UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION GIFT OF THE PUBLISHER No. 7 7/7 Received / 773- LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. GIFT Class [ \ 3 "P 74% INTRODUCTION TO AMERICAN LITERATURE INCLUDING ILLUSTRATIVE SELECTIONS WITH NOTES BY F. V. N. PAINTER, A.M., D.D. PROFESSOR OF MODERN LANGUAGES IN ROANOKE COLLEGE AUTHOR OF "A HISTORY OF EDUCATION," " HISTORY OF ENGLISH LITERATURE, " ELEMENTARY GUIDE TO LITERARY CRITICISM," " POETS OF THE SOUTH," ETC. SIBLEY & COMPANY BOSTON CHICAGO COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY LEACH, SHKWELL, & SANBORN. COPYRIGHT, 1903, BY SIBLEY & COMPANY. Norfeont? Berwick * Smith Co., Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. PREFACE. THIS work is intended to be a companion volume to the " Intro- duction to English Literature," which has been cordially received by teachers in all parts of our country. As will be seen on examination, it follows substantially the same plan, though its limited field makes a fuller treatment desirable and feasible. What was said in the preface to that work about teaching literature may be substantially repeated here. Literature can- not be learned from the ordinary manuals. While they furnish many bare facts about literature, they do not present literature itself. As a result, the student knows nothing by his own investi- gation, and his literary training is reduced to an exercise of memory. The present work aims to introduce the student to American literature itself,, with such helps as will give him an intelligent appreciation of it. The introductory chapter contains, it is hoped, some helpful observations. The " General Survey " of each period presents the conditions under which the various authors wrote. The sketches of the representative writers give with con- siderable fulness the leading biographical facts, together with a critical estimate of their works. The selections for-special study, which are chosen to illustrate the distinguishing characteristics of each author, are supplied with explanatory notes. In this way, it may fairly be claimed, the student will gain a clear and satis- factory knowledge of our best authors. . But in pursuing this method, another important result is obtained. In addition to this knowledge of our principal writers, the student learns something of the manner in which any author is to be studied. His literary taste is developed ; and in his sub- sequent studies in literature, he will be capable, in some measure at least, of forming an intelligent and independent judgment. iii 223714 IV PREFACE. It should not be forgotten that this book, as its name indicates, is but an introduction to American literature. It is not intended to be a comprehensive manual of reference. It treats only of the leading periods and principal writers. In using the book in the class-room, for which it is chiefly designed, it is not necessary that the students be restricted to the texts supplied. If time permits, it is desirable that the study of the various authors be more extended. Other texts may be introduced in their proper periods ; and for such teachers as may desire to follow this course, or to give merely a general preparation for the intelligent reading of our leading authors, an edition is published without the annotated selections. With grateful feelings for the kind reception accorded his "Introduction to English Literature," the author sends forth the present work in the hope that it may be found likewise to supply a want. F. V. N. PAINTER. ROANOKE COLLEGE, March, 1897. PREFACE TO REVISED EDITION. THE present edition has been somewhat enlarged by the intro- duction of a number of prominent authors into the text, and also by a fuller treatment of the present or " Second National Period." Greater prominence has been given to the writers of the South and the West. The lists of writers prefixed to the several periods have been rewritten and expanded. In submitting the present revised and enlarged edition, the author wishes to express the hope that it will be found still more worthy of the cordial reception that has been given the book in all parts of our country. F. V. N. PAINTER. SALEM, VIRGINIA, October 14, 1903. CONTENTS. PAGE INTRODUCTION i I. FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD 9 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 21 COTTON BATHER 26 II. SECOND COLONIAL PERIOD 32 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 43 JONATHAN EDWARDS , 53 III. REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD 61 THOMAS JEFFERSON 75 ALEXANDER HAMILTON 85 IV. FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD 95 WASHINGTON IRVING 124 JAMES FENIMORE COOPER 138 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 150 EDGAR ALLAN POE 166 RALPH WALDO EMERSON 180 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 197 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW 210 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL 227 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER 241 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES 255 V. SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD 268 vi CONTENTS. ILLUSTRATIVE SELECTIONS WITH NOTES. CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH PAGE His Capture by the Indians 325 COTTON MATHER The Voyage to New England 332 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN Preliminary Address to Poor Richard's Almanac 341 JONATHAN EDWARDS Resolutions c .... 351 THOMAS JEFFERSON Declaration of Independence 359 ALEXANDER HAMILTON The Federalist 368 WASHINGTON IRVING Rip Van Winkle 375 The Broken Heart 389 JAMES FENIMORE COOPER Escape from a Panther 399 WILLIAM CUI.LEN BRYANT Thanatopsis 407 To a Waterfowl 409 A Forest Hymn 410 To the Fringed Gentian 413 The Death of the Flowers 414 The Evening Wind 415 EDGAR ALLAN POE The Raven 423 The Masque of the Red Death 426 RALPH WALDO EMERSON Art 438 CONTENTS. vii NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE PAGE The Gray Champion 451 Fancy's Show-Box 458 HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A Psalm of Life 466 Footsteps of Angels 467 The Skeleton in Armor 468 The Arsenal at Springfield 473 The Building of the Ship 474 JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL What Mr. Robinson Thinks 491 The Present Crisis 493 The Vision of Sir Launfal 496 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER Memories 511 The Ship-Builders 513 Barclay of Ury 513 Maud Muller 519 Tauler 523 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES Old Ironsides . 529 The Last Leaf 530 The Height of the Ridiculous 531 The Chambered Nautilus 532 Contentment 533 The Deacon's Masterpiece 535 AMERICAN LITERATURE. INTRODUCTION. No other study is more important than that of literature. It not only supplies the mind with knowledge, but also refines it in thought and feeling. Literature embodies the best thought of the world, a knowledge and appreciation of which is the essential element of culture. Of all literature, that of our native or adopted country stands in closest relation to us, and naturally possesses for us the greatest interest. The term literature needs to be carefully considered, and its general and its restricted meaning clearly com- prehended. In its widest sense, literature may be re- garded as including the aggregate body of printed matter in the world. It is thus a record of the acts, thoughts, and emotions of the human family. Its magnitude ren- ders it absolutely impossible for any man ever to become acquainted with more than a very small part of it. The largest libraries, notably that of the British Museum and the Bibliothtque Nationale of Paris, number each more than a million volumes. This general or universal literature, of which we have just spoken, is obviously made up of national literatures. A national literature is composed of the literary produc- 2 * AMERI'C'AN LITERATURE. tions of a particular nation. After reaching a state of civilization, every nation expresses its thoughts and feel- ings in writing. Thus we have the literature of Greece, of Rome, of England, of America, and of other nations both ancient and modern. But the word literature has also a restricted meaning, which it is important to grasp. In any literary produc- tion we may distinguish between the thoughts that are presented, and the manner in which they are presented. We may say, for example, " The sun is rising; " or, ascend- ing to a higher plane of thought and emotion, we may present the same fact in the language of Thomson : " But yonder comes the powerful King of Day, Rejoicing in the east. The lessening cloud, The kindling azure, and the mountain's brow Illumed with fluid gold, his near approach Betoken glad." 1 It is thus apparent that the interest and value of litera- ture are largely dependent upon the manner or form in which the facts are presented. In its restricted sense, literature includes only those works that are polished or artistic in form. The classic works of a literature are those which present ideas of general and permanent in- terest in a highly finished or artistic manner. Literature is influenced or determined by whatever af- fects the thought and feeling of a people. Among the most potent influences that determine the character of a literature, whether taken in a broad or in a restricted sense, are race, epoch, and surroundings. This fact should be well borne in mind, for it renders a philosophy of litera- ture possible. We cannot fully understand any literature, J The Seasons. Summer, line 81. INTR ODUC T1ON. 3 nor justly estimate it, without an acquaintance with the national traits of the writers, the general character of the age in which they lived, and the physical and social con- ditions by which they were surrounded. This fact shows the intimate relation between literature and history. It has been questioned whether we have an American literature. But there is no reasonable ground for doubt. A fair survey of the facts will show that the literature of this country is distinctive in its thought and feeling. Our best works are not an echo of the literature of England, but a new and valuable contribution to the literature of the world. The best of Irving's writings, the tales of Hawthorne, the " Evangeline " and " Hiawatha " of Long- fellow, not to mention many others, are filled with Amer- ican scenery, American thought, and American character. During the first two centuries of our history, while Shakespeare, Bacon, Milton, Dryden, Pope, Addison, John- son, and Goldsmith were adding lustre to English letters, our country produced but few works that deserve a place in classic literature. It could hardly have been otherwise. Our people were devoting their energies chiefly to the great task of subduing a wild continent, building towns and cities, producing mechanical inventions, conquering political independence, and establishing a social order based on the principle of human equality and human free- dom. These achievements are no less important than the production of an elegant literature, and really form the basis upon which the arts and sciences naturally rest. Material prosperity and political independence bring the leisure and culture that foster letters. It was so in the age of Pericles, of Augustus, of Elizabeth, and of Louis XIV. 4 AMERICAN LITERATURE. The literature of America is the youngest of national literatures. While we must seek its beginnings in the early part of the seventeenth century, it is scarcely more than two generations ago that our literature entered upon a vigorous development. Though there are two great names in the eighteenth century, those of Franklin and Edwards, our polite literature really begins with Irving, Bryant, and Cooper, in the first quarter of the nineteenth century. This is a recent date in comparison with the literature of the leading nations of Europe. The literary history of England extends through no fewer than twelve centuries ; and already five hundred years ago it had produced in Chaucer one of the world's great writers. The literary history of France covers an equally extended period ; and already in the Middle Ages it counted several famous epics. In Germany the great " Nibelungen Lied " was composed in the twelfth century. While it is true that we are " heirs of all the ages," and as such have inherited the literary treasures of the. past, the growth of our literature has been too short to realize the fulness of power that will come with greater maturity of age. During the nineteenth century, American literature had a remarkable development. In various departments history, criticism, poetry it fairly vied with that of the mother country. Yet our highest literary achievements probably lie in the future. With a territory capable of supporting a population of five hundred millions, the task of the American people is not yet half accomplished. Material interests and social problems will continue, it may be for a long time, to absorb a large part of the best talent of our land. We are at present living our epic INTRODUCTION. 5 poem, the greatest the world has seen. But after this period of ardent striving and conflict is past, our golden age will come; and, having time to listen, we shall, per- haps, encourage some Homer or Milton to sing. No other country seems to present more favorable conditions for the development of a great literature. The most interesting factor in literature is the human element, the presentation of the thoughts, emotions, and experi- ences of men. As literature naturally reflects national life, the nature of this element depends upon the culture and experience of the people. Nowhere else has life been more varied and more intense than in America ; and no- where else, in the years to come, will it afford richer and more picturesque materials. American literature is an offshoot of English litera- ture, and shares the life of the parent stock. It uses the same language ; and its earliest writers were colonists who had received their education in England. The culture of this country is distinctively English in origin and char- acter ; the differences are but modifications growing out of the new environment. We owe our laws and our reli- gion chiefly to England ; and the political independence achieved through the Revolution did not withdraw us from the humanizing influence of English letters. In recent years, through the importation of French, German, and Russian books, our literary culture, as in other progressive countries, has become more cosmopolitan in character. But before that time, our reading was con^ fined almost exclusively to English authors. The great English classics, from Chaucer down, we justly claim as our natural heritage. The leading movements in the lit erary history of England have been reflected in America 6 AMERICAN LITERATURE. In many cases a similarity of thought and style may be traced, as between Goldsmith and Irving, Scott and Cooper, Carlyle and Emerson. But this resemblance has not risen from feeble or conscious imitation ; it has not interfered with the individuality of our authors, nor 5m paired the excellence of their works. The literary history of our country may be divided into several periods, the general character of which is more or less sharply defined, though their limits naturally shade into one another by almost imperceptible degrees. The first period, which includes nearly the whole of the sev- enteenth century, may be called the First Colonial Period. The principal productions of this period represent, not American, but English, culture, and are concerned chiefly with a description of the New World, with the story of its colonization, or with a discussion of the theological questions that grew out of the great Protestant Reforma- tion in Europe. The next period, beginning with the eigh- reenth century, and extending to the Revolution, may be known as the Second Colonial Period. In the literature of this period, American life is reflected more fully, and two writers, Franklin and Edwards, stand out with great prominence. Then follows what we may designate the Revolutionary Period, extending from the Revolution to the War of 1812. The dominant influence in this period was the establishment of a new and independent govern- ment. Here belong the names of Washington, Jefferson, Hamilton, Madison, and Jay. This was followed by an era of literary bloom, which may be characterized as the First National Period. It covers the time lying between the War of 1812 and the Civil War, and furnishes the be- ginning of what is called polite literature, or belles-lettres^ in INTRODUCTION. f this country. To this period belong the greatest names of our literary history, Irving, Cooper, Bryant, Hawthorne, Longfellow, and others. Lastly, we have the present pe- riod, which for convenience may be called the Second Na- tional Period. It begins with the Civil War, and exhibits a broad cosmopolitan tendency. Though it has produced but few writers of pre-eminent ability, it is characterized by unexampled literary activity, and by great excellence of literary form. FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD. REPRESENTATIVE WRITERS. JOHN SMITH. COTTON MATHER. (See sketches at the close of this section.) OTHER WRITERS. VIRGINIA. WILLIAM STRACHEY, born 1585; secretary of the Virginia Colony 1610- 1612. Wrote " Wracke and Redemption of Sir Thomas Gates," and " Historic of Travaile into Virginia." GEORGE SANDYS (1577-1644). Removed to America in 1621, and became treasurer of the Virginia Colony. Translated in Virginia ten books of Ovid's " Metamorphoses." ALEXANDER WHITAKER (i588-after 1613). An Episcopal clergyman who came to Virginia in 1611. He baptized Pocahontas, and officiated at her marriage. He wrote "Good Newes from Virginia," one of the first books written in the colony. NEW ENGLAND. WILLIAM BRADFORD (1588-1657). One of the Mayflower colonists, gov- ernor of Plymouth for many years. " History of Plymouth Colony " from 1620 to 1647. JOHN WINTHROP (1588-1649). Came to Massachusetts in 1630, and was governor for many years. "History of New England" from 1630 to 1649. JOHN COTTON (1585-1652). Educated at Trinity College, Cambridge. Migrated to Boston in 1633, and became pastor of the P'irst Church. A distinguished preacher. " Singing of Psalms a Gospel Ordinance." 9 10 AMERICAN LITERATURE. EDWARD JOHNSON (1599-1672). Came to New Englan 1 in 1630. Was a representative in the General Court or legislature of Massachusetts for several terms, " Wonder-working Providence of Zion's Saviour in New England." JOHN ELIOT (1604-1690). Graduated at Cambridge in 1623, and came to Boston in 1631. "The Apostle to the Indians," into whose language he translated the Bible. In 1660 he published in England, "The Christian Commonwealth ; or, The Civil Policy of the Rising Kingdom of Jesus Christ." ANNE BRADSTREET (1612-1672). Wife of Governor Bradstreet. The earliest writer of verse in America. Her first volume was published in England under the title, "The Tenth Muse lately Sprung up in America." INCREASE MATHER (1638-1723), Graduated at Harvard in 1656; took his M.A. degree at Trinity College, Dublin. Pastor of Second Church in Boston ; for sixteen years (1685-1701) president of Harvard College. His publications number one hundred and sixty. FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD. (1607-1689.) GENERAL SURVEY. The English were slow in estab- lishing colonies in the New World. While Spain was subduing Mexico and a large part of South America, they remained comparatively inactive. The French were ahead of them in Canada. But when at last the English under- took the work of colonization, the Anglo-Saxon vigor as- serted its superiority, and took possession of the fairest part of the American continent. From insignificant and unpromising beginnings, the English colonies rapidly de- veloped into a great nation, rivalling the mother country not only in commercial interests, but also in science and literature. The English occupation of this country began early in the seventeenth century with the establishment of two colonies, which were as different in character as they were widely removed from each other in space. The first of these colonies was founded in 1607 at Jamestown in Vir- ginia; the other in 1620 at Plymouth in New England. Both settlements, in their subsequent development, were destined to play an important part in the political and lit- erary history of our country. In a measure they repre- sented two different tendencies in politics and religion : the Virginia colonists upholding the Church of England 11 12 AMERICAN LITERATURE. and standing by the king ; the New England colonists fa- voring a change in the English Church, and adhering to the Parliament. The one was thus conservative, the other progressive, characteristics that are perceptible at the present day. Virginia. It is beyond the scope of the present work to follow in detail the various trials and vicissitudes of the young settlement at Jamestown. The story is well known. Nearly the whole century was consumed in getting the colony firmly on its feet. For a time disease carried off a large number of the colonists and discouraged the rest. The Indians frequently became unfriendly, and made re- peated attempts to massacre the colonists. Many of the governors were incompetent and selfish ; and the energies of the people were at times wasted by dissension and strife. One man alone, during this- early period, was able to plan and execute wisely ; and that was Captain John Smith. At various times during the century the colony re- ceived new accessions of immigrants. After the Civil War in England, and the establishment of the Protector- ate under Cromwell, many of the Royalists, adherents of Charles I., sought a home in the New World, and gave a distinct Cavalier tone to Virginia society. The man- ners of the mother country were in a measure reproduced. " The Virginia planter was essentially a transplanted Eng- lishman in tastes and convictions, and emulated the social amenities and the culture of the mother country. Thus in time was formed a society distinguished for its refine- ment, executive ability, and generous hospitality, for which the Ancient Dominion is proverbial." 1 1 Winsor, Narrative and Critical History of America, Vol. III., p. 153. FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD. 13 It will be readily understood that the conditions in Vir- ginia during this period were not favorable to the produc- tion of literature. For the greater part of the first century, after the planting of the colony, the energies of the people were almost entirely absorbed in the difficult work of es- tablishing for themselves a permanent home. This task included not only the building of houses and the clearing of farms, but also the subduing of hostile and treacherous tribes of Indians. Under the stress of this toilsome and dangerous life, there could be but little leisure for the cultivation of literature as an art. The writings of the time were, for the most part, of a practical nature, designed either to preserve the history of the planting of the young nation, or to acquaint the people of the mother country with the wonders of the New World. In addition to these unfavorable surroundings, it can hardly be claimed that the social conditions in Virginia, during the period under consideration, were likely to foster literary taste and literary production. The colonists, de- voted to tobacco-planting and agriculture, settled on large plantations. There were no towns ; and even Jamestown, the capital, had at the close of the century only a state- house, one church, and eighteen private dwellings. But little attention was paid to education. There is scarcely any mention of schools before 1688; and learning fell into such general neglect that Governor Spottswood in 1715 reproached the colonial assembly for having fur- nished two of its standing committees with chairmen who could not " spell English or write common sense." There was no printing-press in Virginia before 1681 ; and the printer was required to give bond not to print anything " until his Majesty's pleasure shall be known." For 14 AMERICAN LITERATURE. nearly forty years of this period, from 1641 to 1677, Sir William Berkeley exerted his influence and power " in fa- vor of the fine old conservative policy of keeping subjects ignorant in order to keep them submissive." 1 When questioned in 1670 about the condition of Virginia, he said : " I thank God there are no free schools nor print- ing ; and I hope we shall not have, these hundred years ; for learning has brought disobedience, and heresy, and sects into the world, and printing has divulged them, and libels against the best government. God keep us from both." 2 Surely under these circumstances there was but little encouragement to literature. Toward the close of the period before us, a growing interest in higher education resulted, in 1692, in the founding of the College of William and Mary, the oldest institution of learning in the South, and, after Harvard, the oldest in the United States. It received a cordial support not only in Virginia, but also in England. The lieutenant-governor headed the subscription list with a generous gift, and his example was followed by other prominent members of the colony. After the sum of twenty-five hundred pounds had thus been raised, the Rev. James Blair was sent to England to solicit a charter for the institution. This was readily granted ; and as a fur- ther evidence of the royal favor, the quit-rents yet due in the colony, amounting to nearly two thousand pounds, were turned over to the college. For its further support, twenty thousand acres of land were set apart for its use, and a tax of a penny a pound was laid on all tobacco ex- ported from Virginia and Maryland to other American 1 Tyler, History of American Literature, p. 89. 2 Campbell, History of Virginia, p. 273. COLONIAL PERIOD. 1^ colonies. The college was located at William sburg ; and the Rev. James Blair, who had been active in securing its establishment, was chosen as its first president. In the language of the charter, the college was founded " to the end that the Church of Virginia may be furnished with a seminary of ministers of the Gospel, and that the youth may be piously educated in good letters and manners, and that Christian faith may be propagated among the western Indians to the glory of God." The founding of this col- lege, though without influence upon literature during the First Colonial Period, supplied in the next century a num- ber of men who became illustrious in the political and literary history of their country. New England. Thirteen years after the founding of Jamestown, the Mayflower, with one hundred and two colonists, landed at Plymouth. They were Puritans, who for the sake of conscience first exiled themselves in Hol- land ; and there considering that their nationality would finally be lost among the hospitable Dutch, they heroi- cally resolved to migrate to the New World. They recog- nized the difficulties of the undertaking ; but, as one of their number tells us, it was replied that "all great and honorable actions are accompanied with great difficulties, and must be both enterprised and overcome with answer- able courages." Religion was a dominant factor in the character of the Puritans. In coming to America, they sought a refuge where, to use their own language, they " might glorify God, do more good to their country, better provide for their posterity, and live to be more refreshed by their labors." They were thorough-going Protestants ; but in their adherence to Scripture they fell into Hebrew rigor 1 6 AMERICAN LITERATURE. They not only abstained from all forms of immorality, but they discountenanced innocent pleasures. Notwithstanding the difficulties which attended their settlement, the rigor of the climate, the hostility of the Indians, and the interference of foes abroad, the Puri- tan colony rapidly grew in numbers and influence. The despotism of Charles I. and the persecution instigated by Archbishop Laud drove some of the best people of Eng- land to seek religious and political freedom in the colony of Massachusetts. By the year 1640 the colony numbered more than twenty thousand persons, distributed in about fifty towns and villages. Tyranny had made them friends of constitutional government. In spite of superstition and religious intolerance, - evils belonging to the age, New England was from the start the friend of popular intelligence and social prog- ress. The printing-press was introduced in 1639; an d though it was kept under close supervision, it was not allowed to remain entirely inactive. The Puritans deserve the credit of being the first community in Christendom to make ample provision for the instruction of the people. " In the laws establishing common schools, lies the secret of the success and character of New England. Every child, as it was born into the world, was lifted from the earth by the genius of the country, and, in the statutes cf the land, received, as its birthright, a pledge of the public care for its morals and its mind." In order that the Scriptures might be properly under- stood, and that learning might not be buried in the grave of their fathers, as the Act of the General Court stated, it was ordered in 1647 in all the Puritan colonies, "that i Bancroft, History of the United States, Vol. I., p. 459. FIXST COLONIAL PERIOD. I/ every township, after the Lord hath increased them to fifty householders, shall appoint one to teach all children to write and read ; and when any town shall increase to the number of one hundred families, they shall set up a grammar school ; the masters thereof being able to instruct youth so far as they may be fitted for the university." Harvard College, the oldest institution of learning in the United States, was founded in 1636. In that year the Massachusetts assembly " agreed to give four hundred pounds towards a school or college." This appropriation was equivalent to the colony tax for one year, and from this point of view would equal at the present time several millions of dollars. Newtown, which was afterwards changed to Cambridge in memory of the English univer- sity town, was chosen as the site of the new college. When John Harvard, who died shortly after the founding of the college, bequeathed to it his library and one-half of his estate, his name was associated with the institution, which was destined to exert an untold influence upon the literary history of our country. We can now understand the literary pre-eminence of New England. From the first it was colonized by an earnest body of men of unusual intelligence. They lived together in towns, where perpetual contact sharpened their wits, and kept them in sympathy with subjects of common interest. Their attitude to religion led them to theological discussion. With some conception at least of the magnitude and far-reaching results of their undertak- ing, they minutely noted the facts of their experience, and sought to build a solid political structure. The tasks im- posed upon them, as well as their novel and picturesque surroundings, stimulated their minds to the highest ac- IS AMERICAN LITERATURE. tivity. From their surroundings and character we would not expect artistic form. They hardly thought of litera- ture as a fine art. But in their literature we find a manly strength and intense earnestness of purpose. The seventeenth century produced a large number of writers in New England. Most of their works, however, are of interest now only to the antiquarian or specialist. No masterpiece of literature, such as the Puritan Milton produced in England, appeared to adorn American letters. The first book printed was the " Bay Psalm Book," a rude rendering of the Hebrew. As the preface informs us, "It hath been one part of our religious care and faithful endeavor to keep close to the original text. If, therefore, the verses are not always so smooth and elegant as some may desire or expect, . . . we have respected rather a plain translation than to smooth our verses with the sweet- ness of any paraphrase ; and so have attended conscience rather than elegance, fidelity rather than poetry." After this introduction we are not much surprised to read the following version of Psalm XIX. : " The heavens doe declare the majesty of God: also the firmament shews forth his handywork abroad. Day speaks to day, knowledge night hath to night declar'd. There neither speach nor language is, where their voyce is not heard. Through all the earth their line is gone forth, & unto the utmost end of all the world, their speaches reach also : A Tabernacle hee in them pitcht for the Sun, FIRST COLONIAL PERIOD. 19 Who Bridegroom like from's chamber goes glad Giants-race to run. From heavens utmost end, his course and compassing; to ends of it, & from the heat thereof is hid nothing." Both in Virginia and New England the range of subjects is limited. The life of the times, as in every age, is re- flected in its literary works. Not aesthetic enjoyment but practical utility is the end aimed at. A glance at the titles of the principal works of this period, as given in the pre- ceding list of writers, will show that narration and descrip- tion, history, religion, and theology, and civil administration were the principal themes. And in their treatment we find abundance and force rather than self-restraint and perfection of form. To these remarks, however, there are at least two im- portant exceptions one in each colony. Amid the suffer- ings, hardships, and dangers of establishing a home on this wild continent, two souls still sought opportunity to culti- vate the muse of poetry. The first was George Sandys, who, coming to Virginia in 1622, there completed his translation of the fifteen books of Ovid's " Metamorpho- ses." "This book," to use the words of Tyler, "may well have for us a sort of sacredness, as being the first monument of English poetry, of classical scholarship, and of deliberate literary art, reared on these shores. And when we open the book, and examine it with reference to its merits, first, as a faithful rendering of the Latin text, and, second, as a specimen of fluent, idiomatic, and musical English poetry, we find that in both particulars it is a work that we may be proud to claim as in some sense our own, and to honor as the morning-star at once of poetry 2O AMERICAN LITERATURE. and of scholarship in the new world ! " A few lines must suffice for illustration : "The Golden Age was first; which uncompeld And without rule, in faith and truth exceld, As then there was no punishment nor fear; Nor threat'ning laws in brass prescribed were; Nor suppliant crouching prisoners shook to see Their angrie judge." The other exception to the prevalent utilitarian author- ship was Mrs. Anne Bradstreet of Massachusetts, who was known as " the tenth muse lately sprung up in America." She found time, even among the cares of rearing eight children, to acquire considerable stores of learning. She was well versed in ancient history. In her poetry learning, it must be confessed, frequently supplanted inspiration. Sometimes we meet with a rather startling bit of realism, as when, in speaking of winter, she says : " Beef, brawn, and pork are now in great'st request, And solid'st meats our stomachs can digest." But she loved nature ; and in her descriptions of flowers, and birds, and streams, she often reaches the plane of genuine poetry. Her moralizing is naturally in the sombre Puritan vein. In her " Contemplations," a moral and de- scriptive poem of no slight excellence, she sings : " Under the cooling shade of a stately elm Close sate I by a goodly river's side, Where gliding streams the rocks did overwhelm; A lonely place, with pleasures dignified. I once that lov'd the shady woods so well, Now thought the rivers did the trees excel, And if the sun would ever shine, there would I dwell." are tkeJLlfltS that jht\ thy TaCe but hat pie w thy &rO.Cc #n 36 AMERICAN LITERATURE. mortal and undecayed, was spreading towards the New World. Bishop Berkeley, in prophetic vision, foretold a "golden age," when the arts would flourish, and when a race of " wisest heads and noblest hearts " would be born : "Not such as Europe breeds in her decay, Such as she bred when fresh and young v When heavenly flame did animate her clay, By future poets shall be sung. Westward the course of empire takes its way: The first four acts already past, A fifth shall close the drama with the day; Time's noblest offspring is the last." In England it was believed that the colonial leaders were secretly meditating and planning independence. Though this was undoubtedly a mistake, yet a growing national feeling is clearly discernible in the utterances and relations of the colonies. It could not well be other- wise in the presence of their increasing prosperity and promising future, and of the strengthening ties that bound them together. The colonists were chiefly of Teutonic origin. They came to this country as voluntary exiles in order to escape religious or political oppression, and were thus united by the sympathy of suffering and sacrifice. For the most part they used the English language; and though there were Puritans, Episcopalians, Quakers, Hu- guenots, and Presbyterians, they were nearly all warm adherents of Protestantism. Yet, in spite of these strong affinities, the colonies were for a long time jealous and distrustful of one another. Their interests were not re- garded as common ; and without the pressure of external circumstances they would probably have remained a long time separated. SECOND COLONIAL PERIOD. 37 This external pressure, which was necessary to bring the colonies into closer relationship, was not lacking. It came from two opposite sources. In the first place, the policy of England was admirably adapted to develop a spirit of freedom, and to unite the colonies in a common resistance of oppression. At that time it was the prevail- ing view abroad that the colonies existed solely for the benefit of the mother country. Consequently, the meas- ures of government were adopted, not for the welfare of the colonies, but for the profit of England. This unjust policy naturally provoked opposition in a people who had abandoned home and country for the sake of freedom. The other influence impelling the colonies to confede- ration came from the ambitious schemes of France. As will have been noticed, the English colonies extended along the Atlantic seaboard from Maine to Florida. Though their territory theoretically extended across the continent, their settlements did not reach inland more than a hundred miles. To prevent the further extension of the English colonies, the French formed the magnifi- cent plan of occupying the interior of the continent, and thus of confining their enemies to a narrow belt on the Atlantic coast. They already had possession of Canada ; and ascending the St. Lawrence, they established forts and trading-posts along the southern shores of the Great Lakes, and thence down the Mississippi to New Orleans. Having discovered the Mississippi, they laid claim to all the territory drained by its waters ; that is to say, to the magnificent empire lying between the Alleghany and the Rocky Mountains. " If the French," wrote the governor of New York in 1687, "have all that they pretend to have discovered in these parts, the king of England will not 38 AMERICAN LITERATURE. have a hundred miles from the sea anywhere." A con- flict between the English and the French thus became inevitable ; and the stake involved was nothing less than the life of the English colonies, and the possession of the American continent. In the presence of this conflict, the instinct of self-preservation drew the colonies into closer sympathy and union. The struggle between England and France for the possession of America a struggle that lasted with inter- missions for more than seventy years began in 1689, the dividing-point between the two colonial periods. First came King William's War, when Louis XIV. espoused the cause of James II., and Count Frontenac was sent to be governor of Canada, with orders to conquer New York. Then followed in quick succession Queen Anne's War, or the War of the Spanish Succession ; King George's War, or the War of the Austrian Succession ; and lastly, the Seven Years' War, or the French and Indian War. These various wars, as their names generally indicate, grew out of conflicting European interests ; but since England and France, as hostile nations, were invariably opposed to each other, their colonies in America were always drawn into the conflict. The course of these successive wars, with their varying fortunes and sickening massacres, cannot here be followed in detail. With the Treaty of Paris in 1763 the conflict in America. finally came to an end by the cession of Canada and the Mississippi Valley to Eng- land. At one blow the French possessions in America and French schemes for a great western empire were forever swept away. Had the issue of this protracted struggle been in favor of France, the course of American history and of Ameri- SECOND COLONIAL PERIOD. 39 can literature would have been very different. French colonization in America represented three distinct tenden- cies, from all of which the English colonists had broken away. First of all, in direct antagonism against popular government, Louis XIV. stood for despotism. His atti- tude toward France is indicated in his famous saying, " L ' Etat cest moi" In the second place, the colonization undertaken by the French carried with it the feudal sys- tem. Instead of the political and social equality recognized and encouraged in the English colonies, it meant the class system of nobles and inferiors. In the third place, the success of the French meant the establishment of a wholly different form of belief and worship. The most enter- prising and devoted of the French explorers were Jesuits, whose self-sacrificing work among the Indians sometimes reached the highest point of heroism. In short, if the French schemes had been successful, the result would have been, as was contemplated, a new mediaeval France, which in its development, having possession of the largest and fairest part of the continent, would have driven the English colonies into the Atlantic Ocean. The first step towards a general union of the American colonies was taken in 1684. The French had encroached upon the territory of the Five Nations in New York ; and in preparation for the inevitable conflict, the Indians de- sired to form a treaty of peace with the English. Accord- ingly, a convention composed of delegates from Virginia, Maryland, New York, and Massachusetts, met at Albany. For the first time, the northern and the southern colonies came together to consider the common welfare. The con- ference resulted in a treaty ; and the Mohawk chief at its conclusion spoke better than he knew when he said : " We 40 AMERICAN LITERATURE. now plant a tree whose top will reach the sun, and its branches spread far abroad, so that it shall be seen afar off, and we shall shelter ourselves under it, and live in peace without molestation." The necessity of a closer general union gradually be- came more apparent. In 1698 William Penn proposed a plan of federation. In 1754 the Convention of Albany, composed of representatives from six of the colonies, re- solved that a union ought to be formed, and accordingly recommended the adoption of a constitution, the outlines of which had been drawn up by Franklin. But this con- stitution was disapproved in England, because it allowed too much freedom to the colonies ; and it was rejected by the colonies, because it gave too much authority to Eng- land. Thus, though the sentiment of union was steadily growing, it did not reach full practical realization. That consummation, which was to mark the birth of the Amer- ican nation, was reserved for the following period. The changed conditions of American life during this period exerted a salutary influence upon literature. While the conditions were far from being ideal, they marked a considerable advance upon those of the earlier period, and thus gave a broader scope and better form to literary productions. The hard and unceasing struggle for exis- tence characteristic of the greater part of the first colonial period had given place to comparative ease and comfort. While there was but little accumulation of wealth, there were, especially in the older colonies, many comfortable homes, in which books and leisure supplied the opportunity for culture. Several considerable cities Boston, New York, and Philadelphia served in some degree as lit- erary centres. The growing number of schools added to SECOND COLONIAL PERIOD. 41 the popular intelligence. The newspapers furnished topics for general thought and discussion, while the closer relations and larger interests of the colonies gave a wider horizon to the intellectual life of the people. As will be seen on examining the list of writers prefixed to this period, the development of American literature followed the growth of the colonies. The middle colonies, New York, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania, now come into prominence. Though Franklin and Edwards, who have been chosen for special study as representative writers, were born in New England, they both ended their lives in the middle colonies. Franklin's great life was spent chiefly in Philadelphia. The tide of authorship extended southward from Virginia; and in the Carolinas and Georgia there were men who could wield the pen as well as the axe and the sword. As might be naturally expected, there is a gradual ex- tension of the range of subjects, and a perceptible ad- vancement in the matter of style. Though historical and theological subjects are still predominant, philosophy, science, and literary miscellany receive increasing atten- tion. Authors become more numerous, and the number of writers in verse is surprising. The influence of the Queen Anne writers Dryden, Pope, Addison is dis- cernible in an improved literary form. Franklin formed his style after the Spectator, and we catch an echo of Pope in Livingston's " Philosophic Solitude" :- " Let ardent heroes seek renown in arms, Pant after fame, and rush to war's alarms; To shining palaces let fools resort, And dunces cringe to be esteemed at court; Mine be the pleasure of a rural life, From noise remote, and ignorant of strife; 42 AMERICAN LITERATURE. Far from the painted belle, and white-gloved beau, The lawless masquerade, and midnight show; From ladies, lap-dogs, courtiers, garters, stars, Fops, fiddlers, tyrants, emperors, and czars." This period saw the birth of the first American drama, a tragedy entitled " The Prince of Parthia," and written by Thomas Godfrey. It is an Oriental story of love, lust, jealousy, murder, ruin. It is cast in the large mould of the Elizabethan dramatists, and its style shows that the author had studied Shakespeare to good purpose. Take the following passage in illustration of its poetic vigor : " Vardanes. Heavens ! what a night is this ! Lysias. 'Tis tilled with terror; Some dread event beneath this horror lurks, Ordained by fate's irrevocable doom; Perhaps Arsaces' fall; and angry heaven Speaks it in thunder to the trembling world. Vardanes. Terror indeed ! It seems as sickening Nature Had given her order up to general ruin: The heavens appear as one continued flame; Earth with her terror shakes; dim night retires, And the red lightning gives a dreadful day, While in the thunder's voice each sound is lost. Fear sinks the panting heart in every bosom; E'en the pale dead, affrighted at the horror, As though unsafe, start from their marble jails, And howling through the streets are seeking shelter." ^ ^ . ^ BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 43 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. No other American, excepting only the Father of his Coun- try, is more interesting to people of every class than Benjamin Franklin. His popularity has been extraordinary. Since his death, a little more than a hundred years ago, no decade has passed without the publication of a biography or a new edition of his works. His " Autobiography," the most popular histori- cal work of America, possesses a perennial interest. It is re- plete not only with interesting incident, but also with genial humor and profound practical wisdom. The facts of his life are so well known that it is not neces- sary to dwell upon them. He was born in Boston, Jan. 17, 1706 the youngest of an old-fashioned family of ten children. From his father, who was a candlemaker and soap-boiler, he inherited not only a strong physical constitution, but his " solid judgment in prudential matters." He attended the free gram- mar schools of Boston about a year, and gave promise of becoming a good scholar ; but owing to the straitened cir- cumstances of his father, he was taken away in order to cut wicks, mould candles, and run errands all which he heartily disliked. From childhood he was passionately fond of reading, and he used the little money that came into his hands to buy books. His first purchase was Bunyan's " Pilgrim's Progress," which after being read and re-read was sold to buy Burton's " Histori- cal Collections " a class of writings of which he was specially fond. Among the books of his early reading were Plutarch's "Lives " and Mather's "Essay to do Good," which he specially mentions as exerting a salutary influence upon his mind and character. He did not escape the common temptation of book- 44 AMERICAN LITERATURE. ish youths to attempt poetry, and wrote two ballads which, in spite of a flattering success at the time, he afterwards charac- terized, and no doubt justly, as " wretched stuff." From the danger of becoming a sorry poet he was timely rescued by his father, who with Philistine coldness called his attention to the fact that " verse-makers were generally beggars." But his literary instincts were not to be quenched ; and though he gave up poetry, he cultivated prose with great ardor. To increase his fluency, he was accustomed to engage in dis- cussion with another literary lad by the name of Collins ; but he had the good sense to escape the disputatious habit which this practice is in danger of developing, and which wise people, he tells us, seldom fall into. He modelled his style after Addi- son's Spectator, which was then a novelty in the colonies. But he had too much force of mind and character to become a mere imitator; and through a laborious apprenticeship he developed a style that is admirable for its simplicity, clearness, and force. He was early encouraged in his literary efforts. At the age of twelve he had been apprenticed to his brother James to learn the printing business. Here he worked on the New Eng- land Courant, the second newspaper that appeared in America. Some of the contributors occasionally met in the office to dis- cuss the little essays that had appeared in the paper. Having caught the mania for appearing in print, and fearing to have his productions rejected if the authorship were known, he dis- guised his hand, wrote an anonymous paper, and slipped it at night under the door of the printing-house. It was found next morning, and discussed by the little company that called in as usual. "They read it," he says, "commented on it in my hear- ing, and I had the exquisite pleasure of finding it met with their approbation, and that, in their different guesses at the author, none were named but men of some character among us for learning and ingenuity." It is not strange that he continued his anonymous communications for some time. The apprenticeship, though not till he had mastered the BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 45 printer's trade, came to an abrupt termination. Long dissatis- fied with the ill-treatment received from his brother, who was a high-tempered, overbearing man, he at last ran away at the age of seventeen. He landed first at New York ; and failing to find employment there, he continued his journey to Philadel- phia. The figure he cut that first Sunday morning as he walked the streets with a roll under each arm, and excited the laughter of the young lady he afterwards married, is familiar to every one. He found employment, and attracted the notice of Gov- ernor Keith, who after a time persuaded him to go to England for a printer's outfit. On reaching England, he found that he had been duped by Keith, who belonged to that class of men lavish in promises but miserly in help. The letter of credit which the governor had promised was wanting. In his embarrassment, Franklin was advised by a prudent business man whom he had met on the vessel, to seek employment at his trade. "Among the printers here," his friend argued, "you will improve yourself, and when you return to America, you will set up to greater advantage." This advice he wisely followed, and successively worked in two large printing-houses, where he used his eyes to good advantage. He practised his usual industry and temper- ance, and commanded the respect of his associates. After spending eighteen months in London, where his life morally was far from being a model, he received an advanta- geous offer to return to Philadelphia and enter a store as clerk. After a promising beginning, this arrangement was in a few months brought to an end by the merchant's death. Franklin then returned to printing, and engaged with Keimer, for whom he had worked before going to England. The deficiencies of the printing-office were supplied by Franklin's ingenuity ; for he cast type, prepared engravings, made ink, was "warehouse man, and, in short, quite a factotum" But as he taught the other workmen of the office, among whom were " a wild Irish- man " and "an Oxford scholar," his services became less ne- cessary ; and on the first opportunity his employer provoked a 46 AMERICAN LITERATURE. quarrel, and brought the engagement to an end. This led to Franklin's setting up for himself; and he now entered upon a career of uninterrupted prosperity, which was to continue for more than sixty years. But in the midst of his business projects, he did not neglect his literary culture. He formed a club, which was called the Junto, and to which most of his friends of literary taste, be- longed. Its object was mutual impiovement by means of es- says and discussions. For greater convenience of reference, a library was formed, each member of the club loaning such books as he could spare. Afterwards Franklin started a sub- scription library, the first of its kind in America. The club continued for nearly forty years, and was the best school of philosophy, morality, ^r-.d politics in the province. Beyond most men, Franklin had the power of self-control. He was thus able from early manhood to bring his conduct under the direction of principles which he had deliberately adopted in the light of reason. When he was told by a Quaker friend that he was generally thought to be proud, and when he was satisfied of the fact by the evidence adduced (it would have been hard to convince most men), he at once added hu- mility to the list of virtues in which he was to exercise himself; and he succeeded in acquiring at least its. outward expression. He gave up his dogmatic manner in conversation and argu- ment ; and in place of positive assertion, he formed the habit of introducing his opinions with modest diffidence. He recog- nized the truth of Pope's lines " Men must be taught, as if you taught them n -t. And things unknown proposed as things forgot." He accustomed himself to introduce his statements with " I conceive," ** I apprehend," " It appears to me at present," and other similar expressions. "And this mode," he says, "which I at first put on with some violence to natural inclina- tion, became at length easy, and so habitual to me, that perhaps BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 47 for the last fifty years no one has ever heard a dogmatical expression escape me. And to this habit (after my character of integrity) I think it principally owing that I had early so much weight with my fellow citizens, when I proposed new in- stitutions, or alterations in the old ; and so much influence in public councils, when I became a member ; for I was but a bad speaker, never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in my choice of words, hardly correct in language, and yet I generally carried my point." All which is delightfully frank, and takes us, as it were, behind the scenes. To return to his printing business, he pushed it with great shrewdness and energy, and with his usual frankness he lets us into what he considers the secret of his success. " In order tc secure my credit and character as a tradesman, I took care not only to be in reality industrious and frugal, but to avoid the appearances to the contrary. I dressed plain, and was seen at no places of idle diversion. I never went out a fishing or shoot- ing ; a book, indeed, sometimes debauched me from my work, but that was seldom, was private, and gave no scandal ; and to show that I was not above my business, I sometimes brought home the paper I purchased at the stores, through the streets on a wheelbarrow. Thus being esteemed an industrious, thriv- ing young man, and paying duly for what I bought, the mer- chants who imported stationery solicited my custom ; others proposed supplying me with books, and I went on prosper- ously." As opportunity afforded, he judiciously increased his busi- ness, publishing a newspaper which became the most influential in the colonies, and opening a stationer's shop. He regarded his newspaper as a means of benefiting the public ; and besides reprinting extracts from the Spectator, he frequently contributed little essays of his own. Among these he mentions " a So- cratic dialogue, tending to prove that, whatever might be his parts and abilities, a ^icious man could not properly be called a man of sense." In 1732 he began the publication of an Almanac under the 4 8 AMERICAN LITERATURE. name of Richard Saunders ; it was continued about twenty-five years, and was commonly called " Poor Richard's Almanac." It had an annual sale of about ten thousand copies, and proved quite a profitable undertaking. Considering it a useful means of conveying instruction to the common people, he filled every available corner " with proverbial sentences, chiefly such as inculcated industry and- frugality as the means of procuring wealth, and thereby securing virtue ; it being more difficult for a man in want to act always honestly, as, to use here one of those proverbs, // is hard for an empty sack to stand upright." These proverbs, very few of which were original, represent the practical wisdom of many nations and ages. In 1758 he brought the principal ones together in the form of a connected discourse, which is supposed to be delivered by a wise old man to the crowd attending an auction. "The piece," to give Franklin's account of it, "being universally approved, was copied in all the newspapers of the American continent, re- printed in Britain on a large sheet of paper, to be stuck up in houses ; two translations were made of it in France, and great numbers bought by the clergy and gentry, to distribute gratis among their poor parishioners and tenants. In Pennsylvania, as it discouraged useless expense in foreign superfluities, some thought it had its share of influence in producing that growing plenty of money, which was observable for several years after its publication." By this time Franklin had become a prominent person in the community ; and his business success having put him in easier circumstances, he was able to turn his attention more fully to public affairs. In 1736 he was chosen clerk of the General Assembly, and the following year he was appointed postmaster at Philadelphia. As a public-spirited citizen he sought to improve the condition of the city, and to this end he organized a regular police force, supported by taxation, and a voluntary fire company. When the Quaker Assembly refused to pass a militia law during the war of the Spanish Succession, he strongly set forth the defenceless condition of the province, BENJAMIN FRANA'LIN. 49 and proposed the organization of a voluntary body of troops. The success of the enterprise was astonishing. At a public meeting in Philadelphia, the enrolment numbered more than five hundred in a single evening ; and including the enlistment in the country,, the number of volunteers at length reached ten thousand men, who formed themselves into companies and regiments, chose officers, and provided themselves with arms. Labors and honors were now heaped upon him. He was appointed postmaster-general for America. Both Harvard and Yale honored him with the master's degree. He was the chief promoter in establishing an academy which afterwards became the University of Pennsylvania. In his educational views he was progressive beyond his time. He deserves a place among educational reformers. While building up his business, he had also gained a reading knowledge of French, Italian, and Span- ish. From these he passed to Latin, for which he found the "preceding languages had greatly smoothed the way." Thus he was led by experience to recognize the truth of the maxim of Comenius, that " the nearer should precede the more remote. 57 Hence he argued, as the philosopher Locke had done before him, that ancient languages should be approached through the study of the modern languages. In 1754 he was appointed a delegate to the Albany conven- tion to consult with the Six Nations in regard to the common defence of the country against the French. It was then that he proposed " a plan for the union of all the colonies under one government, so far as might be necessary for defence and other important general purposes." It always remained his opinion that the adoption of this plan of union would have averted or certainly delayed the conflict with the mother country. "The colonies so united," he wrote in his old age, "would have been sufficiently strong to have defended themselves ; there would then have been no need of troops from England; of course the subsequent pretext for taxing America, and the bloody contest it occasioned, would have been avoided. But such 50 AMERICAN LITERATURE. mistakes are not new; history is full of the errors of states and princes. ' Look round the habitable world, how few Know their own good, or knowing it, pursue.' " In Braddock's disastrous campaign, Franklin rendered the proud and over-confident general important aid; and if his pru- dent counsel had been followed, victory would have taken the place of defeat. Later he was commissioned to take charge of the defence of the western frontier of Pennsylvania, and discharged his difficult task in an energetic and successful manner. He knew the art of managing men, and under his direction three forts or stockades were built and provisioned in a short time. In 1746 Franklin began his electrical experiments, which in a few years gave him a reputation abroad as a philosopher. Besides a number of new experiments invented by him, he was the first to point out clearly the existence of positive and negative electricity, and by his well-known experiment with the kite to prove the identity of lightning and electricity. His experiments and conclusions were set forth in various papers with the lucidity characteristic of his thought and style. His essays were read before the Royal Society, published in Eng- land, and afterwards, through the influence of the great natu- ralist Buffon, also in France. Though his views were attacked at various times, he abstained from all controversy on princi- ple, and left his conclusions to take care of themselves. When urged, on one occasion, to defend his invention of the light- ning-rod, he replied: "I have never entered into any contro- versy in defence of my philosophical opinions ; I leave them to take their chance in the world. If they are right, truth and experience will support them ; if wrong, they ought to be re- futed and rejected. Disputes are apt to sour one's temper and disturb one's quiet." In recognition of his important contri- butions to electrical science, he was elected a member of the Royal Society, and awarded the Copley medal for the year 1753. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 5 I Among the scientists of the eighteenth century Franklin occu- pies a high rank. It would extend the sketch too far to trace in detail Frank- lin's labors abroad, first as the representative of Pennsylvania, and afterwards of the United States. In England he was cor- dially received as a philosopher and statesman. The univer- sities of St. Andrews and Oxford conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Laws. Learned societies enrolled his name in their membership. The municipality of Edinburgh gave him the freedom of the city. In France he received a greater ova- tion than had been accorded Voltaire. The people were en- thusiastic ; the nobility feted him, medals and medallions were struck off in great numbers. A Frenchman gave brilliant ex- pression to Franklin's achievements in the famous line : " Eripuit coelo fulmen, sceptrumque tyrannis." l It was chiefly through his influence that the independence of the United States was recognized by France, and that French aid was extended for its achievement. He was one of the five commissioners appointed by Congress to negotiate the peace that put an end to the War of the Revolution in 1782. In 1785, at his own request, he was relieved of his duties as minister to France, and returned to his native country. He received an enthusiastic welcome. After his fifty years of public service, it was his desire to spend his few remaining days in quiet. "I am again surrounded by my friends," he writes, "with a fine family of grandchildren about my knees, and an affectionate, good daughter and son-in-law to take care of me." His hopes, however, were disappointed. He was called to the gubernatorial chair of Pennsylvania for three successive years the limit fixed by law. In 1787 he was a member of the convention to frame the Constitution of the United States. It was owing, perhaps, to his influence that the Constitution was unanimously adopted. 1 He has seized the lightning from heaven, and the sceptre from tyrants. 52 AMERICAN LITERATURE. The two or three last years of his life were a fitting close to his extraordinary career. Though suffering at times much physical pain, he lived in comfortable retirement, in the midst of his grandchildren and the company of friends. He retained his faculties to the last; and that genial humor, which char- acterized his life, never deserted him. His manners were easy and obliging; and his large benevolence diffused about him an atmosphere of unrestrained freedom and satisfaction. He looked forward to his approaching end with philosophic com- posure. "Death I shall submit to," he said, "with the less regret as, having seen during a long life a good deal of this world, I feel a growing curiosity to be acquainted with some other; and can cheerfully, with filial confidence, resign my spirit to the conduct of that great and good Parent of mankind who has so graciously protected and prospered me from my birth to the present hour." The end came the iyth of April, 1790, at the age of eighty-four years; and his body, followed by an immense throng of people, was laid to rest by that of his wife in the yard of Christ Church. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 53 JONATHAN EDWARDS. IN considering a man's life, we should take into considera tion its historic environment. We should judge it, not by the standards of our day, but by the standards then prevailing. Only for moral obliquity must there be small allowance; for whatever may be the laxity of the times, every man has in his breast a monitor against vice. If we study Jonathan Edwards with proper sympathy, we must pronounce his life a great life. Though his character was colored by Puritan austerity, and his religious experience involved what many believe to have been morbid emotions, there is no questioning the fact of his masterful intellect and his stainless integrity. He certainly was not, what a ferocious critic has styled him, a theological "monomaniac." There is much less reason to dissent from the judgment of another reviewer who says of him: " Remarkable for the beauty of his face and person, lordly in the easy sweep and grasp of his intellect, wonderful in his purity of soul and in his sim- ple devotion to the truth, the world has seldom seen in finer combination all the great qualities of a godlike manhood." 1 Jonathan Edwards, who was born at East Windsor, Conn., Oct. 5, 1703, was of excellent Puritan stock. His father, the Rev. Timothy Edwards, was for sixty-four years the honored pastor of the Congregational church of East Windsor; and his mother was the daughter of the Rev. Solomon Stoddard, who was pastor at Northampton, Mass., for more than fifty years, and one of the most eminent ministers of his day. From his mother, who was a woman of superior ability and excellent ed- ucation, he inherited not only his delicate features and gentle 1 Bibliotheca Sacra, xxvi., 255. 54 AMERICAN LITERATURE. disposition, but also a large measure of his intellectual force. His father, who was distinguished as a Latin, Greek, and He- brew scholar, was accustomed for many years, in addition to his regular ministerial duties, to prepare young men for col- lege. With no mediaeval prejudice against the higher educa- tion of woman, he instructed his daughters (there were no fewer than ten of them) in the same studies pursued by the young men. It was in this cultivated -and studious home, under the refining influence and instruction of his older sisters, that young Edwards received his preparatory training. In his childhood he exhibited extraordinary precocity. He was not, as sometimes happens, so absorbed in his books as to lose taste for the observation of nature. For an English correspondent of his father's, he wrote at the age of twelve years an elaborate paper upon spiders, which shows remarkable powers of observation. It is said actually to have enlarged the boundaries of scientific knowledge. Had the young author given himself to natural science, there can be no doubt that he would have stood in the foremost rank. In 1716, when in his thirteenth year, young Edwards en- tered Yale College. It was the day of small things with the institution; and the president residing at a distance of forty miles, the government and discipline were chiefly in the hands of tutors. The result was, as might be expected, a good deal of idleness and disorder among the students. But such was young Edwards's thirst for knowledge that he not only refrained from the insubordination of his fellow-students, but by his scholar- ship and integrity retained their respect and confidence. At the age of fourteen he read Locke's "Essay on the Hu- man Understanding; " and though it can hardly be classed as juvenile literature, he declared that in the perusal of it he en- joyed a far higher pleasure "than the most greedy miser finds, when gathering up handfuls of silver and gold from some newly discovered treasure." While proficient in every department of study, he excelled especially in mental science. He had been trained by his father to make much use of the pen in studying; JONATHAN EDWARDS. 55 and while still an undergraduate, he began to put into clear shape his ideas about the leading terms of mental philosophy, such as cause, existence, space, time, substance, matter, and so on. His notebook of this period shows surprising depth of thought and lucidity of expression. At graduation he stood head and shoulders above his class. Religion, which became the dominant interest of his subse- quent life, engaged his attention toward the end of his college course. He passed through the deep spiritual conflicts that so often, especially under the Puritan type of faith, are associated with profoundly earnest natures. But at last his spiritual struggles issued in a sweet "sense of the glorious majesty and grace of God" a feeling that added a strange charm to ex- ternal nature. "The appearance of every thing," he says, "was altered. There seemed to be, as it were, a calm, sweet cast, or appearance of divine glory, in almost every thing." After graduating, he spent nearly two years at the college in theological study. At the age of nineteen he was licensed to preach the gospel, and sent to New York to minister to a small congregation of Presbyterians. Though he filled the pulpit with great acceptance, the relation did not become per- manent, and in 1723 he was elected tutor in Yale College. At this time the office of tutor was a trying position, and it is a significant fact that a year later he wrote : " I have now abun- dant reason to be convinced of the troublesomeness and vex- ation of the world, and that it never will be another kind of a world." But such was his skill in discipline and success in instruction, that President Stiles spoke of him and his associ- ates as "the pillar tutors, and the glory of the college at this critical period." In his twentieth year, and just before entering upon his tutorship, he drew up seventy resolutions for the government of his heart and life. Though they are tinged with a Puritan austerity, and unduly accentuate, perhaps, the religious ele- ment of life, they reveal an extraordinary depth and earnest- ness of character. 56 AMERICAN LITERATURE. In 1726 Jonathan Edwards was called as pastor to North- ampton, where the next twenty-four years of his life were passed. The following year he was married to Miss Pierrepont of New Haven, a lady who added to unusual intellectual gifts and at- tainments an executive ability and considerate sympathy that fitted her in an eminent degree to be the helpmate of her hus- band. She relieved him entirely of domestic cares. There is a tradition that he did not know his own cows. Though his constant inattention to the concerns of his household hardly rendered him a model husband, he gave himself with all the more devotion to his sermons and theological studies. He regularly spent thirteen hours a day in his study; and when Dut for recreation, which was usually on horseback, he carried pen and paper with him to note down such valuable thoughts as might occur to him. In order to keep up the necessary physical strength for his great intellectual labors, he was care- ful to take regular exercise, and observed the strictest temper- ance in eating and drinking. He was exceedingly thorough in his methods of study. He could never be satisfied with hasty or superficial work; and as we read his sermons and numerous volumes, his clearness of view, his power of analysis, and his irresistible cogency of reasoning, afford continual astonishment and pleasure. Among the many able preachers of America, he stands as one of the greatest. He dwelt habitually on the weightiest doctrines of the Christian faith ; and in his treatment of them there is a Miltonic grasp of thought and vigor of language. He was not eloquent in manner or expression ; his voice was weak, and he kept his eyes closely fixed on his manuscript; but such was his overpowering spiritual earnestness that his sermons were sometimes startling in their effect. When he preached his famous sermon, " Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God," the feelings of his audience deepened into an insupportable agony; and at last the cry burst forth, "What must we do to be saved ? " In those days people did not go to church to be entertained; and with an endurance that seems JONATHAN EDWARDS. 57 almost incredible now, they listened, with unflagging attention, to closely reasoned sermons two hours long. It was for audi- ences of this kind that the sermons of Edwards were prepaied- and to such persons as take them up with sufficient determina tion, and are able to appreciate their powerful reasoning, they appear veritable masterpieces. Under his preaching in 1735 there began at Northampton a new interest in religion, which afterwards extending throughout the American colonies has been known as the "Great Awak- ening." The celebrated Whitefield contributed much to this revival. Though attended at times with great excitement and extravagance, this movement upon the whole seems to have been helpful to morality and piety. It was in this connection that Edwards wrote "Some Thoughts concerning the Present Revival of Religion in New England" a work of such spir itual discernment, practical wisdom, and conservative judg- ment, that it has since been regarded as an authority on the subject. He was not friendly to the fanatical tendencies some- times exhibited during the "Great Awakening; " and in order to distinguish between the true and the false evidences of a Christian life, he wrote his "Treatise concerning the Religious Affections." Though defective in style, as indeed are all his works, it occupies a very high rank as a treatise on practical religion. For nearly twenty years Jonathan Edwards had a firm hold upon the affections of his people. Then there came a reac- tion, which finally resulted in his being ejected from his pasto- ral charge. Contrary to the prevailing custom at Northampton and in other parts of New England, he maintained that only consistent Christians should be admitted to the Lord's Sup- per. A bitter controversy followed. Though contending with heroic courage for what he believed to be right, he constantly exhibited the beauty of a meek and forgiving spirit. He was finally forced to resign in 1750. In 1751 he was called to Stockbridge, forty miles west of Northampton, to serve as pastor to a congregation there, and 58 AMERICAN LITERATURE. at the same time to act as missionary to a tribe of Indians in the vicinity. The congregation was small, and the work among the Indians unpromising. It was a field that especially required persistent personal work. Confirmed, as he was, in retiring and studious habits, it is not strange that, in spite of his faithful preaching, he was unsuccessful as a missionary. But among the unfavorable surroundings of a frontier settle- ment, he continued his literary labors, and composed his ablest works. In 1754 appeared his famous treatise entitled "Inquiry into the Freedom of the Will." It is his greatest work, the argu- ment of which he had been slowly elaborating for years. It placed him at once, not only at the head of American writers, but among the world's profoundest thinkers. "On the arena of metaphysics," says the great Dr. Chalmers, "he stood the highest of all his contemporaries, and that, too, at a time when Hume was aiming his deadliest thrusts at the foundations of morality, and had thrown over the infidel cause the whole e'clat of his reputation." According to the judgment of Sir James Mackintosh, "In the power of subtile argument, he was, per- haps, unmatched, certainly unsurpassed among men." Among his other works published while he was at Stockbridge are "A Dissertation on the Nature of True Virtue," and a treatise on "Original Sin." In 1758 he was called to the presidency of the College of New Jersey, a position which he accepted with hesitancy and misgivings. He questioned his natural aptitude for the office, and hesitated to assume duties that would interfere with the studious habits of his life. In a letter to the trustees, in which he speaks with great frankness, he furnishes some interesting facts about his manner of life. "My method of study," he says, "from my first beginning the work of the ministry, has been very much by writing ; applying myself, in this way, to improve every important hint ; pursuing the clue to my utmost, when any thing in reading, meditation, or conversation, has been suggested to my mind, that seemed to promise light in JONATHAN EDWARDS. 59 any weignty point; thus penning what appeared to me my best thoughts, on innumerable subjects, for my own benefit." In the same letter he speaks of a great work that he had on his "mind and heart ; " namely, his "History of the Work of Re- demption." The plan, as he outlines it, reminds us of Milton and Dante. "This history," he says, "will be carried on with regard to all three worlds, heaven, earth, and hell; consider- ing the connected, successive events and alterations in each, so far as the Scriptures give any light; introducing all parts of divinity in that order which is most Scriptural and most natu ral, a method which appears to me the most beautiful and en- tertaining, wherein every divine doctrine will appear to the greatest advantage, in the brightest light, and in the most striking manner, showing the admirable contexture and har- mony of the whole." This work, so grandly outlined, was left unfinished at his death; but the manuscript sermons, which formed the basis of it, were reduced to the form of a treatise by his friend Dr. Erskine of Edinburgh, and the work, which has had a wide circulation, first appeared in that city in 1777. He was inaugurated as president of the College of New Jersey in 1758, but performed the duties of his office less than fi/e weeks. The smallpox having made its appearance in Princeton, he deemed it advisable to be inoculated. / t that time inoculation was regarded as a more serious thing t'ran at present. The trustees were consulted, and gave their consent. A skilful physician was engaged to come from Philadelphia to perform the operation; but in spite of all precautions, the in- oculation terminated fatally. He died March 22, 1758, in the fifty-fifth year of his age. In his last hours he retained the beautiful faith and resignation that had characterized his active life. Shortly Lifore he expired, some friends, not thinking that he heard them, were lamenting the loss that his death would bring to the college and the church. Interrupting them he said, "Trust in God, and ye need not fear," These were his last words. 60 AMERICAN LITERATURE. "Other men have, do doubt, excelled him in particular qualities or accomplishments. There have been far more learned men; far more eloquent men; far more enterprising and active men, in the out-door work of the sacred office. But, in the assemblage and happy union of those high qualities, intellectual and moral, which constitute finished excellence, as a man, a Christian, a divine, and a philosopher, he was, un- doubtedly, one of the greatest and best men that have adorned this, or any other country, since the Apostolic age." 1 1 Miller, Life of Jonathan Edwards, p. 213. REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. REPRESENTATIVE WRITERS. THOMAS JEFFERSON. ALEXANDER HAMILTON. OTHER WRITERS. NEW ENGLAND. JOHN TRUMBULL (1750-1831). Born in Connecticut, and graduated at Yale. Wrote essays in the style of the Spectator, and in 1782 completed "Mc- Fingal," a satire upon the Tories in the manner of Butler's " Hudibras." (See text.) JOEL BARLOW (1754-1812). Poet and politician, born in Connecticut. In 1787 he published an epic poem entitled "The Vision of Columbus," which appeared anew in revised form in 1805 under the title of "The Columbiad." It is a dull epic, but his "Hasty Pudding" is still read- able. Ambassador to France in 1811. (See text.) TIMOTHY DWIGHT (1752-1817). President of Yale College from 1795 to the time of his death. A theologian whose works are still instructive. He wrote the hymn, "I love Thy Kingdom, Lord," and the patriotic song, "Columbia, Columbia, to Glory Arise." JOHN ADAMS (1735-1826). Born in Massachusetts. A statesman of great ability; ambassador to England in 1785, and second President of the United States in 1797. He published an elaborate "Defense of the Con- stitution of the United States" (3 vols.), in London in 1787. MRS. SUSANNA ROWSON (1762-1824). A novelist of English birth, residing in Boston. Her "Charlotte Temple" was the most popular story of its day. Besides a half dozen novels, she wrote several dramatic pieces. PHILLIS WHEATLEY (1753-1794). A verse writer of African birth. Brought to this country as a slave, she was purchased by Mrs. Wheatley of Bos- ton, by whom she was well educated. Her " Poems on Various Subjects " were published in London in 1773, and gained a temporary popularity. 61 62 AMERICAN LITERATURE. MIDDLE STATES. CHARLES BROCKDEN BROWN (1771-1810). The first American novelist. Born in Philadelphia. He studied law, but abandoned it for literature. He wrote " Wieland," " Ormond," and " Arthur Mervyn," all of which are characterized by imaginative and sometimes weird ingenuity. (See text.) FRANCIS HOPKINSON (1737-1791). A lawyer and politician, born in Phila- delphia. One of the first graduates of the College of Philadelphia, afterwards the University of Pennsylvania. One of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. He wrote many satires, the best known of which is "The Battle of the Kegs." JOSEPH HOPKINSON (1770-1842). A distinguished lawyer. He graduated at the University of Pennsylvania, and was a member of Congress in 1815-1819. He is best known as the author of " Hail Columbia," which was written for the benefit of a player at a Philadelphia theatre. PHILIP FRENEAU (1752-1832). A poet, editor, and political writer, born in New York and educated at the College of New Jersey. Edited several papers, among which were the N. Y. Daily Advertiser and the National Gazette of Philadelphia. He published several volumes of poems, of which "Lines to a Wild Honeysuckle" and "The Indian Burying Ground" are regarded the best. (See text.) THOMAS PAINE (1737-1809). A native of England, who came to Phila- delphia in 1774. His pamphlet entitled "Common Sense," an able defence of the American Colonies, won him the friendship of Washing- ton, Franklin, and other distinguished American leaders. His " Rights of Man" (1791) is an eloquent defence of the French Revolution. "The Age of Reason," written while in a French prison, favors Deism. HUGH HENRY BRACKENRIDGE (1748-1816). A lawyer and humorist of Philadelphia, whose works were quite popular in their day. "Modern Chivalry" was his principal work, though he wrote a dramatic poem, "Bunker's Hill," and a few lyrics. ALEXANDER WILSON (1766-1813). A Scottish poet and ornithologist, who came to this country in 1794. His narrative poem, "Watty and Meg," had in its day an immense vogue 100,000 copies sold in a few weeks. But his principal work is " American Ornithology." VIRGINIA. JAMES MADISON (1751-1836). A great statesman and political writer. He was Secretary of State under Jefferson, and in 1809 became President. One of the authors of the " Federalist." REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 63 JOHN MARSHALL (1755-1835). A statesman, and Chief Justice of the United States. He was a captain in the American Revolution, and Secretary of State under John Adams. As Chief Justice, to which office he was appointed in 1801, he was said to be "conscience made flesh, reason incarnate." His "Life of Washington" is an elaborate and judicious biography. WILLIAM WiRT (1772-1834). A native of Maryland, he long resided in Virginia, where he practised law and served in the legislature. He was Attorney-General of the United States, 1817-1829. He afterwards settled in Baltimore. He wrote " Letters of a British Spy," containing sketches of popular orators, and a " Life of Patrick Henry," an excellent biography. GEORGE WASHINGTON (1732-1799). Commander-in-chief during the Revo- lution and first President of the United States. His writings, including his diary and correspondence, fill fourteen volumes. His "Farewell Ad- dress" would be sufficient to give him a place in the literature of his country. III. THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. (1763-1815.) THE Revolutionary Period embraces about fifty years, and includes two events of great importance. The first of these is the War of Independence ; the other, the adop- tion of the Constitution. Around these two events gathers nearly all the literature of the time. This literature can be understood only as we comprehend the spirit and prin- ciples of the founders of our republic. No other period better illustrates the relation of literature to prevailing so- cial conditions. For half a century the struggle against British injustice and oppression, and the establishment of a great national government, absorbed a large part of the intellectual energies of the people. Great practical ques- tions were pressing for solution. It was the age of politi- cal pamphlets and popular oratory. The literature of the time arose, not to enrich the treasures of artistic expression, but to mould and move popular thought and action. The leaders of the revolutionary movement were heroes. We cannot peruse their determined and often eloquent words without being moved with admiration. There is an ardor in them that kindles anew the spirit of freedom. The deliberate and resolute courage of the Revolutionary patriots has never been surpassed. True to the spirit of their forefathers, who had sought refuge from oppression 6 4 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 65 in the wilds of a new continent, they were bravely jealous of their liberties. With Anglo-Saxon fidelity they were loyal to England until repeated and inexcusable acts of tyranny drove them into resistance. It was only when the hope of receiving justice from the mother country had completely died out, that the desire and purpose of inde- pendence arose. The general cause of the Revolution was the stupid and tyrannical claim of the British government " to bind the colonies in all things whatsoever." The fatal course of George III. and of his ministers may be best explained as a madness sent from heaven, like the hardening of Pharaoh's heart, to prepare the way for the coming of a great nation. For many years the British king, supported by Parliament, had pursued a policy of usurpation and tyr- anny. The list of grievances in the^ Declaration of Inde- pendence, where each statement points to a particular fact, makes up a terrific indictment. Jefferson was only faithful to facts when he declared, " The history of the present king of Great Britain is a history of unremitting injuries and usurpations, among which appears no solitary fact to contradict the uniform tenor of the rest, but all have in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over these states." The petitions and remon- strances of the colonists remained unnoticed. The king demanded absolute and abject submission. But it was impossible that the people of America should become a race of slaves. Liberty was a part of their inheritance as Englishmen. They cherished the memory of Magna Charta and the Bill of Rights of 1689. The tragic fate of Charles I., brought to the block for his tyranny, was not forgotten. The hardships and dangers 66 AMERICAN LITERATURE. connected with the subjugation of an untamed continent had served to develop their native strength, courage, and independence. They were the last people in the world tamely to submit to oppression and wrong. They main tained that, by nature as well as by common law, the right of taxation rests with the people. To take their property by taxation without their consent was justly held to be tyranny. When, in violation of this fundamental principle of civil liberty, the British government persisted in the claim to tax the colonies at pleasure, the inevitable result was united and resolute resistance. The necessities of the times produced a generation of political thinkers and writers. The Continental Congress of 1774, which included among its members Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, and Adams, was one of extraordinary ability. No abler legislative body ever came together. The leaders of popular thought were forced to reflect upon the fundamental principles of government. The result was a clearness of vision in relation to human rights that is almost without parallel. The discussions and state papers of the time have extorted praise from the ablest European statesmen. Many of the speeches of the time possess an eloquence that compares favorably with the highest oratory of either ancient or modern times. While the belles-lettres literature of the Revolutionary Period is insignificant in both quantity and quality, no more inter- esting or important body of political literature was ever brought together in the same space of time. It is neces- sary to mention only the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution, and "The Federalist." In the beginning of the revolutionary movement, the people of America did not aim at independence. They THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 67 were loyal to England. At first their object was simply to correct the injustice done them by the British govern- ment. Their petitions were accompanied with sincere pro- fessions of loyalty to the British crown. But the spirit of independence imperceptibly gained in strength. At last, as the conflict deepened, separation from Great Brit- ain became inevitable. Submission and reconciliation were no longer possible. On the 4th of July, 1776, the rep- resentatives of the colonies, in Congress assembled, issued their sublime Declaration of Independence, and America entered upon its career of grandeur and freedom. The Americans based the justice of their cause on two grounds : first, their rights as Englishmen ; and second, their natural rights as men. Since the days of the Great Charter, the king had been denied the right of imposing taxes at pleasure. The attempt to do so was an act of tyranny that had aiready cost one king his head. The colonies maintained that they were not under the jurisdic- tion of Parliament. They were not represented in that body. The right of taxation rested only with their own popular assemblies. The effort of Parliament to impose taxes upon them was, therefore, an evident usurpation of authority. But the American colonists went farther than a de- fence of their rights under the constitution and common law of England. They appealed to their natural rights as men. ' Among the natural rights of the colonists," wrote Samuel Adams in 1772, " are these : First, a right to life ; secondly, to liberty; thirdly, to property together with the right to support and defend them in the best manner they can." In the Declaration of Independence the same appeal is made to fundamental natural principles. 68 AMERICAN LITERATURE. The happy issue of the Revolution in 1783 settled forever the questions which related to British oppression, and which for twenty years had so largely occupied the thought of Americans. Then followed an era of discus- sion in relation to the form and powers of the national government. During the Revolution there had been no central power. Under the Articles of Confederation adopted in 1778, the colonies were organized into a loose confederacy. Congress was narrowly restricted in its powers, and the ratification of nine States was necessary to complete an act of legislation. "The fundamental de- fect of the Confederation," says Jefferson, "was that Con- gress was not authorized to act immediately on the people, and by its own officers. Their power was only requisi- tory ; and these requisitions were addressed to the several legislatures, to be by them carried into execution, with- out other coercion than the moral principle of duty. This allowed, in fact, a negative to every legislature, on every measure proposed by Congress ; a negative so frequently exercised in practice, as to benumb the action of the Fed- eral government, and to render it inefficient in its general objects, and more especially in pecuniary and foreign con- cerns." During the continuance of the Revolution, the sense of common danger naturally held the colonies to- gether. The requisitions of Congress were generally com- plied with. But after the war, the country fell into great disorder and distress, and the inadequacy of .the Confede- ration became generally apparent. Accordingly, in 1787, a general convention was held in Philadelphia to revise the Articles of Confederation. Washington was chosen president. A committee of revis- ion submitted as its report the first draft of the present THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 69 Constitution of the United States. The discussions, which were secret, lasted for several months ; and in view of con- flicting opinions and interests, the convention was several times on the point of giving up in despair. The nation trembled on the brink of dissolution and ruin. But in each instance further deliberation resulted in compromise and agreement. When completed, the Constitution did not wholly satisfy any one ; it was unanimously accepted, however, as the best result attainable under the circum- stances. It remedied the obvious defects of the Articles of Confederation. It established a national government with legislative, executive, and judicial departments ; and the results thus far have justified the judgment of Glad- stone, that it is " the most wonderful work ever struck off at a given time by the brain and purpose of man." After the completion of the work of the convention, the Constitution came before the people of the several States for ratification or rejection. For the first time the American people were divided into two great parties. All local differences were swallowed up in the larger issue relating to the national government. Those who favored the adoption of the Constitution were known as Federal- ists ; those who opposed it were called Anti-Federalists. Political feeling ran high. The question of ratification was discussed in the newspaper and debated in the public assembly. Party opinion was sometimes emphasized by mob violence. In New York the leader of the Anti-Fed- eralists was Governor Clinton. The leader on the oppo- site side was Hamilton, who, in co-operation with Madison and Jay, largely influenced popular sentiment by the series of powerful essays known collectively as "The Federalist." In Virginia, Patrick Henry used all his influence and elo- 70 AMERICAN LITERATURE quence to prevent the adoption of the Constitution ; but he was successfully opposed by Edmund Randolph, gov- ernor cf the State. The general ground of opposition lay, first, in dislike of a strong national government ; and secondly, in the absence of sufficient guarantees (since supplied by amend- ments) to secure the liberties of the people. The reasons in favor of adoption are succinctly stated in the preamble of the Constitution itself : namely, " to form a more per- fect union, establish justice, ensure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defence, promote the general wel- fare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity." In spite of the strong feeling against the Constitution, it was ratified by eleven States before the end of 1788. The following year the new government was inaugurated, with Washington as the unanimous choice of the people for president. There remained, however, many perplex- ing questions to be settled. The financial policy of the government ; the relations of the United States with foreign powers; the acquisition of new territory these were some of the questions that engaged the attention of thoughtful minds. In 1812 it again became necessary to meet British insolence and aggression by force. The ground of hostilities was compressed into the rallying cry of " Free trade and sailors' rights." In a conflict lasting more than two years, England was again defeated. With the happy solution of all these problems, and the rapid development in population and wealth, the United States at last assumed an honorable place among the great family of nations. Such were the prevailing influences controlling litera- THE KEl'OLVTIOXAKY PERIOD, 71 ture during the Revolutionary Period. It would be a mis- take, however, to suppose that the entire literary activity of the country was confined to popular oratory, political pamphlets, and official documents. Theology was not en- tirely neglected; and Timothy Dwight's "Theology Ex- plained and Defended," in a series of sermons, was a standard in its day, and may still be studied with profit. The mighty influences at work naturally sought an auxil- iary in poetry. Accordingly, we find a large' number of satires, more or less extended, many popular ballads, mostly crude in composition, and at least one pretentious epic, so stately and tedious that it is never read. Here and there we find a poem or other literary production independent of the political controversies of the time. Such is Philip Freneau's " The Wild Honeysuckle : " - " Fair flower, that dost so comely grow, Hid in this silent, dull retreat, Untouched thy honey'd blossoms blo\\ ; Unseen thy little branches greet; No roving foot shall find thee here, No busy hand provoke a tear." Here should be mentioned the works of Charles Brock- den Brown, who among our native authors has the credit of first adopting literature as a profession. His early years were marked by an extraordinary fondness for study and by a rare precocity of genius. Virgil and Homer stirred his poetic impulses, and scarcely out of school, he planned three epic poems connected with American history. Colum- bus, Cortez, and Pizarro appealed to him as epic heroes. He first gave himself to the practice of law ; but like not a few others in the history of American literature, he 72 AMERICAN LITERATURE. soon abandoned the bar for the pen. He became a con- tributor to the periodical literature of New York and Philadelphia, and in 1803, in the latter city, he founded the Literary Magazine and American Register, which had a career of five years. He was not indifferent to the political questions of his day ; and in his " Cession of Louisiana to France," he advocated, with decided energy of style, the purchase of that region and the progressive territorial expansion of the United States. But Brown's principal claim to a place in the history of our literature depends upon his fiction. In spite of his feeble health, which necessitated the utmost care in diet and exercise, he wrote no fewer than six novels, among which " Wieland," " Ormond," "Arthur Mervyn," and " Edgar Huntley " deserve special mention. He was influenced in his matter and style by the English novelist William Godwin, in whose " Caleb Williams " he finds "transcendent merits as compared to the mass of novels." He deals with the mysterious; but in spite of their improb- ability, his novels still possess an unmistakable power. Though lacking in the delineation of character, he has something of Poe's power in describing weird scenes and morbid psychologic conditions. The principal satire of the period is John Trumbull's " McFingal," which was undertaken, as he tells us, " with a political view, at the instigation of some leading mem- bers of the first Congress," and was published in part in Philadelphia in 1775. It is written in imitation of But- ler's " Hudibras," and does not suffer in comparison with that famous satire upon the Puritans of England. Some of its lines are easily mistaken for Butler's, and have been so quoted ; for example : THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 73 "A thief ne'er felt the halter draw With good opinion of the law." Or this, " For any man with half an eye What stands before him may espy; But optics sharp it needs, I ween, To see what is not to be seen." Trumbull does not always spare his countrymen. In the following lines there is a very good hit at slavery. After describing the erection of a liberty-pole, he con- tinues : " And on its top, the flag unfurled Waved triumph o'er the gazing world, Inscribed with inconsistent types Of liberty and thirteen stripes." The hero McFingal is a Tory squire, who in resisting the Whigs comes to grief, and suffers the peculiar revolu- tionary punishment of tar and feathers. " Yankee Doodle " belongs to this period. The tune is an old one ; and the hero himself, who had previously figured in Holland and England, may be regarded as American only by adoption. The song was first used in derision of the motley troops of the colonies; but like many another term of reproach, Yankee Doodle was taken up by the American soldiery, and made a designation of honor. The first complete set of words appears to date from 1775, and is entitled "The Yankee's Return from Camp." " Father and I went down to camp Along with Captain Gooding ; And there we see the Ynen and boys As thick as hasty-pudding." In 1807 "The Columbiad," an epic poem in ten books, by Joel Barlow, made its appearance in a sumptuous edi- 74 AMERICAN LITERATURE. tion. It is our first epic' poem, and this fact constitutes its principal claim upon our attention. The plan of the work is very simple. While Columbus is lying in prison, the victim of his country's ingratitude, Hesper appears, and conducts him to the " hill of vision " commanding the western continent. Here the celestial visitant unfolds to the great discoverer the history of America, including the conquest of Mexico by Cortez, the establishment of the English colonies, the French and Indian War, and the Rev- olution. Last of all, " the progress and influences of mod- ern art and science are pointed out, the advantages of the federal government, and of a larger confederation of nations, with an assimilation and unity of language ; an abandonment of war, and a final blaze of rockets over the emancipation of the world from prejudice, and a general millennium of philosophic joy and freedom." THOMAS JEFFERSON. THOMAS JEFFERSON. THOMAS JEFFERSON. Do great epochs make great men, or do great men make great epochs ? This question has often been discussed; and the consideration of every important era is likely to start it afresh. Neither question is true to the exclusion of the other. Great epochs and great men go together, each exerting an in- fluence upon the other. In a nation, as in an individual, there is usually a large amount of ability unutilized. Under ordinary conditions it lies latent. When there comes that conflict of ideas, and often of physical force, which marks a new stage in human progress, the latent energies of the people are roused to action: great men rise to meet the responsibili- ties and to seize the opportunities presented to them. They often succeed in directing or controlling the new movement, and out of chaos they bring forth order and beauty. Among the great men developed and brought into promi- nence by the conflict with Great Britain, a very high place must be assigned to Thomas Jefferson. After Washington, whom a grateful country has invested with an almost ideal beauty, he must be ranked with Adams, Franklin, and Hamil- ton, as one of the founders of our republic. Among the many distinguished sons whom Virginia has given to America, Jef- ferson stands very close after "the father of his country." His labors in the Legislature of Virginia, in the Continental Congress, and afterwards in the president's chair, displayed the wisdom and the patriotism of a great statesman. Thomas Jefferson was born in Albemarle County, April 2, 1743. His father, who was of .Welsh descent, was a man of no great learning, but of excellent judgment and great physi- cal strength. His mother, who was a Randolph, belonged to 76 AMERICAN LITERATURE. one of the most distinguished Virginia families. The Ran- dolphs traced their pedigree to noble families in England and Scotland a fact "to which," says Jefferson in his "Auto- biography," "let every one ascribe the faith and merit he chooses." Considering the mental and physical traits of his father and mother, we see that Jefferson was fortunate in his parentage. After an excellent preparatory training, including English, French, Latin, and Greek, Jefferson entered William and Mary College, which was generally patronized at that time by the aristocratic families of Virginia. He was a diligent stu- dent, often working, as he tells us, fifteen hours a day. He united a decided taste for both mathematics and the classics. He had little taste for fiction, and it is said that "Don Qui- xote " is the only novel he ever keenly relished or read a sec- ond time. He delighted in poetry, and read Homer, Horace, Tasso, Moliere, Shakespeare, Milton, and Pope. For a time he was extravagantly fond of Ossian, and "was not ashamed to own that he thought this rude bard of the North the great- est poet that had ever existed/' But many years before his death he formed a juster estimate of Macpherson's forgeries. He took no interest in metaphysical studies, and frequently expressed "unmitigated contempt for Plato and his writings." While in Williamsburg, at that time the capital of the State, Jefferson became a law student under George Wythe, one of the ablest and purest lawyers Virginia has produced. He won the favor of Governor Fauquier, at whose table he was a frequent guest. "With him," Jefferson writes, "Dr. Small and Mr. Wythe, his amid omnium horarum, and myself formed a partie quarree, and to the habitual conversations on these occasions I owed much instruction." This intimate fel- lowship with learned and distinguished men while he was yet scarcely out of his teens, indicates the presence of no ordinary intellectual and social gifts. In 1767, at the age of twenty-four, Jefferson entered upon the practice of law. His preparation had been thorough, and THOMAS JEFFERSON. 77 he was eminently successful from the start. Though he was not, like his friend Patrick Henry, an eloquent speaker, he was a man of excellent judgment and untiring industry. While ca- pable of seizing at once upon the strong points of a case, he had a genius for details. Nothing can surpass the minuteness of his observations, and the patience of his methodical clas- sification. He was rapidly advancing to a prominent place among the ablest lawyers of Virginia, when the struggle with Great Britain called him to a wider and more important field of action. In 1769 Jefferson was elected a member of the Virginia House of Burgesses for his native county. The aristocratic class, to which he belonged by birth and association, was gen- erally conservative. They were loyal to the English crown and to the English church. It speaks forcibly for Jefferson's pa- triotism and for his noble independence of character, that he threw off his inherited prejudices and sided with the colonies. At this meeting of the House of Burgesses resolutions were passed boldly declaring that the right of levying taxes in Vir- ginia belonged to themselves; that they possessed the privi- lege of petitioning the king for a redress of grievances; and that the transportation to England of persons accused of treason in the colonies, in order to be tried there, was uncon- stitutional and unjust. In advocating these resolutions, Jef- ferson took a decided and prominent part. In 1772 Jefferson married Mrs. Martha Skelton, a young widow of great attractions in person, mind, and estate. She was of frank, warm-hearted disposition; and "last, not least, she had already proved herself a true daughter of the Old Dominion in the department of house-wifery." She added to her husband's estate, which was already very large, about forty thousand acres of land and one hundred and thirty-five slaves. Thus they were unembarrassed by those disagreeable domestic economies that sometimes interfere with wedded bliss; and Monticello became as noted for bounteous hospitality as for domestic felicity. 78 AMERICAN LITERATURE. In 1773 Jefferson was again in the House of Burgesses. The gathering storm became more threatening. A resolution, ordering the appointment of a committee of correspondence with the other colonies, was passed. Jefferson was a leading member of this committee, and its duties were promptly and ably discharged. The result was of the highest importance. Similar committees were appointed in the other colonies; and thus a means of communication was opened among them, the feeling of common interest was strengthened, and a general congress met the following year to consider the great questions that were agitating the continent. In 1774 the British Parliament, in retaliation for the famous "Tea Party," passed the Boston Port Bill, which aimed to deprive that town of its foreign trade. When the news of this bill reached Williamsburg, the patriot leaders, Jefferson, Henry, the Lees, and others, met as usual for consultation, and resolved to take steps to rouse the "people from the lethargy into which they had fallen." A day of fasting and prayer was agreed on as the best expedient to accomplish their object. Accordingly, a resolution was "cooked up," to use Jefferson's rather irreverent phrase, "appointing the first day of June, on which the Port Bill was to commence, for a day of fasting, humiliation, and prayer, to implore Heaven to avert from us the evils of civil war, to inspire us with firmness in the support of our rights, and to turn the hearts of the king and parliament to moderation and justice." The scheme was successfully carried through. The day was fittingly observed; and the effect throughout the colony was like an electric shock, arousing every man to a sense of the situation. Jefferson was prevented by illness from attending the con- vention which met several months later to elect delegates to the first general congress. But he forwarded a paper which he proposed as instructions for their guidance. The paper was regarded as too strong for formal adoption by the convention ; but it was ordered to be printed in pamphlet form, under the title of "A Summary View of the Rights of British America." THOMAS JEFFERSON. 79 It is a production remarkable for its strong statement of the natural and constitutional rights of the colonies, and for a particular enumeration of the various acts of injustice and tyranny on the part of the British government. It supplied principles, facts, and phrases for the Declaration of Indepen- dence two years later. In June, 1775, Jefferson took his seat in the Continental Congress. He was then thirty-two years old the youngest member but one in that illustrious body. His reputation as a writer and patriot had preceded him, and he accordingly met with a flattering reception. He now entered upon that larger sphere of action that closely identified him for many years with his country's history. On the floor of Congress he spoke but little, for he was neither an orator nor a debater. But he was so clear in his convictions, and so active in committee and in his personal relations with his fellow-members, that he exerted a strong influence. " Prompt, frank, explicit, and de- cisive" are the terms in which John Adams described him at this period. He had been in Congress but five days when he was appointed on a committee to prepare a report on "the causes of taking up arms against England." Here, as in the Virginia legislature, he showed himself bold, resolute, and defiant. Events of great importance now followed one another in rapid succession. The blood shed at Lexington and Bunker Hill had thoroughly roused the American people. Reconcil- iation was recognized, even by the most conservative, as no longer possible. The colonies, throwing off British rule, were organizing independent governments. On the 7th of June Richard Henry Lee, acting under instructions from the Vir- ginia convention, offered in Congress a resolution declaring that the "United States are, and of a right ought to be, free and independent states." As it seemed impossible to secure unanimity of action at that time, a final vote was postponed till the first of July. Meanwhile, a committee, consisting of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin Franklin, Roger 8o . AMERICAN LITERATURE. Sherman, and Robert Livingston, was appointed to prepare a suitable Declaration of Independence. The preparation of this important document was devolved upon Jefferson. Adams and Franklin made a few verbal changes. When taken up in Congress, it was discussed for two days, and numerous changes and omissions were made. Finally, on July 4, 1776, it was almost unanimously adopted, and the foundation of a great republic was laid. A new government had been established in Virginia, and Jefferson elected a member of the legislature. Believing that he could render important service to his native State, where there were "many very vicious points which urgently required reformation," he resigned his seat in Congress. He became once more a leading spirit in the legislature of Virginia, and carried through several bills which changed in large measure the subsequent social condition of the State. Among these was a bill abolishing the system of entails, and another estab- lishing religious freedom, one of the three great acts of his life for which he wished to be remembered. It was also in connection with a bill requiring a general revision of the laws that Jefferson proposed his educational system, providing for the establishment of schools of every grade. Had it been carried out, it would have contributed immeasurably to the intelligence of the people and the pros- perity of the State. His plan contemplated, to use his own words, "ist. Elementary schools, for all children generally, rich and poor. 2d. Colleges for a middle degree of instruc- tion, calculated for the common purposes of life, and such as would be desirable for all who were in easy circumstances. And 3d. An ultimate grade for teaching the sciences gen- erally, and in their highest degree." The support of these schools was to be provided for by general taxation. But inas- much as the system thus threw on the rich and aristocratic classes, who had the law-making power in their hands, a large part of the burden of educating the poor, it was never carried into effect. THOMAS JEFFERSON. 8 1 It is beyond the limits of this sketch to trace at any length the subsequent public career of Jefferson. In 1779 he was elected governor of Virginia, and discharged the duties of that office, at a difficult period, with fidelity and ability. In 1783 he was again elected a delegate to Congress. The currency of the country coming under discussion, Jefferson proposed the dollar as our unit of account and payment, and its subdivision into dimes, cents, and mills in the decimal ratio the system, it is needless to say, that was adopted. In 1784 he was ap- pointed to go to France, for the purpose of negotiating, in connection with Franklin and Adams, treaties of commerce. After a time he was appointed minister to the Court of Ver- sailles, where his talents, culture, and character reflected credit upon his country. In 1789 Jefferson received permission to return to this coun- try. During his absence the Constitution had been adopted, and the new government inaugurated, with Washington as President. Jefferson accepted a place in the cabinet as Sec- retary of State. He reached New York, the seat of govern- ment at that time, in March, 1790. Having left France the first year of its Revolution, he was filled with ardor for the natural rights of man. He was therefore surprised and grieved to find, as he thought, a sentiment prevailing in favor of a con- solidated or even monarchical form of government. This introduces us to a new phase in Jefferson's life. With immovable convictions in favor of democratic principles, he opposed with all his might the tendency to consolidate or centralize the federal government. He became the recognized leader of the party in favor of State rights and a general gov- ernment of restricted and carefully defined powers. His op- ponent in the cabinet was Alexander Hamilton, a man of extraordinary ability and energy, who for time exerted great influence upon the policy of the government. In spite of Washington's effort to preserve harmony, the irreconcilable conflict of principles between the Secretary of State and the Secretary of the Treasury degenerated into bitter personal hos- 82 AMERICAN LITERATURE. tility. At length, in December, 1793, Jefferson carried out his long-cherished purpose of resigning. During the next several years, Jefferson lived upon his es- tate at Monticello, engaged in the agricultural pursuits for which he had longed for many years. But he was not to spend the rest of his life in retirement. In the election of 1801, which was attended with extraordinary excitement and danger to the republic, the Federalists, who had controlled the government for twelve years, were defeated. Their party was divided, and the Alien and Sedition Laws were not sustained by public sentiment. Jefferson, the candidate of the Republican or Dem- ocratic party, was chosen President. In his inaugural address he laid down an admirable summary of principles, among which were "equal and exact justice to all men, of whatever state or persuasion, religious or political; peace, commerce, and honest friendship with all nations; entangling alliances with none; absolute acquiescence in the decisions of the ma- jority; and economy in the public expense that labor may be lightly burdened." His administration, in conformity with the principles he had announced, was a brilliant one. He introduced republi- can simplicity in place of the stately formalities of previous administrations. He greatly reduced the public debt; the territorial area of the United States was doubled; taxes were decreased; a war with France and Spain was honorably averted; the Barbary pirates were subdued; and the internal prosperity of the country vastly increased. His popularity became second only to that of Washington himself. He was accordingly re-elected for a second term, throughout which he continued, likewise, to administer the affairs of the govern- ment with great wisdom and broad statesmanship. In 1809, after witnessing the inauguration of his succes- sor, Madison, Jefferson left Washington for Monticello. After forty years of political" turmoil and strife, he retired finally to the seclusion of private life. During this closing period, which was burdened bv financial embarrassment, he gave much THOMAS JEFFERSON 83 time and labor to the founding of the University of Virginia. He planned the buildings, designated the departments of in- struction, and framed the laws for its government. As presi- dent of the Board, he exerted a controlling influence for a number of years. The scheme of government at first proposed, which included a co-operative feature, did not come up- to his expectations. It erred on the side of laxity; and very soon a spirit of riot and insubordination among the students brought the university to the verge of dissolution. Stricter regulations were afterwards adopted, and the university entered upon its career of usefulness and honor. With advancing years naturally came increased infirmity. As the end drew near in the summer of 1826, he earnestly de- sired to see one more return of the day that commemorated the Declaration of Independence. His prayer was heard. He passed away on the morning of July 4, fifty years after the adoption of his immortal Declaration. A nation mourned his death. The voice of partisan prejudice was lost for a time in the general homage paid to his life and character. He was buried at Monticello, where a modest granite shaft marks his resting-place. It bears the inscription composed by himself and found among his papers : HERE LIES BURIED THOMAS JEFFERSON, AUTHOR OF THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE, OF THE STATUTE OF VIRGINIA FOR RELIGIOUS FREEDOM, AND FATHER OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA. The general features of his character have been Drought out in the course of this sketch. He was a frank and honest man; and as. he expressed himself freely in his writings, we have ample facilities for knowing him well. His intellect was capacious, penetrating, and strong. To the refinement of a superior literary culture he added rich stores of general information. He was singularly independent in thought and 84 AMERICAN LITERATURE. action a natural leader among men. He was a prince among statesmen. The services he rendered his country are second only to those of Washington. His fundamental political faith was that all legitimate government is based on the consent of the governed. He had faith in humanity, and was opposed to aristocratic institutions of every kind. He was the friend of popular liberty. His integrity was above reproach. He loved a life of simplicity and retirement; and nowhere else does he appear more admirable than in the patriarchal dignity with which he presided over his large estate and numerous de- pendents at Monticello. I ALEXANDER HAMILTON 85 ALEXANDER HAMILTON. IT is not without reason that we inquire after the ances- try of our great men. The transmission of personal and na- tional traits from parents to children is a well-established fact. While heredity does not explain every peculiarity in offspring, it often furnishes us a key to leading traits. In order to un- derstand any character thoroughly, it is necessary to know his antecedents. All this is illustrated in Alexander Hamilton, who was born en the island of Nevis, Jan. n, 1757. "From his father, a cool, deliberate, calculating Scotchman, he inher- ited the shrewdness, the logical habits of thought, which con- stitute the peculiar glory of the Scottish mind. From his mother, a lady of French extraction, and the daughter of a Huguenot exile, he inherited the easy manners, the liveliness and vivacity, the keen sense of humor, the desire and the abil- ity to please, which so eminently distinguish the children of the Celtic race." 1 When yet a mere boy, he was placed in a clerkship, and intrusted with the management of important interests. He met the responsibilities thrown upon him with extraordinary abil- ity. But he was not at peace in the drudgery of his position. He felt in himself, as many other great men have felt in youth, the promise of higher things. In a letter preserved to us from this period, he says: "I contemn the grovelling condition of a clerk, or the like, to which my fortune condemns me, and would willingly risk my life, though not my character, to exalt my station. I am confident, Ned, that my youth excludes me from any hopes of immediate preferment, nor do I desire it; but I mean to prepare the way for futurity." This ambitious l McMaster, History of the People of ihe United States. 86 AMERICAiV LITERATURE. purpose in a boy of thirteen contains the promise of future distinction. He had a decided bent for literature. Pope and Plutarch were at that time his favorite authors. His unusual abilities began to attract attention, and finally funds were provided to send him to America, where a wider field of opportunity was open to him. He reached Boston in October, 1772, and thence went to New York. By the advice of judicious friends, he en- tered a grammar school at Elizabethtown, where he pursued his studies with restless energy. His literary instinct found vent in both prose and poetry, which possessed noteworthy merit. At the end of a year he entered King's (afterwards Columbia) College, where he continued his studies with char- acteristic vigor. "In the debating club," it has been said, "he was the most effective speaker; in the recitation-room, the most thorough scholar ; on the green, the most charming friend; in the trial of wit, the keenest satirist." Those who knew "the young West Indian," as he was called, recognized something extraordinary in him, and vaguely speculated about his promising future. The colonies were now deeply stirred over their relations with England. The Revolutionary storm was gathering fast. Which side of the conflict was the promising young collegian to espouse? His inclinations were at first on the side of Great Britain; but it was not long "until he became convinced," to use his own words, "by the superior force of the arguments in favor of the colonial claims." Perhaps he instinctively felt, or with keen penetration discerned, that the eminence to which he aspired lay on the colonial side. An occasion was soon offered to embark in the patriot cause. A mass-meeting was held in July, 1774, to urge New York, which was in possession of the Tories, to take its place along with the other colonies in resisting British aggression. Hamilton was present; and not satisfied with the presentation of the colonial cause in the speeches already delivered, he made his way to the stand, and after a few moments of embarrassment and hesitation, he ALEXANDER HAMILTON. / astonished and captivated the crowd by an extraordinary out- burst of youthful oratory. During the Revolutionary Period public opinion was largely influenced by political pamphlets and elaborate dis- cussions in the newspapers. Hamilton was soon introduced into this species of controversy, for which his natural abilities fitted him in an eminent degree. In the discussion of politi- cal and constitutional questions he had no superior. In 1774 there appeared two ably written tracts that attacked the Conti- nental Congress, and did the patriot cause considerable harm. To counteract their influence, Hamilton wrote two pamphlets in reply; and so ably did he vindicate the claims of the colo- nies, that in spite of his youth he at once took rank as a leader among the patriots. Once fairly enlisted in the cause of American liberty, Hamilton's fiery nature made him active and aggressive. -By pen and voice he continued to mould public opinion. But his ardor never betrayed him into rashness. His love of order and justice restrained him from inconsiderate violence. He even risked his life and (what was perhaps more to him) his repu- tation with the people, in resisting the madness of a mob. When the British ship of war Asia opened fire on New York, a mob thronged the streets, threatening destruction to every Tory.. Dr. Cooper, the. president of the college, was one of the most prominent adherents of the crown; and thither the crowd rushed, bent upon mischief. But Hamilton already stood on the steps of the building, and arrested the tumultuous throng with his vigorous expostulations. But Hamilton's efforts in behalf of the colonies were not confined to words. After the battles of Lexington and Bunker Hill, it became increasingly evident that a peaceful solution of the controversy with Grea; Britain was no longer possible. In preparation for the inevitable appeal to arms, Hamilton studied military science, and to gain practical experience joined a company of volunteers. In several trying situations he displayed unflinching courage. In 1776 the New York 88 AMERICAN LITERATURE. convention ordered the organization of an artillery company Hamilton made application for the command, and established his fitness by a successful examination. He rapidly recruited his company, and expended of his own means to equip it. By constant drill he brought it to a high degree of efficiency. At the battle of Long Island and of White Plains his battery rendered effective service. At the end of six months Hamil- ton had won the reputation of a brave and brilliant officer. The ability of Hamilton did not escape the attention of the commander-in-chief. Accordingly, in March, 1777, he was appointed a member of Washington's staff, with the rank of lieutenant-colonel. During the next four years he was inti- mately associated with the commanding general, and in vari- ous capacities rendered him valuable aid. His chief duty, however, was the conduct of Washington's large correspon- dence. For this work his great natural gifts, as well as his previous training, peculiarly fitted him. A large part of the letters and proclamations issuing from headquarters at this time were the work of Hamilton. No doubt the great com- mander indicated their substance; but their admirable form was due, in part at least, to the skill of his able secretary. But Hamilton's connection with Washington's staff Came to an abrupt and unexpected end in February, 1781. Having been sent for by the commander-in-dyef, he failed to respond promptly to the summons. When he made his appearance, after a brief delay, he was sharply reproved by Washington, who charged him with disrespect. The rebuke touched Hamil- ton's high-strung nature, and he replied: "I am not conscious of it, Sir; but since you have thought it, we part." Under all the circumstances it seems difficult to justify this outburst of the youthful aide. But he never liked the office of an aide- de-camp; and there is reason to believe that he was irritated because he had not been preferred to more important posts to which he aspired. Though he rejected Washington's over- tures looking to a restoration of their former relations, he con- tinued to serve in the army with the rank of colonel, and at ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 89 Yorktown he led an assault upon a British redoubt with resist- less impetuosity. Hamilton was never popular with the masses. His posi- tive and aggressive character raised him above the low arts of the demagogue. He preferred to guide rather than to flattef the people. But he was never without loyal friends. His ex- traordinary force of character made him a centre of attraction for less positive natures. While his natural gifts made him a recognized leader, his generous nature inspired a loyal de- votion. He was popular with his associates in the army; and the French officers especially, whose language he spoke with native fluency, regarded him with enthusiastic affection. Whether under favorable circumstances Hamilton would have made a great general must remain a matter of specula- tion. But war was not the sphere for which his talents were best adapted. He was eminently gifted to be a statesman; and while in active service in the army, he could not refrain from considering the political and financial needs of the coun- try, and from suggesting a remedy for existing evils. In 1780 he addressed to Robert Morris, the financier of the Revolution, an anonymous letter, which is noted for the penetration with which it treats of the financial difficulties of the colonies. But Hamilton's thirst for military and civic glory did not prevent him from falling in love. There is no security against the shafts of Cupid but flight. On Dec. 14, 1780, he married Misc Elizabeth Schuyler, daughter of General Schuyler, and a charming and intelligent woman. Apart from the domestic happiness it brought him, the marriage allied him to an old, wealthy, and influential family. The only fortune Hamilton brought his bride was his brilliant talents and growing repu- tation; but when his father-in-law generously offered him finan- cial aid, he proudly declined to receive it. Conscious of his abilities, he felt able to make his way in the world alone. After leaving the army he entered upon the study of law, and after a brief course he was admitted to the bar in 1782. His strong logical mind and his great force of character fitted him 9 AMERICAN LITERATURE. to achieve distinction in the legal profession. But his coun- try had need of his services in a different and higher sphere. In November, 1782, he took his seat in Congress. That body had sadly declined in ability and prestige. It was in- capable of grappling with the serious problems that presented themselves, and the country seemed to be rapidly drifting to destruction. No longer held together by a sense of common danger, the Confederation was on the point of disintegrating. There was no adequate revenue ; the debts of the government were unprovided for; and the army was about to be disbanded without receiving its long arrears of pay. Hamilton made strenuous efforts to correct these evils. He advocated the levying of a duty on imports ; set forth the necessity of main- taining the public credit and public honor; and urged a just and generous treatment of the army that had achieved Ameri- can independence. But his efforts were in vain. The pusil- lanimous body could not rise equal to the situation. Local interests and jealousies prevailed over broad and patriotic sen- timents. Hamilton's career in Congress was not, however, without important results. It increased his reputation as a patriotic statesman, and also excited that distrust in demo- cratic institutions that ever afterwards made him an advocate of a strongly centralized and, as some claimed, a monarchical form of government. Hamilton's greatest service followed the adoption of the Constitution by the convention. Though he was not thor- oughly satisfied with it, he gave it his hearty support as the best thing attainable under existing conditions, and as a great improvement on the Articles of Confederation. In New York, as in the other States, there was a strong sentiment against the Constitution. The opposition was thoroughly organized and ably led. As a part of the plan to prevent the ratification of the Constitution, it was attacked in a series of elaborate and well-planned essays. This was a field in which Hamilton was well-nigh matchless. He accepted the challenge, and with the assistance of Madison and Jay he prepared that powerful series ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 91 of eighty-five essays forming the "Federalist." The effect was immediate and far-reaching. The " Federalist " did more than any other writing to secure the adoption and support of the Constitution throughout the country. It is a profound dis- quisition on the principles of our government, and has since been quoted as of the highest authority on constitutional ques- tions. But it is more than a political and controversial treatise. Its masterly style raises it to the rank of real literature. Most of the controversial writings of the Revolutionary Period have been forgotten. Having served their temporary purpose, they have been swept into oblivion. But the "Federalist" endures as one of the masterpieces of the human reason. Its sustained power is wonderful. The argument, clothed in elevated, strong, and sometimes eloquent language, moves forward with a mighty momentum that sweeps away everything before it. It is hardly surpassed in the literature of the world as a model of master- ful popular reasoning. By this production Hamilton won for himself a foremost place in the literature of his time. But the "Federalist" was not the only service he rendered the Constitution. It was chiefly through his able leadership that the New York convention adopted the Constitution. The result was one of the most noted triumphs ever achieved in a deliberative body. When the convention assembled, the Clin- tonian or Anti- Federalist party had forty-six out of sixty-five votes. "Two-thirds of the convention," wrote Hamilton, "and four-sevenths o~ die people, are against us." In spite of the great odds against him, he entered into the contest with reso- lute purpose. The Anti-Federalists employed every artifice known to parliamentary tactics to delay and defeat ratification. Day after day the battle raged. Hamilton was constantly on his feet, defending, explaining, and advocating the Constitu- tion. His mastery of the subject was complete; and gradu- ally, his cogent and eloquent reasoning overcame partisan prejudice. "At length Hamilton arose in the convention, and stating that Virginia had ratified the Constitution, and 92 AMERICAN LITERATURE. that the Union was thereby an accomplished fact, moved that they cease their contentions, and add New York to the new empire of Republican States." The vote was taken, and the Constitution adopted. The new government was organized early in 1789; and upon the establishment of the Treasury Department in Septem- ber, Hamilton was called by Washington to tak^ charge of it. His practical wisdom never shone to better advantage. As Secretary of the Treasury, he left his impress upon the institu- tions of his country. He gave to the Treasury Department the organization it has since substantially retained. He was, perhaps, the master-spirit in putting the new government into practical operation. The opposition to Hamilton's policy, which constantly aimed at strengthening the national government, at length took form as the Republican or Democratic party. Jefferson natu- rally became its head. Intensely republican at heart, he had come to entertain exaggerated, and even morbid, views con- cerning what he believed to be the monarchical aims of the Federalists. As a patriot and leader, he felt it his duty to arrest as far as possible this centralizing tendency. His re- lations with Hamilton in the cabinet, to use his own phrase, suggested the attitude of "two cocks in a pit." The feud at length grew beyond Washington's power of conciliation, and Jefferson finally withdrew from the cabinet. It is impossible, within the narrow limits of this sketch, to follow Hamilton through all the labors and controversies of his political career. He sometimes made mistakes, as in sup- porting the odious Alien and Sedition Laws; but beyond all question he stood among the foremost statesmen of his time. By some he is assigned the highest place. " There is not in the Constitution of the United States," says Guizot, "an element of order, of force, of duration, which he did not powerfully contribute to introduce into it, and to cause to pre- dominate." Tallyrand, who saw Hamilton in New York, said: " I consider Napoleon, Fox, and Hamilton the three greatest ALEXANDER HAMILTON. 93 men of our epoch, and without hesitation I award the first place to Hamilton." His official integrity, though, alas! not his moral character, was unsullied. The investigation of his conduct as Secretary of the Treasury, set on foot by his ene- mies in Congress, recoiled upon their own heads. After serving nearly six years in Washington's cabinet, he retired in 1795 to private life, to gain an adequate support for his family. He resumed the practice of his profession in New York. His brilliant abilities and distinguished public services immediately brought him an extensive practice. He speedily rose to the head of the bar. His legal acumen was profound, while his clear thought, copious and forcible language, and pas- sionate energy of will, gave him great power as an advocate. But the end was drawing near. His brilliant career was cut short by the requirements of a false and barbarous " code of honor." Hamilton did not allow his professional labors to destroy his interest in public affairs. He continued the leader of the Federalist party, not only in his adopted State, but in the country at large. In the political contests of New York, his principal opponent was Aaron Burr, a brilliant but unprin- cipled man. Hamilton had twice thwarted Burr's political ambition. When at last he brought about the latter's defeat for the governorship of New York, Burr resolved upon a deadly revenge. He sought a quarrel with Hamilton, and then chal- lenged him. The duel was fought at Weehawken, July n, 1804. At the first fire Hamilton fell mortally wounded, dis- charging his pistol in the air. His death caused an outburst of sorrow and indignation that has scarcely been surpassed in the history of our country. In person Hamilton was considerably under .size. But there was a force in his personality, a fire in his impassioned eye, that made him impressive. He was one of the most ef- fective speakers of his "time. In his social relations he was genial, high-spirited, and generous. He was idolized by his family. Though he was never popular with the masses, whom he distrusted, he had the power of surrounding himself with a 94 AMERICAN LITERATURE. band of able and loyal followers. He was a great constructive thinker a leader of leaders. In the judgment of his rival Jefferson, he was " of acute understanding, disinterested, hon- est, and honorable in all private transactions, amiable in so- ciety, and duly valuing virtue in private life." Chancellor Kent pays a tribute to "his profound penetration, his power of analysis, the comprehensive grasp and strength of his un- derstanding, and the firmness, frankness, and integrity of his character." Like all great men, perhaps, Hamilton was con- scious of his power; and at times it made him self-assertive and dictatorial. He relied for success, not upon treacherous diplomacy, but upon open methods, and, if need be, upon hard fighting. He possessed extraordinary versatility of gen- ius; and he was at once a brilliant officer, a powerful writer, an able lawyer, a great financier, a strong party leader, and a wise statesman. FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. REPRESENTATIVE WRITERS. WASHINGTON IRVING. JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. EDGAR ALLAN POE. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. OTHER PROMINENT WRITERS. NEW ENGLAND. WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING (1780-1842). Preacher, lecturer, and Unita- rian leader of Massachusetts. Author of various works in prose and verse. Among his best prose writings are " Life and Character of Napo- leon Bonaparte," " Milton," and " Self-Culture." AMOS BRONSON ALCOTT (1799-1888). Born in Connecticut. An educator and philosopher of interesting personality. Author of " Essays," "Table Talk," " Concord Days," and other works in prose and verse. HENRY DAVID THOREAU (1817-1862). An eccentric recluse and student of nature. Born in Massachusetts. Author of"Walden; or, Life in the Woods," " Cape Cod," " The Maine Woods," etc. MARGARET FULLER OSSOLI (1810-1850). A gifted woman of Massachusetts. Editor of the Dial, and author of " Woman in the Nineteenth Century," " Art, Literature, and the Drama," " At Home and Abroad," etc. 95 96 AMERICAN LITERATURE. ALEXANDER H. EVERETT (1792-1847). Diplomatist and prose writer of Massachusetts. Ambassador at The Hague in 1818, and at Madrid in 1825. For several years editor and proprietor of The North American Review. His principal works are " Europe," " America," and " Critical and Miscellaneous Essays." EDWARD EVERKTT (1794-1865). A distinguished orator and statesman of Massachusetts. Editor of The North American Review, member of Con- gress, Governor of Massachusetts, Minister to the Court of Saint James, President of Harvard College, and Secretary of State. Principal works "Defence of Christianity," "Orations and Speeches," and "Importance of Practical Education." CATHARINE MARIA SEDGWICK (1780-1867). A famous educator and nov- elist of Massachusetts. She conducted a school for girls at Stockbridge for fifty years. Among her novels are " Hope Leslie," " Clarence," " A New England Tale," and " Redwood," which had the distinction of being reprinted in England and translated into several Continental languages. LYDIA HUNTLY SIGOURNEY (1791-1865). A Connecticut writer of both prose and poetry; well described as "The American Hemans." Among her fifty-three volumes are " Traits of the Aborigines of America," " Post Meridian," " Letters to Young Ladies," " Poems," etc. LYDIA MARIA CHILD (1802-1880). A well-known editor and prose writer of Massachusetts. Among her numerous writings may be mentioned " Hobomok, an Indian Story," " The Rebels," a tale of the American Revolution, " History of the Condition of Women in All Ages and Na- tions," " Looking toward Sunset," and " The Romance of the Republic." WASHINGTON ALLSTON (1779-1843). A famous painter, poet, and prose writer, who, though born in South Carolina, belongs by residence to Massachusetts. Author of the poem " The Sylphs of the Seasons," and the art novel " Monaldi." His " Lectures on Art " appeared after his death. RICHARD HENRY DANA (1787-1879). A poet, editor, and prose writer of Massachusetts. One of the founders of the North American Review ; author of "The Buccaneer and Other Poems," and the novels "Tom Thornton," and " Paul Felton." WILLIAM HICKLING PRESCOTT (1796-1859). A celebrated historian of Bos- ton. Author of a series of standard histories on Spanish themes : " His- tory of Ferdinand and Isabella," " Conquest of Mexico," " Conquest of Peru," and " Philip the Second." (See text.) FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. 97 JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY (1814-1877). A distinguished author of Massachu- setts, who wrote an admirable series of historical works relating to Hol- land : " The Rise of the Dutch Republic," " The History of the United Netherlands," and " Life of John of Barneveld." He wrote, also, two novels, " Morton's Hope," and " Merry Mount." (See text.) GEORGE BANCROFI' (1800-1891). A statesman and historian of Massachu- setts. Minister to England 1846-1849, and to Prussia and Germany 1867-1874. Author of a standard " History of the United States," writ- ten in rhetorical style. (See text.) RICHARD HILDRETH (1807-1865). A lawyer and journalist of Boston, who wrote a "History of the United States" down to 1820. Among other things he wrote an antislavery novel, " Archy Moore," and "Japan as it Was and Is." JAMES GORHAM PALFREY (1796-1881). A Unitarian clergyman of Cam- bridge, Mass., and Professor in Harvard University. He wrote a pains- taking " History of New England." FRANCES SARGENT OSGOOD (1812-1850). A poet and magazine writer of Massachusetts. A volume of poems, " A Wreath of Wild Flowers from New England," was much admired in its day. " Mrs. Osgood," wrote Poe, " has a rich fancy, even a rich imagination, a scrupulous taste, a faultless style, and an ear finely attuned to the delicacies of melody." JAMES T. FIELDS (1817-1881). A well-known publisher, editor, and author of Boston. Born in New Hampshire. Edited the Atlantic Monthly from 1861 to 1871. Besides a volume or two of verse, he wrote "Yesterdays with Authors," and " Underbrush," a collection of essays. JACOB ABBOTT (1803-1879). A native of Maine, and a voluminous author of books for the young. Among his works are the " Rollo Books " (28 vote.), "The Lucy Books" (6 vols.), and Harper's Story-Books" (36 vols.). JOHN S. C. ABBOTT (1805-1877). Brother of Jacob Abbott, and, like him, a minister. Author of numerous moral and historical works, the latter being characterized by a partisan tone. Noteworthy are " History of Napoleon Bonaparte," "Napoleon at Saint Helena," "The French Revo- lution of 1789," etc. JOSIAH GILBERT HOLLAND (1819-1881). Poet, novelist, and editor of Mas- sachusetts. Edited the Springfield Republican 1849-1 866, and Scribner's Magazine from 1870 till his death. His longest poems are " Katrina," and " Bitter-Sweet " ; his best novels are " Miss Gilbert's Career," "Arthur Bonnicastle," and "The Story of Sevenoaks." 98 AMERICAN LITERATURE. HARRIET BEECHER STOWE (1812-1896). A native of Connecticut, and author of numerous novels of unequal merit. Her " Uncle Tom's Cabin " has been, perhaps, the most widely read of American books. Other novels are "The Minister's Wooing," "The Pearl of Orr's Island," "Oldtown Folks," etc. FRANCIS PARKMAN (1823-1893). An eminent historian of Massachusetts, who wrote a number of volumes under the general title, " France and England in North America." MIDDLE STATES. JAMES K. PAULDING (1779-1860). A versatile author of New York City, though born in Maryland. Secretary of the Navy under Van Buren. Among his numerous writings are " The Diverting History of John Bull and Brother Jonathan," "The Dutchman's Fireside," "Life of George Washington," and a spirited defence of slavery in America. (See text.) JOSEPH RODMAN DRAKE (1795-1820). A physician of New York City, author of "The Culprit Fay," a poem of considerable merit, and the well-known lyric, "The American Flag." A friend of Fitz-Greene Halleck, with whom he worked for a time in literary partnership. (See text.) FITZ-GREENE HALLECK (1790-1867). A native of Connecticut, but for many years clerk in a New York banking-house, and later confidential adviser to John Jacob Astor. Author of a long poem called " Fanny," and of the stirring lyric, " Marco Bozzaris." (See text.) SAMUEL WOODWORTH (1786-1842). A publisher, prose writer, and poet of New York City, though born in Massachusetts. One of the founders of The New York Mirror, long the most popular journal in this country. Author of an " Account of the War with Great Britain," and a volume of "Poems, Odes, and Songs," the most popular of which is "The Old Oaken Bucket." WILLIAM WARE (1797-1852). Unitarian minister, lecturer, editor of the Christian Examiner, and historical novelist of New York City. Prin- cipal works, " Zenobia," originally published in the Knickerbocker Maga- zine, " Aurelian," describing Rome in the third century, and " Julian, or Scenes in Judea," in which the most striking incidents in the life of Jesus are described. JAMES GATES PERCIVAL (1795-1856). A native of Connecticut, Professor of Chemistry at West Point, and State Geologist of Wisconsin. Assisted Noah Webster in revising his large dictionary. He published several vol- umes of poetry, the last and best known of which is entitled "The Dream of Day and Other Poems." FIRS 7' NATIONAL PERIOD. 99 SARAH JOSEPHA HALE (1788-1879). A poet, prose-writer, and editor, who was born in New Hampshire. Edited the Ladies' Magazine in Boston from 1828 to 1837, tne nrst periodical in this country devoted exclusively to woman, and afterwards combined with Godey's Lady's Book of Phila- delphia, of which she was editor for forty years. Principal works, " The Genius of Oblivion and Other Poems," "Northwood, a Tale," " Sketches of American Character," and " Woman's Record." GEORGE P. MORRIS (1802-1864). A journalist and poet of New York City. In 1823, with Samuel Wood worth, he established The New York Mirror. Among his works are "The Deserted Bride and Other Poems," "The Whip-poor-will, a Poem," "American Melodies," and, in conjunction with Willis, "The Prose and Poetry of Europe and America." His most popular piece is " Woodman, Spare that Tree." NATHANIEL P. WILLIS (1806-1867). A popular litterateur of New York City, editor of The Mirror. Once overrated and now, perhaps, unduly neglected. His " Sacred Poems " are excellent, as are also some of his miscellaneous pieces. Among his other works are " People I have Met," " Pencillings by the Way," and " Letters from under a Bridge." SAMUEL G. GOODRICH (1793-1860). A publisher and author of Boston and New York, best known as " Peter Parley." He wrote a series of books for children which extended through more than a hundred volumes. Among his other works are " The Outcast and Other Poems," " Fireside Educa- tion," " History of All Nations," and " Illustrated Natural History." JOHN GODFREY SAXE (1816-1887). A journalist and poet of New York, though born in Vermont. In humorous poetry he ranks next to Holmes. The titles of his successive works are " The Money King and Other Poems," "Clever Stories of Many Nations," "The Masquerade," "Fables and Legends of Many Countries," etc. WALT WHITMAN (1819-1892). Printer, schoolteacher, carpenter, and poet, a native of New York. His principal work, " Leaves of Grass." By some assigned a very high rank, by others scarcely regarded as a poet at all. THOMAS BUCHANAN READ (1822-1872). A painter and poet of Philadelphia. His first volume of poems appeared in 1837. Among his other works are "The Female Poets of America," "The New Pastoral," "The Wagoner of the Alleghanies." His most popular poem is "Sheridan's Ride," though poetically inferior to " Drifting." BENSON J. LOSSING (1813-1891). A biographer and historian of New York. Among his numerous works are a " Life of Washington," " Field-Book of the Revolution," and " Pictorial History of the United States." IOO AMERICAN LITERATURE. BAYARD TAYLOR (1825-1878). A well-known traveller, poet, and novelist of Pennsylvania. Among his best works are "Views Afoot," "Byways of Europe," "Lars, a Pastoral of Norway," "Masque of the Gods," "Prince Deukalion," " Story of Kenneth," and a translation of Goethe's " Faust," by which he will be longest known. GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS (1824-1892). Editor, essayist, and novelist of New York. A member of the famous Brook Farm Association. For thirty-five years he filled the Easy Chair department of Harper's Monthly, and was political editor of Harper's Weekly for nearly the same length of time. His principal works are " Prue and I," "Trumps," and " Potiphar Papers," a satire upon society. THE SOUTH. WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS (1806-1870). A native of South Carolina, and voluminous writer of fiction and poetry. He wrote a dozen volumes of verse, among which are " Atalantis " and " Areytos, or Songs and Ballads of the South," and some thirty romances, among which are "The Yemas- see," "The Partisan," and "Beauchampe." (See text.) RICHARD HENRY WILDE (1789-1847). A lawyer and member of Congress from Georgia, author of a " Life of Tasso," and the beautiful lyric, " My Life is Like the Summer Rose." JOHN PENDLETON KENNEDY (1795-1870). A novelist and politician of Maryland, and Secretary of the Navy under Fillmore. He wrote old- time society novels, among which are " Swallow Barn," " Horse-Shoe Robinson," and " Rob of the Bowl." JOHN ESTEN COOKE (1830-1886). A noted novelist and historian of Vir- ginia. Among his novels, founded on the early history of Virginia and on the events of the Civil War, are " Henry St. John," " Surrey of Eagle's Nest," and " The Virginia Comedians." He wrote also a " Life of Gen- eral Lee," and " Virginia, a History of the People." (See text.) JOHN R. THOMPSON (1823-1873). A lawyer and litterateur of Virginia. Editor of The Southern Literary Messenger from 1847 to l %59' Once popular as a lyric poet. FRANCIS SCOTT KEY (1779-1843). A lawyer and poet of Maryland. His "Poems" were published after his death in 1857, with a sketch by his brother-in-law, Chief Justice Taney. His literary fame is due chiefly to "The Star-spangled Banner," written during the bombardment of Fort McHenry. FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. IOI EDWARD COATE PINKNEY (1802-1828). A lawyer and poet of Baltimore. He displayed an excellent lyric gift in the volume of " Poems " published in 1825. PHILIP PENDLETON COOKE (1816-1850). A lawyer and poet of Virginia. In 1857 he published his " Froissart Ballads, and Other Poems," which con- tains his well-known lyric " Florence Vane." GEORGE D. PRENTICE (1802-1870). An editor and poet, who, through the Journal, made Louisville one of the literary centres of the South. He wrote a " Life of Henry Clay," and a collection of his witty and pungent paragraphs has been published under the title " Prenticeana." His best poems are "The Closing Year" and "The Flight of Years." PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE (1830-1886). A native of South Carolina, and, considering the quantity and quality of his verse, one of the very best poets the South has produced. A complete edition of his " Poems " appeared in 1882. (See text.) HENRY TIMROD (1829-1867). A poet and editor of South Carolina. He possessed a genuine lyrical gift. His "Poems" were published in 1873 with a generous tribute by Hayne. (See text.) IV. FIXST NATIONAL PERIOD. (1815-1861.) THE First National Period extends from the close of the War of 1812 to the beginning of the Civil War. It covers nearly half a century, and exhibits great national expansion. The arduous tasks imposed upon the people during the Colonial and Revolutionary Periods were suc- cessfully achieved. The dreams of our forefathers began to be realized. "America," says Hegel, " is the land of the future, where in the ages that lie before us the bur- den of the world's history shall reveal itself." During the period under consideration it made a long stride toward its coming greatness. With the establishment of peace in 1815, the United States entered upon an unparalleled era of prosperity. The development of the country went forward with great rapidity. An increasing tide of immigration, chiefly from Great Britain, Ireland, and Germany, swept to our shores. Of kindred blood, the great body of immigrants readily adjusted themselves to their new surroundings, and vig- orously joined with our native-born people in developing the agricultural, mineral, and industrial resources of our country. The population increased from 8,438,000 in 1815 to 32,000,000 in 1861, thus equalling the leading nations of Europe. 102 FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. 1 03 The great valley of the Mississippi was occupied. Its fertility made it one of the most favored agricultural re- gions in the world. The invention of agricultural machi- nery made it possible to harvest immense crops of wheat and corn, for which a market was found in Europe. Trade and manufactures naturally attended upon agriculture ; and, as a result, flourishing towns and cities sprang up with unexampled rapidity. Cincinnati grew from a town of 5,000 in 1 8 1 5 to a city of 161,000 in 1860, while the growth of St. Louis and Chicago was still more phenomenal. The Atlantic States showed a development no less re- markable. The frontier, carried beyond the Mississippi, made the toils and dangers of border life a tradition. The invention of the steam-engine gave a new impulse to com- merce and manufacture. In addition to excellent high- ways, railroads traversed the country in all directions. The New England States developed large manufacturing interests. The seaboard cities grew in size, wealth, and cul- ture. Baltimore increased from 49,000 in 181 5 to 212,000 in 1860. Within the same period, Boston increased from 38,000 to 177,000; Philadelphia from 100,000 to 508,000 ; and New York from 100,000 to 813,000. The intellectual' culture of the people kept pace with their material expansion. The public-school system was extended from New England throughout the free States. In the West liberal appropriations of land were made for their support. Gradually the courses of study and the methods of instruction were improved through the efforts of intelligent educators like Horace Mann and Henry Barnard. Schools of secondary education were founded in all parts of the country. No fewer than one hundred and forty-nine colleges were established between 1815 and 104 AMERICAN LITERATURE. 1861. These institutions, liberally supported by denomi- national zeal or by private munificence, became centres of literary culture. Harvard College exerted an astonishing influence. Between 1821 and 1831 it graduated Emerson, Holmes, Lowell, Sumner, Phillips, Motley, and Thoreau. Bancroft and Prescott were graduated* at an earlier date. Longfellow, though a graduate of Bowdoin, for some years filled the chair of Modern Languages. This list, as will be seen, contains a number of the most honored names in American literature. The periodical press became a powerful agency in the diffusion of knowledge. In no other country, perhaps, has greater enterprise been shown in periodical literature than in America. Our newspapers, as a rule, show more energy, and our magazines more taste, than those of Eu- rope. In 1860 there were 4,051 papers and periodicals, circulating annually 927,951,000 copies, an average of thirty-four copies for each man, woman, and child in the country. They gradually rose in excellence, and stimu- lated literary production. A few of our ablest writers, Bryant, Poe, Whittier, and Lowell, served as editors. The North American Review, which was founded in 1815, numbered among its contributors nearly every writer of prominence in the First National Period. As the foregoing considerations show, our country now, for the first time, presented conditions favorable to the production of general literature. The stress of the Colo- nial and Revolutionary Periods was removed, and the in- tellectual energies of the people were freer to engage in the arts of peace. The growing wealth of the country brought the leisure and culture that create, to a greater or less degree, a demand for the higher forms of literature. FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. 1 05 The large cities became literary centres. Large publish- ing-houses were established. Under these circumstances it is not strange that there appeared writers in poetry, fiction, and history who attained a high degree of excel- lence. Irving, Cooper, Bryant, Hawthorne, Longfellow, Bancroft, Prescott, and others are names that reflect credit upon their country. It will be noticed that nearly all the great writers of this period were from New England. It was there that the conditions were most favorable. The West was still too new for much literary activity. Like the early colo- nists, the people were engaged in the great task of sub- duing an untamed country. In the South the social conditions were hardly favorable to literature. Slavery retarded the intellectual as well as the material develop- ment of the Southern States. It checked manufacture, and turned immigration westward. While the slavehold- ing class were generally intelligent, and often highly cultured, the rest of the white population were compara- tively illiterate. The public-school system, regarded as un- favorable to the existing social relations, was not adopted. The energies of the dominant class were devoted to poli- tics rather than to literature. Thus, while the South had great debaters and orators, like Calhoun and Clay, and Robert Y. Hayne, it did not, during this period, produce many writers of eminence. So far our inquiry has sought an explanation of the literary activity of this period. The general causes, as in every period of literary bloom, are sufficiently patent. We may now examine the influences that gave literature its distinctive character as contrasted with that of the pre- ceding periods. The result will not be without interest. 106 AMERICAN LITERATURE. The period under consideration witnessed a wonderful stride in the march of human progress. There was a re- naissance, based not on a restoration of ancient literature, but upon invention and science. It was not confined to any one country, but extended throughout the Christian world. It is not necessary to enumerate the various in- ventions which in a few decades revolutionized the entire system of agriculture, manufacture, and commerce. The drudgery of life was greatly relieved, the products of hu- man industry were vastly increased, and the comforts of life largely multiplied. The nations of the earth were drawn closer together, and the intellectual horizon was extended until it embraced, not a single province, but the civilized world. Bat the period was distinguished scarcely less by its spirit of scientific inquiry. Emancipating themselves largely from the authority of tradition, men learned to Jook upon the world for themselves. Patient toilers care- fully accumulated facts upon which to base their conclu- sions. All the natural sciences were wonderfully expanded. The origin of man, the history of the past, the laws of society, were all brought under new and searching investi- gation. As a result of all this scientific inquiry, a flood of light was shed upon the principal problems of nature and life. Christendom was lifted to a higher plane of in- telligence than it had ever reached before. This general renaissance produced a corresponding change in literature. It enriched literature with new treasures of truth. It taught men to look upon the uni- verse in a different way. Literary activity was stimulated, and both poetry and prose were cultivated to an extraor- dinary degree. New forms of literature were devised to FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. IO/ hold the rich fruitage everywhere at hand. The frigid classicism of the age of Pope was abandoned as artificial and inadequate. The creative impulse of genius demanded untrammelled freedom. The essay acquired a new impor- tance. History was suffused with a philosophic spirit that gave it greater depth. Fiction entered a broader field, and while ministering to pleasure, became the handmaid of history, science, and social philosophy. The effect of this renaissance was felt in America largely by reflection. The literary expansion we have been considering went forward more rapidly in the British Isles than in the United States. It had already begun there, while the people of this country were still strug- gling with the great problems of political independence and national government. Before the close of the Revo- lutionary period here, Cowper and Burns had given a new direction to poetry in Great Britain. During the period under consideration, there arose in England and Scotland a group of able writers who were pervaded by the mod- ern spirit, and who, to a greater or less degree, influenced contemporary literature in America. Scott wrote his mas- terful historical novels. Wordsworth interpreted the in- audible voices of mountain, field, and sky. Byron poured forth his eloquent descriptions, irreverent satire, and som- bre misanthropy. Carlyle and Macaulay infused new life into history and essay. Dickens and Thackeray held up the mirror to various phases of social life. Coleridge in- terpreted to England the profound thoughts of German philosophy. The Edinburgh Review, founded by Jeffrey, Sydney Smith, and Henry Brougham, exercised its lordly dominion in the realm of letters. During the First National Period, there were two po- IO8 AMERICAN LITERATURE. litical questions that exerted a considerable influence upon the literature of this country. These were State rights and slavery. At frequent intervals these questions came up to disturb the public peace. For half a century they were dealt with in a spirit of compromise. But the views held and the interests involved were too conflicting to be permanently settled without an appeal to force. The statesmen of the South generally maintained the doctrine of State rights. It was boldly proclaimed in the United States Senate that a State had the right, under certain circumstances, to nullify an act of Congress. In 1830 Webster attained the height of his forensic fame by his eloquent reply to Hayne on the doctrine of nullification. The question of slavery was still more serious. It was closely interwoven with the social organization of the South. The invention of the cotton gin in 1793 increased the demand for slave labor. The yield of cotton was rap- idly increased from year to year, till in 1860 it reached the enormous figure of 2,054,698,800 pounds. Thus cotton became a source of great national wealth ; and as a result, slavery was intrenched behind the commercial and selfish interests of a large and influential class in all parts of the country. Nevertheless, there was a growing moral sentiment against slavery. It was felt to be a contradiction of the Declaration of Independence, and a violation of the natu- ral rights of man. In 1830 William Lloyd Garrison began the publication of an antislavery paper called The Libera- tor, and with passionate zeal denounced a constitution that protected slavery, as " a league with death and a covenant with hell." The agitation for abolition was begun. In 1833 an antislavery society was formed. Whittier, Long- FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. IOQ fellow, Lowell, Phillips, and others lent the weight of their influence and the skill of their pens to the antislavery movement. Harriet Beecher Stowe exerted no small in- fluence upon public sentiment in the North by " Uncle Tom's Cabin," a work in which the cruelties of slavery were graphically depicted. In a few years the /abolition party became strong enough to enter national politics. The feeling between the North and the South became more pronounced and irreconcilable. Finally attempted secession precipitated a civil war, which resulted in the abolition of slavery, and the cementing of our country into a homogeneous and indissoluble union. With the First National Period our literature assumed, to some extent at least, a distinctively American charac- ter. New themes, requiring original treatment, were pre- sented to the literary worker. In the East, Indian life had become sufficiently remote to admit of idealistic treat- ment. In Cooper's works the Indian is idealized as much as the mediaeval knight in the novels of Scott. The pic- turesque elements in pioneer life were more clearly dis- cerned. The wild life of the frontiersman began to appear in fiction, which, possessing the charm of novelty, was cor- dially received abroad. In the older parts of the country, tradition lent a legendary charm to various localities and different events. The legends of the Indians were found to possess poetic elements. From these sources Irving, Longfellow, Hawthorne, and Simms drew the materials for some of their most original and popular works. In the first half of the present century there were in New England two closely related movements that deserve mention for their important effect upon literature. The first of these was the Unitarian controversy. Though the I 10 AMERICAN LITERATURE. Unitarian doctrine is very old, and was held by a few New England churches in the eighteenth century, the contro- versy began in 1805, when Henry Ware, a learned Unita- rian, was elected professor of divinity in Harvard College. The capture of this leading institution by the Unitarians naturally provoked a theological conflict. The champions on the Unitarian side were Henry Ware, William Ellery Channing, and Andrews Norton ; on the Trinitarian side, Leonard Woods, Moses Stuart, and Lyman Beecher. From 1815 to 1830 the discussion was the leading ques- tion of the time. Though conducted with great earnest- ness on both sides, the controversy was without that venomous character distinguished as odium theologicum. A large number of Congregational churches adopted the Unitarian belief. Emphasizing the moral duties rather than the doctrinal beliefs of Christianity, the Unitarians be- came very active in education, philanthropy, and reform. It is not too much to say that all the leading writers of New England felt the stimulating and liberalizing influence of the Unitarian movement. The other movement referred to belongs to the sphere of philosophy, though it also affected religious belief. It has been characterized as transcendentalism. In spite of the levity with which the movement has sometimes been treated, it was an earnest protest against a materialistic philosophy, which teaches that the senses are our only source of knowledge. It was a reaction against what is dull, prosaic, and hard in every-day life. The central thing in transcendentalism is the belief that the human mind has the power to attain truth independently of the senses and the understanding. Emerson, himself a lead- ing transcendentalist, defines it as follows : " What is FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. Ill popularly called. Transcendentalism among us is Idealism : Idealism as it appears in 1842. As thinkers, mankind have ever divided into two sects, Materialists and Ideal- ists ; the first class founding on experience, the second on consciousness ; the first class beginning to think from the data of the senses, the second class perceive that the senses are not final, and say, the senses give us represen- tations of things, but what are the things themselves, they cannot tell. The materialist insists on facts, on history, on the force of circumstances and the animal wants of man ; the idealist on the power of Thought and of Will, on inspiration, on miracle, on individual culture." This idealistic or transcendental philosophy did not originate in New England, though it received a special coloring and application there. It began in Germany with the writings of Kant, Fichte, and Schelling ; it was transported m to England by Coleridge and Carlyle, through whose works it first made its way to America. It abounded in profound and fertile thought. It was taken up by a remarkable group of men and women in Boston and Con- cord, among whom were Emerson, Alcott, Thoreau, Parker, and Margaret Fuller. Their organ (for every movement at that time had to have its periodical) was The Dial. Transcendentalism exerted an elevating influence upon New England thought, and gave to our literature one of its greatest writers in the person of Ralph Waldo Emerson. Contemporary with the transcendental movement, all sorts of novelties and projects of reform kept New Eng- land in a state of ferment. Spiritualism, phrenology, and mesmerism attracted much attention. Temperance, woman's rights, and socialism were all discussed in public gatherings and in the press. Many of these schemes, 1 1 2 AMERICAN LITERA TURE. which aimed at the regeneration of society, had the sym- pathy and encouragement of the transcendentalists. Some of their leading spirits participated in the Brook Farm ex- periment, which was based on the communistic teachings of Fourier. Though the experiment ended in failure, it gave the world Hawthorne's " Blithedale Romance," in which the author utilized the observations made during his residence in the famous phalanstery. During this period New England produced a group of historians who have reflected credit upon American letters. To exhaustive research and judicial calmness, they have added the charm of literary grace. Bancroft's " History of the United States " in twelve volumes begins with Columbus and ends in 1789. The first volume appeared in 1834; and to the completion of the work he devoted a large part of his laborious life. The last volume did not appear till 1882. His style is elaborate and rhetorical, and the work abounds in eloquent passages. Prescott is a historian of wide range. Though heavily handicapped by partial blindness, he was able, through ample means and indefatigable industry, to achieve great eminence. His chosen field was Spanish history ; and he spared neither pains nor expense in accumulating large stores of material. His " History of Ferdinand and Isa- bella," which occupied him for eleven years, appeared in 1837. It was at once translated into five European lan- guages, and established his reputation as the foremost historian of America. His "Conquest of Mexico" (1843), "Conquest of Peru" (1847), and "Philip the Second" (1858) were received with equal favor. Apart from its thorough sifting of material and its judicial fairness, his work is characterized by grace and eloquence of style. FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. 113 Motley deserves a place beside his illustrious contem- porary historians. If less ornate in style, he is scarcely less interesting. Like Bancroft and Prescott, he was educated at Harvard. In 1849 he published a novel entitled " Merry Mount, a Romance of Massachusetts Colony." But the principal literary labors of his life were devoted to history. In 1855 he published his " Rise of the Dutch Republic," which had cost him ten years of toil. Its superior merit was at once recognized; and shortly afterwards it was translated into French under the supervision of Guizot, who wrote an introduction. Motley continued to cultivate the same field almost to the close of his life. His " History of the United Netherlands," the first part of which appeared in 1860, was completed eight years later. "The Life and Death of John of Barneveld," his last great historical work, was issued in 1874; and, like its predecessors, was received with great favor. It is deserving of notice that many of our American authors have been more than mere men of letters. They have been distinguished citizens as well, and have served their country in important positions at home and abroad. Bancroft was appointed Secretary of the Navy in 1845, and established the Naval Academy at Annapolis. After- wards he served as United States minister to Great Britain, 1846-1849, to Russia in 1867, and to the German Empire, 1871-1874. Motley was appointed United States minister to Austria in 1861, where he remained for the next six years. He was made minister to England in 1869, from which mission, however, he was recalled the year following without apparent good reason. The distinguished labors of Irving and Lowell abroad will appear in the more ex- tended sketches to follow. 114 AMERICAN LITERATURE. A group of writers in New York, without sufficient reason sometimes called "the Knickerbocker school," deserve more than passing notice. Washington Irving, the principal writer of this group, is reserved for special study. The other prominent members were James Kirke Paulding, Joseph Rodman Drake, and Fitz-Greene Halleck. Paulding, whose educational advantages never extended beyond those of a village school, deserves to be regarded as a self-made man. In early manhood he became the intimate friend of William and Washington Irving, with whom he co-operated in the publication of the Salmagundi papers. "The Diverting History of John Bull and Brother Jonathan " is a good-natured satire on the attitude of Eng- land before the breaking out of hostilities in 1812. His pamphlet "The United States and England" (1814) at- tracted the attention of President Madison, and thus opened the way to his political career, in which he became Secretary of the Navy under a subsequent administration. His principal poetical work is the " Backwoodsman," a narrative poem of six books, devoted to American scenery, incident, and sentiment. It never became popular. Paulding's prolific pen continued active for many years, and the long list of his writings contains poetry, novels, tales, biography, and satire. "The Dutchman's Fireside," a story based on the manners of the old Dutch settlers, was his most popular work. It passed through six edi- tions within a year ; and besides its republication in Lon- don, it was translated into French and Dutch. Paulding's writings were tinged with a humorous and satirical spirit ; but the most noteworthy element in his writings was, perhaps, their distinctive national character. He was an FIRST NA TIONAL PERIOD. \ \ 5 ardent patriot ; and it is American scenery and American character to which his genius is chiefly devoted. Drake exhibited in childhood a remarkable poetic pre- cocity. It was as true of him as of Pope that " he lisped in numbers, for the numbers came." His juvenile poem, " The Mocking Bird," shows unusual maturity of thought and expression. His early years were disciplined by pov- erty. After taking his degree in medicine, he married the daughter of a wealthy shipbuilder in 1816, and two years later went abroad. Travel added to his stores of culture. On his return he spent a winter in New Orleans in the vain endeavor to restore his health. He died of consump- tion in 1820. His monument bears the simple tribute written by his friend Halleck : "None knew him but to love him, Nor named him but to praise." On his return from Europe in 1819, he wrote the first of the Croaker series of poems for the Evening Post. It was entitled " Ennui," and characterized by the editor as "the production of genius and taste." In this series of forty poems, mostly humorous and satirical, he was aided by Halleck under the pen-name of Croaker, Jr. It was in this series that he published "The American Flag," the oft- quoted poem by which; perhaps, he is chiefly remembered. " When Freedom from her mountain height Unfurled her standard to the air, She tore the azure robe of night, And set the stars of glory there." "The Culprit Fay," his longest and best poem, grew out of a conversation with Cooper, Halleck, and DeKay, in which these gentlemen maintained that American Il6 AMERICAN LITERATURE. streams, unlike those of Scotland with their romantic asso- ciations, were not adapted to the uses of poetry. Drake took the opposite side ; and in vindication of his position, he wrote this poem of exquisite fancy and description. Halleck was a native of Connecticut, but at the age of twenty-one he went to New York to seek his fortune. He first entered a banking-house as clerk, and afterwards became a bookkeeper in the private office of John Jacob Astor. His literary bent found expression in a few juvenile poems ; -but it was his work in connection with the Croaker poems in the Evening Post that first gave him celebrity. The following stanza from " Cutting" will give an idea of the tone and spirit of the Croaker series : " The world is not a perfect one, All women are not wise or pretty, All that are willing are not won, More's the pity more's the pity ! ' Playing wall-flower's rather flat,' L' Allegro or Penseroso Not that women care for that But oh ! they hate the slighting beau so ! " " Fanny " is a satirical poem, which made a hit. The first edition was soon exhausted. But his principal claim upon our remembrance rests on the stirring ballad " Marco Bozzaris," which appeared in 1825 in the United States Review, edited by William Cullen Bryant. His poem on Burns, though burdened with not a few weak stanzas, con- tains some just and melodious characterization. Through care, and pain, and woe, " He kept his honesty and truth, His independent tongue and pen, And moved, in manhood as in youth, Pride of his fellow-men." FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. 117 It has been common to undervalue the literary work of the South during the period under consideration. Though literature was not generally encouraged, there were never- theless two literary centres which exerted a notable influ- ence upon Southern letters. The first was Richmond, the home of Poe during his earlier years, and of the Southern Literary Messenger, in its day the most influential maga- zine south of the Potomac. It was founded, as set forth in its first issue, to encourage literature in Virginia and the other States of the South ; and during its career of twenty- eight years it stimulated literary production in a remark- able degree. Among its contributors we find Simms, Hayne, Timrod, Cooke, John R. Thompson, and others a galaxy of the best known names in Southern litera- ture before the Civil War. The principal novelist of Virginia is undoubtedly John Esten Cooke. He has been called an inveterate book- maker; and the list of his writings, including biography, history, and fiction, exceeds a score of volumes. His first novel, " Leather Stocking and Silk," a story of the valley of Virginia, was issued by the Harpers in 1854. Not long afterwards appeared " The Virginia Comedians," regarded by many as his best work. It is a historical novel, intro- ducing us to the life and manners of Virginia just before the Revolution. During four years of service in the Confederate army he distinguished himself for fidelity and courage. After the surrender of Lee, he returned to literature, and turned to good account the treasures of his own experience. " I amuse myself," he said in one of his prologues, "by recall- ing the old times when the Grays and Blues were opposed to each other." " Surrey of Eagle's Nest," giving the 1 1 8 AMERICAN LITERA TURE. memories of a staff officer serving in Virginia, is regarded as autobiographical. He wrote also a "Life of General Robert E. Lee," and a " History of Virginia," in the American Commonwealth series. The other principal literary centre of the South was Charleston. It has often been called the Boston of the South. " Legare's wit and scholarship," to use the words of Mrs. Margaret J. Preston, " brightened its social circle ; Calhoun's deep shadow loomed over it from his plantation at Fort Hill ; Gilmore Simms's genial culture broadened its sympathies. The latter was the Maecenas to a band of brilliant youths who used to meet for literary suppers at his beautiful home." Among these brilliant youths were Paul Hamilton Hayne and Henry Timrod, two of the best poets the South has produced. William Gilmore Simms was a man of rare versatility of genius. He made up for his lack of collegiate training by private study and wide experience. He early gave up law for literature, and during his long and tireless literary career was editor, poet, dramatist, historian, and novelist. He has been styled " the Cooper of the South " ; but it is hardly too much to say that in versatility, culture, and literary productiveness he surpassed his great Northern contemporary. Simms was a poet before he became a novelist. Before he was twenty-five he had published three or more volumes of verse. In 1832 his imaginative poem, "Atalantis, a Story of the Sea," was brought out by the Harpers, and it intro- duced him at once to the favorable notice of what Poe called the " Literati " of New York. His subsequent volumes of poetry, among which " Areytos, or Songs and Ballads of the South," is to be noted, were devoted chiefly to a descrip- tion of Southern scenes and incidents. FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. 1 19 Among the best of Simms's novels is a series devoted to the Revolution. The characters and incidents of that con- flict in South Carolina are graphically portrayed. " The Partisan," the first of this historic series, was published in 1835. "The Yemassee " is an Indian story, in which the character of the red man is less idealized than in Cooper's " Leatherstocking Tales." In "The Damsel of Darien," the hero is Balboa, the discoverer of the Pacific. The verse of Simms is characterized by facile vigor rather than by fine poetic quality. The following lines are not without a lesson for to-day : "This the true sign of ruin to a race It undertakes no march, and day by day Drowses in camp, or, with the laggard's pace, Walks sentry o'er possessions that decay ; Destined, with sensible waste, to fleet away ; For the first secret of continued power Is the continued conquest ; all our sway Hath surety in the uses of the hour ; If that we waste, in vain walled town and lofty tower." Paul Hamilton Hayne has been called " the poet laureate of the South." This proud distinction is due him for the range and excellence of his work, as well as for its quantity. He rises highest above the commonplace, and by the ex- quisite finish of his poetry displays a fine artistic genius. Other American poets have shown greater originality and have treated of weightier or more popular themes ; but it may be fairly doubted whether any other has had a more exquisite delicacy of touch. In fineness of poetic fibre he is akin to Tennyson. The poetic impulse, to which he surrendered his life with rare singleness of purpose, manifested itself early. His first volume of poems appeared in 1855, his second in I2O AMERICAN LITERATURE. 1857, and his third in 1860. These volumes reveal the spirit and workmanship of a true poet. In " The Will and the Wing" he exhibits a loyal consecration to his art: " Yet would I rather in the outward state Of Song's immortal temple lay me down, A beggar basking by that radiant gate, Than bend beneath the haughtiest empire's crown. " For sometimes, through the bars, my ravished eyes Have caught bright glimpses of a life divine, And seen a far, mysterious rapture rise Beyond the veil that guards the inmost shrine." Nature in all its shapes and moods had for him a per- petual charm. The glorious dawns of the Southland, the monarch of the woods, the mellowing fields touched by evening's glow, the songs of happy-throated birds, the lapse of silvery streamlets through the hills, are all de- picted with almost matchless delicacy and truth. But it was not alone the outward beauty of earth and sky that appealed to him. Like Wordsworth, he was conscious of an immanent Presence that imparted a deep spiritual mean- ing to the objects about him : " The universe of God is still, not dumb, For many voices in sweet undertone To reverent listeners come." At the outbreak of the Civil War, Hayne was placed on Governor Pickens's staff ; but after a brief term of service he was forced, by failing health, to resign. His war poetry attains a rare elevation of thought and diction. Without hate or vindictiveness, he celebrates heroes and deeds of heroism the chivalry that "wrought grandly and died smiling." FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. 121 The war left him in poverty. The bombardment of Charleston had destroyed his beautiful home ; and the family silver and other treasures, which had been removed to Columbia for safe-keeping, were lost in Sherman's " march to the sea." His manly courage, one of the dominant notes in his music, did not desert him. He built near Augusta, Ga., a primitive cottage, to which he gave the name Copse Hill, and in which the rest of his days were spent in brave hopefulness. He portrayed his own spirit when he wrote : " Still smiles the brave soul, undivorced from hope; And with unwavering eye and warrior mien, Walks in the shadow dauntless and serene, To test, through hostile years, the utmost scope Of man's endurance constant to essay All heights of patience free to feet of clay." Henry Timrod's life resembles that of Keats. It is a melancholy record of poverty, ill health, unappreciation, and disaster. There is a deep pathos in the struggles and premature ending of this gifted life. He keenly felt the indifference with which his songs were received, and it chilled the poetic ardor of his soul. He was a native of Charleston. Like so many other poets in whom the liter- ary impulse has been strong, he gave up law for literature. In 1849, under the nom de plume of " Aglaus," he began a series of contributions to the Southern Literary Messenger, some of which have not found a place in his collected writings. He contributed, also, to Russell's Magazine, under the editorship of Hayne, in which some of his best productions appeared.. In 1860 a small volume of his poems was published in Boston. Though, in the opinion of Hayne, "a better 122 AMERICAN LITERATURE. first volume of the kind seldom appeared anywhere," it attracted but little attention. The beginning of the Civil War called forth some fiery lyrics especially "Carolina" and " A Cry to Arms" which in the excitement of the time appealed strongly to Southern hearts. They are as intense in their sectional feeling as the antislavery lyrics of Whittier and Lowell. " Ethnogenesis " celebrates the birth of the Southern Confederacy ; but happily for our country the glowing prophecies of the poem were not fulfilled. In 1864 he became assistant editor of the South Caro- linian at Columbia. During a brief period of prosperity he ventured upon his long-deferred marriage to Miss Kate Goodwin the " Katie" of his song. But a year later, in the path of Sherman's victorious march, his paper was destroyed and he himself became a fugitive. In his great need it became necessary at times to exchange necessary household articles for bread. He died in 1867 and was buried in Columbia, where a small shaft now marks his grave. A posthumous edition of Timrod's poems was pub- lished in 1873 with a beautiful memoir by Hayne. A memorial edition was issued in 1899. An examination of the poems shows that they are of limited range and, in the main, slight in subject. But they are distinguished by simplicity, elegance, and sanity. Timrod is lacking in the finest lyrical flights, but he is constantly true. He is always noble in thought and sentiment. His conception of the poetic office, as reflected in " A Vision of Poesy," was exalted; the poet was to his mind a prophet. The poet "spheres worlds in himself"; and then, "like some noble host," FIRST NATIONAL PERIOD. 123 " He spreads the riches of his soul, and bids' Partake who will. Age has its saws of truth, And love is for the maiden's drooping lids, And words of passion for the earnest youth ; Wisdom for all ; and when it seeks relief, Tears, and their solace for the heart of grief. 1 ' Some of Timrod's deepest notes are sounded in his sonnets. "Brief as the sonnet is," he said, "the whole power of the poet has sometimes been exemplified within its narrow bounds as completely as within the compass of an epic." He laments, for example, that " most men know love as but a part of life " : " Ah me ! why may not love and life be one ? Why walk we thus alone, when by our side, Love, like a visible God, might be our guide ? How would the marts grow noble ! and the street, Worn like a dungeon-floor by weary feet, Seem then a golden court-way of the sun ! " 124 AMERICAN LITERATURE. WASHINGTON IRVING. To Washington Irving belongs the distinction of being the first of our great writers in 'general literature. He was not a great theologian like Jonathan Edwards, nor a practical phi- losopher and moralist like Franklin, nor a statesman like Jef- ferson and Hamilton. He was above all a literary man ; and his writings belong, in large measure at least, to the field of belles-lettres. In his most characteristic writings he aimed not so much at instruction as at entertainment. He achieved that finished excellence of form that at once elevates literature to the classic rank. He was the first American writer to gain general recognition abroad; or, to use Thackeray's words, " Irving was the first ambassador whom the New World of letters sent to the Old." Our literature has had many " ambassadors " since ; but it is doubtful whether any other has ever been more cordially welcomed or more pleasantly remembered. Washington Irving was born in the city of New York, April 3, 1783, the youngest of eleven children. The Revo- lutionary War was ended, and the American army occupied the city. "Washington's work is ended," said the mother, "and the child shall be named after him." Six years later, when Washington had become the first President of the young republic, a Scotch maid-servant of the Irving family one day followed him into a shop. "Please, your honor," said she, "here's a bairn was named after you." With grave dignity the President laid his hand on the child's head, and bestowed his blessing. Not much can 1)3 said of young Irving's education. Like many another brilliant writer in English literature, he took WASHINGTON IRVING. WASHINGTON IRVING. 125 but little interest in the prescribed courses of study. As was said of Shakespeare, he knew little Latin and less Greek. But it would be a mistake to suppose that his early years went unimproved. His literary bent asserted itself in the neglect of such studies as did not interest him. During his boyhood he was an eager reader. Books of poetry and travel were quickly devoured. The creative literary impulse was early manifested in the composition of verses and childish plays. Two of his brothers had been sent to Columbia College. But his disinclination to methodical study deprived him of this privilege. Perhaps it was just as well; for his genius was left freer to pursue its own development. At sixteen he entered a law office; but from what has already been said, it will not appear strange that he neglected his law-books for works of literature. In 1798 he spent a part of his summer vacation in exploring with his gun the Sleepy Hollow region which he was afterwards to immortalize with the magic of his pen. At this period he showed symptoms of pulmonary weak- ness; and for several years he spent much time in out-door ex- ercise, making excursions along the Hudson and the Mohawk. Though he did not at the time turn his experience to account in a literary way, he was all the while, perhaps unconsciously to himself, storing up materials for future use. In 1804 it was thought that a voyage to Europe would be beneficial to his health. Accordingly he took passage for Bordeaux in a sailing-vessel. "There's a chap," said the captain to himself as young Irving went on board, "that will go overboard before we get across." But the gloomy prediction was not fulfilled ; and after a voyage of six weeks it was not the day of ocean greyhounds he reached his destination much improved in health. He visited in succession the principal cities of France and Italy. He had not yet found his vocation, and his life abroad appears sufficiently aimless. He gave free play to his large social nature, and to the ordinary observer he seemed a mere pleasure-seeker. But he was accomplishing more than he or 126 AMERICAN LITERATURE. his friends understood. He made the acquaintance of many eminent persons, and his genial nature and pleasing manners made him welcome in the brilliant social circles to which he was introduced. He had an opportunity to study Euro- pean society in all its phases. He added to his knowledge of English literature an acquaintance with the literatures of France and Italy. He was brought into sympathetic contact with the art and antiquities of Europe. He was one of the keenest observers. While thus storing his memory with knowl- edge afterwards to be invaluable to him, his culture was ex- panding into the breadth of cosmopolitan sympathies. He met the inconveniences and discomforts inseparable from travel in those days with a truly philosophic spirit. "When I cannot get a dinner to suit my taste," he said, "I endeavor to get a taste to suit my dinner." He was no chronic grumbler. He made it a habit all through life to look on the pleasant side of things. "I endeavor," he said, "to be pleased with everything about me, and with the masters, mis- tresses, and servants of the inns, particularly when I perceive they have all the dispositions in the world to serve me; as Sterne says, ' It is enough for heaven and ought to be enough for me. ' " He did not carry with him in his travels the statesman's interest in the political condition of Europe. Politics were never to his taste. He preferred to wander over the scenes of renowned achievement, to loiter about the ruined castle, to lose himself among the shadowy grandeurs of the past. The pathetic constancy of Petrarch for Laura appealed to him more than the meteoric splendor of Napoleon. In the course of his travels he visited Rome, where he met Washington Allston. The acquaintance for a time threatened to change the course of his life. Allston's enthusiasm for art proved contagious. The charm of the Italian landscape, the inestimable treasures of art in the city of the Caesars, made a profound impression on Irving's refined and poetic sensibilities. For a time he thought of becoming a painter. WASHINGTON IRVING. I2/ As we may clearly discern in his writings, he had an artistic eye for color and form. Had he adhered to this temporary purpose, it is possible that he might, like his friend and com- patriot, have given us some admirable paintings. But it is well-nigh certain that the world would have been the loser; for what pictures could compensate for the loss of the " Sketch- Book," "Bracebridge Hall," and the "Tales of a Traveller"? Irving returned to America in 1806, and was admitted to the bar. His legal attainments were slender, and his interest in his profession superficial. Instead of throwing his heart into it, he allowed much of his time and energy to be absorbed in social enjoyments. At this period he first gave decided indications of his future career. A strong literary instinct is irrepressible. In association with his brother William and James K. Paulding, he issued a semi-monthly periodical, en- titled Salmagundi. It was an imitation of the Spectator, and aimed "simply to instruct the young, reform the old, cor- rect the town, and castigate the age." The writers veiled themselves in mystery. They affected utter indifference to either praise or blame, and with lofty superiority criticised the manners of the town. The wit and humor were delightful, and from the start the paper had a flattering success. But after running through twenty numbers, it stopped in the midst of its success as suddenly as it had burst upon the astonished community. It was almost inevitable that Irving should be drawn into politics. With no taste for law, he found it tedious waiting for clients who never came. Local politics seemed to pre- sent an inviting field; but a brief experience was enough. He toiled "through the purgatory" of one election. He got' through the first two days pretty well. Among his new as- sociates he kept on the lookout for "whim, character, and absurdity." Then the duties of a ward politician began to pall upon him. Referring with characteristic humor to his unsavory experience, he wrote: "I shall not be able to bear the smell of small beer and tobacco for a month to come." 128 AMERICAN LITERATURE. Irving early had his romance, and it makes the most pa- thetic incident in his life. He formed a deep attachment for Matilda Hoffman, a young lady of great personal charm. His love was as ardently returned. But before the wedding-day arrived, she fell sick and died. He never entirely recovered from this loss, which seems to have tinged his character ever afterwards with a gentle melancholy. With a constancy as beautiful as it is rare, he remained faithful to his first love throughout life. It was while burdened with a sense of his irreparable loss that he completed the work that was to make him famous. This was "Knickerbocker's History of New York." It is a humorous treatment of the traditions and customs belonging to the period of the Dutch domination. The personal charac- teristics of the phlegmatic Dutch governors, and the leading events in the early history of the city, are treated in a delight ful, mock-heroic vein. The work was received with almost universal acclaim. It became a household word. After a lapse of forty years, Irving tells us that he found New York- ers of Dutch descent priding themselves on being "genuine Knickerbockers. " The next five years of Irving's life were neither very serious nor very fruitful. Though so strongly drawn to literature that he was scarcely fit for anything else, he was afraid to adopt a literary career. He entered into a mercantile partnership with his brothers, in which he was required to do but little work. In the interests of the firm, when Congress threatened some legislation unfavorable to importing merchants, he made a visit to Washington. But there, as well as in Philadelphia and Baltimore, social pleasures occupied him more than the action of Congress. He steadily refused to look on the darlier side of human nature or human life. He would not believe th^t wisdom consists in a knowledge of the wickedness of men, and confessed that he entertained " a most melancholy good opin- ion and good will for the great mass of my fellow-creatures." While in Washington ^he saw a good deal of the leading WASHINGTON IRVING. 129 men of the country. Though his sympathies were with the Federalists, he was not a violent partisan. He was far too broad-minded to become a bigot in either religion or politics. He was on good terms with the leaders of both political par- ties, and laughed equally at their extravagance. "One day," he writes, " I am dining with a knot of honest, furious Feder- alists, who are damning all their opponents as a set of con- summate scoundrels, panders to Bonaparte, etc. The next day I dine, perhaps, with some of the very men I have heard thus anathematized, and find them equally honest, warm, and indig- nant; and, if I take their word for it, I had been dining the day before with some of the greatest knaves in the nation, men absolutely paid and suborned by the British government." For a time the business of his brothers (they were impor- ters of hardware and cutlery) required his services at the store pretty constantly. The work was distasteful to him beyond measure. "By all the martyrs of Grub Street," he exclaimed, " I'd sooner live in a garret, and starve into the bargain, than follow so sordid, dusty, and soul-killing a way of life, though certain it would make me as rich as old Crcesus, or John Jacob Astor himself." He became editor of a periodical called Select Reviews, for which he wrote some biographies and sketches, a few of which afterwards appeared in the "Sketch Book." But he soon grew tired of his position, for he had an invinci- ble aversion to regular work. The year the second war with Great Britain closed, Irving sailed for Europe, where the next seventeen years of his life were spent, years rich in experience and literary activity. It was during this period that a number of his choicest works were produced. His reputation as the author of "Knicker- bocker" made him a welcome guest in literary circles. In London he dined at Murray's, where he met some of the nota- ble writers of the day. He was cordially received at Edin- burgh; and he spent some days with Scott, of whose home and habits he has given so delightful a description in "Abbots- ford." 130 AMERICAN LITERATURE. As we should naturally expect, Irving was a great admirer of Isaac Walton. He made more than one visit to the haunts of the illustrious angler. On one occasion he wandered by the banks of the romantic Dove in company with a "lovely girl," who pointed out to him the beauties of the surrounding sce- nery, and repeated " in the most dulcet voice tracts of heaven- born poetry." Upon the failure of the branch house of his brothers in Liverpool, he went to London to embark upon the literary career for which nature had so evidently intended him. He was urged by Scott to become editor of an anti-Jacobin peri- odical in Edinburgh. This he refused to do for two reasons already familiar to us, his distaste for politics, and his aver- sion to regular literary work. He also declined an offer to become a contributor of the London Quarterly, with the liberal pay of one hundred guineas an article. " It has always been, so hostile to my country," he said, "I cannot draw a pen in its service." This is the language of high-toned patriotism. In 1819 he began the publication of the "Sketch -Book." It was written in England, and sent over to New York, where it was issued in octavo numbers. Some of them were reprinted in London without the author's consent; and to prevent the entire work from being pirated, Irving found it necessary to bring out an edition in England. After once declining it in the polite manner for which publishers have become noted, Murray was afterwards persuaded by Scott to bring out the work. He purchased the copyright for two hundred pounds, which, with noteworthy liberality, he subsequently raised to four hundred. In comparing the " Sketch Book " with Irving's previous work, it is impossible not to perceive his intellectual develop- ment. He has acquired a greater depth of thought and feel- ing. His sympathies have gained in scope. His hand has acquired a more exquisite touch. As a natural result of the tribulations through which he had passed, a number of the sketches are tinged with sadness. In only two of them does WASHINGTON IRVING. 131 fie give rein to his inimitable humor; but these two, "Rip Van Winkle" and the "Legend of Sleepy Hollow," will en- dure as long as the beautiful region with which they are asso- ciated. The "Sketch Book" exerted an important influence upon American literature. While stimulating our writers with the bright possibilities before them, it rendered henceforth inartistic or slovenly work intolerable. The applause with which America greeted the appearance of the " Sketch Book " was echoed by England. Irving be- came the lion of the day. There seemed to be "a kind of conspiracy," as some one wrote at the time, "to hoist him over the heads of his contemporaries." But he was not elated by his success. Vanity is a vice of smaller souls. "I feel almost appalled by such success," he wrote to a friend, "and fearful that it cannot be real, or that it is not fully merited, or that I shall not act up to the expectations that may be formed." In 1820 Irving made a visit to Paris, where his reputation secured him flattering recognition. Here he made the ac- quaintance of Thomas Moore, whom he characterized as a "noble-hearted, manly, spirited little fellow, with a mind as generous as his fancy is brilliant." A warm friendship sprang up between them. Irving found too many distractions in Paris to do much literary work. An eruptive malady, which ap- peared in his ankles and at intervals incapacitated him for walking, sometimes rendered literary composition difficult or impossible. Notwithstanding these hindrances he wrote "Bracebridge Hall," which was published in 1822, the year of his return to England. It is made up of a series of delight- ful sketches, chiefly descriptive of country life in England. He had traversed that country, as he tells us, "a grown-up child, delighted by every object, great and small." His deli- cate and genial observation caught much of the poetry, pictur- esqueness, and humor of English life. It shows the same exquisite workmanship that characterized the " Sketch Book;" and some of its stories, like "The Stout Gentleman," "Annette Delarbre," and "Dolph Heyleger," are models of brilliant and 132 AMERICAN LITERATURE. effective narrative. It is significant of Irving's growing repu- tation that Murray paid a thousand pounds for the copyright. After a visit to Dresden, where he found congenial society in an English family, and a trip to Prague, which still kept up "its warrior look," we find him in 1823 again in Paris. Its gayeties had an attraction for him. He worked at irregular intervals, for he was almost wholly dependent upon impulse or inspiration. When the inspiration was on him, he wrote very rapidly; and having once begun a book, he labored dili- gently till it was completed. The following year his "Tales of a Traveller" appeared, one of his most delightful books. Irving himself said that " there was more of an artistic touch about it, though this is not a thing to be appreciated by the many." He sold the copyright to Murray for fifteen hundred pounds, and, according to Moore, might have had two thou- sand; but it was no part of his genius to drive shrewd bargains. But the time had now come for him to open a new vein. In 1826, at the invitation of Alexander H. Everett, United States Minister at Madrid, he went to the Spanish capital for the purpose of translating a recent collection of documents relating to the voyages of Columbus. He found a rich store of materials that had never been utilized, and resolved to write an independent work. The result was the publication in 1828 of his "Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus," a work of extensive research and admirable treatment. It was eagerly read, and Jeffrey declared that no work would ever supersede it. It at once gave Irving an honorable place among historians. The "Conquest of Granada," the most interesting, perhaps, of his Spanish works, was closely related to the "Life of Columbus." It was while pursuing his researches for the latter work that he became interested in the stirring and romantic scenes connected with the overthrow of the Moorish dominion in Spain. Subsequently he made a tour of Anda- lusia, and visited the towns, fortresses, and mountain-passes that had been the scenes of the most remarkable events of the WASHINGTON IRVING. 133 war. He passed some, time in the ancient palace of the Al- hambra, the once favorite abode of the Moorish monarchs. With these scenes fresh in his mind, he wrote the " Conquest of Granada;" and though he allowed himself some freedom in its romantic coloring (for the subject appealed strongly to his imagination), he remained faithful to historical fact. It is a graphic and thrilling narrative of romantic events. Of his other Spanish works "The Alhambra," "Legends of the Conquest of Spain," and " Mahomet and his Successors '* it is not necessary to speak. The subjects were all emi- nently congenial to his mind, and susceptible of his peculiar felicity of treatment. They sustained, if they did not add to, his growing fame. Literary honors were bestowed upon him. In 1830 the Royal Society of Literature in England awarded him a gold medal; and the year following the University of Oxford conferred upon him the degree of LL.D., a title which his modesty never permitted him to use. In 1829 Irving left Spain, and served for some time as Secretary of Legation at the Court of St. James. It was a period of great social and political unrest in England and France; and, for once in his life, he took a keen interest in current events. He visited again many points of interest in England, and had the melancholy pleasure of seeing Scott in the sad eclipse of his powers. In 1832, after an absence of seventeen years, he returned to his native land, and was accorded an enthusiastic welcome as its most distinguished representative in the world of letters. Nothing but his modest shrinking from publicity prevented a round of banquets in various cities. He was delighted to note the great progress the nation had made during his absence. To acquaint himself more fully with its resources and develop- ment, he visited different parts of the country. His "Tour on the Prairies" embodies the observations and experiences of a trip to the region beyond the Mississippi, still the haunt of the buffalo and wild Indian. With his simple and quiet Bastes, Irving now ioriged for 134 AMERICAN LITERATURE. a home. Accordingly he purchased a little farm at a lovely spot on the Hudson, not far from the Sleepy Hollow he had immortalized. The house was remodelled, and the grounds arranged in exquisite taste. To this charming residence he gave the name of Sunnyside. He received under his roof a number of near relatives, including a half dozen nieces, for whom he showed an affection as tender as it was admirable. Henceforth Sunnyside became to him the dearest spot on earth; he always left it with reluctance, and returned to it with eagerness. It was here that the greater part of his life was spent after his return to America. Few persons have been happier in their surroundings. The ten years succeeding his return to America were, upon the whole, delightful to him. He had seen enough of the world to relish the quiet of his picturesque home. He was honored as the leading American writer of his day. But more than that, he was esteemed for his excellence of character. It is hardly too much to say that he was the most prominent private citizen of the republic. Almost any political position to which he might have aspired was within his reach. But a public career was not to his taste. He declined to be a candidate for mayor of New York which cost perhaps no great struggle. But a seat in Mr. Van Buren's cabinet as Secretary of the Navy was likewise declined. The life of a government officer in Washington possessed no attractions for him, and his sensitive nature shrank from the personal attacks to which prominent officials are exposed. During the ten years under consideration, he was busy with his pen. He became a regular contributor to the Knick- erbocker Magazine at a salary of two thousand dollars a year. In addition to the "Tour on the Prairies " already mentioned, he wrote "Abbotsford" and "Newstead Abbey " admira- ble sketches of the homes of Scott and Byron. "Captain Bonneville" is a story of adventure in the far West. It de- scribes in a very vivid way the wild, daring, reckless life of the hunter, trapper, and explorer. Among the literary schemes WASHINGTON IRVING. 135 of this period must be mentioned his contemplated history of the conquest of Mexico. It was a theme well suited to his talents, and his previous work on Spanish subjects fitted him for the task. He had collected a large amount of material, and composed the first chapter; but learning that Mr. Prescott de- sired to treat the subject, Irving magnanimously abandoned it- It was a great personal sacrifice. " I was dismounted from my cheval de bataille, " he wrote years afterwards, " and have never been completely mounted since." In spite of Mr. Prescott's splendid work, we cannot help regretting that Irving gave up his cherished theme. In 1842 the quiet but busy literary life of Irving was inter- rupted by his appointment as minister to Spain. The nomina- tion was suggested by Webster. In the Senate, Clay, who was opposing nearly all of the President's appointments, exclaimed, "Ah, this is a nomination that everybody will concur in!" The appointment was confirmed almost by acclamation. The appointment was a surprise to Irving; and, while he could not be insensible to the honor, its acceptance cost him pain. It necessitated a protracted absence from his beloved Sunny- side. "It is hard, very hard," he was heard murmuring to himself; "yet I must try to bear it." There is not space to follow him in his diplomatic career. It was a turbulent period in Spain; but he discharged the somewhat difficult duties of his post, not only with fidelity, but also with ability. But the splendors of court life had lost their charm for him. From the pomp of the Spanish capital his heart fondly turned to his home on the Hudson. " I long to be once more back at dear little Sunnyside," he wrote in 1845, "while I have yet strength and good spirits to enjoy the simple pleasures of the country, and to rally a happy family group once more about me. " He gave up his mission in 1846. The year of his return to America he published his "Life of Goldsmith," which is one of the most charming biogra- phies ever written. There was not a little in common between 136 AMERICAN LITERATURE. Irving and Goldsmith. They had alike a tender and indulgent regard for the world; they had felt the same roving disposi- tion; they possessed a similar mastery of exquisite English. "Perhaps it is significant of a deeper unity in character," to borrow a delightful touch from Charles Dudley Warner, " that both, at times, fancied they could please an intolerant world by attempting to play the flute." Irving's treatment of Gold^ smith is exquisitely sympathetic. "Mahomet and his Suc- cessors " appeared in 1849, and is a popular rather than a profound treatise. Irving's greatest work in the department of history was his "Life of Washington." The last volume was published in 1859, shortly before his death. It was the work of his ripe old age, and is a masterpiece of biography. It is clear in its arrangement, admirable in its proportion, impartial in its judgments, and finished in its style. The closing years of his life were serene and happy. He held a high place in the affection of his countrymen. He was surrounded by the quiet domestic joys that h loved so well. His labors on the life of the great hero whose name he had received three quarters of a century before were thoroughly congenial. Thus he lived on, retaining his kindly feeling for the world, till the death summons suddenly came, Nov. 28, 1859. Although he had reached an age beyond the usual period allotted to man, the tidings of his death were received throughout the country with profound sorrow. But grief was deepest among those who had known him most intimately. His unpretending neighbors and the little children wept around his grave. What Irving was, has been indicated in some measure in the course of this sketch. He had a large, generous nature, the kindliness of which is everywhere apparent. Through his wide reading and extensive travels, he acquired a culture of great breadth. He was at home with the explorer on the prairie, or with the sovereign in his court. The gentle ele- ments predominated in his character; he was not inclined to make war upon mankind, and with savage zeal to denounce WASHINGTON IRVING. 137 their wickedness and shams. He was an observer of humanity rather than a reformer ; and he reported what he saw with all the grace of a rich imagination and delicate humor. He was always loyal to truth and right. But in dealing with human frailty, his severest weapon was kindly satire. He evoked a smile at the foibles and eccentricities of men. His heart was of womanly tenderness; and for the sorrows and misfortunes of men he had tears of sympathy. The death of such a man is a loss, not only to literature, but, what is much more, to humanity itself. 138 AMERICAN LITERATURE. JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. COOPER deserves the honor of being the most national of our writers. He was less influenced by foreign models and foreign subjects than any of his great contemporaries. The works upon which his fame chiefly rests are thoroughly American. He was the first fully to grasp and treat the stores of materials to be found in the natural scenery, early history, and pioneer life of this Republic. He was at home alike on land and sea; and in his narrations he spoke from the fulness of his own observation and experience, and gave us pictures of those early days which will grow in interest as they are removed farther from us by the lapse of time. He opened a new vein of thought. It was largely owing to this freshness of subject and treatment that his works attained an extraordinary popularity, not alone in this country, but also in Europe. They came as a revelation to the Old World, which had grown tired of well-worn themes. They were eagerly seized upon, and translated into nearly every European tongue, and even into some of the languages of the Orient. No other American writer has been so extensively read. James Fenimore Cooper was born at Burlington, N.J., Sept. 15, 1789, the eleventh of twelve children. His father was of Quaker and his mother of Swedish descent. When he was thirteen months old, the family moved to Cooperstown, on the southeastern shore of Otsego Lake, in the central part of New York. In this picturesque region, diversified with moun- tains, lakes, and woods, the childhood of Cooper was passed. It was at that time on the borders of civilization, and the little village presented a striking mixture of nationalities and occu- pations. Along with German, French, and Irish adventurers JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. were found the backwoodsman, the hunter, and the half-civil- ized Indian. The deep impression made upon young Cooper's mind by the wild scenery and unsettled life about him is shown in the fact that he located three of his novels in this region. Cooper's education presents the melancholy story so often met with in the lives of literary men. He took but little interest in his studies. His first instruction was received in the academy at Cooperstown, where, in spite of its pretentious name, the teaching was crude. He afterwards studied in Albany as a private pupil under an Episcopal rector. At the age of thirteen, Cooper entered the Freshman class at Yale, the youngest student but one in the college. According to Kis own confession, he played all the first year, and there is nothing to show that he did better afterwards. In place of digging at his Latin and Greek, he delighted in taking long walks about the wooded hills and beautiful bay of New Haven. Nature was more to him than books, a preference that college faculties are generally slow to appreciate. At last in his third year he engaged in some mischief that led to his dismissal from the college. This failure in his education was peculiarly unfortunate. His lack of a refined and scholarly taste has tol- erated in his works a crudeness of form that largely detracts from their excellence. It was now decided that Cooper should enter the navy. The influence of his father, who was a prominent Federalist and had been for several years a member of Congress, promised a speedy advancement. He began his apprenticeship (there was no naval academy then) in the merchant marine, and served a year before the mast. He entered -the navy as mid- shipman in January, 1808. He was stationed for a time on Lake Ontario, where he imbibed the impressions afterwards embodied in the graphic descriptions of "The Pathfinder." In 1809 he was transferred to the Wasp, then under the com- mand of Lawrence, a hero to whom he was warmly attached. The details of his naval career are scanty. Though it does I4O AMERICAN LITERATURE. not appear that he was engaged in any thrilling events, he accumulated a large store of incident, and acquired a techni- cal knowledge, which were afterwards turned to good account in his admirable sea stories. His naval career was cut short by his falling in love. In January, 1811, he married a Miss De Lancey, a lady of Hu- guenot family, and five months later he tendered his resig- nation in the navy. He made no unworthy choice, and his domestic life appears to have been singularly happy. With a sufficiently strong, not to say obstinate, will, and with high notions of masculine prerogative in the family, he was still largely controlled by the delicate tact of his wife, who always retained a strong hold upon his large and tender heart. For some time after his marriage he was unsettled. He first re- sided in Westchester County, New York; then he moved to Cooperstown, where he spent the next three years; afterwards he returned to Westchester, and occupied a house that com- manded a view of Long Island Sound, Up to this time his chief occupation had been farming ; and he had shown no sign whatever either of an inclination or of an ability to write. His entrance upon a literary career appears to have been the merest accident. He was one day reading to his wife a novel descriptive of English society. It did not please him; and at last, laying it down with some impatience, he ex- claimed: "I believe I could write a better story myself." Challenged to make good his boast, he at once set himself to the task. It did not occur to him to treat an American theme with which he was familiar. America had achieved her politi- cal but not her intellectual independence of the mother coun- try. He accordingly produced a novel of high life in England, which, under the title of "Precaution," was published in 1820. It did not occur to him as an obstacle that he knew nothing about English life. The day of an exacting realism had not yet come, and men were still permitted to write of things that they knew nothing about. Of course the work was a failure; JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 14 1 out it came so near being a success that Cooper was encour- aged to try his hand again. This time he chose an American subject, and without knowing it fell into the vocation for which his talents emi- nently fitted him. Years before, at the house of John Jay, he had heard the story of a Revolutionary spy that deeply im- pressed him. This story he made the basis of his novel ; and the scene he laid in Westchester, with which his long resi- dence had made him familiar, and which had been a battle- ground for the British and American armies. He had but little expectation of its favorable reception. He doubted whether his countrymen would read a book that treated of familiar scenes and interests. The result undeceived him, and fixed him in the career to which he was to give the rest of his life. "The Spy" appeared at the close of 1821, and in a short time met with a sale that was pronounced unprecedented in the annals of American literature. It was received with the en- thusiasm that greeted the successive Waverley novels in Eng- land. The transatlantic verdict, which was awaited with something of servile trepidation, confirmed the American judgment. "Genius in America," said Blackwood, "must keep to America to achieve any great work. Cooper has done so, and taken his place among the most powerful of the imagi- native spirits of the age." "The Spy" was soon translated into several European languages , and, in short, it made Cooper's reputation at home and abroad. His next work was "The Pioneers," which was published in 1823. The scene is laid at the author's early home on Otsego Lake, and describes not only the natural scenery, but also the types of character and modes of living with which he became familiar in childhood. In producing this work he drew less upon his imagination than upon his memory. As we read his life, it is not difficult to discover the originals of some of his leading portraits. The book was written, as he has told us, exclusively to please himself; and he has dwelt upon sepa- rate scenes and incidents with such fondness as seriously to 142 AMERICAN LITERATURE. retard the story. It was the first of the now famous " Leather- stocking Tales," though hardly the best of them. It was awaited by the public with impatience ; and by noon, the day of its appearance, no fewer than three thousand five hunched copies were sold in New York. Before "The Pioneers" was published he was already at work upon a new novel, in which he entered an untried field. Like his first work, it sprang from the impulse of a moment. The author of "Waverley" had recently published "The Pirate," which came under discussion at a dinner-party in Cooper's presence. The nautical passages were greatly ad- mired, and were cited as a proof that Scott, the lawyer and poet, could not have written it. Cooper dissented from this judgment, and boldly challenged the seamanship of the work. In spite of the nautical knowledge it displayed, it still be- trayed to his mind the hand of a landsman. "The result of this conversation," to quote his own words, "was a sudden determination to produce a work which, if it had no other merit, might present truer pictures of the ocean and ships than any that are to be found in 'The Pirate. " ; Returning home, with the plan of the work already shaping itself in his mind, he said to his wife: "I must write one more book a sea-tale to show what can be done in that way by a sailor." Though he was discouraged in the undertaking by his friends, Cooper wisely followed the leading of his genius. "The Pilot" takes high rank as a tale of the sea. The plot was suggested by the cruise of Paul Jones in the Ranger, who, without being named, occupies the foremost place in the story. The work appeared in 1824, and at once attained a wide popu- larity. Its descriptions of storm, battle, and shipwreck are ex- ceedingly vivid. It contains the character of Long Tom Coffin, who, like Natty Bumppo, or Leatherstocking, may be regarded as a permanent contribution to literature. It was at once trans- lated into French, German, and Italian, and was scarcely less popular in Europe than in America. In 1826 appeared "The Last of the Mohicans," which JAMES FENJMORE COOPER. 143 occupies a high rank some think the highest rank of all Cooper's works. It belongs to the " Leatherstocking Tales." The interest never abates from beginning to end. "It is in- deed an open question," says an admirable critic and biog- rapher, 1 "whether a higher art would not have given more breathing-places in this exciting tale, in which the mind is hurried without pause from sensation to sensation." It is needless to say that its success was instantaneous and pro- digious. The novelty of its scenes and characters, as well as its powerful narrative, gave it extraordinary popularity abroad. There can be no doubt that he idealized the Indian character. But however different from the Indians of actual life, the crea- tions of Cooper have appealed strongly to the imaginations of men. Cooper was now living in the city of New York, whither he had moved in 1822. The income from his works had placed him in easy circumstances. His literary reputation, unequalled by any other American, with the possible exception of Irving, made him a prominent figure in the social life of the city. He founded a club which included in its membership Chancellor Kent, Verplanck the editor of Shakespeare, Jarvis the painter, Durand the engraver, Wiley the publisher, Morse the inventor of the electric telegraph, Halleck and Bryant the poets. He was a regular attendant at the weekly meetings of the club, of which he was the life and soul. The year "The Last of the Mohicans" was published, Cooper carried out a long cherished purpose to visit Europe, where he spent the next seven years. He served as consul at Lyons for nearly three years. He made a trip through Swit- zerland, and visited in succession Naples, Rome, Venice, Mu- nich, and Dresden; but most of his time was spent in Paris. He was not a man to enjoy being lionized; but after his presence in the French capital became known he could not escape from receiving a full share of attention. Scott met him at an evening reception, and noted in his diary: "Cooper 1 Lounsbury, James Fenimore Cooper, p. 53. 144 AMERICAN LITERATURE. was there, so the Scotch and American lions took the field together. " But Cooper's time abroad was not exclusively spent in the enjoyment of natural scenery, art treasures, and refined society. His literary productivity continued without serious abatement.^ Among the numerous works produced during his seven years' residence abroad there are two that deserve particular mention. "The Prairie" was added to the Leatherstocking series, and "The Red Rover " to his sea-tales. Both occupy a high place among his works. His popularity in Europe had now reached a high point. Five editions of "The Prairie" were arranged to appear at the same time, two in Paris, one in London, one in Berlin, and one in Philadelphia. Outside of England he was, perhaps, read more extensively than Scott. " In every city of Europe that I visited," wrote the inventor of the electric tele- graph, "the works of Cooper were conspicuously placed in the windows of every bookshop. They are published, as soon as he produces them, in thirty-four different places in Europe. They have been seen by American travellers in the languages of Turkey and Persia, in Constantinople, in Egypt, at Jeru- salem, at Ispahan." With the year 1830 closed the happiest and most successful period of Cooper's literary career. After that date he became involved in controversies abroad and at home that cost him heavily in purse and in popularity. He was intensely Ameri- can in sentiment proud of the institutions, the material pros- perity, and the ~apidly growing power of his country. With prophetic foresight he confidently predicted the growth that has since been realized. With his honest, positive,, and pugnacious nature, he was not a man to conceal his opinions. He under- took to enlighten the ignorance and to correct the misrepresen- tations of his country prevalent abroad. He wrote letters, pamphlets, and books in defence of America. Three of his novels written abroad "The Bravo," "The Heidenmauer," and "The Headsman " were designed to exalt republican in- stitutions, and to apply American principles to European con- JAMES FEN I MO RE COOPER. 145 ditions. The effect of all this can be easily imagined. The information he volunteered to Europe, and especially to Eng- land, was received ungraciously. His independent and ag- gressive spirit provoked opposition; his works were harshly criticised, and he himself was subject to misrepresentation and detraction. In 1833 Cooper returned to America. . After a brief sojourn in New York, he purchased his father's old estate at Coopers- town, and made that place his residence for the rest of his life. His childhood recollections were dear to him; and in the midst of the lovely scenery about Otsego Lake he found a grateful repose for the prosecution of his literary work. But his life was not destined to flow on undisturbed. His long residence abroad, in contact with the repose and culture of the Old World, had wrought greater changes in him than he was con- scious of. He no longer found himself in sympathy with the eager, bustling, restless life of America. He failed to appre- ciate the sublimity of the conflict which was rapidly subduing a magnificent continent. Without prudence in concealing his sentiments, he proceeded to tell his countrymen what he thought of them. Their restless energy he characterized as sordid greed for gold. He found fault with what he considered their lack of taste, their coarseness of manners, and their provincial narrowness. With inconsiderate valor he rushed into news- paper controversies. In short, while cherishing a deep affec- tion for his country, he exhausted almost every means for achieving a widespread unpopularity. It speedily came ; and no other American writer was ever so generally and so venom- ously assailed. But meekness was no part of Cooper's character. He was unwilling to rest under reckless and malicious misrepresenta- tion. Accordingly he instituted many suits for libel against prominent papers in New York, including the Albany Evening Journal, edited by Thurlow Weed, and The Tribune, edited by Horace Greeley. With the aid of his nephew, who was a law- yer, Cooper conducted the prosecutions himself with relentless 146 AMERICAN LITERATURE, energy, and showed himself as effective in an oral address be- fore a jury as in his writings before the public. It is remark- able that in every instance in which he pleaded his own cause he got a verdict awarding him damages. In 1839 ne published his "History of the United States Navy." It was a subject in which he had long been interested, and for which he possessed special fitness. Apart from his naval experience and his skill as a narrator, he possessed the sterling integrity of character that rendered him painstaking and impartial. For the period it covers, the history is not likely to be superseded. But it was impossible that such a work should please everybody. It gave offence in England by setting forth too prominently her numerous defeats upon the sea. It was accordingly attacked with great vigor in some of the leading British reviews. In this country its judicial tone failed to satisfy the partisans of some of our naval heroes. The newspapers were generally unfriendly, and the work was criticised with great injustice. But malicious misrepresenta- tion Cooper answered, as usual, with a suit for libel, in which he was almost invariably successful. At last he fairly became a terror to editors a class not easily frightened. The period between 1840 and 1850 was one of great literary activity. The motives inspiring this activity were not such, in part at least, as to promise the best results for art. Cooper had lost in speculation, and found it necessary to increase his resources. He had a good many things to say to the American public in his character as censor. The didactic element be- came more prominent in his works. As a result, most of the seventeen novels produced in the decade referred to add but little to his fame. To this statement, however, there are sev- eral noteworthy exceptions. In 1840 appeared "The Path- finder," and the following year "The Deerslayer," two works that rank with the best of his productions. "The Deerslayer" completed the Leatherstocking series. Following the life of Natty Bumppo, and not the order of their composition, this series is as follows: "The Deerslayer," in which Leather- JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. stocking appears in his youth; "The Last of the Mohicans'* and "The Pathfinder," in which we see him in the maturity of his powers; "The Pioneers" and "The Prairie," in which are portrayed his old age and death. Cooper counted these works as his best. "If anything from the pen of the writer of these romances," he said in his old age, " is at all to outlive himself, it is unquestionably the series of the * Leatherstocking Tales.' To say this is not to predict a very lasting reputation for the series itself, but simply to express the belief that it will out- last any or all of the works from the same hand. " Among the other works of this period, which can only be named, are "The Two Admirals," " Wing-and-Wing," "Wyandotte," "Afloat and Ashore," "The Redskins," and "The Ways of the Hour." The closing years of Cooper's life were comparatively se- rene. The storm of criticism and detraction, against which he had long contended, had in large measure abated. He was growing again in favor with his countrymen; and his own feelings, as opposition relaxed, subsided into a calmer and kindlier mood. At last disease laid its wasting hand upon his strong frame. It turned into an incurable dropsy. When the physician told him there was no longer any hope, he re- ceived the announcement with the manly courage that had characterized him all through life. He gave up the literary projects he was fondly cherishing, and spent his last days in the cheerful resignation of Christian faith. The end came Sept. 14, 1851, on the eve of his sixty-second birthday. There is no more heroic character in the history of our literature. Cooper was cast in a large and rugged mould. He had deep convictions and a strong will; and hence he was often impatient of opposition, obstinate in his opinions, and brusque in his manners. He never acquired, and perhaps never cared to acquire, a polished deference to the views of others. He did not usually make a favorable impression on first acquaintance. But these defects were only on the surface. He was frank, honest, fearless, large-hearted ; and among those who knew him best, he inspired a deep and loyal affection. 148 AMERICAN LITERATURE. He could not be tempted to sacrifice principle, to scheme foi reputation, to stoop to anything mean and low. Cooper has often been called " the American Scott ; " and the title, though displeasing to him, is not wholly undeserved. He has described the scenery and manners of his native country with a passion and power scarcely inferior to what is found in the romances of the great Scotchman, He has thrown over the pioneer life of America something of the same glamour with which " the Wizard of the North " has invested the mediae- val life of Europe. There are points of striking resemblance in the characters of these two great writers. They belonged to the same type of strong manhood. They were alike chival- rous and patriotic. With abounding physical strength, they rejoiced in the companionship of the woods and mountains. Their hearts were open to the charms of natural scenery. They were both, to borrow a term from mental science, objective rather than subjective in their habits of thought ; and thus it happens that instead of profound psychological studies, they have given us glowing descriptions and thrilling narratives. Cooper's works do not exhibit a high degree of literary art. His novels, like those of Scott, are characterized by largeness rather than by delicacy. He painted on a large canvas with a heavy brush. He worked with great rapidity ; and as a nat- ural consequence we miss all refinement of style. He is often slovenly, and sometimes incorrect. The conversations, which he introduces freely, are seldom natural, often bombastic, and generally tiresome. His plots are usually defective. His novels are made up of narratives more or less closely con nected, but not forming necessary parts in the development of a dramatic story. With some notable exceptions, his charac- ters are rather wooden, and move very much like automatons. They are continually doing things without any apparent or sufficient reason. His women belong to the type which is made up, to use his own phrase, " of religion and female deco- rum." They are insipid, helpless, vague so limited by a narrow and conventional decorum as to be wholly uninterest fAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 149 ing. They rarely say anything or do anything that shows the true womanly spirit of devotion, helpfulness, and self-sacrifice. These are faults that are palpable and acknowledged. What, then, are the excellences which, triumphing over these serious drawbacks, still render Cooper one of the most popular of authors ? First, he had the power of graphic description. Without catching the spiritual significance of nature, he yet presented its various forms with extraordinary vividness. " If Cooper," said Balzac, " had succeeded in the painting of char- acter to the same extent that he did in the painting of the phenomena of nature, he would have uttered the last word of our art." But above this and above every other quality is Cooper's power as a narrator. It is here that his genius manifests itself in its full power. His best novels are made up of a succession of interesting or exciting events, which he narrates with su- preme art. We realize every detail, and often follow the story with breathless interest. Cooper is an author, not for literary critics, but for general readers. In the words of Bryant, " he wrote for mankind at large ; hence it is that he has earned a fame wider than any author of modern times. The creations of his genius shall survive through centuries to come, and perish only with our language." 150 . AMERICAN LITERATURE. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. GREAT genius is not always associated with exalted "char- acter. There is much in the life of Pope, of Burns, and of Byron that we cannot approve of. So far as their works reflect their moral obliquities, we are forced to make abatements in our praise. It is greatly to the credit of American literature that its leading representatives have been men of excellent character. Dissolute genius has not flourished on our soil. At the funeral of Bryant, it was truthfully said, "It is the glory of this man that his character outshone even his great talent and his large fame." In a poem "To Bryant on his Birthday," Whittier beautifully said : " We praise not now the poet's art, The rounded beauty of his song; Who weighs him from his life apart Must do his nobler nature wrong." The moral element in literature is of the highest impor- tance. It is a French maxim, often disregarded in France as elsewhere, that "Nothing is beautiful but truth." 1 It is cer- tain that only truth is enduring. Whatever is false is sure, sooner or later, to pass away. Bryant gave beautiful expres- sion to the same idea in the oft-quoted lines from his poem, "The Battle-Field:"- " Truth, crushed to earth, shall rise again; Th' eternal years of God are hers; But Error, wounded, writhes with pain, And dies among his worshippers." 1 Rien n'est beau que le vrai. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. \$\ This truth is often forgotten or neglected by our men of .etters. Whatever is false in any way, whether in fact, princi- ple, sentiment, taste, cannot be permanent. This is the secret of the wrecks that strew the fields of literature. The enduring works of literature those that men are unwilling to let die are helpful to humanity. No art, however 'exquisite, can win lasting currency for error. Judged by this principle, the works of Bryant are enduring. They are not only admirable in literary art, but they are true in thought, sentiment, and taste. It may be said of him, as was said of James Thomson, his works contain " No line which, dying, he could wish to blot." William Cullen Bryant was born at Cummington, Mass., Nov. 3, 1794. He came of sound Puritan stock, counting among his ancestors the Priscilla and John Alden immortal- ized by another descendant and poet. His father was a kind, cultured, and refined physician, who took more than ordinary interest in the training of his gifted son. In his " Hymn to Death," the composition of which was interrupted by the de- cease of his father, the poet pays him a noble tribute: " This faltering verse, which thou Shalt not, as wont, o'erlook, is all I have To offer at thy grave this and the hope To copy thy example, and to leave A name of which the wretched shall not think As of an enemy's, whom they forgive As all forgive the dead. Rest, therefore, thou Whose early guidance trained my infant steps Rest, in the bosom of God, till the brief sleep Of death is over, and a happier life Shall dawn to waken thine insensible dust." Bryant was a child of extraordinary precocity. At the age of sixteen months he knew all the letters of the alphabet. In the district school he distinguished himself as an almost infal- 152 AMERICAN LITERATURE. ]ible speller. He was prepared for college by the Rev. Moses Hallock of Plainfield. Of his Greek studies the poet says, " I began with the Greek alphabet, passed to the declensions and conjugations, which I committed to memory, and was put into the Gospel of St. John. In two calendar months from the time of beginning with the powers of the Greek alphabet, I had read every book in the New Testament." In October, 1810, when in his sixteenth year, he entered the Sophomore class at Williams College, where he spent only one session. Though a diligent student, he did not find college life, owing to its meagre comforts, entirely to his taste. Bryant showed a rhyming propensity at an early age. He eagerly devoured whatever poetry fell into his hands, and early cherished the ambition to become a poet. Among his early efforts was a political satire against Jefferson and his party, inspired by the Embargo Act, a measure that proved disastrous to many private interests in New England, and ex- cited strong feeling against the President. Bryant's father was a prominent Federalist; and the young poet, not unnatu- rally, became a violent partisan. In "The Embargo," written when he was thirteen, he rather uncourteously demanded Jef- ferson's resignation: " Go, wretch, resign the presidential chair, Disclose thy secret measures, foul or fair. Go search with curious eye for horrid frogs Mid the wild wastes of Louisianian bogs." This satire, which had quite a success at the time, the poet afterwards would have gladly forgotten ; but, when he subse- quently became a Democratic editor, the opposing press took care to see that he was occasionally reminded of it. Having failed for lack of means in completing his college course, he decided to study law, and entered the office of Judge Howe at Worthington. He afterwards completed his legal studies under William Baylies at West Bridgewater. His heart was never fully in the study of law, and his retiring dis- WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 153 position did not promise a very brilliant career at the bar. Nevertheless, while in some measure indulging his fondness for poetry, he gave himself with commendable diligence to Blackstone and Coke. In a poetical effusion of the time, he recorded his experience as follows : "O'er Coke's black letter, Trimming the lamp at eve, 'tis mine to pore, Well pleased to see the venerable sage Unlock his treasured wealth of legal lore ; And I that loved to trace the woods before, And climb the hills, a playmate of the breeze, Have vowed to tune the rural lay no more, Have bid my useless classics sleep at ease, And left the race of bards to scribble, starve, and freeze." He was admitted to the bar in 1815, and began practice at Plainfield; but, finding the outlook unpromising, he removed at the end of a year to Great Barrington. He met with a fair degree of success, but was deeply chagrined to find that law is not always synonymous with justice. He was far too conscien- tious to be careless and negligent; but, as we learn from a letter written at this period, his inclination was toward litera- ture. "You ask," he writes to Mr. Baylies, his old teacher and friend, "whether I am pleased with my profession. Alas, sir, the muse was my first love; and the remains of that pas- sion, which is not cooled out nor chilled into extinction, will always, I fear, cause me to look coldly on the severe beauties of Themis. Yet I tame myself to its labors as well as I can, and have endeavored to discharge with punctuality and atten- tion such of the duties of my profession as I am capable of performing." As was to be expected, nature and poetry were his refuge and comfort in the midst of the uncongenialities of his profes- sion. His love of nature was scarcely less strong than that of Wordsworth. His portrayal of natural beauty is a promi- nent characteristic of his poetry. "I was always," he says, "from my earliest years, a delighted observer of external 154 AMERICAN LITERATURE. nature, the splendors of a winter daybreak over the wide wastes of snow seen from our windows, the glories of the au- tumnal woods, the gloomy approaches of a thunderstorm, and its departure amid sunshine and rainbows, the return of the spring with its flowers, and the first snowfall of winter. The poets fostered this taste in me ; and though at that time I rarely heard such things spoken of, it was none the less cherished in my secret mind.'' In his poem, "Green River," he reveals the state of his mind at this period, though in a manner not very complimentary to his clients and associates at the bar: "Though forced to drudge for the dregs of men, And scrawl strange words with the barbarous pen, And mingle among the jostling crowd Where the sons of strife are subtle and loud, I often come to this quiet place To breath the airs that ruffle thy face, And gaze upon thee in silent dream ; For in thy lonely and lovely stream An image of that calm life appears That won my heart in my greener years." The time had now come for a more general recognition of Bryant's poetic gifts. Genius is apt to be recognized sooner or later. In 1817 his father sent to the North American Review a copy of verses which the poet had written in his eighteenth year and laid away in his desk. "Ah, Phillips," said the sceptical Dana to his associate editor on hearing the verses, "you have been imposed upon. No one on this side of the Atlantic is capable of writing such verse. " The poem in ques- tion was "Thanatopsis," the finest poem that had yet been produced in America, and one of the most remarkable pieces ever written at so early an age. "There was no mistaking the quality of these verses," says a biographer. "The stamp of genius was upon every line. No such verses had been made in America before. They soon found their way into the school- books of the country. They were quoted from the pulpit and upon the hustings. Their gifted author had a national fame WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 155 before he had a vote, and in due time * Thanatopsis took the place which it still retains among the masterpieces of English didactic poetry." Another of Bryant's most exquisite poems belongs to this period. As he was on his way to Plainfield in December, 1815, to see what inducements it offered for the practice of his profession, he watched a solitary bird pursuing its course southward through the roseate evening sky. He was deeply impressed both by the beauty of the scene and by the lesson it brought to him in an hour of uncertainty and discouragement. That night he wrote "To a Waterfowl," which some persons have thought the gem of all his works: " Whither, 'midst falling dew, While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue Thy solitary way ? There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, The desert and illimitable air, Lone wandering, but not lost. He who, from zone to zone, Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, In the long way that I must tread alone, Will lead my steps aright." At Great Barrington, Bryant met Miss Frances Fairchild, whose native goodness, frank and affectionate disposition, and excellent understanding, captivated his heart. Of course she became the inspiration of a good many poems, only one of which, however, the poet has cared to preserve: " Oh, fairest of the rural maids ! Thy birth was in the forest shades ; Green boughs, and glimpses of the sky, Were all that met thine infant eye." 156 AMERICAN LITERATURE. They were married in 1821, and for nearly half a century she was "the good angel of his life." The union was a sin- gularly happy one. The poet's tender attachment is exhibited in several admirable poems. In " The Future Life " he asks the question so natural to deathless love : " How shall I know thee in the sphere which keeps The disembodied spirits of the dead, When all of thee that time could wither sleeps And perishes among the dust we tread?" In "The Life that Is " the poet celebrates the recovery of his wife from a serious illness in Italy in 1858: " Twice wert thou given me ; once in thy fair prime, Fresh from the fields of youth, when first we met, And all the blossoms of that hopeful time Clustered and glowed where'er thy steps were set. And now, in thy ripe autumn, once again Given back to fervent prayers and yearnings strong, From the drear realm of sickness and of pain, Where we had watched, and feared, and trembled long." She was indeed a helpmeet for him. "I never wrote a poem," he said, "that I did not repeat to her, and take her judgment upon it. I found its success with the public pre- cisely in proportion to the impression it made upon her. She loved my verses and judged them kindly, but did not like them all equally well." His poem "October, 1866," written upon the occasion of her death, is a threnody of great beauty. With his growing literary reputation, Bryant's dissatisfac- tion with his profession increased. He was for several years a regular contributor to the United States Gazette, published in Boston, and wrote for it some of his best-known pieces, most notable of which is "A Forest Hymn." A sonnet, which in his collected poems bears the title "Consumption," had a WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. . 157 deep personal meaning. It was written of his sister, a young woman of rare endowments and sweet disposition, who died in her twenty-second year : " Death should come Gently to one of gentle mould like thee, As light winds wandering through groves of bloom Detach the delicate blossom from the tree." This sister, who had been the cherished companion of his childhood, is the theme of the well-known poem " The Death of the Flowers." The calm, mild days of late autumn, the season in which she died, reminded the true-hearted poet of her loss : " And then I think of one who in her youthful beauty died, The fair, meek blossom that grew up and faded by my side ; In the cold, moist earth we laid her when the forests cast the leaf, And we wept that one so lovely should have a life so brief; Yet not unmeet it was that one, like that young friend of ours, So gentle and so beautiful, should perish with the flowers." In 1825, through the influence of friends, Bryant moved to New York, gave up the practice of law, and fairly launched upon a literary career. He became editor of a monthly maga- zine at a salary of a thousand dollars a year about twice as much, he tells us, as he received from the practice of his profession. But the magazine did not succeed, and the poet passed through a period of uncertainty and depression. As usual, he turned his experience into verse. In "The Journey of Life," written at this time, we find the following pathetic lines: " Beneath the waning moon I walk at night, And muse on human life for all around Are dim uncertain shapes that cheat the sight, And pitfalls lurk in shade along the ground, And broken gleams of brightness, here and there, Glance through, and leave unwarmed the deathlike air. 5 ' I 5 8 AMERICAN LITER A TURE, But amid the discouragements of this brief period he was, sustained by the friendship and sympathy of Cooper, Kent, Verplanck, Morse, Halleck, and other congenial spirits. In 1826 Bryant became connected with the Evening Post, to which he gave more than half a century of his life. His career as a journalist is unsurpassed in the devotion with which he gave himself to the best interests of his country and of humanity. He set before himself a high ideal of editorial responsibility and journalistic excellence. His example and influence contributed no small part to the elevation of the metropolitan press. Though his sympathies in the main were with the Democratic party, he was never a blind or unscrupu- lous partisan. Principle was always more to him than party. In his devotion to what he recognized as truth, he often took the unpopular side. He was independent and fearless. He developed the Evening Post into a great newspaper, which at last, after many laborious years, brought him an ample income. His prose was of a high order. He wrote slowly and with great care. He was particular even to the point of fastidious- ness in his diction. His style was simple, clear, direct, for- cible. "It seems to me," he said, "that in style we ought first, and above all things, to aim at clearness of expression. An obscure style is, of course, a bad style." To a young man, who had asked his opinion of a piece of writing, he wrote: " I observe that you have used several French expressions in your letter. I think if you will study the English language, that you will find it capable of expressing all the ideas you may have. I have always found it so; and in all I have writ- ten I do not recall an instance where I was tempted to use a foreign word but that, on searching, I have found a better one in my own language. Be simple, unaffected; be honest in your speaking and writing. Never use a long word where a short one will do as well. . . . The only true way to shine, even in this false world, is to be modest and unassuming. Falsehood may be a thick crust, but in the course of time WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 159 Truth will find a place to break through. Elegance of ian* guage may not be in the power of us all, but simplicity and straightforwardness are." These are the principles to which his own prose writing is conformed. As an editor and a man he had some little peculiarities. His violent temper he schooled himself to keep under perfect control. Though master of a scathing satire, he never allowed himself to be betrayed into an abuse of that dangerous faculty. His editorials were invariably written on the backs of letters and other pieces of waste paper. He used a quill pen, which he mended with a knife almost as old as himself. Indeed, he looked upon old servants, whether animate or inanimate, with a childlike tenderness. It is related of him that he clung to an old blue cotton umbrella long after its day of usefulness had passed; and a suggestion to replace his well-worn knife with a new one he would have discountenanced almost as an impertinence. Bryant was fond of travel, which brought him both mental and physical recreation. He was a hard worker; and from time to time, in his later years, relaxation became a necessity to him. Between the years 1834 and 1867 he made no fewer than six visits to the Old World. He not only visited the leading cities of Europe, but extended his travels to Egypt and Syria. His fame preceded him, and everywhere he was received with the marks of honor that were due him as a poet and a man. In Great Britain he met most of the illustrious authors and scholars of his day, including Wordsworth, Rogers, Moore, Hallam, Whewell, and Herschel. His letters to the Evening Post, descriptive of his travels abroad, were afterwards collected into a volume with the title "Letters of a Traveller." His fine sense of propriety led him to exclude from his letters all reference to the distinguished people he met. In 1872 he visited Cuba and Mexico, where honors were lavishly bestowed upon him. By reason of his distinguished position in New York, Bryant was frequently called on for public addresses. This was espe- 160 AMERICAN LITERATURE. cially true when the life and character of some eminent person were to be commemorated. He delivered memorial addresses upon the artist Thomas Cole, upon Cooper, Irving, Halleck, and Verplanck. He was not an orator, but he delivered his carefully prepared discourses with impressive dignity. Though his treatment was always sympathetic, his estimates are singu- larly judicious, and his commemorative addresses are models of their kind. But whatever excellence Bryant attained in other spheres, he was above all a poet. Throughout his long and laborious career, he remained true to the muse he had wooed in his youth. But he was not a prolific poet. Sometimes his prosaic duties as a journalist left but little time for poetry. There are years in which he wrote little or nothing. Besides his lack of leisure and favorable surroundings, he was too conscientious a work- man to be satisfied with anything but the best he was capable of. To him poetry was a serious vocation, which called for the highest exercise of mind and soul. In "The Poet" he says: " Thou who wouldst wear the name Of poet mid thy brethren of mankind, And clothe in words of flame Thoughts that shall live within the general mind, Deem not the framing of a deathless lay The pastime of a drowsy summer day. But gather all thy powers, And wreak them on the verse that thou dost weave, And in thy lonely hours, At silent morning or at wakeful eve, While the warm current tingles through thy veins, Set forth the burning words in fluent strains." In 1831 Bryant issued a small volume containing about eighty of his poems. His simple, honest nature revolted at everything like sham. He rejected what he called "striking novelties of expression ; " and he had no patience with the re- mote allusions or hazy diction, to which it is difficult to attach WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. l6l a definite meaning. "To me it seems," he said, "that one of the most important requisites for a great poet is a luminous style. The elements of poetry lie in natural objects, in the vicissitudes of human life, in the emotions of the human heart, and the relation of man to man. He who can present them in combinations and lights which at once affect the mind with a deep sense of their truth and beauty is the poet for his own age and the ages that succeed it." To these principles all his poetry is conformed. Bryant wished to have his poems published also in Eng- land; and, though unacquainted with him at the time, he so- licited Irving's influence and aid. Irving, who had a genuine admiration for Bryant's poetry, interested himself in the enter- prise, secured a publisher, and, to give the volume some degree of prestige, he appeared as editor, and prefixed a dedicatory letter addressed to Samuel Rogers. This act of disinterested kindness was admirable, and called forth Bryant's grateful ap- preciation. But it subsequently led to some correspondence not entirely free from asperity. In the poem, " Song of Mari- on's Men," occur the lines, " And the British foeman trembles When Marion's name is heard." These lines were objected to by the London publisher as reflecting upon British valor, and as likely, therefore, to preju- dice the British public. Accordingly Irving judged it best to change the first line into " The foeman trembles in his camp." Under the circumstances there was but little room to find fault with this alteration. But Leggett, editor of the Plain- dealer and intimate friend of Bryant's, denounced the change as "literary pusillanimity." This severe and unnecessary charge called forth letters from both Irving and Bryant; but the ill-feeling engendered at the moment proved only a ripple 1 62 AMERICAN LITERATURE. on the surface of their profound appreciation of each other's ability and character. Bryant's poetry has a quality of its own, as distinct and recognizable as that of Corot's paintings. Beyond all other verse produced in America, it has what maybe called a classic quality. It is clear, calm, elevated, strong. Many of his poems, in their finished form and chastened self-restraint, re- semble Greek statuary. His poetry is pervaded by a reflective, ethical tone. The objects of nature, which he dwells on with untiring fondness, convey to his mind some beautiful lesson of hope, comfort, courage. He looks, for instance, upon the North Star, and in its beams he beholds " A beauteous type of that unchanging good, That bright eternal beacon, by whose ray The voyager of time should shape his heedful way." Though there are few that speak in praise of the wild, stormy month of March, he bids it a cordial welcome : " Thou bringst the hope of those calm skies, And that soft time of sunny showers, When the wide bloom, on earth that lies, Seems of a brighter world than ours." He does not sigh at the increasing speed with which the years pass by : " Then haste thee, Time, 'tis kindness all That speeds thy winged feet so fast; The pleasures stay not till they pall, And all thy pains are quickly past. Thou fliest and bear'st away our woes, And as thy shadowy train depart, The memory of sorrow grows A lighter burden on the heart." To those who lament the degeneracy of their time, and are filled with gloomy forebodings of the future, he says, WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 163 " Oh, no ! a thousand cheerful omens give Hope of yet happier days whose dawn is nigh. He who has tamed the elements, shall not live The slave of his own passions ; he whose eye Unwinds the eternal dances of the sky, And in the abyss of brightness dares to span The sun's broad circle, rising yet more high, In God's magnificent works his will shall scan, And love and peace shall make their paradise with man." Bryant's poetry is not artificial. It sprang out of the depths of his soul ; it is the natural expression of his deepest thoughts and feelings. v It was inspired chiefly by the scenery, life, and history of his own country, a fact that makes him pre-emi- nently an American poet. "He never, by any chance," says Stedman, "affected passion or set himself to artificial song. He had the triple gift of Athene, 'self-reverence, self-knowl- edge, self-control.' He was incapable of pretending to rap- tures that he did not feel; and this places him far above a host of those who, without knowing it, hunt for emotions, and make poetry but little better than a trade." Bryant crowned his long literary life with a translation of the ''Iliad" and the "Odyssey." The former was undertaken in 1865, when the poet was in his seventy-first year, and it was completed four years later. His vigorous health and disci- plined faculties had always enabled him to work with unusual regularity. He was never dependent on moments of happy inspiration. In translating Homer he set himself the task of forty lines a day. He found fault with the translations of Pope and Cowper, because of their lack of fidelity to the origi- nal. "I have sought to attain," he says, "what belongs to the original, a fluent narrative style which shall carry the reader forward without the impediment of unexpected inversions and capricious phrases, and in which, if he find nothing to stop at and admire, there will at least be nothing to divert his atten- tion from the story and characters of the poem, from the events related and the objects described." Scarcely was the " Iliad " 164 AMERICAN LITERATURE. finished, when he began the "Odyssey." It was completed in two years. The entire translation, which was a credit to Amer- ican talent and scholarship, met with a cordial reception. It satisfied the high expectations that had preceded its appear- ance. In fidelity to the original, in its admirable style and diction, and in its successful reproduction of the heroic spirit, it surpasses, perhaps, all other translations. Besides his city residence, Bryant had two houses in the country, one near the village of Roslyn, Long Island, com- manding an extensive prospect of land and water; the other, the old Bryant homestead at Cummington. He was accus- tomed, the latter part of his life, to spend about one-half his time at these country homes. He took great interest in beau- tifying them, and was "aye sticking in a tree." At his home near Roslyn, to which he gave the name of "Cedarmere," he did some of his best work. It was the abode of simplicity and taste, to which he welcomed many friends and distinguished guests. Bryant was a deeply religious man; but he attached more importance to reverence, righteousness, and charity than to any ecclesiastical creed. Though brought up in the Calvin- istic faith, his later theological sympathies were with the Uni- tarians. "The religious man," he wrote near the end of his life, "finds in his relations to his Maker a support to his virtue which others cannot have. He acts always with a con- sciousness that he is immediately under the eyes of a Being who looks into his heart, and sees his inmost thoughts, and discerns the motives which he is half unwilling to acknowl- edge even to himself. He feels that he is under the inspira- tion of a Being .who is only pleased with right motives and purity of intention, and who is displeased with whatever is otherwise. He feels that the approbation of that Being is infinitely more to be valued than the applause of all mankind, and his displeasure more to be feared and more to be avoided than any disgrace which he might sustain from his brethren of mankind. " He had a profound reverence for the character WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 165 and teachings of Christ, whose sweetness and beneficence he exemplified in his own life with advancing years. The rich, full life of Bryant continued far beyond the allotted period of man; but the end came suddenly. In the latter part of May, 1878, he delivered an address at the un- veiling of a statue to Mazzini, the Italian patriot, in Central Park. He had not been feeling well for several days, and exposure to the sun proved too much for his strength. On en- tering the house of a friend near the Park, he suddenly lost consciousness, and, falling backward, struck his head violently on the stone platform of the front steps. The terrific blow caused concussion of the brain, from which he died June 12, in the eighty-fourth year of his age. " By reason of his vener- able age," wrote Dr. J. G. Holland, "his unquestioned genius, his pure and lofty character, his noble achievement in letters, his great influence as a public journalist, and his position as a pioneer in American literature, William Cullen Bryant had become, without a suspicion of the fact in his own modest thought, the principal citizen of the great republic. By all who knew him, and by millions who never saw him, he was held in the most affectionate reverence. When he died, there- fore, and was buried from sight, he left a sense of personal loss in all worthy American hearts." 1 66 AMERICAN LITERATURE. EDGAR ALLAN POE. IT is difficult to form a just and satisfactory estimate of Edgai Allan Poe. His genius is unquestionable ; but it had a limited range and lacked a substantial moral basis. It is not always easy to get at the facts. Like Pope, he did not hesitate to mislead and mystify his readers. He has been the subject of much debate ; and his numerous biographers are generally not exempt from the .suspicion of a friendly or a hostile bias. The latter probably draw his character too unfavorably ; but the former are frequently driven to extenuation or apology. Poe occupies a peculiar place in American literature. He has been called our most interesting literary man. He stands alone for his intellectual brilliancy and his lamentable failure to use it wisely. No one can read his works intelligently with- out being impressed with his extraordinary ability. Whether poetry, criticism, or fiction, he shows extraordinary power in them all. But the moral element in life is the most impor- tant, and in this Poe was lacking. With him truth was not the first necessity. He allowed his judgment to be warped by friendship, and apparently sacrificed sincerity to the vulgar desire of gaining popular applause. He gambled and drank liquor; and for these reasons chiefly, though the fact has been denied by some, he was unable for any considerable length of time to maintain himself in a responsible or lucrative posi- tion. Fortune repeatedly opened to him an inviting door; but he constantly and ruthlessly abused her kindness. Edgar Allan Poe descended from an honorable ancestry. His grandfather, David Poe, was a Revolutionary hero, over whose grave, as he kissed the sod, Lafayette pronounced the words, "Id repose un cceur noble." His father, an impulsive EDGAR ALLAN POE. EDGAR ALLAN POE. 16? and wayward youth, became enamored of an English actress s and forsook the bar for the stage. The couple were duly mar- ried, and acted with moderate success in the principal towns and cities of the country. It was during an engagement at Boston that the future poet was born, Jan. 19, iSog. 1 Two years later the wandering pair were again in Richmond, where within a few weeks of each other they died in poverty. They left three children, the second of whom, the subject of this sketch, was kindly received into the home of Mr. John Allan, a wealthy merchant of the city. The early training of Poe may be taken as a very good example of how not to bring up children. The boy was remarkably pretty and precocious; and his foster-parents al- lowed no opportunity to pass without showing him off. After dinner in this elegant and hospitable home, he was frequently placed upon the table to drink to the health of the guests, and to deliver short declamations, for which he had inherited a decided talent. He was flattered and fondled and indulged in -every way. Is it strange that under this training he ac- quired a taste for strong drink, and became opinionated and perverse ? In 1815 Mr. Allan went to England with his family to spend several years, and there placed the young Edgar at school in an ancient and historic town, which has since been swallowed up in the overflow of the great metropolis. The venerable appearance and associations of the town, as may be learned from the autobiographic tale of "William Wilson," made a deep and lasting impression on the imaginative boy. After five years spent in this English school, where he learned to read Latin and to speak French, he was brought back to America, and placed in a Richmond academy. With- out much diligence in study, his brilliancy enabled him to take high rank in his classes. His skill in verse-making and 1 Different dates are given, and Baltimore is frequently mentioned as the place of his birth ; but the matter may be regarded as finally settled by Woodberry in his excellent biography of Poe. 1 68 AMERICAN LITERATURE. in debate made him prominent in the school. He excelled in athletic exercises, especially in running and jumping; and it is related of him that on one occasion, stimulated perhaps by the aquatic feats of Byron, he swam a distance of six miles against a strong tide without much apparent fatigue. But he was not generally popular among his fellow-students. Conscious of his superior intellectual endowments (which, however, as is usual in such cases, were not as great as he imagined), he was disposed to live apart, and to indulge in moody reverie. According to the testimony of one who knew him well at this time, he was " self-willed, capricious, inclined to be imperious, and though of generous impulses, not steadily kind, or even amiable." In 1826, at the age of seventeen, Poe matriculated at the University of Virginia, and entered the schools of ancient and modern languages. The university has never been noted for rigid discipline or Puritanic morals. Its laxity in both partic- ulars chimed in well with Poe's natural impulses. Though he attended his classes with a fair degree of regularity, he was not slow in joining the fast set that spent more time in drink- ing and gambling than in study. Gambling especially became a passion, and he lost heavily. His reckless expenditures led Mr. Allan to visit Charlottesville for the .purpose of inquiring into his habits. The result was not satisfactory ; and, though his adopted son won high honors in Latin and French, Mr. Allan refused to allow him to return to the university after the close of his first session, and placed him in his own count- ing-room. It is not difficult to foresee the next step in the drama before us. Many a genius of far greater self-restraint and moral earnestness has found the routine of business almost intolerably irksome. With high notions of his own ability, and with a temper rebellious to all restraint, Poe soon broke away from his new duties, and started out to seek his fortune. He went to Boston; and, in eager search for fame and money, he resorted to the unpromising expedient of publishing in EDGAR ALLAN POE. 169 1827 a small volume of poems. As viewed in the light of his subsequent career, the volume gives here and there an intima- tion of the author's genius; but, as was to be expected, it attracted but little attention, and disappointed all his ambi- tious hopes. He was soon reduced to financial straits; and, in his pressing need, he enlisted, under an assumed name, in the United States army. He served at Fort Moultrie, and afterwards at Fortress Monroe. He rose to the rank of ser- geant-major; and, according to the testimony of his superiors, he was "exemplary in his deportment, prompt and faithful in the discharge of his duties." In 1829, when his heart was softened by the death of his wife, Mr. Allan became reconciled to his adopted but way- ward son. Through his influence, young Poe secured a dis- charge from the army, and obtained an appointment as cadet at West Point. He entered the military academy July i, 1830, and, as usual, established a reputation for brilliancy and folly. He was reserved, exclusive, discontented, and censo- rious. As described by a classmate, "He was an accom- plished French scholar, and had a wonderful aptitude for mathematics, so that he had no difficulty in preparing his recitations in his class, and in obtaining the highest marks in these departments. He was a devourer of books; but his great fault was his neglect of and apparent contempt for mili- tary duties. His wayward and capricious temper made him at times utterly oblivious or indifferent to the ordinary rou- tine of roll-call, drills, and guard duties. These habits sub- jected him often to arrest and punishment, and effectually prevented his learning or discharging the duties of a soldier.' 7 The final result is obvious. At the end of six months, he was summoned before a court-martial, tried, and expelled. Before leaving West Point, Poe arranged for the publica- tion of a volume of poetry, which appeared in New York in 1831. This volume, to which the students of the academy subscribed liberally in advance, is noteworthy in several par- ticulars. In a prefatory letter Poe lays down the poetic prin- I/O AMERICAN LITERATURE. ciple to which he endeavored to conform his productions. It throws much light on his poetry by exhibiting the ideal at which he aimed. "A poem, in my opinion," he says, "is op- posed to a work of science by having for its immediate object pleasure, not truth; to romance, by having for its object an indefinite instead of a definite pleasure, being a poem only so far as this object is attained; romance presenting percep- tible images with definite, poetry with ///definite sensations, to which end music is an essential, since the comprehension of sweet sound is our most indefinite conception. Music, when combined with a pleasurable idea, is poetry; music without the idea is simply music; the idea without the music is prose from its very definiteness." Music embodied in a golden mist of thought and sentiment this is Poe's poetic ideal. As illustrative of his musical rhythm, the following lines from "Al Aaraaf " may be given:" " Ligeia ! Ligeia 1 My beautiful onel Whose- harshest idea Will to melody run, O! is it thy will On the breezes to toss? Or, capriciously still, Like the lone albatross, Incumbent on night (As she on the air) To keep watch with delight On the harmony there ? " Or take the last stanza of "Israfel :" "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." EDGAR ALLAN POE. \ 71 The two principal poems in the volume under considera- tion Al Aaraaf " and " Tamerlane " were obvious imita- tions of Moore and Byron. The beginning of "Al Aaraaf," for example, might easily be mistaken for an extract from "Lalla Rookh," so similar are the rhythm and rhyme: "O! nothing earthly save the ray (Thrown back from flowers) of Beauty's eye, As in those gardens where the day Springs from the gems of Circassy O! nothing earthly save the thrill Of melody in w r oodland rill Or (music of the passion-hearted) Joy's voice so peacefully departed That like the murmur in the shell, Its echo dwelleth and will dwell Oh, nothing of the dross of ours Yet all the beauty all the flowers That list our Love, and deck our bowers Adorn yon world afar, afar The wandering star." In' this poem there is a further imitation of Moore in the copious annotations, in which Poe tries to appear learned by the cheap trick of mentioning obscure names, and quoting scholarly authorities at second-hand. It indicates his singu- lar lack of moral integrity that he kept up this evil practice all through his literary career. After his expulsion from West Point, Poe appears to have gone to Richmond; but the long-suffering of Mr. Allan, who had married again and was expecting a lineal descendant, was at length exhausted. He refused to extend any further recog- nition to one whom he had too much reason to regard as un- appreciative and undeserving. Accordingly, Poe was finally thrown upon his own resources for a livelihood. He settled in Baltimore, where he had a few acquaintances and friends, and entered upon that literary career which is without parallel in American literature for its achievements, its vicissitudes, and 1/2 AMERICAN LITERATURE. its sorrows. With no qualification for the struggle of life other than intellectual brilliancy, he bitterly atoned, through disappointment and suffering, for his defects of temper, lack of judgment, and habits of intemperance. In 1833 the Baltimore Saturday Visitor offered a prize of one hundred dollars for the best prose story. This prize Poe won by his tale "A MS. Found in a Bottle." This success may be regarded as the first step in his literary career. The ability displayed in this fantastic tale brought him to the no- tice of John P. Kennedy, Esq., who at once befriended him in his distress, and aided him in his literary projects. He gave Poe, whom he found in extreme poverty, free access to his table, and, to use his own words, "brought him up from the very verge of despair. " After a year or more of hack work in Baltimore, Poe, through the influence of his kindly patron, obtained employ- ment on the Southern Literary Messenger, and removed to Rich- mond in 1835. Here he made a brilliant start; life seemed to open before him full of promise. In a short time he was pro- moted to the editorship of the Messenger, and by his tales, poems, and especially his reviews, he made that periodical very popular. In a twelvemonth he increased its subscription list from seven hundred to nearly five thousand, and made the magazine a rival of the Knickerbocker and the New Englander. He was loudly praised by the Southern press, and was gener- ally regarded as one of the foremost writers of the day. In the Messenger, Poe began his work as a critic. It is hardly necessary to say that his criticism was of the slashing kind. He became little short of a terror. With a great deal of critical acumen and a fine artistic sense, he made relentless war on pretentious mediocrity, and rendered good service to American letters by enforcing higher literary standards. He was lavish in his charges of plagiarism, even when stealing himself; and he made use of cheap, second-hand learning in order to ridicule the pretended scholarship of others. He often affected an irritating and contemptuous superiority. But with EDGAR ALLAN POE. 173 all his humbug and superciliousness, his critical estimates, in the main, have been sustained. The bright prospects before Poe were in a few months ruth- lessly blighted. Perhaps he relied too much on his genius and reputation. It is easy for men of ability to overrate their importance. Regarding himself, perhaps, as indispensable to the Messenger, he may have relaxed in vigilant self-restraint. It has been claimed that he resigned the editorship in order to accept a more lucrative offer in New York; but the sad truth seems to be that he was dismissed on account of his irregular habits. After eighteen months in Richmond, during which he had established a brilliant literary reputation, Poe was again turned adrtft. He went to New York, where his story of "Arthur Gordon Pym " was published by the Harpers in 1838. It is a tale of the sea, written with the simplicity of style and cir- cumstantiality of detail that give such charm to the works of Defoe. In spite of the fact that Cooper and Marryat had created a taste for sea-tales, the story of "Arthur Gordon Pym " never became popular. It is superabundant in horrors a vein that had a fatal fascination for the morbid genius of Poe. The same year in which this story appeared, Poe removed to Philadelphia, where he soon found work on The Gentleman's Magazine, recently established by the comedian Burton. He soon rose to the position of editor-in-chief, and his talents proved of great value to the magazine. His tales and criti- cism rapidly increased its circulation. But the actor, whose love of justice does him great credit, could not approve of his editor's sensational criticism. In a letter written when their cordial relations were interrupted for a time, Burton speaks very plainly and positively: "I cannot permit the magazine to be made a vehicle for that sort of severity which you think is so ' successful with the mob. ' I am truly much less anx- ious about making a monthly ' sensation ' than I am upon the point of fairness. . . . You say the people love havoc. I 1/4 AMERICAN LITERATURE. ihink they love justice." Poe did not profit by his experience at Richmond, and after a few months he was dismissed for neglect of duty. He was out of employment but a short time. In Novem- ber, 1840, Graham's Magazine was established, and Poe ap- pointed editor. At no other period of his life did his genius appear to better advantage. Thrilling stories and trenchant criticisms followed one another in rapid succession. His arti- cles on autography and cryptology attracted widespread atten- tion. In the former he attempted to illustrate character by the handwriting; and in the latter he maintained that human ingenuity cannot invent a cipher that human ingenuity cannot resolve. In the course of a few months the circulation of the magazine (if its own statements may be trusted) increased from eight thousand to forty thousand a remarkable circulation for the time. His criticism was based on the rather violent assumption "that, as a literary people, we are one vast perambulating humbug." In most cases, literary prominence, he asserted, was achieved "by the sole means of a blustering arrogance, or of busy wriggling conceit, or of the most bare-faced plagia- rism, or even through the simple immensity of its assump- tions." These fraudulent reputations he undertook, "with the help of a hearty good will " (which no one will doubt), to "tumble down." But, in the fury of this general destruction, he did not allow himself to become utterly indiscriminate and merciless. He admitted that there were a few who rose above absolute "idiocy." "Mr. Morris has written good songs. Mr. Bryant is not all fool. Mr. Willis is not quite an ass. Mr. Longfellow will steal; but, perhaps, he cannot help it (for we have heard of such things), and then it must not be denied that nil tetigit quod non ornavit" But, in spite of reck- less and extravagant assertion, there was still too much acu- men and force in his reviews to allow them to be treated with indifference or contempt. In about eighteen months Poe's connection with Graham EDGAR ALLAN POE. was dissolved. The reason has not been made perfectly clear; but, from what we already know, it is safe to charge it to Poe's infirmity of temper or of habit. His protracted sojourn in Philadelphia was now drawing to a close. It had been the most richly productive, as well as the happiest, period of his life. For a time, sustained by appreciation and hope, he in a measure overcame his intemperate habits. Griswold, his much- abused biographer, has given us an interesting description of him and his home at this time: "His manner, except during his fits of intoxication, was very quiet and gentlemanly; he was usually dressed with simplicity and elegance; and when once he sent for me to visit him, during a period of illness caused by protracted and anxious watching at the side of his sick wife, I was impressed by the singular neatness and the air of refinement in his home. It was in a small house, in one of the pleasant and silent neighborhoods far from the centre of the town; and, though slightly and cheaply furnished, every- thing in it was so tasteful and so fitly disposed that it seemed altogether suitable for a man of genius." It was during his residence in Philadelphia that Poe wrote his choicest stories. Among the masterpieces of this period are to be mentioned "The Fall of the House of Usher," " Li- geia," which he regarded as his best tale, "The Descent into the Maelstrom," "The Murders of the Rue Morgue," and " The Mystery of Marie Roget. " The general character of his tales may be inferred from their titles. Poe delighted in the weird, fantastic, dismal, horrible. There is no warmth of human sympathy, no moral consciousness, no lessons of prac- tical wisdom. His tales are the product of a morbid but powerful imagination. His style is in perfect keeping with his peculiar gifts. He had a highly developed artistic sense. By his air of perfect candor, his minuteness of detail, and his power of graphic description, he gains complete mastery over the soul, and leads us almost to believe the impossible. Within the limited range of his imagination (for he was by no means the universal genius he fancied himself to be), he is unsurpassed, perhaps, by any other American writer. AMERICAN LITERATURE. Poe's career had now reached its climax, and after a time began its rapid descent. In 1844 he moved to New York, where for a year or two his life did not differ materially from what it had been in Philadelphia. He continued to write his fantastic tales, for which he was poorly paid, and to do edi- torial work, by which he eked out a scanty livelihood. He was employed by N. P. Willis for a few months on the Even- ing Mirror as sub-editor and critic, and was regularly " at his desk from nine in the morning till the paper went to press." It was in this paper, Jan. 29, 1845, that his greatest poem, "The Raven," was published with a flattering commendation by Willis. It laid hold of the popular fancy; and, copied throughout the length and breadth of the land, it met a recep- tion never before accorded to an American poem. Abroad its success was scarcely less remarkable and decisive. "This vivid writing," wrote Mrs. Browning, "this power which is felt \ has produced a sensation here in England. Some of my friends are taken by the fear of it, and some by the music. I hear of persons who are haunted by the ' Nevermore ; ' and an acquaintance of mine, who has the misfortune of pos- sessing a bust of Pallas, cannot bear to look at it in the twilight." In 1845 Poe was associated with the management of the Broadway Journal, which in a few months passed entirely into his hands. He had long desired to control a periodical of his .own, and in Philadelphia had tried to establish a mag- azine. But, however brilliant as an editor, he was not a man of administrative ability; and in three months he was forced to suspend publication for want of means. Shortly afterwards he published in Godey's Lady's Book a series of critical papers entitled the "Literati of New York." The papers, usually brief, are gossipy, interesting, sensational, with an occasional lapse into contemptuous and exasperating severity. In the same year he published a tolerably complete edition of his poems in the revised form in which they now appear in his works. The volume contained nearly all the poems upon EDGAR ALLAN FOE. 177 which his poetic fame justly rests. Among the poems that may be regarded as embodying his highest poetic achievement are "The Raven," "Lenore," "Ulalume," "The Bells," "An- nabel Lee," "The Haunted Palace," "The Conqueror Worm," "The City in the Sea," "Eulalie," and "Israfel." Rarely has so large a fame rested on so small a number of poems, and rested so securely. His range of themes, it will be noticed, is very narrow. As in his tales, he dwells in a weird, fantas- tic, or desolate region usually under the shadow of death. He conjures up unearthly landscapes as a setting for his gloomy and morbid fancies. In " The City in the Sea," for example, " There shrines and palaces and towers (Time-eaten towers that tremble not!) Resemble nothing that is ours. Around, by lifting winds forgot, Resignedly beneath the sky The melancholy waters lie." He conformed his poetic efforts to his theory that a poem should be short. He maintained that the phrase "a long poem" "is simply a flat contradiction in terms." His strong artistic sense gave him a firm mastery over form. He con- stantly uses alliteration, repetition, and refrain. These arti- fices form an essential part of "The Raven," "Lenore," and " The Bells." In his poems, as in his tales, Poe was less anxious to set forth an experience or a truth than to make an impression. His poetry aims at beauty in a purely artistic sense, unassociated with truth or morals. It is singularly vague, unsubstantial, and melodious. Some of his poems and precisely those in which his genius finds its highest ex- pression defy complete analysis. They cannot be taken apart so that each thought and sentiment stands out clear to the understanding. " Ulalume," for instance, remains obscure after the twentieth perusal its meaning lost in a haze of mist and music. Yet these poems, when read in a sympathetic mood, never fail of their effect. They are genuine creations; AMERICAN LITERATURE. and, as fitting expressions of certain mental states, they pos- sess an indescribable charm, something like the spell of in- strumental music. There is no mistaking his poetic genius. Though not the greatest, he is still the most original, of our poets, and has fairly earned the high esteem in which his gifts are held in America and Europe. During his stay in New York, Poe was often present in the literary gatherings of the metropolis. He was sometimes ac- companied by his sweet, affectionate, invalid wife, whom in her fourteenth year he had married in Richmond. According to Griswold, " His conversation was at times almost supra-mortal in its eloquence. His voice was modulated with astonishing skill ; and his large and variably expressive eyes looked repose or shot fiery tumult into theirs who listened, while his own face glowed, or was changeless in pallor, as his imagination quick- ened his blood or drew it back frozen to his heart. His im- agery was from the worlds which no mortals can see but with the vision of genius." He exercised a strong fascination over women. " To a sensitive and delicately nurtured woman," wrote Mrs. Osgood, "there was a peculiar and irresistible charm in the chivalric, graceful, and almost tender reverence with which he invariably approached all women who won his respect." His writings are unstained by a single immoral sentiment. Toward the latter part of his sojourn in New York, the hand of poverty and want pressed upon him sorely. The failing health of his wife, to whom his tender devotion is beyond all praise, was a source of deep and constant anxiety. For a time he became an object of charity a humiliation that was ex- ceedingly galling to his delicately sensitive nature. To a sym- pathetic friend, who lent her kindly aid in this time of need, we owe a graphic but pathetic picture of Poe's home shortly before the death of his almost angelic wife. " There was no clothing on the bed, which was only straw, but a snow-white counterpane and sheets. The weather was cojd, and the sick lady had the dreadful chills that accompany the hectic fever of consumption. She lay on the straw bed, wrapped in her hus- EDGAR ALLAN POE. 179 band's great coat, with a large tortoise-shell cat in her bosom. The wonderful cat seemed conscious of her great usefulness. The coat and the cat were the sufferer's only means of warmth, except as her husband held her hands, and her mother her feet" She died Jan. 30, 1847. After this event Poe was never entirely himself again. The immediate effect of his bereavement was complete physical and mental prostration, from which he recovered only with diffi- culty. His subsequent literary work deserves scarcely more than mere mention. His " Eureka," an ambitious treatise, the immortality of which he confidently predicted, was a disap- pointment and failure. He tried lecturing, but with only mod- erate success. His correspondence at this time reveals a broken, hysterical, hopeless man. In his weakness, loneliness, and sorrow, he resorted to stimulants with increasing fre- quency. Their terrible work was soon done. On his return from a visit to Richmond, he stopped in Baltimore, where he died from the effects of drinking, Oct. 7, 1849. Thus ended the tragedy of his life. It is as depressing as one of his own morbid, fantastic tales. His career leaves a painful sense of incompleteness and loss. With greater self- discipline, how much more he might have accomplished for himself and for others ! Gifted, self-willed, proud, passionate, with meagre moral sense, he forfeited success by his perver- sity and his vices. From his own character and experience he drew the unhealthy and pessimistic views to which he I as given expression in the maddening poem, u The Conqueror Worm." And if there were not happier and nobler lives, we might well say with him, as we stand by his grave : " Out out are the lights out all ! And over each quivering form, The curtain, a funeral pall, Comes down with the rush of a storm, And the angels, all pallid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirm That the play is the tragedy ' Man,' And its hero the Conqueror Worm/ 180 AMERICAN LITERATURE. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. IN literature the historian records less of action than of thinking. Literature is a product of thought. The biography of many great writers is a story of "plain living and high thinking." This is pre-eminently true of Ralph Waldo Emer- son. His outward life was uneventful. He filled no high civic or political station ; he led no great reformatory move- ment that changed the character of society. His quiet, unosten- tatious life was devoted to the discovery and the proclamation of truth. As he said of Plato, his biography is interior. From time to time, as he felt called upon, he gave forth, in essays, lectures, and poems, the choice treasures he had carefully stored up in retirement and silence. He deserves to rank as one of our greatest thinkers. It should not be forgotten, however, that absolute originality is far less frequent than is sometimes supposed. As some writer has wittily said, the ancients have stolen our best thoughts. Other ages, no less than the present age, have had earnest, reflective souls. The same problems that press on us nature, life, society, freedom, death, destiny pressed on them for solution. In large measure the profound thinkers of the past have exhausted the field of speculative philosophy. "Out of Plato," says Emerson, "come all things that are still written and debated among men of thought. Great havoc makes he among our originalities." Only small advances can be made now and then, even by the children of genius. Emerson had a deep affinity for the imperial thinkers of our race. He made them his intimate friends, and assimilated their choicest thoughts. He settled the matter of plagiarism very simply. " All minds quote," he said. " Old and new make the warp RALPH WALDO EMERSON RALPH WALDO EMERSON. l8l and woof of every moment. There is no thread that is not a twist of these two strands. By necessity, by proclivity, and by delight, we all quote." Emerson was a philosopher only in the broad, original mean- ing of the word. He had but little power as a close, logical reasoner. He was incapable of building up a system. " I do not know," he says, " what arguments mean in reference to any expression of a thought. I delight in telling what I think ; but if you ask me how I dare say so, or why it is so, I am the most helpless of mortal men." He belongs to that higher class of men whom we revere as prophets or seers. His method was not logic, but intuition. In the pure light of genius, he saw the truth that he announced. His was " the oracular soul." He does not argue ; he only states or reveals. He gives ut- terance to what is communicated to him, whether men will receive it or not. There is an unbroken line of idealists and mystics running through the ages. While idealism and mysticism have often run into absurd extremes, they have fostered what is deepest and noblest in life belief in God, in truth, and in immor- tality. The greatest representative of this idealistic tendency in the past was unquestionably Plato. Since his day there have been many others Plotinus, Augustine, Eckhart, Tauler, Schelling, Coleridge who have sought to transcend the realm of the senses, and to commune immediately with the Infinite. Emerson is the leading representative of this philosophy in America. It is the source of his inspiration and power; it contains in varied application the great message he had to deliver to our superficial, commercial, money-loving country. His principal essays and poems rest on a mystic sense of the all-originating and all-pervading presence of God the source of all life, of all beauty, of all truth. Yet it must be remembered that he was a New Englander as well as a transcendentalist In spite of his idealism and mys- ticism, he never cut entirely loose from common sense. If at times he came perilously near ecstatic and unintelligible utter- 1 82 AMERICAN LITERATURE. ance, he soon recovered his balance. His sturdy Puritan sense saved him. His mysticism never drove him out of his com- fortable home into starving asceticism. It did not wholly par- alyze his active energies. Notwithstanding his strivings after communion with the Over-soul, he was not so lost to the com- monplace obligations of life as to neglect his family. It is true that he often grudged the time spent in attending to ordinary matters of business. " Do what I can," he said, " I cannot keep my eyes off the clock." But, unlike many another mystic, he did not let go of commonplace realities ; and in spite of his addiction to ineffable communings, he was an estimable and useful citizen. Ralph Waldo Emerson was of Puritan descent, and counted seven ministers in the immediate line of his ancestry. Born in Boston, May 25, 1803, he may be considered the consummate flower of a healthy and vigorous stock. Nature seems to have seized upon the intellectual and ethical qualities of his Puritan ancestors, and to have wrought them into the solid foundation of his character. He was fitted for college in the public Latin School of Boston, and entered Harvard in 1817. He took high rank in his classes, delighted in general reading, and ex- hibited a gentle and amiable disposition. In his senior year ae took the second prize in English composition, and at the conclusion of his course, in 1821, delivered the class-day poem. After his graduation, Emerson devoted the next five years to teaching, and met with an encouraging degree of success. He is described by one of his pupils as being "very grave, quiet, and impressive in his appearance. There was some- thing engaging, almost fascinating, about him; he was never harsh or severe, always perfectly self-controlled, never pun- ished except with words, but exercised complete command over the boys/' Along with his teaching, he pursued the study of theology under Channing, the great Unitarian leader and preacher. After three years of theological study he was " ap- probated to preach," though grave doubts had begun to trouble his mind. After spending a winter in South Carolina and RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 183 Florida for his health, he returned to Boston, and was ordained as colleague of the Rev. Henry Ware, pastor of the Second Unitarian Church. After the resignation of his colleague a few months later, Emerson became sole pastor, and performed his duties diligently and acceptably. With a broad and liberal spirit, he took an interest in the affairs of the city, served on the School Board, acted as chaplain of the State Senate, and co-operated in the philanthropic work of other denominations. His sermons, both in matter and form, foreshadowed his lectures and essays. Their profound thought was clothed in simple but felicitous diction. His manner as a speaker was quiet, earnest, and impressive. His voice was peculiarly pleas- ing "the perfect music of spiritual utterance." A brilliant career lay before him in the pulpit. But, as is usual in such cases, his doubts in regard to certain points of Christian doc- trine and traditional ceremonies increased. At last he came to feel conscientious scruples against administering the Lord's Supper. His expanding views outgrew even the very spacious liberality of his church. Had he been a time-server or a hyp- ocrite, he would have concealed his scruples. But a man of transparent integrity, he frankly avowed his difficulties to his people ; and, finding the prevailing sentiment of the congre- gation against his views, he resigned his office, and gradually withdrew from the ministry. But on neither side was there any bitterness of feeling ; and whatever errors there may have been in Christian doctrine, we must recognize the presence of the charity that " thinketh no evil." In 1833, the year following his resignation, he went to Europe for a few months, and visited Sicily, Italy, France, and England. He met a number of distinguished authors, among whom were Coleridge, De Quincey, Landor, Wordsworth, and Carlyle. A " quiet night of clear, fine talk " was the begin- ning of a warm friendship between him and Carlyle. His idealistic tendencies naturally made him partial to Words- worth's poetry, which was not without influence upon his intel- lectual development. 1 84 AMERICAN LITERATURE. After his return from Europe, Emerson entered upon his new career as lecturer. For half a century he continued to appear upon the platform as a lecturer, and gradually made his way to a foremost place. He exemplified the truth of what De Quincey wrote : " Whatever is too original will be hated at the first. It must slowly mould a public for itself." When Emerson began to present his idealistic and mystical views, he was not generally understood. His philosophy was an exotic growth. By the prosaic multitude he was looked upon as mildly insane. James Freeman Clarke thus describes the gen- eral impression made by his earlier lectures : " The majority of the sensible, practical community regarded him as mystical, or crazy, or affected, as an imitator of Carlyle, as racked and rev- olutionary, as a fool, as one who did not himself know what he meant. A small but determined minority, chiefly composed of young men and women, admired him and believed in him, took him for their guide, teacher, master. I, and most of my friends, belonged to this class. Without accepting all his opinions, or indeed knowing what they were, we felt that he did us more good than any other writer or speaker among us, and chiefly in two ways, first, by encouraging self-reliance; and, sec- ondly, by encouraging God-reliance." Emerson was not, in the usual sense of the term, an elo- quent speaker. He did not call to his aid the resources of intonation, gesture, and vehemence. But, in a spirit of ear- nestness and sincerity, he spoke his deepest convictions; and, in spite of his unimpassioned delivery, he was singularly im- pressive. His discourses were enveloped in an atmosphere of cheerful hopefulness that was especially helpful to the young. He believed in the ultimate triumph of truth over error, and inculcated a manly self-reliance and an absolute trust in God Such a preacher (for he regarded the platform as his pulpit) could not fail to exert a profound influence upon many lives. James Russell Lowell has described for us the effect of Emer- son's lectures on his younger hearers : " To some of us that long past experience remains the most marvellous and fruitful RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 18 5 we have ever had. Emerson awakened us, saved us from the body of this death. It is the sound of the trumpet that the young soul longs for, careless of what breath may fill it. Sid- ney heard it in the ballad of ' Chevy Chase/ and we in Emer- son. Nor did it blow retreat, but called us with assurance of victory." In 1829, a few months after becoming a pastor in Boston, Emerson married Miss Ellen Louisa Tucker. It is to her that the poem, " To Ellen at the South," is addressed. Apparently as delicate as the flowers that called to her in their devotion, she died of consumption in 1832. Three years later Emerson married Miss Lydia Jackson, and at once occupied the house at Concord in which he resided till his death. In this town of historic and literary associations, " He was surrounded by men," to use the words of Oliver Wendell Holmes, " who ran to extremes in their idiosyncrasies : Alcott in speculations, which often led him into the fourth dimension of mental space ; Hawthorne, who brooded himself into a dream-peopled soli- tude ; Thoreau, the nullifier of civilization, who insisted on nibbling his asparagus at the wrong end ; to say nothing of idolaters and echoes. He kept his balance among them all." He became the most distinguished citizen of the place ; and, as the years passed by, his home became the object of pious pilgrimages for his disciples and admirers. In 1836 he com- posed the " Concord Hymn," which was sung at the comple- tion of the battle monument : " By the rude bridge that arched the flood, Their flag to April's breeze unfurled, Here once the embattled farmers stood, And fired the shot heard round the world." For some years Emerson's studies had been in the line of idealistic and mystical philosophy. He gave much time to Plato ; dipped into Plotinus and the German mystics ; read with enthusiasm the poems of George Herbert, and the prose writings of Cudworth, Henry More, Milton, Jeremy Taylor, 1 86 AMERICAN LITERATURE. and Coleridge. In 1836, as a result of these studies, he published a little vblume entitled " Nature," which contained the substance of his subsequent teachings in both prose and poetry. It is based on a pure idealism, which teaches that matter is only a manifestation of spirit. " We learn that the Highest is present to the soul of man, that the dread universal Essence, which is not wisdom, of love, or beauty, or power, but all in one, and each entirely, is that for which all things exist, and that by which they are ; that spirit creates ; that behind nature, throughout nature, spirit is present ; that spirit is one, and not compound ; that spirit does not act upon us from without, that is, in space and time, but spiritually, or through ourselves." The book was variously judged, according to the insight or prejudices of the critics. From its very na- ture it could not be popular, and some years elapsed before it reached a sale of five hundred copies. The year "Nature" was published, the transcendental move- ment began to assume tangible form. Its representatives, drawn together by common sympathies and aspirations, organ- ized themselves into a society for mutual aid and encour- agement. This society was known as "The Transcendental Club," and held informal meetings from house to house for the discussion of philosophical questions. As a class the trans- cendentalists, among whom were Emerson, Alcott, Channing, George Ripley, Theodore Parker, James Freeman Clarke, Thoreau, Margaret Fuller, and others, were earnest in their search after truth. They were optimistic, and generally favor- able to all sorts of reforms and innovations ; but occasionally they were also extravagant and impractical such people, in short, as in the hard realism of to-day are denominated cranks. . Transcendentalism is but another name for idealism. It recognizes an all-pervading spiritual presence as the ultimate reality. It is opposed to materialism. It teaches that man has a faculty transcending the senses and the understanding as an organ of truth. It believes in the existence of a Univer- sal Reason, of which the human soul is an individual manifes- RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 187 tatioh a divine spark. The highest knowledge is intuitional; it is an inspiration of the omnipresent Spirit. All things, ani- mate and inanimate, are but a manifestation of infinite Spirit, which binds the universe together in a sublime unity, and is the source of all wisdom, truth, and beauty. The material world is the image or symbol of the spiritual world ; all natural objects and laws are ideas of God. It was for the dissemination of these philosophic principles, which now gave character to all of Emerson's thinking, that The Dial was established. It was edited at first by Margaret Fuller, and afterwards by Emerson, who furnished numerous contributions in both prose and poetry. Of course the maga- zine, with its vague and often unintelligible lucubrations, drew upon itself a good deal of hostile criticism. Emerson com- plained that it was "honored by attacks from almost every newspaper and magazine." Even Carlyle wrote : " I love your Dial, and yet it is with a kind of shudder. You seem to me in danger of dividing yourselves from the Fact of this present Universe, in which alone, ugly as it is, can I find any anchor- age, and soaring away after Ideas, Beliefs, Revelations, and such like, into perilous altitudes, as I think." It proved too ethereal a plant for this hard, common-sense world, and after four years it died. There was still another important product of the transcen- dental movement. In 1840 Emerson wrote to Carlyle : " We are all a little wild here with numberless projects of social reform. Not a reading man but has a draft of a new com- munity in his waistcoat pocket. I am gently mad myself, and am resolved to live cleanly. George Ripley is talking up a colony of agriculturists and scholars, with whom he threatens to take the field and the book. One man renounces the use of animal food ; and another, coin ; and another, domestic hired service ; and another, the state ; and, on the whole, we have a commendable share of reason and hope." The following year Ripley's project took form in " The Brook Farm Associa- tion for Education and Agriculture." The object of the asso- 1 88 AMERICAN LITERATURE. elation, in the words of its originator, was "to insure a more natural union between intellectual and manual labor than now exists ; to combine the thinker and the worker, as far as possi- ble, in the same individual ; to guarantee the highest mental freedom by providing all with labor adapted to their tastes and talents, and securing to them the fruits of their industry." Its aim, in short, was to furnish a model of an ideal civiliza- tion, in which there would be the least possible manual toil, and the largest amount of intellectual and spiritual culture. Emerson, while looking on the experiment with friendly inter- est, held aloof from active participation. His profound knowl- edge of human nature seems to have inspired misgivings as to its practical workings. Yet when the Brook Farm Association came to an end in 1846, he pronounced it in its aims a noble and generous movement. In 1841 Emerson published his first volume of "Essays," containing History, Self-Reliance, Compensation, Spiritual Laws. Love, Friendship, Prudence, Heroism, The Over-Soul, Circles, Intellect, and Art. Composed under the fresh inspiration of his idealism, these essays are unsurpassed in depth and rich- ness by anything he subsequently wrote. Perhaps nothing more suggestive and inspiring has been produced in the whole range of American literature. But when the " Essays " ap- peared, New England did not breathe freely at such altitudes of speculation ; and various critics, failing to catch its funda- mental philosophy, stigmatized the book as vague, extravagant, meaningless. It is worth while to dwell for a moment on this work. To understand it is to master Emerson. The first essay, on His- tory, sounds the key-note to the whole series: "There is one mind common to all individual men. Every man is an inlet to the same and to all of the same. He that is once admitted to the right of reason is made a freeman of the whole estate. What Plato has thought, he may think ; what a saint has felt, he may feel ; what at any time has befallen any man, he can understand. Who hath access to this universal mind is a party RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 189 to all that is or can be done, for this is the only sovereign agent." The verses prefixed as a kind of motto or text em- body the same idea : " There is no great and no small To the Soul that maketh all ; And where it cometh, all things are ; And it cometh everywhere." The following lines, presenting the same thought in more concrete form, will be found a little startling : " I am owner of the sphere, Of the seven stars and the solar year, Of Caesar's hand, and Plato's brain, Of Lord Christ's heart, and Shakespeare's strain." In Self-Reliance, Emerson urges us to be true to our own thought, to trust our own conviction, to shake off all spiritual bondage. No less than other men, whether of the present age or former ages, we are organs of the Universal Reason. " We lie in the lap of immense Intelligence, which makes us organs of its activity and receivers of its truth. When we discern justice, when we discern truth, we do nothing of ourselves, but allow a passage to its beams. If we ask whence this comes, if we seek to pry into the soul that causes, all metaphysics, all philosophy, is at fault. Its presence or its absence is all we can affirm." The same thought, which lies at the basis of nearly all his Essays in inexhaustible richness, is fully devel- oped in The Over-Soul. Emerson's life at this time was simple, busy, studious. He took a lively interest in his vegetable garden and in his little orchard of thirty trees. He had an income of about thirteen hundred dollars from invested funds, to which he added eight hundred dollars by his winter lectures. In a letter to Carlyle, dated May 10, 1838, he gives us a pleasing glimpse of his home life : " My wife Lydia is an incarnation of Christianity I call her Asia and keeps my philosophy from Antinomian- 190 AMERICAN LITERATURE. ism ; my mother, whitest, mildest, most conservative of ladies, whose only exception to her Universal preference for old things is her son ; my boy, a piece of love and sunshine, Well worth my watching from morning to night, these, and three domes- tic women, who cook and sew and run for us, make all my household. Here I sit and read and write, with very little system, and, as far as regards composition, with the most frag- mentary results : paragraphs incompressible, each sentence an infinitely repellent particle." But, alas ! this qtiiet abode of domestic joy was hot to re- main unsmitten. That idolized boy of five years that "piece of love and sunshine " - was taken away. " A few weeks ago," wrote the stricken father, " I accounted myself a very rich man, and now the poorest of all." His grief blossomed in the " Threnody," one of the noblest elegies ever written. To his overwhelming sorrow, doubt, and despair, "the deep Heart " back of all things at last spoke comfort and cheer : " Wilt thou not ope thy heart to know What rainbows teach, and sunsets show ? Verdict which accumulates From lengthening scroll of human fates, Voicfe of earth to earth returned, Prayers of saints that inly burned, Saying, What is excellent As God lives, is permanent ; Hearts are dust,, hearts' loves remain , Hearts* love will meet thee again." In 1844 Emerson published a second volume of "Essays" in his characteristic Veiri. Almost every year, from the time he gave up his pastoral work, added to the list of his notable addresses. He brought his Idealism to bear on various ques- tions connected with theology, education, and government. In theology he drifted farther away from orthodox Unitarianism ; and an address delivered before the senior class of Divinity College, Cambridge^ in 1838, caused a sensation and started a controversy, in which he "had little more than the part of Pa- RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 1 91 troclus when the Greeks and Trojans fought over his body. 7 ' He was not a controversialist, but a seer. He deplored the materialistic tendency of this rapidly developing commercial age, and raised his warning voice. In a college address in 1841 he declares that the thirst for wealth " acts like the neighborhood of a gold-mine to impoverish the farm, the school, the church, the house, and the very body and feature of man." His face was turned to the future with perpetual youth, and his message always carried with it encouragement and hope. He sympathized with every reformatory movement that promised a better social condition. He favored the aboli- tion of slavery, and encouraged the movement for "woman's rights." In an address in 1855, he said: "The new move- ment is only a tide shared by the spirits of man and woman ; and you may proceed in the faith that whatever the woman's heart is prompted to desire, the man's mind is simultaneously prompted to accomplish." In 1847 Emerson made a second visit to England, and de- livered a number of lectures to enthusiastic audiences. The best of these lectures he afterwards published under the title of "Representative Men." It is one of his most interesting and valuable works, intelligent even to the uninitiated. In 1856 appeared his " English Traits," in which he embodied the shrewd observation and interesting reflections of his sojourn in England. He was delighted with English life, which, of course, he saw on the best side ; but he still preserved his equilibrium sufficiently to smile at a foible, or point out an un- flattering truth. Of Emerson's other prose works, "The Con- duct of Life," " Society and Solitude," " Letters and Social Aims," though meriting extended notice, no more than mere mention can be made. In 1846 Emerson published his first volume of "Poems," and in 1867 appeared " May Day and Other Pieces." In spite of Matthew Arnold's judgment to the contrary, Emerson was a true poet, as well as an impressive lecturer and surpassing es- sayist. His poetry, no less than his prose, is pervaded by his 1 92 AMERICAN LITERATURE. idealistic philosophy. In his admirable poem, " Wood-Notes," he thus speaks of nature : " Ever fresh the broad creation, A divine improvisation, From the heart of God proceeds, A single will, a million deeds." As a product of spirit, the world is full of meaning. It is pervaded by^ a divine symbolism, which it is the office of the poet to read and interpret. Emerson calls the world " a temple, whose walls are covered with emblems, pictures, and command- ments of the Deity." "Poetry," he says, "is the perpetual endeavor to express the spirit of the thing." Nature is to him a continual revelation; hence he says in the little poem, " Good-by, " "And when I am stretched beneath the pines, Where the evening star so holy shines, I laugh at the lore and the pride of man, At the sophist schools and the learned clan ; For what are they all, in their high conceit, When man in the bush with God may meet ? " Emerson took his poetic office seriously. He considered poetry the highest vocation. " The poet," he says, " is the sayer, the namer, and represents beauty. He is a sovereign, and stands at the centre. For the world is not painted or adorned, but is from the beginning beautiful ; and God has not made some beautiful things, but Beauty is the creator of the universe. Therefore the poet is not any permissive potentate, but is emperor in his own right." In "Merlin," Emerson says : "Thy trivial harp will never please Or fill my craving ear; Its chords should ring as blows the breeze, Free, peremptory, clear. No jingling serenader's art, Nor tinkle of piano strings, RALPH WALDO EMERSON. Can make the wild blood start In its mystic springs." 193 Impressed with the grandeur of the poet's vocation, Emer- son was more or less indifferent to the art of versification. He rose above ingenious tricks and petty fancies. He has been called a poet "wanting the accomplishment of verse." He depended for success upon grandeur of thought, and truth of revelation. " For it is not metres," he says, " but a metre- making argument, that makes a poem, a thought so passion- ate and alive, that, like the spirit of a plant or an animal, it has an architecture of its own, and adorns nature with a new thing." Again in "Merlin," he says: "Great is the art, Great be the manners, of the bard. He shall not his brain encumber With the coil of rhythm and number; But, leaving rule and pale forethought, He shall aye climb For his rhyme." Emerson was a loving student of nature. He reminds us of Wordsworth in his painstaking observation. His exqui- site appreciation of natural beauty is often expressed in words nobly wedded to the sense. In " The Snow-Storm, " the retiring north wind " Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone, Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work, The frolic architecture of the snow." And again in " Wood-Notes : " "Thou canst not wave thy staff in air, Or dip thy paddle in the lake, But it carves the bow of beauty there, And the ripples in rhymes the oar forsake." He deduces from the humblest objects in nature the richest lessons of practical wisdom. To him the humblebee is 194 AMERICAN LITERATURE. "Wiser far than human seer, Yellow-breeched philosopher. Seeing only what is fair, Sipping only what is sweet, Thou dost mock at fate and care, Leave the chaff, and take the wheat." He knew the sweet, soothing influence of nature, of which Bryant spoke. In " Musketaquid, " he says : "All my hurts My garden spade can heal. A woodland walk, A quest of river grapes, a mocking thrush, A wild rose, or rock-loving columbine, Salves my worst wounds." Notwithstanding his treasures of beauty and wisdom, Emer- son can hardly be a popular poet. He dwells in the higher regions of song. He must be content with a small but select audience. He does not deal in sentimentality " poetry fit to be put round frosted cake ; " he does not clothe his thought in the richest music of numbers. He is profoundly thoughtful ; he earnestly strives to voice the speechless messages of the Over-soul. He grows upon us as we grasp more fully his meaning. Though not the most entertaining of our poets, he brings us the deepest and most helpful messages. His poetry, like his prose, brings courage and hope to burdened and strug- gling men. He calls them to sincerity, to faith, to truth. In the tasks that come to us, divine help is near: " So nigh is grandeur to our dust, So near is God to man, When Duty whispers low, Thou must, The youth replies, / can" If there are any who question this estimate, let them read, besides the poems already mentioned, "Each and All," "The Problem," "The Rhodora," "Astraea," "Sursum Corda," "Ode RALPH WALDO EMERSON. ^5 to Beauty," " Give All to Love," " Voluntaries," and many others. Emerson was peculiar in his literary methods. It is doubt- ful whether we have had another author so frugal in husband- ing every thought. Besides the work done in his study day by day, he was accustomed to jot down in a note-book the stray thoughts that came to him in conversation or on his walks. The suggestions that occurred to him in his studies, conversations, and meditations he elaborated in a common- place book, where he noted the subject of each paragraph. He thus preserved the best thoughts of his most fertile moments. When he had occasion to prepare an essay or a lecture, he brought together all the paragraphs relating to the subject in his commonplace books, supplying, at the same time, such new connective matter as might be necessary. This method wilL explain the evident absence of logical treatment in most of his writings, and also account for the fact, noted by Alcott, that " you may begin at the last paragraph and read backwards." Emerson subjected his writings to repeated and exacting revis- ions. Paragraphs were condensed, and every superfluous sen- tence and word were mercilessly pruned away. " Nowhere else," as Burroughs says, " is there such a preponderance of pure statement, of the very attar of thought, over the bulkier, circumstantial, qualifying, or secondary elements." The year 1867 is indicated as about the limit of his work- ing life. He gave pathetic expression to his experience in the poem entitled " Terminus : " " It is time to be old, To take in sail : The god of bounds, Who sets to seas a shore, Came to me in his fatal rounds, And said ' No more.' " The closing years of his life resembled an ever-deepening twilight. Hearing, sight, memory, slowly but gradually gave 196 AMERICAN LITERATURE. way. At last, April 27, 1882, surrounded by those he loved, he was beckoned "to his vaster home." Shall we not say that his life was beautiful ? Men testified of him that he was radi- ant with goodness, that his presence was like a benediction, that he exhibited the meekness and gentleness of Christ. To have been such a man is better than to have been a great writer. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 197 NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. IT is not difficult to portray the lives of ordinary men. Their outward circumstances present nothing unusual, and their inward experiences admit of ready comprehension and description. All that is needed in such cases is diligent re- search. But it is different with the man upon whom Provi- dence has lavished such a wealth of gifts as raises him high above his fellows. The outward incidents of his life may indeed be easily narrated. But when these have been pre- sented in the fullest measure, how inadequate and unsatisfac- tory the portrait still remains ! That which distinguishes him from other men, and exalts him above them, is felt to be untouched. And when we essay to penetrate the secret of his genius, we are puzzled and baffled at every step. Only unsatisfactory glimpses reward our most patient observation. Strange and beautiful flowers may burst forth under our very gaze ; but the marvellous energy that produces them remains invisible and mysterious. These reflections force themselves upon us as we study the life of the most original and most gifted of all our American writers. The interesting historic town of Salem, Mass.. has the dis- tinction of being the birthplace of Nathaniel Hawthorne. Here he first saw the light, July 4, 1804. He sprang from Puri- tan stock almost as old as the Plymouth colony. The strong traits of his ancestry, as he himself recognized, intertwined themselves with his personality. His ancestors occupied a position of social and official prominence, and won an unen- viable distinction in persecuting Quakers and killing witches. For a hundred years before his birth they followed the sea; "a gray-headed shipmaster, in each generation, retiring from 198 AMERICAN LITERATURE. the quarterdeck to the homestead, while a boy of fourteen took the hereditary place before the mast, confronting the salt spray and the gale, which had blustered against his sire and grand- sire." His father was a reserved, thoughtful man of strong will ; his mother, a gifted, sensitive woman, who led the life of a recluse after her husband's death. These traits, as will be seen, were transmitted to their son in an intensified degree. Only glimpses of his boyhood brief, but very distinct are afforded us. "One of the peculiarities of my boyhood," he tells us, " was a grievous disinclination to go to school, and (Providence favoring me in this natural repugnance) I never did go half as much as other boys, partly owing to delicate health (which I made the most of for the purpose), and partly because, much of the time, there were no schools within reach." One of his early teachers was Worcester of dictionary fame. He spent a year at Raymond on the banks of Sebago Lake in Maine, where he ran wild, hunting, fishing, skating, and read- ing at pleasure, a period that subsequently remained with him as a happy memory. Returning to Salem, he was tutored for college, and entered Bowdoin in the autumn of 1821. His college career cannot be cited as a model. " I was an idle student," he confesses, "negligent of college rules and the Procrustean details of academic life, rather choosing to nurse my own fancies than to dig into Greek roots and be numbered among the learned Thebans." He played cards on the sly ; he drank (a student never drinks anything stronger) "wine" and "hard cider;" he went fishing and hunting when the faculty thought he was at his books. But in spite of his easy-going habits he maintained a respectable standing in his classes, and his Latin composition and his rendering of the clas- sics were favorably spoken of. He was an exceedingly hand- some young man ; and it is said that an old gypsy woman, suddenly meeting him in a lonely forest path, was startled into the question, " Are you a man or an angel ? " Among his college associates, who afterwards achieved distinction, were Henry W. Longfellow and Franklin Pierce. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 1 99 The youth of Hawthorne gave no startling premonitions of future greatness. But there is evidence that he was not uncon- scious of his latent extraordinary powers ; and some at least of his intimate friends discerned his literary gifts. In a letter to his mother, written in his boyhood, he says : " I do not want to be a doctor and live by man's diseases, nor a minister to live by their sins, nor a lawyer and live by their quarrels ; so I don't see that there is anything left for me but to be an author. How would you like, some day, to see a whole shelf full of books written by your son, with ' Hawthorne's Works ' printed on their backs ? " To Horatio Bridge, an old and intimate friend, he says: "I know not whence your faith came; but while we were lads together at a country college, . . . doing a hundred things that the faculty never heard of, or else it had been the worse for us, still it was your prognostic of your friend's destiny that he was to be a writer of fiction." His youthful reading was sufficiently extensive. " The Pil- grim's Progress," as with so many others, was a favorite book. He read Scott, Rousseau, and Froissart, though he was not fond of history in general. He loved poetry; and with catholic taste he studied Thomson and Pope, as well as Milton and Shake- speare. The first book he bought with his own money was "The Faerie Queene." But it can hardly be said that he was a great lover of books. He never made any pretence to schol- arship, and there are few quotations in his writings. But he was one of the keenest observers ; and the books he loved most were the forms of nature and the faces of men. These he read as it were by stealth ; and, excepting the mighty Shakespeare, no one else ever read them more deeply. The quiet forest and the stirring city were to him great libraries, where he traced the almost invisible writing of the Creator. Thus, as he said of the simple husbandman in " The Great Stone Face," he " had ideas unlike those of other men, not gained from books, but of a higher tone, a tranquil and familiar majesty, as if he had been talking with the angels as his daily friends." After his graduation, in 1825, Hawthorne returned to his 200 AMERICAN LITERATURE. home in Salem, and for several years led a life of phenomenal seclusion and toil. His habits were almost mechanical in their regularity. He studied in the morning, wrote in the afternoon, and wandered by the seashore in the evening. He sedulously shunned society; and "destiny itself," he afterwards wrote, "has often been worsted in the attempt to get me out to dinner." But his recluse life should not be looked upon as gloomy and morbid. In pondering human life; he was indeed fond of the weird and the mysterious. He explored the hidden crypts of the soul. But his mind was far too healthy and strong to be weighed down with permanent gloom. He never lost his anchorage of common sense ; and a genial humor cast its cheer- ful light upon his darkest musings. During this period of retirement he was serving a laborious apprenticeship to his craft Never was a writer more exacting in self-criticisin. Much that he wrote was mercilessly consigned to the flames. In these years of painstaking toil, from which even the highest genius is not exempt, he acquired his exquisite sense of form, and his marvellous mastery of English. " Haw- thorne's English," as Hillard says, "is absolutely unique; very careful and exact, but never studied ; with the best word always in the best place ; pellucid as crystal ; full of delicate and va- ried music ; with gleams of poetry, and touches of that peculiar humor of his, which is half smile and half sigh." During the period in question he published in the Token, the New England Magazine, and other periodicals a considerable number of tales. They appeared anonymously, and attracted but little attention. Hawthorne had for a good many years what he called " the distinction of being the obscurest man of letters in America." It was a grievous disappointment and humiliation. In 1837 most of these scattered productions were brought together, and published in a volume with the happy title of "Twice-Told Tales." It had but a limited circulation. While it charmed a class of cultivated, reflective readers, its very excellence prevented it from becoming widely popular. In a review of the book, Longfellow, with clear, critical acumen, NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 2OI said : " It comes from the hand of a man of genius. Every- thing about it has the freshness of morning and of May. These flowers and green leaves of poetry have not the dust of the highway upon them. They have been gathered fresh from the secret places of a peaceful and gentle heart. There flow deep waters, silent, calm, and cool; and the green trees look into them, and 'God's blue heaven.' The book, though in prose, is written, nevertheless, by a poet. He looks upon all things in the spirit of love and with lively sympathies ; for to him exter- nal form is but the representation of internal being, all things having a life, and end and aim." This volume, together with a second series of " Tales " published in 1842, was in truth a remarkable contribution to American literature, and by its enduring interest, beauty, and truth, has since established itself as a classic. The year 1838 brought an important change in Hawthorne's life. Under the Democratic administration of Van Buren, he was appointed weigher and gauger in the Boston Custom- house. It was well for him that he was thus called to com- mon labor. He himself recognized that his life of seclusion had been sufficiently protracted. " I want to have something to do with this material world," he said. His new employment rescued him from the danger of becoming morbid, broadened his sympathies, and enriched his mind with new stores of ob- servation and experience. He learned to know life, not as it may be conceived of in seclusion, but as it is in reality. Hence- forth he was able to take up his pen with the conviction " that mankind was a solid reality, and that he himself was not a dream." After two years of laborious and faithful service, during which his literary work was suspended, a change of adminis- tration resulted in his being turned out of office. He engaged in the socialistic experiment of Brook Farm ; and, as we learn from his letters, he entered upon his new duties with consider- able enthusiasm. He chopped hay with such " righteous vehe- mence " that he broke the machine in ten minutes- Armed 202 AMERICAN LITERATURE. with a pitchfork he made what seemed to him a gallant attack upon a heap of manure. He turned grindstones and milked cows ; hoed potatoes and picked apples ; made hay and gath- ered squashes ; and then for supper devoured huge mounds of buckwheat cakes. But at last his sense of humor, which kept him for a time from taking life at Brook Farm too seriously, began to fail him. His tasks became intensely prosaic ; and finally he fell into the carnal state that made him welcome the idleness of a rainy day, or kept him on the sick-list longer than the necessities of the case actually required. At Brook Farm, as elsewhere, Hawthorne not only made "a prey of people's individualities," to use his own phrase, but he observed nature also with microscopic vision. Accord- ing to his custom, which he kept up through life, he stored his note-books with interesting observations and reflections. A few years later he etherealized his Brook Farm experience into the " Blithedale Romance," which ranks as one of his best productions. It was published in 1852. Though he protests in the preface against a too literal understanding of his ro- mance, Margaret Fuller is thought to have furnished some traits of Zenobia ; and it is impossible not to associate Haw- thorne himself with Miles Coverdale. The following extract, which sets forth the cruel disillusion of the Brook Farm vision- aries, is not fiction : " While our enterprise lay all in theory, we had pleased ourselves with delectable visions of the spirit- ualization of labor. It was to be our form of prayer and cere- monial of worship. Each stroke of the hoe was to uncover some aromatic root of wisdom, heretofore hidden from the sun. Pausing in the field to let the wind exhale the moisture from our foreheads, we were to look upward, and catch glimpses into the far-off soul of truth. In this point of view, matters did not turn out quite so well as we anticipated. . . . The clods of earth, which we so constantly belabored and turned over, were never etherealized into thought. Our thoughts, on the contrary, were fast becoming cloddish. Our labor symbol- ized nothing, and left us mentally sluggish in the dusk of the NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 203 evening. Intellectual activity is incompatible with any large amount of bodily exercise." Hawthorne remained at Brook Farm not quite a year. He returned to Boston, where he married Miss Sophia Peabody in 1842. The union was a peculiarly happy one. Mrs. Haw- thorne was a gifted and amiable woman, who appreciated her husband's genius ; and throughout their wedded career, which seems to have been unmarred by a single misunderstanding, she stood at his side as a wise counsellor, sympathetic friend, and helpful compa-nion. Their correspondence, not only during the days of courtship, but also during the whole course of their wedded life, constantly breathes a spirit of delicate, tender, reverent love. The newly wedded pair at once took up their residence in the Old Manse at Concord, where they numbered among their friends Emerson, Ellery Charming, and Thoreau. Hawthorne had not waited for wealth before marrying. It sometimes be- came a serious problem to satisfy the grocer and the butcher. But in spite of the cares growing out of their humble circum- stances, the happy pair maintained a cheerful courage. " The other day," wrote Mrs. Hawthorne, " when my husband saw me contemplating an appalling vacuum in his dressing-gown, he said he was ' a man of the largest rents in the country, and it was strange he had not more ready money.' Our rents are certainly not to be computed ; for everything seems now to be wearing out all at once. . . . But, somehow or other, I do not care much, because we are so happy. We Sail away ' Sail away Into the regions of exceeding day,* and the shell of life is not of much consequence." In the introductory chapter to the " Mosses from an Old Manse," a delightful book made up of stories written for the most part at this period, Hawthorne gives us a minute descrip- tion of his new home. The Old Manse had never been " pro- faned by a lay occupant," he says, "until that memorable 204 AMERICAN LITERATURE. summer afternoon when I entered it as my home. A priest had built it, a priest had succeeded to it ; other priestly men from time to time had dwelt in it, and children born in its chambers had grown up to assume the priestly character. It was awful to reflect how many sermons must have been written there. . . . There was in the rear of the house the most de- lightful little nook of a study that ever offered its snug seclu- sion to a scholar. It was here that Emerson wrote * Nature ; ' for he was then an inhabitant of the Manse, and used to watch the Assyrian dawn and the Paphian sunset and moonrise from the summit of our eastern hill. When I first saw the room, its walls were blackened with the smoke of unnumbered years, and made still blacker by the grim prints of Puritan ministers that hung around. These worthies looked strangely like bad angels or, at least, like men who had wrestled so continually and so sternly with the devil that somewhat of his sooty fierce- ness had been imparted to their own visages." Hawthorne lived at Concord four years, a period of ripened manhood and deepened character. He was then appointed surveyor in the Custom-house at Salem, where he went to live in 1846. He was not very partial to his native town ; and in one of his letters of an earlier date he gives humorous expres- sion to his dislike : " Methinks, all enormous sinners should be sent on pilgrimage to Salem, and compelled to spend a length of time there, proportioned to the enormity of their offences. Such punishment would be suited to crimes that do not quite deserve hanging, yet are too aggravated for the State's prison." He discharged the duties of his office with exemplary fidelity. He did but little literary work ; but he was not so entirely absorbed in his prosaic duties as not to make his customary but silent and unsuspected observations upon the characters of those about him. In the introduction to " The Scarlet Letter," which was published in 1850, he gives an account of his custom-house experiences, and furnishes us a delightful series of portraits of his subordinates. Take, for example, a single trait in the char- NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 2O$ acter of the patriarch of the custom-house : " His gormandism was a highly agreeable trait ; and to hear him talk of roast meat was as appetizing as a pickle or an oyster. As he pos- sessed no higher attribute, and' neither sacrificed nor vitiated any spiritual endowment by devoting all his energies and in- genuities to subserve the delight and profit of his maw, it always pleased and satisfied me to hear him expatiate on fish, poultry, and butcher's meat, and the most eligible methods of preparing them for the table. His reminiscences of good cheer, however ancient the date of the actual banquet, seemed to bring the savor of pig or turkey under one's very nostrils. There were flavors on his palate that had lingered there not less than sixty or seventy years, and were still apparently as fresh as the mutton-chop which he had just devoured for his breakfast. I have heard him smack his lips over dinners, every guest at which, except himself, had long been food for worms. . . . The chief tragic event of the old man's life, so far as I could judge, was his mishap with a certain goose which lived and died some twenty or forty years ago ; a goose of most promising figure, but which at table proved so invete- rately tough that the carving-knife would make no impression on its carcass, and it could only be divided with an axe and handsaw." After three years a change of administration again led to Hawthorne's retirement. " Now you will have leisure to write your book," cheerfully exclaimed his wife, when he told her of his removal. When he asked what they would live on mean- while, she led him to a desk, and proudly pointed to a heap of gold that she had saved out of her weekly allowance for household expenses. He set to work at once upon " The Scarlet Letter," perhaps the best known of his writings, and the most subtile and powerful piece of fiction produced in this country. It is a tragedy of sin and remorse, in which thoughts are acts. Its extraordinary merits were at once recognized, and at a single bound Hawthorne attained the literary emi- nence that his genius deserved. His day of obscurity was 206 AMERICAN LITERATURE, past ; the praises of " The Scarlet Letter " in America were re-echoed in England. This enthusiastic reception of his work, which his frequent disappointments had not prepared him for, brought him satisfaction and encouragement. It seems to have acted upon him as a stimulus to renewed effort ; and the years immediately following were the most productive of his life. Even the greatest genius needs the encouragement of appre- ciation. In 1850, the year in which " The Scarlet Letter" appeared, Hawthorne moved to Lenox in western Massachusetts. He occupied a small red cottage, which, but for its commanding view of mountain, lake, and valley, could not have been con- sidered in keeping with his gifts and fame. His limited means still enforced simplicity of living. Here he wrote " The House of the Seven Gables," one of his four great romances, which was published in 1851. It was written, as were most of his works, to set forth a spiritual truth. The story was never with Hawthorne the principal thing. It was simply the skeleton, which he clothed with the flesh of thought and vitalized with the breath of truth. " The House of the Seven Gables " illus- trates the great truth " that the wrong-doing of one generation lives into the succeeding ones, and, divesting itself of every temporary advantage, becomes a pure and uncontrollable mis- chief." While at Lenox, Hawthorne wrote also his "Wonder-Book" for boys and girls, a beautifully modernized version of ancient classic myths. Though intended for children, it is not with- out interest for older people. With his growing popularity his financial condition improved ; and in 1852 he purchased a house at Concord, formerly owned by Alcott, to which he gave the name of the Wayside. Here he took up his abode, and completed his "Tanglewood Tales," another admirable volume intended for young people. Upon the nomination of his friend Franklin Pierce for the presidency, he consented, not without urgent solicitation, to prepare a campaign biography. It is characterized by good taste and sobriety of judgment. After NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. the election of Pierce, he received the appointment of consul to Liverpool, and sailed for Europe in 1853. This opportunity to spend some time abroad came to the Hawthornes as the realization of a long-cherished dream. Few Americans have been better fitted in culture to appreciate and enjoy the society, historic associations, and art treasures of the Old World. Though Hawthorne discharged the duties of his position with conscientious fidelity, its emoluments, which were considerable, constituted its principal charm. "I disliked my office from the first," he says, " and never came into any good accordance with it. Its dignity, so far as it had any, was an encumbrance ; the attentions it drew upon me (such as invita- tions to mayors' banquets and public celebrations of all kinds, where, to my horror, I found myself expected to stand up and speak) were as I may say without incivility or ingratitude, because there is nothing personal in that sort of hospitality a bore. The official business was irksome, and often painful. There was nothing pleasant about the whole affair, except the emoluments." As at Salem, Hawthorne kept his eyes open to his sur- roundings, and filled his note-books with many charming inci- dents and descriptions. At intervals he made brief excursions to the most noted parts of England. His literary fame caused him to be much sought after, and he saw the most distinguished men of the time. Like Irving, he entertained a friendly feel- ing toward the mother-country, which he fondly calls, in a work recording his experience and impressions, "Our Old Home." But he had no disposition, as he said, to besmear our self- conscious English cousins with butter and honey. " These people," he says, " think so loftily of themselves, and so con- temptuously of everybody else, that it requires more generosity than I possess to keep always in perfectly good humor with them." After five years Hawthorne resigned the consulate at Liver- pool, and then devoted two years to travel, chiefly in France and Italy. It was a period of rest, observation, and reflection. 208 AMERICAN LITERATURE. The art treasures of Rome, as well as its historic associations, were a source of exquisite pleasure. His Italian impressions he embodied in the last of his great romances, " The Marble Faun." It was sketched out in Italy, rewritten in England, and published in 1860. It abounds in art criticism and de- scriptions of Italian scenery. But through it all there runs a deathless story, with the profound moral that a perfect culture is unattainable in a state of innocence, and that the noblest character can be developed only through spiritual conflict Hawthorne had a deep sense of human sin and guilt. It enters into many of his writings, and tinges them with a sombre hue. His works appeal most to those who have been chastened in toil and suffering. He everywhere breathes a spirit of ten- der sympathy, from which no one, however erring and fallen, is excluded. " Man," he says, " must not disclaim his brother- hood even with the guiltiest, since, though his hand be clean, his heart has surely been polluted by the flitting phantoms of iniquity." In the conflicts and sufferings of humanity he rec- ognized the struggle of the race after a better and purer life than has yet been realized on earth. The year " The Marble Faun " appeared, Hawthorne re- turned to his native country, and made his home once more at the Wayside. But the fire of genius was burning low. He no longer enjoyed robust health; and, while the country was engaged in the throes of civil war, he found it impossible to give himself to the calm, secluded task of inventing stories, No other great work came from his magic pen. He indeed essayed other achievements ; but " Septimius Felton " was never finished, and " The Dolliver Romance " remained a fragment. His health gradually declined. At last, in the faint hope of improvement, he started with his lifelong friend Pierce on a journey through northern New England. But the sudden death that he had desired came to him at Plymouth, N.H., May 19, 1864. A few days later he was laid to rest with Thoreau in the cemetery at Concord. This survey of Hawthorne's life and work enables us to NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. distinguish some of the elements that entered into his unique character. His piercing vision gave him a deep sense of spirit- ual reality. Like every finely organized nature, he was pro- foundly reverent. In the seclusion of his chamber and on his lonely rambles he felt what he calls " the spirit's natural in- stinct of adoration towards a beneficent Father." This was the secret of his independence and of his loyalty to truth. His ideals were lofty, and any departure from the strictest integrity of thought or act appeared to him in the light of treason. With his eye constantly fixed on the realities of life, he de- manded everywhere the most perfect sincerity. Few men have ever had a more cordial contempt for every form of pretence and hypocrisy. He was a keen reader of character, and only true and honest natures were admitted to the sacred intimacy of his friendship. His tastes were almost feminine in their delicacy. He had an exquisite appreciation of the beauties of nature and art. He caught their secret meaning. Retiring and modest in disposition, he loathed the vulgarity of every form of obtrusiveness. He was peculiarly gentle in manner and in spirit ; but it was that noble gentleness born, not of weakness, but of conscious power. His reflective temperament had a predilection for the darker and more mysterious side of life. He fathomed the lowest depths of the soul. As we read his romances and tales, we have a new sense of the meaning and mystery of existence. 2IO AMERICAN LITERATURE. HENR Y WADS WOR TH L ONGFELL O W. LONGFELLOW has gained an enviable place in the affections of the American people ; and in England his works, it is said, have a wider circulation than those of Tennyson. This popu- larity has not been attained by brilliancy of genius. There have been more exquisitely gifted poets, who by no means have held so large a place in public esteem. The highest ge- nius is perhaps excluded from popularity by its very originality. Longfellow, while possessing poetic gifts of a high order, has treated themes of general interest. He has wrought within the range of ordinary thought and sentiment. His life was beautiful in its calm, gradual, healthful devel- opment. It was not unlike the river Charles, of which he sang : " Oft in sadness and in illness, I have watched thy current glide, Till the beauty of its stillness Overflowed me like a tide. And in bitter hours and brighter, When I saw thy waters gleam, I have felt my heart beat lighter, And leap onward with thy stream." His life was itself a poem a type of all that he has writ- ten. It was full of gentleness, courtesy, sincerity, and manly beauty. It was free from eccentricity; it breathed a large sym- pathy; it grounded itself on invisible end eternal realities. The message he brought was sane and helpful. He did not aim at the solution of great problems ; he was not ambitious to fathom the lowest depths. But for half a century he contin- HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. HENR Y W 'ADS IVOR TH L ONGFELL OW. 211 ued to send forth, in simple, harmonious verse, messages of beauty, sympathy, and hope. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow was born in Portland, Me., Feb. 27, 1807. He sprang from a sturdy, honorable New England family, the founder of which came to Massachusetts toward the close of the seventeenth century. His father was a graduate of Harvard, a prominent lawyer in Portland, and at one time a member of Congress. The poet inherited the disposition and manners of his father, who has been described as a man "free from everything offensive to good taste or good feeling." On his mother's side the poet counted in his ances- tral line John Alden and Priscilla Mullen, whom he has immor- talized in "The Courtship of Miles Standish." While his ancestors on both sides were characterized by strong sense and sterling integrity, there was no indication of latent poetic genius. Its sudden appearance in the subject of our sketch is one of those miracles of nature that cannot be fully ex- plained by any law of heredity. During the early years of his life, Portland possessed the charm of beautiful scenery and stirring incident. The city rises by gentle ascent from Casco Bay. Its' principal streets are lined with trees, so that it has been not inaptly called "The Forest City." Back of the town are the stately trees of Deer- ing's Woods. It was a place of considerable commercial im- portance, and foreign vessels and strange-tongued sailors were seen at its wharves. In the War of 1812 defensive works were erected on the shore. In a naval combat off the coast between the British brig Boxer and the United States brig Enterprise, the captains of both vessels lost their lives. The deep impres- sion made by these scenes and associations is reflected in the beautiful poem, " My Lost Youth." Longfellow entered Bowdoin College at the age of fifteen. He was courteous in his bearing, refined in his tastes, and stu- dious in his habits. A classmate, writing of him a half-century later, says, " He was an agreeable companion, kindly and social in his manner, rendering himself dear to his associates 212 AMERICAN LITERATURE. by his disposition and deportment." He held a very high rank in a large and able class. His strong literary bent mani- fested itself early. During his college course he composed a number of poems of marked excellence, a few of which have been given a place in his " Complete Poetical Works." All young writers are apt to be more or less imitative ; and in the poems of this period, especially in those treating of nature, the influence of Bryant is clearly perceptible. He early showed a strong predilection for a literary career. In his eighteenth year he wrote to his father : " The fact is, I most eagerly aspire after future eminence in literature ; my whole soul burns most ardently for it. There may be some- thing visionary in this, but I flatter myself that I have pru- dence enough to keep my enthusiasm from defeating its own object by too great haste. . . . Whether nature has given me any capacity for knowledge or not, she has, at any rate, given me a very strong predilection for literary pursuits ; and I am almost confident in believing that, if I can ever rise in the world, it must be by the exercise of my talent in the wide field of literature." After his graduation in 1825, Longfellow began the study of law in his father's office ; but, like several other American authors, he found his legal books exceedingly tedious. Soon the way was opened for him to enter upon the literary career for which he was eminently fitted by taste and talents. While at college his linguistic ability had attracted attention. Ac- cordingly, when the department of modern languages was established at Bowdoin, he was elected professor, and granted leave of absence for travel and study abroad. He sailed for Europe in 1826, and spent the next three years in France, Ger- many, Italy, Spain, Holland, and England. He studiously familiarized himself with the scenery, customs, language, and literature of those countries. Like Paul Flemming in " Hy- perion," "He worked his way diligently through the ancient poetic lore of Germany, from Frankish legends of St. George and Saxon Rhyme-Chronicles, . . . into the bright, sunny land HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 213 of harvests, where, amid the golden grain and the blue corn- flowers, walk the modern bards, and sing." After his return, he taught five years in his Alma Mater with eminent success. One of the fruits of his stay abroad was a little work in prose entitled " Outre Mer," in which he gave some of the " scenes and musings " of his pilgrimage. It is made up of a series of pleasant sketches in the manner of Irving's " Sketch Book." It was written, as he tells us, when the duties of the day were over, and the world around him was hushed in sleep. "And as I write," he concludes, "the melancholy thought intrudes upon me, To what end is all this toil ? Of what avail these midnight vigils ? Dost thou covet fame ? Vain dreamer ! A few brief days, and what will the busy world know of thee ? Alas ! this little book is but a bubble on the stream ; and, although it may catch the sunshine for a moment, yet it will soon float down the swift-rushing current, and be seen no more ! " In 1831 he married Miss Mary Storer Potter of Portland, a lady of great personal attractions and of exceptional culture. Their married life was brief. She accompanied him on his second visit to Europe, where she died in Rotterdam in No- vember, 1835. She is the " being beauteous " commemorated in the " Footsteps of Angels : " - " With a slow and noiseless footstep Comes the messenger divine, Takes the vacant chair beside me, Lays her gentle hand in mine. And she sits and gazes at me With those deep and tender eyes, Like the stars, so still and saint-like, Looking downward from the skies. Uttered not, yet comprehended, Is the spirit's voiceless prayer, Soft rebukes, in blessings ended, Breathing from her lips of air." 214 AMERICAN LITERATURE. Longfellow's reputation as a teacher and writer was no: confined to Brunswick. He was generally recognized as a rising man; and hence, when the chair of modern languages and literature became vacant at Harvard by the resignation of Professor George Ticknor, he was called to Cambridge. But before entering upon his duties there, he again went abroad, and spent two years in study. In " Hyperion," his second prose work, he gave a poetic diary of his wanderings abroad. Its style is somewhat dainty and artificial, but in excellent keeping with its quaint scholarship. It repeats old legends, translates delightful lyrics, indulges in easy criticism, abounds in graphic descriptions, and admirably reproduces the spirit of German life. Now and then a serious reflection affords us a glimpse into the depths of thought and feeling beneath the facile narrative. The book is still eagerly bought, we are told, at the principal points it commemorates. In' 1836 Longfellow returned to this country, and took up his residence in the Craigie house in Cambridge. Though it already possessed historic interest as at one time Washington's headquarters, it was destined to become still more illustrious as the home of the poet. The beauty of its surroundings ren- dered it no unfit abode for the Muses. With reference to it; former majestic occupant, the poet says: "Once, ah, once within these walls, One whom memory oft recalls, The Father of his Country, dwelt. And yonder meadows broad and damp The fires of the besieging camp Encircled with a burning belt." For seventeen years he faithfully discharged his duties as head of the department of modern languages at Harvard. His position was not a sinecure. Though his lectures were pre- pared with great care, they were seldom written out in full. He cared but little for the soulless, mechanical learning that consists in a knowledge of insignificant details. He wrought HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 21$ with profounder spirit. He introduced his students into the beauty of foreign literature, and awakened a desire for literary study and culture. He became a prominent figure in the remarkable group of Cambridge scholars and writers. His friendships were select and warm. His relations with Felton, Hawthorne, and Sum- ner were particularly close, as may be seen in the series of son- nets entitled "Three Friends of Mine." There is deep pathos in the concluding lines : " But they will come no more, Those friends of mine, whose presence satisfied The thirst and hunger of my heart. Ah me ! They have forgotten the pathway to my door ! Something is gone from nature since they died, And summer is not summer, nor can be." Among his other intimate friends may be mentioned Lowell and Agassiz, both of whom find affectionate remembrance in his poems. In 1839, the year in which "Hyperion" appeared, Long- fellow published a slender volume of poetry entitled "Voices of the Night." For the first time the public was able to form a fair idea of the qualities of the new singer. The key-note of the poems is given in the " Prelude : " " Look, then, into thine heart, and write ! Yes, into Life's deep stream ! All forms of sorrow and delight, All solemn Voices of the Night, That can soothe thee, or affright, Be these henceforth thy theme." The poet struck a sympathetic chord, and several of the poems have since remained popular favorites. Every poem in the collection has a personal interest. "A Psalm of Life," so familiar for two generations, is the voice of courage that came into the poet's heart as he was rallying from the depres- sion of bereavement. "The Reaper and the Flowers," which 2l6 AMERICAN LITERATURE. was the unlabored expression of a long-cherished idea, he wrote, as he tells us, " with peace in his heart, and not without tears in his eyes." The pathetic interest of " Footsteps of Angels " has already been mentioned. Two years later appeared another small volume with the title, " Ballads and Other Poems." It reveals an expansion of the poet's powers. " The Skeleton in Armor " rests upon an interesting historical basis. " The Wreck of the Hesperus " is written in the old ballad style, the spirit of which it success- fully reproduces. After the wreck, for example, "At daybreak, on the bleak sea-beach, A fisherman stood aghast, To see the form of a maiden fair, Lashed close to a drifting mast. The salt sea was frozen on her breast, The salt tears in her eyes ; And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, On the billows fall and rise." In "The Village Blacksmith," we catch the beauty and excellence of a life of humble, faithful labor " Toiling, rejoicing, sorrowing, Onward through life he goes ; Each morning sees some task begin, Each evening sees it close ; Something attempted, -something done, Has earned a night's repose." The little poem, " Excelsior," has a deeper meaning than appears on the surface. The poet's intention, as explained by himself, was " to display, in a series of pictures, the life of a man of genius, resisting all temptations, laying aside all fears, heedless of all warnings, and pressing right on to accomplish his purpose." In these two initial volumes we have the fundamental char- acteristics of Longfellow's verse. His poetry afterwards swept a wide range ; he undertook more ambitious themes, and gained in amplitude of genius. But in its essential features, his po- HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 21 J etry always retained the same qualities. His verse is simple, smooth, melodious, serious. He had learned from German lyrists Heine, Miiller, Uhland the effectiveness of simple measures ; and no other poetic forms would have been suited to his range of thought and emotion. His poetry was but the reflex of the man himself. To use the words of Curtis, " What he was to the stranger reading in distant lands, by ' The long wash of Australasian seas,' that he was to the most intimate of his friends. His life and character were perfectly reflected in his books. There is no purity, or grace, or feeling, or spotless charm in his verse which did not belong to the man." In Europe he steeped himself in mediaeval literature. He familiarized himself with its wonderful legends. He breathed the romantic spirit that had recently brought new life into the literature of Germany, France, and England. Discarding con- ventionality, he strove to be true to nature. With true poetic discernment, he pointed out the beauty and pathos of human life. His poetry does not display erratic brilliancy ; it does not suddenly blaze out in meteoric splendor, and then sink into darkness. It breathes an atmosphere of faith, hope, and cour- age. Longfellow does not indeed rise to the rank of the great- est masters of song. But whatever he has lost in admiration, he has more than gained in the higher tribute of love. The year 1843 * s notable in the poet's life for three things. The first was the publication of "The Spanish Student," a pleasant drama intended for reading rather than acting. Its characters are drawn with sufficient clearness ; and Preciosa, the gypsy dancing-girl, is a charming creation. The play ex- hibits the poet's intimate knowledge of Spanish character and customs, and is full of interesting incident and passionate poetry. The second event was the appearance of his small collection of "Poems on Slavery." He was not an agitator; his modest, retiring nature unfitted him for the tasks of a bold, 2l8 AMERICAN LITERATURE. popular leader. But, during the agitation of the great slavery question, he was not an entirely passive spectator. Through his anti-slavery poems, which set forth strongly the darker side of slavery, he lent the weight of his influence to the friends of emancipation. In the light of subsequent events, the last stanza of "The Warning" seems almost like prophecy: " There is a poor, blind Samson in this land, Shorn of his strength and bound in bonds of steel, Who may, in some grim revel, raise his hand, And shake the pillars of this Commonweal, Till the vast Temple of our liberties A shapeless mass of wreck and rubbish lies." The third event of the year was the poet's marriage to Miss Frances Elizabeth Appleton of Boston, the original of Mary Ashburton in " Hyperion." She was fitted in mind and person to walk at the poet's side; and years afterwards, when sur- rounded by her five children, she was described as a Cornelia in matronly beauty and dignity. In 1845 appeared " Poets and Poetry of Europe," a large volume containing nearly four hundred translations from ten different languages. In its preparation, which occupied him nearly two years, he had the assistance of his friend Professor Felton. In December of the same year he published " The Belfry of Bruges, and Other Poems," in which appears some of his best work. The initial poem and " Nuremberg" are ad- mirable "poems of places." "The Day is Done" has long been a general favorite ; and, excepting the unfortunate simile in the first stanza, it is almost faultless in its simplicity and beauty. " The Arsenal at Springfield " deservedly ranks among the best of his shorter poems. It is quite "warlike against war," and expresses faith in its ultimate banishment from the earth : " Down the dark future, through long generations, The echoing sounds grow fainter, and then cease; And like a bell, w T ith solemn, sweet vibrations, I hear once more the voice of Christ say ' Peace.' ' HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 2IQ Among the other poems of this collection deserving es- pecial notice is " The Old Clock on the Stairs." The old- fashioned country-seat commemorated in the poem was the homestead of Mrs. Longfellow's maternal grandfather, whither the poet went for a short time after his marriage in 1843. Two years later appeared " Evangeline," which Holmes re- gards as our author's masterpiece, a judgment sustained by general opinion. The story Longfellow owed to Hawthorne, to whom he gracefully wrote after the publication and success of the poem : " I thank you for resigning to me that legend of Acady. This success I owe entirely to you, for being willing to forego the pleasure of writing a prose tale which many peo- ple would have taken for poetry, that I might write a poem which many people take for prose." The metre is dactylic hexameter, which has had great difficulty in naturalizing itself in English poetry. Longfellow, who had made previous ex- periments in this measure, did not share the common preju- dice against it. " The English world," he wrote, " is not yet awake to the beauty of that metre." He was, perhaps, encour- aged by the success of Goethe in " Hermann and Dorothea." The result has amply sustained the poet's judgment. The story could hardly have been so delightful in any other meas- ure. He has himself made the test in a single passage. In the second canto of Part Second, the singing of the mocking- bird is described as follows : ' Then from a neighboring thicket the mocking-bird, wildest of singers, Swinging aloft on a willow spray that hung o'er the water, Shook from his little throat such floods of delirious music, That the whole air and the woods and the waves seemed silent to listen. Plaintive at first were the tones, and sad ; then soaring to madness Seemed they to follow or guide the revel of frenzied Bacchantes. Single notes were then heard, in sorrowful, low lamentation ; Till, having gathered them all, he flung them abroad in derision, As when, after a storm, a gust of wind through the tree-tops Shakes down the rattling rain in a crystal shower on the branches." In comparison with this, how tame the following rendering in the common English rhymed pentameter : 22O AMERICAN LITERATURE. " Upon a spray that overhung the stream, The mocking-bird, awaking from his dream, Poured such delirious music from his throat That all the air seemed listening to his note. Plaintive at first the song began, and slow; It breathed of sadness, and of pain and woe; Then, gathering all his notes, abroad he flung The multitudinous music from his tongue, As, after showers, a sudden gust again Upon the leaves shakes down the rattling rain." It is not to be supposed that Longfellow escaped criticism. His success and popularity excited envy, and Poe especially was relentless in his attacks. He labored hard but ineffectu- ally to establish his favorite charge of plagiarism. The trans- cendentalists were scant in their praise. Though Longfellow counted some of their leading representatives among his friends, his poetry shows scarcely a trace of transcendentalism. His simple themes and familiar truths seemed elementary and trivial to the transcendentalists. The editor of the Dial irrev- erently described him as " a dandy Pindar." But the poet en- dured harsh criticism with rare equanimity. He never replied to any criticicism, no matter how unjust or severe. When critiques were sent to him, he read only those which were written in a pleasant spirit. The rest he dropped into the fire; and "in that way," he remarked, "one escapes much annoyance." After the publication of " Evangeline," the poet's muse was less productive for a time ; and he himself lamented that the golden days of October, usually so fruitful in verse, failed to stir him to song. Still, it was not a period of complete inac- tivity. He amused himself in writing the prose tale of " Kav- anagh," which, in spite of Hawthorne's generous praise, has remained the least popular of his works. By 1849 ne accumu- lated sufficient verse for a slender volume, which was published under the title of "The Seaside and the Fireside." Among the sea-pieces, which show the poet's fondness for the ocean, "The Building of the Ship " is most worthy of notice. It is mod- HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 221 elled after Schiller's " Song of the Bell ; " and in its details, as in its general plan, it is admirably conceived and wrought out. " His heart was in his work, and the heart Giveth grace unto every art." Among the fireside pieces, " Resignation " has been read with tears in many a mourning household. It was written after the death of the poet's little daughter Fanny, of whom he noted in his diary: "An inappeasable longing to see her comes over me at times, which I can hardly control." He found con- solation only in the great truth of immortality. " There is no death ! What seems so is transition ; This life of mortal breath Is but a suburb of the life elysian, Whose portal we call death. She is not dead, the child of our affection, But gone unto that school Where she no longer needs our poor protection, And Christ himself doth rule." His numerous works now brought the poet a comfortable income. With increasing devotion to literary work, he found the exacting duties of the class-room irksome. Accordingly, in 1854, he resigned his chair in Harvard College. He was in his intellectual prime, and several of his greatest works were yet to be written. About the time of his resignation the idea of " Hiawatha " occurred to him ; and he wrote in his diary : " I have at length hit upon a plan for a poem on the American Indians, which seems to me the right one and the only. It is to weave together their beautiful traditions into a whole. I have hit upon a measure too, which I think the right and only one for such a theme." The peculiar trochaic metre, with its repetitions and parallelisms, was suggested by the Finnish epic " Kalevala," to which also, in some slight degree, he seems otherwise indebted. The legends of the poem were taken from Schoolcraft. Longfellow worked at the poem with great inter- AMERICAN LITERATURE. est and industry, and finished it in nine months. But, as it approached completion, he was troubled with grave doubts as to the success of his novel venture. Its publication in 1855 created something of a literary sensation. Never before, per- haps, was a poem so criticised, parodied, and ridiculed. When most fiercely assailed, the poet preserved his usual equanimity and silence. "My dear Mr. Longfellow," exclaimed his excited publisher, rushing into the poet's study, " these atrocious libels must be stopped." Longfellow silently glanced over the attacks in question. As he handed the papers back, he inquired, " By the way, Fields, how is ' Hiawatha ' selling ? " " Wonderfully," was the reply; "none of your books has ever had such a sale." " Then," said the poet calmly, " I think we had better let these people go on advertising it." The poem finally established itself as a general favorite a position which it deserves. To remove any doubts, it will be sufficient to read " Hiawatha's Wooing," with its familiar opening lines: " As unto the bow the cord is, So unto the man is woman ; Though she bends him, she obeys him ; Though she draws him, yet she follows ; Useless each without the other." At this period the poet was abundant in labors. Scarcely was one work off the anvil till another was taken up. After the publication of " Hiawatha," the success of which was en- couraging, he turned his attention to a New England colonial theme. " The Courtship of Miles Standish " rests upon a trustworthy tradition. The Pilgrims of Plymouth were less austere than the Puritans of Boston. Their sojourn in Holland had softened somewhat their temper and manners. The poem reproduces the manners of the early colonial times with suffi- cient accuracy. It is less ideal than " Evangeline ; " and its realism renders its hexameters more rugged. The reply of the Puritan maiden Priscilla, as John Alden was pleading the cause of his rival, was not a poetic fiction : HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 223 " But as he warmed and glowed, in his simple and eloquent language, Quite forgetful of self, and full of the praise of his rival, Archly the maiden smiled, and, with eyes overrunning with laughter, Said, in a tremulous voice, ' Why don't you speak for yourself, John ? ' " " The Courtship of Miles Standish " was published in 1858, along with a number of miscellaneous poems, several of which deserve especial mention. " The Ladder of St. Augustine " contains the well-known stanza : "The heights by great men reached and kept Were not attained by sudden flight ; But they, while their companions slept, Were toiling upward in the night." "The Two Angels," a poem of tender pathos, was written, as the poet tells us, " on the birth of my younger daughter, and the death of the young and beautiful wife of my neighbor and friend, the poet Lowell." For the dark problem of life he finds but the one solution of absolute trust in Providence : " Angels of life and death alike are his ; Without his leave they pass no threshold o'er; Who, then, would wish or dare, believing this, Against his messengers to shut the door ? " The poem, " Children," like the later one, " The Children's Hour," reveals to us the poet's tender, sympathetic nature : " For what are all our contrivings, And the wisdom of our books, When compared with your caresses, And the gladness of your looks? Ye are better than all the ballads That ever were sung or said; For ye are living poems, And all the rest are dead." In 1 86 1 an awful calamity befell the poet. His wife was so severely burned, in spite of his efforts to extinguish the 224 AMERICAN- LITERATURE. flames, that she died in a few hours. He was for a time pros trated by the blow. When he began to recover, he sought, like Bryant, relief from his sorrow in the work of translation. Throughout life he found pleasure in turning the thoughts of foreign poets into his native tongue. His various lyrical ver- sions are sufficient to fill a good-sized volume. But he now gave himself to the serious task of turning Dante's " Divina Commedia," of which he had long been a devout student, into English verse. The translation closely follows the original, and is, perhaps, the most satisfactory version of the great Ital- ian in Dur language. The first series of "Tales of a Wayside Inn" was published in 1863, the two succeeding parts appearing in 1872 and 1873. The plan is obviously borrowed from Boccaccio and Chaucer. The Wayside Inn was an old tavern at Sudbury, and the char- acters supposed to be gathered there were all real. The youth " Of quiet ways, A student of old books and days," was Henry Ware Wales, a liberal benefactor of Harvard Col- lege. The young Sicilian was Professor Luigi Monti, an inti- mate friend, who for many years was in the habit of dining with the poet on Sunday. The Spanish Jew was Israel Edrehi, who is described as the poet knew him. The theologian was Professor Daniel Treadwell. The poet was T. W. Parsons, a man of real genius, but of very retiring nature. The musician was Ole Bull. The tales are borrowed from various sources, modern, mediaeval, Talmudic, and many of them possess great merit. " Paul Revere's Ride " is written with rare vigor. Among the other more notable tales are " The Falcon of Ser Federigo," "King Robert of Sicily," " Torquemada," "The Birds of Killingworth," "The Bell of Atri," "The Legend Beautiful," and " Emma and Eginhard." Longfellow early conceived the purpose "to build some tower of song with lofty parapet." In 1841 he noted in his HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 22$ diary : " This evening it has come into my mind to undertake a long and elaborate poem by the holy name of Christ; the theme of which could be the various aspects of Christendom in the Apostolic, Middle, and Modern Ages.' 7 Though the task was long delayed, this lofty purpose was never relin- quished, and through years of thought it slowly assumed definite shape. After nine years he set to work in earnest to compose " The Golden Legend," which was intended to illus- trate Christianity in the Middle Ages. It gives a vivid picture of the manners of the thirteenth century. The story running through " The Golden Legend " is taken from the minnesinger Hartmann von der Aue. The poem was published in 1851, without any intimation of the larger work of which it forms the central part. Nearly a score of years passed before another part of the trilogy of "Christus" appeared. It was properly entitled "The New England Tragedies," and is a sickening record of delu- sion, intolerance, and cruelty. Unfortunately the imagination had but a small share in the work, which is little more than a skilful metrical version of official records. It was published in r868 as an independent work, and was received rather coldly. Considered in its relation to the larger work, it must be judged unfortunate. It is depressing in itself ; it does not represent the spirit of modern Christianity ; and it leaves the trilogy of " Christus " incomplete. " The Divine Tragedy," which was published three years later, in 1871, is a close metrical version of the Gospel history. It presents the successive scenes in the life of Christ in a graphic and interesting way. The effort to adhere as closely as possible to the language of the Gospels has prevented a very high degree of metrical excellence. With the publication of " The Divine Tragedy," the plan of the poet was revealed Though " Christus " will always be read with gentle interest, especially "The Golden Legend," it can hardly rank among his greatest works. Of his other poems, only a few can be mentioned. " The 226 AMERICAN LITERATURE. Hanging of the Crane " is a pathetic picture of the common course of domestic life. " Morituri Salutamus " is an admi- rable poem, written for the fiftieth anniversary of the class of 1825 in Bowdoin College. " Keramos " is a second successful effort in the manner of Schiller's " Song of the Bell." " A Book of Sonnets " shows Longfellow to have been a master in that difficult form of verse. The several small volumes of lyrics published in the later years of his life, while adding little to his fame, showed that the poetic fires within his breast were still burning brightly. Longfellow had now lived beyond the allotted age of man. He had filled out a beautiful, well-rounded life. Both as a man and as a poet he had gained the respect and love of two generations. But at last, with little warning, the end came. On March 15, 1882, he completed his last poem, "The Bells of San Bias," with the words, " Out of the shadows of night The world rolls into light ; It is daybreak everywhere." A little more than a week later, March 24, he passed away. The funeral service, in keeping with his unassuming character, was simple. Only his family and a few intimate friends among them Curtis, Emerson, and Holmes were present ; but two continents were mourning his death. " His gracious presence upon earth Was as a fire upon a hearth ; As pleasant songs, at morning sung, The words that dropped from his sweet tongue Strengthened our hearts, or, heard at night, Made all our slumbers soft and light." JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 22? JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. LOWELL was more than a writer. His writings, numerous and excellent as they are, do not fully represent him. He tried to follow his own precept : " The epic of a man rehearse ; Be something better than thy verse." None of our literary men were great in so many ways. He ranks high as a poet. His critical papers are among the most elaborate and excellent produced in this country. He was a speaker of no mean ability, and a scholar of wide attain- ments. But overshadowing all these literary accomplishments stands his personality, a man of strong intellect, wide sym- pathies, and sterling integrity. He appeared among the earlier singers of the century. Though influenced for a time, as all young writers are apt to be, by favorite authors, Lowell is strikingly original. In his earlier verse we detect an occasional note from Tennyson or Wordsworth ; but his strong intellect soon hewed out a course of its own. His mind was tumultuous with the interests of his day. He rushed to the combat for truth and freedom with abounding zeal. He proclaimed his message in verse distin- guished, not for harmony and grace, but for vehemence and force. He was armed .vith heroic courage : " They are slaves who dare not be In the right with two or three." He believed in bravely doing his part to right existing wrongs ; for 228 AMERICAN LITERATURE. " God hates your sneakin' creturs that believe He'll settle things they run away and leave." Lowell was a New Englander, not only by birth, but by spirit and affection. He was proud of his Puritan ancestry. He loved the landscape of New England and the character of its people. This affection gave him a keen insight into the strength and weakness of New England character, and made him delight in its peculiar dialect : " For puttin' in a downright lick 'Twixt Humbug's eyes, there's few can metch it, And then it helves my thoughts ez slick Ez stret-grained hickory doos a hetchet." Though a broad-minded patriot, he remained throughout life a doughty champion of New England. The Lowell name has an honored place in the history of Massachusetts. Each generation, since the first settlement of the family at Newbury in 1639, has had its distinguished representative. The city of Lowell is named after Francis Cabot Lowell, who was among the first to perceive that the prosperity of New England was to come from its manufactures. John Lowell was an eminent judge, and introduced into the Constitution the section by which slavery was abolished in Massachusetts. John Lowell, Jr., by a bequest of $250,000, founded Lowell Institute in Boston. As a family, the Lowells have been distinguished for practical sense, liberal thought, and earnest character. James Russell Lowell was born in Cambridge, Feb. 22, 1819. His father, as well as his grandfather, was an able and popular minister. The poetic strain in Lowell's character seems to have been inherited from his mother. She was of Scotch descent, had a talent for languages, and was passionately fond of old ballads. Thus Lowell's opening mind was nourished on minstrelsy and romance. He early learned to appreciate what is beautiful in nature and in life. He entered Harvard College in 1835 ; but no part of his JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 22Q lame rests on his record as a student. He had an invincible repugnance to mathematics ; and he read everything else, it has been said, but his text-books. For irregularity in attend- ing morning prayers, he was suspended for a time ; but prayers were then held at sunrise ! His genial nature and recognized ability made him a favorite among his fellow-students. When he graduated, in 1838, he was chosen poet of his class. Then followed the study of law. He opened an office in Boston, but his heart was not in his profession. Various poets By- ron, Shelley, Keats, Coleridge, Tennyson were more to him than his law-books. In his abundant leisure he wrote a story entitled " My First Client," but it is doubtful if he ever got that far in a successful legal career. While waiting for the clients that never came, he found solace in poetry. Love touched his heart, and caused a co- pious fountain of verse to gush forth. In 1841 he published a little volume with the title " A Year's Life." Its motto, bor- rowed from Schiller, gave the key-note to the poetry : " Ich habe gelebt und geliebet" The verse was inspired by Miss Maria White, a refined, beautiful, and sympathetic woman, whom the poet married three years later, and with whom for nearly a decade he lived in almost ideal union. This volume revealed the presence of poetic gifts of a high order. The next step in Lowell's career was to become an editor, a calling in which he subsequently achieved enviable dis- tinction. In company with Robert Carter, he established the Pioneer in 1843. It: was a literary journal of high excellence. Among its contributors were Hawthorne, Poe, Whittier, Story, and Parsons, a galaxy sufficient, one would think, to insure success. But only three numbers appeared. The public of that time was not distinguished for literary culture. The Pio- neer was in advance of its day ; and, after a brief career, it may be said to have died a glorious death. In 1844 appeared a second volume of poems, in which the hand of a master is apparent. He aims to rise above the empty rhymer, 230 AMERICAN LITERATURE. " Who lies with idle elbow on the grass, And fits his singing, like a cunning timer, To all men's prides and fancies as they pass." He sings of love, truth, patriotism, humanity, religion, cour- age, hope great themes which his large soul expands to meet. His verse may be at times exuberant and rhetorical, but it em- bodies virile power of thought and emotion. The fundamental principles, not only of all his poetry, but of his character, are found in this volume. In " An Incident in a Railroad Car " we see his sense of human worth, regardless of the accidents of fortune : "All that hath been majestical In life or death, since time began, Is native in the simple heart of all, The angel heart of man. And thus, among the untaught poor, Great deeds and feelings find a home, That cast in shadow all the golden lore Of classic Greece and Rome." He had unwavering confidence in the indestructible power of truth. In "A Glance Behind the Curtain," he says: " Get but the truth once uttered, and 'tis like A star new-born, that drops into its place, And which, once circling in its placid round, Not all the tumult of the earth can shake." A well-known passage in " The Present Crisis " reveals his faith in the watchful care of God : " Careless seems the great Avenger ; history's pages but record One death-grapple in the darkness 'twixt old systems and the Word; Truth forever on the scaffold, Wrong forever on the throne, Yet that scaffold sways the future, and, behind the dim unknown, Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own." His love of human freedom is revealed in the poem " On the Capture of Fugitive Slaves near Washington " : JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 231 u He's true to God who's true to man; wherever wrong is done, To the humblest and the weakest, 'neath the all-beholding sun, That wrong is also done to us ; and they are slaves most base, Whose love of right is for themselves, and not for all their race." These are all characteristic themes ; and because they came from the poet's heart, we find in subsequent poems the same truths presented again and again in richly varied language. With his strong, positive nature, it was natural for Lowell to take part in the slavery agitation of the time. When it cost him unpopularity, he had the courage of his convictions. He acted as he wrote : " Then to side with Truth is noble when we share her wretched crust, Ere her cause bring fame and profit, and 'tis prosperous to be just." The first series of " The Biglow Papers " belongs to the period of the Mexican W T ar ; the second series, to the period of the Civil War. In these poems, written in what he calls the Yankee dialect, Lowell gives free rein to all his resources of argument, satire, and wit. He hits hard blows. A forcible truth is sometimes clothed in homely language : " Laborin' man an' laborin' woman Hev one glory an' one shame. Ev'y thin' that's done inhuman Injers all on 'em the same." The "pious editor," who reverences Uncle Sam, "partic'- larly his pockets," confesses his creed : " I du believe in prayer an' praise To him that hez the grantin' O' jobs, in every thin' thet pays, But most of all in CANTIN' ; This doth my cup with marcies fill, This lays all thought o' sin to rest, I don't believe in princerple, But O, I du in interest." 232 AMERICAN LITERATURE. The little poem " What Mr. Robinson Thinks " was a pal pable hit, with its refrain : "But John P. Robinson he Sez he wunt vote for Guvener B." These lines took hold of the public fancy, and were re- peated in season and out of season. It is said that Mr. Rob- inson, who was a worthy man, went abroad to get away from the sound of his own name. But on going to his hotel in Liverpool, the first thing he heard was a childish voice re- peating : "But John P. Robinson he." " The Biglow Papers " deservedly ranks as our best politi- cal satire. In 1848 appeared "The Vision of Sir Launfal," which must always remain his most popular work. It is a treatment of the old legend of the Holy Grail ; and, excepting Tennyson's idyl, nothing more worthy of the theme has ever been written. The poem was written at white-heat. It was composed sub- stantially in its present form in forty-eight hours, during which the poet scarcely ate or slept. We find in it a full expression of his poetic powers, his energetic thought, his deep emotion, his vigorous imagination. In the preludes the poet's love of nature is apparent, as well as the strong moral feeling that formed the substratum of his character. What lines are oftener quoted than these : "And what is so rare as a day in June? Then, if .ever, come perfect days." And the following verses contain a vigorous bit of moral- izing : JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 233 " For a cap and bells our lives we pay, Bubbles we buy with a whole soul's tasking 'Tis heaven alone that is given away, 'Tis only God may be had for the asking." The same year appeared " A Fable for Critics," a literary satire without the savagery of Byron's " English Bards and Scotch Reviewers," or the malignancy of Pope's " Dunciad." It is a humorous review of the leading American authors of the day; but beneath the fun there is a sober judgment that rarely erred in its estimates. Along with atrocious rhymes and barbarous puns, there are many felicitous characteriza- tions. He calls Bryant, to whom he was scarcely just, an iceberg : " If he stir you at all, it is just, on my soul, Like being stirred up with the very North Pole." He hits off Poe as follows : " There comes Poe, with his raven, like Barnaby Rudge, Three-fifths of him genius, and two-fifths sheer fudge." He was quite as severe to himself as to any of his contem- poraries; and, as will be seen from the following lines, he was not blind to his own peculiarities : " There is Lowell, who's striving Parnassus to climb With a whole bale of isms tied together with rime ; He might get on alone, spite of brambles and boulders, But he can't with that bundle he has on his shoulders; The top of the hill he will ne'er come nigh reaching, Till he learns the distinction 'twixt singing and preaching; 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 last New Jerusalem." The poem is loose in construction and unsymmetrical in form, and it is to be regretted that the poet never thought it worth while to bring it into artistic shape. It was first pub- 234 AMERICAN LITERATURE. lished anonymously, but its authorship was soon fixed. Lowell was the only man in America who could have written it. A larger career was now opening before him. Up to the time of her death, in 1853, his wife, in their beautiful home at Elmwood, had stimulated him to high endeavor. Always fond of reading, and blessed with a capacious memory, he had ac- quired a wide range of knowledge. In the winter of 1854-55, he delivered before the Lowell Institute a course of twelve lectures on the British poets. Disdaining the arts of the popu- lar orator, he placed his reliance for success, where alone it can permanently rest, on genuine merit. He read his lectures in an earnest, manly way ; and their learning, thought, critical insight, and poetic feeling gave to every discourse an inde- scribable charm. In 1855, on the resignation of Longfellow, he was appointed professor of modern languages at Harvard, with a leave of ab- sence for two years, to study abroad. He resided chiefly at Dresden, and gave himself to a methodical course of reading in European literature. Like all men of large mould, he had an immense capacity for assimilation. When he returned to America in 1857, and entered upon his duties, he was not un- worthy to occupy the chair of his illustrious predecessor. He was an admirable lecturer; and while his ability commanded the respect, his ready kindness won the affection, of the students, Harvard has never had, perhaps, a more popular professor. The year 1857 witnessed two important events in the life of Lowell. The first was his marriage to Miss Frances Dunlop of Portland, Me., who h d superintended the education of his daughter during his absence abroad. The second was the estab- lishment of the Atlantic, of which he became editor-in-chief. His contributions were in both prose and poetry, and were, it is needless to say, of a high order. He continued as editor till 1862, when he was succeeded by Mr. Fields. But his editorial career was not yet ended. In 1864 he took charge of the North American Review, of which he remained editor till 1873. He was particularly kind to young writers, and lost no opportunity to speak a word of encouragement. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. In 1864 he published a volume in prose, entitled "Fireside Travels," containing "Cambridge Thirty Years Ago," "A Moosehead Journal/' and "Leaves from My. Journal in Italy and Elsewhere." It is a delightful book, full of wit, wisdom, and exuberant fancy. The tide of a full, strong life is reflected in its pages. Here is a characteristic bit of description: "The chief feature of the place was its inns, of which there were five, with vast barns and courtyards, which the railroad was to make as silent and deserted as the palaces of Nimroud. Great white- topped wagons, each drawn by double files of six or eight horses, with its dusty bucket swinging from the hinder axle, and its grim bull-dog trotting silent underneath, or in midsum- mer panting on the lofty perch beside the driver (how elevated thither baffied conjecture), brought all the wares and products of the country to their mart and seaport in Boston. These filled the inn-yards, or were ranged side by side under broad-roofed sheds; and far into the night the mirth of their lusty drivers clamored from the red-curtained bar-room, while the single lantern, swaying to and fro in the black cavern of the stables, made a Rembrandt of the group of ostlers and horses below." "Under the Willows," a volume of poems published in 1869, exhibits Lowell's poetic genius at the zenith of its power. It is less luxuriant in manner, and its chaster form adds force to its wisdom and pathos. There is scarcely a poem that is not remarkable for some beauty. Sometimes it is a tender recol- lection of the past; again it is some weighty truth or telling apologue; or it is a bit of irresistible pathos or prophetic asser- tion of divine truth. The poems were composed at intervals through many years, according to his usual method : " Now, I've a notion, if a poet Beat up for themes, his verse will show it ; I wait for subjects that hunt me, By day or night won't let me be, And hang about me like a curse, Till they have made me into verse." In "The First Snow- Fall" there is a fine touch of pathos: 236 AMERICAN LITERATURE, " Then, with eyes that saw not, I kissed her And she, kissing back, could not know That my kiss was given to her sister, Folded close under deepening snow." The following triplet, from " For an Autograph," is a noble summons to lofty purpose : " Greatly begin ! though thou have time But for a line, be that sublime, Not failure, but low aim, is crime." "Mahmood the Image-Breaker" teaches the incomparable worth of human integrity: " Little were a change of station, loss of life or crown, But the wreck were past retrieving, if the Man fell down." The Commemoration Odes of Lowell are the best of their kind written in this country. Perhaps they have never been surpassed. He seized upon special occasions to pour forth a rich strain of patriotic reflection, eloquent thought, and poetic feeling and imagery. The "Ode Recited at the Harvard Com- memoration," in memory of the ninety-three graduates who had died in the Civil War, appealed most strongly to the poet's heart. Among those who had lost their lives were eight rela- tives of the poet. As he recited the poem, it is said that his face, always expressive, was almost transfigured with the glow of an inward light. Its exalted key is struck in the opening lines : " Weak-winged is song, Nor aims at that clear-ethered height Whither the brave deed climbs for light : We seem to do them wrong, Bringing our robin's leaf to deck their hearse Who in warm life-blood wrote their nobler verse.' The " Ode " read at the one hundredth anniversary of the fight at Concord bridge is an eloquent paean of freedom. It pays a glowing tribute to " the embattled farmers : " JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 237 " They were men Schooled the soul's inward gospel to obey, Though leading to the lion's den." "Under the Old Elm," read at Cambridge on the hundredth anniversary of Washington's taking command of the American army, eloquently commemorates the character and achieve- ments of the " Father of his Country : " " Out of that scabbard sprang, as from its womb, Nebulous at first but hardening to a star, Through mutual share of sunburst and of gloom, The common faith that made us what we are." " The Cathedral " is Lowell's longest poem. Somewhat uneven in its merits, it contains many noble passages. It might be made to illustrate nearly every prominent point in the poet's character. As compared with his earlier writings, it reveals the presence of a slightly conservative tendency. The leading incidents of the poem are connected with a visit to the cathedral of Chartres. He was filled with admiration at the consecrated spirit of a former age that sought expres- sion in such a miracle of stone : " I gazed abashed, Child of an age that lectures, not creates, Plastering our swallow-nests on the awful Past, And twittering round the work of larger men, As we had builded what we but deface." His 'deep religious nature is evident throughout the poem, though his creed is larger than that of his Puritan ancestors. Softened by the touch of an all-embracing sympathy and char- ity, he finds that " God is in all that liberates and lifts, In all that humbles, sweetens, and consoles." In " The Cathedral " we have a striking instance of the wilful caprice with which his muse sometimes startles us. At 238 AMERICAN- LITERATURE. the hotel in Chartres he met two Englishmen who mistook him for a Frenchman. " My beard translated me to hostile French ; So they, desiring guidance in the town, Half condescended to my baser sphere, And, clubbing in one mess their lack of phrase, Set their best man to grapple with the Gaul. ' Esker vous ate a nabitang ? ' he asked : 'I never ate one; are they good?' asked I; Whereat they stared, then laughed, and we were friends." Considered in the most favorable light, the poet's wit on this occasion can hardly be said to display particular bril- liancy ; and to introduce the incident into a grave and ele- vated poem is a bit of freakishness that makes " the judicious grieve." Of Lowell's prose writings, there is not space to speak in detail. The three volumes entitled " My Study Windows " and " Among My Books " (two volumes) are made up of es- says. " My Study Windows " is of greatest general interest. It opens with three delightful papers entitled " My Garden Acquaintance," " A Good Word for Winter," and " On a Cer- tain Condescension in Foreigners." In these the keen wit, kindly humor, and shrewd observation of Lowell appear at their best. Of his various garden acquaintance, to give a single quotation, he says : " If they will not come near enough to me (as most of them will), I bring them close with an opera- glass, a much better weapon than a gun. I would not, if I could, convert them from their pretty pagan ways. The only one I sometimes have savage doubts about is the red squirrel. I think he oologizes. I know he eats cherries (we counted five of them at one time in a single tree, the stones pattering down like the sparse hail that preludes a storm), and that he gnaws off the small ends of pears to get at the seeds. He steals the corn from under the noses of my poultry. But what would you have ? He will come down upon the limb of the tree I JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL, 239 am lying under till he is within a yard of me. He and his mate will scurry up and down the great black walnut for my diversion, chattering like monkeys. Can I sign his death- warrant who has tolerated me about his grounds so long? Not I. Let them steal, and welcome. I am sure I should, had I had the same bringing up and the same temptation. As for the birds, I do not believe there is one of them but does more good than harm ; and of how many featherless bipeds can this be said ? " Lowell occupies a foremost place among American critics. For the critic's office he was eminently qualified, both by natural gifts and broad scholarship. The two volumes of " Among My Books " are devoted chiefly to elaborate studies of " Dryden," "Shakespeare Once More," "Dante," "Spenser," "Words- worth," " Milton," and " Keats." In each case a wide range of reading is made to contribute its treasures. The essays, supplied with numerous foot-notes, are learned to a degree that is almost oppressive. Lowell displays a deep insight and great soundness of judgment. His style is rich in allusion. At times it is epigrammatic ; and again it is not unlike his own description of Milton's style. " Milton's manner," he says, " is very grand. It is slow, it is stately, moving as in triumphal procession, with music, with historic banners, with spoils from every time and region ; and captive epithets, like huge Si- cambrians, thrust their broad shoulders between us and the pomp they decorate." Now and then his humor lights up a sentence or paragraph in the most unexpected way. As a few other of our literary men, Lowell was appointed to represent this country abroad. His diplomatic career de- tracts nothing from his reputation. He was appointed minister to Spain in 1877, ar| d three years later minister to England. Without any occasion to display great diplomatic gifts, he filled his post faithfully, and fostered international good feeling. In the social and literary circles of England his culture and genius gained for him a proud distinction. Lowell was frequently called on for addresses. Among his 240 AMERICAN LITERATURE. works is a volume entitled " Democracy and Other Addresses. He was not an orator so much as a refined and scholarly speaker. He spoke in an earnest, conversational tone, depend- ing upon the weight of his utterance to secure the attention and interest of his hearers. He made no use of gesture. He did not soar to the heights of impassioned utterance, of which we must believe him to have been capable. He did not move a great popular assembly, but to the scholarly and cultivated he was a delightful speaker. Lowell lived beyond the allotted age of three score and ten. His latter years were sweetened by the tribute of honor and love which a great people united in paying him. He died Aug. 12, 1891, recognized at home and abroad as a man of high gifts and noble character. He is, perhaps, our best repre- sentative man of letters. An English critic has fairly expressed the feeling abroad: "No poetic note higher or deeper than his, no aspirations more firmly touched towards lofty issues, no voice more powerful for truth and freedom, have hitherto come to us from across the Atlantic." JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. JOHN GREENLEAF WH1TTIER. 241 JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. WHITTIER has been called the Burns of New P^ngland ; and that title is not without justification. He owed the first awa- kening of his poetic talent to the Scottish bard ; and, like him, he has cast a glory over the homely scenes of his native region. In the choice of his themes he is less a national than a sectional poet. Less cosmopolitan than Longfellow and Lowell, he is pre-eminently the poet of New England. It is the spirit, the legend, and the landscape of New England that are reflected in his verse. John Greenleaf Whittier sprang from Quaker ancestry, and the memory of the wrongs inflicted upon his sect at an earlier day never left him. He was born near the town of Haverhill, Mass., Dec. 17, 1807. The house was an old one, surrounded by fields and woods ; and in front of it, to use the poet's words, a brook "foamed, rippled, and laughed." The Merri- mac River was not far away. He helped to till an unfriendly soil, and in his leisure hours he wandered over the hills or loitered along the streams. Like Franklin, Whittier was a self-made man. His early education was limited to brief terms in the district school. He was fond of reading, but his father's library contained only a score of tedious volumes. For a number of years the Bible was his principal resource for history, poetry, and eloquence ; and encouraged and aided by his mother, he made its literary and religious treasures a permanent possession. In spite of the meagre advantages of his frugal home, as compared with our present opulence of books and papers, he had the wealth of exuberant Itfe and observant eyes. Nature became his inspiring teacher. In "The Barefoot Boy," with its childhood memories, he says: 242 AMERICAN LITERATURE. " I was rich in flowers and trees, Humming-birds and honey-bees ; For my sport the squirrel played, Plied the snouted mole his spade ; For my 'taste the blackberry cone Purpled over hedge and stone ; Laughed the brook for my delight Through the day and through the night." The monotony of the hospitable farmhouse was relieved now and then by the visits of peddlers. Strolling people were looked on more indulgently then than now. When Whittier was fourteen years old his first schoolmaster brought to the Quaker home a volume of Burns, from which he read, to the boy's great delight. It kindled the poetic fire within. " I begged him to leave the book with me," the poet said years afterwards, "and set myself at once to the task of mastering the glossary of the Scottish dialect at its close. This was about the first poetry I had ever read (with the exception of that of the Bible, of which I had been a close student), and it had a lasting influence upon me. I began to make rhymes myself, and to imagine stories and adventures/' In 1826 Whittier made the acquaintance of William Lloyd Garrison, who exerted no small influence upon his subsequent career. Garrison had established the Free Press at Newbury- port. A poem contributed by young Whittier so impressed him with its indications of genius that he visited the Quaker lad in his home, and warmly urged a cultivation of his talents. The visit was not fruitless. The gifted youth resolved to ob- tain a better education; and to acquire the necessary means, which his father was not able to supply, he learned the art of shoemaking. In 1827 he entered the Academy in Haverhill, and by his genial nature and his literary ability quickly attained a position of distinction. After two terms at the Academy and a brief interval of teaching, he served an apprenticeship to the literary craft by editing or contributing to several newspapers. His writings, JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER, 243 both in prose and in poetry, attracted attention. Without the breadth of culture enjoyed by some contemporary writers who afterward became famous, he came to be regarded as a young man of great promise. " The culmination of that man's fame," the New England Review declared in 1829, "will be a proud period in the history of our literature." A wider field soon opened before him. In 1830 George D. Prentice gave up the editorial management of the New Eng- land Weekly Review of Hartford, and Whittier was called to succeed him. For a year and a half he edited the paper with ability and success. He avoided the coarse personalities which at that time disgraced American journalism. He was a strong advocate of temperance, freedom, and religion. A resolute heart beat under his quiet manner and sober Quaker dress. He published in the Review no fewer than forty-two poems, most of which he afterwards suppressed. But among those retained in his collected works are "The Frost Spirit," "The Cities of the Plain," and "The Vaudois Teacher." In 1832, on account of ill-health, Whittier severed his connection with the Review. He took an earnest and active part in the anti-slavery movement. He surrendered his literary ambition to what he believed the call of duty. He displayed the self-sacrificing heroism of a sincere reformer. In his own words: " From youthful hopes, from each green spot Of young Romance and gentle Thought, Where storm and tumult enter not, From each fair altar, where belong The offerings Love requires of Song In homage to her bright-eyed throng, With soul and strength, with heart and hand, I turned to Freedom's struggling band, To the sad Helots of our land." In 1833 he published a strong pamphlet against slavery, entitled "Justice and Expediency; or, Slavery considered with 244 AMERICAN LITERATURE. a view to its Rightful and Effectual Remedy, Abolition." It was printed and circulated at his own expense, costing him a considerable part of his year's earnings. In his anti-slavery agitation he more than once encountered mob violence in Massachusetts and New Hampshire. In 1837 he went to Philadelphia to write for the Pennsylvania Freeman, of which he became editor a few months later. It was issued from Pennsylvania Hall, a large building erected by the anti- slavery people of the city. The building was subsequently sacked and burned by a mob. But in spite of his loss, Whit- tier continued to issue his paper regularly, until he was forced to give up the enterprise by failing health. It was out of his own experience that he wrote in " The Preacher " : " Never in custom's oiled grooves The world to a higher level moves, But grates and grinds with friction hard On granite boulder and flinty shard." Unlike his friend Garrison, Whittier favored political action. He wished to re-enforce moral suasion with the ballot He stoutly supported the several political organizations known suc- cessively as the Liberty party, Free-Soil party, and Republican party, which were opposed to slavery. During all these years of agitation, he took advantage of every occasion to send forth impassioned anti-slavery verse. In 1849 these poems were collected into a volume entitled "Voices of Freedom." Their vehemence, as in "Stanzas," "Clerical Oppressors," "The Pastoral Letter," and "The Branded Hand," almost reaches fierceness. Though Longfellow and Lowell wrote no- table anti-slavery poems, Whittier may justly be considered the laureate of the abolition movement. While engaged in the anti-slavery movement, Whittier did not wholly give up his purely literary work. The family resi- dence had been changed to Amesbury, and he depended on his pen for support. He was a valued contributor to several periodicals, among which were the New England Magazine and JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 24$ the Democratic Review. In these some of his best work ap- peared. " Mogg Megone " and "The Bridal of Pennacook" are Indian tales, chiefly noteworthy for their vivid description of New England scenery. Of the former Whittier did not have a high opinion, and sarcastically described it as " a big Injun strutting about in Walter Scott's plaid," which is not far from the truth. " Cassandra Southwick " is a justly admired ballad founded on the persecution of the Quakers in Massa- chusetts. Whittier was intensely democratic in his feelings. He did not believe in the divine right of any class to lord it over their fellow-men. Through all the disguises of toil, poverty, and sin, he recognized the innate worth and natural rights of man. In the poem " Democracy " he says : " By misery unrepelled, unawed By pomp or power, thou seest a MAN In prince or peasant, slave or lord, Pale priest, or swarthy artisan. Through all disguise, form, place, or name, Beneath the flaunting robes of sin, Through poverty and squalid shame, Thou lookest on the man within. On man, as man, retaining yet, Howe'er debased, and soiled, and dim, The crown upon his forehead set, The immortal gift of God .to him." In harmony with this broad human sympathy, he wrote a series of poems, unsurpassed of their kind, to which he gave the name of " Songs of Labor." They are intended to show, " The unsung beauty hid life's common things below." In these songs the labors of "The Shipbuilders," "The Shoemakers," "The Drovers," "The Fishermen," "The Husk- ers," and " The Lumbermen," pass before us in idealized form. Whittier was never married. But little of his poetry is in 246 AMERICAN LITERATURE. spired by love, the master motive of song. Yet there are indi- cations, unmistakable and tender, that his life was not without its romance. The little poem " In School Days " is too nat- ural and too charming to have been fiction : " He saw her lift her eyes ; he felt The soft hand's light caressing, And heard the tremble of her voice, As if a fault confessing: ' I'm sorry that I spelt the word ; I hate to go above you, Because " the brown eyes lower fell, ' Because, you see, I love you.' " And in " Memories " we have a fond picture of a later day : " I hear again thy low replies, I feel thine arm within my own, And timidly again uprise The fringed lids of hazel eyes, With soft brown tresses overflown. Ah, memories of sweet summer eves, Of moonlit wave and willowy way, Of stars and flowers, and dew T y leaves, And smiles and tones more dear than they." Whittier does not belong to the bards of doubt. Like most of the strong singers of the present century, he recog- nized the divine presence as existent and operative in all things. His verse is filled with the cheer of hope and cour- age. In " The Reformer " he says : " But life shall on and upward go ; Th' eternal step of Progress beats To that great anthem, calm and slow, Which God repeats. Take heart! the Waster builds again, A charmed life old Goodness hath ; The tares may perish, but the grain Is not for death. JOHN GREENLEAF WHITT1ER. 347 God works in all things ; all obey His first propulsion from the night : Wake thou and watch ! the world is gray With- morning light." It was this faith that sustained him in the midst of detrac- tion, violence, and loss. In " Barclay of Ury," he exclaims : " Happy he whose inward ear Angel comfortings can hear O'er the rabble's laughter; And while Hatred's fagots burn, Glimpses through the smoke discern Of the good hereafter." For a dozen years Whittier was a regular contributor to the National Era, an organ of the anti-slavery party established in 1847. I n tn i s paper appeared some of his most character- istic work, both in poetry and prose. His muse had gained in breadth of thought and sentiment. It was at this time he wrote : " I love the old melodious lays Which softly melt the ages through, The songs of Spenser's golden days, Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase, Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew." Among the eighty poems contributed to the National Era, some of those needing special mention are " Tauler," " Burns," " Kathleen," " Stanzas for the Times," " Trust," " A Sabbath Scene," " Calef in Boston," "The Last Walk in Autumn," " Ichabod," and " Maud Muller." They reach the higher levels of song, and give gemlike expression to some noble thought or sentiment. "Ichabod," meaning, as Bible readers will re- member, " the glory hath departed," is a dirge over Webster for the compromising spirit shown by him in a speech in 1850. It is full of suppressed power. " The Last Walk in Autumn " is a beautiful study of New England landscape. It abounds in noble thought, and contains 248 AMERICAN LITERATURE. life-like portraits of Emerson, Bayard Taylor, and Sumner. At times, as the poet tells us, he longs for gentler skies and softer air ; but after all he prefers the vigor of a colder clime : " Better to stem with heart and hand The roaring tide of life, than lie, Unmindful, on its flowery strand, Of God's occasions drifting by 1 Better with naked nerve to bear The needles of this goading air, Than, in the lap of sensual ease, forego The godlike power to do, the godlike aim to know." Among the prose contributions to the National Era was a series of biographical studies, " Bunyan," " Andrew Marvell," " Richard Baxter," and others, entitled " Old Portraits," and " Margaret Smith's Journal in the Province of Massachusetts Bay, 1678-9." The latter is a kind of historical novel, written in the antique style belonging to the period it describes. It introduces the leading characters and incidents of the time, and reproduces the old colonial life in a very realistic way. In 1860 appeared a volume of " Home Ballads, Poems, and Lyrics," which contains a number of notable pieces. " Skipper Ireson's Ride," with its refrain and pathetic conclusion, is well known : " So with soft relentings and rude excuse, Half scorn, half pity, they cut him loose, And gave him a cloak to hide him in, And left him alone with his shame and sin. Poor Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart, Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart By the women of Marblehead." In " The Shadow and the Light " the poet seeks an answer to the immemorial problem of evil : " O, why and whither ? God knows all ; I only know that he is good, And that whatever may befall Or here or there, must be the best that could. JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 249 For he is merciful as just ; And so, by faith correcting sight, I bow before his will, and trust Howe'er they seem he doeth all things right." In " Times/' written for an agricultural and horticultural exhibition, the beauty and blessedness of labor are finely presented : " Give fools their gold, and knaves their power ; Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall ; Who sows a field, or trains a flower, Or plants a tree, is more than all. For he who blesses most is blest ; And God and man shall own his worth Who toils to leave as his bequest An added beauty to the earth." The Civil War was repugnant to Whittier's Quaker prin- ciples. He looked on war as murder ; and his preference was to let the South secede, and work -out her destiny as a slave- holding country. But he was not an indifferent spectator when once the issue was joined. The collection of songs, " In War Time," is pervaded by a sad yet trustful spirit : " The future's gain Is certain as God's truth ; but, meanwhile, pain Is bitter, and tears are salt ; our voices take A sober tone ; our very household songs Are heavy with a nation's griefs and wrongs ; And innocent mirth is chastened for the sake Of the brave hearts that nevermore shall beat, The eyes that smile no more, the unreturning feet.' He rejoiced at the freedom that at last came to the negro : " Not as we hoped ; but what are we ? Above our broken dreams and plans God lays, with wiser hand than man's, The corner-stones of liberty." 250 AMERICAN LITERATURE. The best known of his war poems is " Barbara Frietchie," which vividly describes an incident that never happened. After the termination of the war, Whittier favored a magnani- mous policy toward the South, and desired that there might be " no unnecessary hangings to gratify an evil desire of revenge." " Snow-Bound," a winter idyl, is an exquisite description of country life in New England two generations ago. It por- trays the early home of the poet, showing us its modest inte- rior, and giving us portraits of its various inmates. After the boding storm had buried every object beneath the snow : " A prompt, decisive man, no breath Our father wasted ; ' Boys, a path 1 ' " At night the spacious fireplace was heaped with wood ; " Then, hovering near, We watched the first red blaze appear, Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam On whitewashed wall and sagging beam, Until the old, rude-furnished room Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom." Whittier's mother was a woman of good sense, native re- finement, and benign face. Here is her portrait : " Our mother, while she turned her wheel, Or run the new-knit stocking-heel, Told how the Indian hordes came down At midnight on Cocheco town, And how her own great-uncle bore His cruel scalp-mark to fourscore. Recalling, in her fitting phrase, So rich and picturesque and free (The common unrhymed poetry Of simple life and country ways), The story of her early days, She made us welcome to her home." Another inmate is thus sketched : JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 251 " Our uncle, innocent of books, Was rich in lore of fields and brooks. In moons and tides and weather wise, He read the clouds as prophecies, And foul or fair could well divine, By many an occult hint and sign, Holding the cunning-warded keys To all the woodcraft mysteries." The maiden aunt is tenderly drawn : " The sweetest woman ever Fate Perverse denied a household mate, Who, lonely, homeless, not the less Found peace in love's unselfishness." Of his sister Mary the poet says : " There, too, our elder sister plied Her evening task the stand beside; A full, rich nature, free to trust, Truthful and almost sternly just, Impulsive, earnest, prompt to act, And make her generous thought a fact, Keeping with many a light disguise The secret of self-sacrifice." Of his sister Elizabeth, a noble woman of poetic gifts, he thus speaks : " As one who held herself a part Of all she saw, and let her heart Against the household bosom lean, Upon the motley-braided mat Our youngest and our dearest sat, Lifting her large, sweet, asking eyes." Of other portraits and scenes in this admirable poem, which deserves to rank with " The Deserted Village " and " The Cotter's Saturday Night," there is not space to speak, 252 AMERICAN LITERATURE " The Tent on the Beach," published in 1867, somewhat re- sembles Longfellow's "Tales of a Wayside Inn," or Chaucer's " Canterbury Tales," in its structure. The poet and his two friends, Bayard Taylor and James T. Fields, encamping on the seashore, enliven their sojourn with tales of the olden time. The portraits of the party are skilfully drawn ; but most inter- esting of all is the poet's sketch of himself : " And one there was, a dreamer born, Who, with a mission to fulfil, Had left the Muses' haunts to turn The crank of an opinion mill, Making his rustic reed of song A weapon in the war with wrong, Yoking his fancy to the breaking-plough That beam-deep turned the soil for truth to spring and grow." Of the nine stories related in "The Tent on the Beach," all but two refer to New England themes. Though troubled with increasing infirmity, especially with deafness, Whittier wore old age gracefully. He continued to write to the last. Many of his later poems are pervaded by a deep religious spirit. Several of them possess an autobio- graphic interest, as expressly setting forth the poet's views of God and immortality. A profound faith took away his dread of death ; and in "The Eternal Goodness " he says : " And so beside the Silent Sea I wait the muffled oar ; No harm from Him can come to me On ocean or on shore. I know not where His islands lift Their fronded palms in air ; I only know I cannot drift Beyond His love and care." A similar trust finds expression in " My Birthday." It is repeated in the pathetic lines "What the Traveler Said at Sunset " ; JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 2$$ " The shadows grow and deepen round me, I feel the dew-fall in the air ; The muezzin of the darkening thicket I hear the night-thrush call to prayer. I go to find my lost and mourned for Safe in Thy sheltering goodness still, And all that hope and faith foreshadow Made perfect in Thy holy will." The leading characteristics of Whittier's poetry may be recognized in what has already been presented. We miss, for the most part, a classic finish of style. His verse is vital rather than statuesque. Sometimes we meet with false accents and faulty rhymes. He does not treat of the great questions started by modern research, nor undertake to solve existing social problems. From the start he takes his stand in the re- gion of faith, which finds a solution of all problems in the love of God. He loved nature ; and while his observation was confined chiefly to a part of New England, he has given us landscape pictures of almost matchless beauty. One of the charms of his verse comes from its sincerity. He was no mere artist in verse, seeking themes with prosaic calculation, and then polishing them into a cold, artificial lustre. With him poetry was not so much an end as a means. He used it as his principal weapon in his battle against wrong. He made it the medium of passionate truth. His verse has a vitality that brings it home to the hearts of men, inspiring them with new strength, courage, and hope. Modest to a marked degree, Whittier did not fully appre- ciate the grandeur of his life nor the worth of his verse. He had the true dignity of a noble nature. While scorning noto- riety, he valued genuine sympathy. The loving spirit of his verse was exemplified in his daily life. He was sympathetic and helpful. His friendships were constant and beautiful. In social life he had a kindly humor that rarely found a place in his earnest verse. His genius was not eccentric. He was 2 $4 AMERICAN LITERATURE. a man of conviction, of purpose, of courage. He preferred a life of earnest struggle to a life of ignoble ease, a sentiment to which he gave expression in the beautiful autobiographic poem " My Birthday " : " Better than self-indulgent years The outflung heart of youth, Than pleasant songs in idle years The tumult of the truth." His last years, as was fitting, were serene. After many stormy years, he had at last won an honored place in the literature of our country, and, what is better, in the hearts of our people. The wisest and best delighted to do him honor. His home at Danvers, Mass., became a place of pilgrimage. After reaching a ripe old age, he passed away Sept. 7, 1892. In the slightly altered words of Longfellow, addressed to the " Hermit of Amesbury " on his seventieth birthday : " Thou too hast heard Voices and melodies from beyond the gates, And spoken only when thy soul was stirred." OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 255 OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. HOLMES was the latest survivor of the remarkable group of writers who may be said to have created American litera- ture. He was not the greatest of the group ; but there is scarcely any other whose works are more widely read. Under the present stress of life in America, there are very many per- sons who would rather be amused than instructed. When an author succeeds in both amusing and instructing, he has a double claim upon the grateful affection of the public. This twofold end Holmes achieved more fully than any of his con- temporaries. He stood aloof, in a remarkable degree, from the great movements in which the other New England writers of his day were more or less engaged. He had but little sympathy with transcendentalism. Instead of depending upon an " inner light," he placed his reliance, with true Baconian spirit, in observation, evidence, investigation. When, as rarely hap- pened, he attempted to be profound in his speculations, he was not notably successful. Conservative in temperament, he did not aspire to the rbk of a social reformer. His in- difference to the abolition movement brought upon him the censure of some of its leaders. Unswayed by external influ- ences, he steadfastly adhered to the path he had marked out cor himself. He was one of the most brilliant and versatile of men. Though far more earnest than is commonly supposed, he was not dominated, as was Emerson, by a profound philosophy. His poetry has not the power that springs from a great moral purpose. He did not concentrate all his energies upon a sin- gle department of literature or science. He was a physician, 256 AMERICAN LITERATURE. lecturer, poet, essayist, novelist ; and such were his brilliant gifts that he attained eminence in them all. Right or wrong, most persons distrust the judgment and earnestness of a man of wit. Accustomed to laugh at his play of fancy, they feel more or less injured when he talks in a serious strain. They seek his society for entertainment rather than for counsel. Holmes well understood this popular pre- judice; but he was far too faithful to his genius to affect a solemnity he did not feel. In his delightful poem " Nux Post- ccenatica," he excuses himself from a public dinner : "Besides my prospects don't you know that people won't employ A man that wrongs his manliness by laughing like a boy ? And suspect the azure blossom that unfolds upon a shoot, As if wisdom's old potato could not flourish at its root ? " Holmes was a firm believer in heredity. No small part of his writings is devoted to a discussion or illustration of inher- ited tendencies. Yet he did not take a special interest in his own ancestry, though they were of the best New England stock. He had, to use his own words, "a right to be grateful for a probable inheritance of good instincts, a good name, and a bringing up in a library where he bumped about among books from the time when he was hardly taller than one of his father's or grandfather's folios." He was born in Cambridge, Aug. 29, 1809 ; another annus mirabilis, it has been called, as the birth- year also of Lincoln, Darwin, Tennyson, and Gladstone. His father, the Rev. Abiel Holmes, was a Congregational minister of scholarly tastes and attainments. His "Annals of Amer- ica" is a careful and useful history. Holmes's mother is de- scribed as a bright, vivacious woman, of small figure, social tastes, and sprightly manners characteristics that reappeared in the son. In his "Autobiographical Notes," only too brief and frag- mentary, Holmes has given us glimpses of his childhood. He was a precocious child, thoughtful beyond his years. He made a good record at school, and was fond of reading. Among his OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 257 favorite books was Pope's " Homer," which never lost its charm for him. His reading was fragmentary. " I have always read in books," he says, " rather than through them, and always with more profit from the books I read in than the books I read through; for when I set out to read through a book I always felt that I had a task before me ; but when I read /// a book it was the page or the paragraph that I wanted, and which left its impression, and became a part of my intellectual furniture." After a preparatory course at Andover, Holmes entered Har- vard College in 1825, graduating four years later in what be- came "the famous class of '29." There are scant records of his college days. Whatever may have been his devotion to study, it is certain that he was not indifferent to convivial pleasures. His talent for rhyming led to his appointment as class poet. The class feeling was stronger in those days than it is now; and, after a time, the "class of '29" held annual dinners in Boston. No one entered into these reunions with greater zest than Holmes. Beginning with the year 1851, he furnished for twenty-six consecutive years one or more poems for each reu- nion. The best known of these class poems is " Bill and Joe," which contains, in the poet's happiest manner, mingled humor and pathos : " Come, dear old comrade, you and I Will steal an hour from days gone by, The shining days when life was new, And all was bright with morning dew, The lusty days of long ago, When you were Bill and I was Joe." After graduation, Holmes began the study of law, and at- tended lectures for a year. But he found that he was on the wrong track, and gave it up for medicine. He attended two courses of lectures in Boston, and then went abroad to complete his course. He took time to do some sight-seeing, and visited England, Holland, Germany, Switzerland, and Italy. But he spent most of his two years abroad in Paris, where he gave himself diligently to professional study. He had exalted 2 5 8 AMERICAN LITER A TURE. ideas of his profession a little better than he carried out " Medicine," he said, " is the most difficult of sciences and the most laborious of arts. It will task all your powers of body and mind, if you are faithful to it. Do not dabble in the muddy sewers of politics, nor linger by the enchanted streams of literature, nor dig in far-off fields for the hidden waters of alien sciences. The great practitioners are generally those who concentrate all their powers on their business." There is an incident in his life while yet a law-student that must not be passed over. He had been writing for The Col- legian a good many verses that were well received. Indeed, to borrow his phrase, he had become infected with the " lead- poisoning of type-metal." One day he read that the Navy Department had issued orders for the breaking up of the old frigate Constitution, then lying at Charlestown. His soul was deeply stirred ; and, seizing a scrap of paper, he dashed off the passionate lines of " Old Ironsides : " " Ay, tear her tattered ensign down I Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky; Beneath it rang the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar ; The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more 1 " The stirring words of the poem, copied in the press through- out the country, found a response in the heart of the people. Under the sudden blaze of indignation, the astonished Secre- tary revoked his order, and the gallant vessel was spared for half a century. This result was a remarkable achievement for a young man who had just attained his majority. In 1836 Holmes opened an office in Boston as a practising physician. He was sympathetic, painstaking, and conscien- tious ; and in a reasonable time he gained a fair practice. In spite of his fondness for literature, he continued his profes- sional studies with unusual diligence and success. He won OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 259 several prizes by medical essays. But his scholarly tastes fitted him better for a medical lecturer than for a practitioner ; and in 1838 he was much gratified to be elected Professor of Anat- omy at Dartmouth College, a position that required his pres- ence there only three months of the session. The year he opened his office in Boston, he published his first volume of verse. From a professional standpoint it was, perhaps, an unwise thing to do. People are instinctively averse to going to poets for prescriptions. But he was far from indif- ferent to his reputation as a poet. As between the two, he would probably have chosen to go down to posterity famed for his gifts in poetry rather than for his skill in medicine. The slender volume contained several pieces that have since re- mained general favorites. His poetic powers matured early ; and, among all the productions of his subsequent years, there is nothing better than "The Last Leaf" that inimitable com- bination of humor and pathos. One of its stanzas is a perfect gem: " The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom, And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb." His jolly humor nowhere else finds better expression than in " My Aunt," " The September Gale," and " The Height of the Ridiculous." In 1840, the year his connection with Dartmouth College ceased, Holmes thought himself well enough established to end his bachelorhood. His tastes were strongly domestic. Accordingly, he married Miss Amelia Lee Jackson, a gentle, affectionate, considerate woman, who appreciated her hus- band's talents, and, with a noble devotion, helped him to make the most of them. For nearly fifty years her delicate tact shielded him from annoyances, and her skilful manage- ment relieved him of domestic cares. 260 AMERICAN LITERATURE. In 1847 Holmes was elected Professor of Anatomy and Physiology in Harvard University. The chair was afterwards divided, and he had charge of anatomy. He held this position for the long period of thirty-five years. He recognized the danger of falling into an unprogressive routine. "I have no- ticed/' he wrote to a friend, "that the wood of which academic fauteuils are made has a narcotic quality, which occasionally renders their occupants somnolent, lethargic, or even coma- tose." But he escaped this danger ; and, taking a deep inter- est in his department, he remained a wide-awake, progressive teacher to the end. His lectures were illumined with a corus- cating humor that made them peculiarly interesting. About the middle of the century the popular lecture was in great vogue in New England. Men of distinguished abil- ity did not disdain this means of disseminating wisdom and replenishing their pockets. Like Emerson, Holmes made lec- turing tours. Though not imposing in person nor gifted in voice, he was much sought after for his unfailing vivacity and wit. In the "Autocrat" he makes a humorous reference to his experience as a lecturer. "Family men," he says, "get dreadfully homesick. In the remote and bleak village the heart returns to the red blaze of the logs in one's fireplace at home. 'There are his young barbarians all at play.' No, the world has a million roosts for a man, but only one nest." The founding of The Atlantic Monthly, the name of which he suggested, was an important event in the life of Holmes. He was engaged to write for it; and the result was "The Auto- crat of the Breakfast Table," perhaps the best of all his works. He here revealed himself as a charming writer of prose. The "Autocrat" talks delightfully on a hundred different subjects, presenting with a careless grace and irrepressible humor the accumulated wisdom of years of observation and study. Noth ing is too small or too great for his reflections. "There are OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 261 few books," as George William Curtis well said, "that leave more distinctly the impression of a mind teeming with riches of many kinds. It is, in the Yankee phrase, thoroughly wide awake. There is no languor, and it permits none in the reader, who must move along the page warily, lest in the gay profusion of the grove, unwittingly defrauding himself of delight, he miss some flower half-hidden, some gem chance-dropped, some dart- ing bird." Interspersed through the brilliant talk of the "Autocrat" are nearly a score of poems, partly humorous and partly seri- ous. Several of these rank among the poet's choicest produc- tions. A special charm is given to each poem by its setting. "The Chambered Nautilus" was Holmes's favorite among all his poems. " Booked for immortality " was Whittier's criticism the moment he read it. The last stanza gives beautiful expres- sion to the aspiration of a noble spirit : " Build thee more stately mansions, O 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." The humorous poem " Contentment " embodied, as he tells us, "the subdued and limited desires of his maturity:" "Little I ask; my wants are few; I only wish a hut of stone, (A very plain brown stone will do,) That I may call my own; And close at hand is such a one, In yonder street that fronts the sun." Other poems from the " Autocrat " deserving special men- tion are "Musa," "What We All Think," "Latter-Day Warn- ings," "Estivation," and, above all these, "The Deacon's Masterpiece." 262 AMERICAN LITERATURE. About the time the Atlantic was founded, the Saturday Club came into existence, and numbered among its members Emer- son, Hawthorne, Longfellow, Lowell, Whittier, Motley, Agassiz, and other distinguished literary men of Boston and Cambridge. They dined together the last Saturday of every month. A more brilliant club had not existed since the days of John- son and Goldsmith. Holmes took great pride in it, and added greatly to its festive meetings. He was a prince of talkers. His wise, witty, genial, vivacious talk is said to have been even better than his books. He called talking "one of the fine arts." He probably had the Saturday Club in mind when, in the "Autocrat," he defined an intellectual banquet as "that carnival-shower of questions and replies and comments, large axioms bowled over the mahogany like bombshells from pro- fessional mortars, and explosive wit dropping its trains of many-colored fire, and the mischief-making rain of bon-bons pelting everybody that shows himself." Holmes was strongly attached to Boston, and was really its poet laureate. He playfully said that the "Boston State House is the hub of the solar system," and in his heart half believed it. He received a proud and affectionate recognition from the city. He was expected to grace every great festive occasion with his presence, and to contribute a poem to its enjoyment. The number of these occasional pieces is surpris- ing ; they form no inconsiderable part of his poetical works. Of their kind they are unsurpassed. Year after year Holmes met the demand upon him with unfailing freshness and vigor. But it goes without saying that vers de sotitie does not belong to the highest order of poetry. It does not sound the deeper notes of song, nor entitle the poet, no matter how brilliant may be his verse, to rank with those "to whom poetry, for its own sake, has been a passion and belief." Holmes was strongly drawn to theological subjects. It maybe true, as has been suggested, that he inherited "eccle- siastical pugnacity ; " but it was not exercised in defending the ecclesiastical beliefs and institutions of his ancestors. A theo- OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, logical thread runs through nearly all his prose writings ; and his uniform antipathy to what he believed to be erroneous creeds does more than anything else to give them unity. Yet at heart he was a religious man. His anchor was "trust in God." He held to the doctrine of immortality. He looked upon this world as a training-school. In his " Autobiographi- cal Notes," written in his old age, he says, " This colony of the universe is a'n educational institution so far as the human race is concerned. On this theory I base my hopes for myself and my fellow-creatures. If, in the face of all the so-called evil to which I cannot close my eyes, I have managed to retain a cheerful optimism, it is because this educational theory is at the basis of my working creed." "The Professor at the Breakfast Table," published in 1859, is devoted chiefly to a discussion of theological subjects. Whatever may be thought of the " Professor's " views, there can be no question about the confidence and the skill with which they are presented. The dramatis persona, if one may use the phrase, are interesting ; and the death-scene of the Lit- tle Gentleman is the most pathetic incident in all Holmes's writings. Judged from an artistic standpoint, the " Professor " is somewhat below the "Autocrat." It is less spontaneous, being written largely, one might think, to relieve the author's mind of a theological burden. Or, to borrow his own words, " The first juice that runs of itself from the grapes comes from the heart of the fruit, and tastes of the pulp only ; when the grapes are squeezed in the press, the flow betrays the flavor of the skin." The third and last of the Breakfast Table series was " The Poet at the Breakfast Table," which appeared in 1873. It is hazardous to attempt to repeat successes ; but the result justi- fied what Holmes called his audacity. The " Poet " is a little more serious than his predecessors ; but while he is perceptibly inferior to them in novelty and vivacity, he is still delightful. The volume contains in successive cantos " Wind-Clouds and Star-Drifts," Holmes's longest and most ambitious poem. 264 AMERICAN LITERATURE. * This poem," he says, " holds a good deal of self-communing, and gave me the opportunity of expressing some thoughts and feelings not to be found elsewhere in my writings." Shall we accept the creeds of " sad-eyed hermits " and " angry con- claves " ? " Ah, not from these the listening soul can hear The Father's voice that speaks itself divine ! Love must be still our Master ; till we learn What he can teach us of a woman's heart, We know not His, whose love embraces all." Holmes's two principal novels, " Elsie Venner " which ap- peared in 1861, and "The Guardian Angel" which appeared in 1867, belong to the class of fiction with a purpose. The first was designed to illustrate the effects of a powerful pre-natal influence ; the other, the law of heredity. They have been spoken of, much to the author's chagrin, as "medicated novels." The scenes are laid in New England, the manners of which are portrayed with graphic realism. These novels have been criti- cised as crude in form ; but, in spite of defects of plot, they have been widely read. They will, no doubt, be less read as Interest in their main theme declines ; but " The Guardian Angel," the better of the two books, will long be deservedly popular for its humor and wisdom. Holmes did not have much confidence in the biographer's art. "I should like to see," he says in "The Poet at the Break- fast Table," " any man's biography with corrections and emen- dations by his ghost." But, in spite of this distrust, he wrote two popular biographies, one of Motley, the other of Emerson. Motley was one of his most intimate friends ; and it was not unnatural, therefore, that the biography, which was published in 1878, should bear somewhat the character of a tribute. His temperament hardly qualified him for writing the life of Emer- son. He was not inclined toward transcendentalism ; and, as he acknowledged, he was "a late comer as an admirer of the Concord poet and philosopher." But, as in all his writings, he gave himself conscientiously to the task. A keen analytical OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES, 26$ spirit took the place of a profound sympathy. The biography, which appeared in 1884, is more satisfactory to the general public than to the students of Emerson. It is interesting, and at times brilliant ; but somehow one feels the absence of a perfectly sympathetic treatment. In 1882, after an incumbency of thirty-five years, he re- signed his professorship. Four years later he made a visit abroad, spending nearly all his time in England. He was warmly received in London society. " He is enjoying himself immensely," wrote Lowell, " and takes as keen an interest in everything as he would have done at twenty. I almost envy him this freshness of genius. Everybody is charmed with him, as it is natural they should be." He was honored by the uni- versities of Edinburgh, Cambridge, and Oxford with degrees. The observations of his brief stay abroad he embodied in "Our Hundred Days in Europe." Though now considerably beyond the allotted limit of hu- man life, Holmes did not give up his literary work. In addition to the biography of Emerson, he wrote a third novel, "A Mortal Antipathy," which fell considerably below his previous efforts in that line. " Over the Teacups," a work after the manner of the Breakfast Table series, was written when he had passed his eightieth year. It possesses a pathetic interest. The exube- rant wit and brilliancy of his earlier works are largely replaced by the reminiscent soberness of age. " Tea-cups, " he said, " are not coffee-cups. They do not hold so much. Their pal- lid infusion is but a feeble stimulant compared with the black decoction served at the morning board." Yet it was a pleasure for him to write ; it gave him occupation in the loneliness of age, and kept him in relation with his fellow-beings. The suc- cessive papers were kindly received, a fact that gave him great satisfaction. " Over the Teacups " contains "The Broomstick Train," a poem in which the old-time fancy and lightness are again apparent. It is not unworthy to be placed by the side of " How the Old Horse won the Bet," " Grandmother's Story of Bunker Hill Battle," and other of his best pieces. 266 AMERICAN LITERATURE. But the end was now near, not unheralded by gently failing faculties. His last days were made as happy as possible by the affectionate remembrance and tender consideration of a large circle of friends. He was spared the trial of protracted illness. He was able to take his usual walks up to a few days before his death. He passed away painlessly in his chair, Oct. 7, 1894. Numberless loving tributes were paid to his memory on both sides of the Atlantic. Holmes was an interesting and -lovable man, genial, bril- liant, witty, and yet deeply earnest withal. His personality is reflected in his books in a rare degree. Whatever the presid- ing genius at the Breakfast Table may be called, Autocrat, Professor, Poet, we know that it is Holmes himself that is speaking. " For though he changes dress and name, The man beneath is still the same, Laughing or sad, by fits and starts, One actor in a dozen parts, And whatsoe'er the mask may be, The voice assures us, This is he" He might be called the most human of our men of letters. He delighted in touching life at many points. He had the gift of mechanical ingenuity, and always liked to have something to tinker at. He invented the stereoscope, out of which, had he sought to do so, he might have made a fortune. He was fond of boating ; and the description he gives of his fleet in the " Autocrat " was not all fiction. He was fond of a good horse ; as he said, " An easy gait two, forty-five Suits me ; I do not care ; Perhaps for just a single spurt, Some seconds less would do no hurt." He felt a broad sympathy with his fellow-men ; and, as he felt kindly towards them, he took it for granted that they would be interested in what he wrote. "I do not know," he said, " what special gifts have been granted or denied me ; but OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 267 this I know, that I am like so many others of my fellow-crea- tures, that when I smile, I feel as if they must ; when I cry, I think their eyes fill ; and it always seems to me that when I am most truly myself, I come nearest to them, and am surest being listened to by the brothers and sisters of the larger family into which I was born so long ago." This broad and tender sympathy will long give him an uncommon hold on the hearts of men. SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD. PROMINENT WRITERS. NEW ENGLAND. THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH. Born in New Hampshire in 1836. A writer of interesting stories and polished lyric verse. Editor of various periodicals, including 7'/ie Atlantic Monthly. Author of " The Ballad of Babie Bell and Other Poems," "Poems," "The Story of a Bad Boy," "Marjorie Daw, and Other People," " Prudence Palfrey," "The Stillwater Tragedy," etc. (See text.) JOHN T. TROWBRIDGE. Born in New York in 1827. A popular writer of both prose and verse. His juvenile writings are interesting and wholesome. Among his numerous works are "Neighbor Jackwood," "Neighbors' Wives," "The Vagabonds, and Other Poems," "Laurence's Adventures," "The Young Surveyor," "A Home Idyl, and Other Poems," "Farnell's Folly," "The Lottery Ticket," etc. CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER (1829-1900). An editor, novelist, and essayist of Hartford. To critical acumen he joined a delightful humor. Author of " My Summer in a Garden," " Backlog Studies," " In the Wilderness," "Life of Washington Irving," " In the Levant," etc. (See text.) E. P. WHIPPLE (1819-1886). An essayist and critic of Boston, who supported his sound judgment with a vigorous style. Among his writings are "Char- acter and Characteristic Men," " Literature and Life," " Success and its Conditions," " Literature of the Age of Elizabeth," etc. JOHN FISKE (1842-1901). A distinguished philosopher and historian of Cam- bridge. As a thinker he belonged to the school of Darwin and Spencer. He wrote " Myths and Myth-Makers," "Outlines of Cosmic Philosophy," "The Destiny of Man," "The American Revolution," "Virginia and Her Neighbors," etc. JAMES FREEMAN CLARKE (1810-1888). An able Unitarian clergyman of Bos- ton. Among his numerous works are " Orthodoxy : its Truths and Errors," "Ten Great Religions," "Self-Culture," and " Every- Day Religion," the last two being especially helpful. 268 SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD. 269 EDWARD EVERETT HALE. Born in Massachusetts in 1822. Unitarian clergy- man, editor, historian, poet, and novelist; but as active in philanthropy as in literature. Among his many writings are to be noted "The Man without a Country," " In His Name," " Ten Times One is Ten," " Philip Nolan's Friends," " P\>r Fifty Years," a collection of poems, etc. (See text.) ROSE TERRY COOKE (1827-1892). Born in Connecticut. A writer both of prose and verse, her short stories being particularly excellent. Author of "Happy Dodd," "Somebody's Neighbors," "The Sphinx's Children and Other People's," " Poems," etc. MARGARET WADE DELANO. Born in Pennsylvania in 1857, but has lived in Boston since 1880. A writer of novels and poems. Her novel, "John Ward, Preacher," had a wide circulation. Author also of " The Old Gar- den and Other Verses," " Philip and His Wife," "The Wisdom of Fools," etc. SARAH ORNE JEWETT. Born in Maine in 1849. Her careful studies of rural New England life and character have justly made her popular. Author of "Old Friends and New," "A Country Doctor," "The King of Folly Island and Other People," "The Country of the Pointed Firs," etc. ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS WARD. Born in Massachusetts in 1844. A writer of admirable gifts both in prose and poetry. Her " Gates Ajar," which appeared in 1869, made her famous. The following are noteworthy in the long list of her writings: "Men, Women, and Ghosts," "Dr. Zay," " The Story of Avis," " A Singular Life," and " Songs of the Silent World." CHARLES FARRAR BROWNE, "Artemus Ward" (1834-1867). A humorist and lecturer, whose humor was grotesque and whose satire was good-natured. Author of "Artemus Ward: His Book," "Artemus Ward among the Mormons," "Artemus Ward in London," etc. HORACE E. SCUDDER (1838-1903). Born in Boston. A litterateur of his native city; for some years editor of The Atlantic Monthly. Author of "Seven Little People and Their Friends," "Stories from My Attic," "Life of Noah Webster," "A History of the United States," "Life of Bayard Taylor," etc. ADELINE D. T. WHITNEY. Born in Boston in 1824. A popular writer for girls. Author of "Faith Gartney's Girlhood," "Leslie Goldthwaite," "The Other Girls," and in verse, of "Pansies," "Holy Tides," etc. LOUISA MAY ALCOTT (1832-1888). One of our best writers for young people. Author of "Little Women," "Little Men," "An Old-Fashioned Girl," "Eight Cousins," "Under the Lilies," etc. 2/O AMERICAN LITERATURE. LOUISE CHANDLER MOULTON. Born in Connecticut in 1835. A poet and prose writer of Boston. She was the literary executor of the English poet, Philip Bourke Marston, whose poems she edited. Her works include "This, That, and the Other," made up of stories, essays, and poems, "Juno Clifford," "Poems," "Random Rambles," "In the Garden of Dreams, Lyrics, and Sonnets," etc. MARY A. DODGE ("Gail Hamilton") (1838-1896). A native of Massachusetts, whose pungent style made her writings popular. Author of "A New Atmosphere," " Woman's Wrongs," " Sermons to the Clergy," " Woman's Worth and Worthlessness," " Biography of James G. Blaine," etc. LUCY LARCOM (1824-1893). A native of Massachusetts, who in early life worked in the Lowell mills. She afterwards became popular as a writer both of prose and verse. Among her works are " Childhood Songs," " An Idyl of Work," " Poetical Works," " Ships in the Mist, and Other Stories," "The Unseen Friend," "A New England Girlhood," which is autobiographic, etc. CELIA THAXTER (1835-1894). A native of New Hampshire, her father was keeper of the lighthouse on the Isle of Shoals, where much of her life was spent. " Among the Isles of Shoals " were papers published in The Atlantic Monthly. Among her volumes of verse are " Drift- Weed," " The Cruise of the Mystery, and Other Poems," " Poems for Children," etc. WILLIAM T. HARRIS. Born in Connecticut in 1835. For thirteen years superintendent of the St. Louis public schools; afterwards lecturer at the Concord School of Philosophy; at present United States Commis- sioner of Education. Eminent as an educator and philosopher. Author of " Introduction to the Study of Philosophy," " The Spiritual Sense of Dante's Divina Commedia," " Psychologic Foundations of Education," etc. THE MIDDLE STATES. WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS. Born in Ohio in 1837. He began his literary career as a writer of verse. Consul to Venice, and later editor of The Atlantic Monthly. Among his many volumes of realistic fiction may be mentioned "The Undiscovered Country," "A Modern Instance," "The Rise of Silas Lapham," "A Traveller from Altruria," to which may be added a series of delightful farces, " The Mouse Trap," " The Parlor Car," etc. (See text.) HENRY JAMES. Born in New York in 1843 ; has resided in London since 1869. His numerous novels are written in a style of overdone refine- ment. Worthy of mention are " The Portrait of a Lady," " Daisy Miller," " The Bostonians," " A London Wife," "The Sacred Fount," etc. SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD. 2J 1 EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN. Born in Connecticut in 1833. A poet and literary critic of New York, possessing rare refinement of taste. Author of " Poems," " Victorian Poets," " Poets of America," " The Nature and Elements of Poetry," " A Victorian Anthology," " An American Anthol- ogy," etc. (See text.) RICHARD HENRY STODDARD (1825-1903). A native of Massachusetts, who spent the most of his life in New York as poet, editor, and critic. A writer of more than usual force. Author of " Adventures in Fairy Land," " Songs of Summer," " Life of Washington Irving," " Under the Evening Lamp," etc. (See text.) RICHARD WATSON GILDER. Born in New Jersey in 1844. Poet, editor, arid social reformer. Editor of The Century Afagazine. Author of " The New Day," "The Celestial Passion," "Lyrics," "Five Books of Song," "In Palestine," etc. RICHARD GRANT WHITE (1822-1885). A critic, novelist, and Shakespeare scholar of New York. Author of " Words and Their Uses," " Every-Day English," "The Fate of Mansfield Humphreys," and a critical edition of Shakespeare in twelve volumes. FRANCIS RICHARD STOCKTON (1834-1903). A native of Philadelphia ; a writer of rare humor and originality. Among his numerous delightful stories are "The Lady or the Tiger ?" " Rudder Grange," "The Casting Away of Mrs. Leeks and Mrs. Aleshine," " The House of Martha," " The Watchmaker's Wife," etc. (See text.) HJALMAR HJORTH BOYESEN (1848-1895). A native of Norway, but for many years a professor in Columbia College. A scholar, novelist, poet, and his- torian. Author of " Gunnar," "A Norseman's Pilgrimage," " Falcon - berg," " Goethe and Schiller," " The Story of Norway," " Idylls of Norway, and Other Poems," etc. EDWARD PAYSON ROE (1838-1888). A Presbyterian clergyman of New York State, who wrote many novels, once quite popular, of a strong moral char- acter. Among them were " Barriers Burned Away," " Opening of a Chestnut Burr," "A Knight of the Nineteenth Century," "The Earth Trembled," etc. WALT WHITMAN (1819-1892). Teacher, printer, editor, carpenter a unique figure in American literature. Author of " Leaves of Grass," in which the usual poetic forms are discarded. By some esteemed highly as a poet, by others denied that title entirely. (See text.) JOHN BURROUGHS. Born in New York in 1837. An essayist, whose sympa- thetic studies of nature have made him popular. Author of " Wake 2/2 AMERICAN LITERATURE. Robin," "Birds and Poets," "Winter Sunshine," "Indoor Studies," " Squirrels and Other Fur Bearers," etc. CHARLES GODFREY LELAND (1824-1903). A native of Philadelphia; a poet and educator, and authority in Gypsy lore. Author of " Hans Breitmann's Ballads," " English Gypsies," " Practical Education," " Legends of Flor- ence," " Algonquin Legends," " Anglo-Romany Songs," etc. ALICE GARY (1820-1871) and PHCEBE GARY (1824-1871) were both born in Ohio, but spent the latter part of their lives in New York. The former was poet and novelist; she wrote "Lyra, and Other Poems," "Ballads, Lyrics, and Hymns," " Pictures of Country Life," " Hagar," " Married, not Mated," etc. The latter wrote " Poems and Parodies " and " Poems of Faith, Hope, and Love." EMMA LAZARUS (1849-1887). A native of New York; a gifted writer of Jewish descent. Among her writings are "Alide, an Episode of Goethe's Life," " Admetus, and Other Poems," " Songs of a Semite," " Poems and Ballads translated from Heine." SILAS WEIR MITCHELL. Born in Pennsylvania in 1829. A distinguished physician of Philadelphia, poet, and novelist. Author of "Poems" (5 vols.), and of " Hephzibah Guinnes," "Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker," which became very popular, " The Autobiography of a Quack," " Dr. North and His Friends," etc. BRANDER MATTHEWS. Bom in Louisiana in 1852. A professor in Columbia University, critic, dramatist, and novelist. Among his many writings are "The Theatres of Paris," "Margery's Lovers" (a comedy), "The Last Meeting," " In the Vestibule Limited," " The Decision of the Court " (a comedy), "His Father's Son," and an "Introduction to the Study of American Literature," which is not quite worthy of his excellent scholar- ship and ability. PAUL LEICESTER FORD (1865-1902). A historian and novelist of New York City. He edited the " Writings of Thomas Jefferson " in ten volumes. Author of " The Honorable Peter Stirling," " The Story of an Untold Love," "The True George Washington," "Janice Meredith," which was widely read, etc. HAMILTON WRIGHT MABIE. Born in New York in 1846. An essayist and journalist, associate editor of The Outlook. Author of "Norse Stories Retold from the Eddas," "My Study Fire," "Short Studies in Literature," "Nature and Culture," "Books and Culture," "Work and Culture," "The Life of the Spirit," " Shakespeare : Poet, Dramatist, and Man," etc. LYMAN ABBOTT. Born in Massachusetts in 1835. A clergyman, editor, and author of large influence. Editor of The Outlook, and author of various SECOND NATIONAL PERIOD. 2/3 religious books of liberal spirit, among which are " Jesus of Nazareth," "A Study in Human Nature," "In Aid of Faith," "Evolution of Chris- tianity," " Christianity and Social Problems," " The Life and Literature of the Ancient Hebrews," etc. HENRY VAN DYKE. .Born in Pennsylvania in 1852. Presbyterian clergy- man, professor of ''English literature at Princeton, poet, and essayist. Author of "The Reality of Religion," "The Poetry of Tennyson," "The Other Wise Man," " The Gospel for an Age of Doubt," " The Toiling of Felix, and Other Poems," "The Blue Flower," etc. WILLIAM WINTER. Born in Massachusetts in 1836. Author and dramatic critic of New York. He has written, among other things, " Shakespeare's England," " Gray Days and Gold," " Shadows of the Stage," " Life and Art of Edwin Booth," "Wanderers" (poems), "Life of Ada Rehan," " Henry Irving: Studies of His Acting," etc. AGNES REPPLIER. Born in Pennsylvania in 1859. A popular essayist; Ro- man Catholic in religion. Author of " Books and Men," " Points of View," " Essays in Miniature," " Essays in Idleness," " Philadelphia : the Place and the People," etc. LAURENCE HUTTON. Born in New York in 1843. Author, essayist, journal- ist, and lecturer. Literary editor of Harper's Magazine from 1886 to 1898. Author of " Other Times and Other Seasons," " Plays and Players," " Literary Landmarks of London," " Literary Landmarks of Rome," and many other volumes. THEODORE ROOSEVELT. Born in New York in 1858. Governor of New York ; President of the United States ; vigorous in mind as in body a fine type of " The Strenuous Life " he advocates. Author of " Winning of the West," "Life of Thomas Hart Benton," "Naval War of 1812," " American Ideals and Other Essays," " Ranch Life and the Hunting Trail," " Life of Cromwell," etc. RICHARD HARDING DAVIS. Born in Philadelphia in 1864. A novelist and journalist ; prominent as a newspaper correspondent in the recent war with Spain. Author of "Soldiers of Fortune," " Gallegher, and Other Stories," "The Princess Aline," "Van Bibber and Others," "The King's Jackal," " Episodes in Van Bibber's Life," " With Both Armies in South Africa," etc. BLISS CARMAN. Born in New Brunswick in 1861. A poet and journalist of New York. Author of " Low Tide on Grand Pre," "A Sea-mark," " Be- hind the Arras," " Ballads of Lost Haven," " Songs from Vagabondia," " The Vengeance of Noel Brassard," etc. 2/4 AMERICAN LITERATURE. FRANK DEMPSTER SHERMAN. Born in New York in 1860. Professor of architecture in Columbia University; a lyrical poet. Author of "Madri- gals and Catches," " Lyrics for a Lute," " Little-Folk Lyrics," etc. FRANCIS MARION CRAWFORD. Born in Italy in 1854, the son of an American sculptor. Studied at Harvard, and at universities abroad. He resides in Italy. A prolific and popular novelist; author of "Mr. Isaacs," "A Roman Singer," and the Saracinesca trio (including " Saracinesca," " Sant' Ilario," and " Don Orsino "), " Via Crucis," etc. GEORGE EDWARD WOODBERRY. Born in Massachusetts in 1855. Professor in Columbia University, biographer, poet, and literary critic. Author of " Life of Edgar Allan Poe," "The North Shore Watch, and Other Poems," " Heart of Man," " Makers of Literature," etc. JULIAN HAWTHORNE. Born in Boston in 1846. Son of Nathaniel Haw- thorne ; a journalist and novelist who inherited much of his father's originality. Author of " Nathaniel Hawthorne and His Wife," " Bres- sant," " Garth," "Beatrix Randolph," "Fortune's Fool," "David Poin- dexter's Disappearance," " Archibald Malmaison," " One of Those Coincidences, and Other Stories," etc. THE SOUTH. GEORGE W. CABLE. Born in Louisiana in 1844. A distinguished novelist of Creole life. Author of " Old Creole Days," " The Grandissimes," "Madame Delphine," "Dr. Sevier," "John March, Southerner," etc. (See text.) THOMAS NELSON PAGE. Born in Virginia in 1853. A novelist of Southern life. Author of "In Old Virginia," "Two Little Confederates," "Among the Camps," " Meh Lady," " Marse Chan," " Santa Claus' Partner," " Red Rock," " Gordon Keith," etc. JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS. Born in Georgia in 1848. An editor of 7/4 death, and ofisis, view), means a view of, or meditation on, death. The poem illustrates two of Bryant's leading characteristics: (l) his sympathy with nature, and (2) his reflective, ethical tone. 41 8 AMERICAN LITERATURE. As first published in the North American Review, the poem began with the lines, " Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun shall see no more In all his course," and closed with the words, "And make their bed with thee." The present beautiful beginning and close were added in 1822, when eight of Bryant's poems were published in a pamphlet of forty-eight pages. Bryant is distinguished for the quality of his blank verse. No other American poet has used it so effectively. It has an elevation, rhythm, and sonorous music that furnish a fitting dress for his lofty thought and deep emotion. The several parts of this poem and the movement of thought may be briefly indicated as follows: i. Nature speaks a various language to those who love and commune with her (lines 1-8). 2. When sorrowful thoughts of death come to the soul, listen to Nature's teachings (8-17). 3. Her voice tells us that our forms will soon vanish from the earth (17-30). 4. Yet our resting-place is hallowed by the presence of the mighty, the wise, and the good, and decorated by the hills, woods, rivers, and " Old ocean's gray and melancholy waste" (30-45). 5. The innumerable dead that reign in all parts of the earth (45-57). 6. The present and coming generations will all come to make their bed with us in the dust (57-72). 7. We should so live as to approach the grave with an unfaltering trust (72-81). 1. Explain "communion" What "visible forms" are meant? 2. Eloquence of beauty = a beauty capable of exciting deep emotion. 3. Explain " darker musings." Note the force of the word "glides." 4. In some editions we find "gentle" in place of "healing." Which is preferable? 5. What is the force of " steals " here, and why is it better than takes ? 6. Give a synonym of " bitter," and explain " blight" in the same line. 7. Explain " stern." 8. That is, of the coffin in the " narrow house " or grave 9. Embrace = clasp. French en, in, and bras, arm. 10. Growth == developed form. 11. Parse "trace." 12. What is the meaning of " insensible"? Is there any difference be- tween " insensible" and "sluggish " in the next line? 13. Explain " rude swain." 14. What is the etymology of "patriarchs.," and who are meant here? NOTES TO BRYANT. 419 15. This statement is not strictly true ; but when Bryant wrote, the nebu- lar hypothesis was not so generally adopted, and geological science was yet in its infancy. As a matter of fact, the hills are a comparatively recent phenonv enon in the history of our globe, and certainly much less ancient than the sun. 16. Explain "pensive quietness." 17. Give the exact idea of " venerable." 18. Note the fine effect of these adjectives. Give a synonym of " mel- 19. What is meant by this phrase? 20. What is meant by " tribes " f 21. An adaptation of Ps. cxxxix. 9 : " If I take the wings of the morn- ing, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea." 22. Other readings are: "Traverse Barca's desert sands," and "the Barcan desert pierce." Which is preferable ? Barca is a country in north- ern Africa. 23. Another name for the Columbia River. 24. This statement is true of Barca, which at present has a population of a million, and contains ruins indicative of a flourishing era in the past ; but its truth is not so obvious in the case of the Oregon. ' 25. Other readings are : "If thou withdraw Unheeded," and " If thou shall fall Unnoticed." 26. Brood = progeny, offspring. Paraphrase this sentence. 27. What is a "phantom " ? What are some of the "phantoms " men pursue ? 28. Bryant also wrote "glides" Which is better? 29. For this line, the following is substituted in some editions : " The bowed with age, the infant in the smiles And beauty of its innocent age cut off," which is certainly more poetical. 30. Another reading is : " The pale realms of shade." Which do you prefer ? To A WATERFOWL. For the circumstances of its composition, see the sketch of Bryant. The following incident is related by Mr. Parke Godwin : "Once when the late Matthew Arnold, with his family, was visiting the ever-hospitable country home of Mr. Charles Butler, I happened to spend an evening there. In the course of it Mr. Arnold took up a volume of Mr. Bryant's poems from a table, and, turning to me, said, 'This is the American poet, facile princeps ; ' and after a pause he continued : ' When I first heard of him, Hartley Coleridge (I was but a lad at the time) came into my father's 4 2 O AMERICAN LITERATURE. house one afternoon considerably excited, and exclaimed, '* Matt, do you want to hear the best short poem in the English language? " " Faith, Hartley, I do," was my reply. He then read a poem " To a Waterfowl," in his best manner. And he was a good reader. As soon as he had done, he asked, " What do you think of that ? " " I am not sure but you are right, Hartley; is that your father's ?" was my reply. "No," he rejoined; " father has writ- ten nothing like that." Some days after he might be heard muttering to himself, ' The desert and illimitable air, Lone wandering, but not lost." ' 1 Note the use of the generic term " waterfowl." Can you give a reason for this ? What aquatic fowl is probably meant ? Make an analysis of the poem so as to give the order of thought in the successive stanzas. Do not fail mentally to picture the scenes described. 1. Explain the phenomenon of " dew." Does all dew fall? At what time is the " waterfowl " seen by the poet? 2. Explain "glow." What figure of speech is used with " day" ? 3. Does the "waterfowl" in question usually migrate alone? What form do the flocks generally assume in their migrations ? 4. Why should the poet think of a "fowler " as he watches the water- fowl ? 5. Why use the word "floats " here? 6. Explain " plashy." 7. What word would the poet have used in prose? 8. Explain " chafed." All the waters mentioned in this stanza are vis- ited by the wild goose, with the habits of which the poet was evidently acquainted. 9. Coast = region an unusual meaning. 10. These birds usually fly at a great height. It is only when confused or lost that they fly near the earth. 11. Abyss = immeasurable space. From Greek a privative and bussos^ depth, bottom. Etymologically, a bottomless depth. 12. Here we have another illustration of Bryant's ethical habit of mind. The following stanza contains the lesson learned. A FOREST HYMN. In this poem Bryant's deep religious nature is clearly apparent. Make an analysis of the poem by noting the successive topics. 1 Bigelow, William Cullen Bryant, p. 43. NOTES TO BRYANT. 421 1. Explain "shaft" and " architrave.'* See illustrations in a good dictionary. 2. Vault = arched roof or ceiling. In the great cathedrals of Europe the arched ceiling is often very lofty. 3. As poured forth from the great cathedral organs and large choirs. 4. Darkling = dusky, gloomy. " The pres. part, of a supposed verb darkle ', diminutive from dark." WEBSTER. 5. In some editions we find "amidst." " Amid " is used mostly in poetry. 6. Give a synonym for " solemn." 7. Might not was not able. A. S. magan, to be able. 8. What is the subject of " stole " ? From what three separate objects came the " sacred influences "? 9. Explain " riper years.'* 10. What is the etymological force of sanctuary? 11. Bryant had in mind Gen. i. 10, II. 12. Explain " shrine ." Why does Bryant say " humble worshipper "\ 13. Report = te\\. 14. Fantastic = existing only in imagination ; hence, unlike anything in nature. Such ornamentation can hardly be justified on any correct principles of architecture. According to Ruskin, ornamentation should in some degree express or adopt the beauty of natural objects. " All noble ornament is the expression of man's delight in God's work." 15. Instinct = moved, animated. Lat. instinguere, to instigate, incite. 16. Emanation = that which issues from any source. Lat. e, out, and manare, to flow. 17. To what does "he" refer? 18. These were the anchorets or hermits of the early centuries of the Christian era. " They lived in caves, avoided all intercourse with their fellow- men, abstained as much as possible from food, spoke no word, but prayed in silence." Schaff-Herzog Encyclopedia. 19. Express " the swift dark whirlwind " in a single word. To THE FRINGED GENTIAN. This poem is justly admired for its delicate feeling. The poet's love of nature, exhibited in the various fine descriptions of " Thanatopsis," and " A Forest Hymn," is here centred in a little flower. His acquaintance with the appearance and habits of the several flowers mentioned indicates his attentive observation. I. Gentiana crinita^ or Blue Fringed Gentian, found in cool, low groundi 422 AMERICAN LITERATURE. from Canada to Carolina. The stem is about a foot high, and the flowers are sky-blue. It blooms in autumn. 2. Aquilegia Vtdgaris, or common Columbine. It blooms in June, with large purple flowers. Another common species, Aquilegia Canadensis, has scarlet flowers. THE DEATH OF THE FLOWERS. This poem was written in memory of the poet's sister, the beloved com- panion of his earlier years. See the sketch of Bryant. " No one is to be envied," says a biographer, " who can read the closing stanzas to-day without emotion." What characteristics of the poet are exemplified in this piece? This poem, as well as the following one, "The Evening Wind," will repay careful Study. SELECTIONS FROM FOE. 423 X. SELECTIONS FROM POE. THE RAVEN. ONCE upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. " Tis some visitor," I muttered, " tapping at my chamber door Only this and nothing more." 1 Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December, 2 And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow From my books surcease of sorrow sorrow for the lost Lenore > For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore Nameless here for evermore. And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain 3 Thrilled me filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating " 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; 4 This it is and nothing more." Presently my soul grew stronger ; hesitating then no longer, " Sir," said I, " or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore ; But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping, And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door, That I scarce was sure I heard you " here I opened wide the door ; Darkness there and nothing more. Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before ; But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token, 424 AMERICAN LITERATURE. And the only word there spoken was the whispered word " Lenore?" This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word ** Lenore ! " Merely this and nothing more. Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning, Soon again I heard a tapping something louder than before. ** Surely, 1 ' said I, " surely that is something at my window lattice; Let me see, then, what thereat is and this mystery explore Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore ; 'Tis the wind and nothing more." Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter, 5 In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore. Not the least obeisance made he ; not a minute stopped or stayed he ; But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door Perched upon a bust of Pallas 6 just above my chamber door Perched, and sat, and nothing more. Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, By the grave and stern*decorum of the countenance it wore, " Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, " art sure no craven, Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore ! " Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore." 7 Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly, Though its answer little meaning little relevancy bore; For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door, With such name as "Nevermore." But the Raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing farther then he uttered ; not a feather then he fluttered Till I scarcely more than muttered, " Other friends have flown before On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before." Then the bird said " Nevermore." Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken, ' Doubtless, 1 ' said I, " what it utters is its only stock and store, SELECTIONS FROM POE. 42$ Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore Of ' Never nevermore.' " But the Raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling, Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door ; Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore Meant in croaking " Nevermore." This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core ; This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er, But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er She shall press, ah, nevermore ! Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor. "Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee by these angels he hath sent thee Respite respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore ! Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore ! " Quoth the Raven, " Nevermore." ' Prophet ! " said I, " thing of evil ! prophet still, if bird or devil ! Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted On this Home by horror haunted tell me truly, I implore Is there is 'here balm in Gilead ? tell me tell me, I implore ! " Quoth the Raven, " Nevermore." " Prophet ! " said I, " thing of evil prophet still, if bird or devil ! By that heaven that bends above us by that God we both adore Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn, It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore." Quoth the Raven, " Nevermore." 8 426 AMERICAN LITERATURE. " Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend ! " I shrieked, upstart- ing " Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore ! Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken ! Leave my loneliness unbroken ! quit the bust above my door ! Take thy beak from out my heart, 9 and take thy form from off my door ! " Quoth the Raven, " Nevermore." And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; 10 And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor Shall be lifted nevermore. THE MASQUE ' OF THE RED DEATH. THE " Red Death " 2 had long devastated the country. No pesti- .ence had ever been so fatal or so hideous. Blood was its Avator 3 and its seal the redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness, and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim were the pest ban 4 which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And the whole seizure, progress, and termination of the disease were the inci- dents of half an hour. But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his pres- ence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. 5 This was an extensive and magnifi- cent structure, the creation of the prince's own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress nor egress 6 to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within. The abbey was amply provisioned. With such SELECTIONS FROM POE. 427 precautions the courtiers might bid defiance to contagion. 7 The ex- ternal world could take care of itself. In the meantime it was folly to grieve or to think. The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisator!, 8 there were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the " Red Death/' It was toward the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion, and while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince Prospero entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most unusual magnificence. It was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of the rooms in which it was held. There were seven an imperial suite. In many palaces, however, such suites form a long and straight vista, 9 while the folding doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand, so that the view of the whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the case was very different, as might have been expected from the duke's love of the bizarre. 10 The apartments were so irregularly dis- posed that the vision embraced but little more than one at a time. There was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty yards, and at each turn a novel effect. To the right and left, in the middle of each wall, a tall and narrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor which pursued the windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass, whose color varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations of the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was hung, for example, in blue and vividly blue were its windows. The second chamber was purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the panes were purple. The third was green throughout, and so were the casements. The fourth was furnished and lighted with orange the fifth with white the sixth with violet. The seventh apartment was closely shrouded in black velvet tapestries, that hung all over the ceiling and down the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet of the same material and hue. But in this cham- ber only, the color of the windows failed to correspond with the dec- orations. The panes here were scarlet a deep blood-color. Now, in no one of the seven apartments was there any lamp or candelabrum ri amid the profusion of golden ornaments that lay scattered to and fro or depended from the roof. There was no light of any kind emanat- ing from lamp or candle within the suite of chambers. But in the corridors that followed the suite, there stood, opposite to each win- AMERICAN LITERATURE, (low, a heavy tiipod, bearing a brazier 12 of fire, that projected its rays through the tinted glass and so glaringly illumined the room. And thus were produced a multitude of gaudy and fantastic appearances. But in the western or black chamber the effect of the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings through the blood-tinted panes was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so wild a look upon the coun- tenances of those who entered, that there were few of the company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all. It was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western wall a gigantic clock of ebony. 13 Its pendulum swung to and fro with a dull, heavy, monotonous clang ; and when the minute hand made the circuit of the face, and the hour was to be stricken, there came from the brazen lungs of the clock a sound which was clear and loud and deep and exceedingly musical, but of so peculiar a note and emphasis that, at each lapse of an hour, the musicians of the orchestra were constrained to pause momentarily in their performance, to hearken to the sound ; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions ; and there was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company ; and, while the chimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew pale, and the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows as if in confused reverie or meditation. But when the echoes had fully ceased, a light laughter at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians looked at each other and smiled as if at their own nervous- ness and folly, and made whispering vows, each to the other, that the next chiming of the clock should produce in them no similar emotion ; and then, after the lapse of sixty minutes (which embrace three thou- sand and six hundred seconds of the Time that flies), there came yet another chiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and tremulousness and meditation as before. But, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The tastes of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colors and effects. He disregarded the decora I4 of mere fashion. His plans were bold and fiery, and his conceptions glowed with barbaric lustre. There are some who would have thought him mad. His followers felt that he was not. It was necessary to hear and see and touch him to be sure that he was not. He had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven chambers upon occasion of this great f&te ; and .it was his own guiding taste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were grotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy SELECTIONS FROM POE. 429 and phantasm much of what has been since seen in " Hernani." x s There were arabesque l6 figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. There were delirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There were much of the beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the bizarre, something of the terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust. To and fro in the seven chambers there stalked, in fact, a multitude of dreams. And these the dreams writhed in and about, taking hue from the rooms, and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the echo of their steps. And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which stands in the hall of the velvet. And then, for a moment, all is still, and all is silent save the voice of the clock. The dreams are stiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the chime die away they have endured but an instant and a light, half-subdued laughter floats after them as they depart. And now again the music swells, and the dreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever, taking hue from the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the tripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven, there are now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning away; and there flows a ruddier light through the blood-colored panes ; and the blackness of the sable drapery appalls ; and to him whose foot falls upon the sable carpet there comes from the near clock of ebony a muffled peal more sol- emnly emphatic than any which reaches their ears who indulge in the more remote gayeties of the other apartments. But these other apartments were densely crowded, in them beat feverishly the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until at length there commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And then the music ceased, as I have told ; and the evolutions of the waltzers were quieted ; and there was an uneasy cessation of all things as before. But now there were twelve strokes to be sounded by the bell of the clock ; and thus it happened, perhaps, that more of thought crept, with more of time, into the meditations of the thoughtful among those who revelled. And thus, too, it happened, perhaps, that before the last echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there were many individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to become aware of the presence of a masked figure which had arrested the atten- tion of no single individual before. And the rumor of this new pres- ence having spread itself whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole company a buzz or murmur expressive of disapproba- tion and surprise then, finally, of terror, of horror, and of disgust. 43 AMERICAN LITERATURE. In an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be supposed that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sen- sation. In truth, the masquerade license of the night was nearly un- limited ; but the figure in question had out-Heroded Herod, 17 and gone beyond the bounds of even the prince's indefinite decorum. There are chords in the hearts of the most reckless which cannot be touched without emotion. Even with the utterly lost, to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jests can be made. The whole company, indeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the costume and bearing of the stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The figure was tall and gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of the grave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest scrutiny must have had difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all this might have been endured, if not approved, by the mad revellers around. But the mummer l8 had gone so far as to assume the type of the Red Death. His vesture was dabbled in blood; and his broad brow, with all the features of the face, was besprinkled with the scarlet horror. When the eyes of Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image (which with a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain its role, stalked to and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be con- vulsed in the first moment with a strong shudder either of terror or distaste ; but, in the next, his brow reddened with rage. " Who dares? " he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood near him "who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize him and unmask him that we may know whom we have to hang at sunrise from the battlements ! " It was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince Prospero as he uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven rooms loudly and clearly ; for the prince was a bold and robust man, and the music had become hushed at the waving of his hand. It was in the blue room where stood the prince, with a group of pale courtiers by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight rushing movement of this group in the direction of the intruder, who, at the moment, was also near at hand, and now, with deliberate and stately step, made closer approach to the speaker. But from a certain nameless awe with which the mad assumptions of the mummer had inspired the whole party, there were found none who put forth hand to seize him ; so that, unimpeded, he passed within a yard of the SELECTIONS FROM POE. 431 prince's person ; and, while the vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the centres of the rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with the same solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the first, through the blue chamber to the purple through the purple to the green through the green to the orange through this again to the white and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been made to arrest him. It was then, however, that the 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 ap- proached, in rapid impetuosity, to within three or four feet of the re- treating figure, when the latter, having attained the extiemity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly and confronted his pursuer. There was a sharp cry and the dagger dropped gleaming upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterward, fell prostrate in death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of despair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the black apart- ment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in unuttera- ble horror at finding the grave cerements 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 rev- ellers 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 tripods expired. And Darkness and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all. 432 AMERICAN LITERATURE. NOTES TO POE. THE RAVEN. FOR facts connected with the publication of " The Raven," and also for a statement of Poe's poetical principles, see the preceding sketch. In a paper entitled "The Philosophy of Composition," the poet has given us a rather incredible description of the method he pursued in the com- position of "The Raven." Whatever may be thought of the truthfulness of the description (his word for it is hardly sufficient), it throws much light on the structure of the poem. The following notes are chiefly an abridgment of Poe's analysis, which the student would do well to read in full. The story in prose Poe gives as follows : "A raven, having learned by rote the single word 'Nevermore,' and having escaped from the custody of Hs owner, is driven at midnight, through the violence of a storm, to seek ad- mission at a window from which a light still gleams, the chamber-window of a student, occupied half in poring over a volume, half in dreaming of a be- loved mistress deceased. The casement being thrown open at the fluttering of the bird's wings, the bird itself perches on the most convenient seat out of the immediate reach of the student, who, amused by the incident and the oddity of the visitor's demeanor, demands of it, in jest and without looking for a reply, its name. The raven addressed answers with its customary word, ' Nevermore ' a word which finds immediate echo in the melancholy heart of the student, who, giving utterance aloud to certain thoughts suggested by the occasion, is again startled by the fowl's repetition of ' Nevermore.' The student now guesses the state of the case, but is impelled, by the human thirst for self-torture, and in part by superstition, to propound such queries to the bird as will bring him, the lover, the most of the luxury of sorrow, through the anticipated answer 'Nevermore.' " After having decided to write a poem, the first thing to be determined, Poe tells us, was its length. In order to secure unity of impression, it should not be too long to be read at a single sitting. Furthermore, it ought not to extend beyond the limits of the soul to bear intense emotion. From these considerations, he reached the conclusion, so he says, that his poem should consist of about one hundred lines. It contains, in fact, a hundred and eight. As to the impression or effect to be conveyed, Poe held that " Beauty is the sole legitimate province of the poem." The tone of its highest manifes- NOTES TO POE. 433 tation is one of sadness. " Beauty of whatever kind, in its supreme develop- ment, invariably excites the sensitive soul to tears. Melancholy is thus the most legitimate of all the poetical tones." By his usual ratiocination Poe reached the conclusion that " the death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world ; and equally is it beyond doubt that, the lips best suited for such topic are those of a bereaved lover." As to the metre, "the feet employed throughout (trochees) consist of a long syllable followed by a short : the first line of the stanza consists of eight of these feet the second of seven and a half (in effect two-thirds) the third of eight the fourth of seven and a half the fifth the same the sixth three and a half. Now, each of these lines, taken individually, has been employed before, and what originality the ' Raven ' has, is in their combina- tion into stanza; nothing even remotely approaching this combination has ever been attempted. The effect of this originality of combination is aided by other unusual, and some altogether novel effects, arising from an extension of the application of the principles of rhyme and alliteration." 1. In order to obtain " artistic piquancy," he adopted the refrain. But, he says, " I resolved to diversify, and so heighten, the effect, by adhering, in general, to the monotone of sound, while I continually varied that of thought; that is to say, I determined to produce continuously novel effects, by the va- riation of the application of the refrain the refrain itself remaining, for the most part, unvaried." 2. "I made the night tempestuous, first to account for the Raven's seek- ing admission, and secondly, for the effect of contrast with the (physical) serenity within the chamber." 3. Deeming a close circumscription of space necessary for the effect aimed at, he determined " to place the lover in his chamber in a chamber rendered sacred to him by memories of her who had frequented it. The room is represented as richly furnished this in mere pursuance of the ideas I have already explained on the subject of Beauty, as the sole true poetical thesis." 4. "The locale being thus determined, I had now to introduce the bird and the thought of introducing him through the window was inevitable. The idea of making the lover suppose, in the first instance, that the flapping of the wings of the bird against the shutter is a ' tapping ' at the door, origi- nated in a wish to increase, by prolonging, the reader's curiosity, and in a desire to admit the incidental effect arising from the lover's throwing open the door, finding all dark, and thence adopting the half-fancy that it was the spirit of his mistress that knocked." 5. "About the middle of the poem, also, I have availed myself of the force of contrast, with a view of deepening the ultimate impression. For ex- ample, an air of the fantastic approaching as nearly to the ludicrous as was 434 AMERICAN LITERATURE. admissible is given to the Raven's entrance. He comes in 'with many a flirt and flutter.' 'Not the least obeisance made Jie not a moment stopped or stayed he, But -with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.' In the two stanzas which follow, the design is more obviously carried out." 6. "I made the bird alight on the bust of Pallas, also for the effect of contrast between the marble and the plumage it being understood that the bust was absolutely suggested^ the bird the bust of Pallas being chosen, first, as most in keeping with the scholarship of the lover, and, secondly, for the sonorousness of the word Pallas itself." 7. When Poe had resolved upon the refrain, he had to decide upon the character of the word to be so used. That it must be sonorous, and suscepti- ble of protracted emphasis, admitted no doubt ; '* and " thus continues the veracious narrative "these considerations inevitably led me to the long o as the most sonorous vowel, in connection with r as the most producible consonant. " The sound of the refrain being thus determined, it became necessary to select a word embodying this sound, and at the same time in the fullest pos- sible keeping with that melancholy which I had predetermined as the tone of the poem. In such a search it would have been absolutely impossible to over- look the word ' Nevermore.' In fact, it was the very first which presented itself." The next desideratum was a pretext for the continuous use of the one word " nevermore." Its monotonous use by a human being would not, he thought, be readily reconciled with the exercise of reason. " Here, then, immediately arose the idea of a h : sug- gested by Coleridge's " Ancient Mariner." It was built up from the sicnder- est foundation of fact, and may fairly be regarded as one of Longfellow's most imaginative pieces. It is artistically wrought out in all its parts, and the verse shows more vigor than usual. The stanzas are compact, and the epithets happily chosen. The historic groundwork is found in the Round Tower of Newport and the Fall River skeleton. The theory of the Norse origin of the tower is accepted. The bold Viking says, " There for my lady's bower Built I the lofty tower, Which, to this very hour, Stands looking seaward." In digging down a hill near Fall River, a skeleton was discovered in a sitting posture. On the breast was a plate of brass, evidently intended for protective armor. The origin of the skeleton, though probably that of an Indian, has not been definitely determined. In the poem, however, it is the skeleton of the suicide Viking, " In the vast forest here, Clad in my warlike gear, Fell I upon my spear, Oh, death was grateful 1" Much of the beauty of the poem will be lost without a vivid conception of the wild life of the Vikings. Who were they ? Where did they live ? Their daring spirit is well exhibited in the poem. The " wassail-bouts " and minstrel songs introduce us to the castle-life of the mediaeval period. Almost every stanza presents a clear-cut and interesting picture. "To old-fashioned people," says Stedman, " this heroic ballad is worth a year's product of what I may term Kensington-stitch verse." 1. Skald = an ancient Scandinavian minstrel, the equivalent of bard among Celtic peoples. 2. Saga = a Scandinavian myth, or heroic story ; in a wider sense, a Jegend. 488 AMERICAN LITERATURE. 3. The Sound 'is a sea-passage between Sweden and the island of Zea- land in Denmark. In its narrowest part it is three miles wide. 4. Werewolf = a person who, according to mediaeval superstition, be- came voluntarily or involuntarily a wolf, and in that form practised cannibal- ism. Otherwise spelled werwolf. 5. Berserk = in Norse legend a warrior who fought with frenzied fury, known ar the "berserker rage." 6. Hildebrand was a common name in the legendary lore of the Teutonic race. 7. The Skaw is a cape at the northeastern extremity of Jutland in Den- mark. 8. Skoal. Of this word Longfellow said: "In Scandinavia, this is the customary salutation when drinking a health. I have slightly changed the orthography of the word, in order to preserve the correct pronunciation." THE ARSENAL AT SPRINGFIELD. In 1777 General Washington selected Springfield as a suitable location for an arsenal. Small arms were manufactured there a few years later, and since then it has become a large factory and repository. In 1843, when on his wedding journey, Longfellow visited the arsenal in company with his bride and Charles Sumner. " While Mr. Sumner was en- deavoring," says Mr. Samuel Longfellow, " to impress upon the attendant that the money expended upon those weapons of war would have been much better spent upon a large library, Mrs. Longfellow pleased her husband by remarking how like an organ looked the ranged and shining gun-barrels which covered the walls from floor to ceiling, and suggesting what mournful music Death would bring from them. ' We grew quite warlike against war,' she wrote, * and I urged H. to write a peace poem.' " The poem was written some months later. The subject took deep hold upon the poet. The poem is written with extraordinary energy. Like nearly all of Longfellow's verse, it has a moral purpose. It teaches the religion of humanity. It consists of an introduction, a rapid review of war scenes in successive ages and different countries, mourn- ful reflections on the wrong and curse of war, and concludes with the cheer- ing prophecy of the reign of universal peace. 1. Miserere a musical composition adapted to the Fifty-first Psalm. It is the first word of that Psalm in the Latin version, and means have mercy. The miserere is of frequent occurrence in the services of the Roman Church, and is one of the most expressive chants in the whole range of sacred music. 2. Saxon hammer = a weapon of attack in war used by the Saxons and NOTES TO LONGFELLOW. 489 others during the Middle Ages. The hammer usually had one blunt face, with a sharp point on the opposite side. 3. Cimbric = pertaining to the Cimbri, an ancient people of central Eu- rope. The peninsula of Jutland was named from them, the Cimbric Cherso- nese. 4. Teocalli = a. structure of earth and stone or brick, used as a temple or place of worship by the Aztecs and other aborigines of America. It was generally a solid, four-sided, truncated pyramid, built terrace-wise, with the temple proper on the platform at the summit. 5. Curse of Cain. See Gen. iv. 11-15. 6. Peace. See Mark iv. 39. THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP. As already indicated, the form of this poem is borrowed from Schiller's "Song of the Bell ; " and it is scarcely inferior to the work of the great German. The poet's heart was in his work ; and the metre and rhythm are in excellent keeping with the thought and sentiment. He had probably learned something of ship-building in Portland. The successive pictures pre- sented by the poem have been compared to instantaneous photographs. The felling of the giant pines and the terrors and mysteries of the sea are admi- rably described. The human element is no less interesting. The ship-builder, with his conscious skill and integrity, is a fine portrait. The love-story inter- woven with the main narrative gives the poem an air of tenderness. The name of the vessel suggests the American Union, and the poem concludes with a noble burst of patriotic feeling. It has been pronounced " the freshest and most stirring of our national poems." 1. Master = proprietor of a ship-yard. 2. Great Harry the first war -ship of the British navy, built in 1438. 3. Crank = liable to careen or be capsized. 4. Knarred '= gnarled, knotty. 5. Pascagoula Bay is in the southeastern part of Mississippi. The river of the same name, which empties into the bay, runs through a sandy region of pine forests. 6. Roanoke = a river of Virginia and North Carolina, emptying into Albemarle Sound. It rises in the Alleghany Mountains, and in its course in Virginia may, with some justice, be characterized as " roaring." 7. Slip = an inclined plane on the bank of a river or harbor, intended for ship-building. 8. Keel= the principal timber in a ship, extending from stem to stern at the bottom. 9. Lascar = a native sailor employed in European vessels in East India. 49 AMERICAN LITER A TURE. 10. Stemson a piece of curved timber fixed on the after part of the apron inside. The lower end is scarfed into the keelson, and receives the scarf of the stem, through which it is bolted. Keelson = a beam running lengthwise above the keel of the ship, and bolted to the middle of the floor- frames, in order to stiffen the vessel. Stermon = the end of a ship's keelson, to which the stern-post is bolted. 1 1 . The Fortunate Isles, according to the ancients, were located off the western coast of Africa. Their name is due to their remarkable beauty, a'nd the abundance of all things desirable which they were supposed to contain. By some they are identified with the Canaries. 12. Master = Washington. The workmen referred to in the next line are the statesmen who assisted in organizing our government. SELECTIONS FROM LOWELL. 491 XIV. SELECTIONS FROM LOWELL. WHAT MR. ROBINSON THINKS. GUVENER B. 1 is a sensible man ; He stays to his home an' looks arter his folks ; He draws his furrer ez straight ez he can, An' into nobody's tater-patch pokes ; But John P. Robinson he Sez he wunt vote fer Guvener B. My ! aint it terrible ? What shall we du ? We can't never choose him o' course, thet's flat ; Guess we shall hev to come round, (don't you ?) An' go in fer thunder an' guns, an' all that ; Fer John P. Robinson he Sez he wunt vote fer Guvener B. Gineral C. 2 is a dreffle smart man : He's ben on all sides thet give places or pelf, But consistency still wuz a part of his plan, He's ben true to one party, an' thet is himself; So John P. Robinson he Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C. Gineral C. he goes in fer the war ; He don't vally principle more'n an old cud ; Wut did God make us raytional creeturs fer, But glory an' gunpowder, plunder an' blood ? So John P. Robinson lie Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C. 49 2 AMERICAN LITERATURE. We were gittin' on nicely up here to our village, 5 With good old idees o' wut's right an' wut aint, We kind o' thought Christ went agin 1 war an 1 pillage, An' thet eppyletts worn't the best mark of a saint ; But John P. Robinson he Sez this kind o' thing's an exploded idee. The side of our country must oilers be took, An' President Polk, you know, he is our country; An 7 the angel thet writes all our sins in a book Puts the debit to him, an' to us the/" and " arabesques.' 1 ' 1 15. Corbel = a short piece of timber or other material jutting out in a wall as a shoulder-piece. 5IO AMERICAN LITERATURE. 16. Yule-log = Christmas-log ; that is, the large log burned in the fire- place on Christmas Eve. The custom descended from heathen times. From Swedish and Danish jul, Christmas. 17. Beautiful Gate is apparently a reference to Acts iii. 2, and Josephus ("The Jewish War," Book V., chap, v., 3), where a magnificent column, fifty cubits in height, is described in connection with a gate supposed by some to be the "gate Beautiful " of Scripture. 18. This lesson of human sympathy and love is one that Lowell frequently enforces. In "A Parable," Christ is made to say to the chief priests and rulers and kings : " Have ye founded your thrones and altars, then, On the bodies and souls of living men ? And think ye that building shall endure, Which shelters the noble and crushes the poor?" 19. In his "My Garden Acquaintances," Lowell devotes a delightful paragraph to the oriole, or hangbird, mentioning especially its nest in the elm. SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER. 511 XV. SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER. MEMORIES. A BEAUTIFUL and happy girl, With step as light as summer air, Eyes glad with smiles, and brow of pearl, Shadowed by many a careless curl Of unconfined and flowing hair, A seeming child in everything, Save thoughtful brow and ripening charms, As Nature wears the smile of Spring When sinking into Summer's arms. A mind rejoicing in the light Which melted through its graceful bower, Leaf after leaf, dew-moist and bright, And stainless in its holy white, Unfolding like a morning flower : l A heart, which, like a fine-toned lute, With every breath of feeling woke, And, even when the tongue was mute, From eye and lip in music spoke. How thrills once more the lengthening chain Of memory, at the thought of thee ! Old hopes which long in dust have lain, Old dreams, come thronging back again, And boyhood lives again in me ; I feel its glow upon my cheek, Its fulness of the heart is mine, As when I leaned to hear thee speak, Or raised my doubtful eye to thine. 512 AMERICAN LITERATURE. I hear again thy low replies, I feel thy arm within my own, And timidly again uprise The fringed lids of hazel eyes, With soft brown tresses overblown. Ah ! memories of sweet summer eves, Of moonlit wave and willowy way, Of stars and flowers, and dewy leaves, And smiles and tones more dear than they ! Ere this, thy quiet eye hath smiled My picture of thy youth to see, When, half a woman, half a child, Thy very artlessness beguiled, And folly's self seemed wise in thee ; I too can smile, when o'er that hour The lights of memory backward stream, Yet feel the while that manhood's power Is vainer than my boyhood's dream. Years have passed on, and left their trace, Of graver care and deeper thought ; And unto me the calm, cold face Of manhood, and to thee the grace Of woman's pensive beauty brought. More wide, perchance, for blame than praise, The school-boy's humble name has flown ; Thine, in the green and quiet ways Of unobtrusive goodness known. And wider yet in thought and deed Diverge our pathways, one in youth; Thine the Genevan's sternest creed, 2 While answers to my spirit's need The Derby dalesman's simple truth. 3 For thee, the priestly rite and prayer, And holy day and solemn psalm ; For me, the silent reverence where My brethren gather, slow and calm. SELECTIONS FKOM WHITTIER. 513 Yet hath thy spirit left on me An impress Time hath worn not out, And something of myself in thee, A shadow from the past, I see, Lingering, even yet, thy way about ; Not wholly can the heart unlearn That lesson of its better hours, Not yet hath Time's dull footstep worn To common dust that path of flowers. Thus, while at times before our eyes The shadows melt, and fall apart, And, smiling through them, round us lies The warm light of our morning skies, The Indian Summer of the heart ! In secret sympathies of mind, In founts of feeling which retain Their pure, fresh flow, we yet may find Our early dreams not wholly vain ! THE SHIP-BUILDERS. THE sky is ruddy in the east, The earth is gray below, And, spectral in the river-mist, The ship's white timbers show. Then let the sounds of measured stroke And grating saw begin ; The broad-axe to the gnarled oak, The mallet to the pin ! Hark ! roars the bellows, blast on blast, The sooty smithy * jars, And fire-sparks, rising far and fast, Are fading with the stars. All day for us the smith shall stand Beside that flashing forge ; AH day for us his heavy hand The groaning anvil scourge.* 514 AMERICAN LITERATURE. From far-off hills, the panting team For us is toiling near ; For us the raftsmen down the stream Their island barges 3 steer. Rings out for us the axe-man's stroke In forests old and still, For us the century-circled oak Falls crashing down his hill. Up! up! in nobler toil than ours No craftsmen bear a part : We make of Nature's giant powers The slaves of human Art. 4 Lay rib to rib, and beam to beam, And drive the treenails 5 free ; Nor faithless joint nor yawning seam Shall tempt the searching sea ! Where'er the keel of our good ship, The sea's rough field shall plough, Where'er her tossing spars 6 shall drip With salt-spray caught below, That ship must heed her master's beck, Her helm obey his hand, And seamen tread her reeling deck As if they trod the land. Her oaken ribs the vulture-beak Of Northern ice may peel ; The sunken rock and coral peak May grate along her keel ; And know we well the painted shell We give to wind and wave, Must float, the sailor's citadel, Or sink, the sailor's grave ! Ho ! strike away the bars and blocks, And set the good ship free ! Why lingers on these dusty rocks The young bride of the sea? SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER. 515 Look ! how she moves adown the grooves, In graceful beauty now ! How lowly on the breast she loves Sinks down her virgin prow ! God bless her ! wheresoe'er the breeze Her snowy wing shall fan, Aside the frozen 7 Hebrides, Or sultry Hindostan! Where'er, in mart or on the main, With peaceful flag unfurled, She helps to wind the silken chain Of commerce round the world ! Speed on the ship ! But let her bear No merchandise of sin, No groaning cargo of despair Her roomy hold within ; No Lethean drug for Eastern lands, Nor poison-draught for ours ; But honest fruits of toiling hands And Nature's sun and showers. 8 Be hers the Prairie's golden grain, The Desert's golden sand, The clustered fruits of sunny Spain, The spice of Morning-land ! Her pathway on the open main May blessings follow free, And glad hearts welcome back again Her white sails from the sea ! BARCLAY OF URY. UP the streets of Aberdeen, 1 By the kirk and college green, Rode the Laird of Ury ; Close behind him, close beside, Foul of mouth and evil-eyed Pressed the mob in fury. 516 AMERICAN LITERATURE. Flouted him the drunken churl, 'Jeered at him the serving-girl, Prompt to please her master ; And the begging carlin, 2 late Fed and clothed at Ury's gate, Cursed him as he passed her. Yet with calm and stately mien, Up the streets of Aberdeen Came he slowly riding : And, to all he saw and heard, Answering not with bitter word, Turning not for chiding. Came a troop with broadswords swinging, Bits and bridles sharply ringing, Loose and free and froward : Quoth the foremost, " Ride him down ! Push him ! prick him ! through the town Drive the Quaker coward !" But from out the thickening crowd Cried a sudden voice and loud : " Barclay ! Ho ! a Barclay ! * And the old man at his side Saw a comrade, battle tried, Scarred and sunburned darkly ; Who with ready weapon bare, Fronting to the troopers there, Cried aloud : " God save us, Call ye coward him who stood Ankle deep in Lutzen's 3 blood, With the brave Gustavus ? " " Nay, I do not need thy sword, Comrade mine," said Ury's lord; " Put it up, I pray thee: Passive to his holy will, Trust I in my Master still, Even though he slay me. SELECTIONS FROM WHlTTtER. 517 '* Pledges of thy love and faith, Proved on many a field of death, Not by me are needed." Marvelled much that henchman bold, That his laird, so stout of old, Now so meekly pleaded. " Woe's the day ! " he sadly said, With a slowly shaking head, And a look of pity ; Ury's honest lord reviled, Mock of knave and sport of child, In his own good city ! ' Speak the word, and master, mine, As we charged on Tilly's 4 line, And his Walloon 5 lancers, Smiting through their midst we'll teach Civil look and decent speech To these boyish prancers ! " " Marvel not, mine ancient friend, Like beginning, like the end : " Quoth the Laird of Ury, " Is the sinful servant more Than his gracious Lord who bore Bonds and stripes in Jewry ? " Give me joy that in his name I can bear, with patient frame, All these vain ones offer; While for them He suffereth long, Shall I answer wrong with wrong, Scoffing with the scoffer? Happier I, with loss of all, Hunted, outlawed, held in thrall, With few friends to greet me, Than when reeve 6 and squire were seen, Riding out from Aberdeen, With bared heads to meet me. 5 1 8 AMERICAN LITER A TURE. '* When each good wife, o'er and o'er, Blessed me as I passed her door ; And the snooded 7 daughter, From her casement glancing down, Smiled on him who bore renown From red fields of slaughter. " Hard to feel the stranger's scoff, Hard the old friend's falling off, Hard to learn forgiving : But the Lord his own rewards, And his love with theirs accords, Warm and fresh and living. " Through this dark and stormy night Faith beholds a feeble light Up the blackness streaking ; Knowing God's own time ; best, In a patient hope I rest For the full day-breaking ! w So the Laird of Ury said, Turning slow his horse's head Towards the Tolbooth prison, Where, through iron grates, he heard Poor disciples of the Word Preach of Christ arisen ! Not in vain, Confessor old, Unto us the tale is told Of thy day of trial ; Every age on him, who strays From its broad and beaten ways, Pours its sevenfold vial. Happy he whose inward ear Angel comfortings can hear, O'er the rabble's laughter ; And while Hatred's fagots burn, Glimpses through the smoke discern Of the good hereafter. SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER. 519 Knowing this, that never yet Share of Truth was vainly set In the World's wide fallow ; After hands shall sow the seed, After hands from hill and mead Reap the harvests yellow. Thus, with somewhat of the Seer, Must the moral pioneer From the Future borrow ; Clothe the waste with dreams of grain, And, on midnight's sky of rain, Paint the golden morrow I MAUD MULLER. MAUD MULLER on a summer's day Raked the meadow sweet with hay. Beneath her torn hat glowed the wealth Of simple beauty and rustic health. Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee The mock-bird echoed from his tree. But when she glanced to the far-off town, White from its hill-slope looking down, The sweet song died, and a vague unrest And a nameless longing filled her breast, A wish, that she hardly dared to own, For something better than she had known. The Judge rode slowly down the lane, Smoothing his horse's chestnut mane. He drew his bridle in the shade Of the apple-trees, to greet the maid, 52O AMERICAN LITERATURE. And asked a draught from the spring that flowed Through the meadow across the road. She stooped where the cool spring bubbled up, And rilled for him her small tin cup, And blushed as she gave it, looking down On her feet so bare, and her tattered gown. " Thanks ! * said the Judge ; " a sweeter draught From a fairer hand was never quaffed." - He spoke of the grass and flowers and trees, Of the singing birds and the humming bees ; Then talked of the haying, and wondered whether The cloud in the west would bring foul weather. And Maud forgot her brier-torn gown, And her graceful ankles bare and brown ; And listened, while a pleased surprise Looked from her long-lashed hazel eyes. At last, like one who for delay Seeks a vain excuse, he rode away. Maud Muller looked and sighed : " Ah me ! That I the Judge's bride might be ! " He would dress me up in silks so fine, And praise and toast me at his wine. ** My father should wear a broadcloth coat ; My brother should sail a painted boat. " I'd dress my mother so grand and gay, And the baby should have a new toy each day. " And I'd feed the hungry and clothe the poor, And all should bless me who left our door." SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER. $21 The Judge looked back as he climbed the hill, And saw Maud Muller standing still. " A form more fair, a face more sweet Ne'er hath it been my lot to meet. " And her modest answer and graceful air Show her wise and good as she is fair. " Would she were mine, and I to-day, Like her, a harvester of hay : '* No doubtful balance of rights and wrongs, Nor weary lawyers with endless tongues, " But low of cattle and song of birds, And health and quiet and loving words." But he thought of his sisters proud and cold, And his mother vain of her rank and gold. So, closing his heart, the Judge rode on, And Maud was left in the field alone. But the lawyers smiled that afternoon, When he hummed in court an old love-tune ; And the young girl mused beside the well Till the rain on the \inraked clover fell. He wedded a wife of richest dower, Who lived for fashion as he for power. Yet oft, in his marble hearth's bright glow, He watched a picture come and go ; And sweet Maud Muller's hazel eyes Looked out in their innocent surprise. Oft, when the wine in his glass was red, He longed for the wayside well instead ; 522 AMERICAN LITERATURE. And closed his eyes on his garnished rooms To dream of meadows and clover-blooms. And the proud man sighed, with a secret pain, "Ah, that I were free again ! " Free as when I rode that day, Where the barefoot maiden raked her hay." She wedded a man unlearned and poor, And many children played round her doc*. But care and sorrow, and childbirth pain, Left their traces on heart and brain. And oft, when the summer sun shone hot On the new-mown hay in the meadow lot, And she heard the little spring brook fall Over the roadside, through the wall, In the shade of the apple-tree again She saw a rider draw his rein. And, gazing down with timid grace, She felt his pleased eyes read her face. Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls Stretched away into stately halls ; The weary wheel to a spinnet l turned, The tallow candle an astral 2 burned, And for him who sat by the chimney lug, Dozing and grumbling o'er pipe and mug, A manly form at her side she saw, And joy was duty and love was law. Then she took up her burden of life again, Saying only, " It might have been." SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER. 523 Alas for maiden, alas for Judge, For rich repiner and household drudge God pity. them both ! and pity us all, Who vainly the dreams of youth recall. For of all sad words of tongue or pen, The saddest are these : " It might have been!" Ah, well ! for us all some sweet hope lies Deeply buried from human eyes ; And, in the hereafter, angels may Roll the stone from its grave away ! TAULER. TAULER, 1 the preacher, walked, one autumn day, Without the walls of Strasburg by the Rhine, Pondering the solemn Miracle of Life ; As one who, wandering in a starless night, Feels, momently, the jar of unseen waves, And hears the thunder of an unknown sea, Breaking along an unimagined shore. And as he walked he prayed. Even the same Old prayer with which, for half a score of years, Morning, and noon, and evening, lip and heart Had groaned : " Have pity upon me, Lord ! Thou seest, while teaching others, I am blind. Send me a man who can direct my steps ! " Then, as he mused, he heard along his path A sound as of an old man's staff among The dry, dead linden-leaves ; and, looking up, He saw a stranger, weak, and poor, and old. " Peace be unto thee, father !" Tauler said, " God give thee a good day ! " The old man raised Slowly his calm blue eyes. " I thank thee, son; But all my days are good, and none are ill." 524 AMERICAN LITERATURE. Wondering thereat, the preacher spake again, " God give thee happy life. 11 The old man smiled, *' I never am unhappy. 11 Tauler laid His hand upon the strangers coarse gray sleeve : " Tell me, O father, what thy strange words mean. Surely man's days are evil, and his life Sad as the grave it leads to. 11 " Nay, my son, Our times are in God's hands, and all our days Are as our needs ; for shadow as for sun, For cold as heat, for want as wealth, alike Our thanks are due, since that is best which is ; And that which is not, sharing not his life, Is evil only as devoid of good. And for the happiness of which I spake, I find it in submission to his will, And calm trust in the holy Trinity Of Knowledge, Goodness, and Almighty Power." Silently wondering, for a little space, Stood the great preacher, then he spake as one Who, suddenly grappling with a haunting thought Which long has followed, whispering through the dark Strange terrors, drags it, shrieking, into light ; " What if God's will consign thee hence to Hell ?" " Then, 1 ' said the stranger cheerily, " be it so. What Hell may be I know not ; this I know, I cannot lose the presence of the Lord : One arm, Humility, takes hold upon His dear Humanity ; the other, Love, Clasps his Divinity. So where I go He goes ; and better fire-walled Hell with Him Than golden-gated Paradise without" Tears sprang in Tauler's eyes. A sudden light, Like the first ray which fell on chaos, clove Apart the shadow wherein he had walked Darkly at noon. And, as the strange old man Went his slow way, until his silver hair SELECTIONS FROM WHITTIER. 525 Set like the white moon where the hills of vine Slope to the Rhine, he bowed his head and said : " My prayer is answered. God hath sent the man Long sought, to teach me, by his simple trust, Wisdom the weary schoolmen never knew." So, entering with a changed and cheerful step The city gates, he saw, far down the street, A mighty shadow break the light of noon, Which tracing backward till its airy lines Hardened to stony plinths, 2 he raised his eyes O'er broad faade and lofty pediment, 3 O'er architrave 4 and frieze and sainted niche, Up the stone lace-work chiselled by the wise Erwin of Steinbach, 5 dizzily up to where In the noon-brightness the great Minsters tower, 6 Jewelled with sunbeams on its mural crown, Rose like a visible prayer. " Behold ! " he said, "The stranger's faith made plain before mine eyes. As yonder tower outstretches to the earth The dark triangle of its shade alone When the clear day is shining on its top, So, darkness in the pathway of Man's life Is but the shadow of God's providence, By the great Sun of Wisdom cast thereon ; And what is dark below is light in Heaven." 526 AMERICAN LITERATURE. NOTES TO WHITTIER. FOR a general introduction to the selections, see the sketch of Whittier. MEMORIES. There is great tenderness in this poem. It points to a romance that left a tinge of sadness on the poet's life. 1. This sentence is neither felicitous nor clear. The poet was encum- bered by the difficulties of his metre and rhyme. "Leaf after leaf," etc., describes the manner in which the mind unfolded " like a morning flower." 2. The Genevan is John Calvin. His theological system is known as Calvinism. Its distinguishing features are : I. Original sin, or total depravity ; 2. Predestination ; 3. Particular redemption; 4. Effectual calling; and 5. Per- severance of the saints. To the Quaker poet several of these doctrines ap- peared " stern." 3. The Derby dalesman is George Fox (born in England in 1624), the founder of the sect of Friends, or Quakers. The most distinctive point of doctrine is their belief in the immediate influence of the Holy Spirit in worship and all other religious acts. THE SHIP-BUILDERS. This poem is one of the " Songs of Labor." The object of these songs, as stated in the dedication, is to show: "The unsung beauty hid life's common things below." They were intended to reflect the life of New England, but they are equally applicable to the same labors in all parts of our country. 1. Smithy = the shop of a smith. This suggests Longfellow's lines: " Under a spreading chestnut-tree The village smithy stands." 2. Scourge and forge will serve to illustrate Whittier's defective rhyme. There are several other instances in this poem ; point them out. 3. Explain the phrase island barges. 4. Define Art as here used. 5. Treenail ' = a long wooden pin used in fastening the planks of a ship to the timbers. NOTES TO WHITTIER. $2? 6. Spars is a general term for mast, yard, boom, and gaff. 7. This adjective is not well chosen. " Enjoying the benefit of the Gulf Stream, the climate of the Hebrides is peculiarly mild. Snow seldom lies long on the sea-shores or low grounds, and in sheltered spots tender plants are not nipped by winter frosts." 8. In this stanza we discern the uncompromising moralist, who condemns everything that debases society, the slave-trade, the opium traffic, and the liquor curse. BARCLAY OF URY. In reference to this poem, Whittier has the following note : " Among the earliest converts to the doctrines of Friends in Scotland was Barclay of Ury, an old and distinguished soldier, who had fought under Gustavus Adolphus in Germany. As a Quaker, he became the object of persecution and abuse at the hands of the magistrates and the populace. None bore the indignities of the mob with greater patience and nobleness of soul than this once proud gentleman and soldier. One of his friends, on an occasion of uncommon rudeness, lamented that he should be treated so harshly in his old age who had been so honored before. ' I find more satisfaction,' said Barclay, ' as well as honor, in being thus insulted for my religious principles, than when, a few years ago, it was usual for the magistrates, as I passed the city of Aberdeen, to meet me on the road and conduct me to public entertainment in their hall, and then escort me out again, to gain my favor.' " 1. Aberdeen is the chief city and seaport in the north of Scotland, at the mouth of the river Dee. It is the seat of Marischal College, referred to in the next line. In 1860 this college, united with King's College, became the University of Aberdeen. 2. Carlin = a stout old woman ; a Scottish word. 3. Lutzen is a small town in Saxony. At this point a great battle was fought in 1632 between Gustavus Adolphus and Wallensteih. Victory finally remained with the Swedes. 4. Tilly was one of the greatest generals of the seventeenth century. During the Thirty Years' War he was victor in thirty-six battles ; but finally he met Gustavus Adolphus, by whom he was defeated. 5. The Walloons are descendants of the old Gallic Belgge, "who held their ground among the Ardennes Mountains when the rest of Gaul was over- run by the German conquerors." They number about two millions in Bel- gium and Holland. 6. Reeve = an officer, steward. A. S. gerefa, steward. Obsolete except in compounds; as, shire-reeve, now written sheriff. 7. Snooded = wearing a snood ; that is, a band which binds the hair of a young, unmarried woman. (Scot.) $28 AMERICAN LITERATURE. MAUD MULLER. This is, perhaps, the most popular of Whittier's poems. It is remarkably clear throughout. It illustrates the thoughtful moral tone of the poet; and the last stanzas, with their touching sadness, seem to have sprung from his own experience. This fact gives them an additional interest. The poet has been mildly criticised for calling the heroine, a plain New England country girl, by the name of Maud ; but it is not easy to think of any other name that would have suited better. 1. Spinnet = a. musical instrument resembling the harpsichord, but of smaller size and lighter tone. 2. Astral astral lamp; a lamp with a ring-shaped reservoir so placed that its shadow does not fall directly below the flame. TAULER. "The religious element in Whittier's poems," says Underwood, "is s Dmething vital and inseparable. The supremacy of moral ideas is indeed in- culcated by almost all great poets, and at no time more than in the present. And in almost all modern verse the filial relation of man to his Creator, and the immanence of the Spirit in the human heart, are at least tacitly recognized. The leading poets of America are, one and all, reverent in feeling and tone. But it is quite evident that Whittier alone is religious in a high and inward s*nse." His deep religious feeling is exhibited in this poem. . i. John Tauler (1290-1361) was born at Strasburg, where he spent most of his life. He was one of the most prominent representatives of medi- aeval German mysticism, and one of the greatest preachers of his time. His words " came home to the heart of both high and low, spreading light every- where, and justly procuring for him the title of doctor illumtnatus." 2. Plinth = " the square member at the bottom of the base of a column. Also the plain projecting band forming a base of a wall." CHAMBERS. 3. Pediment = the triangular ornamental space over a portico, or over doors, windows, and gates. 4. Architrave the part of an entablature that rests immediately on the column. Above the architrave is the frieze. See Dictionary for illustration. 5. Erwin of Steinbach was one of the architects of the Strasburg Cathe- dral, which was four centuries in building. 6. This tower reaches to a height of 465 feet. SELECTIONS FROM HOLMES. 529 XVI. SELECTIONS FROM HOLMES. OLD IRONSIDES. 1 AY, tear her tattered ensign down ! Long has it waved on high, And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky ; Beneath it rung the battle shout, And burst the cannon's roar ; The meteor of the ocean air Shall sweep the clouds no more ! Her deck, once red with heroes' blood, Where knelt the vanquished foe, When winds were hurrying o'er the flood And waves were white below, No more shall feel the victor's tread, Or know the conquered knee ; The harpies 2 of the shore shall pluck The eagle of the sea. O better that her shattered hulk Should sink beneath the wave ; Her thunders shook the mighty deep, And there should be her grave ; Nail to the mast her holy flag, Set every threadbare sail, And give her to the god of storms, 3 The lightning and the gale. 53O AMERICAN LITERATURE. THE LAST LEAF. I SAW him once before, As he passed by the door, And again The pavement stones resound, As he totters o'er the ground With his cane. They say that in his prime, Ere the pruning-knife of Time Cut him down, Not a better man was found By the Crier on his round Through the town. But now he walks the streets, And he looks at all he meets Sad and wan, And he shakes his feeble head, That it seems as if he said, " They are gone." The mossy marbles rest On the lips that he has prest In their bloom, And the names he loved to hear Have been carved for many a year On the tomb. My grandmamma has said Poor old lady, she is dead Long ago That he had a Roman nose, And his cheek was like a rose In the snow. But now his nose is thin, And it rests upon his chin Like a staff, SELECTIONS FROM HOLMES. 53 J And a crook is in his back, And a melancholy crack In his laugh. I know it is a sin For me to sit and grin At him here ; But the old three-cornered hat, And the breeches, and all that, Are so queer ! And if I should live to be The last leaf upon the tree In the spring, Let them smile, as I do now, At the old forsaken bough Where I cling. THE HEIGHT OF THE RIDICULOUS. I WROTE some lines once on a time In wondrous merry mood, And thought, as usual, men would say They were exceeding good. They were so queer, so very queer, I laughed as I would die ; Albeit, in the general way, A sober man am I. I called my servant, and he came ; How kind it was of him To mind a slender man like me, He of the mighty limb ! ' These to the printer," I exclaimed, And, in my humorous way, I added (as a trifling jest) " There'll be the devil to pay." 532 AMERICAN LITERATURE. He took the paper, and I watched, And saw him peep within ; At the first line he read, his face Was all upon the grin. He read the next ; the grin grew broad, And shot from ear to ear ; He read the third ; a chuckling noise I now began to hear. The fourth ; he broke into a roar ; The fifth ; his waistband split ; The sixth ; he burst five buttons off, And tumbled in a fit. Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye, I watched that wretched man ; And since, I never dare to write As funny as I can. THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS. THIS is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, Sails the unshadowed main, The venturous bark that flings On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings In gulfs enchanted, where the Siren * sings, And coral reefs lie bare, Where the cold sea-maids 2 rise to sun their streaming hair. Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl ; 3 Wrecked is the ship of pearl ! And every chambered cell, Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell, As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell, Before thee lies revealed,- Its irised ceiling rent, its sunless crypt unsealed { SELECTIONS FRuM HOLMES. 533 Year after year beheld the silent toil That spread his lustrous coil ; Still, as the spiral grew, He left the past year's dwelling for the new, Stole with soft step its shining archway through, Built up its idle door, 4 Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more. Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, Child of the wandering sea, Cast from her lap forlorn ! From thy dead lips a clearer note is born Than ever Triton 5 blew from wreathed horn ! While on mine ear it rings, Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings : Build thee more stately mansions, O 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 ! CONTENTMENT. LITTLE I ask ; my wants are few ; I only wish a hut of stone, (A very plain brown stone will do,) That I may call my own ; And close at hand is such a one, In yonder street that fronts the sun. Plain food is quite enough for me ; Three courses are as good as ten ; If Nature can subsist on three, Thank Heaven for three. Amen ! I always thought cold victual nice ; My choice would be vanilla-ice. 534 AMERICAN LITERATURE. I care not much for gold or land ; Give me a mortgage here and there, Some good bank-stock, some note of hand, Or trifling railroad share ; I only ask that Fortune send A little more than I shall spend. Honors are silly toys, I know, And titles are but empty names ; I would, perhaps, be Plenipo, 1 But only near St. James : 2 I'm very sure I should not care To fill our Gubernator's chair. Jewels are bawbles ; 'tis a sin To care for such unfruitful things ; One good-sized diamond in a pin, Some, not so large, in rings, A ruby, and a pearl, or so, Will do for me ; I laugh at show. My dame should dress in cheap attire ; (Good, heavy silks are never dear) ; I own perhaps I might desire Some shawls of true Cashmere, Some marrowy crapes of China silk, Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk. I would not have the horse I drive So fast that fol-ks must stop and stare : An easy gait two, forty-five Suits me ; I do not care ; Perhaps, for just a single spurt, Some seconds less would do no hurt 3 Of pictures, I should like to own Titians 4 and Raphaels 5 . three or four, I love so much their style and tone, One Turner, 6 and no more, (A landscape, foreground golden dirt, The sunshine painted with a squirt). SELECTIONS FROM HOLMES. 535 Of books but few, some fifty score For daily use, and bound for wear ; The rest upon an upper floor ; Some little luxury there Of red morocco's gilded gleam, And vellum rich as country cream. Busts, cameos, gems, such things as these, Which others often show for pride, / value for their power to please, And selfish churls deride ; One Stradivarius, 7 I confess, Two Meerschaums, I would fain possess. Wealth's wasteful tricks I will not learn, Nor ape the glittering upstart fool ; Shall not carved tables serve my turn, But all must be of buhl ? 8 Give grasping pomp its double share, I ask but one recumbent chair. Thus humble let me live and die, Nor long for Midas' 9 golden touch ; If Heaven more generous gifts deny, I shall not miss them much, Too grateful for the blessing lent Of simple tastes and mind content. THE DEACON'S MASTERPIECE; OR, THE WONDERFUL "ONE-Hoss SHAY." A LOGICAL STORY. HAVE you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay, That was built in such a logical way It ran a hundred years to a day, And then, of a sudden, it ah, but stay, I'll tell you what hapoened without delay, 536 AMERICAN LITERATURE. Scaring the parson into fits, Frightening people out of their wits, Have you ever heard of that, I say? Seventeen hundred and fifty-five, Geor gius Secundus was then alive, Snuffy old drone from the German hive ; That was the year when Lisbon-town Saw the earth open and gulp her down, And Braddock's army was done so brown, Left without a scalp to its crown. It was on the terrible Earthquake-day That the Deacon finished the one-hoss shay. Now in building of chaises, I tell you what, There is always somewhere a weakest spot, In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill, In panel, or crossbar, or floor, or sill, In screw, bolt, thoroughbrace, lurking still, Find it somewhere you must and will, Above or below, within or without, And that's the reason, beyond a doubt, That a chaise breaks down, but doesn't wear out. But the Deacon swore, (as Deacons do, With an " I dew vum," or an "I tellj^?/*,") He would build one shay to beat the taown V the keounty 'n' all the kentry raoun' ; It should be so built that it couldn't break daown ; " Fur," said the Deacon, " t's mighty plain That the weakes' place mus' stan 1 the strain ; 'n' the way t 1 fix it, uz I maintain, Is only jist T' make that place uz strong uz the rest." So the Deacon inquired of the village folk Where he could find the strongest oak, That couldn't be split nor bent nor broke, That was for spokes and floor and sills ; He sent for lancewood to make the thills ; SELECTIONS FROM HOLMES. 537 The crossbars were ash, from the straightest trees, The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese, But lasts like iron for things like these ; The hubs of logs from the " Settler's ellum," Last of its timber, they couldn't sell 'em, Never an axe had seen their chips, And the wedges flew from between their lips, Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips ; Step and prop-iron, bolt and screw, Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too, Steel of the finest, bright and blue ; Thorotighbrace bison-skin, thick and wide ; Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide Found in the pit when the tanner died. That was the way he " put her through." " There ! " said the Deacon, " naow she'll dew ! " Do ! I tell you, I rather guess She was a wonder, and nothing less Colts grew horses, beards turned gray, Deacon and deaconess dropped away, Children and grandchildren where were they ? But there stood the stout old one-hoss shay As fresh as on Lisbon-earthquake-day ! % EIGHTEEN HUNDRED ; it came and found The Deacon's masterpiece strong and sound. Eighteen hundred increased by ten ; " Hahnsum kerridge" they called it then. Eighteen hundred and twenty came; Running as usual ; much the same. Thirty and forty at last arrive, And then came fifty, and FIFTY-FIVE. Little of all we value here Wakes on the morn of its hundredth year Without both feeling and looking queer. In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth, So far as I know, but a tree and truth. 538 AMERICAN LITERATURE. (This is a moral that runs at large ; Take it. You're welcome. No extra charge.) FIRST OF NOVEMBER, the Earthquake-daj. There are traces of age in the one-hoss shay, A general flavor of mild decay, But nothing local, as one may say. There couldn't be, for the Deacon's art Had made it so like in every part That there wasn't a chance for one to start. For the wheels were just as strong as the thills, And the floor was just as strong as the sills, And the panels just as strong as the floor, And the whipple-tree neither less nor more, And the back-crossbar as strong as the fore, And spring and axle and hub encore. And yet, as a whole, it is past a doubt, In another hour it will be worn out! First of November, 'Fifty-five ! This morning the parson takes a drive. Now, small boys, get out of the way ! Here comes the wonderful one-hoss shay, Drawn by a rat-tailed, ewe-necked bay. " Huddup ! " said the parson. Off went they. The parson was working his Sunday's text, Had got to fifthly, and stopped perplexed At what the Moses was coming next. All at once the horse stood still, Close by the meet'n'-house on the hill. First a shiver, and then a thrill, Then something decidedly like a spill, And the parson was sitting upon a rock, At half past nine by the meet'n'-house clock, Just the hour of the Earthquake shock ! What do you think the parson found, When he got up and stared around? The poor old chaise in a heap or mound, As if it had been to the mill and ground ! SELECTIONS FROM HOLMES. 539 You see, of course, if you're not a dunce, How it went to pieces all at once, All at once, and nothing first, Just as bubbles do when they burst. End of the wonderful one-hoss shay. Logic is logic. That's all I say. 54 AMERICAN LJJ'E MATURE. NOTES TO HOLMES. FOR a general introduction to the selections, see the sketch of Holmes. OLD IRONSIDES. The interesting circumstances connected with the publication of this poem are mentioned in the sketch of Holmes. 1 . This title was popularly conferred on the frigate Constitution in rec- ognition of her numerous victories. She was launched at Boston in 1797 She took a prominent part in the bombardment of Tripoli in 1804, and es- pecially distinguished herself in the War of 1812. " In the course of two years and nine months," says James Fenimore Cooper, "this ship had been in three actions, had been twice critically chased, and had captured five ves- sels of war. In all her service, her good fortune was remarkable. She never was dismasted, never got ashore, and scarcely ever suffered any of the usual accidents of the sea. Though so often in battle, no very serious slaughter ever took place on board her." 2. Harpy = in mythology a fabulous winged monster, ravenous and filthy, having the face of a woman and the body of a vulture, with long claws, and with a face pale with hunger. Hence, one that is rapacious or ravenous ; a plunderer. 3. God of storms = Neptune, the god of the sea. The symbol of his power was a trident, with which he raised and stilled storms. THE LAST LEAF. This poem illustrates the mingled humor and pathos of Holmes. " Is there in all literature," queries his biographer, Morse, " a lyric in which droll- ery, passing nigh unto ridicule, yet stopping short of it, and sentiment becom- ing pathos, yet not too profound, are so exquisitely intermingled as in ' The Last Leaf '? To spill into the mixture the tiniest fraction of a drop too much of either ingredient was to ruin all. How skilfully, how daintily, how uner- ringly Dr. Holmes compounded it, all readers of English know well. It was a light and trifling bit, if you will ; but how often has it made the smile and the tear dispute for mastery, in a rivalry which is never quite decided ! " NOTES TO HOLMES. 541 THE HEIGHT OF THE RIDICULOUS. The poet's comic vein reaches its climax in this bit of extravaganza There are several personal touches in it. His feelings toward the public were so kindly that he always expected his productions to meet with a favorable reception. He had a good opinion of these lines : " And thought, as usual, men would say They were exceeding good." In the third stanza there is a reference to his slight build. THE CHAMBERED NAUTILUS. This selection, as well as the remaining ones, is taken from "The Auto- crat of the Breakfast Table." It is there introduced as follows: " Did I not say to you a little while ago that the universe swam in an ocean of similitudes and analogies? I will not quote Cowley, or Burns, or Wordsworth, just now, to show you what thoughts were suggested to them by the simplest natural objects, such as a flower or a leaf; but I will read you a few lines, if you do not object, suggested by looking at a section of one of those chambered shells to which is given the name of Pearly Nautilus. We need not trouble ourselves about the distinction between this and the Paper Nautilus, the Argonauta of the ancients. The name applied to both shows that each has long been com- pared to a ship, as you may see more fully in Webster's Dictionary, or the ' Encyclopaedia,' to which he refers. If you will look into Roget's Bridge- water Treatise, you will find a figure of one of these shells and a section of it. The last will show you the series of enlarging compartments successively dwelt in by the animal that inhabits the shell, which is built in a widening spiral. Can you find no lesson in this ? " "The Chambered Nautilus" was a favorite poem with Holmes. "In writing the poem," he says, " I was filled with a better feeling the highest state of mental exaltation and the most crystalline clairvoyance, as it seemed to me I mean that lucid vision of one's thought, and of all forms of expres- sion which will be at once precise and musical, which is the poet's special gift, however large or small in amount or value." This poem is the high-water mark of the author's poetic achievement. In this single flight he has not been often surpassed in America. I. Siren = one of three damsels, according to mythology, said to dwell near the island of Capreae, in the Mediterranean, and to sing with such sweet- ness that they who sailed by forgot their country, and died in an ecstasy of delight. 542 AMERICAN LITERATURE. 2. Sea-maid '= mermaid, a sea nymph with a fish's tail. Mermaid is from Fr. mer, sea, and Eng. maid. 3. "The story of its spreading a sail is as fabulous as the similar story regarding the argonaut." CHAMBERS. 4. The shell is camerated, or divided into chambers, by transverse curved partitions of shelly matter. 5. Triton = a fabled sea demigod, the trumpeter of Neptune. CONTENTMENT. This poem is introduced in the "Autocrat" as follows: "Should you like to hear what moderate wishes life brings one to at last? I used to be very ambitious, wasteful, extravagant, and luxurious in all my fancies. Read too much in the 'Arabian Nights.' Must have the lamp, couldn't do without the ring. Exercise every morning on the brazen horse. Plump down into castles as full of little milk-white princesses as a nest is of young sparrows. All love me dearly at once. Charming idea of life, but too high- colored for the- reality. I have outgrown all this ; my tastes have become exceedingly primitive, almost, perhaps, ascetic. We carry happiness into our condition, but must not hope to find it there. I think you will be willing to hear some lines which embody the subdued and limited desires of my maturity." 1. Plenipo = plenipotentiary ; an ambassador or envoy to a foreign Court, furnished with full power to negotiate a treaty or transact other business. 2. St. James = the English Court, so called from the Palace of St. James, used for Court purposes. 3. See the sketch of Holmes for a remark on this stanza. 4. Titian (1477-1576) was the head of the Venetian school, and one of the greatest painters that ever lived. The number of his works exceeds six hundred. 5. Raphael (1483-1520), called by his countrymen "the divine, '' is ranked by almost universal consent as the greatest of painters. 6. Turner (1775-1851) was the greatest of British landscape painters. By his industry and thrift he amassed a fortune of a million dollars. 7. Stradivarius (1644-1737) was a- distinguished maker of violins. In this connection the following extract from Holmes's biography will be read with interest: " At one time the Doctor was seized with an ardent desire to learn to play upon the violin. I think there was not the slightest reason to suppose that he ever could learn, and certainly he never did ; but he used to shut himself up in his little ' study,' beside the front door in the Charles- street house, and fiddle away with surprising industry, and a satisfaction out of all proportion to his achievement, After two or three winters he reached NOTES TO HOLMES. 543 a point at which he could make several simple tunes quite recognizable, and then finally desisted from what would have been a waste of time had it not been a recreation." 8. j9///=a light and complicated figure of brass, unburnished gold, etc., set as an ornament into surfaces of ebony or other dark wood. 9. Midas = a Phrygian king, to whom was granted the wish that what- ever he touched might turn into gold. THE DEACON'S MASTERPIECE. This is the best-known and the most popular of Holme s's humorous pieces. At the Breakfast Table one morning " the young fellow whom they call John" had proposed some conundrums before the Autocrat made his appearance. The Autocrat disapproved of their trifling character. Then, as introductory to the poem: "I am willing, I said, to exercise your ingenuity in a rational and contemplative manner. No, I do not proscribe certain forms of philosophical speculation which involve an approach to the absurd or the ludicrous, such as you may find, for example, in the folio of the Reverend Father Thomas Sanchez, in his famous Disputations, ' De Sancto Matrimonio.' I will therefore turn this levity of yours t~> profit by reading you a rhymed problem, wrought out by my friend the Professor." INDEX. Abbott, Jacob, 97. Abbott, John S. C., 97, 281. Abbott, Lyman, 272. Adams, Henry, 323. Adams, John, 61. Alcott, Amos Bronson, 95. Alcott, Louisa May, 269. Aldrich, Thomas Bailey, 268, 291. Allen, James Lane, 275. Allston, Washington, 96. American literature, 3 ; development in nineteenth century, 4 ; favorable con- ditions for, 5 ; periods of, 6. Articles of Confederation, 68. Bancroft, George, 97, 112. Bancroft, Henry Howe, 323. Barlow, Joel, 61, 73, Barnard, Henry, 103, 323. Bay Psalm Book, 18. Beers, Ethel, 281. Berkeley, Bishop, quoted, 36. Berkeley, Sir William, on free schools, 14. Blair, James, 33. Boyesen, Hjalmar Hjorth, 271. Brackenridge, Hugh Henry, 62. Bradford, William, 9. Bradstreet, Anne, 10, 20. Brainerd, David, 32. Brook Farm, 112, 187. Brown, Charles Brockden, 62, 72. Browne, Charles Farrar, 269, 289. Browning, Mrs., quoted, 176. Bryant, William Cullen, sketch of, 150; upright character, 150 ; moral element in literature, 150 ; ancestry, 151 ; pre- cocity, 151 ; poetic bent, 152 ; legal studies, 152; as a lawyer, 153; love of nature, 153; " Thanatopsis," 154; " To a Waterfowl," 155 ; marriage, 156; domestic life, 156; "A Forest Hymn," 156; "Death of the Flow- ers," 157; "Journey of Life," 157; Evening Post, 158 ; prose writings, 158 ; advice to a young man, 158 ; peculiarities, 159 ; travels, 159 ; ad- dresses, 159; as a poet, 160; on poetic style, 160 ; his poems abroad, 161 ; relations with Irving, 161 ; cri- tique of his poetry, 162 ; translations, 163; country residences, 164; reli- gion, 164; estimate of, 165. Burnett, Frances Hodgson, 274. Byles, Mather, 32. Byrd, William, 33. Cable, George W., 274, 308. Carleton, Will, 277. Carman, Bliss, 273. Gary, Alice, 272. Gary, Phoebe, 272. Cawein, Madison Julius, 276. Censorship of press, 35. Centres, literary, 288. Channing, William Ellery, 95. Charleston as literary centre, 118. Child, Lydia Maria, 96. Churchill, Winston, 276, 287. Civil War, influence of, 280. Clarke, James Freeman, 268. Clemens, Samuel L., 277. Colonial period, interest of, 34; educa- tional progress of, 35. Colonies, tendency to union of, 36, 39. Colonization, English, Spanish, and French, n. Constitution, the, drawn up and ratified, 69, 70. Continental Congress, 66. Convention of Albany, 40. Cooke, John Esten, 100, 117. Cooke, Philip Pendleton, 101. 545 546 INDEX. Cooke, Rose Terry, 269. Cooper, James Fenimore, sketch of, 138 ; a national writer, 138 ; early years, 138 ; defective education, 139; in the navy, 139; marriage, 140 ; "Precaution," 140; " The Spy," 141 ; " The Pioneers," 141 ; "The Pilot," 142; " Last of the Mohi- cans," 142 ; in New York, 143 ; goes abroad, 143 ; literary activity there, 144; controversies, 144; return to America, 145; libel suits, 145; "His- tory of Navy," 146; Leatherstocking series, 146 ; estimate of, 147 ; critique of his writings, 148. Cotton, John, 9. Crawford, Francis Marion, 274, 283,286. Critical independence of America, 288. Curtis, George William, 100. Dana, Richard Henry, 96. Davies, Samuel, 32. Davis, Jefferson, 281. Davis, Richard Harding, 273. Deland, Margaret Wade, 269. Dial, The, in. 1 Dixon, Thomas, Jr., 281. Dodge, Mary A., 270. Drake, Joseph Rodman, 98, 115. Draper, John W., 281. Dwight, Timothy, 61, 71. Education, in First Colonial Period, 16; in Second, 35 ; in First National Period, 103; present interest in, 282. Edwards, Jonathan, sketch of, 53; char- acter, 53 ; ancestry, 53 ; precocity, 54 ; at Yale, 54; interest in religion, 55; a preacher in New York, 55 ; a tutor in Yale, 55; his "Resolutions," 55; in Northampton, 56; studious habits, 56; as a preacher, 56; "Present Revival of Religion in New England," 57; forced lo resign, 57; at Stockbridge, 57, 58 ; " Freedom of the Will," 58 ; call to Princeton, 58 ; " History of Re- demption," 59; estimate of, 60. Eggleston, Edward, 277, 321. Eliot, John, 10. Ely, Richard T., 323. Emerson, Ralph Waldo, sketch of, 180; a great thinker, 180; a seer, 181; idealists and mystics, 181 ; sturdy sense, 181 ; ancestry, 182 ; as a teacher, 182 ; as a preacher, 183 ; trip abroad, 183; as a lecturer, 184; at Concord, 185; "Concord Hymn," 185; "Na- ture," 186; Transcendental Club, 186; transcendentalism, 186 ; The Dial, 187 ; Brook Farm, 187; " Essays," 188; phi- losophy of, 188; studious life, 189; " Threnody," 190 ; second series of " Essays," 190 ; address at Cambridge, 190; "Representative Men," 191; "Poems," 191; critique of, 192; stu- dent of nature, 193 ; literary methods, 195 ; last years, 195. England and France in America, 38. Everett, Alexander H., 96. Everett, Edward, 96. Evolution and literature, 285. " Federalist, The," 69. Field, Eugene, 277. Fields, James T., 97. Finch, Francis M., 281. First National Period, 102. Fiske, John, 268. Ford, Paul Leicester, 272, 287. Fox, John, Jr., 276. Franklin, Benjamin, sketch of, 43; popu- larity, 43; his fondness for reading, 43; style formed on Spectator, 44; early literary efforts, 44; in Philadel- phia, 45 ; in England, 45 ; with Keimer, 45; literary club, 46; his self-control, 46 ; modesty of statement, 46 ; business methods, 47 ; founds a newspaper, 47 ; " Poor Richard's Almanac," 47, 48 ; public spirit, 48 ; political honors, 49 ; linguistic studies, 49 ; in Braddock's campaign, 50; electrical experiments, 50; as representative abroad, 51 ; gov- ernor of Pennsylvania, 51 ; last years, 5 2 - French, Alice, 278. Freneau, Philip, 62, 71. Garrison, William Lloyd, 108. Gilder, Richard Watson, 271. Glasgow, Ellen A., 275. INDEX. 547 Godfrey, Thomas, 33, 42. Goodrich, Samuel G., 99. Grant, Ulysses S., 281. Guiney, Louise Imogen, 296. Guizot, quoted, 92. Hale, Edward Everett, 269, 294. Hale, Sarah Josepha, 99. Halleck, Fitz-Greene, 98, 116. Hamilton, Alexander, sketch of, 85 ; an- cestry, 85 ; youthful ambition, 85 ; liter- ary bent, 86 ; espouses colonial cause, 86 ; as pamphleteer, 87 ; faces a mob, 87 ; studies military science, 87 ; on Wash- ington's staff, 88 ; quarrel, 88 ; popu- larity, 89 ; marriage, 89 ; in Congress, 90; "The Federalist," 90, 91 ; in New York convention, 91; Secretary of Treasury, 92 ; relations with Jefferson, 92; as statesman, 92, 93; as lawyer, 93 ; duel with Burr, 93 ; character, 93, 94- Harris, Joel Chandler, 274. Harris, William T., 270. Harte, Francis Bret, 276, 316. Harvard College, founded, 17; literary influence of, 104. Hawthorne, Nathaniel, sketch of, 197; genius, 197; ancestry, 197; boyhood, 198 ; at college, 198 ; literary bent, 199 ; his reading, 199 ; studious habits, 200 ; critique of style,- 200; "Twice-Told Tales," 200; Longfellow's criticism, 201 ; in Boston custom-house, 201 ; at Brook Farm, 201 ; habits of observa- tion, 202; marriage, 203; "Mosses from an Old Manse," 203; in custom- house at Salem, 204; " Scarlet Letter," 205; " House of Seven Gables," 206; " Wonder-Book " and " Tanglewood Tales," 206; consul to Liverpool, 207; "Our Old Home," 207; "Marble Faun," 208 ; his sense of human guilt, 208 ; last years, 208 ; estimate of, 209. Hawthorne, Julian, 274. Hay, John, 277. Hayne, Paul Hamilton, 101, 119. Hayne, William Hamilton, 276. Hildreth, Richard, 97. Holland, Josiah Gilbert, 97. Holmes, Oliver Wendell, sketch of, 255 ; popularity, 255 ; characteristics, 255 ; men of wit distrusted, 256; belief in heredity, 256 ; ancestry, 256 ; " Auto- biographical Notes," 256; manner of reading, 257; at Harvard, 257; "class of '29," 257; studies medicine, and goes abroad, 257; "Old Ironsides," 258; practising physician, 258; first volume of verse, 259 ; " The Last Leaf," 259; marriage, 259; professor at Harvard, 260; as popular lecturer, 260; "Autocrat of the Breakfast Table," 260 ; " The Chambered Nau- tilus," 261 ; " Contentment," 261 ; Saturday Club, 262 ; Boston's laureate, 262; theological proclivities, 262; " Professor at the Breakfast Table," 263 ; " Poet at the Breakfast Table," 263 ; novels, 264 ; as biographer, 264 ; resigns professorship, 265 ; " Our Hun- dred Days in Europe," 265 ; " Over the Teacups," 265; last days, 266; charac- ter, 266. Hopkinson, Francis, 62. Hopldnson, Joseph, 62. Howe, Julia Ward, 281. Howells, William Dean, 270; quoted, 285-286; sketch of, 296-298. Humor, American, 289. Hutton, Laurence, 273. International relations, 283. Irving, Washington, sketch of, 124; his education, 124; excursions, 125; visit to Europe, 125; philosophical spirit, 126; interest in painting, 126; Salma- gundi, 127; in politics, 127; early romance, 128 ; " Knickerbocker's His- tory," 128; as a merchant, 128, 129; in Washington, 128; Select Reviews, 129; in Europe, 129 ; "Sketch Book," 130; " Bracebridge Hall," 131; "Tales of a Traveller," 132 ; " Life of Colum- bus," 132; "Conquest of Granada," 132; "The Alhambra," 133; secre- tary of legation in London, 133; re- turn to America, 133; "Tour on the Prairies," 133; Sunnyside, 134; 548 INDEX. prominence, 134 ; literary labors, 134 ; minister to Spain, 135 ; " Life of Gold- smith," 135 ; " Mahomet and his Suc- cessors," 136; " Life of Washington," 136; character, 136. Jackson, Helen Hunt, 278. James, Henry, 270. James, William, 323. Jefferson, Thomas, sketch of, 75; great epochs and great men, 75 ; rank and ancestry, 75; education, 76; law stu- dent, 76; as lawyer, 77; member of House of Burgesses, 77 ; marriage, 77 ; committee of correspondence, 78 ; day of fasting and prayer, 78 ; " Rights of British America," 78; in Conti- nental Congress, 79 ; " Declaration of Independence," 80; member of the Virginia legislature, 80; his educa- tional system, 80; various positions, 81 ; Secretary of State, 81 ; Demo- cratic leader, 81; President, 82; his administration, 82; founds University of Virginia, 83 ; death, 83 ; estimate of, 83, 84. Jesuits in America, 39. Jewett, Sarah One, 269. Johnson, Edward, 10. Johnston, Joseph E., 281. Johnston, Mary, 275, 287. Kennedy, John Pendleton, 100. Key, Francis Scott, 100. King, Charles, 278. Knickerbocker School, 114. Ladd, George T., 323. Lanier, Sidney, 275, 310-314. Larcom, Lucy, 270. Lawson, John, 33. Lazarus, Emma, 272. Leland, Charles Godfrey, 272. Literature, study of, I ; definition, I ; restricted meaning, 2; determining factors, 2; American, 3; real beginning of, 4 ; in nineteenth century, 4 ; future of, 5 ; periods of, 6 ; in Colonial Period, 40; in First National Period, 104, 107; in the South, 117; Second National Period, 279; for children, 289. Livingston, William, 32, 41. Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth, sketch of, 210; popularity, 210; calm life, 210; ancestry, 211 ; early surroundings, 211 ; at college, 211; literary turn, 212; pro- fessor at Bowdoin, 212; " Outre Mer," 213; marriage, 213; "Footsteps of Angels," 213; called to Harvard, 214; "Hyperion," 214; as a teacher, 214; "Three Friends of Mine," 215; "Voices of the Night," 215; " Ballads and Other Poems," 216; critique of, 216; "The Spanish Student," 217; " Poems on Slavery," 217 ; " Poets and Poetry of Europe," 218; "Belfry of Bruges, and Other Poems," 218; " Evangeline," 219; unfavorable criti- cism, 220; "Kavanagh," 220; "The Seaside and the Fireside," 220; resig- nation at Harvard, 221 ; "Hiawatha," 221 ; " The Courtship of Miles Stan- dish," 222; "Divine Comedy," 224; " Tales of a Wayside Inn," 224 ; trilogy of " Christus," 225 ; other poems, 226; death, 226. Lossing, Benson J., 99. Louis XIV., policy of, 39. Lowell, James Russell, sketch of, 227; varied greatness of, 227 ; originality, 227 ; New England spirit, 228 ; ances- try, 228 ; at Harvard, 229 ; " A Year's Life," 229; 7/2i? Pioneer, 229; second volume of poems, 229 ; " The Biglow Papers," 231 ; " The Vision of Sir Launfal," 232; "A Fable for Critics," 233; as a lecturer, 234; called to Harvard, 234; editor of Atlantic, 234; "Fireside Travels," 235; "Under the Willows," 235; Commemoration Odes, 236; "The Cathedral," 237; prose writings, 238 ; as a critic, 239 ; minister to Spain and to England, 239 ; " De- mocracy and Other Addresses," 240; estimate of, 240. Mabie, Hamilton Wright, 272. Madison, James, 62. Mahan, Alfred T., 323. Mann, Horace, 103, 323. Markharn, Edwin, 278. INDEX. 549 Marshall, John, 63. Massachusetts, settlement of, 15. Mather, Cotton, sketch of, 26; prolific authorship, 26; atypical Puritan, 26; as a preacher, 27; his marriage, 28; industry and scholarship, 28 ; " Mag- nalia Christi," 29; " Bonifacius," 30; relation to witchcraft tragedy, 30; an advocate of vaccination, 30, 31 ; aspi- rations for Harvard presidency, 31 ; estimate of, 31. Mather, Increase, 10. Matthews, Brander, 272. Middle States, in literature, 296. Miller, Cincinnatus Heine, 277, 318-320. Mitchell, Silas Weir, 272, 287. Morris, George P., 99. Motley, John Lothrop, 97, 113. Moulton, Louise Chandler, 270. Murfree, Mary Noailles, 275, 309. National growth, 102. New England, settlement of, 15; popu- lar education in, 16; literary eminence of, 17, 18 ; present writers, 291. News-Letter, the, first periodical, 35. North American Review, the, 104. Novel, the historical, 287. Osgood, Frances Sargent, 97. Ossoli, Margaret Fuller, 95. Page, Thomas Nelson, 274, 281. Paine, Thomas, 62. Palfrey, James Gorham, 97. Parkman, Francis, 98. Paulding, James K., 98, 114. Percival, James Gates, 98. Philosophy and literature, 284. Piatt, John James, 278. Piatt, Sarah Morgan Bryan, 278. Pike, Albert, 281. Pinkney, Edward Coate, 101. Poe, Edgar Allan, sketch of, 166; diffi- cult to form estimate of, 166 ; peculiar place in literature, 166 ; ancestry, 166 ; early training, 167 ; in England, 167 ; at University of Virginia, 168 ; seeking his fortune, 168 ; in the army, 169 ; at West Point, 169 ; his poetic principle, 170; " Al Aaraaf" and " Israfel," 170; imitates Moore and Byron, 171; "A MS. Found in a Bottle," 172 ; Southern Literary Messenger, 172; as critic, 172; "Arthur Gordon Pym," 173; The Gentleman's Magazine, 173 ; Graham's Magazine, 174; violent criticism, 174; Griswold's description, 175 ; critique of his Tales, 175; Evening Mirror, 176; "The Raven," 176; Broadway Journal, 176 ; " Literati of New York," 176; principal poems, 177; personal traits, 178 ; devotion to his wife, 178 ; "Eureka," 179; estimate of, 179. Poetry, present tendency of, 290. Prentice, George D., 101. Prescott, William Hickling, 96, 112. Press, periodical, 104, 282. Preston, Margaret J., 275. Public school system, 103. Puritans, character of, 15. Reed, Thomas Buchanan, 99. Realism, 285. Religion and literature, 284. Repplier, Agnes, 273. Revolution, leaders of, 64 ; causes of, 65 ; justice of, 67. Revolutionary Period, 64 ; literature of, 7i- Riley, James Whitcomb, 277. Rives, Amelie, 276. Roe, Edward Payson, 271. Romanticism, 285. Roosevelt, Theodore, 273. Rovvson, Mi-s. Susanna, 61. Royce, Josiah, 323. Ryan, Abram J., 275, 281, 314-316. Sandys, George, 9, 19. Saxe, John Godfrey, 99. Science, advance of, 106. Scudder, Horace E., 269. Second Colonial Period, 34. Second National Period, 279. Sedgwick, Catharine Maria, 96. Sewell, Samuel, 32. Shaw, H. W. t 290. Sherman, Frank Dempster, 274. Sherman, William T., 281. 550 INDEX. Sigourney, Lydia Huntley, 96. Simms, William Gilmore, 100, 118. Slavery, 108. Smith, Captain John, romantic life and character of, 21 ; early years, 21 ; rov- ing adventures, 22; fighting Turks, 22; at Jamestown, 23; Pocahontas incident, 23; accident, 24; testimony of companions, 24; voyage to New England, 24; list of his works, 24; summary and estimate of his life, 25. Social progress, 283. South, the, in literature, 117, 307. Southern Literary Messenger, the, 117. Spanish War, influence of, 282. State rights, 108. Stedman, Edmund Clarence, 271, 298- 300. Stephens, Alexander H., 281. Stith, William, 33. Stockton, Francis Richard, 271, 302-304. Stoddard, Richard Henry, 271, 301, 302. Stowe, Harriet Beecher, 98. Strachey, William, 9. Stuart, Ruth McEnery, 276. Tabb, John B., 276. Talleyrand, quoted, 92. ' Tarkington, Newton Booth, 278. Taylor, Bayard, 100. Terhune, Mary Virginia, 275. Thaxter, Celia, 270. Thomas, Edith M., 277. Thompson, John R., 100. Thompson, Maurice, 277, 287. Thoreau, Henry David, 95. Timrod, Henry, 101, 121. Tolstoi, influence of, 286. Tourgee, Albion Winegar, 278, 281. Transcendentalism, no. Trent, William P., 276. Trowbridge, John T., 268. Trumbull, John, 61, 72. Unitarian controversy, 109, no. United States, growth of, 102. * Van Dyke, Henry, 273. Virginia, settlement of, 12; literary con- ditions, 13. Walker, Francis A., 323. Wallace, Lewis, 276, 287. Ward, Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, 269. Ware, William, 98. Warner, Charles Dudley, 268, 292. Washington, George, 63. West, the, in literature, 316. Wheatley, Phillis, 61. Whipple, E. P., 268. Whitaker, Alexander, 9. White, Richard Grant, 271. Whitman, Walt, 271, 304-307. Whitney, Adeline D. T., 269. Whittier, John Greenleaf, sketch of, 241 ; Quaker ancestry, 241 ; a self-made man, 241 ; " The Barefoot Boy," 241 ; in- fluenced by Burns, 242; acquaintance with Garrison, 242; at school, 242; edits Weekly Review, 243 ; anti-slavery movement, 243 ; Pennsylvania Free- man, 244; "Voices of Freedom," 244; " Mogg Megone," etc., 245; democratic sympathies, 245 ; " Songs of Labor," 245; early romance, 246; a bard of faith, 247; National Era, 247 ; " The Last Walk in Autumn," 247 ; " Margaret Smith's Journal," etc., 248 ; " Home Ballads, Poems, and Lyrics," 248; "In War Time," 249; " Barbara Frietchie," 250 ; " Snow- Bound," 250 ; " The Tent on the Beach," 252; his old age, 252; critique of, 253 ; character, 253. Wigglesworth, Michael, 32. Wilde, Richard Henry, 100. Wilkins, Mary E., 296. William and Mary College, founded, 14. Willis, Nathaniel P., 99. Wilson, Alexander, 62. Wilson, Augusta J. Evans, 275. Winsor, Justin, 323. Winter, William, 273. Winthrop, John, 9. Wirt, William, 63. Women, in literature, 288 ; New England group of, 295. Woodberry, George Edward, 274. Woodworth, Samuel, 98. " Yankee Doodle," 73. THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY WILL INCREASE TO SO CENTS ON THE FOURTH DAY AND TO $t.OO ON THE SEVENTH DAY OVERDUE. #f LD 21-95m-7,'37 YC 16405