M. L.," to "Perdita," to "Rosaline," which any lover might be proud to write for another man ; but p^^^^^^ ^^ then if he had the courage to print them as s«"**"*®"*- the outpourings of his own young heart he must, when older, " accept with silent contrition the consequences, and consent to the reprinting of old editions without excision," as the poet himself did against his will, adding Petrarch's words to Boccaccio, " We neither of us are such poets as we thought ourselves when we were younger." It should be said, however, that this poet's lady-love was all that his pen portrayed, and that her strong convictions on a great philanthropic question turned Lowell from the more than indifference of his Commencement poem to the championship exhibited in the " Biglow Papers." When his life was no longer "alone," manifold and larger interests began to appeal to a thoughtful spirit med- itating upon the problems and touched by the Graver sad experiences which come to alL The for- ^*"*- tunes of rich and poor are set forth in " The Heritage ; " the sickness which wastes alarms in " The Prayer ; " the death which comes is deplored in " The Requiem." In " Rhoe- cus" is discovered the poet's large sympathy with the 3i6 American Literature voices of nature, and with its hidden beauty in " Beaver Brook," and in the " Stanzas on Freedom " an early note that was prolonged in fuller strain in the "Interview with Miles Standish " and the " Capture of the Fugitives." As the climax of all this early verse, " The Vision of Sir Launfal" unites the spirit of the seasons with the pur- pose of the heart and finds the guerdon that is sought wearily and afar in the lowly disguise of an overlooked opportunity lying as a beggar at the doors. " His words were shed softer than leaves from the pine, And they fell on Sir Launfal as snows on the brine, That mingle their softness and quiet in one With the shaggy unrest they float down upon ; And the voice that was softer than silence said, ' Lo it is I, be not afraid ! In many climes, without avail, Thou hast spent thy life for the Holy Grail ; Behold it is here, — this cup which thou Didst fill at the streamlet for me but now ; This crust is my body broken for thee. This water his blood that died on the tree ; The Holy Supper is kept, indeed, In whatso we share with another's need ; Not what we give, but what we share. For the gift without the giver is bare ; Who gives himself with his alms feeds three, Himself, his hungering neighbor, and me.* Sir Launfal awoke as from a swound : * The Grail in my castle here is found I Hang my idle armor up on the wall, Let it be the spider's banquet-hall ; • He must be fenced with stronger mail Who would seek and find the Holy Grail.' " The Castle gate stands open now, And the wanderer is welcome to the hall As the hang-bird is to the elm -tree bough ; No longer scowl the turrets tall, James Russell Lowell 317 The Summer's long siege at last is o'er ; When the first poor outcast went in at the door, She entered with him in disguise And mastered the fortress by surprise ; There is no spot she loves so well on ground, She lingers and smiles there the whole year round ; The meanest serf on Sir Launfal's land Has hall and bower at his command ; And there 's no poor man in the North Countree But is lord of the earldom as much as he.'* No student of American literature can afford to pass over " A Fable for Critics," in which is reck- .. p^^^j^ ^^^ lessly told what the prince of critics thought of ^"*^*^-" his fellows and contemporary authors. First he pays a compliment to the critic as " One of the omnivorous swallowers. Who bolt every book that comes out of the press, Without the least question of larger or less, A reading machine always wound up and agoing, He masters whatever is not worth the knowing, Then, rising by industry, knack and address, Gets notices up for an unbiased press." And so on for several pages of pasquinade on the craft of reviewers with a jeering audacity which reminds one of the taunts of his tormentors by an Indian brave tied to the stake and waiting to be roasted. His characterization of his literary co-workers was taken with more or less good grace, according as they felt secure or otherwise in their position and above the daring frolicsomeness of a youthful member of the guild of letters. Emerson doubtless smiled in a charitable, philo- sophic way, as well he might, over the sum of what was said, while WHlis cannot be blamed for putting up a supercilious stare at the newcomer, and Bryant might 3i8 American Literature justly have turned cooler than usual after being compared to an iceberg. Whittier could not have relished allusion to incorrect syntax and prosody, nor Dana to his own idleness and indecision. And so of others — Parker, Cooper, Longfellow, Halleck, Poe, Irving, Holmes, and finally, as a sop to Cerberus, Lowell wrote of himself : •* There is Lowell, who 's striving Parnassus to climb. With a whole bale of isms tied together with rhyme. His lyre has some chords that would ring pretty well, But he 'd rather by half make a drum of the shell, And rattle away till he 's old as Methusalem, At the head of a march to the New Jerusalem." But this was always some city of God, and the verse which he wrote on the way or beneath its walls had in it the rinff of the old crusading hymns. To it one War Poems. .-,, ^ , . , , , , Will turn from the merry quips of youthful rhyme as to the deeper currents on which the other floated as bubbles of mirth. How deep and strong were these currents of devotion to what was best in human life and national life is seen in the poems of his later years. Particularly in the collection entitled "Poems of the War " is revealed a patriotism whose strength and sincerity are measured by the tributes to kindred and friends fallen in the strife. " The Washers of the Shroud " is the war song of an uplifted manhood, gathering itself in the first year of conflict for the doing and the suffering which was to come in the succeeding years of uncertain duration and final issue. Then followed the requiem for one who — " Right in the van, On the red rampart's slippery swell. With heart that beat a charge, he fell Forward, as fits a man." James Russell Lowell 319 The culmination of all the poetry of that fateful time came in the " Commemoration Ode " of 1865, when Harvard laid the laurel wreath on the grave of her sons who had died to save the nation. In it Lowell is seen at his best and noblest, chanting a dirge for the heroes slain which becomes a song of triumph at last for a nation saved : ** Be proud ! for she is saved, and all have helped to save her ! She that lifts up the manhood of the poor, She of the open soul and open door, With room about her hearth for all mankind ! ♦* What were our lives without thee? What all our lives to save thee ? We reck not what we gave thee ; We will not dare to doubt thee, But ask whatever else, and we will dare ! " Memorial poems follow this lofty strain as prolonged echoes, and then the themes of peace conclude the product of years. A tribute to Curtis and another to Agassiz show how far elegiac verse has drifted from Puritan fashions. "Endymion" is a glance backward toward Greece and myth, " Phoebe " a return to birdland and the dews of the morning. " Fitz Adam's Story " is the fragment of an im- completed series after the manner of the "Canterbury Tales," in which the humorist gets back to Yankee- land again with Ezra Weeks and Uncle Eeuben and Jethro and other down-easters in the tavern on Quompegan street. And there the poetic side of Lowell must be left with his cronies, but not in a room which might have been across the road, the picture of which is worthy of Chaucer : " There was a parlor in the house, a room To make you shudder with its prudish gloom. The furniture stood round with such an air, There seemed an old maid's ghost in every chair, 320 American Literature Which looked as it had scuttled to its place And pulled extempore a Sunday face. Too smugly proper for a world of sin, Like boys on whom the minister comes in. The table, fronting you with icy stare Strove to look witless that its legs were bare, While the black sofa with its horse-hair pall Gloomed like a bier for Comfort's funeral. Each piece appeared to do its chilly best To seem an utter stranger to the rest, As if acquaintanceship were deadly sin. Like Britons meeting in a foreign inn. Two portraits graced the wall in grimmest truth, Mister and Mistress W. in their youth, — New England youth, that seems a sort of pill, Half wish-I-dared, half Edwards on the Will, Bitter to swallow, and which leaves a trace Of Calvinistic colic on the face. Between them, o'er the mantel, hung in state Solomon's temple, done in copperplate; Invention pure, but meant, we may presume, To give some Scripture sanction to the room. Facing this, two samplers you might see. Each, with its urn and stiffly- weeping tree, Devoted to some memory long ago More faded than their lines of worsted woe ; But paper decked their frames against the flies, Though none dared an entrance who were wise, And bushed asparagus in fading green Added its shiver to the franklin clean." The prose writings must have less attention than they deserve. For the most part they are the result of three Prose years' editorship of the "Atlantic Monthly" Writings. ^^ Qf j^g yg^^g ^^ ^-^Q g^^^ Qf ^l^g « Jj^OTth American Eeview." No one can say how much of this would have been furnished in addition to the labors of his Harvard professorship if it had not been for the demands of these periodicals. Emerson loftily says: James Russell Lowell 321 *' Hitch your wagon to a star." This is well enough for the sage of Concord, but to get the most out of a common man hitch him to a printing press that is ran on schedule time. Fortunately Lowell had to be on time but once a month with the " Atlantic " and once a quarter with the " Eeview," but that was often enough for what he brought to press. In some of his contributions there is stock suf- ficient to furnish an ordinary writer for a lifetime if it should be judiciously watered. In other essays it might require a short lifetime to foUow to their remote starting places the lines of allusion and suggestion that are con- centred within the compass of a half-hour's reading. These allusions have sometimes been an offence to critics, who have in consequence called Lowell pedantic. Of course the pleasing quality of an allusion depends upon the reader's acquaintance with what is alluded to; but if he should not happen to have been so extensive a traveller in the domains of literature, history, or science as his author, any mention of something he has not met with is exasperating. He may have to stop and consult some book of reference. On the other hand it is complimentary in a writer to take for granted that his reader's information equals his own, and allusion to things familiar to him is on the whole more pardonable than ignorance about them. His early punning propensity cannot, to be sure, be so easily condoned. It belongs to the effervescence of youth, which he was long in outgrowing, and is as reprehensible as the froth from a beer bottle just uncorked, which has, however, the merit of indicating that what follows will not be stale. And as for his enlivening fancy, its evolutions and transformations are pyrotechnic to the matter-of-fact reader, but radiant with creative light to a sympathetic 21 322 American Literature understanding. It is the glow of a living intelligence throwing off heat and splendor, quickening and illuminat- ing anything within its reach — except those who put on smoked and critical glasses to count the number of scin- tillations per minute. The range of these essays is almost as wide as that of the author's learning or his fancy. Critical a large part of them would naturally be from his editorial position, but the criticism is creative and suggestive and apprecia- tive as well as corrective. It opens the gates into wide and often unexplored fields of literature, where the diffi- culty of following him becomes a pleasure. In his " Library of Old English Authors " he gives glimpses of treasures unsuspected by the reader of modern books. In the essays upon Chaucer and Spenser and Shakespeare and Milton, Dryden, Pope, Wordsworth, and Coleridge he displays the wealth of English poetry, with frequent allusion to the classics of other lands. The literature of travel is enriched by his " Italy," and " At Sea ; " of the woods, by his "Moosehead Journal;" of the academic town, by " Cambridge Thirty Years Ago ; " of biography, by his reminiscences of distinguished contemporaries, American and foreign. Even the New England climate is treated better than it deserves in his " A Good Word for Winter ; " also critical travellers from over the sea in his " Condescension in Foreigners." " * How am I vulgar ? * asks the [American] culprit, shudderingly. 'Because thou art not like unto Us,' answers Lucifer, son of the morning, and there is no more to be said." For a re- turned ambassador who has been accused of un-American sympathies this essay should be a vindication, if his patriotism ever needed defending. It is also good to read James Russell Lowell 322 as a tonic before crossing the Atlantic, or after returning as a restorative to a disturbed equilibrium. It may be true that Lowell is an author for the studious rather than the man of affairs — to use an indefinite term. But all pleasure of reading does not consist in ease of apprehension; if so, children's books would drive all others from the market. On the other hand, this ease does not always measure the cost of writing what is com- prehended or its value. No reader of Lowell can fail to see that the spoils of all the empires have been brought together, and that they are at the service of any one who can bring to their inspection sufficient information to appreciate their worth. It is like appraising oriental fabrics. Such an one will be likely to carry away more than he brings. A ' passage out of his " Study of Modern Languages " is a fair example of his easy familiarity with ancient and modern literatures as well as of his large-mindedness : " You all remember Du Bellay's eloquent protest, * I cannot sufficiently blame the foolish arrogance and temerity of some of our nation, who, being least of all Greeks or Latins, depreciate and reject with a more than Stoic brow everything written in French.* When this was said, Montaigne was already sixteen years old, and France had produced in Rabelais a great humorist and strangely open-eyed thinker, and in Villon a poet who had written at least one immortal poem, the burden of which falters and fades away like the last stroke of Beauty's passing-bell. I must not let you forget that Du Bellay had formed himself on the classics, and that he insists on the assiduous study of them. * Devour them,' he says, * not in order to imitate, but to turn them into blood and nutriment.* And surely this always has been and always will be their true use. . . . " It is instructive that, only fifty years after Du Bellay wrote 324 American Literature the passage I have quoted, Bishop Hall was indirectly praising Sydney for having learned in France and brought back with him to England that very specialty of culture which we are told can only be got in ancient Greece, or, at second hand in ancient Rome. And did not Spenser form himself on French and Italian models ? Did not Chaucer and Gower, the shapers of our tongue, draw from the same sources 1 " "What I would urge, therefore, is that no invidious distinction be made between the Old Learning and the New, but that students, due regard being had to their temperaments and faculties, should be encouraged to take the course in modern languages as being quite as good in point of mental discipline as any other, if pursued with the same thoroughness and to the same end. And that end is Literature, for there language first attains to full consciousness of its powers and to the delighted exercise of them. And has no page been added to it since the last ancient classic author laid down his pen ? " Where there is such wealth of resource, diversity of mood, and even variety of style it seems impertinent to take a page from a dozen volumes to represent so versatile a writer. As many pages would be required to give a glimpse of his many sides. One or two more of them only can be afforded ; the first as bearing upon the present movement toward a literary metropolis ; — the second will explain itself as another kind of movement. " The want of a focus of intellectual, political, and material activity has had more to do with the backwardness and provin- cialism of our literature than is generally taken into account. I make bold to doubt whether national consciousness will ever pour itself into and reinforce the individual consciousness in a way to make our literature feel itself of age and its own master, tiU we shall have got a common head as well as a common body. It is not the size of a city that gives it this stimulating and expanding quality, but the fact that it sums up and gathers all James Russell Lowell 32 ^ the moral and intellectual forces of a country in a single focus. London is still the metropolis of the British as Paris of the French race. We admit this readily enough as regards Australia or Canada, but we willingly overlook it as regards ourselves. Washington is growing more national and more habitable every year, but it will never be a capital till every kind of culture is attainable there on as good terms as elsewhere. Why not better than elsewhere ? We are rich enough. Bismarck's first care has been the Museums of Berlin. For a fiftieth part of the money Congress seems willing to waste in demoralizing the country, we might have had the Hamilton books and the far more precious Ashburnham manuscripts. Whatever place can draw together the greatest amount and the greatest variety of intellect and character, the most abundant elements of civilization, performs the best function of a university. London was such a centre in the days of Queen Elizabeth. And think what a school the Mermaid Tavern must have been ! " And this in another vein : " The sea was meant to be looked at from shore, as mountains are from the plain. Lucretius made this discovery long ago and was blunt enough to blurt it forth, romance and sentiment — in other words, the pretence of feeling what we do not feel — being inventions of a later day. I rather think Petrarch was the first choragus of that sentimental dance which so long led young folks away from the realities of life like the Piper of Hamelin, and whose succession ended, let us hope, with Chateaubriand. I know nothing so tedious at once and so exasperating as that regular slap of the wilted sails when the ship rises and falls with the slow breathing of the sleeping sea, one greasy, brassy swell following another, slow, smooth, unmitigable as the series of Wordsworth's * Ecclesiastical Sonnets.' Fancy an existence in which the coming up of a clumsy finback whale, who says Pooh ! to you solemnly as you lean over the taffrail, is an event as exciting as an election on shore! The dampness seems to strike into the wits as into lucifer matches, so that one may ;^26 American Literature scratch a thought half a dozen times and get nothing at last but a faint sputter. I have seen men driven to five meals a day for mental occupation. I sometimes sit and pity Noah ; but even he had this advantage over all succeeding navigators, that, wherever he landed, he was sure to get no ill news from home. He should be canonized as the patron saint of newspaper corre- spondents, being the only man who ever had the very last authentic news from everywhere." xxvm OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES The survivor of what may be called the Cambridge group of writers had, like the others, his distinctive personality and his own acre which he cultivated. The last, geo- graphically considered, was situated somewhere on a line drawn from the State House to Harvard College through Beacon street. It was always in the greater Boston, to him the centre of the universe. Intellectually the plat which he worked over was of similiar extent, but wonder- fully productive. People of the provincial town — as dis- tinguished from Lowell 's back-countrymen, — ideas of a reactionary period to be smiled at, with the exception of the liberal movement in religion, combined with certain professional theories, made up the possibilities of his out- put. His chief opportimities were successive numbers of the " Atlantic Monthly," to which he gave the name, and anniversary celebrations at Harvard. He may be said to have been bom for these last occa- sions, since on Commencement Day, 1809, his father, Eev. Abiel Holmes, wrote iu his almanac oppo- site Aug. 29, " Son b.," and sprinkling sand upon the ink probably started for the " exercises," which were in those days of greater interest to city and country than an ordiuation or a circus of the period. He was a man of renown, son-in-law and biographer of President Stiles of Yale and author of the " Annals of America," 327 328 American Literature besides being pastor of the first parish in Cambridge, not- withstanding his New Haven education. Son Oliver Wendell would have dwelt longer on his descent from the fine old families represented by these two names than can be done here, for it was one of the cardinal points of his belief that a man should be very careful in selecting his ancestors. His own were the best that New England could furnish. It was inevitable that the boy of sixteen should enter Harvard, and from a rhyming tendency already shown that he should deliver poems before the Hasty Early Verse. Pudding Club at junior exhibition and at the Commencement of 1829. His first printed collection of verse, written while a law student, is called " Eunaway Ballads," possibly from one on a proposed elopement, which contains this : " Get up ! get up ! Miss Polly Jones, the tandem 's at the door ; Get up and shake your lovely bones, it 's twelve o'clock and more ; The chaises they have rattled by and nothing stirs around, And all the world but you and me are snoring safe and sound." But at this date he could also write something as good as " Old Ironsides," and thus foreshow the twofold direc- tion in which his poetic gift would win its triumphs. As a testimony to the practical value of his early verse it should be added, that this burst of reverent patriotism in- spired the universal protest which saved the old " Consti- tution " from being broken up. Holmes found the study of medicine, for which he had abandoned that of the law, stiU less congenial to the occaiionai poetic musc, notwithstanding two years of study ^°**'^' and travel in Europe. Nothing that he saw there made him forget his beloved Boston, to which he Oliver Wendell Holmes 329 returned in 1835 to take his degree as a poet by reading at Harvard the next year a long poem entitled " Poetry, a Metrical Essay," the first of over fifty which he delivered on similar occasions during his life. He was preemi- nently the poet of occasion — celebrations, anniversaries, and public festivals. He was always ready and good- natured, being at length beyond the unpoetical suggestions of the dissecting-room or at least accustomed to them. It was in the days of the " Autocrat " that he remarks : " My friend the poet tells me he has to leave town whenever the anniversaries come round. What's the difficulty? Why, they all want him to get up and make speeches or songs or toasts, which is just the very thing he does n't want to do. But they tease him and coax him and by pressure on the weak spot of his head stupefy him to the point of acquiescence." And then he explains how the poet goes into his garden and pulls up a handful of violets and weeds with the earth sticking to them, which is his idea of a postprandial performance of which this is the first stanza of an example : " Brave singer of the coming time, Sweet minstrel of the joyous present, Crowned with the noblest wreath of rhyme, The holly leaf of Ayshire peasant, Qood-by ! Good-by ! Our hearts and hands. Our lips in honest Saxon phrases, Cry, God be with him till he stands His feet among the English daisies I " Holmes always had the rare talent of writing in his library just what would fit the after-dinner mood of the company. There was champagne in his brain. He says himself : " Song intoxicates the poet. His brain rings with it for hours or days or weeks after it has chimed itself 33^ American Literature through his consciousness." But it is not every versifier who can attain the exactly proper degree of inebriety the day before dinner, as this poet could. The extent of his possible effervescence is indicated by examples with which his readers are familiar. Each one will recall his favorite, and every one " The Humor. One-Hoss Shay," and "How the Old Horse Won the Bet," both of which betray Cavalier blood from some remote knight, or possibly from a nearer judge of horseflesh. And with the moral of the last always in mind that " A horse can trot for all he's old," he makes many a happy hit in the offerings which he brought to the narrowing circle of his classmates as they met year by year. Age could not dull the cheerful humor with which he met its steady advance. The "Class Poems" for thirty-eight years, from " Bill and Joe" in '51 to "After the Curfew" in '89, are bright with reminiscence and hopes. " So ends * The Boys,' a lifelong play, "We too must hear the prompter's call To fairer scenes and brighter day, Farewell I I let the curtain fall." Beyond all the wit and humor of his verse was the pathos which is their nearest neighbor in exalted charac- ters. It is not always possible for dull spirits to distinguish between buoyancy and levity any more than between irony and sarcasm, humor and wit. Even a book of synonyms does not help their per- ceptive faculties. But the dullest know the difference between laughter and tears, and this writer knew how to move his hearers and readers to the one or the other at wilL This, too, without pretence of art or purpose. He Oliver Wendell Holmes 33^ simply spoke out the suggestions of an April heart, with its sunshine and showers, restraining neither its gladness nor its gloom. The total effect, however, is as the joy of springtime and not the melancholy of autumn. Let those who are growing old read " In the Twilight " : *• Not bedtime yet ! The full-blown flower Of all the year — this evening hoar — With friendship's flame is bright ; Life still is sweet, the heavens are fair. Though fields are brown and woods are bare, And many a joy is left to share Before we say good-night ! " And when, our cheerful evening past, The nurse, long waiting, comes at last, Ere on her lap we lie In wearied nature's sweet repose, At peace with all her waking foes, Our lips shall murmur ere they close. Good-night ! and not good-by ! '* Holmes' verse is by no means confined to poems of sentiment. The title to those written between '49 and '65 — " Songs in Many Keys " — might be pre- Range. fixed to the entire collection in two goodly vol- umes. They range from the ploughman to the warrior, from Maid Agnes to St. Anthony, from Avis to the Old Man of the Sea, from Parson Turrell to Shakespeare. There are songs of life and labor, of present and departed days, of festival and funeral, of greeting and farewell, of times and seasons, of peace and war. Those labelled " In War Time" are characteristic of this poet, as Whittier's and Long- fellow's and Lowell's were of the way each one inter- preted its message to the nation. The manner in which different people and parties received the call to arms is 33'^ American Literature clearly stated in his " Thus saith the Lord ; " in " Never or Now," an equally clear summons to fill up the ranks ; in " One Country," the better sentiment which finally prevailed from the lakes to the gulf. Through them all loyalty to the flag, to union, and liberty runs in unmis- takable strain, of which this stanza of the " Army Hymn " is an example : " Wake in our hearts the hving fires, The holy faith that warmed our sires; Thy hand hath made our nation free; To die for her is serving thee." In « The Temple," " The Last Leaf," and " The Cham- bered Nautilus" the poet reaches the loftiest height which he attained in verse, culminating in the final stanza of the last poem : " Build thee more stately mansions, my soul, As the swift seasons roll ! Leave thy low vaulted past ! Let each new temple, nobler than the last, Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, Till thou at length art free, Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea ! " There is much said about the dead line of fifty, after crossing which a man's comfort in his work must be "The Auto- chiefly in looking backward. Holmes was "^^" within one step of this supposed Arctic circle when he began the " Autocrat " papers once more, after an interruption of twenty-five years, " to see if the ripe fruit were better or worse than the early windfalls." He found it so much better that he would never allow those two early papers in the "New England Magazine" to be re- printed. How good the rest of the reading world found Oliver Wendell Holmes 333 the entire " Breakfast Table Series " is a matter of literary history connected with the immediate success of the " At- lantic Monthly " in the hard times ofl857and later. Those who lived in those years felt that in spite of financial straits it was time for New England to laugh. It had not indulged in a general smile for two hundred and forty years. One morning a genial man invited himself to breakfast with a typical family of boarders, and began to tell them how provincial they had been keeping them- selves through all the generations. This is what he told them about their literary appetite : "These United States furnish the greatest market for intellec- tual green fruit of all the places in the world. I think so, at any rate. The demand for intellectual labor is so enormous and the market so far from nice, that young talent is apt to fare like unripe gooseberries, — get plucked to make a fool of. Think of a country which buys eighty thousand copies of th« * Proverbial Philosophy,* while the author's admiring countrymen have been buying twelve thousand I How can one let his fruit hang in the sun until it gets fully ripe while there are eighty thousand such hungry mouths ready to swallow it and proclaim its praises 1 Consequently, there never was such a collection of crude pip- pins and half-grown windfalls as our native literature displays among its fruits." Of course, readers winced, but they also profited by his observations. Besides, he told them many other and pleasanter things which he had noted. In fact, one might suppose that the " Autocrat " took the note-books in which he had been jotting down the best thoughts that had come to him in a quarter of a century and strung them upon the slightest thread of a story without much change in their form. The very dashes which precede the para- graphs are such as would be made in a note-book before 334 American Literature each disconnected section. Then the bracketed comments on his own remarks show the added material as plainly as the newly constructed dialogue. But it is all delightful. No such table-talk had appeared since the days of Hazlitt and Coleridge, "The Shepherd" and "Christopher North," and theirs was not like this. Even the personal conceit is pleasant in a talker who is his own Boswell. " You don't suppose that my remarks made at this table are like so many postage stamps, do you — each to be only once ut- tered ] If you do you are mistaken. He must be a poor crea- ture that does not often repeat himself. Imagine the author of that excellent piece of advice, ' Know thyself,' never alluding to that sentiment again during the course of a protracted exist- ence ! Why, the truths a man carries about with him are his tools, and do you think a carpenter is bound to use the same plane but oncel I shall never repeat a conversation, but an idea often.** If one should permit himself to quote a second paragraph he would not know where to stop. The richness of wisdom, the felicity of phrase, the amusing conceits, the sprightly humor, and the constant relief of change draw readers on as nothing can outside of a fascinating romance. The characters which he created for fellow boarders are of the kind to give point and direction to his talk. The landlady and her daughter, the boy called John, B. F., the old gentleman opposite, the ancient maiden, the divinity student, and himself in the guise of professor and poet make up a group fit for a society novel, with the school- mistress and the chief speaker to furnish the sentiment. No wonder that the subscription list of the "Atlantic Monthly " lengthened amazingly after the first breakfast of this remarkable company. To be sure, there were dogmatic Oliver Wendell Holmes 335 things said there which staggered readers in the "rural districts" and caused sundry denominational journals to say plainly what they regarded as the final destination of the unorthodox author, but this only made their readers curious to know what he had said, and so the demand for his talk increased with each issue. This was one of the alarming paragraphs : " Insanity is often the logic of an accurate mind overtasked. Good mental machinery ought to break its own wheels and levers, if anything is thrust among them suddenly which tends to stop them or reverse their motion. A weak mind does not accumulate force enough to hurt itself; stupidity often saves a man from going mad. We frequently see persons in insane hospitals, sent there in consequence of what are called religious mental disturbances. I confess that I think better of them than of many who hold the same notions, and keep their wits and appear to enjoy life well outside of the asylums. Any decent person ought to go mad, if he really holds such or such opinions. It is very much to his discredit if he does not. What is the use of saying what some of these opinions are 1 Perhaps more than one of you hold such as I should think ought to send you straight over to Somerville, if you have any logic in your heads or any human feeling in your hearts. Anything that is brutal, cruel, heathenish, that makes life hopeless for the most of man- kind and perhaps for entire races, — anything that assumes the extermination of instincts which were given to be regulated, — no matter by what name you call it, — no matter whether a fakir, or a monk, or a deacon believes it, — if received, ought to produce insanity in every well regulated mind." When the series was finished the demand for more con- tinued. Accordingly a second, and after a The ** Profea- while a third followed under the titles of ** The «or" and "Professor" and "The Poet at the Breakfast Table." Of these the author himself said that they were 33^ American Literature like the successive squeezings of the vintage, but some, like Lowell, preferred the second run to the first. The third had the advantage of some years* iaterval between it and the preceding one. So much cannot be said for his novels, which were the experiments of a professional in the line of his profession Fiction and ^^ iUustratc thcorles of transmission and hered- Biography. -^^^ « -g^g-^ Yenngr " has the kind of charm that is supposed to belong to the eye of a serpent. " The Guardian Angel " interests by its portrayal of provincial traits, and the " Mortal Antipathy " does not add to his re- nown. Better are his biographies of Motley and Emerson, works of sympathetic and keen appreciation. But the hurried reader will turn first to the earlier writings of the Professor and Poet in his chair at the Breakfast Table, where he is at his best and supreme. The entire series may be regarded as similar brands from the same choice vine which had its roots close by the fountains of wisdom and its branches spread to the sun- light of heaven. The warmth of a genial spirit is in them, sparkling with vivacious wit and cheerful humor, stimu- lating to other minds, and steadying them withal by its sane intelligence. It is the rarefied common sense of the refined American, alert and discreet, deft and graceful, thoughtful and conservative. His eye was keen for the vulnerable spot and the weak one. Physician for the spirit as well as the body, for the soul cramps which New England had inherited with its rheumatism, he knew that laughter at its own infirmities would give it a wholesome shaking up, even if accompanied with shrieks of protes- tation. His hatred of Calvinism and homoeopathy some- times made "Physician, heal thyself" an appropriate Oliver Wendell Holmes 337 rejoinder, but he took much cant and nonsense out of the age, and taught the difference between good taste and poor in life and letters, between pretence and reality, honesty and dishonesty, affectation and sincerity, a little knowl- edge and profound wisdom. This he accomplished in the genuine kindliness of a gracious disposition, which was humorous without bitterness and witty without malice; whose pathos never descended into bathos, having always in it the elements of cheerfulness and of hope. Accordingly his place is among the bright and happy spirits in literature to whom we turn when we wish to listen to revelations of personality like those of Montaigne and Pepys and " Kit North," or to be reminded of talk and tables at the Mer- maid Tavern, at Will's Cofifee House, at Button's, at Am- brose's, and at Essex Head. 22 XXIX HENRY DAVID THOREAU In an age of high civilization a tendency is often de- tected to break loose from its restraints and to return to Primitive primitive simplicity of living. This reversion Inclinations. ^^ primeval types is accomplished in the ordi- nary citizen's instance by " taking to the woods " for a few weeks in summer. He usually gets enough of the dry and wet side of nature to last him for the remainder of the year — sometimes longer. Or if not, he satisfies him- self and his family by the experience of the gentleman farmer on a country estate not too far from town. In both these cases, however, the divorce from custom is partial and generally brief. Canned delicacies follow the sportsman into the remotest wilds, and the self -rusticated tradesman hitches himself to a telephone wire and listens to the hum of the city. Now and then at long intervals an aboriginal man is reproduced who harks back to pris- tine methods for so long as the encroachments of civilized life permit. He used to go by the honored name of hermit ; then as a recluse, now as an odd stick, a crank, or a solitary. The last man of consequence to set up this secluded style of housekeeping was Thoreau, bom in the philoso- phers' town of old Concord, Massachusetts, as most of these, Emerson included, were not. By the strictest economies his family helped him through Harvard, where 338 Henry David Thoreau 339 he devoted himself to such studies as pleased him best. After graduation he earned a bare living by surveying, gardening, and fence building, contriving always to get half of each day off to search fields and streams and woods for any new or old word which nature had to say to him. In this way he became a practical naturalist without troubling himself with the scientific side of research, as he had always been a lover of nature's common ways, seeing in them a hundred things which he fancied that most men do not observe. In this he was frequently mistaken, as in other things, where he supposed himself to be the original discoverer. However, his own observa- tion was always as good to him as a first-class discovery, and he made the most of it. A great part of his charm as a writer is the naive simplicity with which he describes things as new that several other observers were already familiar with. But there are so many who have not observed them, and others still who would rather read about them than get their feet wet in finding them, that Thoreau will continue to be the best naturalist for readers at home. For as next to going a-fishing is to read Izaak Walton, so a pleasanter diversion than to follow in Thoreau's tracks through thick and thin is to read how he made them and to hear him tell what he saw, even if one has seen it himself. In 1845, at the age of twenty-eight, he built for himself a hut on a piece of woodland. owned by Emerson on the edge of Walden pond. There he stayed as alone as his curious friends would permit for two years or over, " to live deliberately and to front only the essential facts of life and transact some private business," as he said ; that is, to write his book entitled " A Week on the Concord 340 American Literature and Morrimac Elvers." Incidentally he also gathered material for " Walden," the other volume which was pub- lished in his lifetime. After his death friends collected other writings of his, amounting to nine volumes more. But the two first will appeal to readers as having the stamp of his own approval and consent to publish. Of these " The Week " is an account of such a boating excur- sion as any boy under fifty might be glad to make with brother or comrade on a stream running past his home. The log book of the voyage states that these two mariners weighed anchor on Saturday, a favorite day for embarking before and since the last day of August, 1839. Their fifteen-foot dory, which had already cost them a week's labor in the spring, was painted green below with a border of blue, " with reference to the two elements in which it was to spend its existence." It was also provided with wheels for transportation around falls. As became vegeta- rians, it was provisioned with potatoes and melons and furnished with cooking utensils. Enough has been said of this amphibious craft to bait the ordinary youth on to reading the first chapter or two, after which he can be counted on to finish the week. Before he gets to Friday evening he will be surprised at what is stowed away in four hundred and fourteen pages. It will show him how an artist with the pen, having knowledge and fancy, can people an everyday stream with shapes from the past, as of the soldiers and farmers who fought the first battle of the Eevolution at North Bridge on this river, or with classic phantasies from old world myths. More interesting than either are Indian traditions, the beginnings of colonial life, and the struggle between two races for the supremacy of a continent. Here waa Henry David Thoreau 341 the circle of burnt stones once the centre of a wigwam, and there the chips of quartz which an arrow-maker had left, and yonder the grave of a settler slain in his own cabin. In the midst of these tokens of border life and warfare and the story of them are interspersed bits of wisdom from what the author pretentiously terms the Bibles of the nations, from Homer, the Padma-Purana, and the Bhagavad-gita. It is this remote and foreign lore which betrays the writing under a roof, while the notes on the river and the weather, on fin and fur, might have been written for their naturalness and fidelity in the boat itself. This was his true sphere of observation and thought. When he ventures into theology, even on Sun- day, he is at disadvantage. Eeaders will prefer his portraiture of the river-men and the farmers along the banks, of the flat-boat commerce upstream and down before the railway came, and of all the shy life of bird and beast and man on the margin of the wilderness. Here is a sample from the middle of the book and voyage : "The small houses which were scattered along the river at intervals of a mile or more were commonly out of sight to us, but sometimes, when we rowed near the shore, we heard the note of a peevish hen or some slight domestic sound which betrayed them. High in the leafy bank, surrounded commonly by a small patch of corn or beans, squashes and melons and some running vine over the windows, they appeared like bee- hives set to gather honey for a summer. I have not read of any Arcadian life which surpasses the actual luxury and serenity of those New England dwellings. As you approach the sunny doorway there is no sound from these barracks of repose, and you fear that the gentlest knock may seem rude to the oriental dreamers.'* 342 American Literature Equally interesting is the account of his two years and two months' stay in the shanty by a pond, where he also wrote the bulk of " Walden ; or, Life in the Woods." The entire book is the protest of a single man against what he considers the unnecessary and self-imposed burdens of ordinary life. Even of his plain former townsmen he says: *' How many a poor immortal soul have I met well-nigh crushed and smothered under its load, creeping down the road of life, pushing before it a barn 75 feet by 40 and 100 acres of land, tillage, mowing, pasture, and wood lot ! It is a fool's life, as they will find when they get to the end of it, if not before." Accordingly, he attempts to show them how to live on nine cents a day. Some have not failed to point out that he did this by the direct or indirect assistance of those very fellow men of whom he pretended to be independent. Others have suggested that if a man chooses to live like a woodchuck, he runs the risk of becomiag like that animal in many respects. Probably the truth is, that if he has lived forty years of his life like other men, two years of aboriginal existence will not greatly harm him if he can stand it. Especially if he has books for evening companions and a pen to drive in the hours spared him by inquisitive callers. Certainly Thoreau could not have had many unemployed days, to turn off two volumes in two years after frying his potatoes and washiug his dishes. It was all very interesting to him, and he has made it charming for readers to follow his account of it, if not his example. He could be rich on ten cents a day because he had reduced his necessities to nine. He was the modern counterpart of that philosopher who, witnessing a Koman Henry David Thoreau 343 triumph, exclaimed : " How many things there are which I do not want ! " After a chapter on economy and shelter he says : " Near the end of March 1845, 1 borrowed an ax and went down to the woods by Walden Pond and began to cut some white pines for timber." He admits that it is hard to begin life without borrowing, but does not mention that the land on which he built was borrowed as well as the ax and the pine trees. The boards were bought of an Irish laborer who had worked on the railroad and was quitting his shanty. After the Fom-th of July, by the assistance of neighbors at a "raising," he was able to declare his independence of society and begin his Kobinson Crusoe life fully a mile from town. It was a good ind safe place to descant upon the failures and foibles of com- munities, since he could reach the store and the postoffice by an easy walk. For the Church he professed to have no need, and it would not have known what to do with him fifty years ago. A chapter on architecture is suggested by his simple efforts in that direction, which had resulted in "a tight shingled and plastered house, ten feet wide, fifteen feet long, and eight feet posts, with a garret and a closet, a large window on each side, two trapdoors, one door at the end, and a brick fireplace opposite," at a total cost, exclusive of his own labor, of twenty-eight dollars, twelve and one-half cents. Then follows the account of his daily fare at a cost of twenty-seven cents a week, another study in economics and dietetics which may be commended to persons having strong constitutions and a simple appetite. Eice he could devour in abundance " because he loved so well the philosophy of India," but it must have been a Yankee taste that helped down " rye 344 American Literature and Indian meal without yeast, potatoes, a very little salt pork, molasses, salt, and my drink-water." It is not improbable that the epidemic transcendental philosophy, of which he had an attack, was at the bottom of his hermit life, as it was of the Brook Farm community experiment a few miles away in Koxbury. From a few kindred spirits trying to live in unity it was but a step to a single bachelor's attempt to establish the new kingdom of separatism all by himself. It was the logic of the forefathers reduced to the absurd, and the triumph of independency — for twenty-six months. Both experi- ments were failures, and a return to common sense and the town followed. Thoreau had succeeded in showing that one can camp for over two years not far from a country store, and that he himself could meet aU the expenses of li\dng by working six weeks in a year ; but his greater success was in telling of the incidental advan- tages and disadvantages. Even his first book did not add to his income, nearly the whole edition being returned unsold. Upon this incident he wrote philosophically : " I have now a library of nine hundred volumes, seven hun- dred of which I wrote myself." But his day of recogni- tion came with the appreciative generation which followed his own. He had taken great pains to say what he knew in a clear and entertaining manner. Much time was at his command ; he was industrious and patient. That was a part of one-half. The other was the indeter- minable quantity of a native talent which does not always go with leisure and diligence and ambition. The chapter on " Eeading " in this very book shows what the writer of it thought of absorption and production. In that on " Sounds " another natural gift of observation is revealed ; Henry David Thoreau 345 in " Solitude " the capacity to fraternize with nature in all its manifestations. " There can be no very black melancholy to him who lives in the midst of nature and has his senses still. While I enjoy the friendship of the seasons I trust nothing can make life a burden to me. I find it wholesome to be alone the greater part of the time. To be in company, even with the best, is soon wearisome and dissipating. "We are for the most part more lonely when we go abroad among men than when we stay in our chambers. A man thinking or working is always alone, let him be where he will. The really diligent student in one of the crowded hives of Cambridge college is as solitary as a dervish in the desert. Society is commonly too cheap. We meet at very short intervals, not having had time to acquire any new value for each other. We meet at meals three times a day and give each other a taste of that old musty cheese that we are. Less frequency would suffice for all important and hearty communi-