■P A SHORT HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE BY WALTER C. BRONSON, Litt.D. PROFESSOR OF ENGLISH IN BROWN UNIVERSITY REVISED AND ENLARGED D. C. HEATH & CO., PUBLISHERS BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO #$> I &« Copyright, 1900 and 1919 By D. C. HEATH & CO. I H9 NUV -6 ©CI.A536.448 PREFACE. Although this book is intended primarily for use io the class-room, the attempt has been made to give it a literary atmosphere, in the conviction that text-books on literature should contribute directly to the student's culture as well as to his knowledge of facts. It is hoped, therefore, that the general reader may find the follow- ing pages not wholly uninteresting. A good deal of the matter, especially in the foot-notes and the appendix, should also give the book some value for purposes of reference; to that end, definiteness and accuracy have been sought at no little labor ; but in such a mass of details errors are inevitable, and corrections will be welcomed. The judicious teacher will readily recognize that the parts dealing with minor authors and with whole periods whose interest is historical rather than literary, as well as the more critical matter upon the greater authors, should be passed over lightly or omitted altogether when the class is immature. There is much to be said, however, in favor of requiring the older pupils in high schools and academies to devote some study to Colonial and Revolutionary literature, not only for its relation to the literature of the Republic, but also for the light it throws upon early American history and the life iv PREFACE. and character of our forefathers. Furthermore, the ex- tracts in the appendix will be found to contain much that is interesting as well as illustrative of the times ; and the very spirit of the age speaks in some of the uncon- sciously humorous title-pages given in the bibliography. Throughout the book the literature has been pre- sented in its relation to general conditions in America and to the literatures of England and the Continent of Europe, for only so can it be completely understood and its full significance perceived ; but the personality of the authors and the intrinsic qualities of their work have, it is hoped, received due attention. The division into periods is not meant to be insisted upon too strongly. But some dividing lines must be run for convenience and clearness in treating of so wide and diversified a field, and those adopted are perhaps liable to fewer objections than any others. They have, however, been transgressed freely where it was necessary to do so in order to avoid splitting the discussion of an author's work. In the case of writers with whom ,the reader is probably not familiar and never need be, the method is chiefly descriptive ; elsewhere the book is intended to be merely a guide in reading and studying the literature itself. I wish to express my indebtedness, for inspiration and guidance and occasionally for information, to Professor Tyler's admirable history of the Colonial and Revolu- tionary literature. But it is due to the reader to add that even the earlier portions of this little work are based almost wholly upon a study of the literature at first hand. Any other method, indeed, would have been inexcusable in the case of one having access to such remarkable collections of Americana as the Harris Collection of PREFACE. v American Poetry, in the library of Brown University, and the John Carter Brown Library in the city of Provi- dence. It has been my privilege to work from many rare first editions, and in a few instances to hit upon material not hitherto utilized, so far as I know, in books upon American literature. It may be fitting to say, fur- ther, that what is presented upon pages 79-90 embodies the results of a canvass of all the poetry published be- tween the years 1789 and 1815 and contained in the Harris Collection. It is perhaps hardly necessary to add that the bibliography in the appendix has been made to % considerable extent from the original editions, and, where these were lacking, largely from Sabin's Biblio- theca Americana ; that the lives of the greater authors wid the lists of their works are derived from the larger biographies and bibliographies ; and that details about minor authors have been taken from standard books of reference. My special thanks are due to Mr. Harry L. Koop- man, librarian of Brown University, and to his assist- ants, for many courtesies; to Mr. George P. Winship, librarian of the John Carter Brown Library, for the use of that collection; to the authorities of the Rhode Island Historical Society for access to some rare publi- cations on their shelves; to Mr. William E. Foster, librarian of the Providence Public Library, for special privileges ; and to Professor Alois Brandl, of the Univer- sity of Berlin, for securing me the use of the University and Royal Libraries in Berlin. To Dr. F. R. Lane of the Central High School, Washington, D.C., to Professor L. A. Sherman of the University of Nebraska, and to Mr. H. L. Boltwood, Principal of the Evanston High vi PREFACE. School, Illinois, I am indebted for sundry suggestions made while the book was going through the press ; but as their suggestions were not always adopted, they are in nowise responsible for the faults of the book. The faults are doubtless many. I can only hope that, in spite of them, the following pages may be of some real service in the study of the literature of my country. PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION. In the present edition the literature from 1870 to 1900 receives fuller treatment than before, and an account of the literature since 1900 is added; extracts from writers of the nineteenth century are included in the Appendix, as illustrations of their thought and style ; and the Reference List of Books and Articles is brought down to date. A few corrections and inser- tions have also been made in the earlier pages of the book. I express my thanks to my colleague, Professor Thomas Crosby, for aid in selecting material for the dis- cussion of the modern American drama ; to Miss Edith R. Blanchard of the Brown University Library, for assistance in collecting biographical data ; and most of all to my wife, who offered helpful criticisms of the text of the new chapter, remade the index, and assisted in reading the proofs. W. C. B. Providence, R. I., June 15, 1919. CONTENTS. PAGES PREFACES iii-vi INTRODUCTION 3-4 COLONIAL AND REVOLUTIONARY PERIODS:— . 5-68 Forewords 7-9 Colonial Period: 10-42 Literature in Virginia . . . , , , . . 11-16 Literature in New England 16-38 Literature in the Other Colonies 38-42 Revolutionary Period: 43-68 General Conditions 43~45 Political Literature 45~5i Histories, Letters, Essays, etc 5*-55 Benjamin Franklin 55~57 Poetry and the Drama : 57-68 Minor poets, 57-59 ; John Trumbull, 60-61 ; Timothy Dwight, 61-62; Joel Barlow, 62-63; Philip Freneau, 63-65 ; Jonathan Odell, 66 ; dramas, 66-68. PERIOD OF THE REPUBLIC:— 69-348 Forewords 71-72 The Literature from 1789 to 1815: .... 73-101 General conditions, 73-78; orations, biographies, and essays, 78-79; poetry and the drama, 79-91; prose fiction and Charles Brockden Brown, 91-101. The Literature from 1815 to 1870: .... 101-278 General Conditions 101-112 New York writers : 1 12-150 General conditions, 112-113; minor authors, 113-116; Washington Irving, 116-126; James Fenimore Cooper, 126-136 ; William Cullen Byrant, 136-148 ; later minor authors, 148-150. Southern writers : 150-170 General conditions, 150-152; minor authors, 152-154, 157-158; William Gilmore Simms, 154-157; Edgar Allan Poe, 158-170. vii viii CONTENTS. PAGES New England Writers : 170-260 Minor authors, 170-176; Henry Wadsworth Long- fellow, 177-191 ; transcendentalism, 191-195; Ralph Waldo Emerson, 195-209; minor transcendentalists, 209-210; Henry David Thoreau, 210-213; Nathaniel Hawthorne, 213-227; John Greenleaf Whittier, 227- 239; James Russell Lowell, 239-250; Oliver Wendell Holmes, 250-260. Writers of the Middle States : 260-273 Minor authors, 260-262; Bayard Taylor, 262-265; Walt Whitman, 265-273. Humorists, Orators, Historians ...... 273-278 The Literature from 1870 to 1918: .... 279-348 General Conditions and Tendencies 279-283 Prose Fiction : 283-316 Northern writers, 284-287; Western writers, 287-291; Southern writers, 291-295; historical and sociological novelists, 295-300; various minor novelists, 300-301, 307-311; Henry James, Jr., 301-304; W. D. Howells, 304-307 ; Winston Churchill, 31 1-3 13 ; Edith Wharton, 3i3-3!5- Miscellaneous Prose : 316-323 Sketches, familiar essays, and literary criticism, 316-320; nature studies, 320-321 ; scientific, philosophical, polit- ical, and historical works, 321-323. Poetry: 3 2 3~339 The earlier poetry — Northern, 323-324; Southern, 324- 327; Western, 327-328. The later poetry — minor poets, 328-329, 330-331 ; W. V. Moody, 329-330; Robert Frost, 331-332; E. L. Masters, 332-333 ; the " New Poetry," 333-339. Drama 339-346 CONCLUSION 346-348 APPENDIX:— 340-466 A. Extracts from the Literature: .... 351-425 John Smith, 351; William Byrd, 352; William Bradford, 353; William Bradford and Edward Winslow, 353; Madam Winthrop, 354 ; Thomas Hooker, 355 ; Nathaniel Ward, 356; Anne Bradstreet, 357; Michael Wiggles- worth, 358; Cotton Mather, 359; Jonathan Edwards, 360; Samuel Sewall, 361; Madam Knight, 363; Mary CONTENTS. ix PAGES Rowlandson, 365; A Collection of Poems, 365; Joseph Green, 366; Thomas Godfrey, 367; Henry Laurens, 368; The Columbian Magazine, 369; The Providence Gazette, 370; A Cure for the Spleen, 371; J. Hector St. John Crevecceur, 373 ; Songs and Ballads of the Ameri- can Revolution, 374; John Trumbull, 375; Timothy Dwight, 376; Joel Barlow, 377; Philip Freneau, 378; Henry H. Brackenridge, 379; Benjamin Franklin, 380; Washington Irving, 381; James Fenimore Cooper, 383; William Cullen Bryant, 385; Edgar Allan Poe, 387; Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, 391 ; Ralph Waldo Emerson, 395; Henry David Thoreau, 400; Nathaniel Hawthorne, 401 ; John Greenleaf Whittier, 404 ; James Russell Lowell, 407; Oliver Wendell Holmes, 412; Walt Whitman, 416; Daniel Webster, 418; Abraham Lincoln, 419; William H. Prescott, 420 ; John Lothrop Motley, 421 ; Francis Parkman, 423. B. Newspapers and Magazines — Colleges — The New England Primer 426-431 C Partial Bibliography of Colonial and Revo- lutionary Literature 432-444 D. Reference List of Books and Articles . . 445-466 INDEX 467-490 HISTORY OF AMERICAN LITERATURE INTRODUCTION. Men of the English race have occupied what is now the United States of America for nearly three centuries. In that time, aided by men of other races, they have done an immense and splendid work. They have increased from a few thousands to seventy millions ; subdued and settled a wilderness stretching from ocean to ocean \ established the greatest Republic in the world's history ; fought two great wars, one for national independence and one for national unity and the liberation of the slave ; developed a magnificent material civilization ; covered a continent with churches, schools, and col- leges ; and made respectable beginnings in literature and the fine arts. Of this manifold activity the literary side only will be the subject of special study in the following pages. But it should be remembered that a nation's literature is closely related to the other sides of the national life and cannot be fully understood apart. For the first two cen- turies, indeed, our literature is chiefly valuable, not as art, but as history, as an expression of the spirit of the people and the times. Nor can its full significance be seen until we widen our view still more and recognize that American literature is one branch of the greater English literature, a part of the life of a great race as well as of a great nation. 3 4 INTRODUCTION. The history of American literature will, therefore, here be divided into periods corresponding to the great periods of American history : I. The Colonial Period, 1607-1765. II. The Revolutionary Period, 1765-1789. III. The Period of the Republic, 1 789-1918. In the first two periods the purely literary aspects of the subject-matter will, for the reason already mentioned, receive less attention ; in the last period the literature will be studied chiefly for its own sake, although its historical and social relations must not be forgotten; and from first to last there will be frequent occasion to note the influence exerted upon American writers by those of England and the other countries of Europe. THE COLONIAL AND REVOLU- TIONARY PERIODS FOREWORDS. The development of American literature during the first two centuries presents a peculiar phenomenon. The literature is not that of a people slowly emerging from barbarism and creating their own civilization through the long toil of ages. On the contrary, it is the literature of a people already highly civilized, but transplanted to another continent, where they set up in the wilderness the institu- tions of the Old World, modifying them to meet changed conditions and taking on in time a somewhat new spirit, yet on the whole clinging tenaciously to the substance of the old, and imitating with the provincial's feeling of depend- ence the current life and fashions of the mother country. A colonial literature has the advantage of inheriting the riches of an old civilization ; it has the disadvantage of crude surroundings and lack of originality. Such was the case with American literature for two hundred years. During the first three-fourths of the seventeenth cen- tury, the period when most of the English colonies in America were planted, England was the home of great men and of a great literature. Spenser had died as the old century went out, Shakspere and Bacon lived on into the new, and Milton was born one year after the settle- ment of Jamestown. The colonists were of the same stock which had just produced these and other literary Titans ; but it would of course be folly to look for writers equally great in the forests of America. Settling a wilderness and laying the foundations of a state are of themselves tasks ample enough for the strongest. If Shakspere the 7 8 THE COLONIAL PERIOD. deer-stealer had fled to Virginia instead of to London, il Milton had been a dissenting parson in a little New Eng- land village, should we have had King Lear and Paradise Lost? Furthermore, it should be remembered that for a century and more the population of the colonies was: comparatively small ; and since geniuses are rare in every generation, it is no wonder that they were not numerous among the few hundred thousand inhabit- ants scattered along the Atlantic seaboard. It must be said, however, that not only the great lights were absent from America, but the lesser ones as well, and that the general level of literary talent was low. Unfavorable environment accounts for this state of things in part ; the character of the colonists accounts for yet more. Among the early settlers of the South were many paupers, con- victs, and needy adventurers. In Virginia the leading colonists were indeed of the Cavalier class and in- herently capable of literary culture ; but there, as will soon be shown, the local conditions were peculiarly un- favorable for the creation of a literary atmosphere. And the Northern and Middle colonies were settled chiefly by practical, religious people, more intent upon their political rights and the salvation of their souls than upon the delights of belles-lettres. During the last quar- ter of the seventeenth century and the greater part of the eighteenth, literature in England itself was comparatively inferior, the splendid Elizabethan age of poetry and im- agination having given place to the " age of prose and reason." Yet the names of Dryden, Addison, Swift, Pope, Fielding, Gray, Goldsmith, Johnson, Gibbon, and Hume are in their own way great, and American literature for the same period has — with two exceptions — no names FOREWORDS. 9 worthy of a place beside them. But this is not matter for surprise ; conditions in America, although improving, were still unfavorable. Along the frontier the contest with wild nature went on unceasingly ; and within the area already settled, arose a new set of sinew-straining tasks — the development of commerce and industry, the wars with France for the possession of Canada, and the struggle for independence and national union. Further- more, from first to last the literature of the mother coun- try retarded the growth of a native literature by dimin- ishing the need of one ; our ancestors imported poetry, essays, and novels from England just as they imported fine fabrics and other luxuries. Next to the inferiority of early American literature, the most conspicuous fact is its imitation of English models. Throughout its whole course it runs parallel with literature in the mother country, although usually lagging about a generation behind. In America as in England, the heavy prose of the seventeenth cen- tury is succeeded by lighter and more orderly prose in the eighteenth. The " metaphysical " poetry of the Jacobean and Caroline periods is solemnly echoed from the rocky New England coast. The didactic and satiric verse of Dryden and Pope feathers the shaft of the American satirist in regions which not long before knew only the whiz of the Indian's arrow. The profitable pleasantries of Addison, the pensive moralizing of Gray, the genial grace of Goldsmith, the ponderous sesqui- pedalian tread of Johnson, the new Romanticism of Collins, Macpherson, and Walpole, the " sensibility " of Mackenzie and Sterne, all find admirers and imitators in the colonial writers of verse and prose. THE COLONIAL PERIOD. (1607-I765.) EVENTS IN AMERICA. Settlement of Jamestown, 1607. Negro slavery introduced into Vir- ginia, 1619. Landing of Pilgrims at Plymouth, 1620. New York settled by Dutch, 1621. Indian massacre in Virginia, 1622. Founding of Massachusetts Bay Colony, 1630. Founding of Maryland, 1634. First settlement in Connecticut, 1635. Founding of Providence, 1636. Pequot War, 1637. Delaware settled by Swedes, 1638. First settlement in Nor*h Carolina, 1653. Persecution of Quakers, 1656-1661* English seize New York, 1664. Founding of Charleston, S.C., 1670. Bacon's Rebellion, 1676. King Philip's War, 1675-1678. Pennsylvania settled, 1682. Salem witchcraft, 1692. Wars in America between France (aided by Indians) and Eng- land : King William's War, 1689-1697; Queen Anne's War, 1702-1713; King George's Wai, 1744-1748; French and Indian War, 1754-1763. EVENTS IN ENGLAND. Reign of James I., 1603-1625. Charles I. came to throne, 1625. Civil War, 1642-1646. Charles I. beheaded, 1649. England a commonwealth, 1649- 1660. Restoration of monarchy, 1660. The Bloodless Revolution, 1688. William and Mary came to throne, 1689. Reign of Anne, 1702-1714. Reign of George I., 1714-1727. Reign of George II., 1727-1760. George III. came to throne, 1760. LITERATURE IN ENGLAND. Shakspere, 1564-1616. Bacon, 1561-1626. Milton, 1608-1674; early poems (published), 1645; prose, 1641- 1674 ; Paradise Lost, 1667. * Metaphysical " poets : Donne, 1573-1631 ; Herbert, 1593-1633 ; Quarles, 1592-1644 ; Cowley, 1618-1667. 11 Cavalier " poets : Herrick, 1591- 1674; Carew, 1598-1639; Suck* ling, 1609-1641 ; Lovelace, 1618- 1658. Great preachers : Taylor, 1613- 1667; Barrow, 1630- 1677; Tillot son,i63o-i694; South, 1633-1716. Pilgrim's Progress, 1678 and 1684 Dryden, 1631-17CO. IO THE COLONIAL PERIOD. II The" Spectator essays, 1711-1714. Swift, 1667-1745. Watts, 1 674-1748. Young, 1681-1765. Pope, 1688-1744. Thomson, 1700-1748. Novels of Defoe (1661-1731), Rich- ardson (1689-1761), Fielding (1707-1754), Smollett (1721- 1771). Collins, 1721-1759. Gray, 1716-1771. i. LITERATURE IN VIRGINIA. For the beginnings of American literature we must go back nearly three centuries, to the time when a little band of Englishmen settled at Jamestown, Va., and erected a few rude huts on the edge of the primeval forest. Starvation, fever, Indians, and mismanagement soon threatened the very existence of the settlement, the horrors of the Starving Time slaying all but sixty out of a population of five hundred. Subsequently the colony grew and prospered. Yet toils and dangers abounded still. Forests must be felled, houses built, and new land brought under the plough. From time to time Indian massacres spread death and alarm. The political storms which shook the mother country in the middle of the century agitated the colony too. And a little later, Bacon's Rebellion threw Virginia itself into the fever of civil strife. Such conditions, when the ener- gies of men are absorbed in the strenuous labors of the pioneer, do not conduce to the growth of the fine arts, It is therefore no surprise to find that the literature of Virginia during these early years is comparatively meagre and poor. The writers were often unpractised, and had small leisure for the graces of style. But they wrote with the largeness and freedom and manly strength which were iharacteristic of the age ; their pictures of peril by sea and land are powerful and graphic ; and in their descrip* 12 LITERATURE IN VIRGINIA. tions of the New World and its strange inhabitants is sometimes a vein of rich though artless poetry. Foremost in time among these early authors stands * Captain John Smith, 1 a man of bold spirit and many adventures. He seems to have been given to boastful- ness and romantic exaggeration ; in particular, his story about his rescue by Pocahontas has been much ques- tioned by modern historians. 2 But his undoubted ex- periences in the New World were varied and often thrilling; and in his several books he describes them and the country with the same rough-and-ready spirit in which he journeyed and fought. William Strachey still lives as a writer in his description of a storm at sea, which wrecked him and his company on their voyage to Virginia in 1609. His account, which it is thought may have suggested to Shakspere certain passages in The Tempest, is in places magnificent, full of the awful might of the ocean in wrath. Other writers of the same class may here be passed by. 3 Not so with George Sandys, the first poet upon Virginian soil, who there completed his translation of Ovid's Metamorphoses, during the troub- lous times of the Indian massacre in 1622. The authors mentioned thus far were Englishmen writing in or about America rather than Americans even in spirit. But in 1656 appeared a book by one who had come to love America as his home : " It is that Country in which I desire to spend the remnant of my dayes," writes John 1 An author or work marked by an asterisk is represented among the extracts in Appendix, A. 2 For a fair statement of the case against it, see Doyle's English Colonies in America, Vol. I., Appendix E: for the other side, Fiske> Old Virginia and Her Neighbours, Vol. I., p. 103. 8 For the names and works of some of them, see Appendix, C. VIRGINIA'S GOLDEN AGE. 13 Hammond in his Leah and Rachel; 1 and he contrasts the simple plenty and new opportunities in America with the hopeless poverty in the crowded cities of the Old World. The stormy days of Bacon's Rebellion called forth a good deal of political literature, but it is of little general in- terest. The sudden death of the rebel leader, however, was the occasion of an anonymous elegy of some merit, ending with these dignified lines : — Here let him rest; while wee this truth report Hee 's gon from hence unto a higher Court To pleade his Cause : where he by this doth know Whether to Ceaser hee was friend, or foe. 2 Before the end of the century Virginia entered upon its colonial Golden Age. The Indians had been over- awed. Wealth and population were increasing rapidly. Along the pleasant waterways stood the comfortable mansion-houses of the planters, slave-huts clustering near, and broad acres of woodland and tillage stretching away on every side. Yet, because of the dearth of cities, printing-presses, and schools, literature flourished no better than before. The Virginian gentleman, inher- iting the tastes of the English country squire, 3 preferred 1 Page 28, ed. 1656. 2 Proc. Mass. Hist. Soc., 1866-1867, p. 324. The earliest extant original poem written in Virginia seems to have been John Grave's A Song of Sion y published in England in 1662. Grave was a Quaker, and his crude lines are full of righteous indignation over the recent per- secution of his sect in America. The poem is not mentioned, so far as I know, in any history or cyclopaedia of American literature. I am in- debted to Mr. C. S. Brigham, of the Brown University Library, for calling my attention to the copy in the Harris Collection. 3 From the first the leading colonists of Virginia were " gentlemen "; and after the defeat of the king's party many Cavaliers, from the class of the landed gentry, sought refuge in the colony, the ancestors of Wash* ington and of other great Virginians being among them. 14 LITERATURE IN, VIRGINIA. plantation life to city life ; the fertile soil and the unin« telligent labor of slaves or " indentured " servants made agriculture, particularly the growing of tobacco, the most profitable industry ; and the many rivers and creeks, allowing vessels to land their cargoes almost at the planter's door, rendered seaport towns unnecessary. Printing-presses were long forbidden by the king, and until past the middle of the eighteenth century there was but one printing-house in all Virginia. The more intelligent Virginians were not indifferent to education : private schools were soon established, and a college was planned as early as 1622, although circumstances delayed its actual founding until 1693. But the Vir- ginians, as a whole, had not much zeal for education ; the difficulty of providing instruction for all was greatly increased by the sparseness of the population ; and in consequence the mass of the people were comparatively illiterate. 1 In brief, colonial Virginia lacked the mental stimulus of life in towns and cities, where mind kindles mind by contact ; if books were written, it was difficult to get them printed ; and if they were printed, there were few people to read them. In such conditions the produc- tion of a large body of literature is not to be expected. Yet some literature there was. Rev. James Blair, the founder of William and Mary College, and for fifty years its president, published in 1722 a volume of discourses on the Sermon on the Mount ; and, in conjunction with 1 Even the better class of planters, loving field-sports and life in the open air, cared less for books than did the New Englander. The clergymen, sent over by the authorities of the Church of England as good enough for a colony, were often ignorant and immoral. The in- dentured white servants (many of them paupers and convicts) and the negro slaves were of course mostly indifferent to education. THE RISE OF AMERICAN SPIRIT. 15 Other writers, The Present State of Virginia and the Col- lege (1727). Professor Hugh Jones wrote an unpre- tentious little book, The Present State of Virginia (1724), very plain in style, but containing sensible suggestions for the betterment of the colony and some amusing strictures on the indolence of the inhabitants. A much more inter esting work is the History of Virginia (1705, 1722), by Robert Beverley, whose style, although not highly polished, is flowing and often vivid. This book, by a native Virginian and about Virginia, reminds us that in the older colonies there was now growing up a generation American by birth, American in spirit, and moulded largely by American conditions. Henceforth we may expect to hear a more distinctively American note in colonial literature. In fact, the author to be spoken of next is clearly a product, in part, of the new conditions. Colonel William Byrd (1674-1744) inherited a princely fortune and high social position. After being educated abroad, he returned to Virginia, where he held high offices for many years, and on his estates at Westover collected a library of nearly four thousand volumes. He left several works in manuscript, the principal of which is *The History of the Dividing Line, a journal of the expedition that in 1729 ran the boundary line between Virginia and North Carolina. Here and elsewhere Byrd has a lightness of touch, a gayety, a lively fancy, a spark- ling wit, a dash and gusto which make his pages delight- ful reading. They show the literary polish of the England of Addison and Pope ; but they show something more. In Colonel Byrd the Virginian aristocracy of the earlier day came to full flower ; and his writings contain the very essence of that careless, sunny, free-limbed life of /6 LITERATURE IN NEW ENGLAND. the English Cavalier transplanted to the fresher air and wider spaces of the New World. Rev. William Stith, a native of Virginia, and president of William and Mary College, brought out in 1 747 The History of the First Dis- covery and Settlement of Virginia} The book is clear and careful, commanding respect if not admiration, and forms a worthy close to the pre-Revolutionary literature of the principal colony of the South. 2. LITERATURE IN NEW ENGLAND. The literature of colonial New England was more abundant than that of Virginia and somewhat different in savor. The causes for this lay in the nature of the colonists and the country. The sterile soil and severe cli- mate did not allow of large plantations cultivated by waste- ful slave-labor \ only the small farmer, working with the shrewd and tireless industry of a proprietor, could wring a profit from the stony hillsides. The rocky coast, with few large rivers but many harbors, favored the growth of seaport towns. Furthermore, while in Virginia the unit of population was the family, in New England it was at first the church, or congregation, knit together by a common faith and assembling every Sunday in a common building, the " meeting-house." These conditions, by producing a concentration of population, stimulated in- tellectual activity and made easier the establishment of common schools. The characteristics of the colonists tended to the same results. Most of the settlers of New England were " Separatists." On account of their dis- 1 It was printed in the colony, and is a very creditable piece of typog- raphy. THE PURITAN INFLUENCE. 17 satisfaction with certain things in the Church of England they had left it or been driven out of it, and had formed separate churches of their own ; and their motive in coming three thousand miles across a stormy ocean was to build up in the New World a Commonwealth of the Reformed Faith. Like all reformers they were men of independent thought ; they held an intellectual form of religion ; and they believed that every man must search the Scriptures for himself, under the guidance of a learned ministry, and work out his own salvation in fear and logic. Hence they thought it a duty to teach every child to read the Bible ; and so schools were planted almost as soon as corn, while Harvard College was founded only six. years later than Boston itself. 1 In consequence of these characteristics and conditions the level of intelligence throughout New England was very high, and there was from the first a literary class, composed chiefly of clergymen and magistrates, who had the capacity, learning, and industry to write many books. 2 The same causes which made the literature abundant made it also sombre and often dull. Much of it consists of religious works, and nearly all is permeated with the atmosphere of a faith which had more of gloom than of sunshine. Yet strength is here too, the strength of the Puritan character and the Puritan creed; in the earlier years the romance of the New World tinges even the 1 " By the year 1649 every colony in New England, except Rhode Island, had made public instruction compulsory." — Tylers 's A History of American Literature, Vol. I., p. 99. 2 " At one time ... there was in Massachusetts and Connecticut a Cambridge graduate for every two hundred and fifty inhabitants." — Ibid., p. 98. C 18 LITERATURE IN NEW ENGLAND. pages of the prosaic annalist ; the sublime if gloomy poetry inherent in Calvinism gives a certain greatness to many a heavy sermon and dull poem ; and through- out the whole mass of this literature can be felt the intellectual solidity, moral soundness, and sturdy practi- cal sense of the Anglo-Saxon race. Among the earliest writings were naturally Diaries, Histories, and Descriptions. The events of the first year of the Plymouth Colony were recorded in the * Journal of William Bradford and Edward Winslow, written in unvarnished style, but vivid and full of inter- esting incidents. In this daily record we may live over again the life of the Pilgrims — their search along the wintry coast for a good site for a settlement, their first encounter with Indians, their landing at Plymouth, and their terrible sufferings during the first winter. The * History of Plymouth, by the same William Bradford, for thirty years governor of the colony, comes down to 1646. 1 Like much of the contemporary prose written in England, it has at times a large though artless beauty, 1 The manuscript has had a remarkable history. By Bradford's grandson, John Bradford, it was intrusted to Thomas Prince, who used it in compiling his History of New England. Governor Hutchinson had it when he published the second volume of The History of the Province of Massachusetts Bay, in 1767. From that time no one knew of its whereabouts for many years. In 1855 it was discovered to be in the library of the Bishop of London, though how it got there is still a mys- tery. The next year the history was printed for the first time, by the Massachusetts Historical Society, from a transcript of the original. In 1897, by a graceful act of international courtesy, a decree of the Epis- copal Court of London gave the manuscript into the hands of the United States Ambassador, to be by him delivered to the Common- wealth of Massachusetts. This was done ; and the precious volume, " bound in parchment, once white, but now grimy and much the worse for wear," after long and strange journeyings rests once more in the nation whose founding it describes. DIARIES, HISTORIES, AND DESCRIPTIONS. 19 and it is full of the grave and solid strength of a man fit to build empires in the wilderness. The History of New England ', by John Winthrop, first governor of Massa- chusetts Bay Colony, a diary of events for the years 1 630-1 649, has much the same qualities, although it is more prosaic on the whole. As we turn the pages we get many interesting glimpses into the lives and minds of the New England Puritans. We read that bullets were used for farthings ; that a woman " had a cleft stick put on her tongue half an hour, for reproaching the elders " ; that a drunkard was " ordered to wear a red D about his neck for a year " ; that Rev. John Cotton was desired to " go through the Bible and raise marginal notes upon all the knotty places " ; that the drowning of a child in a well was God's punishment upon the father for working after sundown the Saturday before, and was so confessed in church by the repentant Sabbath-breaker. 1 More winning and no less true to the Puritan ideal are the * Letters of Winthrop and his wife Margaret to each other, full of sweet human love shelter- ing under the greater love of God. Very different from the grave Puritan histories is the New English Canaan (1637) by Thomas Morton, a rollicking Royalist, who with thirty followers established himself at " Merrymount," near Boston, in 1626. He set up a Maypole eighty feet high, and danced about it with his jolly crew, the Indians joining in the revels, which it is probable were not wholly innocent. Morton's Puritan neighbors, greatly scandalized, cut down the wicked Maypole ; and when Morton persisted in sell- ing guns and rum to the Indians, they shipped him back 1 The History of New England, Vol. 1., passim, ed. 1825. 20 LITERATURE IN NEW ENGLAND. to England. There he wrote his book, describing the country and making fun of his strait-laced adversaries. Its intrinsic merits are small. But the figure of Thomas Morton dancing about his Maypole in reckless jollity, while the godly look on with horror-stricken visages, is like a dash of color in a sombre landscape, and we could better spare a better man. 1 We return to Puritanism in Edward Johnson's Wonder- Working Providence of Siorts Saviour (1654). Johnson was a captain, and a martial spirit animates his pages. The planting of New England with churches of the Reformed Faith is the beginning of God's final campaign against Antichrist; the colonists are soldiers of "their glorious King Christ " ; and the ministers, whose work it is to " sound forth his silver Trumpets," are exhorted to " blow lowd and shrill, to this chiefest treble tune : 'For the Armies of the great Jehovah are at hand.' " 2 This conception gives unity and even a kind of great- ness to the book. But in form it is crude ; much of the subject-matter is dry; and the narrowness and harshness of Puritanism are often painfully apparent. It has been wittily said of the pious settlers of New England that " first they fell on their knees and then they fell on the aborigines." The truth is, rather, that the Puritan sincerely endeavored to convert and educate these poor children of the forest ; but when the red man became hostile, and the torch and tomahawk began their dreadful work, then the white man slew without mercy. Both phases of the colonists' treatment of the Indians are represented in the literature of the period: Captain 1 See Motley's historical romance, Merry-Mount. a Wonder- Working Providence, pp. 23, 7, ed. 1654. RELIGIOUS AND CONTROVERSIAL WORKS. 21 John Mason, the hero of the Pequot War, became in his last years its historian also, telling the story of that terrible slaughter in the swamp with a rough strength that fits the subject well, and ending with a song of triumph as con- fident of God's approval and as pitiless toward God's enemies as the song of the Israelites at the Red Sea. Very different in spirit are the writings of the good John Eliot, which tell of his patient labors for the salvation of the Indians; and the books of Daniel Gookin, which describe the " Praying," or Christian, Indians, and the effect of the gospel upon them. A second class of these early writings consists of Re- ligious and Controversial Works. The modern reader can hardly realize how large a place in the life of the New England Puritans was filled by religion. Attendance upon church was a pleasure to most, a duty to all. Ab- sence was punished by fines or the stocks, and sleepers were awakened by the constable. The meeting-houses were as cold as barns and almost as bare. The services lasted from three to five hours. In the high pulpit stood the minister, awful by reason of his learning, piety, and sacred office, and stormed Heaven in prodigiously long prayers, or thundered down upon the pews the wrath of God in a sermon laid out in many divisions and sub- divisions, all bristling with proof-texts and buttressed with invincible logic. 1 His hearers followed the thought 1 " Then Mr. Torrey stood up and pray'd near Two Hours : . . . towards the End of his Prayer, hinting at still new and agreable Scenes of Tho't, we cou'd not help wishing Him to enlarge upon them: . . . we could have gladly heard Him an Hour longer." — A Harvard stu- dent, writing of a day of prayer in 1696. (Sibley's Harvard Graduates, Vol. I., p. 566.) " He [Thomas Hooker] preached in the afternoon, and having gone on . . . about a quarter of an hour, he was at a stand, and told the people, that God had deprived him both of his strength 22 LITERATURE IN NEW ENGLAND. closely, keen to detect a slip in orthodoxy or reasoning, many taking down the main points in their note-books. To these New England communities the sermon was the great intellectual and literary feast of the week, and the ministers were their great men, venerated by young and old and deferred to even by the magistrates. Of the early clergymen three were preeminent above the rest — John Cotton, Thomas Shepard, and * Thomas Hooker. All three were graduates of Cambridge University, Eng- land, and Cotton had been famous there as a scholar and preacher. All had been clergymen of the English Church ; but being hunted out of England because of their Puritanism, they fled to Massachusetts. Cotton was given the best pulpit in Boston, and there remained till his death, in 1652, the acknowledged leader of the New England clergy. "In his countenance/ ' says Cotton Mather, " there was an inexpressible sort of Majesty, which commanded Reverence from all that approached him." 1 Thomas Shepard, pastor at Cambridge from 1636 to 1649, was greater as a pulpit orator, having a manner peculiarly sweet and persuasive ; his theology partook of the harshness of his age and sect, but he at least presented it with satisfying sincerity and power. Thomas Hooker, who with his congregation founded Hartford in 1636, was a masterful man, of whom a contemporary said that "while doing his Master's work" he "would put a king in his pocket " ; 2 his published sermons show that he was a powerful orator. and matter, &c. and so went forth, and about half an hour after returned again, and went on to very good purpose about two hours." — Winthrop's The History of New England, Vol. I., p. 304, ed. 1825. 1 Magna/ ia t Book III., p. 28, ed. 1702. 2 lbid. t p. 64, ed. 1702. RELIGIOUS AND CONTROVERSIAL WORKS. 25 The mood of the Puritan was militant, and his creed was one long argument; hence controversial writings flowed from his pen like water. In Puritan England the air was thick with pamphlets. Even Milton delayed for twenty years the composition of his great epic that he might serve God and his country in argumentative prose. In Puritan New England, at the same period, contro- versial works also abounded, for the Commonwealth of the Orthodox had found enemies without and within to trouble it — Quakers, Anabaptists, Familists, Antinomians, and what not. These writings have, as a rule, little at- traction for the reader of to-day. The cruelly persecuted Quakers put forth petitions and denunciations, noble in spirit, but without special literary merit. The writings of Roger Williams (i6oo?-i684) have permanent value because they contain great thoughts. In an age when even John Milton, pleading for toleration, made an excep- tion of " Popery and open superstition," which he said " should be extirpate," 1 this Welsh minister boldly pro- claimed the doctrine of universal " soul-liberty," saying, " It is the will and command of God, that ... a permis- sion of the most Paganish, Jewish, Turkish or Antichris- tian consciences and worships, be granted to all men in all Nations." 2 But his books are ill-proportioned, diffuse, and obscure — faults which they share, it is true, with most of the controversial literature of the day. At times, however, he has passages of lucid argument or impas- sioned eloquence ; and his individual sentences are now :.nd then poetical, as when he says, " I fear not so much iron and steel as the cutting of our throats with golden 1 Areopagitica (1644), p. 54, Hales's ed., 1894. * The Bloody Tenent, prefatory propositions, ed. 1644. 24 LITERATURE IN NEW ENGLAND. knives," or speaks of the snow as the " white legions of the Most High." 1 A much more readable little book is Nathaniel Ward's *The Simple Cobler of Aggawam (1647), m which the author slashes away, with more wit than wisdom, in a racy, epigrammatic style, at the mon- strous new doctrine of toleration, long hair on men, the follies of women's dress, and other errors of the time. The book is narrow-minded, angry, sometimes abusive, but it is also amusing ; within a year it went through four editions, and after two centuries and a half is still alive. There is yet a third division of this earliest literature, its Poetry. The first known poem written in New Eng- land was Nova Anglia (1625), by William Morrell, a clergyman of the English Church, who resided in Massa- chusetts for a year or two. The poem describes the country and the Indians, and is written in elegant Latin with a paraphrase in awkward English verse. 2 The New England Puritans were enemies to art in general, believ- ing that its pleasures seduced the soul from God ; yet poetry they both studied and practised. The classics of Greece and Rome formed the backbone of their college curricula, and the writing of English verse, chiefly elegies and epitaphs, was pursued as a pious duty and godly rec- reation by many of the solemn New England divines and other dignitaries. 3 There is no poetry in most of these poems, which are filled to the brim, instead, with puns 1 Letters, in Publications of Narragansett Club, Vol. VI., pp. 15, 84. 2 Griswold, in his Poets and Poetry of America, quotes some anony- mous doggerel about life in New England, which he says is M believed to have been written about the year 1630." 3 Morton's New England's Me?noriat entombs many of these remark- able productions. Johnson's Wonder-Working Providence is inter- spersed with the worthy captain's would-be metrical manufactures; to *ead them is like being tossed on the points of bayonets. SEVENTEENTH CENTURY POETRY. 25 and strained " conceits," in imitation of the contempo- rary "metaphysical" or "fantastic" poets of England, Thus the Rev. Samuel Stone was lauded as Whetstone, that edgefy'd th' obtusest mind : Loadstone, that drew the iron heart unkind; . . • A stone for kingly David's use so fit, As would not fail Goliah's front to hit. 1 And Rev. John Cotton was described as "a Living Breath- ing Bible," where Gospel and Law, in's Heart, had Each its Column; His Head an Index to the Sacred Volume; His very name a Title-Page ; and next, His Life a Commentary on the Text. 2 In The Whole Booke of Psaltnes? consisting of the Psalms translated into English verse by " the chief divines in the country," to be sung in church, the style and verse are simply barbarous. Some of the lines it is quite impossi- ble to scan by any methods however heroic, and most of them clank like an engine with gravel in the bearings. 4 Let a few lines speak for the whole : — 1 By " E. B." (Edward Bulkley ?) in New England's Memorial, p. 180, ed. 1772. 2 B. Woodbridge, in Magnalia, Book III., p. 31, ed. 1702. 8 Usually known as The Bay Psalm Book. 4 The translators themselves say, in the preface, " If therefore the verses are not always so smooth and elegant as some may desire, . . . wee have . . . attended . . . fidelity rather then poetry." But the trans- lators of The Psalms, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs, which appeared a few years later, say they have had " a special eye both to the gravity of the phrase of Sacred Writ, and sweetness of the Verse" — with what Success let the following lines from the Song of Deborah testify : — He water ask'd, she gave him : in Lordly dish she fetch'd Him butter forth : unto the nayl she forth her left hand stretch'd. 26 LITERATURE IN NEW ENGLAND. Then th' earth shooke, & quak't, & mountaines roots moov'd, & were stird at his ire. — Psalm 1 8 : 7. 1 In death no mem'ry is of thee and who shall prayse thee in the grave ? I faint with groanes, all night my bed swims, I with tears my couch washt have. — Psalm 6:5, 6. 1 But better things were coming. In 1650 there ap- peared in London a volume of poems entitled, The Tenth Muse lately sprung up in America. The Tenth Muse was *Mrs, Anne Bradstreet (161 3- 1672), wife of Gov- ernor Simon Bradstreet and daughter of Governor Thomas Dudley. Her longest poem, The Foure Mon- archies, is a bald, dry chronicle in rhyme. The Foure Elements, The Foure Humours, The Four Ages of Man, and *The Foure Seasons are not much better, although they occasionally have considerable vivacity and vividness. But in some of her shorter poems appear a lightness and prettiness, a feminine tenderness and fancy; while in the Spenser-like stanzas called * Contemplations there is much sweetness and flow of verse, and the pictures of nature have a good deal of placid beauty. In more favorable circumstances, Mrs. Bradstreet would probably have developed into a very intellectual woman and a beautiful minor poet. 2 But Puritanism and the crudeness Her right hand to the workmans maul and Sisera hammered : She pierc'd and struck his temples through, and then cut off his head. — The Psalms, Hym?is, and Spiritual So?igs, ed. 1658 (?). 2 The Whole Dooke of Psahnes, ed. 1640. 2 Among her descendants were W. E. Channing, R. H. Dana, Wen- SEVENTEENTH CENTURY POETRY. 27 of the New World stunted her mental growth and clipped her wings of song. She took for her models the poorer half of the literature of her day. Spenser she indeed knew, and Raleigh's noble History of the World was the basis of her Fonre Monarchies. But Shakspere and his fellow dramatists she never mentions ; no doubt to her, as to all her sect, they were sons of Belial. Her favorite poets seem to have been of the " fantastic " school, who had more gift for puns and quirks and ingenious con- ceits than for the passion, imagination, and melody of true poesie. New England Puritanism found its poet-laureate in Michael Wigglesworth (1 631-1705), a graduate of Harvard College, and pastor and physician at Maiden. His Meat out of the Eater (1669), on the "usefulness of afflictions," teaches that We must not on the Knee Be always dandled, Nor must we think to ride to Heaven Upon a Feather-bed. 1 His masterpiece is *The Day of Doom (1662 ?), 2 for a century the most popular book in New England after the Bible and the Catechism. The essence of Calvinism dell Phillips, and O. W. Holmes. Her Meditations contain some pithy sayings : "Authority without wisedom is like a heavy axe without an edg, fitter to bruise then polish;" " Dimne eyes are the concomi- tants of old age; and short sightednes in those that are eyes of a Republique, fortels a declineing State." See the 1867 edition of her works, pp. lxix, 50, 55. 1 Meat out of the Eater, p. 4, ed. 17 17. 2 See The Historical Magazine, December, 1863, for an article by John W. Dean, containing memoranda by Wigglesworth, about the dates of the two poems. The first edition of The Day of Doom, of 1800 «£>pies, was nearly all sold in a year. 28 LITERATURE IN NEW ENGLAND. 5s in the poem. Christ suddenly appears in the sky at midnight, in a blinding glory ; the quick and the dead are brought before him ; the various classes of the lost, including non-elect infants, plead for mercy with much logical acumen, but are all refuted by Christ ; the plunge into a lurid physical hell follows, the infants being as- signed to "the easiest room ,, ; x and the saints, sorrowing not " a whit ,Jl for the damnation of wife, husband, parent, or child (" such compassion " being now "out of fashion, and wholly laid aside" 1 ), ascend into heaven to enjoy its pleasures forever. In manner The Day of Doom is dreadfully crabbed and harsh; but the metre has a cheap jingle pleasing to dull ears, while the crude strength and bald realism of the style suited the Yankee Puritan's strenuous, practical mind. There is sublimity, too, in the horrible conceptions of the poem, but it is the ghastly sublimity of a colossal skeleton grinning the grin of Eternal Death. How hard and narrow and meanly literal this epic of New England Calvinism is, how devoid of the noble sublime with its attendant grace and beauty, becomes painfully apparent when we compare it with another Puritan poem of the same period and upon a similar theme — the Paradise Lost of John Milton. 2 The last quarter of the seventeenth century was marked by changes, significant fcr literature, in the spirit of the colonists. Most of the inhabitants of New England were now American born, loving the land of their fathers but 1 The Day of Doom, stanzas 181, 197, 196, ed. 1715. 2 The Day of Doom may have been somewhat influenced by Stir- ling's Doomes-Day (1614), although the similarity in general plan and occasionally in expression is perhaps sufficiently accounted for by their Vaving a common original. COTTON MATHER. 29 regarding America as their own country. Society and state were becoming more secular and liberal. The right to vote was no longer confined to members of Congrega- tional churches; the growth of population, trade, and wealth brought with it a widening of interests ; religion and the church filled a relatively smaller place ; and the severity of Puritan morals and the intolerance of Puritan theology began to be somewhat relaxed. 1 Yet Religious and Controversial Writings abounded as before ; for the clergy were still powerful, and the supposed degeneracy of the times urged them to activity. 2 In particular, Cot- ton Mather (1663-1728), the great man of his day, set himself to stem the ebbing tide. He was the grand- son of two of the early giants, John Cotton and Richard Mather; and his father, Increase Mather, was president of Harvard College, a powerful preacher, and prolific author. In his sixteenth year Mather received the bachelor's degree at Harvard ; and before he was nine- teen, the master's degree. He then became his father's 1 John Cotton approved of the banishment of Roger Williams in 1636. His grandson, Cotton Mather, in 1718 preached the sermon at the ordination of a Baptist minister. 2 The worldly vanity of wearing wigs, a custom which was now becoming common among the descendants of the " Round-heads," is thus attacked by Benjamin Bosworth in Signs of Apostacy Lamented {1693) : — When Perriwigs in Thrones and Pulpits get, And Hairy Top-knots in high Seats are set; Then may we Pray, have Mercy Lord on us, That in New-England it should now be thus, Which in time past a Land of Pray'r hath been, But now is Pray'r turn'd out of Doors by Sin. , . % Art thou a Christian, O then why dost wear Upon thy Sacred Head, the filthy Hair Of some vile Wretch, by foul Disease that fell, Whose Soul perhaps is burning now in Hell ? 3 o LITERATURE IN NEW ENGLAND. assistant in the pastorate of the North Church, Boston, where he remained till death. Cotton Mather read enormously in many languages, preached thousands of sermons, and published three hundred and eighty-three pamphlets or books. 1 It is no wonder that such a man wrote over his study door, as a warning to visitors, Be Short. In boyhood he composed forms of prayer for his school-fellows and " obliged them to pray." In later life, each day was packed full of prayers, study, and minis- trations public or private. He kept more than four hun- dred fasts, besides many midnight vigils, when he lay for hours on his study floor, now in agonies over his "vile- ness," now in spiritual ecstasy. At odd moments through- out the day he wedged in pious ejaculations, at one time fining himself for each omission — which worked a speedy cure. Every incident must be spiritually improved : on meeting a tall man he would pray, " Lord, give that man high attainments in Christianity " ; " and when he did so mean an action as paring his nails, he thought how he might lay aside all superfluity of naughtiness." In his writings Mather strove mightily to bring New England back to the Puritan ideal of godliness. This purpose is the inspiration of his great work, *Magnalia Christi Americana : or, the Ecclesiastical History of New-Eng- land (1702), which treats of the planting of New England^ the lives of eminent magistrates and divines, Harvard Col- lege, the New England churches, wonderful providences (including cases of witchcraft), and " the Wars of the 1 Samuel Mather's Life of Cotton Mather, p. 178, ed. 1729; from which most of the other facts, and all the quotations, about Mather are also taken. Sabin's Bibliotheca Americana attributes four hundred and eleven works to Cotton Mather. Three hundred and eighty-three are enough. COTTON MATHER. 31 Lord," or the struggles with Quakers, Anabaptists, Ind- ians, and other disturbers of the peace of the Puritan elect. The book has some historical value, because the writer was so near to the events narrated; but it is careless, fantastic, and full of pedantry, the pages being crammed with Latin, Greek, and Hebrew, learned digressions, and abominable puns. Yet the narrative portions sometimes have considerable interest, anecdotes frequently enliven an otherwise dull passage, and the whole book is impres- sive by its bulky strength. Cotton Mather's contempo- rary reputation in America was very great, and it even extended to the Old World. 1 He lives still, after a fashion, as the most conspicuous American writer of the seventeenth century. Yet on the whole his life was a failure, and has the pathos of failure ; for he fought on the side of a doomed cause. Puritanism was passing away, never to return, and even Cotton Mather battled for it in vain. 2 1 Glasgow University gave him the degree of D.D.; and it is now known that he really was made a Fellow of the Royal Society (see Cotton Mather's Election into the Royal Society, by G. L. Kittredge, in Publications of the Colonial Society of Massachusetts, Vol. XIV. 2 The titles of the chief writings of Cotton and of Increase Mather Upon witchcraft can be seen in Appendix, C. It is easy to exaggerate the culpability of the Mather^ in the horrible delusion of the Salem Witchcraft. Belief in witches was still common throughout the civil- ized world, some of the best and wisest men in England sharing in it. In New England, furthermore, there was a popular theory that the legions of the Devil, largely driven out of Christian Europe, had taken refuge in the wilds of America ; and that, dismayed and furious at the Puritans' attack upon this their final stronghold, they had marshalled their forces for one desperate assault upon the New England Theoc- racy. In the supposed degeneracy of the New England churches of his day Cotton Mather thus saw the special hand of the Devil ; and the witches were soldiers of the Prince of Darkness in the same great jampaign. This conception was a large one, and is a good example oJ 32 LITERATURE IN NEW ENGLAND. Of the many able New England divines in the first half of the eighteenth century three may be mentioned as representative — John Wise, Benjamin Colman, and Mather Byles. The writings of all reveal the influence of the simpler, clearer, more systematic prose style which had begun to prevail in England before the end of the preceding century. Wise, a man of powerful body and powerful mind, whose fame has not equalled his deserts, in his two books on church government shows broad democratic principles, masterful logic, and a sinewy style enlivened by sarcasm and humor. Colman was a man of great personal charm and charitable spirit, a fascinat- ing pulpit orator, and a writer of polished Addisonian Eng- lish. Byles, poet, wit, and man of letters, cultivated the graces of style as an element in the preacher's power, and in the following advice to young ministers he aims directly at faults of the older style : " Rattling periods, uncouth jargon, affected phrases, and finical jingles — let them the gloomy but powerful poetry which underlay the prosaic life of the New England Puritans, in whom such imaginations had been quickened by the romance and mystery of the New World with its strange natives and vast and wooded solitudes. The conception was also a perfectly natural one for men holding the Puritan theology and confronted with a series of mysterious facts much like the modern phenomena of spirit- ualism, clairvoyance, and hypnotism. Some allowance must also be made for the panic which always threatens individuals and communi- ties in the presence of supposedly supernatural agencies with mys- terious and unlimited power. New England was badly scared by the witches, and there is nothing more cruel than fear. It should, however, be remembered to Cotton Mather's credit that he did not believe in convicting witches on " spectral evidence " alone, for the characteristic reason that the devils might have power to cause the apparitions of in- nocent persons to be seen by the bewitched as the cause of their tor- ments, and the " campaign *' against the godly thus go on all the more merrily ; he believed in the efficacy of fasting and prayer, and himself tried this means of exorcism with some success. JONATHAN EDWARDS. 33 be . . . hissed from the desk and blotted from the page." 1 In the case of most of the clergymen of this period the new graces were accompanied by some loss of the old power. Not so with *Jonathan Edwards (1703-1758), one of the great philosophical intellects of the world. He graduated at Yale College in 1720 ; was tutor there for awhile; in 1727 was ordained at Northampton; in 1 75 1 became missionary to a settlement of Indians near Stockbridge; assumed the presidency of Princeton Col- lege in 1758, but died soon after from inoculation for small pox. In the popular mind Jonathan Edwards is merely the author of * Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God (1741), the terrible preacher of the most hateful dogmas of Calvinism — a wholly inadequate view of a wonderful man. Personally he was of almost angelic sweetness and purity, an intellectual saint rapt into high communion with the Invisible ; and his conception of God, although it included many dark and terrible things, also dwelt with ecstasy upon the ineffable Love and Beauty of the Divine Being. He was an idealist and essentially a poet, seeing in the brightest glories of the material universe only a dim shadow of the blinding Loveliness of Infinite Spirit. His intellect was of the first order. At twelve he thought and wrote in a way beyond the power of most men ; while a tutor at Yale he showed remarkable originality in science, suggesting the existence of a cosmic ether and demonstrating that the fixed stars are suns ; and his Freedom of the Will (1754) has been called "the one large contribution which 1 Ordination sermon, New London, 1758, as quoted in Tyler's A His- tory of American Literature, Vol. II., p. 195. D 34 LITERATURE IN NEW ENGLAND. America has made to the deeper philosophic thought of the world." 1 As a preacher, Edwards had wonderful power. In his little parish at Northampton began the Great Awakening, for which the churches of New England had thirsted for half a century, and which spread over America and extended even to Great Britain. He usually read his sermons, and his manner was very quiet. But the style was clear as light, the logic cumulative and un- answerable, the spiritual intensity tremendous. His hearers felt themselves in the grip of a giant intellect. Pitilessly it laid bare their sins. Irresistibly it dragged them, all vile, into the presence of Absolute Holiness and Inexorable Justice. Hell flamed beneath them. It yawned to catch them. Women fainted ; men cried out in agony ; only the preacher was calm, and his calmness was more terrible than excitement. In taking leave of Jonathan Edwards, it is impossible not to regret that his environment led him so largely to waste his magnificent powers upon theological problems which the world was soon to leave behind. If he could have given himself to literature, science, or pure philosophy, mankind would be the richer. Yet as it is, he is one of the very few American writers whose fame is world-wide. Journals, Narratives, and Histories were even more numerous in this later portion of the colonial period than in the earlier. The * Diary of Judge Samuel Sewall, from 1674 to 1729, gives very interesting and sometimes very amusing pictures of the man and the times — the 1 See A. V. G. Allen's life of Edwards (American Religious Leaders series), p. 283, where the quotation is given, anonymously. For a statement of Edwards's main theses about the will, see page 192 of thi r History. JOURNALS, NARRATIVES, AND HISTORIES. 35 harmless vanity, love of creature comforts, hatred of wigs, and mingled shrewdness and simplicity of the one ; the political troubles, quaint customs, systematic piety, and abundance of human nature (regenerate and unre- generate) in the other. The * Journal of Sarah K. Knight, containing an account of her journey from Boston to New York in 1704, is one of the most enter- taining things in American colonial literature, light of touch, graphic, bubbling over with wit and humor. Indian troubles, King Philip's War in particular, sup- plied much interesting material for histories and per- sonal narratives. William Hubbard's Narrative of the Troubles with the Indians (1677), written in plain, clear style which the subject-matter sometimes lifts into graphicness, soon became a classic and is good reading still. The * Narrative of the Captivity (i632?), by Mary Rowlandson, who was made a captive by the Indians during King Philip's War, describes, in words that bring the dreadful scenes powerfully before the eye, the burning of Lancaster, the bloody slaughter of men, women, and children, her weary journeyings through the wilds; with her brutal captors (she carrying her wounded baby in her arms) , and her final ransom. John Williams's The Redeemed Captive (1707) is a narrative of similar ex- periences after the burning of Deerfield by the Indians in 1 704. Thomas Church's Entertaining Passages Relating to Philip's War (1716) was based upon the notes of the author's father, Benjamin Church, the doughty Indian fighter, whose forces finally caught and slew the great chief; and a hearty, idiomatic piece of writing it is, con- taining many exciting scenes. The histories of Penhallow (i726),Callender (1739), Douglass (1755), and others, 36 LITERATURE IN NEW ENGLAND. although valuable, are less significant than Thomas Prince's Chronological History of New England (1736), which by its scholarly carefulness and fairness prophesied future methods of writing history, and was " the most meritori- ous piece of historical work published in America up to that date." * Poetry in these same years shows, on the whole, little real improvement. " Fantastic " hobbling elegies and other poems continued to be written for a while. Cot- ton Mather, unwilling to be outdone in anything, pro- duced several of atrocious badness. 2 John Norton, Jom* Rogers, and Urian Oakes wrote with some dignity and imagination, although the total effect is greatly marred by extravagances and unnatural " conceits." 3 Honest Peter Folger blurted out a blunt, manly plea for reli- gious toleration, in homely verse that at least cannot be 1 Tyler's A History of American Literature \ Vol. II., p. 145. In his love of accuracy and original sources Prince belongs to the contem- porary " erudite " school of historians, who all over Europe were amass- ing, with a painstaking and critical spirit that was new, vast stores of material for the re-writing of history. Stith's The History of Virginia shows the same tendency. See Professor J. F. Jameson's The Devel- opment of Modern European Historiography ', in The Atlantic Monthly, September, 1890. 2 In his elegy on Oakes (p. 11, ed. 1682) he stays his tears to remark, How many Angels on a Needle's point Can stand, is thought, perhaps, a needless Point ; and, in the preface to the same poem, for the consolation of bereaved Boston he presents the anagram, Sob Not. His more impassioned elegiac style may be seen in these lines from Vigilantius, a poem occa- sioned by the death of seven young ministers (Elegies and Epitaphs, a reprint in The Club of Odd Volumes, 1896) : — Churches, Weep on ; & Wounded yield your Tears ; Tears use to flow from hack't New English Firrs. * See Norton's and Rogers's eulogies on Anne Bradstreet, in the 186J edition of her works. EIGHTEENTH CENTURY POETRY. 37 accused of artifice. Benjamin Thomson's poems show some satiric vigor and give promise of better things to come. Yet Nicholas Noyes, the last and perhaps the worst of the fantastics, did not cease from his ingenious devices in punning song until the eighteenth century was well on its way. 1 But the new school of poetry in England, represented by Dryden and Pope, was already affecting American verse, and early in the eighteenth century it became supreme. The good sense, clearness, and polish of this so-called " classic " poetry, its conven- tional diction, too, its overfondness for antithesis, balance, and other rhetorical tricks, its tendency in general to smooth commonplace and frigid propriety, are all echoed in the poems of Francis Knapp, Benjamin Colman, Jane Turrell, Roger Wolcott, Mather Byles, Rev. John Adams, and others. 2 In *A Collection of Poems by several Hands (1744), along with much commonplace and some doggerel are a few rather pretty or vivacious lines, while the poem describing a commencement at Harvard contains several lively passages. The coarse verses of John Seccomb, although much overrated, have some humor; and those of * Joseph Green are often bright and witty. The rough ballads of the time, such as the anonymous LoveweWs Fight (1725), have native vigor and spirit. Samuel Niles's A Brief and Plain Essay (1747), on the reduction of Louisburg, is nothing but rhymed prose of the baldest, dreariest sort. John Maylem's Conquest of Louisburg (1758) and Gallic 1 A Prefatory Poem in the Magnalia is by Noycs. 2 Byles wrote a letter of fulsome (lattery to Pope, and received in re- turn a eopy of the latter's translation of the Odyssey. See Stedman and Hutehinson's A Library of American Literature, Vol. II., p. 431, for the letter. 38 LITERATURE IN THE OTHER COLONIES. Perfidy (1758) are all in valiant Pistol's swaggering vein, amusing instances of rant mistaken for force, and bom- bast for sublimity. The line, Death, blunderbuss, artillery, and blood ! 1 both exemplifies and describes the style of this gory- minded poet, who took for his pseudonyme Philo-Belluni. After these exhibitions of New World crudeness and bad taste, it is almost a pleasure to turn to the smooth con- ventionalisms of Pietas et Grahdatio (1761), a collection of poems in Latin, Greek, and English, by graduates of Harvard, mourning the death of George II., and hailing the accession of George III. in strains of extravagant praise which the events of the next few years were to make doubly ridiculous. The time for New England to speak in verse was not yet come. Her best utterance as yet had been in prose ; and that, as we have seen, was far from despicable. 3. LITERATURE IN THE OTHER COLONIES. The Carolinas and Georgia produced little literature in colonial times. John Archdale, formerly governor of the colony, published in 1707 A New Description of That Fertile and Pleasant Province of Carolina. Two years later appeared The History of Carolina by John Lawson, containing his journal of a thousand miles of travel in South Carolina, a description of North Carolina, and an account of the Indians ; the book is written in a free, flowing style, and is packed full of keen observation. The letters of Eliza Pinckney afford interesting glimpses 1 The Conquest of Louisburg, p. 6, ed. 1775 ( ?). THE MIDDLE COLONIES. 39 of life in South Carolina in the middle of the eighteenth century, showing that in Charleston there was much social gayety and considerable literary culture. A New Voyage to Georgia (1737), "by a young gentleman," gives a vivid idea of the difficulty of travelling in a new country covered with woods, creeks, and swamps, and describes some interesting incidents in a lively way. Several other descriptions of the young colony were published at about the same time. Among them was A True and Historical Narrative of the Colony of Georgia (1741), by Patrick Tailfer and other discontents, an arraignment of Gov- ernor Oglethorpe for alleged mismanagement ; it is writ- ten in strong, finished style, and the dedication to Oglethorpe is a fine piece of irony. Of the Middle Colonies Pennsylvania alone developed much literary activity. In Maryland the only two not- able works were written by temporary sojourners in the colony. George Alsop's A Character of the Province of Mary- Land (1666), in verse and prose, is a " medley of frolicsome papers," full of "grotesque and slashing en- ergy," * describing the colony and its inhabitants. Half a century later appeared The Sot- Weed Factor : Or, A Voyage to Maryland (1708), by Ebenezer Cook; the poem is often coarse and sometimes dull, but it has many spirited scenes and a good deal of real humor. In 1670 Daniel Denton put out a rather fresh little book paint- ing life in the colony of New York in rosy colors, with occasional pretty strokes of description. Cadwallader Colden of New York wrote a History of the Five Indian Nations (1727), filled with petty engagements dryly told and dull speeches ; the introduction, however, has 1 Tyler's A History of American Literature, Vol. I., p. 66. 40 LITERATURE IN THE OTHER COLONIES. some interesting descriptions of Indian customs. Wil- liam Smith's The History of New York (1757) is a plain and heavy work, but contains valuable information. A man of greater literary gifts was William Livingston, promi- nent as a statesman in the period of the Revolution ; his first appearance, however, was as a poet in Philosophic Solitude (1747), which is written in the conventional eighteenth-century manner, but is smooth and pretty. In literary activity Pennsylvania soon became second only to Massachusetts, more than four hundred original books or pamphlets being printed in Philadelphia before the Revolution. 1 William Penn and his associates in the founding of the colony believed in education and intel- lectual freedom ; " before the pines had been cleared from the ground he began to build schools and set up a printing press," 2 and "through every turnpike in that province ideas travelled toll free." 3 Penn himself during his residence in the colony wrote nothing except letters : these, however, are pleasant reading, something of the large, calm beauty of his spirit passing into his style. The long letter written in 1683 to the Free Society of Traders contains an interesting description of the Ind- ians, whose friendship Penn so well knew how to win. 4 Gabriel Thomas published an account of the province in 1698, a rather pleasing little book for its simpleness and innocent exaggeration. 5 Jonathan Dickenson, a 1 T. I. Wharton's The Prov'mcial Literature of Pennsylvania, p. 124- as cited in Tyler's A History 0/ American Literature, Vol. II., pp. 227, 228. 2 W. H. Dixon's William I^enn, p. 207. 3 Tyler's A History of American Literature, Vol. II., p. 226. 4 See Janney's Life of William Penn, p. 238, ed. 1852. 6 "The Christian Children born here," he says, " are generally well- favoured and Beautiful to behold ; . . . being in the general, observ'd THE PHILADELPHIA WRITERS. 41 Philadelphia merchant, in his God's Protecting Providence (1699), described very graphically his shipwreck on the coast of Florida. James Logan, Penn's representative in the colony and for a time president of the council, wrote much and well on many subjects, although little has been printed. His translation of Cicero's De Senectute (1 744) , however, was published during his lifetime ; as was also his Catd 's Moral Dis ticks Englished in Couplets (1735), in which the following couplet is perhaps the neatest : — Slip not the Season when it suits thy Mind ; Time wears his Lock before^ is bald behind. x William Smith's^ General Idea of the College of Mirania (1753) is noteworthy because of its Addisonian style, its anticipation of some modern ideals in education, and the form of a romance in which the whole is cast. 2 In addi- tion to these and other general writers, there were in Philadelphia, during the first half of the eighteenth cen- tury, several men, such as Henry Brooke, Aquila Rose, Samuel Keimer, James Ralph, George Webb, and Jo- seph Shippen, who had the knack of throwing off poems of more or less grace and spirit, and who testify to the existence, thus early, of literary atmosphere and literary ambitions in the Quaker City. A poet of greater ability and of much greater promise was Thomas Godfrey ( 1 736-1 763). Most of his Juvenile Poems are tame echoes of the conventional pastoral, elegy, and ode as these were then written in England ; but a few of them, especially * The Court of Fancy, were evidently inspired to be better Natur'd, Milder, and more tender Hearted than those born in England." — An Account, etc., p. 42, in N. Y. Hist. Soc.'s facsimile. 1 Cato's Moral Distichs, p. 14, ed. 1735. 2 More's Utopia seems to have been its model. 42 LITERATURE IN THE OTHER COLONIES. by the earlier and fresher English poets, Chaucer in particular, and have a good deal of melody, fancy, and vividness. His best work, however, is *The Prince of Parthia, a tragedy showing the influence of both the Elizabethan and the Restoration Drama, and, in spite of many faults, containing much real poetic power. 1 God- frey's native endowment in poetry seems to have been far greater than that of any American writer before him, and it is probable that if he had lived to maturity he would have become a very considerable poet. His friend and editor, Nathaniel Evans, also wrote poems of some promise, having a certain freedom and largeness of utterance, but his life was cut short in 1767. The early writings of Benjamin Franklin fall within the colonial period, but the consideration of them will, for convenience, be deferred to a later page. 1 It was acted in Philadelphia, in 1767. II. THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. (1765-1789.) HISTORICAL EVENTS. Stamp Act, 1765 ; repealed, 1766. Duties on tea, paper, etc., 1767. Boston Massacre, 1770. Boston Tea-Party, 1773. Boston Port-Bill, 1774. First Continental Congress, 1774. Engagements at Lexington and Concord, April 19, 1775. Battle of Bunker Hill, June 17, 1775. Declaration of Independence, 177& Burgoyne's surrender, 1777. French alliance, 1778. Surrender of Corn wallis, 178 1. Peace treaty, 1783. Shays's Rebellion, 1786-1787. Constitutional Convention, 1787. Constitution adopted, 1788. LITERATURE IN ENGLAND. Johnson, 1709-1784. Sterne, 1713-1768. Goldsmith, 1728-1774. Churchill's satires, 1761-1764. Poems of " Ossian," 1762. Romantic novels : Castle of Otranto, 1762; Old English Baron, 1772; Vathek, 1784. Cawper, 1731-1800. Letters of "Junius" (collected edition), 1772. Hume, 1711-1776. Burke, 1729-1797. Gibbon, 1737-1794. Crabbe's early poems, 1775-1785. Blake's early poems, 1783-1789. In speaking of the literature of the Colonial Period it was necessary to observe geographical lines, because the several groups of colonies were so isolated and had so little in common. The literature of the Revolutionary Period has more unity, for the colonies were now driven together by a common danger and animated by a common spirit. The attempt of Great Britain to tax Americans by act of Parliament welded thirteen scattered and diverse commonwealths into one nation and made possible the beginnings of a national literature. 43 44 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. The same forces which gave a certain unity to the Revolutionary literature also gave to much of it a political cast, the struggle for freedom leaving little time or energy for purely literary pursuits. And indeed the conditions otherwise were not yet ripe for much successful cultivation of belles lettres or any of the fine arts. The colonies or states were still comparatively isolated and diverse. The Southern planter and the Northern farmer represented distinct types ; the descendants of fighting Scotch High- landers in North Carolina were of quite another spirit from the peaceful Quakers of Pennsylvania ; the numer- ous Dutch, Swedes, and Germans in the Middle States gave to those communities a complexion noticeably differ- ent from that of the Anglo-Saxon communities of New England and Virginia ; Catholicism was still dominant in Maryland, Episcopacy in- the South, Congregationalism in the North. And communication between the states was difficult. In an age without railroads, steamships, or telegraphs, Virginia was practically much farther from Massachusetts than it is to-day from California ; the stage- coach running between New York and Philadelphia, which was called the Flying Machine because of its surprising speed, took two days to make the trip ; and " more mails are now each day sent out and received in New York than in Washington's time went from the same city to all parts of the country in the course of half a year." * The population of three or four millions was still largely agri- cultural. 2 As late as 1786 Boston had only 15,000 in- habitants, New York 23,000, and Philadelphia 32,000. 1 McMaster's A History of the People of the United States, Vol. I., p. 41. 2 At the beginning of the war, it has been estimated, the population was 2,750,000. The census of 1790 showed a population of 3,929,214, of which only three per cent lived in cities of 8000 inhabitants or more. STATE PAPERS. 45 Life in the states as a whole was still plain, and in many parts rude. Education in the South languished. Great public libraries and art collections were unknown. Even in the older regions America was yet too young to have fine architecture, painting, or sculpture ; and a few miles back from the waters of the Atlantic the country was " little better than a great wilderness." l Yet literary taste and literary talent were showing signs of improvement and growth. Literary ideals continued, of course, to be bor- rowed from England. But although there was to be, for many years yet, a great deal of imitation, much of it slavish enough, the average of ability in letters was higher than it had been in colonial days, while a few writers showed large talent and some originality. The political literature of the period may mostly be comprised under State Papers, Speeches, and Essays. The State Papers, consisting of petitions, remonstrances, declarations of rights, etc., form a body of exceedingly able documents, noble in spirit, solid in thought, strong and dignified in style. " When your lordships look at the papers transmitted us from America/ ' said Chatham in 1 775, "when you consider their decency, firmness, and wisdom, you cannot but respect their cause." 2 The Declaration of Independence, written by Thomas Jeffer- son, has, however, somewhat tarnished with time, in matter and manner alike having some tinge of the sopho- "noric. But its bold enunciation of great principles, its kofty passion for liberty, and its elastic, ringing style stirred the souls of its first readers, and have stirred the 1 McMaster's A History of the People of the United States, Vol. I., p. 3. 2 Hansard's The Parliamentary History of England, Vol. XVIII, p. 155, note. 46 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. souls of millions since ; for Jefferson poured into it a great faith in a great ideal — Democracy. 1 The Speeches of the period, including debates, formal orations, and political sermons, maintained a high general level, and in a few instances reached a lofty pitch of eloquence. The greatest orator of the North was James Otis of Massachusetts. Of his speech against writs of assistance, in 1761, the first bugle-note of the coming Revolution, John Adams (who heard it) says that it was characterized by " such a profusion of learning, such convincing argument, and such a torrent of sublime and pathetic eloquence, that a great crowd of spectators and auditors went away absolutely electrified." 2 The great- est Revolutionary orator of the emotional type was Patrick Henry of Virginia, inferior to many of his contemporaries in learning, judgment, 3 and practical efficiency, but endowed with the gift of passionate elo- quence. His famous speech before the Virginia Con- vention, in 1775, rivals the oratory of Chatham for terse strength and fiery logic. For ten years before the war of arms began, all America rang with a war of words. It was the day of the Political Essay in pamphlet or newspaper. The country was a house divided against itself; for the Loyalists, a numer- ous, wealthy, and cultured class, vigorously opposed all measures which tended toward a rupture with the mother country. In the writings put forth by both sides the in- 1 Jefferson's emphasis upon abstract ideals, borrowed from contem- porary French thought, was doubtless a valuable supplement to the Anglo-Saxon instinct of most of his countrymen to rest wholly upon historic precedent. 2 John Adams's Works, Vol. X., p. 183. 3 In 1788 he hotly opposed the adoption of the Constitution. POLITICAL ESSAYS. 47 tellectual force, political knowledge, and literary ability are on the whole surprisingly great ; but a rapid and very imperfect survey must here suffice. In the summer of 1764, amidst the general alarm caused by the report that Parliament intended to lay new and heavier taxes upon the colonies, James Otis again came forward as the champion of American freedom with a pamphlet entitled, The Rights of the British Colonies Asserted and Proved, in which he declared that "no parts of his Majesty's dominions can be taxed without their consent," * and urged that the colonies be allowed to send representatives to Parliament. In the next year appeared a reply, purporting to be A Letter from a Gentle- man at Halifax to His Friend in Rhode Island, and argu- ing that the colonies were no worse off than the majority of the inhabitants of Great Britain itself, who (under the system then prevailing) had no voice in electing members to Parlia- ment. It was soon discovered that the author was really a Newport lawyer, Martin Howard ; whereupon a mob gutted his house, smashed his furniture, and forced the hated Tory himself to flee for refuge to a British man-of- war. The fierce intolerance of the Puritan was not yet dead even in the colony of Roger Williams. Otis's own career was cut short four years later by a brutal assault which finally left him a mental wreck. 2 The political services of another Massachusetts patriot, Samuel Adams, were of much longer continuance ; " for nearly a third of a cen- tury," says Professor Tyler, he " kept flooding the com- munity with his ideas, chiefly in the form of essays in the 1 Page 99, ed. 1765. 2 On the day of the battle of Bunker Hill he escaped from his attend* ants and took part in the fight. He was killed by lightning in 1783. 48 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. newspapers." l His industry was indefatigable. A friend who often had to pass his house after midnight has said that the study lamp was usually burning, and " he knew that Sam Adams was hard at work writing against the Tories." 2 His style was practical and plain, but very effective ; "every dip of his pen," said Governor Bernard, one of his victims, " stung like a horned snake." 3 The repeal of the Stamp Act was followed by a lull in pamphleteering. But the imposition of new duties upon glass, paints, tea, and other prominent imports, soon stirred up the strife anew. Again the printing presses groaned, again the paper legions flew to wordy war. The most celebrated of the essays called forth by the new imposts were the Letters of a Fart?ier in Pennsylvania to the Inhabitants of the British Colonies, by John Dickin- son, which appeared first in a Philadelphia newspaper in 1 76 7-1 768, and were read throughout America and Europe. They deserved their fame, for nothing of the kind could be more admirable. They were written in neat, clear-cut style, showed easy mastery of the funda- mental principles of government, and while firm and courageous were moderate and fair-minded. But the ten- sion increased from year to year; and in 1 774-1 775 the stream of essays and pamphlets became a flood. " The Westchester Farmer," in a series of pamphlets, laid about him right and left, as with a flail. He showed the injury to the farmers which must result from the recent agree- ments to stop trading with England ; denounced Con- gress as an illegal and tyrannical body ; and cried, " If I must be devoured, let me be devoured by the jaws of a 1 The Literary History of the American Revolution, Vol. II., p. 9. 2 Wells's Life of Samuel Adams, Vol. I., pp. 202, 203. 8 John Adams's Works, Vol II., p. 425. POLITICAL ESSAYS. 49 lion, and not gnawed to death by rats and vermin." 1 These pamphlets were the most powerful that the Loyal- ist side produced, sinewy in style, electrically charged with passion, wit, sarcasm, and logic. They heartened the Tories. They put the Radicals on their mettle. The two ablest replies, A Full Vindication of the Meas- ures of the Congress, and The Farmer Refuted, were both from the pen of Alexander Hamilton, the most preco- cious statesman of America, if not of the world. They were written when he was only eighteen years old, an undergraduate at King's College, yet they showed such learning, political wisdom, and general maturity that they were commonly attributed at first to much older and well-known public men. Meanwhile an answer of quite another sort was preparing. The " Farmer " was (prob- ably rightly) suspected to be Samuel Seabury, an Epis- copalian clergyman of Westchester, N. Y., and a mob finally pillaged his house, insulted his daughters, and dragged him off to prison. Hardly less powerful and even more adroit than Seabury's pamphlets were the letters of " Massachusettensis," by Daniel Leonard, a prominent lawyer and politician, which at about the same time began to appear in a Boston newspaper. John Adams, who answered them, had already won some fame as a political essayist by his arguments in 1765 against the Stamp Act ; and his reply to " Massachusettensis " had wide circulation in America and was several times republished in Europe. But a sterner reply was at the door. Lexington, Concord, and Bunker Hill converted many an able pamphlet into waste paper, and (in the ^Free Thoughts on the Proceedings of the Continental Congress, p. 36, ed. 1775. E 50 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. words of Adams himself) " changed the instruments of warfare from the pen to the sword." * Yet the most famous of all the political essayists of the period had not yet entered the lists. Thomas Paine, coming to America in 1774 a needy adventurer, soon gained some acquaintance with the Revolutionary leaders, and rapidly absorbed the spirit of the hour. Early in 1776 appeared his pamphlet Common Sense, which ran over the land like wildfire, 120,000 copies being sold within three months. It was a bold plea for inde- pendence, and the effect was tremendous. It came in the nick of time. The bloody events of the preceding year had prepared the way; and this clever appeal, presenting in homely fashion, with remarkable lucidity and raciness of phrase, the great advantages which would result from America's taking her station among the independent nations of the earth, was just what was wanted to determine wavering minds. Paine also wrote a series of inspiriting pamphlets called The Crisis, which came out at intervals during the war. The political essays of the period under review found a worthy close in The Federalist, a series of papers which appeared in 1 787-1 788, during the great struggle over the adoption of the Constitution. 2 The authors were John Jay, James Madison, and Alexander Hamilton, the last-named writing the largest part. 3 The immediate 1 Works, Vol. II., p. 405. 2 The series was published, in whole or in part, by several New York papers ; and was reprinted as a book in 1788. 3 There has been much dispute as to the authorship of the various numbers. It is agreed that Jay wrote Nos. 2-5, 64; Madison Nos. io, 14, 37-48 ;" and Hamilton the rest, with the exception of Nos. 18-20, 49- 58, 62, 63. These last are in dispute, some scholars maintaining that Hamilton cooperated with Madison in Nos. 18-20 and wrote Nos. 49-58, HISTORIES AND NARRATIVES. 51 purpose was to remove objections to the proposed consti- tution ; but the discussion took a broad range, and the fundamental principles of popular government were pre- sented with such clearness, precision, and suppleness of style, and such keenness and sagacity of thought, that The Federalist has long been a political classic. No hard-and-fast line divides the political writings of the period from those of a more purely literary character. Between the two extremes stand several classes of works partaking of the nature of both, while even the poetry and other forms of pure literature often have for sub- jects the political events of the times. Governor Thomas Hutchinson, " the ablest historical writer produced in America prior to the nineteenth century," 1 in the third volume of The History of the Province of Massachusetts Bay 'brings the record down to 1774 ; and even while treating of the turbulent times in which his house was sacked by a mob, 2 and he himself finally driven from the governorship, he maintains, for the most part, the calmness, accuracy, and fairness which mark the genuine historian. Histories of the Revo- lution were written by William Gordon, David Ram- say, and Mrs. Mercy Warren; all are respectable, and as contemporary records have considerable histori- 62, 63, and others that Madison was the sole author of all the numbers in dispute. See P. L. Ford's edition of The Federalist, and The Ameri- can Historical Review, April and July, 1897. 1 Tyler's The Literary History of the American Revolution, Vol. II., P. 394- 2 The manuscript of his second volume was thrown into the street; most of the scattered leaves were, however, recovered, stained with mud and torn by the trampling feet of men and horses. Some of the sheets are now preserved, says Professor Tyler, in the Massachusetts State Library. , 52 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. cal value, but their literary merit is not great. More interesting are the Narratives of Captivity by Ethan Allen, Thomas Andros, * Henry Laurens, and others. Colonel Allen, famous for taking Ticonderoga " in the name of Jehovah and the Continental Congress/' was equally robust as a writer, describing with much crude vigor his experiences as a prisoner in the hands of the British from 1775 to 1778. Andros's picture of life-in-. death on the " Old Jersey," a British prison-ship and veri- table pest-hole, in which he says that not less than eleven thousand Americans perished, is sickeningly graphic ; and the story of his final escape is thrilling. Laurens, while on his way to Holland as United States commis- sioner, was captured by a British man-of-war, in 1780, and imprisoned in the Tower of London for more than a year ; his account of his life there, amid hardships and temptations, shows the dignified courage and incorrupti- ble patriotism of a lofty spirit. The published Letters of the Revolutionary period are generally well written. Washington always writes with a certain formality, indeed, characteristic of the times and the man, but also with a calm strength and noble largeness. Jefferson's letters are more lively and flexible. John Adams and his wife Abigail had a gift for letter-writing, their letters to one another, in particular, being full of the little details and personal touches which give to this form of literature its peculiar charm. From letters to Journals and Auto- biographies is an easy step. Jefferson's Autobiography has less of personal interest than might be desired, deal- ing largely with his public career; but it is written in his usual easy, elastic style, and contains many interesting passages. The Journal of John Woolman, a Quaker, is LITERARY ESSAYS. 53 pervaded by a spiritual purity, delicacy, and calm that made Charles Lamb exclaim, " Get the writings of John Woolman by heart, and love the early Quakers/' 1 while Whittier beautifully says of it that one is " sensible, as he reads, of a sweetness as of violets. " 2 In the sheltered retreats of the magazine the Literary Essay put forth its feeble foliage in peace even while War was devastating the world without. Thus The Penn- sylvania Magazine for September, 1775, contained, along with a picture of the battle of Bunker Hill, an essay en- titled, Reflections upon the Married State ; and two months later, when Washington was cooping up the British in Boston and husbanding his powder, an essay on Frugal- ity, The Spectator papers were the models for the Amer- ican Steeles and Addisons, who, while catching the moral propriety and literary restraint of the originals, too often missed their grace, humor, and delicate satire. These essays, however, like their prototypes, frequently took the form of character-sketches, dreams, fables, or tales, and were then sometimes written with a good deal of vivacity, fancy, and wit. 3 In a time of such political ferment, it was not to be expected that the essay or fable would altogether avoid political subjects. In The Providence Gazette for November 10, 1764, when the menace of the Stamp Act was already troubling the country, there ap- peared a * Dream of the Branding of Asses and Horses? 1 A Quaker's Meeting, in Essays of Elia. 2 Introduction to Woolman's Journal, p. 34. 3 See the Old Bachelor papers (some of which are by Francis Hop- kinson) in The Pennsylvania Magazine for 1775 ; and * Number Five of The Retailer papers in The Columbian Magazine for 1788. 4 The article has no title in the original, being merely a letter to the publisher. 54 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. which in a humorous way hit the political nail squarely on the head, showing that " none but asses would stand still to be branded," and that American horses in parties ular, being " all of the English breed," would surely kick up their heels with great vigor. Ten years later, just about the time of the assembling of the first Continental Congress in Philadelphia, there was published in that city A Pretty Story, by Francis Hopkinson, a very enter- taining allegory of the Old Farm and the New Farm, of a Nobleman and his Children, of the Nobleman's Steward (the king's ministers) and the Nobleman's Wife (Parlia- ment), and how the wicked Steward got a tax laid upon Water Gruel (tea), and in many other ways vexed the Nobleman's Children upon the New Farm. 1 Some time .between the adjournment of Congress and the outbreak of war, there came out *A Cure for the Spleen, an essay in the form of a dramatic conversation, setting forth the Tory view of the situation with so much liveliness, humor, and keenness that it may still be read with a good deal of pleasure. Far removed (until near their close) from all this political hurly-burly are the * Letters from an Amer- ican Farmer (1782), by J. Hector St. John Creve- cgeur, a Frenchman by birth, which are really pictorial essays upon life in America. They describe with deli- cate sentiment and poetic idealism the happy life of the u American Farmer " ; sketch vividly the inhabitants of Nantucket, their simple customs and dangerous occupa- tions ; draw a powerful picture of the harsher side of slavery as seen in South Carolina ; give some most inter- esting facts about birds and snakes in the New World ; 1 It has been thought that Hopkinson took for his model Arbuthnot's History of John Dull. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 55 and conclude with the distress brought upon the peace- loving Pennsylvania " Farmer " by the American Revolu- tion. Refinement and literary grace pervade the book, which has real charm, although its exaggerated sensi- bility, and distress at suffering even in a great cause, give it a certain effeminacy like that of the contemporary literature of sentiment in Germany, France, and England. Benjamin Franklin began to write long before the Revolution, but an account of his work has been deferred until now that it might be presented as a whole. His wonderful career, from a poor printer's boy to a world-famous man of science and an ambassador at the courts of kings, is too familiar to need emphasis here. 1 Franklin's versatility was marvellous. He was an epitome of his century; its shrewd common-sense, its scientific spirit, its literary talent within a certain range, its limited spirituality, its moral coarseness, are all in high degree exemplified in him. His services as a statesman would alone have made him famous, and so would his contri- butions to science. His literary fame, although great, is secondary, resting chiefly upon a few writings which are 1 Franklin was born in Boston in 1706 ; removed to Philadelphia in 1723, where he soon began to prosper as printer and publisher and rapidly rose to great influence in the colony, founding the American Philo- sophical Society and the University of Pennsylvania; in 1752, by his famous kite experiment, demonstrated that lightning is electricity ; 1753- 1774, was deputy postmaster-general for British America; 1757-1762, 1764-1775, acted as agent for Pennsylvania (and a part of the .time for Georgia, New Jersey, and Massachusetts also) at the British court; was elected to Congress in 1775, and helped to draft the Declara- tion of Independence; 1776-1785, resided in France as ambassador, playing a prominent part in winning French aid and in making a favorable peace treaty with England; 1785-1788, was president of Penn- sylvania ; sat in the Constitutional Convention of 1787 ; died in Phila- delphia in 1790. 56 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. the embodiment of practical wisdom ; of the higher im- agination, as of the higher spirituality, Franklin knew nothing. His writings fill many volumes, but the bulk consists of scientific papers, political papers, and letters. The style of the scientific articles is admirable for its purpose — lucid, precise, and compact. In his political writings Franklin struck many a good blow for his country, effectively combining plain truth and powerful satire with urbanity, humor, and wit. His Examination before the House of Commons in 1766, which he printed as a pam- phlet, did much to secure the repeal of the Stamp Act. His Rules for Reducing a Great Empire to a Small One and An Edict by the King of Prussia, which were pub- lished in England in 1773, made a great hit and were widely read. Franklin was the best letter- writer of his day in America. In comparison with Washington's uni- form epistolary style, Franklin's is striking for its flexi- bility — dignified in weighty matters, in familiar letters playful as a kitten, frequently witty and fanciful, pleasing always by clearness, naturalness, and ease. He also tried his hand at the literary essay and sketch. In early years he published, in Philadelphia periodicals, the Busy-Body papers and other Addisonian essays, which are compara- tively commonplace. Many years after, while living in France, he threw off, for the amusement of some of his new friends, several " bagatelles," such as The Ephemera and^ The Whistle, delightful for their French lightness of touch and their good-natured but sage philosophy of life. Franklin's literary fame rests chiefly, however, upon his Poor Richard f s Almanac (1 733-1 758) and his * Autobiography} He was not the first to make almanacs the vehicle of enter- 1 The first five chapters were written in 177 1 ; the rest, in 1784- 1789. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN. 57 tainment and moral instruction ; but he so far outdid his rivals that they are nearly forgotten, while he still lives in the sayings of Poor Richard. He did not invent all his proverbs; but whether adapting or creating he had an unsurpassed gift for putting bits of practical wisdom in a pithy and striking way, being in this respect a prose-cousin to his great contemporary, Pope. 1 The Autobiography is one of the most interesting books ever written, holding the attention by the triple cord of its limpid, racy style, magnificent common-sense, and self-revelation of a great man. Franklin was the first great American to dwell in Europe, and he did an immense deal to remove the Old World illusion that the " provincials " were necessarily an inferior race. For in the plain old philosopher, whom it was quite impossible to muddle, outwit, browbeat, patro- nize, or ignore, the European recognized an equal, and yet was conscious of an indefinable something that was new : the stock was pure English, but the sap, sucked up from a strange soil, was pure Yankee ; yet the tree was not two trees but one, and it bore goodly fruit. The Poetry of the Revolutionary period was abundant and varied. The stirring political and martial events of the times naturally called forth many * Popular Songs and Ballads, most of which were crude in form and ex- travagant in tone, full of partisan abuse and brag. But the very number and heat of these productions, which were largely anonymous, show how deeply the country was stirred ; and the Muse of History may therefore shelter bantlings which the Lyric Muse must disown. 1 For Franklin's indebtedness to Poor Robin, an English comic alma- nac, and to Ray's A Collection of English Proverbs, see McMaster's life •f Franklin (American Men of Letters series), pp. ioi, 112. 58 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. But verses on other themes were plenty enough. The Pennsylvania Magazine, for instance, in the very year of Lexington and Bunker Hill, abounded in poems about "Delia" and " Strephon," odes on Solitude, wails of " Hopeless Love," sprightly fables, and solemn " Thoughts on the Universe." Let a few of the minor poets stand for their whole choir. Phillis Wheatley, 1 a negro slave brought from Africa to Boston in 1761 at the age of seven or eight, under the care of an indulgent mistress developed re- markable aptitude for letters, and in a few years wrote very respectable verse in the conventional manner of the day. In 1773 a volume of her poems was published in London ; the following lines, upon the effect of Homer's poetry, are a favorable specimen : — Great Sire of verse, before my mortal eyes, The lightnings blaze across the vaulted skies, And, as the thunder shakes the heav'nly plains, A deep-felt horror thrills through all my veins. 2 Peter Markoe's Miscellaneous Poems (1787) are com- monplace ; odes to Faith, Hope, Penn, Shakspere, etc., show the influence of Gray and Collins, two fables were perhaps inspired by Gay, while several poems in the pentameter couplet have Pope for godfather. The fol- lowing quatrain, On a Beautiful Lady with a Loud Voice, is probably the best thing in the book : — That Chloe should surprise our hearts, And quickly lose them — where's the wonder ? Jove's lightning from her eyes she darts, And from her tongue she rolls his thunder. 8 1 She finally married a Mr. Peters, and is sometimes referred to as Phillis Wheatley Peters. 2 Poems t p. 10, ed. 1773. 8 Miscellaneous Poems, p. 22, ed. 1787. POETRY. 59 The poetry of Joseph B. Ladd (1786) shows some prom- ise, being occasionally rather pretty and light, and making several attempts to use distinctively American material. His poems, like many others of the period, by their en- thusiasm for " Ossian " also show that the tendency in English poetry toward Romanticism was beginning to affect American poetry too. In the works of David Humphreys, military aide to Washington, and afterward minister to Spain, the influence of Pope and Goldsmith is, however, still predominant. But Humphreys wrote the pentameter couplet with some grace and a good deal of strength, and his poetry has a certain originality. The subjects of all his principal poems are American ; x he praises the vastness of nature in the New World ; sketches Indian life, though briefly and as a dark background ; draws pretty pictures of American crops growing, and of winter pleasures ; and describes with much spirit the American whale fishery. The most notable poets of the period, however, were John Trumbull, Timothy Dwight, Joel Barlow, and Philip Freneau. The first three, residents of Connecticut and graduates of Yale College, remind us that literary pre- eminence had passed, for a time, from Boston and Phila- delphia to New Haven and Hartford ; 2 and with Freneau 1 Such as The Armies of the United States (1780) , The Happiness of America (1786), The Industry of the United States (1794), etc. 2 Hartford was for a while the residence of Trumbull, Barlow, Hum- phreys, Lemuel Hopkins, and other so-called " Hartford Wits." The four named wrote The Anarchiad, a keen and amusing satire upon Shays's Rebellion, depreciated paper money in Rhode Island, and other dangerous symptoms of the times in the chaotic period between the end of the Revolution and the adoption of the Constitution. The poem appeared first in The New Haven Gazette, in 1786-1787, was reprinted in other newspapers, and contributed its part to the growing conviction that a stronger central government was necessary. 60 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. they mark the growth of a more purely literary cult than had before appeared in America. John Trumbull (1750-1831), lawyer and judge, was almost incredibly precocious, learning to read at two and a half years, composing verses at four, and at seven pass- ing the examination for admission to Yale College, which he entered at thirteen. His first considerable poem, *The Progress of Dulness (1772 and 1773), in vivacious octosyllabic couplets, satirizes college education, fops, and coquettes by sketching with much vigor and wit the careers of Tom Brainless, Dick Hairbrain, and Miss Har- riet Simper. 1 But the war was soon to draw the young poet's talents into its vortex. In 1774 the Boston Port- Bill called forth from him An Elegy on the Times ; and in the next year he flung himself headlong into the welter with the first half of his most powerful poem, *M 1 Fingal 7 a mock-epic satire on the Tories. In this first part, Squire M'Fingal, a Tory, stoutly har- angues a town-meeting, which grows more and more turbulent. In the second half (appearing in 1782) M'Fingal is tarred and feathered and paraded about the town in a cart ; that night, safe in his cellar, he wofully describes to his assembled Tory friends a vision in which there has been revealed to him the complete triumph of the Revolution. M'Fingal was immensely popular in its day, and has been many times reprinted since. It has perhaps been overpraised. A good deal of the interest in a contemporary political satire is necessarily 1 Trumbull's odes, elegies, and fables of the same period, in which the influence of Gray, Collins, Goldsmith, and Gay is manifest, are comparatively commonplace and feeble. His series of essays, The Meddler and The Correspondent, published in Boston and New Haven newspapers in 1769-1770, are sprightly. TRUMBULL AND DWIGHT. 61 transient; furthermore, the poem contains many me- diocre passages, and the whole is prolix. Yet it has many passages of keen wit, broad humor, or crushing satire, and there is an enjoyable rush and vigor through- out. It has also a refreshing smack of originality, in spite of its manifest indebtedness, in verse, style, and general method, to Butler's Hudihras and the satires of Churchill. Timothy Dwight (1752-1817), president of Yale College from 1795 till his death, published in 1785 *Tke Conquest of Canaan, an epic in eleven books. The Bible narrative of Joshua's wars is greatly amplified by imaginary details, and a love story of Irad and Selima is added. Several digressions comparing sundry charac- ters in the poem to heroes of the American Revolution, and the considerable space given to America in Book Tenth (where an angel reveals the future to Joshua), are examples of the way in which contemporary events and the growing sense of national greatness touched all sorts of literature during the Revolutionary period. The Con- quest of Canaan is an honest, respectable piece of work, but of genius or even of high talent it has not a glimmer. The worst defect of the poem, next to its hopeless medi- ocrity, is the incongruity between the early, rude times depicted and the conventional eighteenth-century man- ner throughout ; the Gibeonites sing a hymn to the sun in the style of the Essay on Man, and the damsel who instructs them in the true faith is made to talk thus : — " Far other God," replied the fair, " demands My vocal transports, and my suppliant hands." l One of the best features of Dwight's would-be epic, its occasional pretty pictures of quiet scenes in nature, is 1 The Conquest of Canaan, II., 121, 122, ed. 1785. 62 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. found also in his other principal poem, Greenfield HM (1794), which is frankly in imitation of the manner of Spenser, Thomson, Goldsmith, and other English poets. It contains some distinctively American touches in its description of a New England village and in its pride in the United States as the happiest land ; nearly half a century before Emerson, in The American Scholar f struck more successfully the same note, Timothy D wight had written, Ah then, thou favour'd land, thyself revere ! Look not to Europe, for examples just Of order, manners, customs, doctrines, laws, Of happiness, or virtue. 1 Joel Barlow (1754-1812) was a politician as well as poet, and served as minister to France in 1811-1812. His interest in public affairs appears also in his poems. The Prospect of Peace (1778) glows with enthusiasm for America as the future leader of the world. A Poem spoken at Commencement at Yale College, in 1781, deals largely with American affairs ; and a prefatory note says that passages in it are " taken from a larger work which the author has by him unfinished." The work referred to, The Vision of Columbus (1787), was therefore a poem of slow growth, and it was still further expanded into the bulky * Columbiad 'of 1807. Barlow's epic was thus a great and serious labor, into which he put his life-thought ; but unfortunately it is a serious labor for the reader too. The first book is a rhymed geography, describing in detail the whole continent ; the subsequent books contain the con- quest of Mexico and Peru, the settlement of North 1 Greenfield Hill, I. 233-236, ed. 1794. BARLOW AND FRENEAU. 63 America, the French and Indian War, the Revolution, a retrospective view of the progress of the world from Creation, and a vision of the future, in which Tennyson's " Parliament of Man " is anticipated. The style is heavy, stiff with Latin derivatives, 1 and often bombastic. The pentameter couplets are mechanically correct, but have little real melody. In brief, The Columbiad is a stage- coach epic, lumbering and slow. It is valuable chiefly as a courageous attempt at greater things in American literature ; and it failed, not because its author had no talent (for he had a great deal), but because epics de- mand genius. Much more successful is his lively little poem *The Hasty- Pudding (1793), which describes very prettily the growing Indian corn and the husking-bees, and tells with mock-solemn precision just how the pudding should be eaten. Philip Freneau (1752-1832), of Huguenot stock, a graduate of the college of New Jersey, a sea-captain and editor, like Trumbull was soon diverted from pure litera- ture into political satire. His satires have less imagina- tion than Trumbull's, and more abuse and bitterness. In The British Prison- Ship, containing vigorous though repulsive description, occur the lines, Some miscreant Tory, puff'd with upstart pride, Led on by hell to take the royal side. 2 And elsewhere Cornwallis is called "reptile," "swine," " Satan's first-born son " ; his army, a " host of Beelze- bubs " ; England, " the vengeful dragon's den." In 1 In the description of Washington crossing the Delaware (VI. 156- 169) occur the phrases, " muriat flakes," '' nitrous form," " petrific sky." and " waves conglaciate." 2 Poems, p. 197, ed. 1786. 64 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. more genial moods Frenean sometimes mingled humor with satire, as in The Political Balance, where Jove, using two moons as spectacles, sees Great Britain as " a blot on the Ball." 1 The non-political satires, as The Village Mercha?it, The Sabbath- Day Chase, and A Journey fro ??i Philadelphia to New York, abound in humor and are often very lively. In the satiric and didactic poems the influence of Pope and Churchill is apparent. But much of Freneau's poetry is of other kinds, and shows other influences. His commonplace poems of moralizing senti- ment about nature and human life are modelled on Gray's Elegy. The Hermit of Saba and Pictures of Columbus, dramatic in form, have lines in which one hears echoes of the Elizabethan dramatists, as in these words of the dying Columbus : — The winds blow high : one other world remains; Once more without a guide I find the way; . . . To shadowy forms, and ghosts, and sleepy things, Columbus, now with dauntless heart repair. 2 Milton's early poems affected his graceful and musical The Power of Fancy ; and the playful-sad philosophy of life in the poems of Herrick and the Cavalier poets reappears in The Parting Glass, On a Honey Bee, and *The Wild Hoiiey suckle. *The House of Night, a work of really powerful though somewhat crude imagination, is all compact of the same gruesome Romanticism which had been recently coming into English poetry and prose fiction. But Freneau was no slavish imitator. On the contrary, in poems of fancy and imagination he was the most original and truly poetical poet in America before 1 Poems, p. 261, ed. 1786. 2 Miscellaneous Works, pp. 29, 30, ed. 1788. FRENEAU. 65 the nineteenth century. His gift for phrasing is illus- trated by the fact that two excellent English poets have borrowed from him. 1 In Campbell's O'Connors Child (18 10), the line, The hunter and the deer a shade ! 2 is taken without change from Freneau's most successful poem on Indian subjects, The Indian Burying Ground : By midnight moons, o'er moistening dews, In vestments for the chace array'd, The hunter still the deer pursues, The hunter and the deer — a shade. 3 And a line in Marmion (1808), 4 And snatched the spear, but left the shield ! 5 changes but slightly a line in the American poet's verses to the memory of the soldiers who fell at Eutaw Springs : They saw their injur'd country's woe; The flaming town, the wasted field; Then rush'd to meet the insulting foe; They took the spear — but left the shield. 6 The Wild Honeysuckle is the high-water mark of Ameri- can poetry of the eighteenth century, in delicacy of feel- ing and felicity of expression being at least the equal of Bryant's To the Fringed Gentian. When such lines were possible in the very infancy of the national life, there was no reason to despair for the future of American literature. 1 Professor Tyler was the first, so far as I know, to point out this fact* 2 Poetical Works, p. 59, Aldine ed., 1891. 3 Miscellaneous Works, p. 189, ed. 1788. 4 Introduction to Canto III. 6 Scott's Poetical Works, p. 77, Globe ed., 1890c 6 Poems, p. 229, ed. 1786. F 66 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. Of the Tory satirists Jonathan Odell (i 737-181 8), an Episcopalian clergyman of old Massachusetts stock, was by far the best. His satires, upon the model of Dryden, Pope, and Churchill, are polished, keen, and powerful. They reveal intense party bias and venom, but are mani- festly sincere in their opposition to a war which the writer regarded as needless, treasonable, cruel, and hope- less. His pen-portraits of the Revolutionary leaders, though unjust, are strong. Of Congress he says, — .... since Creation's dawn, Earth never yet produc'd so vile a spawn; x of John Jay, — .... to him these characters belong; Sure sense of right, with fix'd pursuit of wrong; An outside keen, where malice makes abode, Voice of a lark and venom of a toad; 2 of General Mifflin, — Fierce Mifflin foremost in the ranks was found : Ask you the cause? He owed ten thousand pound; * and of Washington, — Was it ambition, vanity, or spite, That prompted thee with Congress to unite? Or did all three within thy bosom roll, " Thou heart of hero with a traitor's soul?" Go, wretched author of thy country's grief, Patron of villainy, of villains chief. 4 One more literary species, the Drama, bega'n to de- velop in America during the Revolutionary period. 5 Pon- 1 The Word of Congress, in The Loyalist Poetry of the Revolution, p. 50, ed. 1857. 2 The American Times, Part I., p. 4, ed. 1780. 3 The Word of Congress, in The Loyalist Poetry of the Revolution p. 44, ed. 1857. 4 The Americ an Times, Part I., p. 12, ed. 1780. 6 English plays had been acted in New York in 1732. In 1749-1752 THE DRAMA. 67 teach : or the Savages of America (1766), supposedly by Robert Rogers, an American officer in the French and Indian War, portrays with much realism the deceit and cruelty of the whites in their dealings with the red men ; but the Indians themselves are not at all true to life, Pontiac talking and acting like a European statesman, and his son Philip being a sort of Edmund-Iago. The Disappointment ; or the Fo?xe of Credulity (1767), by Andrew Barton, is a rollicking comedy about buried treasure, and contains real though sometimes coarse humor. Mercy Warren's The Adulateur (1773) deals, under a thin disguise, with the Boston Massacre. Her comedy The Group (1775) makes scornful fun of the leading New England Loyalists. She also wrote two commonplace historical plays, The Sack of Rome and The Ladies of Castile ; they have some strength of style, but are often bombastic, and the blank verse is wooden. The Fall of British Tyranny (1776), of uncertain author- ship, recounts in prose the events of the struggle thus far, and satirizes the Tories and British with considerable the plays of Shakspere, Dryden, Otway, and others were performed in Philadelphia, New York, and Annapolis, by a company consisting in part of professionals. Hallam's London company played in Williams- burg, Va., in 1752-1753 ; in New York, in 1753-1754 ; in Philadelphia, in 1754. Reorganized, it acted in New York in 1758, 1761-1766; in Philadelphia, 1759; in Annapolis, 1760; in Newport, 1761 ; in Provi- dence, 1762. A permanent theatre was built in Philadelphia in 1766 ; in New York, 1767 ; in Annapolis, 1771 ; in Charleston, S. C, 1773. During the occupation of Boston, New York, and Philadelphia by Brit- ish troops, plays were given by the officers. Congress, by recommenda- tions to the states in 1774 and 1778, did all it could to close the theatre elsewhere ; in 1774 the American company left Philadelphia for Jamaica ; but in 1781 the first playhouse in Baltimore was erected. After the Revolution professional players cautiously resumed operations — in Philadelphia, in 1784; in New York and Savannah, in 1785; in Mary- land and Virginia, in 1786. 68 THE REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. rude vigor. Of much more literary merit are *The Battle of Bunker's -Hill (1776) and The Death of General Montgomery (1777), by Hugh H. Brackenridge ; both are reading dramas only, consisting of long speeches in rather stiff blank verse, but they show considerable lit- erary culture and are inspired by an ardent and noble patriotism. The Blockheads (1776), making coarse fun of the fright of the British officers in Boston after the battle of Bunker Hill; The Battle of Brooklyn (1776), by some Tory or British hand, portraying the American soldiers and generals as cowards and grossly immoral ; The Motley Assembly (1779), a few loosely connected scenes of small force, directed against Tories and Whig turncoats; and The Blockheads (1782), an opera, ex- pressing the Loyalist dislike of the French alliance as dangerous to liberty, and pining for friendship once more with " dear Albion " — all deserve mention merely as mirrors of the strife and passion of the times. In The Patriot Chief (1784), said to be by Peter Markoe, we return to the realm of pure literature. The scene is Lydia ; the main characters are Otanes, Araspes, Ismene, and the Lydian king ; the plot is the conventional one of political ambition, love, and mistaken identity ; and the style is in general high-flying and stagey. The Drama in England itself was now in a bad way, and had been for long ; it was not to be expected that plays of high merit could yet be written in the New World. The first rich harvests of American literature were to be reaped in other fields ; and after two centuries of preparation the reaping- time was now not far distant. THE PERIOD OF THE REPUBLIC FOREWORDS. The great task of Colonial and Revolutionary America was to settle the Atlantic seaboard, establish provincial governments, and achieve independence and national union. The great task of the Republic has been to extend the national domain to Mexico and the Pacific Ocean, carve out new states from this territory and bring them into the Union, throttle secession, rid the nation of the incubus of slavery, furnish an asylum for the poor and oppressed of the Old World, and play a leading part in the development of modern industrial civilization. We have already seen how slight and crude American literature was during the first two centuries. Even the literature of the Republic is still a minor product in comparison with the nation's achievements in other fields. The United States is even yet too young, too crass, too much absorbed in the struggle with physical nature, it has not even yet enough of the mellowing that comes with time, of the enriching and beautifying of the national life that wait upon venerable historic associations, ancient legend, and the noble leisure of an old civilization, to produce the greatest art. American literature at its best is still much below English and Italian and Greek literatures at their best. As a whole it is inferior even to English literature of the nineteenth century. No false patriotism or personal affection for a favorite author should blind us to these facts. Tennyson, Carlyle, Thackeray, Shelley, Wordsworth, 7i 72 THE PERIOD OF THE REPUBLIC. Scott, — what six American poets and prose-writers shall we place on an equality with these men ? And how puny are our greatest compared with the giants of the ages — Goethe, Milton, Shakspere, Dante, Virgil, Sophocles, Homer. But we may, nevertheless, justly be proud of the literature of the Republic. The day of Wigglesworth and Barlow has forever gone. The day of Irving, Poe, Longfellow, Hawthorne, Lowell, and Emerson has come ; and in them and their fellows we have given beautiful gifts unto men. Even within the period of the Republic, however, the years of literary bloom have been all too few. Since the War of the Revolution four generations have come upon the scene. In the first generation, ending approxi- mately with the War of 1812, American literature shared in the general weakness and crudeness of the young nation's life, although it shared likewise in the promise of coming strength. In the second and third generations, ending approximately with the Civil War, lived and wrote most of the authors who first lifted our literature out of the dust, and gave it an honorable though subordi- nate place among the literatures of the world. In the fourth generation, ending with the century, American literature has been characterized by fresh beginnings and a new spirit rather than by great achievement. Our literature, like our country, seems to be standing upon the threshold of a new era. Just what that era will be, no man can say; but there is reason for the faith that it will not be unworthy of the maturing life of a great people. III. THE PERIOD OF THE REPUBLIC. (1789-I9OO.) I. THE LITERATURE OF THE TIME OF NATIONAL BEGINNINGS (1789-1815). HISTORICAL EVENTS. Washington's administrations, 1789-1797. Outbreak of the French Revolu- tion, 1789. First tariff, 1789. Funding the national debt, 1790. Indian wars, 1790-1794, 1811. Invention of the cotton-gin, 1793. Whiskey Insurrection suppressed, 1794. Jay's treaty with Great Britain, 1794. Adams's administration, 1797- 1801. Preparations for war with France, 1798. Kentucky nullification resolutions, 1799. Death of Washington, 1799. Washington City becomes the capi- tal, 1800. Jefferson's administrations, 1801- 1809. War with Tripoli, 1801-1805. Louisiana Purchase, 1803. Lewis and Clarke's expedition to Pacific, 1804-1806. Fulton's steamboat on the Hudson, 1807. The Embargo, 1807-1809. Importation of slaves forbidden, 1808. Madison's administrations, 1809- 1817. First steamboat on the Ohio and the Mississippi, 1811. War with England, 1812-1815. Hartford Convention, 18 14. LITERATURE IN ENGLAND. Burns's poems, 1786-1802. Ann Radcliffe's romances, 1789- 1797. Burke's Reflections on the French Revolution, 1790. Blake's later poems, 1791-1794. Roger's Pleasures of 'Memory \ 1792. Godwin's Political Justice, 1793; Caleb Williams, 1794. Poems by Southey, 1794-1814. Lewis's romances and tales, 1795- 1808. Wordsworth and Coleridge's Lyri- cal Ballads, 1798. Landor's Ge&ir, 1798. Campbell's Pleasures of Hope, 1799; Gertrude of Wyoming 1809. 73 74 THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 18 15. Poems by Moore, 1800-1812. Narrative poems by Scott, 1805- 1813. Crabbe's Parish Register, 1807; Borough, 1 8 10. Poems by Wordsworth, 1807 ; Ex- cursion, 1814. Jane Austen's novels, 1811-1818. Byron's Childe Harold, I. and II., 18 12; Eastern tales in verse, 1813-1814. During the first quarter-century of its existence the young Republic was beset with peculiar dangers, but the character of the men at the head of affairs ensured a suc- cessful issue. Washington, Adams > Jefferson, and Madi- son as Presidents, Hamilton as Secretary of the Treasury, Marshall as Chief Justice, and others in various positions of power were master workmen in statecraft. They manifested a large wisdom in interpreting and adminis- tering the fundamental law of the land amid perplexing new problems; asserted the authority of the national government in the face of tendencies to insurrection and secession in South and North alike; avoided useless entanglements abroad during the fever of the French Revolution and the Napoleonic wars ; when it became necessary to strike a foreign foe, struck hard ; established the tottering national credit upon a bed of rock ; by tariffs secured ample revenues, and incidentally encouraged the development of the country's magnificent resources for mining and manufactures ; set up territorial governments in the West ; and brought five new states into the Union. All this was a task for giants, but there were giants for the task. By the end of the War of 181 2 the new ship of state had "found herself" and was ready for a longer voyage over stormier seas. In population, settlement of old territory, and acquisi- tion of new the advance was also great. The census of \8io showed a population of more than seven millions GENERAL CONDITIONS. 75 or nearly double that of 1790; the frontier line was pushed steadily back toward the Mississippi; and the Louisiana purchase threw open the immense tract be- tween the Mississippi and the Rocky Mountains. This rapid growth in numbers and territory involved a like growth in wealth and industry. The North raised and exported large quantities of cereals. At the South, rice and sugar-cane were proving valuable products ; and since the invention of the cotton-gin, cotton " was king already, . . . the crop exported in 18 10 being worth over fifteen million dollars." l Cotton and woollen manufactures steadily increased, although they were still in their infancy. Manufactures of wood and leather prospered. Mining and metal industries were yet in a backward state, but in common with all manufactures they were feeling the stimulus of the tariff, the embargo, and the war with England. The ocean commerce of neutral America flourished mightily during the long-continued European wars. The coasting trade was also growing, and the great rivers and lakes bore steadily increasing freights even before the introduction of the steamboat. But traffic by land was still difficult and costly; "to haul a ton from Philadelphia to Pittsburg . . . cost a hundred and twenty-five dollars ; " 2 the construction of turnpikes and canals therefore received much attention, until the coming of the locomotive revolutionized over- land traffic. Social, intellectual, and moral conditions differed widely in different sections. New England was still the home 1 Schouler's History of the United States, Vol. II., p. 215. 2 McMaster's A History of the People of the United States, Vol. Ill, p. 463. 76 THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 1815. of independent religion and sober morals, of solid intellect, universal education, and careful industry, although the Puritan grimness had moderated and dwindled into a rather prim propriety. The Middle States were still the seat of a mixed population, New York in particular, a city of many tongues, having already something of a cosmopolitan character; Albany was a staid half-Dutch town ; Philadelphia retained its reputation for quiet in- telligence ; Baltimore and Washington were gay society centres; while throughout the rural districts might be found the honest and industrious if rather dull Swedish, German, and Dutch farmers. In the South the growth of slavery was confirming the aristocratic division of society into masters, slaves, and "poor whites." The South was also still deficient in schools and cities, although Charleston remained a centre of intelligence and gayety, and Savannah, Raleigh, and Richmond were rising into some prominence. But the old hospitality of the Southern gentleman had only refined with time ; honor between man and man, and chivalry toward woman, ennobled Southern society ; and plantation life, with its habits of self-reliance and command, continued to be a training-school for leaders in national affairs. Our new possessions in the Southwest, including the old city of New Orleans, had brought into the Union the new ele- ments of French gayety and grace, of grave Spanish courtesy and romance, elements destined to furnish rich subject-matter for our literature in future years. On the Father of Waters and his giant tributaries was fast develop- ing a peculiar and picturesque type of life, which, however, would have to wait two generations or more for adequate expression in letters; while along the Western frontier A TRANSITION PERIOD. 77 and in the far West, the squatter, the hunter, the ex- plorer, and the Indian were making material for the literature which they could not write. From this brief survey it will be seen that the condi- tions in the United States as a whole were still unfavorable for literature and the fine arts. The energies of the people were largely absorbed with the problems of physical or political existence ; and the great majority of the population lived in the country, away from the stimulus and culture of cities. 1 Nevertheless, in portions of New England and the Middle States the conditions were better than they had ever been before. Cities of considerable size now existed. In 18 10 the population of Boston was 33,250 ; of Philadelphia, 57,488 ; of New York, 96,373; and in these and other centres a good measure of wealth and leisure, of social gayety and re- finement, of culture, knowledge, and literary intelligence, was common. Old colleges were growing, new colleges were springing up, newspapers and magazines abounded more and more. 2 Yet even in the cities great libraries, art collections, circles of artists and men of letters, and the general atmosphere helpful to the literary and artistic life were largely or altogether lacking. American schools of painting, sculpture, and music did not exist, 3 and 1 In 1810 only five per cent of the population lived in cities of 8000 or more inhabitants. Furthermore, the exodus of Tories after the Revolution had robbed city and country alike of many of the most cultured citizens. 2 In 1810 there were 359 newspapers, including 27 dailies. Among the magazines were The Port Folio, Philadelphia, 1801-1827; The Monthly Register, Charleston, S. C, 1805 ; and The Analectic Magazine, Philadelphia, 1813-1820. 8 Benjamin West (1738-1820), John S. Copley (1737-1815), Gilbert Stuart (1755-1828), Charles R. Leslie (1794-1859), and other American yS THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 1815. American literature as a whole was still sadly deficient in originality, beauty, and power. And yet the literature of this time of beginnings has significance and promise, and cannot be passed by carelessly if one would understand the historical development of American literature. It was closely linked with the immediate past ; in some ways it prophesied and prepared for the better future ; and parts of it had considerable intrinsic merit. Between the literature of the Revolutionary period and that of the second generation under the Republic how great the difference. The literature of the intervening generation affords a partial explanation of the change, not so much by its achievement as by its tendencies and attempts. In Revolutionary days America was already a land of Orators, and under the Republic the brood naturally multiplied apace. Contemporary English oratory was the model for American, solidity of thought and stateli- ness of manner rather than brilliance or vivacity being conspicuous features, although the tendencies of the more nervous American temperament had already begun to manifest themselves. In these days flourished the Fourth of July oration, too often compact of patriotic bombast and cheap self-glorification. In Congress were many effective speakers and a few real orators, among whom Fisher Ames of Massachusetts and John Ran- dolph of Virginia were prominent. Ames, a man of fine mind and high character, hating exaggeration and rant, had an oratorical style that was nervous, tastefully ornate, and intense with restrained passion. Randolph, a de- painters studied and lived chiefly or wholly abroad, and their style of painting was essentially English. Of American sculptors and musicians there were none worthy of mention. ORATORS AND ESSAYISTS. 79 scendant of Pocahontas, excelled in sarcasm ; his oratory had little grace, but it bit like an acid and was often brilliant though erratic. Among the Biographies, John Marshall's Life of Washington (1804-1807) and Wil- liam Wirt's Life and Character of Patrick Henry (181 7) hold places of honor. Essays, political, scientific, philo- sophical, religious, moral, and literary, appeared from time to time, but were for the most part of no great merit. Thomas Paine's Rights of Man (1791-1792), in reply to Burke's Reflections on the French Revolution, is a lucid and spirited, if somewhat shallow, exposition of the new political philosophy. His Age of Reason (1 794-1 795), much read and more feared in its day, although it antici- pated some of the conclusions of modern Biblical schol- arship, is often carping and flippant, and its racy style has not sufficed to keep it alive. The essays of Noah Webster, 1 Count Rumford, and Benjamin Rush can be only mentioned in passing. Joseph Dennie's Lay Preacher (1795) and other sprightly essays in the Ad- disonian manner were for a while widely read and greatly admired. Wirt's Letters of the British Spy (1803) in neat and graceful style draws pictures of men and manners in Virginia, including the once famous sketch of the Blind Preacher, in which the self-conscious " sensibility " of Sterne, Mackenzie, and the rest of the sentimental school, lingers still. In the above classes of prose works was nothing par- ticularly promising or new. But in Poetry the Romanti- cism of Wordsworth, Scott, and Byron quickly made itself felt, so that later, when the greater American poets 1 Webster's Speller (dating from 1783^ .which supplanted The New England Primer, is almost literature by reason of its admirable fables. 80 THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 1815. took up the lyre, it was already vibrating with the richet melodies of the new poesie. In addition, in a few in- stances distinctively American material was handled with greater success than ever before, and emancipation from provincial dependence in literature thereby advanced a step, though a short one. But the intrinsic worth of most of the poetry is small, perhaps even less than in the preceding period. Of Religious, Moral, and other Didactic Verse, chiefly upon the model of Akenside, Rogers, and Campbell, there was no lack. Most of it is as dull as it is pious, virtuous, and learned ; it points toward happiness, but affords the reader little on the way, although the verse and style have usually some finish. As representative may be mentioned The Power of Soli- tude (1804), by Joseph Story, and The Pains of Memory (1808), by an anonymous author. Of much higher merit are the didactic poems of Robert Treat Paine (1773-1811), a man of versatile and brilliant parts but dissipated character. His lyrics, orations, and dramatic criticisms all show ability. But his best work is The Ruling Passion, a poem delivered before the Phi Beta Kappa at Harvard in 1797, frankly on the model of Pope, but so witty, vigorous, and pointed that it does honor to its original. Fops he calls . . . sweet elves, whose rival graces vie, To wield the snuff-box, or enact a sigh. The miser Still clings to life, of every joy bereft; His god is gold, and his religion theft ! The pedant, Wrinkled in Latin, and in Greek fourscore, With toil incessant, thumbs the ancient page, Now blots a hero, now turns down a sage. POETRY. 8l Poems of Fancy, Sentiment, Humor, Wit, and Satire may be loosely grouped together as a second class. The poems of fancy and sentiment are often pretty, although many are stale ; some of the humorous and witty verses are still enjoyable ; and the satires occasionally hit hard with keen weapons. Miscellaneous Poems (1804), by Susanna H. Rowson, are slight but show facility, espe- cially in the songs. The Breechiad (1807), by " Ther- esa," in lively pentameter couplets, tells women how to rule their husbands. The anonymous author of Boston (1803), a satire of considerable force and knack at phrasing, makes fun of the literary affectations of that ever literary city : — Long odes to monkies, squirrel elligies, Lines and acrostics on dead butterflies; . . . Elegiac lays such taste and truth combine, The lap-dog lives and barks in every line. Some of the lyrics in William Cliffton's Poems (1800) have a good deal of fancy, flow, and feeling for poetic words; The Group, a satire, is forcible and finished. The Country Lovers in Original Poems (1804), by Thomas G. Fessenden, anticipates LowelPs The Courtirt and is a good sample of the broadly humorous verse : — " Miss Sal, I 's going to say, as how, We '11 spark it here to night, I kind of love you, Sal — I vow, And mother said I might. . . . My father has a nice bull calf, Which shall be your's, my sweet one, *T will weigh two hundred and a half," — Says Sal, " Well, that 's a neat one. G 82 THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 1815. Your father 's full of fun, d' ye see, And faith, I likes his sporting, To send his fav'rite calf to me, His nice bull-calf a courting." Fessenden's Terrible Tractoration (1803), a Hudibrastic satire concerning medical squabbles, had a great run in America and England, but is now unreadable in spite of its rough vigor. By far the best poem of fancy is The Sylphs of the Seasons (181 3), by Washington Allston, the artist, 1 containing such delicate work as this : — Now, in the passing beetle's hum The Elfin army's goblin drum To pygmy battle sound; And now, where dripping dew-drops plash On waving grass, their bucklers clash, And now their quivering lances flash, Wide-dealing death around. . . . Or seen at dawn of eastern light The frosty toil of Fays by night On pane of casement clear, Where bright the mimic glaciers shine, And Alps, with many a mountain pine, And armed knights from Palestine In winding march appear. In the third class — Romantic Tales and Ballads — the spirit of the new English poetry blows full upon us. Stories of adventure and love in distant ages and climes, 1 Allston (1779-1843) was a native of South Carolina, a graduate of Harvard, and had studied art abroad, where he was resident in 1813 ; but R. H. Dana says ( The North American Review, 18 17) that The Sylphs was written in this country, he having seen it in manuscript. After 1818 Allston lived in Boston and Cambridge; his lectures on art were published in 1850. ROMANTIC TALES AND BALLADS. 83 ballads in which distressed maidens, hermits with a mysterious past, interesting and pathetic lunatics, and sundry phases of the supernatural are utilized for poetic purposes, show that in America as in England the dynasty of Pope, Young, and Goldsmith was fast giving place to that of Wordsworth, Coleridge, Scott, and Byron. In conception and execution these poems, like all imita- tions, have no lasting value. But it meant a good deal for the future of American poetry that it should be liberated thus early from the limitations of eighteenth- century verse, Oudbi, an Indian Tale (1790), by Sarah Morton, has occasionally some good lines, such as these describing a wounded Indian : — A ghastly figure issued from the wood, Writhing with anguish, like the wounded fawn, Cover'd with darts, and stain'd with clotted blood. In John B. Linn's Valerian (1805), narrating the adven- tures of a Roman noble shipwrecked on the shores of the Caspian Sea, lines like the following show the new freedom of style and fresh feeling for nature : — Some mossy trees bent over his rude cot, And swinging to the winds their giant arms, Made music like the dashing of the sea. The account of a boar-hunt is spirited, and a part of the description of the boar is capital : — . . . he champed the foam Which dropped down roping from his crooked tusks. Hubert and Ellen (181 2), by Lucius M. Sargent, a story of love, sorrow, and madness, in its too-conscious simplicity reminds one of Wordsworth's poorer style, and the whole poem is a sort of diluted Ruth. In Joseph 84 THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 1815. Hutton's Leisure Hours (181 2), the romantic tendency appears strongly in ballads on Crazy Jane, the Saracen, and the Maid of Savoy, and in a paraphrase of a scene from Lewis's The Castle Spectre. The Broken Harp (18 15), by Henry C. Knight, contains a ballad, Poor Margaret Duty, much like Wordsworth's Ruth in subject and manner : — Poor thing ! she knows not what she will; She '11 feel the cold, and not complain; She '11 beat her bosom blue and chill, And love the pleasure of the pain. Some of the Poems on Nature and Common Life — the fourth class — show a trend toward the realism of Wordsworth and Crabbe. In Alexander Wilson's The Foresters (1809), the humble home of a Pennsylvania Dutch farmer is pictured with courageous truth- «* detail : — There washed our boots, and, entering took our seat, Stript to the trowsers in the glowing heat. The mindful matron spread her table near, Smoking with meat, and filled with plenteous cheer. . • • The wheel, the cards, by fire-light buzzing go; The careful mother kneads her massy dough ; Even little Mary at her needle sits, And while she nurses pussy, nicely knits. In its neat perspective this sketch of a landscape as seen from a mountain-top resembles passages from Cowper : — Below, at dreadful depth, the river lay, Shrunk to a brook 'midst little fields of hay; From right to left, where'er the prospect led, The reddening forest like a carpet spread; Beyond, immense, to the horizon's close, Huge amphitheatres of mountains rose. POEMS ON NATURE. 85 The following description of Niagara, however crude, has the merit of keeping its eye on the object : — Saw its white torrents undulating pour From heaven to earth with deafening, crashing roar; Dashed in the wild and torn abyss below, 'Midst dazzling foam and whirling storms of snow, While the whole monstrous mass, and country round, Shook as with horror at the o'erwhelming sound ! Within this concave, vast, dark, frowning, deep, Eternal rains and howling whirlwinds sweep. Other of the nature poems combine the new accuracy of observation with poetic beauty and often with fancy. The eye of the painter is manifest in this stanza from Allston's The Sylphs of the Seasons, already men- tioned : — Or lur'd thee to some beetling steep To mark the deep and quiet sleep That wrapt the tarn below; And mountain blue and forest green Inverted on its plane serene, Dim gleaming through the filmy sheen That glaz'd the painted show. Henry C. Knight, whose The Broken Harp has been referred to above, in The Caterpillar (contained in Poems, 182 1), addresses the "cousin reptile" as . . . a frozen fellow thou, This sultry day, whole bedded in a muff. And A Summer's Day in the same volume has several pretty lines : — Soft murmur pebbly rills at stilly dawn; The nestling breezes plume their dew-bent wings. . • . Gray mists now drizzle from the smoky rocks. . . • 86 THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 1815. Tottering on tripods, milkmaids soothe the kine, While rains a white shower in the foaming pail. . . . Mourning the sun, blue-bells have shut their cup; The bat wheels round and round on leathern wing; Reynard creeps out, on pilfer'd eggs to sup; And chiming frogs their shrilly concert sing. It may be said, and truly, that these last lines are echoes of Warton and Collins and other pioneers in Romanticism rather than of Wordsworth. And, in general, American poets in the years now under con- sideration curiously combine the old, the newer, and the newest within a few pages. In neighboring poems if not in the same poem, Pope jostles Gray, and Gray jostles Wordsworth, the poet meanwhile seeming quite unconscious that divers children struggle within him for mastery. So it had been in English literature not long before. Much of the verse of the time falls into the fifth and last class — Political and Patriotic Poems. It was a period of intense and bitter party-strife between Federal- ists and Democrats. Satire in verse was of course pressed into service, and many and stout were the blows dealt on either side. There is more abuse than wit in the mouths of most of these pugnacious children of the Muse Militant, and we need not tarry with them long. The Democi'atiad (1795) and The Guillotina (1796), anony- mous Federalist satires on the Democrats for their opposition to Jay's treaty, are keen, bitter, and intensely partisan. A few lines from the first will give a sufficient taste of the better class of political satire of the day : — Far to the south, where on her oozy bed, Like some sick sea-nymph Charleston bows her head, PATRIOTIC SONGS AND ODES. 87 Her languid sons collect in solemn state, To join their sages in the grand debate. There like the vision in the sacred book, Old Gadsden's dry bones in a whirlwind shook, But o'er the rest chief justice Rutledge stands, Stamps with his feet, and boxes with his hands, And 'mid the applauses of the gather'd crowd, Shews what a judge can do by bawling loud. Among other of the more celebrated satires of the day were The Political Green-House, by Richard Alsop, Lemuel Hopkins, and Timothy Dwight, a review of the year 1798, rapping the Democrats, with much liveliness and some wit, for their sympathy with the French Revo- lution ; The Porcupiniad (1799), by Mathew Carey, a coarse but powerful attack upon William Cobbett, an Englishman, the editor of Porcupine's Gazette and an extreme Federalist, who, like many Federalists, was sus- pected of wishing to set up monarchy in the United States ; and Olio (1801), a collection of satires on the Federalists, particularly Cobbett and Alexander Hamilton, the latter being raked severely for his confessed personal immorality. Poems on the Embargo, including one by the boy Bryant, were numerous. Another division of poems of the fifth class consists of patriotic songs, odes, elegies, etc. Washington's death was doubly a calamity by reason of the flood of dull poems which it occasioned. Fourth of July was the in- spiration of many noisy odes, only less dreadful than the. modern cannon-cracker as a means of celebrating the day. There was, furthermore, a permanent fund of swelling patriotic pride, which on sundry occasions ex- ploded in more or less metrical dithyrambs, crammed 88 THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 181 5. with much silly stuff, such as these lines from Jonathan M. Sewall's Miscellaneous Poems (1801) : — Sage Adams for wisdom, with Pallas may vie, And Washington equals a Jove ! To this time, however, belong two songs which, although their poetic merit is small, still hold a place in the nation's memory. Hail Columbia, by Joseph Hopkinson, was first sung at the Chestnut Street theatre in Philadelphia, in 1798, when war with France was threatening. The Star- Spangled Banner, by Francis Scott Key, was written after the bombardment of Fort McHenry in 18 14. The War of 181 2 called forth several narrative poems, in which the patriotism is usually more abundant than the poetry. The Field of Orleans (18 16), however, by Joseph Hutton, has some spirit and local color : — Though rifles rattle, peal on peal, And skies resound with crash of steel, Fair Orleans, thou art safe ; for, lo ! Jackson prepared to meet the foe. His darting eye-beams brightly sweep Around his trench of cotton heap. . . . " Haste, Morgan, haste ! that stream be cross r d, And thence the iron death be tossed I Remember how in times retired, What rage that other chief inspired, When stern upon the field he stood, Like the roused lion lapped in blood; And let each boasting Tarleton see, Great Morgan's soul renewed in thee ! " A more remarkable poem is The Battle of Niagan (1818), by John Neal (1 793-1876), who was to have long and creditable though - rather erratic career as : NARRATIVE POEMS. 89 dramatist, novelist, and writer for the magazines. The Battle of Niagara is evidently the work of a young man. It contains many crude lines ; as a whole is obscure, tumultuous, and incoherent ; and the influence of Byron, Moore, and Hunt is too apparent in diction, verse, and general manner. But in spite of crudeness and lack of high originality, the thing is nevertheless a genuine poem, full of energy, vision, and sensuous beauty. Amidst the tame commonplaces of the time it rises up like a brilliant though imperfect flower. How much of the large, savage beauty of the virgin American solitudes is in these lines : — Peace to thy bosom, dark Ontario ! Forever thus, may thy free waters flow, In their rude loveliness ! Thy lonely shore Forever echo to the sullen roar Of thine own deep ! Thy cliffs forever ring With calling wild men, in their journeying — The savage chant — the panther's smothered cry — That from her airy height, goes thrilling by ! Is there not something of Shelley's delicacy and of Keats's fresh and luxurious sense for beauty in this description of a summer night? It is that hour of quiet ecstacy, When every ruffling wind, that passes by The sleeping leaf, makes busiest minstrelsy : . . . When dry leaves rustle, and the whistling song Of keen-tuned grass, comes piercingly along : When windy pipes are heard — and many a lute, Is touched amid the skies, and then is mute : . . . When all the garlands of the precipice, Shedding their blossoms, in their moonlight bliss. Are floating loosely on the eddying air, And breathing out their fragrant spirits there : po THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 1815. And all their braided tresses in their height, Are talking faintly to the evening light. For rush and vividness the following account of a night attack by a troop of American horse equals almost any- thing in Scott or Byron : — 'T is a helmeted band ! from the hills they descend Like the moiiarchs of storm, when the forest trees bend. No scimitars swing as they gallop along : No clattering hoof falls sudden and strong : No trumpet is filled, and no bugle is blown : No banners abroad on the wind are thrown : . . . But they speed like coursers whose hoofs are shod, With a silent shoe from the loosen'd sod. . . . Away they have gone ! — and their path is all red, Hedged in by two lines of the dying and dead ; By bosoms that burst unrevenged in the strife — By swords that yet shake in the passing of life — For so swift had that pageant of darkness sped — So like a trooping of cloud-mounted dead — That the flashing reply, of the foe that was cleft, But fell on the shadows those troopers had left. Interest in the Drama rapidly developed with the growth of cities. Many plays were written or adapted by American playwrights, and acted in New York, Phila- delphia, Baltimore, Charleston, and Boston — for even in Puritan Massachusetts the law against theatres was repealed in 1793. 1 The first American play performed in public by a company of professional actors was The Contrast, by Royall Tyler (175 7-1826), which was acted in New York in April, 1787. It is a prose comedy, showing the superiority of the honest man to 1 Plays had been given in Boston shortly before, but they were advertised as u Moral Lectures." PROSE FICTION. 91 the brilliant rake ; it introduces successfully the Yankee as a stage-character; and the dialogue is often bright and lively. Tyler's May Day was acted in 1787; and A Good Spec, or Land in the Moon, in 1797. A more prolific playwright was William Dunlap (1766- 1839). His The Father of an Only Child, acted in New York in 1789, was followed by many other plays, some on American subjects and others based on or translated from English, French, and German romances and plays. 1 His Leicester, acted in 1794, was (he says) the first American tragedy produced upon the stage. Dunlap had genuine humor, and in both comedy and tragedy was a clever playwright ; but his comedies lack literary finish, and even the tragedies have little poetical elevation. Other writers for the stage need not be dis- turbed in their well-earned repose. Dramas intended for the closet only, including several on subjects from American history or life, were numerous ; most of them, however, are scarcely better adapted for reading than for acting, and even to enumerate their titles and authors would be an unprofitable weariness to the flesh. The most interesting and in some respects the most significant part of the literature of the time was the Prose Fiction. A tendency toward this species of composition had begun to show itself in the Revolutionary period. The transition from true narrative to fictitious, from the descriptive and narrative essay to the moral or allegor- ical tale, is an easy one, although in America the step was delayed by the Puritanic distrust of novels, which were supposed by many to be one of the pleasant devices 1 Kotzebue was a favorite storehouse for American playwrights at this time. 9 2 THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 1815. of Satan. It has already been seen that early in Revolu- tionary days the fable or tale was used as a political engine. The same line was continued after the war in The Foresters, by Jeremy Belknap, which narrates the colonizing of America and the revolt of the colonies, under the guise of a story about John Bull, his forest, and the foresters who cleared and settled it ; the whole is carried through with much spirit and ingenuity, and the style is light. 1 Our novel-hating ancestors did not object to thrilling narrative, if only it were true; and ths harrowing experiences of Mary Rowlandson, John Wil- liams, and others were well known in the homes of colonial New England. The same readers would have seen little difference, as to truth, in The History of Maria Kittle, by Ann E. Bleecker, 2 which is in the form of a letter and purports to be true, although much of it is evidently fictitious. It narrates with no little vividness the calamities of the heroine at the hands of savages during the French and Indian War. Although the subject is thus entirely American, the style shows in many places the influence of the contemporary European school of sentiment : — " Dear Mrs. Willis, shall we not be interested likewise in your misfortunes? " "Ah! do, (added Mademoiselle V.) my heart is now sweetly tuned to melancholy. I love to indulge these divine sensibilities." . . . Mrs. Willis bowed. She dropt a few tears; but assuming a composed lock, she began : — "I am the daughter of a poor clergyman." 1 The Foresters was running in The Colwnbian Magazine in 1788. In 1792 it appeared in book form. The second edition, 1796, brings the narrative down to Jay's Treaty. Some of the names are ingenious and amusing : John Codline = Massachusetts ; Walter Pipeweed = Vir- ginia (with a reference at first to Raleigh). 2 It is contained in her Posthumous Works, 1793; she died in 1783. PROSE FICTION. 93 The Puritan reader might still have felt safe over the pages of Mrs. Bleecker's The Story of Henry and Anne (which tells of the love and misfortunes of German peas- ants who finally find a paradise in America), for the reader is assured that it is "founded on fact." John B. Linn's History of Elvira and Augustus and Aurelia (in his Miscellaneous Works, 1795) are short tales of love and " sensibility K with some moral instruction thrown in. More virile and amusing is Hugh H. Brackenridge's Modern Chivalry : containing the Adventures of a Cap- tain, and Teague O' Regan, his Servant (1 792-1806), a vigorous satire on American life, upon the model (says the author) of Cervantes, Rabelais, Le Sage, and "espe- cially Swift." The first volume has more narrative than the other three, and is still entertaining ; the satire and humor are broad (Teague is about to be elected to the state legislature and to membership in a philosophical society, and is at last made a judge), but vigorous and genuine. The portrait of Teague as an emotional, super- stitious, quick-witted, impudent Irishman is very lifelike, although the Irish brogue is poorly imitated. On the same border-line of pure fiction stand Royall Tyler's Smollett-like The Algerine Captive (1799) and The Yankee in London (1809), and Irving's A History of New York; the last will be spoken of more at length on a later page. But novels pure and simple were also written in America before the end of the century, although there was a tendency at first to announce them as "founded upon fact." Susanna H. Rowson wrote her first novel, Victoria (1786), and Charlotte Temple (1790), her most famous work, in England; but Trials of the 94 THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 1815. Human Heart (1795), Reuben and Rachel (1798), Sarah (1802), and others were composed in America. Charlotte Temple, a Tale of Truth}* a story of innocence, love, betrayal, desertion, and death, although often marred by sentimentality and "fine writing," is vivid and truly pathetic. The Coquette ; or, the History of Eliza Whar- ton, a Novel Founded on Fact (1797), by Hannah W. Foster, the wife of a Massachusetts clergyman, was also very popular for a generation or more ; its moral is similar to that of Charlotte Temple, the style is old- fashioned and formal, and the whole is closely modelled upon Richardson, but it has, nevertheless, considerable animation and genuine pathos. Female Quixotism (1808), a satirical novel by Tabitha G. Tenney, wife of a New Hampshire physician, was popular for some years. Charles Brockden Brown, a spirit of another sort and a mightier, the first American who adopted letters as his sole profession, was born in Philadelphia, January 17, 1 771, of Quaker parentage. He studied law, but could not bring himself to the practice of it, and for several years lived a desultory life, much of the time in New York, where, among the members of "The Friendly Club," he found congenial society. Wieland, his first published romance, came out in 1798, and was followed by five others within the next six years. 2 His life was 1 It is said that the heroine was Charlotte Stanley, daughter of an English clergyman ; her betrayer, Colonel John Montressor of the British army ; and that she now lies buried in the graveyard of Trinity Church, New York. 2 Ormond, 1799 ; Arthur Mervyn, Part I., 1799, Part II., 1800 ; Edgar Huntly, 1799 ; Clara Howard, 1801 ; Jane Talbot, 1804. An unfinished romance had preceded Wieland ; long extracts from it are published in Dunlap's life of Brown. A second novel, Sky Walk, was in press in 1798, when the death of the publisher stopped further progress ; por- CHARLES BROCKDEN BROWN. 95 henceforth a busy one. He edited two magazines and an annual register, 1 published three political pamphlets, 2 and labored upon a great geographical and an historical work, 3 besides writing many other pieces in verse and prose. 4 In 1804 he married, and had a happy home-life. But his health had always been delicate, consumption seized him, and he died on February 22, 18 10. Brown had a speculative, analytic mind ; his tempera- ment was gloomy, if not morbid ; he wrote at a time when the school of mystery and terror was dominant in English fiction ; and he early fell under the influence of William Godwin, the author of Political Justice, a book of radical and powerful abstract reasoning, and of Caleb Williams, a novel of exciting incident and keen analysis of abnormal mental states. These qualities and influences, together with his American environment and his own genius, determined the nature of his novels. They are all studies in morbid psychology, with frequently a back- ground of bold speculation upon moral and religious problems ; the best of them contain thrilling events, sometimes seemingly supernatural but (in harmony with Brown's rationalistic temper) finally explained by natural causes ; they are given an American setting ; and they all tions of the novel, says Dunlap, were utilized in Edgar Huntly. Brown's first publication was Alcuin, a Dialogue on the Rights of Women, 1797. 1 The Monthly Magazine and American Review, New York, 1799- 1800. The Literary Magazine and American Register, Philadelphia, 1803-1808. The American Register, Philadelphia, 1806-1810. 2 Pamphlets in favor of the Louisiana purchase (1803), in favor of a treaty with England which President Jefferson had just rejected (1807 ?), and against the Embargo (1809). 3 General Geography and Rome during the Age of the Antonines. 4 A History of Carsol, apparently a Utopian sketch. Memoirs of Carwm. Memoirs of Stephen Calvert. Thessalonica, a Ro?nan Story t These writings, with others, are printed in Dunlap's life of Brown. 96 THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 1815. leave the impression of mingled crudeness and power* They are, however, of very unequal merit. A brief out- line of the main plot will give some idea of the merits and defects of each. In Clara Howard, the title-char- acter and Philip Stanley, lovers, struggle with their sense ot duty to Mary Wilmot, to whom Philip was formerly betrothed although he did not love her ; she has mysteri- ously disappeared, and, urged on by Clara, he sets out t< find her ; the lovers suffer many vacillations of mind ; th Gordian knot is finally cut by the marriage of the super fluous Mary to another. In Jane Talbot, Jane, a widow, loves Henry Colden; but her foster-mother, the ricl Mrs. Fielder, objects to the marriage because of Col den's heresy and former immorality ; Jane now gives he: lover up and now calls him back ; he finally goes awa; to avoid beggaring her ; is shipwrecked ; returns, con veniently cured of his scepticism, finds Mrs. Fielder conveniently dead, and marries Jane. Ormond has more action, and the title-character is a more interesting study, although he is too obviously modelled upon Falkland in Caleb Williams. Constantia Dudley, reduced to dire poverty, is aided by Ormond, a man of vast wealth, power- ful mind, and immoral principles (although at first he seems a miracle of benevolence), who has mysterious means of learning the secrets of others and executing his purposes ; he seeks Constantia in love but not in marriage ; finding her invincible, assaults her in a lonely house, and is slain by her hand. In the First Part of Arthur Mervyn 7 the hero is secretary to Welbeck, a weaker Ormond ; Wel- beck kills Watson (whose sister he has wronged) in a duel in Welbeck's house, and Mervyn helps him bury the body in the cellar ; Welbeck then flees, and Mervyn finds CHARLES BROCKDEN BROWN. 97 work on a farm near Philadelphia ; the yellow fever breaks out in the city ; Mervyn, venturing in to rescue a friend, catches the disease, and goes to Welbeck's deserted house to escape the horrible hospital; there he finds Welbeck, who quarrels with him over a large sum of stolen money, and, baffled and furious, leaves him to die. The Second Part is largely filled with the love- affairs of Mervyn, who, forsaking a young girl devotedly attached to him, marries a Jewish widow, six years his senior ; the whole is bizarre. Edgar Huntly is a study of sleep-walking and madness ; the scene is western Pennsylvania. Huntly's friend Waldegrave has been murdered, and Huntly accuses Clithero, a newly come farm-hand ; Clithero denies the charge, and explains his strange actions by his remorse for having tried to kill his friend, Mrs. Lorimer, in temporary madness, a deed which had compelled him to flee to America ; he then re- treats to a neighboring mountainous tract, whither Huntly takes him food. One of the irrelevant episodes which often mar Brown's plots is here introduced : a young man suddenly appears, and by a long tale makes out a good claim to the small fortune which Waldegrave, to the surprise of all, had been found to have to his credit in the bank ; the young man goes away for the present, and nothing comes of the incident. 1 The most exciting part of the story now begins. Huntly, who (unknown to himself) is a sleep-walker, wakes up one night to find himself lying at the bottom of a pit in a cave, covered with bruises and half-famished ; climbing out of the pit, he sees the eyes of a cougar glaring through the pitchy darkness ; he hurls his tomahawk, splits the cougar's 1 The same situation is used again in Clara Howard. H 98 THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 1815. skull, and devours its flesh and blood ; crawling toward the mouth of the cave, he discovers there five Indians (four of whom are sleeping around a fire) and a captive white girl ; he brains the sentinel, and escapes with the captive to a log hut; here, finding firearms, he fights and slays the three savages who pursued. On his way home he meets with Sarsefield, his former teacher, who informs him that Mrs. Lorimer is not dead; Huntly tells Clithero, thinking to cure his remorse ; but the latter, who is a confirmed madman, again attempts her life, is captured, and on the way to confinement leaps overboard and is drowned. Wieland is a study of in- herited religious mania induced by ventriloquism. Wie- land's father, a religious eccentric, had died mysteriously of what seems to be electricity or spontaneous combustion ; with the advent of the mysterious and powerful Carwin, voices are heard in the air giving commands and warnings, which Wieland takes to be supernatural and broods over ; finally he hears a heavenly voice commanding him to sacrifice to God his wife and children ; this he does, and, raving mad but exalted by a sense of moral sublimity, is fettered in a maniac's cell ; from this he escapes, and is about to kill his sister also, when Carwin undeceives him by again exercising his ventriloquial power, and the poor deluded man dies of spiritual collapse. Even from these imperfect outlines it can be seen that Brown's plots are, at their best, unique and powerful. But the total effect is injured by irrelevant episodes and blind alleys, by stories within stories to confusion and lessening of interest, by the improbabilities and clumsy devices upon which the action often turns, and by dawdling conclusions after a striking climax. Some of these defects CHARLES BROCKDEN BROWN. 99 were due to haste, it being Brown's custom to begin to print before he had finished writing or had even thought his story through. His device of telling the story by letters, or by a long narrative written by one of the characters to a friend, although it is easily accounted for by the example of some of his predecessors in English fiction, is nevertheless a clumsy method in tales of ex- citing incident. His characters are boldly and clearly conceived in their main outlines but are not always ade- quately motived ; Carwin, for instance, has no sufficient motive for his reckless deeds, and there is no apparent cause for the sudden madness of Clithero. Furthermore, Brown's study of mind and motive is not subtle or curious cr natural enough to arouse much interest apart from ex- citing action : this is the cause of the inferiority of Jane Talbot and Clara Howard — the mental situation is unin- teresting and the action is feeble ; but even in his study of more remarkable minds, as Ormond's or Carwin's, the interest is chiefly in the horrible resultant events. Brown's habit, borrowed from Caleb Williams, of making the nar- rator explain his mental movements minutely becomes tiresome, particularly as the thoughts and counter- thoughts detailed are often of the most obvious sort. The style, also, is a combination of crudeness and power. It is often stiff and sometimes ludicrously stilted ; x but everywhere it has strength ; and in passages of exciting description and narration it rises to a very high degree of power. In these scenes of horror — the maniac Wie- 1 In Edgar Huntly occur these expressions within a few pages : *' The channel [of the river] . . . was encumbered with asperities ; " "the vociferation of a savage;" "this action [the levelling of a gun at his head] was sufficiently conformable to my prognostics." Brown's plentiful logic and scant sense of humor sometimes led him, in his ioo THE LITERATURE FROM 1789 to 1815. land about to kill his sister ; Huntly groping about in the black pit ; the midnight burial of Watson in the cellar ; Ormond's deliberate and gloating assault upon his trem- bling victim in the lonely house ; the loathsome scenes in the pestilence-stricken city — Brown is in his element, and by them he has made a permanent contribution to the literature of terror. Inferior to Hawthorne in subtle spiritual suggestiveness, to Poe in brilliancy, intensity, and enveloping atmosphere of poetic gloom, he is perhaps superior to them and to the whole contemporary English school of terror in Defoe-like sense of reality and in sheer mass of overwhelming horror. 1 How far his work is distinctively American is a question of minor consequence. In his characters is nothing essentially American ; and although the main action is always in this country, the setting is usually very faint. The pictures of yellow- fever scenes in Arthur Mervyn and Ormond form indeed a powerful background and are drawn from personal knowledge ; 2 but yellow fever, analysis of mental movements, to announce the most obvious facts with pompous solemnity ; thus the beautiful Constantia Dudley, thinking if she can't make a little money by sewing, is made to affirm as a logical preliminary, " Clothing is one of the necessaries of human existence." But in the later novels the style is somewhat simpler and more fluent; and Thessalonica, a Roman Tale, apparently a late work, shows marked improvement in structure also, having excellent unity, proportions, and climax, and suggests that if Brown had lived he might have become a brilliant writer of historical fiction of the spectacular sort. 1 Brown's fiction found some readers in England. Several of his novels were republished there, and Jane Talbot was published there first. " Brown's [best] four novels," says Peacock, " Schiller's Robbers, and Goethe's Faust, were, of all the works with which he was familiar, those which took the deepest root in Shelley's mind." — Dowden's life of Shelley, Vol. I., p. 472. - Brown was in New York while the fever raged there in 1798 ; one of his dearest friends, a physician, died of it; and the novelist himself ex- perienced the earlier stages of the disease. CHARLES BROCKDEN BROWN. IOI fortunately, is not a permanent and essential feature of American life. The one instance in which Brown has emphasized material essentially American is in Edgar Huntly, where the descriptions of Indian warfare are at least equal to Cooper's in vividness, and superior to them in ugly realism. But the novel of mystery and terror, unlike the novel of character or manners, does not much depend for its peculiar effects upon the characteristics of the time and place where it is brought forth ; it moves in a semi-supernatural world of its own, gathering its mate- rials wherever it can find them ; and the novels of Brown are quite as much American as The Castle of Otranto, The Mysteries of Udolfiho, and The Monk are English. 2. THE GOLDEN AGE OF AMERICAN LITERATURE (1815-1870). HISTORICAL EVENTS. Monroe's administration, 1817- 1825. Wars with Seminole Indians, 1817, 1835- First steamboat crosses the Atlantic, 1819. Acquisition of Florida, 1819. Missouri Compromise, 1820. Monroe Doctrine announced, 1823. Higher protective tariff, 1824. Erie Canal finished, 1825. j. Q. Adams's administration, 1825- 1829. Temperance reform begun, 1826. Jackson's administrations, 1829- 1837. First steam railroad in America, 1830. Garrison starts The Liberator (Ab- olitionist), 1831. South Carolina nullifies the new tariff, 1832. McCormick's reaper invented, 1834. Formation of Whig party, 1834. Use of hard coal becomes com- mon, 1835. Van Buren's administration, 1837- 1841. Business panic, 1837. Harrison and Tyler's administra- tion, 1841-1845. Ashburton Treaty settles north- eastern boundary, 1842. First electric telegraph in America, 1844. 102 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. Annexation of Texas, 1845. Polk's administration, 1845-1849. Northwestern boundary settled by treaty, 1846. War with Mexico, 1846-1847. Discovery 0/ gold in California, 1848. Mormons settle in Utah, 1848. Taylor and Fillmore's administra- tion, 1849-1853. Fugitive Slave Law, 1850. Pierce's administration, 1853-1857. Acquisition of Arizona and New Mexico, 1848-1853. Kansas-Nebraska Bill, 1854. Formation of Republican party, 1854. Buchanan's administration, 1857- 1861. Business panic, 1857. First Atlantic cable, 1858. Lincoln's administration, 1861. 1865. Civil War, 1861-1865. Lincoln assassinated, 1865. Johnson's administration, 1865- 1869. Pacific Railroad completed, 1869. Reconstruction of Southern States, 1865-1870, LITERATURE IN ENGLAND. Shelley's poems, 1813-1824. Scott's novels, 1814-1831. Byron's later poems, 1816-1824. Coleridge's later prose and poetry, 1816-1840. Moore's later poems, 1817-1828. Keats's poems, 1817-1820. Hazlitt's essays, 1817-1825. Hallam's Middle Ages, 18 18. Crabbe's Tales of the Hall, 1819. Wordsworth's later poems, 1819- 1850. Lamb's essays, 1820-1833. De Quincey's works, 1821-1861. Landor's prose and later poetry, 1824-1853. Carlyle's works, 1824-1881. Macaulay's works, 1825-1860. Mrs. Browning's poems, 1826-1862. Poems by Tennyson, 1827-1869. J. S. Mill's works, 1829-1874. Poems by Robert Browning, 1833- 1868. Newman's works, 1833-1870. Dickens's works, 1834-1870. Thackeray's works, 1837-1867,, Works by Ruskin, 1839-1870. 44 George Eliot's " works, 1846-1883. Grote's History of Greece, 1846- 1856. Arnold's poems, 1848-1858; essays, 1861-1888. Merivale's History of the Romans % 1850-1862. Froude's History of England, 1856- 1869. William Morris's poems, 1858-1887, Darwin's Origin of Species, 1859. Poems by Swinburne, 1861-1870. Spencer's First Principles, 1862. Essays by Huxley, 1 863-1 870. Gardiner's History of England^ 1863-1882. Freeman's History of the Norman Conquest, 1867- 1876b GENERAL CONDITIONS. 103 The half-century from the close of the second war with England to the end of the Civil War and the reconstruc- tion of the seceding states, was the most momentous period in the history of the Union. During these years the Young Republic became the Great Republic, the Giant of the West. It was a time of marvellous national growth, of intellectual and moral quickening, of mighty conflicts in the forum and on the field of battle ; and it was also the Golden Age of American literature. The increase in territory and population was very great, and, in its effects upon American life, very signifi- cant. The seven millions of 1810 had become twenty- three millions in 1850 and thirty-eight millions in 1870. By the admission of Texas, and the war with Mexico, the vast Southwest was added to the national domain, which now embraced three million square miles, an area equal to more than three-fourths of all Europe ; while the steady westward progress of the long wagon-trains of the pioneer increased the settled area from 407,945 square miles in 1 8 10 to 1,194,754 in i860. The poor of the Old World flocked to this New World refuge in rapidly augmenting numbers, more than five millions coming between the years 1820 and i860. This great increase in the total population was accompanied by a like increase in town and city life. In 1800 the dwellers in cities of 8000 or more inhabitants were only four per cent of the whole population, and in 1820 only five per cent ; but in 1850 the percentage had risen to twelve, and in i860 to sixteen. But alongside this unparalleled national growth there loomed up, bigger and blacker with every decade, a terri- ble danger. Slavery in the North, having proved unprofit- able, had gradually died out, and the Northern conscience 104 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. thereupon began to wax tender about the moral wrongs of that system of labor. In the South, on the contrary, where the evils of slavery had once been freely acknowl- edged, a change of sentiment set in. The growing of cotton, rice, and sugar-cane had become the great indus- tries ; ! slave-labor was deemed essential in them ; and so there developed a jealous regard for " the peculiar insti- tution.' ' In particular, the South naturally resented all outside interference with what it regarded as wholly its own affair, this feeling being shared even by Southerners who earnestly desired reform. The question of the exten- sion of slavery into the new states gave rise to a prolonged and bitter struggle ; the abolitionists poured oil on the flames by demanding the abolition of slavery in the states where it already existed; compromise after compromise only delayed " the irrepressible conflict " ; until at last four years of bloody fratricidal war bought emancipation and national unity at a fearful cost, especially to the torn and bleeding South, with whose sufferings, not yet wholly past, the younger generation at the North can sympathize as their fathers in the stress of battle and the flush of victory could not. The war was a baptism of fire unto a higher life for the whole nation ; but the immedi- ate effect was hostile to literature and the fine arts, which have always flourished best in the soil of peace. The fierce political agitation that preceded the war was also unfavorable to the development of literature except ir* the one domain of oratory, which on the platform and in 1 In 1850 the cotton crop was valued at $105,600,000; sugar at #12,396,150; rice at $3,000,000. The slave population, which in 1790 was only 697,681 for the whole country, in 1820 had risen to 1,538,02a. and in 1850 to 3,204,313. RAPID NATIONAL GROWTH. 105 Congress equalled and in some respects surpassed the oratory of the Revolutionary period. The other great fact of the times — the rapid national growth — likewise retarded the progress of art in Amer- ica. The enormous task of settling the great West absorbed energy and talent which might otherwise have gone to the enriching of culture in regions already settled. As it was, the necessarily crude civilization in the new states and territories lowered the level of refinement in the country as a whole and by its effect upon the national ideal reacted unfavorably even upon life in the older states. The case was made worse by wholesale immigra- tion. Europe poured into us her ignorance and poverty, and then sneered at our lack of culture. The hard- handed millions that came to America from many lands earned a welcome by their laborious toil in helping to develop the physical resources of a new continent, but on the whole they were a drag upon the intellectual, moral, and aesthetic life of the nation. Furthermore, the rapid growth of the country, a growth too rapid for per- fect health, favored the development of a cheap and vulgar national pride. All foreign critics of American life at this period note the prevalence of an ill-bred boastfulness which swallowed greedily the grossest flattery and showed undue sensitiveness to European and espe- cially to English censure. The almost universal absorption in the pursuit of wealth was still another hinderance to the finer spirituality. Such materialism was natural enough, it was even necessary, in the stage which the country had then reached. Freedom, equality of rights, opportunities open to him who had the vigor to enter, all stimulated individual enterprise ; in a land without privi- 106 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. leged classes or fixed social castes, wealth was a key not only to comfort but to social and often to political distinc- tion ; and a new and rapidly growing country, in which business was brisk and the powerful agencies of modern civilization could be applied on a large scale, afforded tempting chances for the making of fortunes both small and great. In the East, under the stimulus of higher tariffs, manufactures developed rapidly and were very profitable ; on river and lake and prairie, cities sprang up like mushrooms ; the discovery of gold and other metals in the West begot a frenzy in many brains ; the locomotive tunnelled the mountain or scaled its side, blazed a path through vast woods still the haunt of deer, flashed across endless plains where roamed the Indian and the buffalo, and returned bringing great wealth to the hands that sent it forth. 1 It was no wonder that America was fascinated with the game of Mammon, and on the whole it was well that it should be for a time, "Great, intelligent, sensual, and avaricious America, ,, wrote Emerson in 1841. 2 But it was sensual and ava- ricious largely because it was physically great ; and it was to be spiritually great in coming years partly because it was sensual and avaricious for the present, laying with passionate energy the material foundations of a colossal nation. Yet the immediate effect was to keep the na- tional fibre comparatively coarse and to delay the time when the genius of America should find adequate ex- pression in terms of beauty. 1 In 1840 Chicago was a village of 4479 inhabitants ; in i860 it had a population of 112,172. In 1830 there were 23 miles of railroad in the United States ; in i860 there were 30,600 miles, only 1547 less than in all Europe. * Letter to Carlyle, July 31. LEAVENING FORCES. 107 But the picture has a brighter side. Many tendencies of the time were conducive to a much higher develop- ment of literature and art than had before been possible in the New World. The consciousness of national unity and greatness was immensely furthered by the struggle against secession, by the building of railroads binding East to West, and North to South, and by the enormous increase in population and wealth, although the full liter- ary fruit from the ever-fruitful tree of a just and noble national pride is yet to be gathered. The mass of the people impressed European travellers as being in a high degree religious, moral, and intelligent — qualities favor- able to literary greatness as to greatness of any kind. In the South, education for white children was on the mend ; and the settlers of the West carried with them Bible and Spelling-book. Innumerable newspapers cul- tivated the habit of reading, and disseminated a wide- spread if superficial intelligence. 1 Magazines, some of high intellectual and literary merit, were now numerous. The lyceum and the popular lecture promoted a genuine if rather provincial intellectual quickening. Colleges were multiplying, and the older ones were becoming cen- 1 In 1840 there were 1631 newspapers, with an annual issue of 195,838,671 copies ; in i860 there were 4501, with an annual issue of 927,951,548 copies. 2 Some of the most noteworthy were these: The North American Review, 1815-; The New York Mirror, 1823-1842; The Southern Literary Gazette, 1825 ; The America?i Quarterly Review, Philadelphia, 1827-1837; The Southern Review, 1828-1832; The Western Review, 1828-1830; The New England Magazine, 1831-1835 ; The Knicker- bocker, 1833-1860; The Western Monthly Magazine, 1833-1836; The Southern Literary Messenger, Richmond, 1834-1864 ; Graham's Maga- %ine, Philadelphia, 1840-1850; The Southern Quarterly Review, 1842- 1852; Harper's Monthly, 1850- ; Putnam's Monthly, New York, 1853- 1857, 1867-1869 • The Atlantic Monthly, 1857- 108 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. tres of a riper scholarship and a richer culture. Public libraries and museums of art were founded. Wealth, with its attendant leisure and foreign travel, favored the growth of a love for beauty and the things of the intellect. A distinctively American school of landscape-painting began with Cole, Doughty, and others, who handled successfully the scenery of the Hudson and our brilliant autumnal effects ; l and Trumbull's pictures in the Capi- tol, on subjects from American history, were at least a respectable beginning in a difficult branch of the painter's art. American sculpture of high merit came from the chisels of Greenough, Powers, Story, and others. The appreciation of music, if not the creation of it, grew in the United States with the century. Societies for the rendering of oratorios were early organized in most of the principal cities, and the Boston Academy of Music was established in 1833 ; English opera companies found a welcome in New Orleans in 1820, in New York in 182 1 ; an Italian opera was first given in 1825, in the latter city ; and Jenny Lind, in her tour a generation later, was everywhere received with rapturous enthusiasm. In short, the conditions of American life in New Eng- land, the Middle States, and parts of the South, were now more favorable than ever before for the production of a large body of good literature ; and such a literature was forthcoming. In addition to the general factors already touched upon, there were special reasons why American writers were now better able to clothe their thoughts in that perfection of form upon which so much of the pleas- ure and even of the value of literature depends. For 1 The school arose about the year 1825, and hence was nearly con- temporary with the new nature poetry of Bryant. LEAVENING FORCES. 109 one thing, the increase in the size of the reading public, with the attendant increase in the number and circulation of periodicals and the opportunity for large sales of books, now made it possible for an author to live by his pen, with the natural result that men of talent and genius were able to devote themselves to the art of literature and to attain greater skill in the practice of it. 1 Again, not only was there more culture at home, but the packet and the steamship, by making ocean travel quicker and more com- fortable, brought the culture of the Old World nearer to the New ; so that, in place of slavish imitation of the letter of foreign models, an intelligent absorption and free repro- duction of their spirit was easily possible to the American writer of verse or prose, a more genuine culture and a more genuine independence going hand in hand. With the widening of American scholarship there came, fur- thermore, a broadening of the literary forces which played upon our literature. The thought and literature of Eng- land had been for long the great external influence upon the thought and literature of America ; but in the years now under review there was a healthful broadening of knowledge, and the life and literatures of Germany, Italy, ' Spain, and the north of Europe brought new treasure into the coffers of the American historian, essayist, novelist, and poet. American writers now also had some advantage over their predecessors in the matter of subjects adapted for imaginative treatment. The new feeling for nature — for 1 The profits of authorship were, of course, still meagre for many years; and the lack of an international copyright law, by allowing American publishers to steal the labor of English authors, instead of paying for home talent, tended to keep them meagre. no THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. its beauty and sublimity, its mystery and spiritual signifi- cance — was aroused in the New World even more easily than in the Old, and proved in fact the source of our earliest poetry of high merit. Indian life was to American writers of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries a frequent subject for history and description, but it lay too near their everyday walk and conversation to lend itself readily to poetic treatment or to imaginative handling in prose ; while to Cooper and Longfellow the red man of the forest was sufficiently removed in time to be idealized without difficulty into a pathetic, noble, and romantic figure. American history of the seventeenth century and even of the eighteenth — the personal incidents and the fireside legends, at least, which hang upon the fringe of the greater and too well-known events — had taken on in the nineteenth century something of the poetry of the Past, the more because men of the present age have drawn away so rapidly from the modes of life of their grandsires. The witchcraft in which Cotton Mather believed had a peculiar interest and a high literary value for the unbelieving generation of Hawthorne ; and the manners and customs of Revolutionary days acquired in half a century some of the charm of the obsolete. American authors of the nineteenth century in com- parison with their forerunners were thus rich in literary material, but in comparison with their brother craftsmen of Europe they were poor. They lived in a land settled but recently and by a race which had outlived the age of chivalry and poetic superstition. The Puritans brought with them a few valuable devils, but no fairies, brownies, water-kelpies, or dragons to haunt the woods and streams of the New World. American history has been great in THE NATIONAL LIMITATIONS. in its ideas and in its influence upon the progress of man- kind ; but it has been deficient in the spectacular, the pic- turesque, the romantic, the dramatic — in nearly all the elements which the poet and romancer most successfully build up into forms of art. Nature in America is indeed beautiful and magnificent, but it is largely destitute of the heightened charm exerted over most minds by the union of natural beauty with historic association and poetic legend. No ruined castles, Cased in the unfeeling armor of old time, rise along our rivers, to remind the traveller of bygone centuries when there were Banners on high, and battles passed below. No venerable and massive cathedrals stand in our noisy cities, silent memorials of the mellow beauty and religion in the lives of generations long dead. Even the present in America, with its democratic level and monotony, its lack of those poetic and dramatic contrasts of in- herited conditions which make society in the Old World more interesting to the artist if also less condu- cive to the happiness and development of the common people, is * comparatively poor in material for literature of the type which has hitherto best held the attention of mankind. These handicaps of the American author in choice of subjects, together with the crudeness of life in much of the country and the practical and moral rather than artistic temper of the mass of the people, may serve to warn us once more that in the field we are about to traverse, rich as it is compared with the tracts already passed, we must not look for literature supremely great. Nor, even within this field, will it be wise to confine our ii2 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. attention wholly to the best. In the half-century with which we now have to do, some dozen American authors attained to such relative preeminence that it is easy to forget that their writings constitute only a part of the literature of their times ; and it is one of the functions of a history of literature to remind the reader that moun- tains imply foot-hills and a plain, and to help him to see the literary landscape in its entirety. For this reason the work of representative minor writers will be sketched-in as a setting for the greater, that the latter may thereby be taken out of the literary vacuum in which they might otherwise seem to stand. The Poets, Essayists, and Writers of Prose Fiction may for convenience be loosely grouped into schools according to the section of the country in which they lived. The New York, or " Knickerbocker," School had precedence in time. Its great names are Irving, Cooper, and Bryant j but it includes several other writers of no mean ability, who, like other minor authors of the period, have a claim upon our gratitude for their part in creating that better literary atmosphere without which their more famous brethren could not have "waxed so great." It is not strange that New York City early developed into somewhat of a literary centre. The mix- ture of many nationalities in its population encouraged breadth of ideas and a cosmopolitan spirit, at the same time that it afforded some striking contrasts in character and mode of life, the old Dutch element in particular furnishing materials both amusing and picturesque. The beautiful and impressive scenery of the Hudson was another feature of evident literary value. The great drawback, then as now, was the excess of the commercial THE NEW YORK SCHOOL. 113 spirit over the intellectual and artistic. But the New York even of the years 1820 to 1840 was far from devoid of the finer culture. At the earlier date its population was 123,706, at the later 312,710; and the causes and consequents of the higher civilization in large cities — wealth, leisure, and refinement; churches, schools, col- leges, and libraries ; the theatre, the opera, the newspaper, and the magazine — were present in more and more abundance. Among the minor authors who grew up amid these conditions, James K. Paulding (1778-1860), Irving's lifelong friend, and Secretary of the Navy under Van Buren, has an honorable place. He wrote some verse, including The Lay of the Scotch Fiddle (1813) — a clever parody on Scott's Lay of the Last Minstrel, full of honest contempt for the British navy, — and The Backwoodsman (1818), a tale of frontier life, in rather prosaic style. But his best work was in prose. He assisted Irving in the Salmagundi papers, unaided brought out a second series in 18 19-1820, and wrote several tales and novels besides much miscellaneous matter. His best novel, The Dutchman's Fireside (1831), combines some of the most attractive features of Cooper's and Irving's work, containing exciting incidents of Indian warfare, delicate pen-pictures of Hudson scenery, and amusing sketches of Dutch life and character. A more brilliant man was Joseph Rodman Drake (1 795-1820), a physician, by whose early death American literature suffered a severe loss. The Culp7'it Fay, written in 18 19, handles the time-worn material of fairy-lore with a fresh and delicate touch and a fancy that is in places exquisite. Drake's part in the Croaker poems, published anonymously in 214 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. The Evening Post in 18 19, shows his gift for light satiric and society verse ; and his poem, The A?7ierican Flag, in the same series, beginning, When Freedom, from her mountain height, unites patriotic fervor with poetic beauty. The name of Fitz-Greene Halleck (1 790-1867), a bank clerk, is always associated with Drake's because of the close and beautiful friendship between the two men. Halleck was Drake's associate in the popular Croaker sallies ; and a few of his later poems — Marco Bozzaris (1825), a spirited martial lyric on the Greeks' struggle for freedom from the Turks; Alnwick Castle (1827), beginning with romantic revery and ending in a vein of humorous satire ; Burns (1827), of which Burns's sister said, in 1855, "nothing finer has been written about Robert " ; and Red Jacket (1828), a humorous but sympathetic portrait of the famous Indian chief, who, With look like patient Job's eschewing evil; With motions graceful as a bird's in air; was yet ... in sober truth, the veriest devil That e'er clinched fingers in a captive's hair ! — won deserved fame in their day, and are not yet wholly forgotten. Most of Halleck's other work is on a lower plane, although Fanny (1819), a rather lame attempt to follow in the footsteps of Byron in Beppo and Don Juan, was popular for several years. John Howard Payne ( 1 791-1852), actor, playwright, journalist, and United States consul at Tunis, a friend of Irving, Coleridge, and Lamb, is now remembered chiefly by his song of Ho?ne y Sweet Home (in his drama, Clari, 1823) ; but in his life- MINOR AUTHORS. 115 time he had considerable fame as a clever dramatist, Brutus (1818) being one of his most successful plays. The more pretentious poems of Samuel Woodworth (1785-1842) have gone down into oblivion, but he still sips immortality from The Old Oaken Bucket (1826). George P. Morris (1 802-1 864), who with Woodworth founded The New York Mirror in 1823, pleased the taste of the times by his short and easy poems of com- monplace sentiment — Woodman, Spare That Tree ; My Mother's Bible; The Main Truck; etc. Charles F. Hoffman (1806-1884), whose literary life was cut short by insanity in 1849, founded The Knickerbocker maga- zine in 1833, edited several other periodicals, and was a versatile and voluminous author, writing sketches of Western life, two novels ( Vanderlyn and Greyslaer) , and many poems ; of the poems those on love, nature, and Indian life have some originality, although the influ- ence of Byron and Moore upon them is often apparent. A more considerable figure in the literary world of his day, though he has since sadly dwindled, was Nathaniel P. Willis (1806-1867). It is the fashion nowadays to sneer at Willis's "milk-and-water" paraphrases of Scrip- ture stories, and in truth they are better fitted for babes than for men. But it should be remembered that in these poems of diluted pathos and effeminate sensibility Willis was merely doing with a good deal of literary grace what many other poets of the time were doing with none ; and, in particular, that this sickly stuff constituted only a small part of his literary output. Some of his poems have a pretty fancy. His two plays, Bianca Visconti (1837) and Tortesa the Usurer (acted in New York, 1838; in London, 1839), are written in Ii6 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. manly style, and the lighter scenes show literary deft- ness and lively wit. His prose writings were varied and entertaining, his sketches of notables whom he met abroad having some permanent interest. And he did much to further general literary culture at home by his labors as founder or editor of several magazines. 1 Alfred B. Street (1811-1881), state librarian of New York, in Frontenac (1849) made an ambitious but not very successful attempt to handle Indian and frontier life in Scott's narrative manner ; his nature poems are full of fine observation, and have some beauty of mood and ex- pression, although they are far inferior to Bryant's in depth and strength ; The Gray Forest-Eagle (in Poems, 1845), his best-known poem, has sweep of pinion, but is more rhetorical than poetical. Let it suffice, in passing to the great trio of the New York group, to mention Robert C. Sands (i 799-1832), William Leggett (1802- 1839), Ralph Hoyt (1806-1878), Park Benjamin (1809- 1864), and Henry T. Tuckerman (1S13-1871), who, with " many mor^ whose names on earth are dark," contributed their share to the literature of the Empire State. Washington Irving, 2 the first American man of letters 1 Some of his works are these: Sketches (poems), 1827; Melanie and Other Poems, 1835 ; Pencillings by the Way, 1835, 1844 ; Letters from under a Bridge, 1840 ; Poems of Passion, 1843 5 -Lady Jane and flu morons Poems, 1844; Dashes at Life with a Free Pencil, 1845; Hurrygraphs, 1851 ; Paul Fane (novel), 1857; The Convalescent, 1859. Willis's father founded The Youth's Companion in 1827. The poet established The American Monthly Magazine in 1829, which in 1831 was merged in The New York Mirror, with which he was connected for many years; in 1839 he started The Corsair, to which Thackeray con- tributed ; in 1846, with Morris, he founded The Home Journal and was one of its editors for the rest of his life. 2 Life. Born in New York City, April 3, 1783. Father, Scotch WASHINGTON IRVING. 117 to win the ear of Europe and take the sting of truth out of Syaney Smith's contemptuous question, "Who reads an American book?" 1 was only in part the product of tradesman ; mother, English. Began study of law, 1799. First trip to Europe, 1804-1806. Admitted to New York bar, 1806. Death of Matilda Hoffman, his betrothed, 1809. Became a silent partner in his brothers' cutlery business, 1810. Appointed military aide to Governor Tompkins, 1814. Second residence abroad, 1815-1832: in Great Britain, 1815-1820; in Germany, Austria, France, with two visits to England, 1820-1826; in Spain, 1826-1829; in England, as secretary of United States Legation, 1829-1831. Received medal from Royal Society of Literature, and degree of LL.D. from Oxford, 1830. Return to America, and tour through the Southwest, 1832. Residence at Sunnyside, 1836-1842, Third residence abroad, as minister to Spain, 1842-1846. Last years at Sunnyside, 1846-1859. Died at Sunnyside, Nov. 28, 1859. An Episcopalian. WORKS. Jonathan Oldstyle letters in The Morning Chronicle (owned by Irving's brother Peter), 1802. Salmagundi, Jan. 24, 1807- Jan. 25, 1808, twenty numbers at irregular intervals. The Literary Picture Gallery (" seven numbers of a . . . bagatelle in prose and verse," in which Irving probably "had a hand." — Warner's life of Irving, p. 51), 1808. A History of New York, by Diedrich Knicker- bocker, 1809. Articles in Select Reviews (afterwards called The Analec- tic Magazine), of which Irving was editor, 1812-1815 ; Traits of Indian Character and Philip of Pokanoket were reprinted in the English edition of The Sketch Book, and in subsequent American editions. The Sketch Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent, (published in seven parts), 1819-1820. Bracebridge Hall, 1822. Tales of a Traveller, 1824. The Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus, 1828; abridged edition, 1829. A Chronicle of the Conquest of Granada, 1829. Voyages and Discoveries of the Companions of Columbus, 1831. The Alhambra, 1832. The Crayon Miscellany: L, A Tour on the Prairies, 1835; II., Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey, 1835; III., Legends of the Con- quest of Spain, 1836. Astoria, 1836. Adventures of Captain Bonneville, 1837. Contributions to The Knickerbocker magazine, 1839-1841 ; republished, with some other matter, as Wolfert's Roost, 1855. A Biography of Margaret Davidson, 1841. Oliver Goldsmith : a Biogra- phy, 1849. Mahomet and his Successors, 1849-1850. The Life of George Washington, 1855-1859. Collected and revised edition of works, 1848-1850. Most of Irving's writings were published simul- taneously in America and England. 1 u In the four quarters of the globe, who reads an American book ? Or goes to an American play ? or looks at an American picture or n8 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. American influences. (His parents were natives of Great Britain; he owed most of his culture to prolonged resi- dence abroad; and the larger number of his subjects were taken from the life and history of England and Spain.J) His youth was not remarkably precocious, although at the age of twelve he contributed poems and essays to a local newspaper, and at thirteen wrote a play, which was acted at a friend's house. He was already devoted to the theatre, hurrying home at nine to attend family prayers, and then climbing out the window to return to the play. (A boy of his fun-loving temperament could not be expected to devote himself very seriously, at sixteen, to the study of the law, and in truth Irving was never a hard student of that abstruse subject. \ Of more value to the future author of Rip Van Winkle were the days spent with his gun in Sleepy Hollow in 1798, and a voyage up the Hudson two years later, where (he says) the "Kaatskill Mountains had the most witching effect on my boyish imagination." I Upon his coming of age the delicate state of his health induced his brothers to send him abroad; he spent a delightful year and a half in France, Italy, and England, frequenting theatres and art galleries, meeting distinguished men, and by his gentlemanly charm finding easy entrance everywhere into the best society.) On his return his life continued for many years to be rather an idle one. He belonged to a circle of convivial spirits, and the delights of society in New York, Albany, Baltimore, and Washington con- sumed much of his time. Two pieces of literary work — siatue?" — The Edinburgh Review, January, 1820. "The courteous and ingenious stranger [Irving] whom we are ambitious of introducing to the notice of our readers." — The Edinburgh Review, August, 1820. WASHINGTON IRVING. 119 Salmagundi and A History of New York — gave promise, however, of his future career. It was at this period, also, that the death of his betrothed, a lovely girl of eighteen, brought to Irving the great and lasting sorrow of his life. 1 Partly to divert his mind he resumed the interrupted History of New York, and with an aching heart wrote what was to set the world on laughter. This task completed, however, he sank back again into graceful indolence. During the first years of his second residence abroad, Irving made the acquaintance of Campbell, Scott, and other famous men, and gained that familiarity with English life which appears in the pages of The Sketch Book. But it was not till his brothers' bankruptcy, in 18 18, that he resolutely gave himself to literature as a profession. His first venture, The Sketch Book, at once became popular on both sides of the water, and brought in considerable sums. 2 From this time Irving' s life was one of continuous literary labor, interrupted only by travelling and by the duties of public office. His researches into the fascinating history of Spain prolonged his foreign residence far beyond his first intention. But his heart and imagina- tion still clung to the scenes of his youth; and when he returned to America, after an absence of seventeen years, his most cherished ambition was to make for himself "a nest " on the banks of the Hudson, and there 1 " I cannot tell you," he wrote years afterward, " what a horrid state of mind I was in for a long time. I seemed to care for nothing; the world was a blank to me. ... I was naturally susceptible, and tried to form other attachments, but my heart would not hold on." - P. M. Irving's life of Irving, Vol. I., pp. 226, 227. 2 Before his death Irving had earned by his pen $205,383. 120 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. spend the remainder of his days. His wish was grati* fied. In the old Dutch cottage near Tarrytown, over- grown with ivy from Melrose Abbey, he lived for many years, happy in his work and in the companionship of the relatives and friends with whom he loved to fill his bachelor home. Only once did he suffer himself to be drawn away for long, — when he represented his country at the court of Spain; he discharged the duties of his high office with dignity and tact, but was glad to return to his beloved Sunnyside and to his interrupted literary tasks. There his days gently declined, full of cheerful labor almost to the last, and there he died at a ripe old age, lamented by millions at home and abroad. Of Irving' s personal appearance a relative writes: " He had dark gray eyes, a handsome straight nose, . . . a broad, high, full forehead, and a small mouth. . . . His smile was exceedingly genial, lighting up his whole face and rendering it very attractive." ! George William Curtis says: "There was a chirping, cheery, old-school air in his appearance which was undeniably Dutch. . . . He seemed, indeed, to have stepped out of his own books; and the cordial grace and humor of his address, if he stopped for a passing chat, were delightfully char- acteristic. He was then our most famous man of letters, but he was simply free from all self-consciousness and assumption and dogmatism." 2 "His usual hours for literary work," says one reporting an interview with him in his last days, "were from morning till noon. . . . He had always been subject to moods and caprices, and 1 C. D. Warner's life of Irving (American Men of Letters series) f p. 48. - Easy Chair. WASHINGTON IRVING. 121 could never tell, when he took up the pen, how many hours would pass before he would lay it down. 'But/ said he, 'these capricious periods of the heat and glow of composition have been the happiest hours of my life. I have never found in anything outside of the four walls of my study any enjoyment equal to sitting at my writing- desk, with a clean page, a new theme, and a mind wide awake. . . . When I was in Spain, . . . and engaged on the Life of Columbus, I often wrote fourteen or fifteen hours out of the twenty-four. ' He said that whenever he had forced his mind unwillingly to work, the product was worthless, and he invariably threw it away." 1 Irving' s works fall into three groups: essays, sketches, and tales; descriptions of life in the West; biographies and histories The first group contains most of the writings by which he will be longest known. The Addisonian Oldstyle letters are merely promising per- formances for a youth of nineteen. 2 The Salmagundi essays also take their cue from The Spectator, but exceed it in frolicsomeness and youthful dash. "Our inten- tion," say the writers 3 in their first number, "is simply to instruct the young, reform the old, correct the town, and castigate the age." The town took kindly to such good-natured and amusing correction, and the publica- tion was, for the times, a great success. 4 Salmagundi 1 P. M. Irving's life of Irving, Vol. IV., pp. 319-321. 2 They were, however, generally copied into the newspapers of the day, and procured the young author a visit from C. B. Brown, who invited him to contribute to The Literary Magazine, 3 J. K. Paulding and Irving's brother William were associated with him. William wrote the poems by " Pindar Cockloft." For Paulding's share, see P. M. Irving's life of Irving, Vol. I., pp. 176-178. 4 It was reprinted in London in 1811 ; and in The Monthly Review was reviewed " much more favorably," says Irving, " than I had expected." 122 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. can still be read with considerable pleasure, although the fun is often beaten out too thin and most of it is the effervescence of youth rather than really penetrating humor or wit. The papers contain, however, the germ of much of Irving' s subsequent work. 1 A History of New York had for its main object "to embody the tradi- tions " of that city " in an amusing form; ... to clothe home scenes and places and familiar names with those imaginative and whimsical associations so seldom met with in our new country, but which live like charms and spells about the cities of the Old World." 2 A few de- scendants of old Dutch families, having more pedigree than humor, took the thing in a huff; but in general it was recognized as a humorous extravaganza, and met with a hearty welcome. It found some appreciative leaders abroad. Scott declared that his sides were " sore with laughing" over it; and Dickens wrote, "Diedrich Knickerbocker I have worn to death in my pocket." The book has faults enough. It is tediously prolix; the humor is too elaborate, and is sometimes indelicate; and from beginning to end is heard a blare of trumpets 1 " A chapter of ' The Chronicles of the renowned and ancient city of Gotham' . . . anticipates the humor of Knickerbocker; there are traits of tenderness and pathos suggestive of the plaintive sentiment of the Sketch Book; and the kindly humors of the Cockloft mansion are an American Bracebridge Hall." — E. A. Duyckinck, as quoted in P. M. Irving's life of Irving, Vol. I., p. 211. 2 The Author's Apology, written in 1848, as a preface to the new edition. He says, also, referring to the period of the Dutch domination : "This, then, broke upon me as the poetic age of our city; poetic from its very obscurity; and open ... to all the embellishments of heroic fiction. I hailed my native city as fortunate above all other American cities, in having an antiquity thus extending back into the regions of doubt and fable." Compare what was said on pages 109-111, about subjects for American literature. WASHINGTON IRVING. 123 announcing that of course the whole thing is tremen- dously funny. There is in it, nevertheless, a large body of hearty and genuine laughter, and it improves as it goes on, the mock-heroic capture of Fort Christina being as breezy a passage as any in Fielding. Irving was to do more finished work than Knickerbocker's New York, but he would never again do anything quite so free- limbed and robust. The Sketch Book, as a whole, has perhaps been commonly rated too high, chiefly be- cause it was the work by which the author first became widely known. "Rip Van Winkle/' "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow," "Westminster Abbey," " Stratford-on- Avon," "Little Britain," and two or three delightful pictures of English country life are about all the sketches that have really lived. One who nowadays reads the book through finds much of the thought and observation superficial, and the sentiment often overdone. The writer too consciously cherishes his emotions with a lively sense of their' preciousness; and in "Rural Fune- rals," and elsewhere, he seems, like the author of A Sentimental Journey, to be smacking his lips delicately over the honey of tears. * " Rip Van Winkle," however, is a masterpiece ; the dreamy beauty of the Catskills, a poetic old legend, the quaintness of old Dutch life, and the bustle of small politics under a republic are all com- bined and harmonized with wonderful skill ; and there is no finer character-sketch in our literature than the lovable old vagabond, Rip, as he goes slouching through the village, his arms full of children, a troop of dogs at his heels, and the shrill pursuing voice of Dame Winkle dying away in the distance. In Bracebridge Hall, which, in its main conception, is an expansion of cer- 124 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. tain parts of The Sketch Book, the author seems to be making the most of his material, dealing it out in small quantities well diluted. Partly to offset the resulting languor, several tales are introduced, rather flimsily con- nected with life at Bracebridge Hall but the best part of the book. "The Stout Gentleman " is one of Irving' s most life-like, acute, and suggestive sketches. " Dolph Heyliger " returns to Dutch life on the Hudson, where the creator of Diedrich Knickerbocker is always in happy mood. "The Student of Salamanca," with its pleasing union of love and adventure, points forward to the author's subsequent wanderings over the enchanted ground of Spanish history and romance. 1 In Tales of a Traveller, placid description now becomes merely a framework for lively narrative. " Strange Stories by a Nervous Gentleman " are sometimes a little broad, and the one about the Young Italian is sentimental, romantic, and morbid in a way now gone out of fashion. In "The Italian Banditti " the story of the Young Robber, by its repulsive tragedy, jars unpleasantly upon the holi- day atmosphere of the rest of the section. " The Money- Diggers " describes Dutch life in New York without the diffuseness of Knickerbocker's History, but with less wealth of humor. "Buckthorne and His Friends" is the most enjoyable part of the book, containing some capital satire upon the t/ade of authorship, and, in its pictures of the experiences of a strolling player and literary adventurer, having much of the careless charm of Smollett and Goldsmith. In The Alhambra, Irving 1 Irving's continued indebtedness to The Spectator is obvious. Squire Bracebridge is Sir Roger at his country-seat, and the Busy Man is Will Wimble put under a microscope. WASHINGTON IRVING. 125 had a congenial theme, his dreamy luxuriance and inno- cent voluptuousness finding their appropriate food in the skies, ruins, and legends of sunny, romantic Spain. The book has a unique value for the practical Anglo- Saxon mind, helping it to catch something of the dreamy romance of life in old Granada. The second and third groups may be passed over lightly. The books on life in the West, of which Asto- ria is the best, contain many interesting incidents and scenes; but the descriptions were mostly done from notes furnished by others, and, furthermore, Irving was not quite the man to paint adequately the vast panorama of the settling of the West. The biographies and his- tories have great charm of style, although as historical writings their rank is in the second class. The Life of Goldsmith is at once delightful, and true to the spirit of that lovable, garret-haunting Bohemian. The Life of Columbus y also, reproduces finely the atmosphere of large romance in the days of the great admiral. Washington Irving was not a great writer, but he was a very pleasing one. He lacked great passion, great imagination, great thought. His creative power was soon exhausted, and he turned to history for material. He did not see very deeply into human life. His satire, though kindly, is keen; but it is never great. His style sacrifices power to melody and grace ; it can soothe and charm, but it cannot electrify; he could say in it all that he had to say, but King Lear or Sartor Resartus could not be said in it. His humor never goes deep into human nature, and is often extravagant and some- times strained, although in his later works it is frequently spontaneous and delicate. His sentiment and pathos 126 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. are old-fashioned in manner, modern taste preferring a more dramatic or incidental handling of those dan- gerous elements. But although Irving will never again enjoy the same degree of fame which was his during the first half of the century, his position as an American classic is secure. He did two great services to American literature. He first revealed the romance of the Hudson and of old Dutch life, and he steeped his pages in the sunny tranquillity and placid beauty of his own spirit. American life has always lacked repose, never more so than now; and the modern reader may find wholesome refreshing in the pages of Washington Irving, forgetting there for a time " the weariness, the fever, and the fret " of an electric civilization. A very different man and a more powerful writer was James Fenimore Cooper, 1 burly, irascible, pugnacious, hearty in his loves and in his hates, the creator of the 1 Life. Born at Burlington, N.J., Sept. 15, 1789. Father, of Quaker descent and a congressman; mother, of Swedish descent. Family set- tled in Cooperstown, N.Y., 1790, where Mr. Cooper owned much land. Attended the village school ; then became the private pupil of an Albany vector ; entered Yale, 1802 ; dismissed for participation in a frolic, 1805. Served before the mast in a merchant vessel, 1806-1807 ; served as mid- shipman in the navy, part of the time on Lakes Ontario and Champlain, 1807-1811. Married Miss DeLancey, 1811 ; five daughters and two sons were born to him. Resided at Mamaroneck, 1811-1814; Cooperstown, 1814-1817; Scarsdale, 1817-1822; New York, 1822-1826. Lived in Europe, chiefly in France and Italy, 1826-1833 ; consul at Lyons, 1826- 1829. Returned to America, 1833 ; lived by turns at New York and at Cooperstown. Died at Cooperstown, Sept. 14, 1851 ; wife died four months later. An Episcopalian. Works. Precaution, 1820. The Spy, 1821. The Pioneers, 1823. The Pilot, 1824 (imprint, 1823). Lionel Lincoln, 1825. The Last of the Mohicans, 1826. The Prairie, 1827. The Red Rover, 1828. The Wept of Wish-ton-Wish (= The Borderers), 1829. The Water-Witch, 1830. The Bravo, 1831. The Heidenmauer, 1832. The Headsman, 1833. The Monikins, 1835. Homeward Bound, 1838. Home as JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 127 American novel of adventure. His early life was an excellent preparation for his subsequent career as an author. His childhood was passed on the shores of the beautiful Otsego lake, at the edge of the primeval forest, where the grandeur and wild beauty of nature in the New World could sink their impressions deep into his youthful imagination. He made the acquaintance of trappers and old Indian-fighters, from whom he heard many a thrilling tale and gained some knowledge of woodcraft. He knew the sailor's life on the ocean and the Great Lakes by experience as a common seaman and as an officer in the navy. He was thus unwittingly acquiring a store of material of great literary value; and his three years at college, although they were rather idle ones, must have given him some literary culture. But for a long time the thought of commencing author seems never to have occurred to him. He married young; resigned from the navy at his wife's request; and, having inherited a comfortable property, settled down content- edly to the management of it and to the joys of family Found (=Eve Effingham), 1838. The History of the Navy of the United States of America, 1839 ; abridged edition, 1841. The Path- finder, 1840. Mercedes of Castile, 1840. The Deerslayer, 1841. The Two Admirals, 1842. The Wing-and-Wing (= The Jack o' Lantern), 1842. Wyandotte, 1843. Ned Meyers [the life of one of Cooper's shipmates], 1843. Afloat and Ashore, 1844. Miles Wallingford (= Lucy Hardinge) [sequel to Afloat and Ashore], 1844. Satanstoe, 1845. The Chainbearer, 1846. Lives of Distinguished American Naval Officers, 1846. The Redskins (= Ravensnest), 1846. The Islets of the Gulf, 1846-1848 in Graham's Magazine ; 1848 in book form, as Jack Tier (= Captain Spike). The Crater (= Mark's Reef), 1847. The Oak Openings (= The Bee Hunter), 1848. The Sea Lions, 1849. The Ways of the Hour, 1850. The titles of the English editions, when they differed from the American, are given in parentheses. Cooper *lso wrote several tales for Graham s Magazine % ten volumes of travels ind a good deal of controversial matter. 128 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. life. He was thirty years old before he wrote his first novel, and even then his plunge into the literary life was the result of accident and caprice. One day, while reading an English novel to his wife, he suddenly stopped and said, " I believe I could write a better story myself." A challenge to do so aroused him to the attempt, and the result was Precaution, a dull novel of English life, teaching the need of care in entering upon matrimony. The book was a failure, and deserved to be. Still, it showed some promise, and his friends urged him to try again. They counselled well, for The Spy was an immense success, and made its author famous at home and abroad. Cooper now removed to New York City, where he became a prominent figure and founded a club, to which Bryant, Halleck, Verplanck, Chancellor Kent, and other brilliant men belonged. The novels which he put forth with a rapidity rivalling Scott's raised his reputation higher and higher. 1 The income from their sale repaired his somewhat damaged fortune, and enabled him to take an extended European tour with his family. In Paris he received the most flattering attentions from the leaders of society; Scott in his diary for November 6, 1826, speaking of a gathering at the Princess Galitzin's, says, " Cooper was there, so the Scotch and American lions took the field together." Cooper was charmed with French society, and the skies and scenery of Italy he passionately loved. But he was the same sturdy patriot 1 " I dined yesterday ... in a company of authors. ... Mr. Cooper engrossed the whole conversation, and seems a little giddy with the great success his works have met with." — Letter by Bryant, ftpril 24, 1824, in his life by Godwin, Vol. I., p. 189. JAxMES FENIMORE COOPER. 129 as before. European, and especially English, criticism of the United States, often ignorant, prejudiced, or condescending, aroused all the fighter in him, and in works of fiction 1 and public letters he took up cudgels for his country. He soon got himself cordially hated, and even some American newspapers censured him severely for "flouting his Americanism throughout Europe." Thus wounded in the house of his friends while fighting their battles, Cooper returned to America after seven years' absence, aggrieved and irritated. Contrasting the United States with the older civilization of Europe, he found much that needed correction, and he went at the work with his favorite blunt-headed weapon. He speedily had a hornets' nest about his ears; but it was not in him to run. For years the lion- hearted fellow — would that he had also had the wisdom of the serpent ! — did battle almost single-handed with the press of America, even carrying the matter into the courts, where he won suit after suit for libel. It was a ruffling and fruitless quarrel. But although it embit- tered Cooper's later years and absorbed much of his vast energy, it did not prevent him from doing a deal of other work, including two of his best novels. His last days he spent almost wholly in the beautiful region of his childhood, busy with labors and projects, and blessed in the domestic love which, like oil on troubled waters, spread a circle of calm around the old sailor and fighter even when his voyage was stormiest. The end came somewhat suddenly at last, his vigorous constitution breaking down at several points simul- 1 Notions of the Americans (1828), The Bravo, The Heidenmauer t The Headsman. K 130 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. taneously; but in his sixty-two years he had lived much and well. Of Cooper's thirty-two novels not more than half have ever been much read, and eight are far superior to all the rest. The reasons for the inferiority of the poorer works are obvious. There was a brilliant story-teller in Cooper, but there was also a prosy moralist and reformer; and when circumstances called the latter to the front, it went hard with the story-teller. Thus in The Heiden- mauer, The Monikins, and The Redskins, three of the worst novels, the narrative is insufferably tedious, while the satire is heavy and the ideas uninteresting. The same preaching tendency is responsible for those in- terminable reflections and conversations which come between scenes of thrilling action in Wing- and- Wing, Afloat and Ashore, Homeward Bound, and other novels with a good story. Furthermore, Cooper's inability to get under way quickly, to make love affairs interesting, and to handle humorous characters successfully — limita- tions which injure even his best novels — are simply fatal to those in which the compensating merits are few or altogether wanting. Of the eight novels which by common consent are much the best, The Pilot and The Red Rover are stories of the sea. Cooper's originality here is not substantially lessened by the fact that it was Scott's The Pirate which, by its defects, set him to writing The Pilot; for the American sailor not only used sea-lingo more accurately and fully than the Scotch landsman had, but he also made the plot turn and the interest depend chiefly upon the events at sea. In this very true sense Cooper was the creator of the sea-novel; and he is never more in JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 131 his element than when once fairly afloat with a good ship under him, a storm brewing on the horizon, a corvette or a wicked but interesting pirate coming up rapidly on the weather-bow, an old tar drawing the long-bow in the forecastle, and the weather-beaten captain or mysterious pilot preparing to execute some manoeuvre which shall outwit elements and enemy alike. In scenes of storm and of battle Cooper is nothing less than great. He has an apparently inexhaustible store of incidents, foi his marine adventures are as varied as they are interest- ing. He describes nautical movements with enough precision and detail to give the landsman an agreeable sense of novelty and a comfortable assurance that the thing was properly done, yet avoids that excess of tech- nical language which only perplexes and fatigues. And he succeeds in making one realize something of the true sailor's love for the sea and for his vessel; we groan with Long Tom as the Ariel drives to her death on a lea shore. But his best sea-characters are not interesting merely because they are sailors. They are also real and true men. The lank Yankee tar, with a hitch to his trousers and a crotchet in his head, as good at spinning a yarn or criticising the tactics of his superior as at splicing a rope or coolly manning a gun in the heat of action; the rough sailing-master, who maybe swears too much, but takes tender care of his old mother on shore and dies with his thoughts divided between her and his duties; the bluff captain, cheerily concealing his anxiety, in time of peril, from the delicate women committed to his care; the gallant young naval officer, American or English, who manfully risks life and love in his country's cause, — these and other sea- types live vividly in Cooper's 132 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. pages; and the reader is braver and more generous* hearted for knowing them. The Spy stands somewhat by itself, being more strictly a his'torical novel than any other of the best eight. 1 Its portrait of Washington is hardly recognizable; but its sympathetic pictures of the embarrassing position of a mild Tory, 2 and of the lawless border-warfare, are true to the times. The chief interest of the book, however, centres in Harvey Birch, the spy, who is one of the author's best portraitures for the pathos of his situation and the moral dignity of his character. 3 But Cooper's most distinctive work is his Leatherstocking tales. 4 He was the creator of the novel of Indian adventure, and his followers are not his rivals. He was fortunate in being near enough to the life of Indian and trapper without being too near; in consequence, he could make his scenes and actors at once lifelike and ideal. He was also fortunate in his temperament. There was a vein of large poetry in him, which enabled him to paint 1 The story of the spy himself is founded upon fact, Cooper getting it from John Jay. Of the poorer novels, Satanstoe gives a faithful picture of colonial life in New York at the middle of the eighteenth century, and describes scenes connected with Abercrombie's defeat on Lake George in 175S : Mercedes deals with the first voyage of Columbus. 2 Cooper's wife came of a Tory family. 3 The Spy was soon translated into all the principal languages of Europe. It is on record that a distinguished French spy under Louis Philippe drew his inspiration from the example of Birch. In a book on Nicaragua, published the year after Cooper's death, the author says that The Spy " seems to be better known in Spanish America than any other work in the English language ; I found it everywhere." See Lounsburv's life of Cooper, pp. 37, 38. 4 The Deer slayer, The Last of the Afohicans, The Pathfinder, The Pioneers, The Prairie. This order, which is the chronological one with reference to the life of Leatherstocking, is easily remembered by the feet that the titles follow the order of the alphabet. JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 133 nature in the New World with a powerful brush — the beauty of the wood-encircled lake, the grandeur and solitude of the unpeopled forest, the oceanlike ex- panse of the prairie. He was also, like his great con- temporary Scott, a natural fighter, and flung himself with robust joy into descriptions of deadly peril and hair- breadth escapes. It is the abundance of thrilling incident in these novels that gives them their absorbing interest, and criticisms upon their faults in other respects conse- quently fall to the ground. We forgive the young men for their insipid love-making, because they fight so well. We forgive the " females " for their lovely helplessness, since they exist merely to be rescued. We perhaps ought to forgive Leatherstocking for his ill-timed gar- rulity, — although most of us probably do not, — seeing that it is our interest in his daring, coolness, and skill which makes us impatient of his philosophy. But it would be unjust to Cooper to imply that none of his land-characters are interesting in themselves. Chingach- gook and Uncas awake admiration for their noble quali- ties; *The Last of the Mohicans is made really tragic by the pathetic death of the young chief. Cooper's good Indians may never have existed outside his pages; but as ideal figures they are certainly interesting inside his pages, and for a romancer that is the main thing. 1 Leatherstocking is the greatest of the author's creationSc 1 There is no need to renew the controversy about the truthfulness of Cooper's delineation of Indian character; the topic is already as bald as if the Big Serpent had passed his knife around the head of it. But the reader may at least be reminded that Cooper knew and studied Indians, and that he represented most of them as drunken, cruel, and treacherous; if therefore he endowed a few with qualities not in fact possessed by any, he doubtless did it deliberately as a legitimate device of the romancer's art. 134 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. Not the least of his merits as a figure in the novels is the deep and poetic harmony which exists between his nature and the vast solitudes in which he lives. He is a middle term between civilization and nature; the buckskin hamadryad of the New World; an American Pan, with a Christian soul instead of heathen hoofs. The consistency with which his character is maintained is surprising, especially when one remembers that the last novel in which he appears was written eighteen years after the first. The difficulty was further increased by the fact that he was first conceived as an old man, and his youth described last of all, while the other periods of his life were filled-in in very erratic order. Yet he is fundamentally the same man from beginning to end, the ' secondary differences caused by differences in age and situation making the portrayal only the more deeply consistent. The Pioneers is the poorest of the series; for Cooper's interest in the scenes of his youth led him into too much description at the start, and the subse- quent action is comparatively tame. The Pathfinder suffers a good deal from the clumsy humor, the tedious dialogues on love and religion, and Pathfinder's un- natural role as a lover; but the running the gauntlet into the fort and the scenes on the island are superb. "Its interest is tremendous," said Balzac. The Last of the Mohicans will probably always be the favorite with the majority of readers, for its almost uninterrupted rush of thrilling incident. But The Deerslayer has an un- rivalled freshness in its pictures of nature and of the young hunter and the young brave; and in The Prairie the account of the squatter's grim justice and of the quickening of his own conscience contains a mora) JAMES FENIMORE COOPER. 135 depth and a stern strength not elsewhere seen, while the tranquil death of the aged hunter has an autumnal beauty. Cooper is the only American author who has been widely read on the continent of Europe, and he is a worthy representative of the largeness and primitive vigor of life in the New World. The romance of the American forest and prairie, of the American Indian, hunter, scout, and pioneer, allures cultured and uncul- tured alike through his pages; and in the successive removes of Leatherstocking, as he retreats before the westward-setting tide of civilization, may be read the New World's epic of action in the conquest of a conti- nent. But the culture, the deeper thought, the humor, and many other phases of American life are poorly, or not at all, represented in Cooper's writings. His work- manship is careless. His style at its best has rapid motion and rich color — the two qualities most needed in the semi-historical novel of action; but it is un- polished, and often slipshod, heavy, and diffuse. In the conduct of the story he shows much skill, espe- cially in single scenes, excelling in the art of prolonged and breathless suspense. 1 His character-drawing is primitive in method and narrow in range. A few !A favorite method with him is to open with a series of exciting events, which have a certain unity by themselves ; a short lull follows, after which the main action begins. The method allows of variety and length of action without fatigue, and the first series of incidents also serves to make the reader acquainted with the characters, so that in the main action they have an added interest as old and well-tried friends. In The Pathfinder the preliminary action ends with the entrance into the fort ; in The Prairie, with the squatter's gaining possession of the rock ; in The Pilot, with the ship's escape from the breakers ; in The Red Rover, with the shipwreck of the hero and heroine and their rescue by the Rover. 136 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. simple and noble types he could depict admirably; for the rest, he resorted to pasteboard and the shears, or set a wooden manikin to capering stiff-jointedly in most doleful-merry fashion. 1 He has been often compared to Scott. The points of likeness are ob- vious. But the two men were, after all, very different, and the American novelist is on the whole decidedly inferior. He is the equal of the Scotchman, if not his superior, in feeling for the large aspects of nature, in pictures of sea-life, and in rapid, intense action. But the Wizard of the North is superior in style, in humor, in pathos, in command of the uncanny and supernatu- ral, in character-portrayal, and in power and sweep of imagination. Nevertheless, Cooper in his own more limited field is great; and his genius is more dis- tinctively American than that of either of his two im- mediate predecessors in prose fiction. William Cullen Bryant 2 came of the purest New 1 One phase of his careless workmanship is his suddenly thrusting some mannerism of speech into the mouth of a character and making him thenceforth use it continually; thus Cap, in The Pathfinder, is pre- sented with the word "circumstances" in Chapter XIII., and thence- forth harps upon it continually to the end of the book. Consistency of character is sometimes sacrificed to the needs of the plot, as when Sergeant Dunham and Cap, in the same novel, are suddenly made hyper-suspicious of Jasper Western, because the action required that he should be deprived of his command. 2 Life. Born in Cummington, Mass., Nov. 3, 1794. Attended district school ; studied Latin and Greek with two clergymen ; spent seven months at Williams College as a sophomore, 1810-1811 ; studiec law at Worthington and Bridgewater, 1811-1815. Adjutant in militia, 1816-1817. Practised law at Plainfield, 18 16 ; at Great Barrington, 1816-1825. Married Frances Fairchild, 1821; two daughters \ver_ born to him. Editor of The New York Review, 1825-1826; an editoi and part owner of The United States Review, 1826-1827 ; assistant editor of the New York Evening Post, 1826-1829; editor-in-chief, with partial ownership, 1829-1878. Visited Illinois, 1832, 1841, 1846; WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 137 England stock, one of his paternal ancestors having set- tled in Massachusetts about 1632, and his mother being a descendant of John Alden. The poet spent the first thirty years of his life in Massachusetts, where he wrote many of his best poems; but for half a century he lived in New the South, 1843, l8 73; Europe, 1834-1836, 1845, l8 49. l8 57- l8 58, 1866 • 1867; Cuba, 1849; Europe and the Orient, 1852-1853; West Indies and Mexico, 1872. Bought estate near Roslyn, Long Island, 1843 ! tne old homestead at Cummington, 1865. Wife died, 1865. Gave public library to Cummington, 1872. Died in New York City, June 12, 1878; buried at Roslyn. A Unitarian. WORKS. The Embargo, 1808 ; second edition, 1809, with " The Span- ish Revolution " and other poems. Poems, 1821 — " The Ages," " To a Waterfowl," " Fragment from Simonides," " Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood," '• The Yellow Violet," " Song" (Soon as the glazed, etc.), "Green River," " Thanatopsis." Poems, 1832 — included eighty-two new poems: "Forest Hymn," "The Rivulet," "The Massacre at Scio," "Monument Mountain," "Song of Marion's Men," "The Hurricane," " Summer Wind," " A Winter Piece," " Oh Fairest of the Rural Maids," "June," "To the Fringed Gentian," "To a Cloud," "After a Tempest," " Lines on Revisiting the Country," "The Death of the Flowers," etc. ; reprinted, London, 1832. " Medfield " and "The Skeleton's Cave," in Tales of the Glauber Spa, 1832. Poems, 1834 — included four new poems: "The Prairie," etc. Poems, 1836 — included twelve new poems: "The Living Lost," "Earth," "The Hunter of the Prairies," etc. The Fountain and Other Poems, 1842 — consisted of fifteen new poems: "The Green Mountain Boys," "An Evening Reverie," "The Painted Cup," "The Antiquity of Freedom," etc. The White-Footed Deer and Other Poems, 1844 — consisted of ten new poems : " Noon," " The Crowded Street," " A Summer Ramble," " A Hymn of the Sea," etc. ; reprinted, with the previous poems, as The Poetical Works, London, 1844. Poems, 1847 — included two new poems. Letters of a Traveller, 1850 ; second series, 1859. Poems, 1854 — included ten new poems: "The Unknown Way," "Oh Mother of a Mighty Race," " The Land of Dreams," " The Snow-Shower," M A Rain Dream," "Robert of Lincoln," etc. Thirty Poems, 1863 (imprint, 1864) — included twenty-seven new poems: "The Planting of the Apple Tree," "The Wind and Stream," "The Song of the Sower," "The Cloud on the Way," "The Tides," "A Day Dream," " Waiting by the Gate," " Sella," " The Little People of the Snow," etc. Letters from the East, 1869. Translation of the Iliad, 1870. Transla- tion of the Odyssey, 1871-1872. Orations and Addresses, 1873. 13S THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. York, and may therefore most conveniently be classed with the Knickerbocker school. His early surroundings were favorable for the development of a poet of nature. In natural beauty western Massachusetts resembles the English lake district, — streams, lakes, valleys, and mountains combining into a whole of singular variety and charm; it is no wonder that the boy was from " earliest years a delighted observer of external nature." ! Nor was the stimulus of books wanting. Bryant's father, a physician and a state legislator, was a man of literary tastes, writing respectable verse himself, and his library was pretty well stocked with the best English writers. The poet was precocious, knowing his letters at sixteen months and writing verses at eight years, while The Embargo was an astonishing performance for a green country lad of thirteen. 2 He was an ardent student. Greek fascinated him, and he made rapid progress in it. His father's circumstances not allowing him, however, to complete a college course, he gave himself with fidelity to the study of the law. But nature and poetry were his deepest love, and he could not forego them altogether. It was just as he was about to begin his law studies that he wrote Thanatopsis , in the autumn of 181 1; and four years later, climbing the hills at sunset to his first place of trial as a practitioner of the law, he saw a waterfowl "darkly painted on the crimson sky," and his law career began with an immortal poem written that very night. An unfortunate love affair threw a dark cloud over him 1 Autobiography, in Godwin's life of Bryant, Vol. I., p. 25. 2 In early years he was accustomed, he says, to pray to God " with great fervor " that he " might receive the gift of poetic genius, and write verses that might endure." — Autobiography, in Godwin's life of Bryant, Vol. I., p. 26. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 139 for awhile during his legal studies; but it passed away, and a letter written in 18 14 shows that the author of Thanatopsis was not above enjoying balls and sailing- parties. The War of 181 2 meantime was becoming more and more unpopular in New England, and talk of secession was not uncommon. The future editor of The Evening Post and author of Not Yet was a rather warm secessionist in those days, joining the militia "for the defence of the state " in case it should be necessary to resist the central government. 1 But the muse, and not Bellona, was about to bring him fame. Doctor Bryant had discovered the manuscript of Thanatopsis and of a few other poems, hidden in the pigeon-holes of a desk; and when his friend Phillips, one of the editors of The North American Review, asked him for a contribution from his talented son, he sent * Thanatopsis and the Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood. Both poems appeared in the Review for September, 181 7, and were recognized by the judicious as the best poetry that had yet been published in America. 2 Bryant now became an occasional contributor in verse and prose to The North American Review and to Dana's The Idle Man ; and in 1825 he threw up the law altogether, although he was now getting some reputation in it, 3 and, removing 1 " The force now to be organized may not be altogether employed against a foreign enemy ; it may become necessary to wield it against an intestine foe." " It will be time enough [next June] to tell the world that the original compact between the States is dissolved [i.e., if it should then be necessary]." — Bryant's letters in 1814 and 1815, in Godwin's life of him, Vol. I., pp. 129, 135. 2 When R. H. Dana heard Thanatopsis read from manuscript, he said, " Phillips, you have been imposed upon ; no one on this side of the Atlantic is capable of writing such verses." — Godwin's life of Bryant, Vol. I., p. 150. 3 He was called to argue cases at New Haven and before the Supreme Court at Boston. 140 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. to New York, began that long editorial career which was to end only with his life. It is not necessary tc follow it in detail. As editor of the Post) which he conducted with great ability and high principle, he wielded a steadily increasing influence. He became in time the foremost citizen of New York, universally re- spected and in his old age revered. The increasing pros- perity of his newspaper enabled him to take those many foreign trips which broadened his view without in the least diminishing his deep and intelligent Americanism. It also surrounded him and his loved ones with abundant comforts in declining years, and helped to prolong his days, in moderate toil, to an age reached in such vigor by very few among the sons of men. And when at last he fell, he fell as the granite column falls, smitten from without, but sound within. 1 Bryant's hale old age was due in part to heredity, his ancestors being famous for longevity and strength. 2 But in youth he was puny, and throughout most of his life he subjected himself to a careful regimen in food, drink, and exercise. 3 Mr. Godwin gives this picture of him at 1 On May 29 the wonderful old man, then in his eighty-fourth year, made an address in Central Park at the raising of a statue to Mazzini, the Italian patriot. His uncovered head was for a time exposed to the full glare of the sun. Shortly after, while entering a house, he fell backward, striking his head upon the stone steps; concussion of the brain and paralysis resulted. 2 The poet says of his father, " He would take up a barrel of cider and lift it into a cart over the wheel." — Godwin's life of Bryant, Vol. I., P. 3. 8 He thus described his manner of life at seventy-seven : " I rise early, . . . about half-past five; in summer half an hour, or even an hour, earlier. Immediately, ... I begin a series of exercises. . . . These are performed with dumb-bells, . . . with a pole, and a light chair swung round my head. After a full hour . . . passed in this manner, I bathe from head to foot. . . . Animal food I never take at WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 141 middle age: "He was of . . . medium height, spare in figure, with a clean-shaven face, unusually large head, bright eyes, and a wearied, severe, almost saturnine ex- pression of countenance. One, however, remarked at once the exceeding gentleness of his manner, and a rare sweetness in the tone of his voice, as well as an extraor- dinary purity in his selection and pronunciation of English." 1 In old age he had the look of a Hebrew prophet. With a reference to this majesty of appearance and the yet greater majesty of his high soul, George William Curtis said : "We saw in his life the simple dignity which we associate with the old republics. So Lycurgus may have ruled in Sparta, so Cato may have walked in Rome — an uncrowned regality in that vener- able head." 2 Yet with all his great qualities, Bryant has been accused of being cold. Hawthorne found him so. 3 Even as a young man he had a certain reserve, which allowed of no familiarities. He did not wear his heart on his sleeve, and he could not tolerate gash. But those who knew him intimately found "hidden depths of feel- ing" under his "calm and unimpassioned manner"; 4 breakfast. Tea and coffee I never touch at any time. . . . After breakfast I occupy myself for a while with my studies ; and when in town I walk down to the office of the ' Evening Post,' nearly three miles distant, and after about three hours return, always walking, whatever be the weather or the state of the streets. ... In the country I dine early, , . . making my dinner mostly of vegetables.. . . My drink is water, yet I sometimes, though rarely, take a glass of wine." — Godwin's life of Bryant, Vol. II., pp. 297-298. 1 Life of Bryant, Vol. I., p. 334. 2 Commemorative address on Bryant, in Orations and Addresses, Vol. III., p. 360. 3 " A very pleasant man to associate with, but rather cold, I should imagine, if one should seek to touch his heart with one's own." — French and Italian Note-Books, May 22, 1858. 4 Godwin's life of Bryant, Vol. II., p. 309. 142 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. his home life was beautiful; and his friendships, though few, were strong and lasting. 1 Yet intellect and abstract principle were a large part of his nature, and Haw- thorne's amended phrase states the case well: "He is not eminently an affectionate man." 2 Bryant wrote excellent prose. His letters of travel, full of keen observation, are written in delightful Eng- lish. He developed a peculiar talent for commemora- tive addresses, the one on Washington Irving being perhaps the most notable. His tales were less success- ful, as he had not much narrative gift. He is famous chiefly as a poet of nature. Yet other elements appear frequently in his verse — the Indians; freedom, slavery, and war; love; the fanciful and the supernatural; medi- tations on life and death. In a few poems he attempted humor, but his Mayflower ancestry laid heavy hands upon it. 8 His treatment of love, also, is slight and incidental. Of the lines suggested by slavery, freedom, and war, only the Song of Marion's Men allures to many re-readings; in that one hears the very gallop of those light-heeled troopers, making half a holiday of their 1 His intimacy with R. H. Dana was lifelong. Upon first going to New York, he became one of the little circle of literati and artists who soon formed themselves into " The Sketch Club," successor to Cooper's " Bread and Cheese Lunch " and forerunner of " The Century Club." Yet Mr. Godwin says that when he first became acquainted with the poet, in 1836, he " was surprised to observe how few habitual visitors he seemed to have," and that " this seclusion was due partly to choice," but that in later years " he began to feel more and more the need of intimate associations," and in old age his friends observed " how he had mellowed with time, the irritabilities of his earlier days had been wholly overcome, his reluctance to mingle with men was quite gone." — Life of Bryant, Vol. I., pp. 335, 336, 408, Vol. II., p. 390. 2 French and Italian Note-Books, June 9, 1858. 8 About the year 1823, Bryant even wrote a farce, The Heroes, in ridicule of duelling, and tried in vain to get it staged in New York. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 143 plucky and picturesque fight for freedom. The Indian poems are not very successful. It is difficult to realize the woes of an Indian who says " methinks " and describes the white man's coach-and-four in the manner of a Queen Anne poetaster : — And prancing steeds, in trappings gay, Whirl the bright chariot o'er the way. 1 Bryant succeeds better when he uses Indian customs and beliefs as a setting for universal human passion, as in The Indian Girl's Lament and Monument Mountain ; or merely describes the Indian without attempting to make him talk, as in The Disinterred Warrior. Nearly all of Bryant's best poetry has to do with nature, life and death, or creations of the fancy. The nature poetry and the meditations on life and death are often combined in the same poem. His favorite method was to begin by describing some natural object — a river, a prairie, a breeze, — and then imagine the various phases of human life that had been or would be asso- ciated with it; a commonplace and rather cheap device, that does not improve with repetition. The same love of broad surveys appears also in poems wholly medita- tive, as The Ages, The Crowded Street, and The Flood of Years, which represent his early, middle, and later work, and show how persistent was this tendency of his reflective, non-dramatic temperament. None of his purely meditative poems is remarkable. 2 In fact, Bryant 1 An Indian at the Burial-Place of his Fathers. 2 The Ages has been much over-praised ; its handling of the Spen- serian stanza is stiff, and its review of history crude. The Crowded Street and Waiting by the Gate rise little above the level of the better class of newspaper poetry. The Flood of Years is dignified common- place. 144 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. loses the better part of his strength when he loses contact with the earth. Thanatopsis is his greatest reflective poem largely because its central thought rises so directly out of the contemplation of a sublime fact of nature, and is practically one with it. As the youthful poet gazed upon the face of nature at the fall of the leaf, and, sending his thought over the earth, back into the past, and onward into the future, beheld death everywhere as a great natural fact, something of the large steadfastness and solemn calm of the All-Mother came into his soul and gave birth to this poem : since death is natural and universal, it must be well; the sublimity of the eternal process stills the spirit's petty flutterings, and brings a high, stern calm. R. H. Stoddard has said that Thana- topsis is " the greatest poem ever written by so young a man." "What renders it more remarkable," adds Mr. Godwin, "is the suddenness with which it breaks away from everything he had hitherto attempted." Up to this time his verses had been conventional though clever echoes of English poetry of the eighteenth cen- tury. But here was a poem which " came out of the heart of our primeval woods," 1 and has a style and a music of its own — stately but not pompous, solemn but not heavy, combining the richness of the organ with the freedom of the swaying woods and the rolling sea. 2 1 Godwin's life of Bryant, Vol. I., p. 99. 2 Just before writing Thanatopsis he had been reading Henry Kirke White's poems, much taken with their " melancholy tone," Blair's Grave, Porteus on Death, Southey's shorter poems, and Cowper's The Task. The germ of the thought, as Mr. Godwin points out, is in these lines by Blair : — What is this world ? What but a spacious burial-field unwalled, Strewed with death's spoils, the spoils of animals WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. MS In other of the nature poems reflection sinks to a subordinate place or is omitted altogether. The In- scription for the Entrance to a Wood breathes the very essence of woodland life — the calm shade, the cool breeze, the barky moisture, the glad animal and insect life, the mossy antiquity, the warm sunshine striking in through the swaying treetops, the green wildness and freedom of it all. It smells of the moist earth more than anything in Wordsworth, is a step nearer to the essence of primitive nature. In A Forest Hymn there is the same breath of the fresh woods, with more eleva- tion of thought; Bryant's sense of the presence of God in nature is as immediate and real as Wordsworth's, but is not so deep and large, and in style the poem nowhere approaches the sublimity of parts of Tintern Abbey. But Bryant is again superior to Wordsworth in the larger and sterner phases of the elemental feeling for nature. The Hurricane has no parallel in the poems of the English poet for its imaginative abandon to the Savage and tame, and full of dead men's bones. The very turf on which we tread once lived, And we that live must lend our carcasses To cover our own offspring; in their turns They, too, must cover theirs. Godwin continues, in a passage which deserves transcription : " The versification may, perhaps, bear traces of Cowper and Southey, although it is more terse, compact, energetic, and harmonious than either of them; its pauses, cadences, rhythms are different, and it has a movement of its own, a deep organ-like roll, which corresponds to the sombre nature of the theme. A lingering memory of the sublime lamentations of Job, an impression from the Greeks of that ineffable sadness which moans through even their lightest music, and his recent readings, may all have conspired to influence its tone ; but the real inspiration of it came from the infinite solitudes of our forests, stretching interminably inland over the silent work of death ever going on within their depths." — Life of Bryant, Vol. I., p. 99. 146 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. delirium of storm. In Summer Wind, "fierce sun- shine," "dazzling light," "bright clouds," and "brazen sky " are depicted with Greek-like severity and radiance; and in After a Tempest and Jime the sense of sunshine lying rich and golden along the earth is conveyed power- fully with a few words. In The Prairie earth and sky are felt in their elemental simplicity and largeness. Yet the lighter, prettier, more delicate phases of nature are handled with joyousness and grace in Green River, The Yellow Violet, To the Fringed Gentian, Robert of Lincoln, and other poems; while the poet's minute and loving knowledge of nature is shown almost everywhere. 1 Bry- ant moralizes nature too much. In * To a Waterfowl the lesson springs naturally from his poetic feeling of fellow- ship with the bird — both are creatures of the Great God, "lone wandering, but not lost"; it therefore deepens the spiritual significance, without injury to the poetry, although it might have been introduced with less formality. But in several other poems the moral h obtruded, and nature seems to be degraded into a text. Bryant is most like Wordsworth in the poems whicl speak of the calming and elevating influence of nature upon man. 2 The two poets are also alike in having written little upon mountains or the sea. But in gen 1 There is special delicacy and beauty of observation in The Death oj the Flowers, The S?ww-Shoiver, A Ram- Dream. Bryant's friends speal of the range and accuracy of the knowledge of natural objects which he would incidentally reveal in the course of a walk. He was a skilled botanist. 2 In Oh Fairest of the Rural Maids the similarity to Three Years She Grew is too close to be accidental. A Summer Ramble reminds one of To My Sister. The Yellow Violet suggests To the Daisy. Lines on Revisiting the Country, Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood, A Forest J/yniM, and other poems, have striking points of resemblance to Tintern Abbey. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. 147 eral Bryant is as original as Wordsworth. The English poet had a powerful effect upon him, but it was by un- locking the treasures in his own soul, not by setting him models for imitation. 1 It has usually been said that Bryant had no poetic development, but this is not wholly true. His fancy was 1 late flower; and the poet who in youth wrote poems for old men, in age wrote charming verses for children. This new emphasis upon the fanciful appeared first in a few nature poems, as To a Cloud, The Painted Cup, and The Wind and Stream. It was accompanied by an un- successful attempt to handle the weird supernatural, in Catterskill Falls and The Strange Lady. But in later years the beautiful supernatural received delicate treat- ment in Sella and The Little People of the Snow. 2, Bry- ant's translation of the Iliad and the Odyssey shows somewhat the fatigue of age ; it also fails to reproduce the rapidity and sustained poetical elevation of the 1 Bryant first read the Lyrical Ballads in 1810. " He said that, upon opening the book, a thousand springs seemed to gush up at once in his heart, and the face of Nature, of a sudden, to change into a strange freshness and life." — R. H. Dana, as quoted in Godwin's life of Bryant, Vol. I., p. 104. 2 Bryant's workmanship, too, shows development in these poems. The blank verse is not the blank verse of Thanatopsis ; it is lighter, more rapid, as befits a story-poem, and, like the delicately sensuous style, seems to show the influence of Tennyson : — . . . The bride Stood in the blush that from her burning cheek Glowed down the alabaster neck, as morn Crimsons the pearly heaven half-way to the west. At once the harpers struck their chords ; a gush Of music broke upon the air; the youths All started to the dance. Among them moved The queenly Sella with a grace that seemed Caught from the swaying of the summer sea. H8 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 tc 1870. original; yet on the whole it is probably the best ren- dering of Homer into English verse. Bryant's range was narrow, and even within it his really good work is small in amount. But his best poems have enduring value. His style is pure, terse, and strong. His verse has little elasticity and no magic, but is always correct and sometimes richly musical. His imagination was a bird of strong wing for short flights. He had no dramatic sense, little humor, and no intensity or warmth of passion. There was in him a good deal of the Puritan sternness and inflexibility; he lacked imaginative mobility and the grace of sympathy. But he had the Puritan virtues, too, for they were in his blood and had been nourished by the moral and religious atmosphere of a typical New England home. 1 Truth, justice, purity, reverence were the air in which his spirit lived, without which it would stifle; and these high qualities pervade his poetry and make it tonic. The wind that blows through it, though cold, is bracing. And his sternness is the sternness of granite — good to build upon. His name will endure as that of the poet who first gave large utterance to the voice of Nature in the New World. Several minor writers resident in the city or state of New York, belonging to a somewhat latei day than those already mentioned, must be spoken of briefly before taking leave of the New York group. Herman Melville 1 Speaking of his mother, Bryant says : " If in the discussion of pub- lic questions, I have . . . endeavored to keep in view the great rule of right without much regard to persons, it has been owing in a good degree to the force of her example, which taught me never to counte- nance a wrong because others did." — Godwin's life of Bryant, Vol. I M p. 4. OTHER WRITERS. 149 (1819-1891) wrote Typee (1846), a narrative of his life among cannibals in the South Seas; Moby Dick (1851), and other novels; The Piazza Tales (1856) ; Battle-Pieces (1866) and other poems and prose works; all showing much strength and talent. The Poems (1845) of William W. Lord (18 19-1907) have facility and sweet- ness, the influence of Coleridge and Keats being apparent in them; Christ in Hades (1851), in Miltonic blank verse, is heavy and obscure; but Andre (1856), a tragedy, has much nobility of tone. William R. Wallace (1819- 188 1), whose earlier poems — The Battle of Tippecanoe (1837), Alban the Pirate (1848) — were modelled upon Scott and Byron, while his later — Meditations in America (185 1), etc. — are often Tennysonian, is now remem- bered only by his song, The Sword of Bunker Hill (1861). John G. Saxe (1816-1887) was Hood's worthy successor in the knack of punning in verse; his humorous poems, as The Proud Miss Macbride (in Poems, 1850), and The Masquerade (1866), often have a moral under the fun; his more serious poems — Progress (1846), a satire; The Money- King (1854); Clever Stories of Many Nations (1865); Leisure-Day Rhymes (1875), etc. — are bright and clever; but all his work is superficial, greatly inferior to that of Holmes in penetrating sparkle. Wil- liam A. Butler (1825-1902) published novels and Poems (187 1), but his literary wardrobe is now practically reduced to Nothing to Wear (1857), an amusing satire on women of fashion. Alice Cary (1820-187 1) was born in Ohio, but with her sister Phcebe, whose gifts were much more commonplace, removed to New York in 1852. 1 She lives chiefly by her poems of personal 1 The sisters jointly published Poems, 1850. Alice published Clover' ISO THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. feeling, which at their best are sweetly lyrical, full of bright fancy, beautiful diction, and delicate observation of nature, resembling the verse of Keats and Tennyson. Her ballads and other verses for children, though often moral in intent, are playful. Her religious poems are at once devout and beautiful. Alice Cary's poetical vein was slender, but it was pure gold. The continued literary sterility of the South is at first sight surprising. Intellect was not lacking — a glance at the history of the country is enough to prove that. Edu- cation and a certain sort of literary culture were not wanting among the upper class ; there were good private schools, and the eldest sons of the rich planters com- monly received a university education at the North or in England. Poetic passion and sense for beauty are native to the Southern blood and the Southern sky ; while the existence of a leisure class and of a picturesque social order directly favored literary productiveness. If thjs were the whole picture, it might naturally have been expected that the sunny South, settled by the song-loving Cavalier, would have become the cradle of American art, the Italy of the New World. But it was not so. Great generals, wise statesmen, brilliant orators she has given us, but our most famous poets and romancers have nearly all been natives of the North. The explanation, after all, lies on the surface. Down to the time of the Civil War the Southern people, to use the words of a recent South- ern writer, 1 "were living a primitive life, a life full of nook, 1852-1853, two series of prose sketches; Hagar, 1852, a story; Pictures of Country Life, 1859; Ballads, Lyrics, and Hymns, 1866; A Lover s Diary, 1867, a poem ; etc. i W. P. Trent, in his life of VV. G. Simms, p. 31. THE SOUTHERN SCHOOL. 151 survivals. " They were " descendants, in the main, of that ' portion of the English people who . . . had been least modernized, who still retained a large element of the feudal notions.' . . . Slavery helped feudalism, and feudalism helped slavery ; and the Southern people were largely the outcome of the interaction of these two for- mative principles." Similarly, another Southern writer 1 says : " The South changed far less after its separation from Great Britain than did the North. . . . Assuming provincialism to be ... ' localism, or being on one side and apart from the general movement of contemporary life/ the South was provincial. . . . The world was moving with quicker strides than the Southern planter knew, and slavery was banishing from his land all the elements of that life which was keeping stride with prog- ress without." The literary life lagged behind with the rest. The Southern feudal aristocrat took naturally to hunting, horse-racing, law, and politics. Literature he looked upon " as the choice recreation of gentlemen, as something fair- and good, to be courted in a dainty, ama- teur fashion " ; 2 but as for making a profession of it, the average Southern gentleman before the war would have endorsed the advice given to a promising Southern poet by one of his neighbors : " I wouldn't waste time on a thing like poetry ; you might make yourself, with all your sense and judgment, a useful man in settling neighborhood disputes and difficulties." 3 The upper class was thus not of the temper to foster the growth of 1 Thomas Nelson Page, in The Old South, pp. 24, 25. 2 Paul H. Hayne, the Southern poet, as quoted in Trent's life of Simms, p. 25. 3 The Old South, p. 71. The poet was Philip P. Cooke, who had just become known as the author of that beautiful lyric, Florence Vane, 152 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. a native literature, and there was no other that could do it. The Southern aristocrat's "power as a landed and slave proprietor drove out the small yeoman, cowed the tradesman and the mechanic, and deprived the South of that most necessary factor in the development of national greatness, a thrifty middle class." 1 The consequent lack of great centres of population, the fewness and poorness of the common schools, the absence of a large reading public — social phenomena all traceable ultimately to the South's inherited curses of feudal conservatism and Afri- can slavery — tended powerfully to prevent the develop- ment of a literary class by making it almost impossible for men of letters to gain a hearing or a living. But the literature of the Southern School, although scant in amount, is, at its best, of fine quality; and the writers have more in common than those of New York. The cavalier blood, the aristocratic structure of society, the semi-tropical climate, all tell in the literature, which has more local pride, more passion and color, more love of beauty for its own sake. William Crafts (1 787-1826), of South Carolina, a graduate of Harvard, a state legislator and eminent lawyer, had during his lifetime a reputation for brilliancy as orator, essayist, and poet; his Miscellaneous Writings (1828) do not bear it out, but he is an interesting figure as a literary pioneer. Richard H. Wilde (1 789-1 847), a Georgia congressman and state attorney-general, is known chiefly by his song, My Life is Like the Summer Rose ; but he was also a good Italian scholar; and his Hesperia (1867), a poem much in the manner of Childe Harold, describes American scenes with a good deal of vigor 1 W. P. Trent, in his life of Simms, p. 39. THE SOUTHERN WRITERS. 153 and poetic glamour. The Poems (1825) of Edward C. Pinkney (1802-1828), of Maryland, contain some grace- ful lyrics in the manner of Moore; The Indian's Bride idealizes Indian life in the conventional way but rather prettily; Rodolph shows the influence of Scott and Byron. George H. Calvert (1803-1889), great-grand- son of the founder of Maryland, wrote much — too much — in verse of varied kinds but uniform quality. Philip P. Cooke (1816-1850), of Virginia, in Froissart Ballads and Other Poems (1847) shows much freshness and brightness; the ballads reproduce well the spirit of the old days of chivalry, and have something of Chaucer's naive blitheness; the nature poems are re- freshing by their breezy atmosphere and manly love of outdoor sports; his best-known poem, the Tennysonian lyric, Florence Vane, is delicate and sad. Orta-Undis, and Other Poems (1848), by James M. Legare (1823- 1859), of South Carolina, has French lightness of touch and grace of sentiment. The South Carolinian, Henry B. Timrod (1829-1867), a poet of what Mr. Stedman calls "the artistic and cosmopolitan type," wrote pretty sonnets, and, in general, his Poems (i860) contains finished and delicate work. Of the same type were the poems, never collected, of John R. Thompson (1823- 1873), a Virginian, for twelve years editor of The Southern Literary Messenger. Paul H. Hayne (1830- 1886), of South Carolina, showed his artistic tempera- ment and warm Southern blood in his sensuous poems and sonorous odes; The Temptation of Venus (in Poems, 1855) has passages of voluptuous beauty, and The Island in the South (in Avolio, with Poe?ns, 1859) expresses a Vove for the natural, passionate life; later works are 154 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. Legends and Lyrics (1872) and The Mountain of tht Lovers (1875). John P. Kennedy (1 795-1870), con- gressman from Maryland, and Secretary of the Navy in 1 85 2-1 85 3, wrote novels that were once popular. Horse- Shoe Robinson (1835), his best work, a story of the Revolution, contains much exciting action, ending with the battle of King's Mountain; the picture of Marion's swamp-camp at night is graphic; but the original, shrewd character of "Horse-Shoe" and the narrative of his daring exploits are the best part of the book. William Gilmore Simms (1806-1870), of South Caro- lina, was a versatile and prolific author, 1 and, after Poe, the most considerable man of letters in the South. He experienced to the full the obstacles which Southern 1 Lyrical and Other Poems, 1827. Early Lays, 1827. The Vision of Cortes, Cain, and Other Poems, 1829. Atalantis, 1832. Martin Faber, 1833. The Book of My Lady, 1833. Guy Rivers, 1834. The Yemassee, 1835. The Partisan, 1835. Mellichampe, 1836. Pe- layo, 1838. Richard Hurdis, 1838. Carl Werner, 1838. Southern Passages and Pictures, 1839. The Damsel of Darien, 1839. Border Beagles, 1840. The History of South Carolina, 1840. The Kins- men, 1841. Confession, 1841. Beauchampe, 1842. Donna Florida, 1843. Castle Dismal, 1845. The Life of Francis Marion, 1845. Helen Halsey, 1845. Count Julian, 1845. Grouped Thoughts, a Col- lection of Sonnets, 1845. Views and Reviews, 1846 (imprint, 1845). The Wigwam and the Cabin, 1845-1846. Areytos; or, Songs of the South, 1846. The Life of Captain John Smith, 1846. The Life of Chevalier Bayard, 1847. Lays of the Palmetto, 1848. Atalantis (con- taining also The Eye and the Wing), 1848. The Life of Nathaniel Greene, 1849. Father Abbot, 1849. Sabbath Lyrics, 1849. The Cas- sique of Accabee, with other Pieces, 1849. The City of the Silent, 1850. The Lily and the Totem, 1850. Norman Maurice, 1851. Katharine Walton, 1851. Michael Bonham (drama), 1852. The Sword and the Distaff, 1852. Marie de Berniere, 1853. Poems (2 vols.), 1853. Vas- conselos, 1854. The Forayers, 1855. Eutaw, 1856. Charlemont, 1856. The Cassique of Kiawah, 1859. Benedict Arnold, a Dramatic Essay, I863. Etc., etc. WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS. 155 society at that time opposed to the literary life ; but his strong natural bent toward letters * and the resolution of his character (at maturity he had the look of a lion) triumphed over all the difficulties which could be con- quered by individual effort. Belonging to the poorer class, he had scant and wretched school instruction. The Charleston library, however, was open to him ; and his grandmother, with whom he lived for many years, fired his boyish imagination with old tales of superstition and stories of the Revolution. When his father returned from several years' residence in the wilds of Mississippi, he increased the future romancer's stock in trade by thrilling descriptions of rough border life and of Indian warfare. Simms early began to write and publish ; meet- ing with some success, he boldly gave himself to liter- ature, pouring forth poems, novels, histories, and biographies with amazing rapidity, editing the Charleston Gazette, and struggling heroically at various times to keep several ill-starred magazines afloat. His poetry displays much talent and facility. The earlier vol- umes, consisting mostly of poems on love, nature, and Indian life, and imitative of Byron and Moore, are inferior. Atalantis, an ambitious poem of fancy, in dramatic form, the main elements apparently sug- gested by The Tempest, Comus, and Prometheus Un- bound, is written in light blank verse, and some of the songs are pretty. Donna Florida, an avowed attempt to imitate the wit of Don Juan without its indecency, amusingly pictures the aged Ponce de Leon's courtship 1 To hide the light from his vigilant grandmother, who did not ap- prove of late hours, the boy would read in his room with candle and bead inside a box. 156 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. of a saucy young beauty; 1 the description of the fight with the Florida Indians is spirited. Songs and Ballads have music, warmth, local color, and love for the " sunny South." The Cassique of Ac cab ee is an interesting and pathetic tale of an Indian chief's love for a white girl. Nor7?ian Mau7'ice is a bold attempt to write a tragedy on a subject from contemporary American life. The scene is Philadelphia and Missouri; Maurice, a young lawyer and senator-elect, is in danger of ruin by the plots of his enemy; his wife stabs the plotter, to get the seem- ingly incriminating papers, and is killed by the shock to her moral nature. The style is rather oratorical, and the general effect crude. Much of Simms's best poetry is in the collection of 1853; the tales make interesting and poetic use of local traditions and scenery; The Shaded Water is a quietly beautiful nature poem; Summer in the South has flush; in Bertram and The Death of Cleo- patra, which were perhaps influenced by Landor's Imaginary Conversations, are excellent style and some true dramatic feeling; several versified Bible stories reflect, like Willis's languidly pious wares, the taste of the times. Simms's poetry, as a whole, lacks concentra- tion and perfection of form. His novels have been more widely read, but they also bear marks of haste. His models were Scott and Cooper, and occasionally Godwin 1 Leonora's song to her tedious wooer is tricksy : — Old men yo^ng maids pursuing, How little do they guess, That every hour of wooing, But makes their chances less. . . . Love hath no long discourses, A single smile, a sigh, These are the sovereign forces, That give him victory. — Canto II., after stanza 35. JOHN ESTEN COOKE. 157 and Brown; but the subject-matter was fresh. In the so-called "border romances," the crudest of his stories, rough life in the Southwestern states is described with much vigor and rush. His best novels, as The Partisan, The Kinsmen, and Katharine Walton, handle themes from Southern history in the stirring times of the Revolution; and the pictures of Southern life and so- ciety, and the narratives of historical or semi-historical events, are still interesting. Like Cooper, however, Simms often loiters by the way to talk when he should be in the saddle; his humor is sometimes tedious; his love scenes are comparatively insipid; and his heroes and heroines are, in general, less individual and inter- esting than the characters from common life, although he succeeds in giving rather vivid impressions of the beauty and spirit of high-bred Southern women. But in scenes of action, as in the attack upon the Middleton man- sion in The Kinsmen, the narrative is often rapid and powerful, holding the attention and stirring the blood. Simms had talent and industry enough. What he needed, in order to reach that slightly higher level which ensures permanence of fame, was brilliancy, a severer standard of workmanship, and a more favorable literary environment. 1 John Esten Cooke (1 830-1 886), of Virginia, wrote several novels 2 of much the same general character as 1 In the years 1835-1846 seven of the novels were reprinted in Eng- land ; and The Wigwam and Cabin, a collection of tales, was translated into German in 1846. 2 Leather Stocking and Silk, a Story of the Valley of Virginia, 1854. The Virginia Comedians; or, Days in the Old Dominion, 1854. Henry St. John, Gentleman, a Tale of 1774-1775, 1859. Surrey of Eagle's Nest, 1866. Fairfax, 1868. Hilt to Hilt, 1869. Hammer and Rapier, 1870. The Virginia Bohemians, 1880. My Lady Pokahontas, 1885. 158 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. those by Simms. His analysis of character was much keener and deeper, however, and his gift of humor greater, and there is more passion and poetry in his style. He reminds one of Thackeray, at times, by his easy familiarity with good society and by a suggestion of reserve power. The Virginia Comedians, perhaps his best novel, gives vivid and brilliantly colored pictures of life in the Old Dominion in 1763 and 1765; but the attempt to introduce Patrick Henry is a flat failure, leading to nothing but tiresome political conversations and sophomoric declamation. The life of * Edgar Allan Poe 1 is the saddest in 1 LIFE. Born in Boston, Jan. 19, 1809. Father an actor ; mother an English actress. After his mother's death in 1811, adopted by John Allan of Richmond ; 1815-1820, at Manor House School, near London ; 1820- 1825, at school in Richmond ; Feb. 14, 1826, matriculated in University of Virginia ; because of gambling debts, withdrawn in December and placed in his guardian's counting-room. Wandered to Boston ; served m the army, 1827-1829; admitted to West Point, July 1, 1830; Mar. 6, 1831, discharged. In Baltimore, writing for magazines, 1831-1835. In Rich- mond, editor of The Southern Literary Messenger, 1835-1837 ; probably married secretly to his cousin, Virginia Clemm, thirteen years old, at Baltimore, 1835 ; publicly married, 1836. In New York, writing, 1837- 1838. In Philadelphia, 1838-1844: associate editor of Burtons Gentle- ?nan's Magazine, 1839-1840 ; editor of Graham's Magazine, 1841-1842. In New York, 1844-1849 (living at Fordham, in the environs, after 1845): " paragraphist " for The Evening Mirror, 1 844-1 845 ; co-editor, editor, and owner of The Broadway Journal, 1845 ; wife died, Jan. 30, 1847 ; conditionally accepted by Mrs. Sarah Whitman, November, 1848 ; rejected for intemperance, December, 1848. To Richmond, July, 1849; apparently engaged to Mrs. Sarah Skelton in September; died in Baltimore, Oct. 7, 1849. Works. Tamerlane and Other Poems, 1827. Al Aaraaf, Tamerlane, and Minor Poems, 1829. Poems, 1831. The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, 1838. Tales of the Grotesque and Arabesque, 1840. Tales, 1845. The Raven, in the New York Evening Mirror, Jan. 29, 1845. The Raven and Other Poems, 1845. Eureka : a Prose Poem, 1848. Annabel Lee, in The New York Tribune soon after Poe's death. The Bells, in Sartains Magazine, November, 1849. On Critics and Criticism, in Graham's Magazine, January, 1850. The Poetic Principle^ EDGAR ALLAN POE. 159 the annals of American men of letters. His father seems to have been rather a worthless fellow; but his grandfather, General David Poe of Baltimore, was a man of high character. From his mother, an actress of some ability and the daughter of a talented actress, Poe inherited his artistic temperament. The beautiful, pre- cocious boy soon became a pet in the home of his fos- ter parents, the Allans, where he was surrounded by luxury and by the best Virginian society. His five years' residence in England, in the midst of old build- ings and memories of departed greatness, doubtless did yet more to develop his dreamy love of beauty. Yet in some respects his early training was peculiarly unfortu- nate. Imperious, wilful, proud, and shy, he needed firm discipline and love; he got indulgence and mere kindness. At school he was a swift runner and bold swimmer, a brilliant though inaccurate scholar; but he was not thoroughly liked, and in boyhood, as in man- hood, stood aloof in proud loneliness. At the Univer- sity of Virginia there is no evidence that he drank or gambled more than was common among young Virginian bloods in those days; at all events, he came home at the end of the term with first honors in Latin and French. But his foster-father, over-indulgent to the boy, went to the other extreme with the young man. Poe of course rebelled, and wandered off to shift for himself. Find- ing that one could not live by the sale of poetry, even in Boston, he enlisted as a private in the army. A partial reconciliation with Mr. Allan resulted in his release and Ais admission to West Point Military Academy. His in Sartairis Magazine, October, 1850. Most of Poe's criticisms, tales and poems appeared first in periodicals. 160 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. scholarship there was high, and his discharge was due merely to neglect of the distasteful military routine. Poe's life was henceforth a struggle with poverty. In 1833 he had sunk to great destitution, when, by his AfS. Found in a Bottle, he won a prize of one hundred dollars offered by the Baltimore Saturday Visiter ; later he found some hack-work to do, and sold a few stories. It was during this period of obscurity and want in Bal^ timore, while he was residing with his father's sister, Mrs. Clemm, and her daughter Virginia, that there came into his life that love which almost to the end of his days burned bright and beautiful there amid the sur- rounding gloom. Unfortunately, at this time also he became a slave to drugs and liquor. At Richmond, whither he removed as editor of The Southern Literary Messenger, all went well for a while. Under his conduct the magazine sprang into sudden prominence; and his salary, at first only ten dollars a week, was raised to eight hundred dollars a year, with a prospect of further increase. But the unfortunate man carried within him- self his own ruin. At times he would drink till his senses were lost; and his employer, who was also his true friend, at last had to let him go. In Philadelphia and New York it was the same story over again, year after year: he easily got situations, but soon lost or re- signed them. At irregular intervals he was made incapa- ble of work by indulgence in alcohol and opium: he was constitutionally restless, irritable, imperious, and hard to get along with, yet was pitiably weak, sometimes im- ploring his friends to save him from himself: he was not always truthful; he quarrelled easily with old friends, and thereupon seemed to feel released from all sense of EDGAR ALLAN POE. 161 gratitude for past benefactions. 1 But he also had many fine qualities. In his ordinary deportment he was very quiet and gentlemanly, 2 and he was capable of rare lov- ableness and charm. His home life in the tiny rose- covered cottage on the outskirts of Philadelphia, and in the retreat at Fordham, with its surrounding cherry trees and glimpse of the distant sea, was almost idyllic in the happier days, when the childlike wife sang to the harp in a voice of wonderful sweetness, the melancholy poet hanging over her fragile form as if he momently feared to lose her, while the good Mrs. Clemm looked on with motherly love for both. Occasionally, in New York, he went to literary receptions, where, "dressed in plain black, but with the head, the broad, retreating white brow, the large, luminous, piercing eyes, the im- passive lips, that gave the visible character of genius to his features/' he would, "in his ordinary, subdued, musical tones, exercise the fascination of his talk." 3 He had "a peculiar and irresistible charm" for women, whom he addressed with a " chivalric, graceful, almost 1 Poe's first biographer, Griswold, perhaps painted the picture blacker than it was ; but the amiable Ingram liberally applied whitewash. The evidence for the above view of the poet's character may be found in Woodberry's life of Poe, in the biographical sketch in Stedman and Woodberry's edition of Poe, and in Poe's letters (with Professor Wood- berry's comments) in The Century Magazine, August, September, Octo- ber, 1894. 2 " He impressed me as a refined and very gentlemanly man, exceed- ingly neat in his person. . . . His manner was quiet and reserved ; he rarely smiled. . . . The form of his manuscript was peculiar ; he wrote on half-sheets of note-paper, which he pasted together at the ends, making one continuous piece. As he read he dropped it upon the floor. It was very neatly written, and without corrections, apparently." »— Letter by Mr. Darley, with whom Poe had pleasant relations ; in Woodberry, p. 181. 8 Professor Woodberry, in his life of Poe, p. 258. M 162 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. tender reverence. nl But at times the destitution of the poet and his family was pitiful. 2 During Virginia's last illness, a visitor found her lying on a straw bed, "wrapped in her husband's great-coat, with a large tor- toise-shell cat in her bosom; . . . 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." 3 It is some alleviation to know that aid was promptly rendered, and that the last weeks of the uncomplaining little wife were made as comfortable as they could be. After her death, Poe had brain fever; friends raised money for his support. He recovered after a while, and did some writing and lecturing. But he was a good deal broken, and often half insane. He felt pitifully the need of help, now that Virginia was gone, and sought it in Platonic friendship with "Annie " and in the love of Mrs. Whitman, a poetess. His final "descent into the maelstrom " was swift and fearful. In the summer of 1849, on hi s wav to Richmond, — whither he went hoping to realize his long-cherished plan of starting a magazine of his own, — he had a severe attack of de- lirium tremens, in Philadelphia. At Richmond he was twice seriously ill from intemperance. Yet he spent several happy weeks among old friends; and when he 1 Mrs. Francis S. Osgood, as quoted in Woodberry, p. 263. 2 In a charming, chatty letter to Mrs. Clemm, written just after he and Virginia had removed to New York, he says, " We have now got four dollars and a half left. To-morrow I am going to try and borrow three dollars, so that I may have a fortnight to go upon. I feel in ex- cellent spirits, and haven't drank a drop — so that I hope soon to get out of trouble. . . . You can't imagine how much we both do miss you. Sissy [Virginia] had a hearty cry last night because you and Catterina [the cat] weren't here." — Woodberry, p. 204. ■ Woodberry, p. 274. EDGAR ALLAN POE. 163 went North, in the falL it was for the purpose of bring- ing Mrs. Clemm back to Richmond, where he hoped soon to marry a rich widow, who had been his love in youth. Just what happened to him in Baltimore, where he stopped on the way, is uncertain. But he was rescued from a rumshop by an old friend, and taken, unconscious, to the city hospital, where, four days later, he died in extreme misery. In Poe the artist, were two men — a man of analytic intellect and a man of poetic imagination. This fact will furnish the point of view in our rapid survey of his writings. Poe's criticisms of contemporary authors are of little interest now, dealing mostly with forgotten nobodies and the details of technique. 1 But The Rationale of Verse, coming from so great an artist, is valuable ; and the lecture on The Poetic Principle, in which poetry is defined as "the rhythmic creation of beauty," was a wholesome antidote to the prevailing didacticism in New England conceptions of art. 2 His most ambitious intellectual flight was Eureka, an essay on the mate- rial and spiritual universe, which is ingenious and 1 In their day they did some service to American letters by their keen and fearless attacks upon complacent mediocrity. Poe's severity is, however, commonly exaggerated. He often praised too highly ; and he was quick to recognize real merit, assigning a high place to Bryant and the newcomers Longfellow and Lowell — in spite of his persistent charges of plagiarism against Longfellow, culminating in the " Long- fellow war" in 1845, and his bitter review of A Fable for Critics, after Lowell had drawn off from him. 2 Poe's analytic power was manifested more fully by his demonstra- tion that Maelzel's automatic chess-player was operated by a concealed man; by his deciphering all the cryptograms sent to The Southern Literary Messenger in response to his challenge; and by his famous anticipation of the plot of Barnaby Nudge after a few chapters had tppeared. 1 64 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. brilliant, but unsubstantial, fallacious, and sometimes ignorant. 1 In the Tales of Ratiocination — The Murders in the Rue Morgue, The Mystery of Marie Roget, The Pur- loined Letter, The Gold Bug, etc. — analytic reason is so brilliantly employed that Poe has been called the "potential prince of detectives." In the Tales of Pseudo-Science, also, intellect predominates. The Ad- venture of One Hans Pfaal and The Balloon Hoax are worked out with great realistic detail and display of science, but they do not allow of the higher imagination. A Descent into the Maelstrom is more poetical, and the scientific part blends perfectly with the poetic; we read eagerly about the law governing the velocity of bodies in water, because on it hangs the safety of a human life, and to the sigh of relief when the awful vortex is cheated of its prey there is added the pleasure of pride in the conquering intellect of puny man. The latter part of Arthur Gordon Pym, Poe's one long tale, with its pic- tures of the milky Antarctic Ocean and the gigantic mist- curtain " ranged along the whole extent of the southern horizon," is poetically imaginative. The Facts in the Case of M. Valdemar, however, is chiefly intellectual, and ends with a profitless and fearfully repulsive descrip- tion of the physical corruption of death; while Mesmeric Revelation contains some of the ideas about matter and spirit which were afterward elaborated in Eureka. Tales of Adventure and Horror — MS. Found in a Bottle, The Pit and the Pe?idulu?n, the larger part of 1 See Woodberry, pp. 285-301. Poe had a smattering of many subjects, and great cleverness in making a show of learning ; see Wood- berry, pp. 51, 96, 105, etc. EDGAR ALLAN POE. 165 Arthur Gordon Pym, etc. — have relatively more of the imaginative and supernatural and less of the intellectual. In Tales of Conscience — William Wilson, The Black Cat, The Tell- Tale Heart, etc. — narrative is subor- dinate, terror is supreme, and it is the terror of conscience. But the moral aspect of conscience is practically nothing, the imaginative and psychological almost everything; the conscience itself, by poetic symbolism, is represented by something external — Wilson's double, the dead man's beating heart, the black cat with its one flaming red eye, — and at the climax the interest is not in the sin but in the imagi- native situation, the madness, the horror. The theme of deepest and most permanent fascination for Poe was death; and in the Romances of Death he approached it from many points of view and in many moods. The Assignation surrounds death with all the luxury of Old World wealth and beauty, and with the glamour of intel- lect, genius, and proud, calm will. The Masque of the Red Death is a magnificent symphony of color and grouping, whose theme is death triumphant over arrogant and selfish greatness. Eleanora is a melody of ideal love, which not even ugly death can wholly rob of its ineffable beauty. The Fall of the House of Usher is a prose poem of imaginative fear connected with death and plunging at last into black depths of madness and annihilation. 1 In Ligeia, splendidly terrible, hung round like the bridal chamber with rich, fantastic tap- 1 In this tale Poe's art of symbolizing the inner by the outer, fusing the two into a wonderful harmony without violating the individuality of either, reaches perfection ; as does also his genius for unifying details, often the merest touches, into one central effect of piercing intensity. 166 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. estries oi golden gloom, death is temporarily conquered on earth by the agonizing might of a divine woman's will. 1 In Monos and Una and Eiron and Charmion the eternal victory of the soul, rising into pure celestial re- gions above the wreck of matter, is portrayed with ethe- reality if with less of spectacular splendor. The Sketches of Natural Beauty — The Island of the Fay, Lander's Cottage , The Domain of Arnheim — are almost pure poetry in their calm loveliness. The last-named reveals, in unequalled degree, Poe's oriental riot in the prodigal massing of all that might ravish the senses with voluptuous pleasure, yet convey to the soul, through the subtle channels of the imagination, a delight still more entrancing. 2 Poe's poetry has much in common with his prose. Even his analytic and synthetic intellect appears in a few poems by its results, — preeminently in The Raven, which has more of clever mechanism and less of the finer spirit of poetry than several of the less popular poems; 3 The Bells is yet more mechanical, although a very skilful example of onomatopoeia of the obvious kind. The gloomy hero, devoted to recondite 1 Berenice was a fore-study for the House of Usher ; Morella, for Ligeia. 2 In the above survey, the classification in Stedman and Woodberry's edition of Poe has been followed, but with some material modifications. The tales there included under " Extravaganza and Caprice," where come most of Poe's awkward attempts at humor, are too inferior for consideration here. 8 Poe's account, in The Philosophy of Co?nposition, of the manufacture of the poem is doubtless more than half fiction (see Stedman and Woodberry's edition of Poe, Vol. X., for other reports of the mode of its composition) ; but however spontaneous the main conception may have been, the elaboration of it bears as evident marks of intellectual design as the most cleverly contrived of the tales. EDGAR ALLAN POE. 167 studies and a prey to melancholy, is a familiar figure in both the prose and the verse. And death, with its sorrow and gloom, is the favorite theme of the poet as of the romancer. The two distinctive characteristics of Poe's poetry are its mysticism and its music. Poe believed that, far above this low world, is Eternal Beauty; that through art we get "brief and indeterminate glimpses " of the "Supernal Loveliness ";* that music is the most effective means of producing that " elevating excitement of the soul" 1 which yields these mystical glimpses into a higher world; and, consequently, that "the vagueness of exaltation aroused by a sweet air (which should be strictly indefinite and never too strongly suggestive) is precisely what we should aim at in poetry." 2 This conception of a supernal world of perfect and eternal beauty is the main inspiration of Israfel and Dreamland ; flickers vaguely through At Aaraaf, which it feebly rescues from absolute inanity and sensuous chaos; and underlies many other of the poems. The purpose rather to produce moods, to exalt the soul by beauty, than to convey ideas, led Poe to cultivate the purely musical side of verse and to employ much symbolism, sometimes very vague. This tendency reached its extreme in Ulalume, isolated lines of which are undeniably ludicrous; but the poem as a whole does express with weird power a weird mood, in which the soul, numb with grief, enveloped in a haze of vaguely sad forgetfulness, floats on with the aimless, mazy, backward-revolving movement of a troubled dream, until it suddenly awakes to acute anguish ia some "ghoul- 1 The Poetic Principle. 2 Letter to Lowell, in Woodberry, p. 213. 1 68 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. haunted woodland." The desire to produce the brood- ing effect of dreamy moods was doubtless the reason why Poe used the refrain, the repetend, and the parenthetical phrase so freely; and whatever may be thought of the result in Ulalume, elsewhere his success is beyond cavil. Symbolism is used superbly in *The Conqueror Worm and The Haunted Palace, — the one more stark and sar- donic and having a larger stage, but the other more piti- ful and intensely terrible, unequalled in verse as a picture of the ruin of a soul by madness. In The Haunted Palace also occur snatches of that magical melody to which Poe, alone of American poets, has ever attained : — Banners yellow, glorious, golden, On its roof did float and flow, (This — all this — was in the olden Time long ago) ; And every gentle air that dallied, In that sweet day, Along the ramparts plumed and pallid, A winged odor went away. 1 Poe has been accused of plagiarism; but in his best work he was emphatically original, — no man more so. In fact, the difficulty is to find sufficient antecedents for him. In poetry he was clearly influenced by Byron, Coleridge, Shelley, and Keats; yet, except in a few 1 In The City in the Sea are a few lines perhaps even more full of witchery; and the very soul of Israfel is embodied in its versification, which has in places the upspringing lightness of a bird. In the above attempt to point out the inter-relations of the criticisms, tales, and poems, no regard has been had to chronological sequence; but in a general way the tendency was from poetry to intellect, the year 1840 being approximately the water-shed. EDGAR ALLAN POE. 169 juvenilia, his music and style are as individual as theirs. 1 His tales show some indebtedness, in subjects and gen- eral method, to Charles Brockden Brown, the English school of terror and mystery, and the German senti- mentalists and romancers. 2 In the arts of unity, con- densation, and clearness, he was evidently helped by his intimate knowledge of French literature. 3 And his style, in addition to Gallic finish and celerity, has, when occasion calls, a sweet melancholy, an elaborate ornate- ness, an impassioned and complex harmony, which remind one of The English Mail- Coach and Our Ladies of Sorrow. To his American environment, Poe cer- tainly owed nothing but poverty and fetters. But, in spite of all, he managed to produce a few poems and tales which are perfect of their kind and greatly raised the standard of art in American literature. There is no need to dwell upon the obvious limitations of his work — its lack of mental breadth, of moral and spiritual significance, of wholesome humanity. Poe was 1 Of Annabel Lee Mr. Stedman says, " The refrain and measure . . . suggest a reversion, in the music-haunted brain of its author, to the songs and melodies that are . . . favorites of the colored race." — Intro- duction to the Poems, in Stedman and Woodberry's edition of Poe, Vol. X. The germ of the metrical movement of Ulalume may perhaps be felt in the song which closes Scene 4, Act II., of Prometheus Un- bound. Lady Geraldine's Courtship, by Mrs. Browning (whom Poe greatly admired) , apparently suggested the metre of The Raven, and a phrase or two in it besides. 2 Stedman has pointed out certain striking resemblances between Poe's work and that of Ernst Hoffmann (1776-1822) ; see his Intro- duction to the Tales in Stedman and Woodberry's edition of Poe, Vol. I. 3 During Poe's lifetime the French mind began to recognize the affinity between his genius and its own. Baudelaire translated his tales with remarkable imaginative sympathy ; and they have been widely read, especially ;ft France and Spain. 170 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. no sun shedding its genial beams broadcast over the earth; but he was at least an arc-light shining brilliantly, and picturesquely heightening the shadows, in the Place of Tombs. In spite of some limitations as compared with the Southern and the Middle States, New England on the whole maintained her intellectual and literary preemi- nence, Massachusetts in particular being prolific of poets, essayists, and writers of novels. Of the minor authors many were deservedly popular in their day; but a bird's-eye view of them is all that is possible here. Richard H. Dana (1787-1879), a Boston lawyer and politician, associate editor of The North American Revieiv in 18 18-1820, wrote better prose than verse. The Buccaneer (1827) is based on a finely poetical sea-superstition, but is awkwardly told; all his poems seem manufactured, and most are dull. His reviews of Brown, Irving, and others, in The North A??ierican, are sensible, and the style is clear and strong. The tales, Tom Thornton and Paul Felton (in his periodical, The Idle Man, 1821-1822), have considerable power, although the didacticism of the first is too obvious and the second is a rather violent imitation of Brown. The hymns of John Pierpont (1785-1866), a Boston Uni- tarian clergyman and ardent abolitionist, have merit, and his Anti-Slavery Poems (1843) are not an d strong. Charles Sprague (1791-1825), a Boston bank cashier, was a facile "occasional" poet, winning several prizes for prologues and sounding odes; one passage from his flowery oration on American Independence (1825), re- ferring to the time when u the rank thistle nodded in the MINOR AUTHORS. 171 wind/' still lingers in the memories of grown-up school- boys. A man of more native literary gift was James A. Hillhouse ( 1 789-1841), a retired Connecticut merchant, whose Dramas, Discourses, and Other Pieces (1839) exhibit taste and skill; Demetria in particular, a tragedy of love, jealousy, poison, and death in old Florence, although the characterization is weak has easy blank verse and finish and purity of style, with now and then a striking phrase. Lydia H. Sigourney (1791- 1865), long resident in Hartford, by her all too numer- ous moral and sentimental works in verse and prose {Moral Pieces, 18 15; Letters to Young Ladies, 1833; The Weeping Willow, 1847; Lays of the Heart, 1848; Whisper to a Bride, 1850; etc.) obtained the coveted title of "the American Mrs. Hemans"; she is still use- ful as an index to the taste of the times, which left its impress upon greater writers as well, and helps to explain some of their artistic shortcomings. John Neal (1793- 1876), a native of Maine, whose The Battle of Niagara was mentioned on an earlier page, threw himself, with like impetuosity and buoyant egotism, into journalism, literary criticism, the composition of dramas, and novel- writing; his novels {Keep Cool, 181 7; Seventy-Six, 1823; Brother Jonathan, 1825; etc.) met with some success, but, like all his work, lack finish and repose, and have passed away. The works of three female novelists have pretty much shared the same fate. Maria G. Brooks (1795-1845), wife of a Boston merchant, in her semi -autobiographical tale, Idomen, or the Vale of Yumuri (1843), was the first American to describe suc- cessfully the climate of Cuba and the sensuous luxury of Cuban life. Her poems — Judith, Esther, and Other 172 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. Poems (1820) and Zophiel, or the Bride of Seven (1833), the latter on the model of Moore and Southey — show the same love of sensuous beauty. 1 Catharine M. Sedgwick (1 789-1867), for half a century principal of a young ladies' school at Stockbridge, Mass., wrote many novels, naturally of a paler hue, including A New Eng- land Tale (1822), Redwood (1824), Hope Leslie, or Early Times in the Massachusetts (1827), The Linwoods, or Sixty Years Since in A7?ierica 2 (1835), Married or Single? (1857), and many others. The novels of Lydia M. Child (1 802-1 880), of Massachusetts, which are also deficient in brilliancy and power, show the same trend toward subjects from American history; she was precocious, Hobomok: a Tale of Early Times, appearing in 182 1, and The Rebels (describing the sacking of Gov- ernor Hutchinson's house by a mob, and the Boston Massacre) in 1822. William Ware (1797-1852), a Mas- sachusetts clergyman, was a prolific writer, but is best known by his historical romances, Zenobia, or the Fall of Palmyra (1838) and Aurelian, or Rome in the Third Century (1848), in the form of letters by a Roman noble. James G. Percival (1795-1856), of Connecticut, had remarkable versatility, being surgeon in the army, professor of chemistry at West Point, geologist, reviser of Webster's Dictionary (he was acquainted with San- skrit, Basque, Gallic, Norse, Danish, Swedish, and Russian), and poet. Prometheus (1820) has the Byronic gloom, but in Clio (182 2- 1827) and The Poetical Works (1859) Shelley is the prevailing influence. Percival's 1 Southey, whom she met in 1831, admired her poetry and gave her the name of " Maria del Occidente." 2 Unfortunately its likeness to Waver ley is only title-deep. MINOR AUTHORS 173 poetry is often brilliant with delicate color and suffused with ideal beauty; but it is wanting in concentration and unity of effect, and, like so much good verse that has failed to live, reminds one of Browning's lines: — Oh, the little more, and how much it is ! And the little less, and what worlds away ! John G. C. Brainard (1 796-1828), another Connecti- cut poet, wrote of American scenery, history, and superstitions with considerable poetic feeling and some skill in expression. Albert G. Greene (1802-1868), a Providence lawyer, still lives in the death of "Old Grimes." 1 Emma H. Willard (1787-1870), who wrote Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep ; Samuel F. Smith (1808-1895), author of America (1832); Sarah H. Whitman (1803-1878), Poe's friend and defender, and a graceful versifier; George Lunt (1803-1285), who wrote light lyrics and pleasant nature poems; Frances S. Osgood (1811-1850), another of Poe's friends and a poetess of the prettily sentimental type; Albert Pike (1 809-1 891), whose once well-known Hymns to the Gods (1829, 1830, 1845) have much rhetorical ability; Epes Sargent (1813-1880), author of several novels and plays, but remembered now only by A Life on the Ocean Wave (in Songs of the Sea, 1847); and Longfellow's brother — Samuel Longfellow (1819-1892), — a Unita- rian clergyman, whose hymns and other religious poems are of singular purity and calm — can all receive but this passing glance. Sylvester Judd (1813-1853)^ Unita- 1 It would be inexcusable not to record gratefully, in passing, that Mr. Greene was the beginner of the Harris collection of American Poetry, which has been simply invaluable in the preparation of this book. 174 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. rian clergyman, faithfully described New England life and scenery in his novels, Margaret (1845) and Richard Edney (1850); he also wrote Philo (1850), a Unitarian epic. Richard H. Dana, Jr. (1815-1882), a Massa- chusetts lawyer, was the author of the famous Two Years before the Mast (1840), a book having the reality of personal experience and the interest of a romance. The continued popularity of Reveries of a Bachelor (1850) and Dream Life (1851), by Donald G. Mitchell (1822-1908), or "Ik Marvel," shows that some portion of Irving's spirit has descended upon him. Henry H. Brownell, U. S. N. (1820-1872), of Rhode Island and Connecticut, wrote War Lyrics and Other Poems (1866), including one of the best poems occasioned by the Civil War, The Bay Fight, a stirring and powerful description of the battle of Mobile Bay. Another war lyric, Battle Hymn of the Republic (1862), by Julia Ward Howe (1819-1910) has superb swing and exalted religious passion ; her other poems are commonplace. The most famous book occasioned by the conditions out of which the Civil War arose is Uncle Tom's Cabin (1851-1852), 1 by Harriet Beecher Stowe (181 2-1896), a native of Connecticut. The novel has grave literary blemishes, and as an interpretation of Southern life is very faulty. Nevertheless it has certain elements of greatness. It would be superfluous to praise the moral intensity, pathos, descriptive genius, and dramatic power of a book that stirred North and South to the depths; 1 It appeared first as a serial in the Washington National Era % June, 1851, to April, 1852. In five years half a million copies had been sold in the United States, and the sale in England was enormous. The book has been translated into several foreign languages. MINOR AUTHORS. 175 dramatized, was acted night after night before delighted audiences who would have mobbed an abolitionist ora- tor; set far-away Paris to weeping; and, after half a century, when the political issues that gave rise to it have become obsolete, still finds many readers of ma- ture years and holds countless boys and girls from play. Mrs. Stowe's numerous other books are practically for- gotten. The high promise of the novels Cecil Dreeme (1861) andjo/in Brent (1862), by Theodore Winthrop (1828-1861), a descendant of Governor Winthrop, made doubly sad the author's untimely death in battle. As a critic and lecturer Edwin P. Whipple (1819-1886), long resident in Boston, was conspicuous for many years, and his best essays are still read by the student of literature for their keen analysis and fine literary sense; but he was not a great critic, and his books lack that charm of manner and richness of thought which make Lowell's and Arnold's critical essays litera- ture. 1 The sculptor William W. Story (1819-1895), son of Chief Justice Story, and a native of Salem, who for- sook law for art and took up his residence in Italy in 1848, was a poet of fine culture and a delightful writer on art and letters. 2 The influence of Tennyson prevailed in the manner of his earlier verses, which are mostly 1 His principal writings are Essays and Reviews, 1848 ; Literature and Life, 1849; Character and Characteristic Men, 1866; Literature of the Age of Elizabeth, 1869; Success and its Conditions, 1871 ; Recollections of Eminent Men, 1886; American Literature and Other Papers, 1887; Outlooks on Society, Literature, and Politics, 1888. 2 His principal writings are Nature and Art (poem), 1844; Poems, 1847, 1856, 1886 ; Roba di Roma, or Walks and Talks about Rome, 1862 ; Graffiti d' Italia (poems) , 1868 ; A Roman Lawyer in Jerusalem : First Century, 1870 ; Nero, 1875 ; Castle of St. Angelo, 1877 ; He and She : or a Poet's Portfolio, 1883; Fiammeta: a Summer Idyl, 1885; Conversations in a Studio, 1890; Excursions in Art and Letters, 1891. 176 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. lyrics, daintily choice in diction and imagery, while Browning is his model in the rest. Mr. Story excels in expressing intangible, dreamy, misty moods, and in handling motives derived from art. Pan in Love, Praxiteles and Phryne, and Cleopatra are three of his best poems, — the last a superb interpretation of the Egyptian voluptuary's tiger soul, leopard-like, too, in splendid, lazy luxuriousness. Thomas W. Parsons (18 1 9-1 89 2), a native of Boston, who practised there and in England his profession of dental surgeon, was an accomplished Dante scholar and a poet of exquisitely fine grain though of limited range. 1 He did not write much, but nearly all is precious for its justness of thought and feeling, its classic finish, artistic restraint, and terse strength, without frigidity, and its occasional quiet pleasantry and Attic wit. His translation of the Inferno, in terza rima, is highly prized by scholar-poets, and his lines On a Bust of Dante have much of the master's austere beauty and sadness. Josiah G. Holland (1819- 1881), an editor of The Springfield Republican (1849- 1866) and founder of The Century Magazine, was of more ordinary temper; but his poems, which deal much with domestic love and sorrow, have a refined sweetness and purity of spirit, and his novels are clever and gracious. In the literary atmosphere implied by the presence and activity of so many talented authors, lived and wrote six poets, essayists, and novelists whose works consti- tute a large part of the strength and beauty of American 1 His principal writings are a translation of Dante {Inferno : Cantos I.-X., 1843; Cantos I.-XVII., 1865; complete, 1867; portions of Pur- gator io and Paradlso, 1893) \ Poe?ns, 1854; The Magnolia and Other Poems, 1867; The Old House at Sudbury, 1870; The Shadow of the Obe~ llsk, and Other Poe?ns, 1872. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 177 literature. Longfellow, Emerson, Hawthorne, Whittier, Lowell, and Holmes were, with one exception, natives of Massachusetts, and all were long resident there, most of them living in or near Boston or Cambridge. This con- centration of literary talent and genius in one state, and in the neighborhood of one city, was not an accident. As we have already seen, New England had from colonial days been the intellectual and literary leader of the country; Massachusetts was the head of New England; and Boston was the eye of Massachusetts. By heredity, tradition, and acquired momentum the Bay State still kept the lead in mental activity; Unitarianism and the Transcendental movement added an intellectual freedom and freshness not elsewhere attained so early in like degree; and Harvard College, its roots now deep in the past, bore in larger measure with every succeeding year the beautiful fruit of a ripe culture. The life of * Henry Wadsworth Longfellow * was 1 LIFE. Born in Portland, Me., Feb. 27, 1807. Educated in private schools and Portland Academy, 1810-1821 ; at Bowdoin College, enter- ing the sophomore class, 1822-1825. In France, Spain, Italy, Germany, England, 1826-1829. Professor of Modern Languages at Bowdoin, 1829-1835. Married Mary S. Potter, 1831. In England, Denmark, Swe- den, Holland, Germany, Switzerland, 1835-1836. Wife died, 1835. Professor of Modern Languages at Harvard, 1836-1854 ; lodging in the Craigie House, 1837-1843. In France, Germany, England, 1842. Mar- ried Frances E. Appleton, 1843 ; her father purchased the Craigie House for the poet, 1843 ; two sons and four daughters (one of whom died in infancy) were born to him. Wife died, 1861. In England, Germany, Switzerland, France, Italy, Scotland, 1868-1869. Received degree of LL.D. from Cambridge University, England, 1868; of D.C.L. from Oxford, 1869. Longfellow Day established in Cincinnati public schools, 1880. Died in Cambridge, Mass., March 24, 1882; was buried at Mt. Auburn. Bust of the poet placed in Westminster Abbey, 1884. A Unitarian. WORKS. Miscellaneous Poems selected from The United States Lit- erary Gazette, 1826. Coplas de Don Jorge Manrique, translated from N 178 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. singularly beautiful, the more beautiful for the deep shadows that suddenly fell athwart its placid sunshine. The best New England blood ran in his veins. His mother, an ardent lover of poetry, music, and nature, was descended from John Alden. His father, an emi- nent lawyer and a trustee of Bowdoin College, came of Yorkshire stock transplanted to Massachusetts about the year 1676. The child was from the first truthful, gentle, and studious, having natural beauty and grace of soul; and yet, although girlishly averse to rudeness and vulgarity, he was essentially a manly boy. At the age of thirteen he wrote a poem which was printed in The Portland Gazette ; l it was not remarkable, nor were the other verses and the essays which he contributed to vari- ous periodicals during his school and college life. At Bowdoin he graduated fourth in a class of thirty-eight; Hawthorne was one of his classmates, but the two were the Spanish ; with an Introductory Essay on the Moral and Devotional Poetry of Spain, 1833. The Schoolmaster (six contributions to The New England Magazine, being first sketches for Outre-Mer), 1831-1833. Outre-Mer, No. I., 1833; No. II., 1834; completed in book form, 1835. Hyperion, 1839. Voices of the Night, 1839. Ballads and Other Poems, 1841. Poems on Slavery, 1842. The Spanish Student, 1843. The Belfry of Bruges and Other Poems, 1845 (imprint, 1846). Evangeline, 1847. Kavanagh, 1849. The Seaside and the Fireside, 1850. The Golden Legend, 1851. The Song of Hiawatha, 1855. The Courtship of Miles Standish, 1858. Tales of a Wayside Inn (First Day), 1863. Flower-de-Luce, 1867. Translation of Dante's Divina Commedia, 1867- 1870. The New England Tragedies, 1868. The Divine Tragedy, 1871. Christus (consisting of the Golden Legend, The New England Trage- dies, and the Divine Tragedy), 1872. Three Books of Song (con- taining Tales of a Wayside Inn, Second Day; etc.), 1872. Aftermath r containing Tales of a Wayside Inn, Third Day; etc.), 1873. The Masque of Pandora and Other Poems, 1875. Keramos and Other Poems, 1878. Ultima Thule, 1880. In the Harbor, 1882. Michael Angelo, 1883. Several of the shorter poems were published first in magazines. 1 Longfellow denied that he wrote the doggerel about Mr. Finney and the turnip. See Longfellow's life of Longfelluw, Vol. I., p. 22. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 179 not yet intimate. After graduation, being offered the professorship of modern languages in his Alma Mater, he went abroad to fit himself more fully for the position. On his return he entered zealously upon his duties, and was a popular and inspiring teacher. He also found time to contribute articles to The North American Review, and to write his first book. At the end of five years, being invited to succeed George Ticknor in the chair of modern languages at Harvard University, he sailed again for Europe to perfect his knowledge of German and to study the Scandinavian tongues. The death of his wife in Rotterdam, after a short illness, was a cruel blow; but he held to his course, and out of his sorrow and his deeper acquaintance with the life and literature of Germany came, in after years, the romance Hyperion and the distinctive quality of many of his poems. Longfellow's life at Cambridge for many years flowed on with the tranquil beauty of his own beloved river Charles. His surroundings were congenial. Professor Felton and Charles Sumner soon became his intimate friends, 1 and he had delightful companionship with Sparks, Prescott, Ticknor, Norton, Emerson, Haw- thorne, Holmes, Lowell, and others. 2 The void in his 1 The three, with George S. Hillard and Henry R. Cleveland, formed a circle which they called " The Five of Clubs." The newspapers afterward dubbed it " The Mutual Admiration Society," because the members reviewed each other's writings favorably ; over one such review a reader wrote, " Insured in the Mutual." 2 In a letter to his friend, George W. Greene, in 1838, he thus describes his life during the summer vacation : " I breakfast &t seven on tea and toast, and dine at five or six, generally in Boston. In the evening I walk on the Common with Hillard, or alone; then go back to Cambridge on foot. If not very late, I sit an hour with Felton or Sparks. For nearly two years I have not studied at night. . . . Most 180 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. life which even his friends could not remove was at length filled by his marriage to a lovely woman of culti- vated intellect; and children came, to make his cup of domestic happiness overflow. As a professor he was popular; but finding that the routine dulled his poetic powers, he finally resigned. 1 His poems meanwhile had been winning a wider and wider circle of readers. 2 His family were growing up around him in health and happiness, and the bonds uniting him to his wife had only strengthened with time. The tranquil joy of his life seemed but the natural and due reward of the beauty of his character. 3 Suddenly, with no more warning than precedes the lightning flash, there fell upon him a of the time am alone; smoke a good deal; wear a broad-brimmed black hat, black frock-coat, black cane. Molest no one. Dine out frequently. In winter go much into Boston society." — Longfellow's life of Longfellow, Vol. I., p. 293. 1 " The seventy lectures to which I am doomed next year hang over me like a dark curtain." — Journal, April 22, 1850. " This college work is like a great hand laid on all the strings of my lyre, stopping their vibration." — Journal, Nov. 18, 1850. 2 By 1857, the sales of his works in the United States alone had been as follows: Voices of the Night, 43,550; Ballads, etc., 40,470; Spanish Student, 38,400; Belfry of Bruges, 38 ,300 ; Evangeline, 35,850; Seaside, etc., 30,000; Golden Legend, 17,188; Hiawatha, 50,000; Outre-Mer, 7500; Hyperion, 14,550; Kavanagh, 10,500. Of Miles Standish, 5000 copies were sold in Boston by noon of the first day; in London, 10,000 the first day. — Longfellow's life of Longfellow, Vol. II., pp. 295, 325-327. The poet's income from his writings was $219 in 1840; $517 in 1842; $1800 in 1846; $1900 in 1850; then $2500 and $1100. — Final Memo- rials, p. 435. 8 His freedom from bitterness, and his sunny-hearted charity, at a point where authors are apt to be most sensitive, are illustrated by his remark upon hearing of the death of Poe, who had accused him of plagiarism and ridiculed his hexameters : " What a melancholy death is that of Mr. Poe, a man so richly endowed with genius! . . . The harshness of his criticisms I have never attributed to anything but the irritation of a sensitive nature chafed by some indefinite sense of wrong." — Longfellow's life of Longfellow, Vol. II., p. 150. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 181 calamity, the sorest which could come to a man of such depth of domestic affection. His wife was one day sit- ting in the library, sealing up some packages of her little daughters' curls, when a match set fire to her dress; Longfellow was himself severely burned in his efforts to put out the flames, but she died the next day. "He bore his grief with courage and in silence. . . . To a brother far distant he wrote: 'And now, of what we are both thinking I can write no word. God's will be done.' To a visitor, who expressed the hope that he might be enabled to 'bear his cross ' with patience, he replied: 'Bear the cross, yes; but what if one is stretched upon it?'" 1 Gradually, however, his cheer- fulness returned, although at the depths he was hence- forth a lonely man. After his last trip abroad, he passed his days in quiet content and leisurely labor beneath the Cambridge elms. One by one many of his old friends fell by the way, and in 1881 his own health began to show signs of breaking. His last illness, however, was brief. On a Saturday four schoolboys from Boston visited him, and were kindly enter- tained; with one exception, they were the last guests of the "Children's Poet." That night he was taken violently ill. On the following Friday he died, and two nations mourned at his grave. "The key to his character," writes his brother, "was sympathy. This made him the gentle and courteous receiver of every visitor, however obscure, however tedious; the ready re- sponder to every appeal to his pity and his purse; . . . the charitable judge of motives, and excuser of mistakes and offences; the delicate yet large liker. . . . This 1 Longfellow's life of Longfellow, Vol. II., p. 369. 182 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. gave to his poetry the human element which made . . . in thousands of hearts in many lands a shrine of rever- ence and affection for his name." 1 Longfellow's magazine articles 2 had no permanent value, and his prose romances appealed to a taste which has largely passed away. In Outre- Mer one may, how- ever, still enjoy the freshness of a young poet's delight in visiting the enchanted land of France, Spain, and Italy. Hyperion, which is essentially autobiographical, runs over with poetic enthusiasm for the newly dis- covered wealth of romance in German scenery, legend, and literature, at the same time teaching, after Goethe, that sorrow is good for the soul. 3 Kavanagh paints life in a New England village with the quietness and thinness of a water-color. In manner, all three show strongly the influence of Irving, through whose Sketch-Book Long- fellow in boyhood entered the wonder- world of literature ; but, especially in Hyperion, the style is more flowery, and the sentiment more often degenerates into sentimen- tality. Yet the books are full of their author's sweet graciousness, and contain passages of pure and delicate beauty. Longfellow's verse includes lyrics and other short poems, long narrative poems, dramas, and translations. Most of the short poems may be roughly classified, ac- cording to their predominant element, into three groups, 1 Life of Longfellow, Vol. II., p. 474. 2 As Origin and Progress of the French Language {North American Review, April, 1831) ; The Defence of Poetry {ibid., January, 1832) ; Hawthorne s Twice Told Tales {ibid., July, 1837) ; Anglo-Saxon Litera- ture {ibid., July, 1838). 3 Richter, however, seems to have made the strongest impression upon Longfellow at this time. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 183 ivhich, however, flow into each other freely, — didactic poems, poems of the affections, and poems more imagi- native and objective. The didactic poems, A Psalm of Life at their head, often contain more preaching than poetry. In some of them, however, as The Rainy Day, the lesson is gracefully combined with poetic beauty. It must be remembered, also, that Longfellow was writing chiefly for the descendants of Puritans, and gave them as much pure beauty as many were capable of receiving. In poems of the second group, of which The Village Blacksmith and *The Old Clock on the Stairs are repre- sentative, pictorial or emotional elements are a larger part of the whole, and exist more for their own sake. These simple poems, in which Longfellow touches the human heart with gentle power, contain some of his most characteristic work. His lines about children, and about his friends living or dead, still further prove his right to be called the poet of the domestic affections. And his words upon the sorrow and mystery of life, and upon the consolations of religion — which with him is always a very human thing, — are so full of natural nobleness and childlike reverence that they soothe and purify. In poems of the third group the imaginative and poetic quality is occasionally high. As poetry the Midnight Mass for the Dying Year is worth innumerable Psalms of Life ; and it is almost incredible that Excelsior came from the same hand, and at the same time, as the finely imaginative Skeleton in Armor. The many poems whose subject, manner, and metre are derived from for- eign sources, especially from German, remind us anew how great was this scholar-poet's indebtedness to the history, legends, life, and literatures of the Old World. 1 84 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. The nature poems, on the other hand, often show the influence of Bryant. But even in lines most after the manner of the earlier poet, as The Spirit of Poetry and Rain in Summer, there is felt the tender grace peculiar to Longfellow ; while in poetry of the sea the author of The Wreck of the Hesperus, The Building of the Ship, The Secret of the Sea, and The Lighthouse has no rival among American poets, except Walt Whitman. He wrote well of the "awful, pitiless sea"; but he loved most to sing of its beauty and mystery and romance, and it is that which he has interpreted best. Longfellow was never active in the abolitionist cause. It was not his part to go in sackcloth and ashes, and cry, " Woe unto Nineveh ! " He belonged, rather, to the sons of Korah, who by their songs make more beautiful the courts of the Lord. His Poems on Slavery, therefore, although sincere enough, seem bookish and tame in comparison with Whittier's fiery blasts. The sonnet of the trumpet note, the organ tone, or the passionate love-cry- Long- fellow could not command. But the sonnet of quiet beauty, of gentle sadness, whose music is like the breath- ings of a lute, he wrote well, conforming strictly to the exacting Italian form, yet without apparent sacrifice of naturalness or ease. 1 Most of Longfellow's finest short poems were written in youth and middle age ; but he continued singing under the evening sky, and a little of his best work was done then. The earlier poems have more freshness and charm ; but the later usually contain fewer positive faults, and are freighted with a richer experience of life. 2 1 See Nature, My Cathedral, and Divina Commedia (Sonnet I.). 2 See Flower-de-Luce, Hawthorne, Killed at the Ford, Charles Sum* HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 185 Longfellow was fortunate in the subject of his first long narrative poem. In * Evangeline he worked upon a story of singular beauty and pathos, and had a heroine whose pure and gentle nature he was peculiarly fitted to portray. In truth, Evangeline seems less an individual character than an ideal abstraction, the embodiment of woman's deathless love. The setting is vitally related to the centra] figure. The picture of the harmless life of the Acadian farmers heightens our sense of the lovely innocence of the heroine, in whom that life attains its perfection. Grand- Pre" is the dove-cote of the dove, who is soon to receive a crimson wound in her white bosom and be driven forth to wander desolate over the world. 1 In Part Second the descriptions contrast Evangeline's solitude with the re- gained happiness of her friends, and help the reader to realize the vastness and wildness of the West and the consequent heroism, yet hopelessness, of her search. The final meeting of the aged lovers, in the fever hospi- tal, is a picture, at once beautiful and pathetic, of spiritual love immortal amidst the body's decay. The metre of the poem has provoked much discussion. What is cer- tain is that English hexameters can be natural and musi- cal, but that in a long poem in that metre it seems very difficult to avoid many awkward or prosaic lines. Thus Evangeline contains numerous verses, and a few entire rier, Belisarius, Three Friends of Mine (Sonnet II., on Professor Felton), Chaucer, Keramos, A Ballad of the French Fleet, The Leap of Roushan Beg, Bayard Taylor, From My Artn- Chair, Mad River, The Bells of San Bias. 1 Longfellow of course sacrifices -historical accuracy to pathos. In fact, save for a vague reference to Louisburg, Beau Sejour, and Port Royal, the poem contains no hint of the cause of the Acadians' re- moval. 186 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. passages, which flow easily and melodiously ; l others m which the hexameter movement has been secured by an unnatural word-order ; 8 and still others which, if printed as prose, would be read as such. 3 Yet the metre seems, on the whole, to be well fitted to the poem, by reason of its rapidity, dignity, and flexibility, although it is a ques- tion whether the effect would not be finer, on the whole, had the story been told in the delicate, light-footed verse of Lancelot and Elaine} The Courtship of Miles Standish, being in lighter vein, allowed more scope to the poet's pleasant humor. In how kindly a fashion does this play around the doughty 1 Over the pallid sea and the silvery mist of the meadows. Day after day they glided adown the turbulent river. Part Second, Section II., has many beautiful lines and goes well as a whole. 2 See Part First, Section I., the second paragraph. 8 " It was a band of exiles : a raft, as it were, from the shipwrecked nation, scattered along the coast, now floating together." (Part Second, Section II.) 4 The success of the hexameter in German poetry, notably in Goethe's Hermann und Dorothea, no doubt emboldened Longfellow to make the courageous experiment of writing his first long poem in this then unfa- miliar metre. But even now the English hexameter is inferior to the German. One reason may be that English is too monosyllabic. The paucity of good spondees in English is surely another difficulty, lead- ing cither to an excess of dactyls, the jounce and clatter of which finally fatigue, or to trochaic lines, which have not sufficient fulness of sound and majesty of movement. The poverty of the sensuous effect in this trochaic line from Evangeline : — List to a tale of Love in Acadie, home of the happy, is doubly apparent in comparison with the following full-throated line, rich in spondees, from Kingsley's Andromeda : — Whirled in the white-linked dance, with the gold-crowned Hours and the Gra- in general, Longfellow paid too little attention to quantity in his hex- ameters. Miles Standish is written with a somewhat freer hand, but there arc fewer musical lines. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 187 little Puritan captain and his refreshingly unsanctified anger ; around the master of the departing " Mayflower,' ' glad to be gone from a land where there was " plenty of nothing but Gospel," and . . . taking each by the hand, as if he were grasping a tiller; even around the hero, rather needlessly distraught by the struggle between his love and his Puritanic conscience. Yet there is no lack of admiration for the great qualities of the Pilgrims : — O strong hearts and true ! not one went back in the May Flower ! In fact, the whole poem is a sympathetic and truthful picture of the early days of Plymouth Colony. The his- torical value is rather increased than diminished by the prominence given to the love story ; we are apt to over- look the purely human side of the life of the Puritans, half forgetting that they loved, married, and reared chil- dren as well as prayed, fasted, and cast out devils. The best thing in the poem is the nobility of Priscilla's womanhood ; the next best, the feminine tact with which she manages her lover for his own good, in spite of the restraints of her sex and sect and his conscience-begotten blundering. Before Longfellow's day, poems on the American aborigines had been mostly failures. In them the Indian usually appeared either as a repulsive savage or as a sen- timental and romantic white man in a red skin. But in Hiawatha, by happy intuition, Longfellow seized upon the legends and myths of the Indian as the subject for his poem, w T hich could thus be at once poetic and real. 1 1 See also Longfellow's early handling of Indian life in Burial of tht Minnisink. and in Part Second, Section IV., of Evangeline, .188 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. Hiawatha is fresh and beautiful With the odors of the forest, With the dew and damp of meadows, With the curling smoke of wigwams, With the rushing of great rivers. The mind of the childhood of a race is seen in the lovely personifications of the East Wind and the West Wind ; in the fancy of the Milky Way as the pathway of ghosts ; in the boyish humor and love of the marvellous which pervade the stories of Hiawatha's fishing and the pranks of Pau-Puk-Keewis ; in the naive but powerful imagination which conceived the ravenous ghosts that for many days lodge in Hiawatha's wigwam, Cowering, crouching with the shadows, and at last are discovered Sitting upright on their couches, Weeping in the silent midnight, because the living do not really desire the return of the dead. But even the poetry of the Indians Longfellow has somewhat idealized, chiefly by the rejection of capri- cious and malignant elements in the character of his hero, who is much more like an Indian King Arthur than is the Hiawatha of the original legends. 1 The verse and style of Hiawatha (upon the model of the Finnish epic, Kalevald)* although monotonous upon prolonged reading, are peculiarly fitted to the substance and spirit of the poem. The short phrases and simple sentences, the frequent repetitions and parallelisms, the 1 See The Myth of Hiawatha, by H. R. Schoolcraft, Philadelphia and London, 1856. 2 See the English translation by J. M. Crawford. HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. 189 quick trochaic movement, the absence of rhyme or stanza, suggest the childlike character of these legends, and the swaying boughs, quivering leaves, and leaping brooks to the music of which they were first narrated. Tales of a Wayside Inn show the hand of an experi- enced literary craftsman and wide reading in many tongues, but also a decline of creative power with the coming on of age. Longfellow's dramas are, as a class, the poorest of his work. Judas Maccabceus and The Masque of Pandora are feeble. Michael Angelo is written in the author's best mature style and contains noble passages, especially those interpreting the spirit of Michael Angelo and Benvenuto Cellini; the work deserves to be more read, but it is a loosely connected series of dialogues and monologues rather than a dra- matic poem. The Divine Tragedy, consisting of scenes from the life of Christ, in a bare paraphrase of Scripture language, is painfully inadequate. The New England Tragedies, although they report accurately the facts and spirit of the Quaker persecutions and the Salem Witch- craft, sadly lack imaginative sweep and power. Long- fellow's best dramatic poems are The Spanish Student and The Golden Legend, in which his humor, lyric gift, and poetic insight into Spanish and mediaeval life found free ex- pression. The first is full of the passion, romance, and gayety of youth and Spain, and contains Longfellow's best song, Stars of the Summer Night. The second, in addition to poetic charm, has great merit as an interpre- tation of the many-sided life of the Middle Ages. 1 As 1 " Longfellow, in The Golden Legend, has entered more closely into me temper of the Monk, for good and for evil, than ever yet theological writer or historian." — Ruskin, in Modern Painters^ Vol. IV., Chap. 20* 190 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. a translator Longfellow's career was long and brilliant. He early revealed a rare gift in rendering the airy grace of the French, the tender richness of the Spanish, and the mysticism, romance, and deep-heartedness of the German into idiomatic and musical English verse. His great achievement in translation is the version of Dante's Divina Commedia, which occupied him at intervals dur- ing the greater part of his adult life ; fidelity was secured at considerable loss of poeticalness and ease, but the work is nevertheless a noble offering to the memory of the great Italian. Longfellow had much in common with Irving. His character had the same simplicity and gentleness; his culture was essentially European, although it consisted with warm patriotism and the choice of American sub- jects for many of his best poems; his gifts were affection, sentiment, and taste, not trenchant intellect, intense passion, or high imagination. In humor and satire he was inferior to Irving, but the place of these was more than filled by poetic vision and melodious song. Long- fellow is not a great poet. There are heights and depths, splendors and glooms, in life and the soul, which his muse of the fireside and the library could not touch. § 32. " The story is told, and perhaps invented, by Hartmann von der Aue, a Minnesinger of the twelfth century. The original [Der Arme Heinric/i] may be found in Mailath's Altdeutsche Gedlchte, with a mod- ern German version." — Longfellow's note. See also Friedrich Miinz- ner's Die Quellen zu Longfellows Golden Legend (Dresden, 1897). The dramas gain nothing by being put together and called Christus. Yet the plan of such a work was early conceived and long cherished : " 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 would be the various aspects of Christendom in the Apostolic, Middle, and Modern Ages." — Longfellow's Journal, November 8, 1841. UNITARIANISM. 191 In early years he did not wholly escape the prevalent taste for commonplace sentiment. His Puritan ancestry and New England environment made him over anxious to point the moral; he was not enough content to let incident, character, and scenery produce their own effect. But nevertheless his artistic instinct was large, and htf came into many bare New England homes as an apostle of new and wondrous beauty. Much of his work will long live, because it touches the heart, refines the spirit, and has for the senses a gentle charm. In the purity, sweetness, and harmony of his nature Longfellow is one of the world's elect. Longfellow's unspeculative nature held him aloof from the theological and philosophical controversies of his day. The life and work of Emerson, on the contrary, cannot be understood without first glancing at the history of theology and philosophy in New England since the middle of the eighteenth century. 1 Down to the time of the Great Awakening, in 1 734-1 744, Calvinism had reigned almost undisputed in New England. But the reaction against the emotional excesses of that tre- mendous revival brought to the surface the more liberal tendencies which had doubtless been germinating in the soil for some time. Contemporary liberal thought in England furthered their growth. The dispute turned at first upon the question how far man's will might be an agent in effecting his conversion. The school of which Jonathan Edwards was the head asserted the 1 It will be understood, of course, that we here have nothing to do with the truth or error of the opinions referred to, but only with their history and their relation to literature. Thus the words " liberal," " orthodox," etc., are used wholly in their historical sense and without any intention to imply approval or disapproval. 192 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. absolute sovereignty of God in this act, as in all others; 1 the Arminian school, of which Charles Chauncy and Jonathan Mayhew were the earliest leaders, affirmed that the sinner, by diligently cultivating the means of grace, and so fulfilling the conditions for receiving it, might cooperate in his own regeneration. From this small beginning the breach widened more and more. The doctrine of the Trinity was soon openly attacked; and, although the political ferment of the Revolution drew men's thoughts largely away from theological questions, Unitarianism quietly spread in eastern Massachusetts, until, at the close of the century, there was scarcely a Trinitarian Congregational clergyman in Boston. No open separation, however, had yet occurred. With the new century there came a change. The appointment of five Unitarians to professorships in Harvard College, in 1 805-1 807, made clear the position of that venerable institution. By 1815 circumstances had compelled the liberal party reluctantly to accept the distinctive title of " Unitarian." Four years later, aroused by Channing's famous sermon at Baltimore on Unitarian Christianity, the denomination assumed a more confident and aggres* sive attitude, and entered upon a period of controversy and expansion. Emerson inherited whatever of mental breadth and spiritual inspiration the earlier Unitarianism had to 1 Edwards's greatest work, on the freedom of the will, was written to refute the Arminian doctrine of the will. His position is (1) that the will is "that by which the mind chooses anything"; (2) that "the will is always determined by the strongest motive " ; (3) that to the evil man evil appeals more strongly than good does, and that he is therefore " morally," though not " naturally," unable to choose the good ; (4) that, consequently, man is wholly dependent upon the grace of God for a change of heart ; (5) that, nevertheless, since the sinner does what he TRANSCENDENTALISM. 193 give. But its direct service to him in this kind was small. "The Unitarians of New England," says 0. B. Frothingham, who will not be accused of understating their merits, "belonged . . . to the class which looked without for knowledge, rather than within for inspira- tion. . . . The Unitarian was disquieted by mysticism, enthusiasm, and rapture. . . . Even Doctor Channing clung to the philosophical traditions that were his in- heritance from England." 1 But indirectly, by what it allowed to enter from without, Unitarianism greatly assisted in the development of Emerson's genius. It will be no more than fair to hear what Mr. Frothingham has to say on this side also: "The Unitarians . . . acknowledged themselves to be friends of free thought in religion. This was their distinction. They dis- avowed sympathy with dogmatism. . . . They hon- estly but incautiously professed a principle broader than they were able to stand by, and avowed the abso- lute freedom of the human mind as their characteristic faith. . . . The literature on their tables represented a wide mental activity. Their libraries contained authors never found before on ministerial shelves." 2 Hence it happened that the sect which had within its own ranks less of severe metaphysical ability than some of the orthodox denominations, did more than any other religious body to encourage the introduction into America of the new German philosophy. New England Transcendentalism had its roots in the philosophy of Kant. In opposition to the philosophy of Locke, the chooses, and chooses evil because of his own wickedness, not because of outward compulsion, he is justly held responsible by God. 1 Transcendentalism in New England, p. no. 2 Ibid., p. 114. O 194 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. prevailing system of thought in England and America, a system which, by its assumption that all knowledge is derived from experience through the senses, tended logically to materialism and scepticism, Kant sought to show that the ideas of the Reason — the Soul, the Uni- verse as One, the Absolute Being, or God — are not derived from experience, but are implanted in the very constitution of the mind, which thus has intuitive knowl- edge of high truths that can never be reached by the merely logical understanding or the physical senses. The ideas of Kant were further developed by Fichte, Schel- ling, Hegel, and other German philosophers; clothed with poetic beauty and mystical fervor by Goethe arid Richter; expounded with the elegant lucidity of the agile French mind by Cousin, Constant, and others; transplanted into England in the writings of Coleridge and Carlyle; and, chiefly in their French or English dress, brought to America during Emerson's youth and early manhood. 1 The new idealism contributed its share 1 " Few [American scholars] read German, but most read French. As early as 1804, Degerando lectured on Kant's philosophy, in Paris ; and as early as 18 13, Madame de Stael gave an account of it. . . . The works of Coleridge made familiar the leading ideas of Schelling. The foreign reviews reported the results and processes of French and Ger- man speculation. In 1827, Thomas Carlyle wrote, in the Ed'mburgh Review, his great articles on Richter and the State of German Literature ; in 1828 appeared his essay on Goethe. Mr. Emerson presented these and other papers, as Carlyle's Miscellanies, to the American public. [Sartor Resartus was reprinted in America in 1836.] In 1830, George Ripley began the publication of the Specimens of Standard Foreign Lit- erature. . . . These volumes . . . brought many readers into a close acquaintance with the teaching and the spirit of writers of the new school." — Transcendental} sm. in New England, pp. 115-117. The in- fluence of Coleridge upon the philosophy of James Marsh, president and professor at the University of Vermont, deserves passing mention ; in 1829 he published a Preliminary Essay to Coleridge's Aids to Reflection. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 195 to the so-called "Romantic movement," which, in the latter part of the eighteenth century and the early part of the nineteenth, did so much to break through the crust of tradition and turn fresh streams of thought and feeling into nearly every department of life in the prin- cipal countries of Europe. In New England likewise, within a narrow circle, the new ideas exerted a power- ful influence for a time, as will appear more fully in the course of our study of the "Sage of Concord." * Ralph Waldo Emerson l was descended from a re- markably long line of clergymen and scholars, beginning with Peter Bulkeley, Fellow of St. John's College, Cambridge, who in 1634 fled from the persecution of Laud and settled at Concord. Emerson's grandfather, William Emerson, was builder of the "Old Manse," pastor at Concord in 1775, an ardent patriot, an elo- 1 Life. Born in Boston, May 25, 1803. Attended Latin School, 1813-1817 ; Harvard College, 1817-1821 ; taught school in or near Boston, 1821-1826; attended Harvard Divinity School, 1825-1828; licensed to preach, 1826. Spent winter of 1826-1827 in the South. Became pastor of Old North Church, Boston, 1829. Married Ellen Tucker, 1829; she died, 183 1. Resigned his pastorate, 1832. In Italy, France, England, 1832-1833. Lecturing, 1832-1872: chiefly in New England, 1832-1847; in Scotland and England, 1847-1848; in New England, Middle States, and West, 1851-1872. Settled in Concord, 1834. Married Lidian Jack- son, 1835 ; two sons and two daughters were born to him. Visited Eng- land and France, 1847-1848. Given degree of LL.D. by Harvard, and elected college overseer, 1866. Visited California, 1871. House burned, 1872. In England, France, Italy, Egypt, 1872-1873. Died at Concord, April 27, 1882. WORKS. Nature, 1836. Essays : First Series, 1841 ; Second Series, 1844. Contributions to The Dial, 1840-1844. Poems, 1847. Miscella- nies (Nature, Addresses, Lectures), 1849. Representative Men, 1850. English Traits, 1856. Conduct of Life, i860. May-Day and Other Pieces (poems), 1867. Society and Solitude, 1870. Letters and Social Aims, 1876. Correspondence of Carlyle and Emerson, 1883. Natural History of the Intellect, 1893 (lectures at Harvard and elsewhere, reprints from The Dial, etc.). 196 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. quent preacher, and a man of marked literary tastes. Kis father, of the same name, pastor of the First Church, Boston, also had high reputation as a preacher and stu- dent. He died when Waldo was eight years old, so that the boy's home training w T as received chiefly from his mother, a woman of peculiar- serenity of temper; his aunt, Mary Moody Emerson, of remarkable intellect and character, also exerted a strong influence over him for many years. Emerson's distinctive genius, like Mil- ton's, came into full bloom rather late. But he seems early to have had a certain general maturity, and his spiritual nature was, from the first, of singular elevation and charm. 1 At college he was only a fair scholar, having no faculty for mathematics and pursuing a desul- tory course of private reading with more industry than the prescribed studies; but he took a prize for declama- tion, and two prizes for dissertations, and graduated somewhat above the middle of his class. 2 As a teacher, Emerson was much respected and loved; but he found the work very irksome, and gladly relinquished it, after four profitable years, to begin his studies in divinity. 1 " I don't think he ever engaged in boy's play ; . . . simply because, from his earliest years, he dwelt in a higher sphere." " A spiritual-look- ing boy in blue nankeen, . . . whose image, more than any other's, is still deeply stamped upon my mind as I then saw him and loved him, I knew not why, and thought him so angelic and remarkable." — Remi- niscences by two schoolmates, in J. E. Cabot's Memoir of Emerson, Vol. I., pp. 5, 6. 2 In his first year he served as " President's freshman," or messenger, and waited on table at the college commons. A classmate says : " By degrees . . . the more studious members of his class began to seek him out. They found him to be unusually thoughtful and well-read. . . . He had studied the early English dramatists and poets, pored over Montaigne, and knew Shakespeare almost by heart. In his sophomore year he became the leading spirit in a little book-club." —Cabot, Vol. I., PP- 59. <>3- RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 197 An affection of the eyes and symptoms of consumption, the latter compelling him to spend one winter in Florida, interfered greatly with his theological course. But during these years of leisurely reading and meditation his nature, by the privilege of genius, was doubtless absorbing the food it most needed and slowly growing toward maturity. 1 Soon after leaving the divinity school he married, and entered upon what he supposed would be his life-work as a Unitarian clergyman. Three years brought serious changes. Mrs. Emerson's death took the sunshine out of his home, and a few months later he felt obliged to resign his pastorate. This step, occasioned by difference of opinion about the Lord's Supper, was the first clear intimation that Emerson was finding the Unitarian faith too narrow for his expanding thought. For several years he continued to preach as occasion offered; but his religious ideas differed more and more from those of the Unitarians as a body, and his address before the Harvard Divinity School, in 1838, raised a storm of alarm, being condemned by prominent liberal clergy- men as anti-Christian and even atheistical. Mean- while Emerson had found his vocation. As a lecturer he had peculiar charm, — the triple charm of a fascinat- ing voice, brilliant thought, and a personality singularly 1 Doctor F. H. Hedge, who first met Emerson in 1828, says : "There was no presage then, that I remember, of his future greatness. . . . He never jested ; a certain reserve in his manner restrained the jesting pro- pensity and any license of speech in others. He was slow in his move- ments, as in his speech. . . . No one, .1 think, ever saw him run. In ethics he held very positive opinions. Here his native independence of thought was manifest. ' Owe no conformity to custom,' he said, •against your private judgment.' " — Cabot, Vol. I., p. 138. 198 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. winning and spiritually stimulating. It was the day of the "lyceum," and many talented lecturers regularly went about the country. But Emerson was, on the whole, the prince of them all. Year after year, while other lecturers, seemingly more eloquent, waxed only to wane, this quiet reader of apparently disconnected thoughts upon intangible " transcendental " subjects heM the platform and steadily exercised his gentle fascination over hearers of widely different temperaments and be- liefs. 1 Most of his lectures were afterward reprinted as books, 2 which had some sale; but for many years he depended chiefly upon lecturing to eke out his limited income. 3 After his first trip to Europe, his second mar- riage, and his settlement in Concord, his life flowed on for many years with a tranquillity befitting the serene philosopher. The deaths of his brothers Edward and Charles, in 1834 and 1836, deprived him of companions whose places were never filled again, although he was 1 " It was with a feeling of predetermined dislike that I had the curiosity to look at Emerson at Lord Northampton's, a fortnight ago ; when, in an instant, all my dislike vanished. He has one of the most interesting countenances I ever beheld, — a combination of intelligence and sweetness that quite disarmed me." — Diary, etc., of H. C. Robinson, April 22, 1848. " I can do no better than tell what Harriet Martineau says about him : ' There is a vague nobleness and thorough sweetness about him which move people to their very depths, without their being able to explain why. . . . He conquers minds, as well as hearts, wher- ever he goes; and, without convincing anybody's reason of any one thing, exalts their reason, and makes their minds worth more than they ever were before.' " — Ibid., June 9, 1848. 2 " A large number of his lectures," says Mr. Cabot, " remain un- published." 3 " The Tucker estate [that of the family of his first wife] is so far settled," he writes in 1834, " that I am made sure of an income of about #1200." — Cabot, Vol. I., p. 218. " He writes ... in 1847 that the most he ever received was $570 for ten lectures; in Boston, $50; in country lyceums, $10 and travelling expenses." — Ibid., Vol. II., p. 460. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. '199 surrounded by dear friends all his life, and between him and Carlyle there was deep affection. In 1842 the death of his eldest child, a remarkable boy of five years, cut into his heart with pain against which no philosopher is proof or ought to be. But in the main his life was a singularly happy one. As the years went on, his fame steadily increased. As early as 1847, when he revisited England, he was recognized there as one of the most remarkable men of the century; and at home he was reverenced as a seer and saint, who dwelt habitually in the presence of the highest spiritual realities. 1 Emerson's mind began to fail after the year 1870, He had always been deliberate in conversation, "pick- ing his way through his vocabulary to get at the best expression of his thoughts, as a well-dressed woman crosses the muddy pavement." 2 In old age his memory for words became capricious, and often he was forced to describe objects instead of naming them ■ — as when he humorously said of an umbrella, "I can't tell its name, but I can tell its history: strangers take it away." 3 The shock and exposure at the burning of his house hastened his decline, and he once more went abroad, for health and rest. On his return the love and pride of his fellow-townsmen appeared in the reception they gave him; he "was escorted, with music, between two rows of smiling school-children, to his house, where a triumphal arch of leaves and flowers had been 1 Father Taylor, the Methodist preacher to sailors, who said of Emer- son that " he knows no more of the religion of the New Testament than Balaam's ass did of the principles of the Hebrew grammar " (Cabot, Vol. I., p. 328), yet declared that Emerson was more like Christ than any man he had known (O. W. Holmes's life of Emerson, p. 412). 2 Holmes, p. 364. 8 Cabot, Vol. II., p. 652. 200 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. erected." 1 By generous friends the house had been restored, with some improvements, to its former condi- tion. His renewed vigor was fleeting. His powers failed more and more, until, toward the end, he took childish delight in looking at pictures in books and showing them to guests. At Longfellow's funeral he said to a friend, "That gentleman was a sweet, beauti- ful soul, but I have entirely forgotten his name." 2 A few weeks later this pathetic, but not painful, second- childhood of a high intellect was ended by death, after a brief illness free from suffering until near the very last. He was able to take farewell of his family and friends; and, his eyes falling upon a portrait of Carlyle, he murmured, "That is that man, my man." Not long after he fell asleep. Emerson's philosophy is the key to his prose writ- ings, large portions of which are merely amplifications or applications of a few fundamental ideas. He was an idealist. "Mind," he says, "is the only reality." 3 "I believe in the existence of the material world as the expression of the spiritual, or the real." 4 Nature expresses not only the Infinite Mind, but the finite mind as well, since all mind is in essence the same. "The whole of nature is a metaphor of the human mind. The laws of moral nature answer to those of matter as face to face in a glass." 5 He even speaks of 1 Cabot, Vol. II., p. 665. 2 Holmes, p. 346. 3 The Transcendentalist. See also Nature, Chap. VI. 4 Natural History of Intellect. G Nature, Chap. IV. Cf. Wordsworth : — and how exquisitely, too — Theme this but little heard of among men — The external World is fitted to the Mind. — Preface to The Excursion. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 201 the universe as the " e xternizatio n of the soul." 1 But this is because he does not sharply sever God from Man. "The currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God." 2 "The soul in man ... is not the intellect or the will, but . . . the background of our being, in which they lie, — an immensity not possessed and that cannot be pos- sessed." 3 This view was the easier because Emerson thought of God as neither personal nor impersonal, but as the transcendent, indefinable Source of all modes of being. 4 All this but repeats the ideas of Carlyle, Coleridge, the German idealists, Plato, and the mystic thinkers of the Orient. Emerson was not an original philosopher. In the strict sense he was not a philosopher at all, for he relied upon intuition instead of reason, and was much more intent upon the moral and spiritual than upon the intellectual. Herein lay his unique value for his land and age. Taking almost for granted the lofty conceptions of idealism, this high spiritual nature put them to use in everyday life. He followed his own precept, "Hitch your wagon to a star." In the teeth of conventionalism, materialism, and scepticism he preached with singular incisiveness and charm the new- old doctrine of the Soul and its immediate relation to the Infinite Being. This first of truths dominates all his thinking. In the light of it nature takes on a higher beauty and a deeper significance. History and biography become fresh and vital with the indwelling 1 The Poet, in Essays, Second Series. 2 Nature, Chap. I. 8 The Over-Soul, in Essays, First Series. * See Nature, Chap. VII. ; Fate, in The Conduct of Life; etc. 202 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. life of God. Art ceases to be a matter of superficial form, but is seen as the artist's expression of the Eter- nal Beauty. For the individual life the doctrine is rich in guidance and inspiration. "Trust thyself;" God is in thee also. Pretence is vain; "character teaches over our head." Fret not ; "the things that are really for thee gravitate to thee." Heaven and hell are within thee; "he who does a good deed is instantly ennobled, he who does a mean deed is by the action itself con- tracted." The highest greatness is internal and sim- ple; "give me health and a day, and I will make the pomp of emperors ridiculous." Upon social problems Emerson turned the searchlight of the same spiritual philosophy. In the Church the great defect, he thought, was that " men have come to speak of the revelation as somewhat long ago given and done, as if God were dead." He sympathized with the many reform move- ments of his day, but criticised them for depending too much upon outward means, too little upon love; 1 and of Fourier's elaborate socialistic scheme he quietly re- marked that its originator "had skipped no fact but one, namely Life." The materialism of the American people, and their subservience to Europe in things of the higher life, he smote like an angel of light " Per- haps the time is already come . . . when the sluggard intellect of this continent will look from under its iron lids, and fill the postponed expectation of the world with something better than the exertions of mechanical skill." 2 "We have listened too long to the courtly muses of Europe. . . . We will walk on our own feet; 1 See Man the Reformer ; Lecture on the Times ; and New England Reformers, in Essays, Second Series. • 2 The Atnerican Scholar. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 203 we will work with our own hands; we will speak our own minds." * But other and more personal qualities appear in Emerson's pages, and win him readers even among those who perhaps do not sympathize with philosophic idealism or who find its iteration wearisome. Here and there poetic descriptions of nature gleam out with a fresh, serene beauty that never palls. A courageous candor in self-analysis sometimes smites the reader into wholesome shame. Again and again there is revealed an insight, as subtle as true, into the facts of man's spiritual being. A certain personal fastidiousness gives warning of a nature of extreme delicacy, and prepares us for those admirable words on behavior and manners which, but for the underlying spirituality, might have been uttered by Lord Chesterfield. 2 Curiously united with the qualities of seer and mystic, appear the shrewdness, humor, and keen observation of the Yankee. This ballast of hard common-sense the New England sage always took with him even in his most aerial voyagings, while in the admirable historical and political addresses, and in English Traits, it forms the principal cargo. 3 Inspiring and keen as Emerson's mind was, it had certain limitations and defects which cannot be passed by in any careful estimate of his work. His instinct for the incisive and the startling often lured him into extravagance of statement. He was not a learned man, and even his reading was desultory; consequently his 1 The American Scholar. 2 In this connection Emerson's lifelong liking for the courtly Beau- mont and Fletcher is significant. 3 See particularly the Historical Discourse at Concord and Historic Notes of Life and Letters in New England, 204 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. words on books, history, and systems of thought, al- though suggestive and stimulating, lack the authority of the scholar. 1 Like Carlyle, he was constitutionally unable to do justice to the scientific habit of mind and its results. His philosophic idealism, together with extreme personal spirituality, led him to overrate Swe- denborg and to underrate Shakspere and the sensu- ous side of art in general. The same elements, modified by his humor and common-sense, determined his atti- tude toward Transcendentalism. It is difficult nowa- days, when we have passed into an atmosphere so different, to do this movement entire justice. Un- doubtedly Transcendentalism did good in its own day, especially as an offset to America's prevailing genius of the materialistic and practical. It broke with tradition, and opened the way for new ideas. It held up before the eyes of Young America high ideals of character, religion, philanthropy, social life, and national des- tiny. Indirectly it helped to lend soul to several practical reforms. But on its speculative side Trans- cendentalism was shallow and amateurish, and in prac- tice it tended to Utopianism. A few ideas hastily caught up at second hand from ancient and modern philosophy were the entire stock in trade of most of its disciples. Parties of ladies and gentlemen met in parlors to inflate their souls with the rarefied moonshine of which Mr. Alcott had such plenteous store. 3 It was 1 " He would have been partly amused, partly vexed, to hear himself described as a profound student ... of anything to be learned from books." " He lived among his books and was never comfortable away from them, yet they did not much enter into his life." — Cabot, Vol. I., pp. 288, 292. 2 In Historic Notes of Life and Letters in New England, Emerson tells, with evident relish, that on one such occasion, " at a knotty point RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 205 a day for the blowing of soap-bubbles, beautifully iri- descent, with which as cannon-balls the grim strong- holds of error and wrong were to be battered down, preliminary to creating a new heaven and a new earth. Emerson's relations to Transcendentalism were peculiar. Although he was the soul and centre of the whole move- ment, he always maintained a somewhat critical attitude toward it, especially toward the fantastic, if harmless, eccentricities of theory and practice which capered around its circumference. His hopes might fly to Uto- pia, but his feet remained in Concord where were his house and his taxes. He never joined the Brook Farm community, nor showed much faith in its permanent success. Even in the case of the more practicable reforms connected with intemperance, the wrongs of women, and slavery, he maintained a philosophic calm and breadth of view, although speaking his mind on fit occasion with manly courage. And yet one feels that on the whole Emerson was too indulgent toward Trans- cendentalism and for a time too sanguine over its work in the world. Certainly he greatly overestimated Alcott. And he even made a mild attempt to bring in the Golden Age by having his servants eat at the same table with himself and his family — a plan which was promptly frustrated by the superior good sense of the domestics. 1 More serious limitations for the general reader are Emer- son's too easy optimism and his defective sense of evil and sin. Both limitations sprang from the excess of idealism in his thinking and his nature. He had a in the discourse, a sympathizing Englishman with a squeaking voice interrupted with the question, ' Mr. Alcott, a lady near me desires to inquire whether omnipotence abnegates attribute ? ' " 1 See Cabot, Vol. II., pp. 60-64. 206 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 187b. seraph's vision for "the ever-blessed One." But the many, the concrete, the actual, often very far from blessed, were not sufficiently real and present to him. The high serenity of his mood, the almost angelic purity of his nature, have of course their peculiar help- fulness and inspiration for us of grosser clay. But on the whole Emerson would draw us skyward more pow- erfully if he himself did not ascend quite so easily. If he had looked more steadily at life in its totality, we should feel more confidence in his idealistic interpreta- tion of it. If he had been more fully a man of like passions with ourselves, and yet had risen splendidly victorious over the world, the flesh, and the devil, he could then have helped us, not as angels help poor mortals, but as brother helpeth brother. Emerson's manner and style have great merit for the work to which he put them. He did not aim at a logi- cal and continuous development of thought. He desired rather to flash into the mind a few great ideas and then make brief, suggestive applications of them to character and life. For this purpose, short, pithy sentences were better adapted than sentences more complete in thought and of smoother flow; while logical coherence of sen- tence to sentence, and of paragraph to paragraph, was not essential, and perhaps not desirable, in writings in- tended chiefly to arouse and stimulate. The fact that these essays on abstract subjects were first designed as popular lectures, in which each paragraph and almost every sentence must contain something to hold the at- tention, also tended to the development of the parts at the expense of structure in the whole. It is probable, however, that Emerson's type of mind would in any RALPH WALDO EMERSON. 207 event have produced results much the same. His mind was intuitive, not logical; and the thoughts which came to him were not links in a chain, but separate rays from a central sun. 1 It is easy, however, to exaggerate the degree of incoherence in Emerson's writings. His first book, Nature, is orderly enough in the parts and in the whole, being the most systematic and clearest exposition of his fundamental thought. The addresses, also, have sufficient method and a more fluent style. And even the essays, as some one has said, "do not read back- ward." But Emerson's gift was in the word, the phrase, and the single sentence, not in the larger wholes. Mat- thew Arnold was certainly right in saying that Emerson was "not a great writer," that "his style has not the requisite wholeness of good tissue." 2 But he could at least coin phrases that startle and pierce and carry high thoughts deep into heart and brain. It is both praise and blame of Emerson's poetry to say that it is much like his prose. The thought, par- ticularly in the philosophical poems, is often identical with that in the essays, and sometimes even the lan- guage is very similar. 3 The nature poems show the 1 " His practice was, when a sentence had taken shape, to write it out in his journal, and leave it to find its fellows afterward. These journals, paged and indexed, were the quarry from which he built his lectures and essays. When he had a paper to get ready, he took the material collected under the particular heading, and added whatever suggested itself at the moment." — Cabot, Vol. I., p. 294. 2 Emerson, in Discourses in America. 3 Compare Each and All with " Nothing is quite beautiful alone " {Nature, Chap. III.) ; Brahma, with " The act of seeing and the thing seen, the seer and the spectacle, the subject and the object, are one " {The Over-Soul} ; Merlin with the essay The Poet ; Days with "They come and go like muffled and veiled figures; . . . they say nothing; and if we do not use the gifts they bring, they carry them as silently away " 208 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. same keen observation of natural objects, and the same fresh delight in them, as appear in many prose pas- sages; and frequently they express or imply the ideal- istic philosophy of the relations of nature to God and man. In poems on the conduct of life, as Good-Bye, Forbearance, *JDays, and Terminus, are seen the same serenity, delicacy, and good sense as in the ethical and practical essays. /The historical and political addresses have their poetical counterparts in the hymns. and odes composed for various public occasions. In the poems as a whole there is also the same lack of passion, per- sonality, and structural unity — a lack far more serious in poetry than in prose. There is furthermore a marked deficiency of music and ease. Verse does not seem to have been a natural mode of expression for Emerson; even in that easiest of metres in which he habitually wrote, rhythm and rhyme were often secured only by awkward inversions and compressions. But occasion- ally, as in the^ Concord Hymn and Days, he wrote poems of admirable wholeness and unity, as fine in expression as in thought/ And many of the poems less successful as wholes are strewn thick with individual lines and stanzas that reveal a remarkable gift in phrase- making. For sententiousness in verse Emerson has no equal among English-speaking poets of the nineteenth century. 1 The fame and influence of the "sage of Concord " have suffered some diminution since his prime, but much ( Works and Days) ; The Sphinx, The Problem, Wood-Notes, etc., with Emerson's philosophy of God, Nature, and Man. 1 See particularly The Problem, The Rhodora, The Humble-Dee, Th* Snow-Storm % Threnody, Concord Hymn, and Voluntaries. MINOR TRANSCENDENTALISTS. 209 yet remains and will remain. He was not one of the world's great intellects or great writers, but he was one of its great and high souls; in Matthew Arnold's phrase, " the friend and aider of those who would live in the spirit," 1 and as such he must be reckoned among the most powerful forces of the century. Because of his spiritual charm he has justly been likened to Cardinal Newman. But the immense difference between the two men at one point is really more significant. Newman's beautiful soul drew its nourishment from a faith based on authority and the Past; Emerson's rested on intui- tion in the Present. A judgment as to the intrinsic superiority of either type of faith would be out of place in these pages; but it may with propriety be said that the second is more in accord with the Time-Spirit, and therefore more helpful to many souls in this age of transition and doubt. In fact it is probably Emerson's greatest service to his country and his time that he demonstrated in his own person the possibility of com- bining the intellect of the rationalist with the spiritu- ality of the saint. 2 Amos Bronson Alcott (i 799-1888), a native of Con- necticut but long resident in or near Boston and Con- cord, was for many years prominent in Transcendental circles. He had the reputation of being a wonderful talker on philosophical themes, although his friends admitted that he could not adequately express himself in print. 3 Nowadays it is difficult wholly to escape the 1 Emerson, in Discourses in America. 2 See the last paragraph of Worship (in The Conduct of Li/e),fot Emerson's idea of the religion of the future. 3 See Appendix, D, for the titles of his principal books. P 210 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. suspicion that Mr. Alcott came perilously near being a cha rlatan in philosophy without knowing it. Sarah Margaret Fuller Ossoli (1810-1850) was for a time editor of The Dial, the short-lived organ of Transcen- dentalism; in 1846 she became the literary critic of The New York Tribune; two years later she went to Europe, where she married the Marquis Ossoli and devotedly nursed the wounded in the Italian revolution of 1849; together with her husband and child, she met death by shipwreck while returning to America. Her brilliant intellect and ardent temperament did not find full expression in her writings; l but she was a consider- able power in her day, and is still an interesting though somewhat pathetic figure in the history of American letters. Jones Very (1813-1880), an unordained Uni- tarian clergyman and one of Emerson's most valued friends, had in him an eccentric streak amounting al- most to insanity; but his Poems and Essays (1839) reveal an original and intensely spiritual nature, and an unusual gift of terse, fresh, direct expression within a limited field. The genius of * Henry David Thoreau 2 was not pri- 1 Woman in the Nineteenth Century, 1844 ; Papers on Literature and Art, 1846; Memoirs, 1851 ; etc. 2 LIFE. Born in Concord, Mass., July 12, 1817 ; of French descent on the paternal side; attended schools in Boston and Concord; in Harvard College, 1833-1837 ; taught school during his vacations, and in Concord Academy in 1838 ; at intervals assisted in his father's busi- ness of pencil-making; for many years a land surveyor; after his father's death, in 1857, carried on the pencil business for the benefit of his mother and sister; because of consumption went to Minnesota in 1861 ; died in Concord, May 6, 1862. Works. A Week on the Concord and Merrimac Rivers, 1849. Walden, 1854. Excursions, 1863. The Maine Woods, 1864. Cape Cod, 1865. Letters, 1865. A Yankee in Canada, 1866. Early Spring HENRY DAVID THOREAU. 211 marily literary, yet he has a secure niche in American literature. Even in boyhood he showed a marked love of nature. At Harvard he was "far from distinguished as a scholar," and was thought to be "of an unsocial disposition." 1 The year after his return to Concord, he refused, at the risk of imprisonment, to pay the church tax which was still levied by the parish. In this protest against the union of Church and State, made soon after he came under the personal influence of Emerson, may perhaps be seen an instance of the zeal of the disciple outrunning the discretion of the master. Thoreau was even accused of imitating Emerson's tone and manner. There is no doubt that he was profoundly influenced by the greater nature, but his personality and writings as a whole are certainly a very original kind of imitation. Henceforth Thoreau' s manner of life was extremely independent. He never married, 2 and his own few and simple wants were easily supplied. His time was, therefore, largely free for that outdoor study of nature in which he most delighted, and for considerable liter- ary labor. His residence in a hut on the shore of Walden Pond, in 1845-1847, has often been misinter- preted and made too much of. It was only an episode in his life, and he never meant to preach by it that all men should live in huts or that civilization is a mis- in Massachusetts, 1881. Summer, 1884. Winter, 1887. Autumn, 1892. Many magazine articles (in The Dial, Putnam s Magazine, The Atlantic Monthly, etc.), containing a good deal of the subject-matter in the above volumes, appeared during Thoreau's lifetime. 1 R. W. Emerson, by D. G. Haskins, as quoted in H. S. Salt's life of Thoreau, pp. 25, 26 (Great Writers Series). 2 There is a story that Thoreau loved a Miss Sewall, but resigned his hopes in his brother's favor, the lady finally marrying another after all. Thoreau's poem Sympathy is thought to refer to Miss Sewall. 212 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. take. Rather it was a demonstration, first to himself and then to others, that man's happiness and higher life are not dependent upon luxuries nor even upon external refinements. Thoreau did believe that men would be the better for living more simply and closer to nature; but he was no cynic nor hermit. His seri- ous literary life began with his diary in 1837. His first poems were composed soon after. In 1838, and nearly every year afterward, he lectured in the Concord lyceum. To The Dial he contributed poems and essays, and from about the year 1849 he looked upon writing and lec- turing as his regular occupation. He was ardent in the anti-slavery cause, suffering imprisonment in the Concord jail for one night, in 1845, rather than pay taxes under a government that was waging the pro- slavery Mexican War; and his lecture on John Brown, delivered in Concord on October 30, 1859, and repeated in Boston five days later, before a large audience, is said to have been the first public utterance on behalf of that noble fanatic. Thoreau's work was now almost done. A severe cold developed an inherited tendency to consump- tion, which could not be stayed by residence in Minne- sota; he returned to Concord only to die, his last words, characteristically enough, being "moose "and "Indian." Thoreau's "whole figure," said one who knew him well, "had an active earnestness, as if he had no moment to waste." 1 He seldom used flesh, wine, tea, or coffee. He desired, he said, to live "as tenderly and daintily as one would pluck a flower." 2 His senses were extraordinarily keen, and his entire nature was of 1 Thoreau, the Poet-Naturalist, by Ellery Channing, as quoted by bait, pp. 86, 87. 2 Salt, p. 89. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 215 extreme delicacy and purity, even to vestal coldness. "I love Henry," said a friend, "but I cannot like him; and as for taking his arm, I should as soon think of taking the arm of an elm tree." 1 Yet he was capable of true and high friendship, and even the reserved and sensitive Hawthorne gladly spent many hours in his company. His writings cleave so closely to the man that they can hardly be studied wholly apart, nor is it necessary so to consider them at length here. What is most remarkable in them is their wild "tang," the subtlety and the penetrative quality of their imaginative sympathy with the things of field, forest, and stream. The minuteness, accuracy, and delicacy of the observa- tion and feeling are remarkable; while mysticism, fancy, poetic beauty, and a vein of shrewd humor often com- bine with the other qualities to make a whole whose effect is unique. Thoreau's verse is much like Emer- son^ on a smaller scale and a lower plane, having the same technical faults and occasionally the same pierc- ing felicity of phrase. On the whole, Thoreau must be classed with the minor American authors; but there is no one just like him, and the flavor of his best work is exceedingly fine. 2 Like so many other American authors, Nathaniel Hawthorne 3 was descended from the earliest settlers of 1 Salt, p. 90. Cf. Thoreau's ideal of love and friendship, in Early Spring in Massachusetts. 2 Excursions contains some of his finest works. See, particularly. Wild Apples, Autumnal Tints, Walking, Night and Moonlight, and A Walk to Wachusett. 3 LIFE. Born in Salem, Mass., July 4, 1804. Father died, 1808. Educated at an uncle's expense in private schools ; by a tutor ; and at Bowdoin College, 1821-1825. In Salem, writing stories for magazines, 1825-1839, with excursions to the lakes, New York, Maine, etc. Editor **4 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. New England. Major William Hawthorne came to Boston in 1630, and was long prominent in the colony as Indian fighter, persecutor of the Quakers, and speaker of the legislature. The novelist's grandfather and father were sea-captains, the former, "Bold Daniel" Haw- thorne, commanding a privateer during the Revolution- ary War. On his mother's side Hawthorne was descended from the Mannings, who came to New England in 1676; they were a vigorous and long-lived race. With such ancestry it would be strange if the romancer had been the delicate, morbid being whom many readers sup- posed him to be; but he was far from that. His boy- of American Magazine of Useful and Entertaining Knowledge, 1836- 1838. Engaged to Sophia A. Peabody, 1838. Weigher and gauger in Boston Custom House, 1839-1841. At Brook Farm, 1841. Married, 1842; three children were born to him. In the Old Manse, Concord, Mass., 1842-1846. Surveyor of Customs, Salem, 1846-1849. In Lenox, Mass., 1850-1851; in West Newton, Mass., 1851-1852; in Concord, having bought the "Wayside" House, 1852-1853. Consul at Liver- pool, 1853-1857. In Italy, 1858-1859. In England, 1859-1860. At the Wayside, 1860-1864. Died at Plymouth, N. H., May 18, 1864; buried at Concord. A Unitarian. Works. Fanshawe, 1828. Stories and articles (many afterward reprinted in Twice-Told Tales, etc.) in the magazines, 1831-1862. Twice-Told Tales, First Series, 1837; Second Series, 1842. Grand- father's Chair, 1841. Famous Old People (second part of Grandfather's Chair), 1841. Liberty Tree (third part of Grandfather's Chair), 1842. Biographical Stories for Children, 1842. Mosses from an Old Manse, 1846. The Scarlet Letter, 1850. The House of the Seven Gables, 1851. True Stories from History and Biography (Grandfather's Chair and Biographical Stories), 1851. A Wonder-Book, 1851. The Snow Image and Other Tales, 1851. The Blithedale Romance, 1852. Life of Franklin Pierce, 1852. Tanglewood Tales, being a second Wonder- Book, 1853. The Marble Faun (=The Transformation), i860. Our Old Home, 1863. The Dolliver Romance: first part, in The Atlantic Monthly, 1864; three parts, 1876. American Note-Books, 1868. English Note-Books, 1870. French and Italian Note-Books, 1872. Septimius Felton, 1872. Dr. Grimshawe's Secret, 1883. Hawthorne's First Diary [his son douuts its genuineness], 1897. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 215 hood was normal enough, except that his mother thought fit, as a young widow, to live a secluded life for many years. At college, so far from being a recluse, he was decidedly convivial, although his native fineness and balance kept him from overstepping the boundary be- tween freedom and license. Physically he was an ath- letic Apollo. 1 During the first period of his authorship, in Salem, he indeed lived the life of a hermit. " For months together," he says, "I scarcely held human intercourse outside of my own family, seldom going out except at twilight, or only to take the nearest way to the most convenient solitude." 2 But he adds, " Once a year, or thereabouts, I used to make an excur- sion of a few weeks, in which I enjoyed as much of life 1 " Within certain limits he was facile, easy-going, convivial ; but beyond these limits he was no more to be moved than the Rock of Gibraltar or the North Pole. He played cards, had 'wines' in his room, and went off fishing and shooting with Bridge when the faculty thought he was at his books ; but he . . . never defrauded the college government of any duty which he thought they had a right to claim from him." " He was five feet ten and a half inches in height, broad- shouldered, but of a light, athletic build, not weighing more than one hundred and fifty pounds. His limbs were beautifully formed, and the moulding of his neck and throat was as fine as anything in antique sculpture. His hair, which had a long, curving wave in it, approached blackness in color; his head was large and grandly developed; his eyebrows were dark and heavy, with a superb arch and space beneath. His nose was straight, but the contour of his chin was Roman. . . . His eyes were large, dark blue, brilliant, and full of varied expression. Bayard Taylor used to say that they were the only eyes he had ever known flash fire. . . . His complexion was delicate and transparent, rather dark than light, with a ruddy tinge in the cheeks. . . . His hands were large and muscular. . . . Up to the time he was forty years old, he could clear a height of five feet at a standing jump. His voice, which was low and deep in ordinary conversation, had astounding volume when he chose to give full vent to it ; . . . it was not a bellow, but had the searching and electrifying quality of the blast of a trumpet." -"Hawthorne and his Wife, by Julian Hawthorne, Vol. I., pp. 120, I2l« 3 Hawthorne and His Wife, Vol. I., pp. 96, 97. 216 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. as other people do in the whole year's round. " And this solitude, peopled by the creations of his own im- agination, was probably best for him at that stage of his development. He at least believed so. 1 But he was at last drawn out of it. His first stories appeared in the magazines anonymously; 2 but after the publication of Twice-Told Tales, "I was compelled," he says, "to come out of my owl's nest and lionize in a small way." Soon afterward he met the noble woman who became his wife, and henceforth solitude of the harmful sort was impossible for him; his married life was ideal. 3 There was in Hawthorne, however, an undoubted tendency to excessive seclusion from the everyday world. He himself recognized the tendency and sought to counteract it by engaging in practical work from time to time. " I want to have something to do with this material world," he said, shortly before entering the Boston Custom House. 4 In all his official positions he was an excellent administrator, and when occasion demanded he displayed a vigor which showed that he could have walked the quarter-deck as masterfully 1 " Living in solitude till the fulness of time was come, I still kept the dew of my youth and the freshness of my heart." " My long seclusion had not made me melancholy or misanthropic; . . . and perhaps it was the kind of discipline which my idiosyncrasy demanded, and chance and my own instincts, operating together, had caused me to do what was fittest." — Hawthorne and his Wife, Vol. I., pp. 92, 98. 2 The Token, The New England Magazine, The Knickerbocker, and other periodicals were glad to get his tales. For the early stories he received $35 apiece. 8 " Thou art the only person in the world that ever was necessary to me. ... I think I was always more at ease alone than in anybody's company till I knew thee. And now I am only myself when thou art within my reach." — Letter to his wife, July 5, 1848. 4 See also the introduction to The Scarlet Letter. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 217 as any of his seafaring ancestors. 1 Perhaps the same instinct urged him to enter the Brook Farm community and engage for a few months in manual labor in the open air. But his healthy scepticism as to the more soaring aspects of the scheme appears from the first in his references to Margaret Fuller's "Transcendental heifer" that "hooks the other cows"; and before long he realized that he was altogether out of his element. 2 During his residence in Concord, Hawthorne came to enjoy the companionship of Thoreau, Emerson, Mar- garet Fuller, Ellery Channing, and other literati, al- though he never had any special liking for "literary persons." He liked to associate with men of all sorts; he studied them keenly, almost coldly, and his nature was so large and his imagination so mobile that he could adapt himself to widely different persons, reveal- ing to each so much of himself as each could appreciate — and no more. 3 Hawthorne's residence in England 1 " Placid, peaceful, calm, and retiring as he was in all the ordinary events of life, he was tempestuous and irresistible when roused. An attempt on the part of a rough and overbearing sea-captain to interfere with his business as an inspector of customs [at Salem] . . . was met with such a terrific uprising of spiritual and physical wrath that the dismayed captain fled up the wharf and took refuge in the office, inquir- ing, ' What in God's name have you sent on board my ship as an inspector? ' I have known no man more impressive, none in whom the great reposing strength seemed clad in such a robe of sweetness." — Letter by G. B. Loring, in Conway's life of Hawthorne, p. 106. 2 " Is it a praiseworthy matter that I have spent five golden months in providing food for cows and horses? It is not so." — A)7ierican Note-Books, August 12, 1841. 3 "Thus, if he chatted with a group of rude sea-captains in the smoking-room of Mrs. Blodgett's boarding-house, or joined a knot of boon companions in a Boston bar-room, or talked metaphysics with Herman Melville on the hills of Berkshire, he would aim to appear in each instance a man like they were." — Hawthorne and his Wife, Vol. I., pp. 88, 89. 218 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. did not do much for him as a man or an artist. Unfor- tunately he shared the lingering anti-English prejudice of many of his countrymen, and he met very few of the greatest men of letters. Thackeray, Dickens, " George Eliot," Tennyson, Carlyle, Mill, and most of the other persons who, as Mr. Conway has said, "might have made his sojourn a cosmopolitan education," remained strangers to him. In Italy he fared better, drinking in eagerly the beauty of her nature and her art, and asso- ciating freely with eminent artists. But his race was now almost run. Soon after his return to America his superb health began to fail; there was no specific dis- ease, but a general decline. His last literary tasks fell from his hands unfinished. He sought new strength in a journey through northern New England, in com- pany with * his college friend, ex-President Pierce; but it was soon ended by his entrance upon a longer jour- ney, whence there is no returning. At the inn, where they had stopped for the night, Hawthorne quietly passed away in sleep. 11 He is so simple, so transparent, so just, so tender, so magnanimous," wrote his wife, "that my highest instinct could only correspond with his will. I never knew such delicacy of nature. . . . Was ever such a union of power and gentleness, softness and spirit, pas- sion and reason? . . . My dearest Love waits upon God like a child." 1 His relations with his children were as charming as one would expect them to be, which is saying much. He was their companion — play- ful, imaginative, just, indulgent without weakness. Haw- thorne was always shy in general society, although less so 1 Hawthorne 2nd his Wife, Vol. I., p. 273. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 219 in his last years. But "with a single companion his talk flowed on sensibly, and quietly, and full of wisdom and shrewdness; he discussed books with wonderful acuteness, sometimes with startling power; he analyzed men, their characters, and motives, and capacity, with great penetration." 1 His best season for composition was the winter, and his best part of the day the morn- ing ; when once fairly started he worked very regularly. While lost in thought he sometimes did things dreadful to the mind of the well-regulated housekeeper, wiping his pen upon the lining of his lovely dressing-gown, cutting up the sleeve of a new shirt with the scissors, and whittling completely away one of the leaves of his writing-table. But these are the privileges of genius. Hawthorne's Life of Franklin Pierce ', the price paid for a consulship and residence abroad, shows at least the practical side of this dreamy romancer and his loyalty to an old college friend. Children, young and old, cannot regret that in Grandfather's Chair, Biographical Stories, A Wonder Book , Tanglewood Tales, etc., he turned aside from pure fiction to lend his charm of style and fancy to the illumination of history and myth. Our Old Home is biased and inadequate as a description of the English people; but it does tell some truths that perhaps needed to be told, and we know Hawthorne the better for it, especially his limitations and a certain trenchant inde- pendence. The Note-Books, besides having many pas- sages of intrinsic interest, are windows through which one may look into the life of the man and the artist. Twice-Told Tales and * Mosses from an Old Manse y although they did not bring him wide fame, contain some 1 G. B. Loring, quoted in Conway's life of Hawthorne, p. 107, 220 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. of Hawthorne's most characteristic work. In beauty of style, in delicate fancy playing on the borderland of the natural and the supernatural, in sombre imagination, and in wedding of the moral to the spectral, he never did anything essentially better, page for page, than "The Snow-Image, " "Lady Eleanore's Mantle," "Young Goodman Brown," and many other of these pieces, among which every reader has his own favorites. Some of them are comparatively crude, manifestly the work of an apprentice hand; and still others, as "The Min- ister's Hack Veil" and "J)r. Heidegger's Experiment," have, as preliminary studies for the romances, an inter- est which they would not otherwise possess. Certain phases of Hawthorne's mind, however, are better illus- trated here than in the longer works. His kindly, broad-souled, fine-tempered interest in humanity appears more explicitly, at least, in such sketches as "A Rill from the Town Pump," "Sunday at Home," and "The Procession of Life." His satiric powers, also, are given freer rein. In "Mrs. Bullfrog" the satire is broad and comparatively commonplace; in "The Celestial Rail- road" it enters the world of current religion; in " Feathertop " it is imaginatively combined with the uncanny and the grotesquely pathetic. In "Buds and Bird- Voices" and in "The Old Manse" one sees at their best the poet novelist's minute knowledge and deli- cately luxurious love of Lature, with exquisite interplay ix y, tenderness, and humor. Hawthorne's youthful romance, Fanshawe % was a fail- ure. In wholeness and depth of impression The Scarlet Letter, the first of the successful romances, is also the best; as a picture of the inner life of the New England NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 221 Puritans, together with a study of the effects of sin upon the soul, it stands quite alone in American literature for truth, depth, and subtlety. The House of the Seven Gables is slighter and more playful, the most domestic of Hawthorne's novels, and for that reason has a pecul- iarly gentle charm. The Blithedale Romance was not intended to be a truthful picture of the Brook Farm community, although it was manifestly suggested by that Transcendental Utopia ; and its purely imaginative value is slight. The Marble Faun, Hawthorne's second great creation, showed, however, that his spiritual eye was not yet dimmed nor his imaginative force abated; in unity, intensity, and tragic power it is inferior to The Scarlet Letter, but it is superior in sweep of thought and in' ideal beauty. Of the posthumous romances, Sep- ti?nius Felton and The Dolliver Romance seem to indi- cate some falling off in imaginative power, even after allowance is made for their unfinished state. Doctor Grimshawe's Secret, in the form in which we have it, is unsuccessful in its attempt to combine scenes in the New World with scenes in the Old, and the latter are marred by much irrelevant discussion of the character- istics of England; yet the portrayal of the grim old doctor and the description of the secret chamber are unsurpassed by anything in Hawthorne's pages, and bring a keen realization of the loss which American lit- erature sustained in the premature death of its chief magician. In the introduction to The Scarlet Letter, Hawthorne has, with charming self -mockery, imagined his grim ancestors' scorn for him as a "writer of story-books"; he was, nevertheless, as deeply moral and spiritual as 222 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. the noblest of the Puritans, as profoundly interested in the problems of sin, the soul, and the supernatural. But he was an artist, approaching moral and spiritual realities from the side of the imagination. He did not think in sermons but in pictures. He taught no catechism, formulated no creed or philosophy : instead, he looked into Roger Chillingworth's soul and saw slow revenge doing its hideous work there, like a cancer; he beheld Donatello startled by impulsive crime into a higher life; he created Hilda, that spiritual lily, whose very exist- ence is an argument for God and immortality and to whom the stain even of another's sin is agony. As an artist Hawthorne belongs with the idealists; and the phase of the ideal which most fascinated him was the supernatural. 1 For an American novelist of this type the range of themes was very limited. It was almost inevitable that Hawthorne should turn to the early history of the colonies, around which time had already thrown some halo of romance; to the gloomy superstition of witchcraft, whose most terrible memories were connected with his native village; and to the allied arts of alchemy and magic pharmacy, the pursuit of which could easily be transferred to the shores of the New World. Even in handling more modern and realistic material, in The House of the Seven Gables, he paints in a background of witchcraft, ancestral wrong, and hereditary curse. The Blithedale Romance is a comparative failure for the lack of such a background. 1 The influence of heredity may be traced pretty plainly here. Haw- thorne's sea-faring ancestors doubtless shared the superstitious tenden- cies of their class ; and the ghosts of the witches who were so vigorously persecuted by the second of his' line in America evidently returned to taunt the descendant of their tormentor. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 223 In The Marble Faun the romancer escapes from the realm of the Christian supernatural only to take refuge in the pagan and in the world of Italian art. The posthumous works return, for the most part, to the regions of magic and mystery. Hawthorne had also, however, a keen eye for the facts of the external world. The American Note-Books reveal an almost microscopic observation of nature; the description of the finding of Zenobia's body, in The Blithedale Romance, is painfully realistic; 1 many of the descriptions in The Marble Faun are transferred, with only trifling changes, from the Italian Note-Books ; and the introduction to The Scarlet Letter shows how shrewdly this spinner of gossamer fan- cies read the character of his prosaic associates in the Salem custom-house. 2 This vivid sense of two worlds, working with his poetic instinct to express the spiritual by the material, the inner by the outer, resulted in one conspicuous feature of Hawthorne's method, that symbolism in which his tales and novels abound and by which he produces some of his most magical effects. The scarlet letter, the old house of the seven gables, the flower in Zenobia's hair, Hilda's doves, Doctor Grimshawe's monstrous spider, with many other symbolic objects and incidents, will occur to every one; and the reader attentive to this point knows into what minutiae the symbolism is some- times carried. In places, indeed, and in the total effect, it only just avoids the forced and the unnatural; 1 It is based upon fact; see Nathaniel Hawthorne and His Wife, Vol. I., p. 296. 2 See also the many lifelike and even homely details in The House of the Seven Gables, particularly the portrait of Uncle Venner and the talk of the working-men about the vicissitudes of cent-shops. 224 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 TO 1870. but it does avoid them, owing to a delicate and sugges- tive manner and to the fanciful, ideal tone of the romances as wholes, which allows of the introduction of more symbolism than would be permissible in realistic novels. 1 Another phase of Hawthorne's method may, perhaps, be traced in part to the same source. Again and again he opposes to each other two characters which in one way or another represent the two sides of reality. Hester and Dimmesdale are both sinful; but the former's nature is the more earthly, although the stronger and richer; the latter's is the more spiritual. Judge Pyncheon, gross and practical, is set over against the aesthetically exquisite Clifford. The florid luxuriance of Zenobia's being is contrasted with the pallid ethereal- ness of Priscilla's. Miriam and Hilda present a similar contrast, although the latter, combining delicacy with great spiritual power, is a much higher conception than the negative Priscilla. Colcord is of the same type as Clifford, only moral instead of aesthetic, his frail and gentle figure standing out in lines of air and light against the black, burly form of Doctor Grimshawe, in whom good and evil struggle together, each a shaggy Titan. This constant opposition of characters must, however, have been due, in part, to a merely artistic sense of the value of contrast and variety. Hence came also, no doubt, Hawthorne's practice of relieving the gloom by characters such as Phcebe, who is like a ray of sunshine let into the dark old house of the seven gables, or by 1 In giving the lightning the shape of the scarlet letter, Hawthorne has perhaps exceeded the limits even for a fanciful romance. One wishes, at least, that he had allowed no one but the conscience-stricken Dimmesdale to detect the resemblance. NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. 225 young children, as in The Scarlet Letter, The Dolliver Romance, and Doctor Grimshawe } s Secret, where their frolic Hfe and flower-like beauty soften yet heighten the effects of age and guilt. Hawthorne's art, in other ways also, is of very high quality. An English critic not given to overpraise says, " It is impossible to speak too highly of Hawthorne's style." : . Its purity, delicate precision, and poetic beauty of sound and movement are not only a rare pleasure in themselves, but peculiarly effective, and indeed neces- sary, in romances so imaginative and ideal. Hawthorne's plots, except in The Scarlet Letter, are deficient in coherence and climax; yet all contain thrilling situa- tions, and serve well their main purpose of furnishing a narrative framework for the study of the characters and "the thoughtful moral." 2 His handling of the magical and the supernatural is wonderfully artful. Writing for a practical and even sceptical generation, in a country where, as he himself said, there was nothing but "a commonplace prosperity, in broad and simple day- light," 3 he yet gains our imaginative credence for witch- craft, the elixir of life, and divers other superannuated marvels. The inner secrets of this verbal wizardry lie below the plummet of analysis, deep in the very centre of the magician's gift of imagination and expression ; but some of the means lie nearer the surface. In one way or another a more or less remote, mystical, or poetical background is usually secured, either in early 1 John Nichol, in his American Literature, p. 329. 2 Hawthorne's description of The Marble Faun (in the Preface) as " a fanciful story, evolving a thoughtful moral," applies nearly as well to any of his romances. 3 Preface to The Marble Faun. Q 226 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. colonial times, or, in one instance, in romantic Italy, which the author himself says " was chiefly valuable to him as affording a sort of poetic or fairy precinct, where actualities would not be so terribly insisted upon." 1 Again, with or without such a background, we are led up to the marvel by a series of gentle steps : first a mere rumor, fancy, or half -mocking jest; then, it may be, some slight confirmatory piece of evidence, laughingly withdrawn before it can be closely examined; next, a sly advance under cover of the very scepticism by which our reason has just been reassured; until finally we find ourselves, we hardly know how, face to face with the monster, who now seems not so very strange after all. 2 In its broad relations, Hawthorne's work is a part of the Romantic movement in modern literature, having close affinities with and some indebtedness to the European fiction of mystery and terror, to the poetry of Blake, Coleridge, and Shelley, and to the writings of his coun- trymen, Brown and Poe. But he is also original and unique. He alone made the utmost of the scant mate- rials furnished by New England life for the romance of magic and the supernatural; and he has no equal in combining these forms of the imaginative with the moral and spiritual. Poe's tales have at their best a brilliant intensity which one nowhere finds in Hawthorne. But the latter is greatly superior in evenness of workmanship, in constructive power on a large scale, in range of sub- 1 Preface to The Marble Faun. a See The Snow Image lor one of the most skilful of these graduated transitions : children playing in the snow at one end of the process ; a snow-maiden running around in the dusky garden, at the other end ; and no perceptible shock or jar where the natural glides into the preter- natural. * JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 22; jects, in knowledge of human nature and ability to de- lineate character, in moral and spiritual elevation, and in sanity of soul. For, in spite of his tendency to uncanny subjects, Hawthorne was healthy in mind as in body. It is a superficial and commonplace view which sees a morbid nature in the creator of Phcebe and Kenyon and Hilda and the children who dance through Hawthorne's pages like incarnations of health and sun- shine. If at other times he walks in dark and strange places, it is not with the hectic feverishness of Hoff- mann nor the morbid gloom of Poe, but with the noble curiosity of an imaginative and spiritual nature, as sane as it is exquisitely sensitive, peering into deep, dim mysteries, speculating boldly upon high problems, yet maintaining always a hold upon the normal and a whole- some moral balance. Hawthorne knew well enough his own limitations — the limitations of idealism. 1 But within his range he was one of the finest natures that have manifested themselves in letters, the greatest artist in American literature, and among the few great literary artists of his century. John Greenleaf Whittier's 2 earliest ancestor in 1 " The page of life that was spread out before me [in the Salem custom-house] seemed dull and commonplace only because I had not fathomed its deeper import. A better book than I shall ever write was there." — Introduction to The Scarlet Letter. 2 LIFE. Born in Haverhill, Mass., Dec. 17, 1807. Attended district school; in Haverhill Academy, 1827-1828; taught school in winter of 1827-1828. Edited The American Manufacturer, Boston, 1828-1829; The Gazette, Haverhill, 1830; The New England Review, Hartford, 1830-1831 ; appointed delegate to the Whig national convention, 1831. Lived on his Haverhill farm, 1832-1836; delegate to Anti-Slavery na- tional convention, 1833; mobbed in Concord, N. H., by anti-abolition- ists, 1835 I representative from Haverhill in Massachusetts legislature. 1835. Removed to Amesbury, Mass., 1836. Edited The Gazette, Haver* 228 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. America was Thomas Whittier, an Englishman, supposed to be of Huguenot descent, who settled in what is now Amesbury, Mass., in 1638, removing nine years later to Haverhill. His youngest son married a Quakeress; and their descendants, of whom the poet was one, were bill, 1836. A secretary, in New York, of the Anti-Slavery Society, 1837. Edited The National Enquirer (in 1838 it became The Pennsylvania Free- matz), 1837-1840. Lived chiefly at Amesbury, 1840-1892. Edited The Middlesex Standard, Lowell, 1844; virtually edited The Essex Tran- script, Amesbury, 1844-1846; corresponding editor of The National Era, Washington, 1847-1860; assisted in starting The Atlantic Monthly, 1857. Elected an overseer of Harvard College, 1858; received from Harvard the degree of LL.D., 1866; elected a trustee of Brown Uni- versity, 1869. Died at Hampton Falls, N. H., Sept. 7, 1892; buried at Amesbury. A Quaker. Works. Legends of New England, 1831. Moll Pitcher, 1832. Justice and Expediency; or, Slavery considered with a View to its Rightful and Effectual Remedy, Abolition, 1833. Mogg Megone, 1836. Poems written during the Progress of the Abolition Question, 1837. Poems, 1838. Moll Pitcher, and the Minstrel Girl (revised edition), 1840. Lays of my Home and other Poems, 1843. Miscellaneous Poems, 1844. The Stranger in Lowell, 1845. Voices of Freedom (fourth edition), 1846. The Supernaturalism of New England, 1847. Poems, 1849. Leaves from Margaret Smith's Journal in the Province of Massachusetts Bay (1678-1679), 1849. Political Works (London), 1850. Songs of Labor, and Other Poems, 1850. Old Portraits and Modern Sketches, 1850. Little Eva, 1852. The Chapel of the Her- mits, and Other Poems, 1853. A Sabbath Scene, 1853. Literary Rec- reations and Miscellanies, 1854. The Panorama, and Other Poems, 1856. Political Works, 1857. The Sycamores, 1857. Home Ballads and Poems, i860. In War Time, and Other Poems, 1863. National Lyrics, 1865. (Snow-Bound, 1866. Prose Works, 1866. Maud Muller, 1867; appeared first in The National Era, 1854. The Tent on the Beach, and Other Poems, 1867. Among the Hills, and Other Poems, 1867. Ballads of New England, 1870. Miriam and Other Poems, 1871. The Pennsylvania Pilgrim, and Other Poems, 1872. Mabel Martin, and Other Poems, 1874. Hazel Blossoms, 1875. The Vision of Echard, and Other Poems, 1878. The King's Missive, and Other Poems, 1881. The Bay of Seven Islands, and Other Poems, 1883. Poems of Nature, 1886. Saint Gregory's Guess, and Recent Poems, 1886. At Sundown (pri- vately printed), 1890; with a few additional poems, 1892. Very many of Whittier's poems appeared first in newspapers and magazines. JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 229 nearly all Friends. Whittier's mother was descended from Rev. Stephen Bachiler, a clergyman of the Eng- lish Church, who became a non-conformist and finally removed to Massachusetts in 1632; he was a remarkable man; "it was the Bachiler eye, dark, deep-set, lustrous, which marked the cousinship that existed between Daniel Webster and John Greenleaf Whittier." 1 The latter was born in the house built by Thomas Whittier in 1688 and occupied ever since by his descendants. The old homestead, where the poet spent his early years, was a typical New England farm, having " low green mead- ows, picturesque with wooded islands " ; 2 upland pastures, with the huckleberry bushes and old gray rocks so dear to the memory of every New Englander; and "a small brook, noisy enough as it foamed, rippled, and laughed down its rocky falls." 2 He thus came naturally by his distinction as the poet of rural New England. New England was born in his blood, breathed in with every breath of his childhood and youth. 3 His health being delicate, only the lighter kinds of farm work were re- quired of him, and he had the more time for indulging his strong taste for books. The thirty odd volumes in his home were read and re-read. When he was but a lad of fourteen, the loan of Burns' s poems set the Ameri- can Burns to writing verses too. 4 About the same time 1 Pickard's life of Whittier, Vol. I., p. 12. 2 Whittier, in The Fish I didn't Catch. 3 From his uncle Moses, a man " wise in the traditions of the family and neighborhood," he heard, " as they worked together in the fields, or sat by the evening fireside, . . . marvelous stories of the denizens of the forest and stream, traditions of witchcraft, and tales of strange hap- penings." — Pickard, Vol. I., p. 32. 4 " It is a tradition that his first verses were written upon the beam of his mother's loom." " His schoolmates say he was in the habit of 230 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. he bought Shakspere's plays, and a Waverley novel fell into his hands, the latter being read in secret for fear that his parents would disapprove. Whittier's father, the practical, laconic man portrayed in Snow-Bound, dis- couraged his literary tendencies, but his mother secretly rejoiced over them, and his sister Mary openly encour- aged them. The sending of some of his poems to Garrison's Newbury port newspaper, The Free Press? led the editor to ride over to Haverhill to see the young poet, whom he urged to pursue his studies farther. To earn money for a half-year's expenses at the academy, Whittier worked all winter making slippers. 2 With another half-year at the academy his scholastic training ended. But, as his biographer says, this " was only the beginning of his student life; by wide and well-chosen reading he was constantly adding to his stores of in- formation; while revelling in the fields of English lit- erature, he became familiar through translations with ancient and current literature of other nations, and kept abreast of all political and reformatory movements." 3 He was a lover of books, and from the study in the house at Amesbury his "constantly increasing library . . . overflowed into nearly all the rooms." 4 covering his slate with rhymes, which were passed about from desk to desk." — Pickard, Vol. I., pp. 45, 46. 1 The first of Whittier's poems which appeared in it, in 1826, was sent secretly by this admirable sister Mary. " The paper came to him when he was . . . mending a stone wall by the roadside. . . . His heart stood still a moment when he saw his own verses. . . . He has said he was sure that he did not read a word of the poem all the time he looked at it." — Pickard, Voi. I., pp. 50, 51. 2 " He received but eight cents a pair for his work. . . . He calcu- lated so closely every item of expense that he knew before the begin- ning of the term that he would have twenty-five cents to spare at its close, and he actually had." — Pickard, Vol. I., p. 54. s Pickard. Vol. I., p. 72. 4 m& %% Vol. I., p. 160. JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 231 It has been generally forgotten or unknown that during the first few years of his manhood, although his interest in literature was deep and persistent, and hardly a week passed without the publication of a new poem, Whittier was chiefly occupied with politics and had strong political ambition. He edited very ably several party newspapers, 1 and he early discovered much skill as a practical politician. His frail health greatly hampered him, but what took him permanently out of the race for political honors was his espousal of the anti-slavery cause. He made the sacrifice deliberately, after a careful study of the whole ques- tion, and without the shallow optimism which allowed many abolitionists to expect speedy success. He became the poet of the anti-slavery cause. But he also aided it in many other ways, participating in party con- ventions, giving wise counsel to the more conspicuous leaders, and doing a vast amount of effective editorial work through many gloomy years. 2 Although the Quaker poet's inherited abhorrence of slavery was in- 1 The New England Review was the leading Whig organ in Con- necticut. 2 " He took men as he found them, encouraged them to go part way with him. ' Has thee found many saints or angels in thy dealings with either political party ? Do not expect too much of human nature.' He had a genius for coalitions, and could accept assistance from unfriendly sources. . . . He contributed [largely] to the election of Charles Sum- ner to the United States Senate, by holding the anti-slavery vote to a coalition distasteful to many of his followers, which gave to pro-slavery Democrats the governorship of Massachusetts and the principal state offices. . . . His was a familiar form in the lobby of the State House for many years. He was a shrewd judge of men, knew how to touch their weak points, and scrupled not to reach their consciences along the line of least resistance. . . . His keen sense of the ridiculous kept him from being in the least degree ' cranky ' in his philanthropy." — Pickard, Vui. I., pp. i38, 189, 191. 232 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. tense, his quarrel was with the system, not with indi- viduals; "all his life he numbered among his personal friends, not only apologists for slavery, but slaveholders themselves." 1 His labors on behalf of liberty taxed his feeble strength, and left little leisure or energy fo; purely literary work until near the end of the great con test. Most of the time he lived quietly upon his little estate at Amesbury, enjoying the friendship of many distinguished men, and deeply happy for many years in the companionship of his mother and his favorite sister Elizabeth. 2 In the last third of his life the sale of his poems banished all pecuniary care, 3 and the saintly old man made his prolonged descent into the vale of years in perfect peace. The celebration on his seventieth birthday, and again on his eightieth, eloquently testified how highly his countrymen esteemed the man and the poet. But, in spite of all, his solitude was deep. "Almost painful," wrote Elizabeth Phelps Ward, "is the picture which my heart carries of his patient and 1 Pickard, Vol. II., p. 502. 2 His mother died in 1857 ; his sister, in 1864. When asked why he had never married, he wrote: "Circumstances — the care of an aged mother, and the duty owed to a sister in delicate health for many years — must be my excuse for living the lonely life which has called out thy pity I know there has something very sweet and beautiful been missed, but I have no reason to complain." — Pickard, Vol. I., pp. 276, 277. Mr. Pickard says (p. 276) : " The poem [Memories] was written in 1841, and although the romance it embalms lies far back of this date, possibly there is a heart still beating which fully understands its mean- ing. The biographer can do no more than make this suggestion, which has the sanction of the poet's explicit word." He hints that the love " had been sacrificed to adverse circumstances." 3 Whittier got $10,000 from the sale of the first edition of Snoiv- Bound. Of The Tent on the Beach 20,000 copies were sold at the rate of about 1000 daily ; the poet thereupon wrote to his publisher, with characteristic modesty and humor, "This will never do; the swindle is awful ; Barnum is a saint to us." — Pickard, Vol. II., p. 512. JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 233 cheerful but heavy loneliness. . . . He seemed to me, beloved, nay, adored, as he was, and affectionately cared for, one of the loneliest men I ever knew." 1 From year to year he grew feebler. At last came a shock of paralysis, and he died peacefully in sleep. "He was a very handsome, distinguished-looking young man," wrote a lifelong friend. "He was tall, slight, and very erect; a bashful youth, but never awkward. . . . With intimate friends he talked a great deal, and in a wonderfully interesting manner. . . . He had a great deal of wit . . . and a marvellous store of information on many subjects." 2 Whittier was a very gentle man, but "it would be a mistake," says his biographer, "to suppose that gentleness was a necessity of his nature; it was in reality the result of resolute self-control and the habitual government of a tempestuous spirit." 3 But his spirit was also naturally loving, magnanimous, and sweet. Of his smile a friend said : " It is one of the sweetest smiles ever seen on the face of a man. ... In repose his face is almost stern, but when anything amuses him you see a light dance for an instant in his eyes 3 and then seem slowly to expand over his face, as a circling wave expands upon the sur- face of a placid pool. . . . He smiles frequently, too, for he is always awake to the humorous side of things, and you cannot entertain him in any way more certainly than by telling him bright, witty stories." 4 On his jus- tice, his generosity, his tenderness, his virgin purity of soul, his childlike yet profound trust in God, there is 1 The Century Magazine, January, 1893. 2 Mrs. Harriet M. Pitman, as quoted in Pickard, Vol. I., pp. 58, 59. 3 Pickard, Vol. II., p. 551. 4 Ibid., Vol. II., p. 556. 234 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. no need to dwell, for they envelop his pages like an atmosphere. Whittier's earliest verses show that he was, as he him- self has said, "a dreamer born," and that it was at some personal sacrifice that, in his anti-slavery poems, he . . . 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. 1 The Indian poems, Mogg Megone and The Bridal of Penacook, are failures however, the first shipwrecking on the Scylla of repulsive realism and the second on the Charybdis of a false idealism. 2 But Cassandra South- wick and The Exiles are promising for their imaginative and truthful handling of themes from colonial history. Voices of Freedom, and the other poems on slavery, are noble as morals and often admirable as impassioned rhetoric; but as poetry they are mostly naught, abound- ing in such lines as New Hampshire thunders an indignant No ! 3 Too much is made, also, of the merely physical suffer- ings of the slave, whose "chains" are always "clank- ing," while The driver plies his reeking thong. 4 And the tender-hearted philanthropist, not the far-seeing statesman, speaks in the occasional passages which show that Whittier, like his fellow-abolitionists, underesti- mated the importance of preserving the Union as the only sufficient guarantee of liberty and the advance of 1 The Tent on the Beach. ' 2 Cf. what is said about Hiawatha, p. 187. 8 New Hampshire. 4 The World's Convention. JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 235 civilization in the New World. 1 But after all deductions have been made, every true Anglo-Saxon must rejoice that these poems were written, and the American may be proud that they were written by a fellow-countryman. They blaze and thrill with magnificent passion for per- sonal liberty and withering scorn for the coward and knave. Some of them, as Massachusetts to Virginia and To Faneuil Hall, are superb pieces of defiant declama- tion at a time when "doughfaces" abounded in the North. A few, as The Slave-Ships, The Farewell of a Virginia Slave Mother, and The Slaves of Martinique, have considerable imagination, beauty, and pathos. Randolph of Roanoke is an example of Whittier's shrewd yet magnanimous estimate of men. *Ichabod\s the more terrible as an arraignment because of its restraint and its dirge-like mourning for a great leader once revered and loved. 2 Songs of Labor and the poems entitled In War Time have, as a whole, small merit of any sort; but one of the latter, Barbara Frietchie, whatever its historical accuracy, is admirable for its ballad-like simplicity and directness, and its thrill of patriotic heroism. Most of the poems which have given Whittier a high place in American literature were written during the second and more tranquil half of his life, when ill health made him less active in the cause of reform, or, the great conflict ended, he felt wholly free to let Old, harsh voices of debate Flow into rhythmic song. 3 1 See Texas. 2 It is said that Webster was more deeply cut by it than by any other of the criticisms hurled at him for his famous Seventh of March speech. See The Lost Occasion for Whittier's later and milder view of the fallen idol. 3 My Birthday. 236 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. His gift for historical ballads, in which he has no rival among American poets, showed itself in The Witch's Daughter, Skipper Ireson's Ride, The Pipes at Luc know, How the Women Went from Dover, and other poems, that combine historic truth of fact and atmosphere with imaginative interest and much of the freshness and easy swing of style and verse that characterize the old ballads. There is no better introduction to certain phases of early New England history than some of these unpre- tentious poems. The same rare qualities of simplicity, and a freshness as of the woods and fields, appear in the ballad of Maud Midler, so full of the breath of meadows and the pathos of everyday life, with the fetters imposed by custom and social cares upon poor and rich alike. Whittier's gift for the ballad form reached its highest expression in * Telling the Bees, the most exquisite of all his poems and unequalled among American ballads for its union of spontaneity with finish, homely but beautiful descriptive setting, and the very soul of delicate love- pathos. The Barefoot Boy and In School- Days are hardly less exquisite, the one as a picture of a New England country boy, the other as a memory of the angelic purity and tenderness of child-love in the little old "schoolhouse by the road." Snow-Bound, that unique idyl of New England country life in winter, is, on the whole, Whittier's greatest and most characteristic poem. Nearly all his previous life had been an unconscious preparation for it, and his an- cestors had a hand in it before he was born. It could have been written only by one bred on a New England farm, in whose veins ran blood drawn from the best New England stock, and to whom the intellectual, moral, and spiritual JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER. 237 atmosphere of New England was his native element. As the literary expression of New England rural life it has no rival, and richly deserves its position as one of the few American classics. It is by no means faultless. Lame rhythms, defective rhymes, and an awkward or obscure order of words occasionally annoy the fastidious reader; the grouping of the figures is a bit stiff; the ending is be- low the level of earlier parts. But these are minor faults, and comparatively harmless in a homespun poem whose charm does not depend upon external polish. Its pictures are very vivid and distinctive, its character-sketches life- like and varied, and the whole is permeated with a tonic atmosphere of "plain living and high thinking." The Tent on the Beach, Among the Hills, The Pennsyl- vania Pilgrim, and most of the other late, poems, although they show the skill of the experienced craftsman and contain beautiful passages, never reach a high level, while much is manifestly the work of an old man. One other class of Whittier's poems, however, deserve special mention, — the religious poems. There was more of the Hebrew in him than in any other American poet, more of that spirit of lofty and fervid devotion charac- teristic of ancient psalmist and prophet. This Hebraistic element, which so easily errs on the side of fanaticism and dogmatic insistence upon creed, was in his case happily tempered by the intellectual breadth and the 3weet charity which were a part of his Quaker heritage. Orthodox and heterodox alike accept The Vaudois Teacher, Trinitas, Our Master, and The Eternal Good- ness as beautiful expressions of the spirit of "pure religion and undefiled." In a few poems, notably in The Meeting, the distinctive tenets ~* rk„„i™:~~ ™ 238 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. presented loyally, but in a manner void of offence £ Still others, such as My Soul and I, Questions of Life> The Shadow and the Light, and Adjustment, show that Whittier did not escape the spirit of the age, but that the mysteries of life weighed upon him heavily and that he attained to faith and calm only through struggle. He was no metaphysician, but neither was he a mere blind devotee; he looked intellectual difficulties squarely in the face, admitted his inability to read the darkest of the riddles, and resigned himself to a large trust in the goodness of the Eternal. Whittier' s prose works, which fill three volumes, have little value now except as means to a better knowledge of the man. They comprise papers on slavery and other political topics, tales and sketches, and a few literary criticisms. The most noteworthy are justice and Ex- pediency, the poet's first pamphlet upon abolition, in which cold facts and calm logic combine with fiery zeal against a great wrong, and Margaret Smith's Journal, containing a vivid and truthful picture of life in New England in 1678-1679. It is evident that New England's homespun poet, who knew and loved the old masters of English song, was keenly aware that he could not equal their sweetest music nor their highest flights. 1 But it was quite consistent with his rare modesty to know also that his homeliness was his strength. He was far from illiterate. Burns first set him to singing, and the influence of the old English ballads and of the modern romantic poets, Scott in particular, is noticeable in his verse. But he was not bookish in the same sense that Longfellow was. His 1 See Proem, JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 239 best poems sprang directly from close contact with nature and human life; they passed through his library, but never originated there. It is this wild-flower odor, this sense of the rocky hillside pasture and of the river flowing by the old farm, this outdoor knowledge of boy and man and woman in his native village, that give Whittier's lines their distinctive and enduring charm. We feel that this man has not chiefly read, but has lived, and that he has put into living words much that was most beautiful, picturesque, and noble in the New Eng- land of his youth. James Russell Lowell ! was descended from Percival Lowell, a Bristol merchant, who came to Massachusetts in 1639. His grandfather, John Lowell, was a member of the Continental Congress and chief justice of the First United States Circuit Court. His father, Rev. 1 LIFE. Born in Cambridge, Mass., Feb. 22, 1819. Attended a local boarding-school ; in Harvard College, 1834-1S38 ; received degree of B.L. from Harvard Law School, 1840. Practised law and wrote for the magazines, 1840-1844; started The Pioneer magazine/1843. Mar- ried Maria White, 1844; four children, only one of whom survived childhood, were born to him. Regular contributor to The Anti-Slavery Standard, 1846-1850. In Europe, 1851-1852. Wife died, 1853. Lec- tured before the Lowell Institute, 1855. Appointed Professor of French and Spanish Languages and Literatures, and Belles-Lettres, in Harvard College, 1855. In Europe, 1855-1856. Professor at Harvard, 1856- 1877. Married Frances Dunlap, 1857. Edited The Atlantic Monthly, 1857-1861 ; an editor of The North American Review, 1863-1872. In Europe, 1872-1874. Received degree of D.C.L. from Oxford Univer- sity, 1873. Minister to Spain, 1877-1880; visited Greece and Turkey, 1878; Minister to England, 1880-1885 ; received degree of LL.D. from Harvard College, 1884 ; wife died, 1885. In America, at Southborough, Mass., and Boston, with frequent short trips to England, 1885-1889; in Cambridge, Mass., 1889-1891. Died in Cambridge, Aug. 12, 1891. A Unitarian. Works. Class Poem, 1838. A Year's Life, 1841. Poems, 1844. Conversations on Some of the Old Poets, 1845. The Vision of Sir Launfal, 1845. Poems, 1848. A Fable for Critics, 1848. The Biglow 240 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. Charles Lowell, for many years pastor of a Unitarian church in Boston, was a man of more than usual literary culture. From his mother, who came of an old Orkney family, the poet "believed himself to have inherited his love of nature and his poetic temperament." 1 In this cultured Christian home the boy grew up into all that is noble, manly, and refined. He was a thoroughly healthy boy, not too fond of the schoolroom, although a good scholar. 2 At college Lowell was popular, and he enjoyed his life there. His taste for books, and for good editions, grew apace. He read widely, wrote poetry, and fell in love. His letters at this period show him as a somewhat callow youth, but brimful of intellect, literary sense, humor, and good spirits. For neglect of the routine studies he was "rusticated" in his senior year, and spent several months in Concord, studying under the clergyman there; his class-day poem had Papers, First Series, 1848 (appeared first in the Boston Courier, 1846- 1848) ; Second Series, 1867 (appeared first in The Atlantic Monthly, 1862-1866). Poems, 1849. Fireside Travels, 1864. Commemoration Ode, 1865. Poetical Works, 1869. Under the Willows, 1869. The Cathedral, 1869. Among My Books, First Series, 1870; Second Series, 1876. My Study Windows, 1871. Three Memorial Poems, 1876. Democracy and Other Addresses, 1887. Heartsease and Rue, 1888. Political Essays, 1888. Latest Literary Essays and Addresses, 1892. The Old English Dramatists, 1892 (delivered before the Lowell Insti- tute, 1887). Letters, 1893. 1 C. E. Norton, in his edition of Lowell's letters, Vol. I., p. 2. 2 His earJy letters, while delightfully boyish, anticipate some of the qualities of the man : " My Dear Brother, — I am now going to tell you melancholy news. I have got the ague together with a gumbiie. . . . The boys are all very well except Nemaise, who has got another piece of glass in his leg. ... I have got quite a library. The Master has not taken his rattan out since the vacation. Your little kitten is as well and as playful as ever and I hope you are to for I am sure I love you as well as ever. Why is grass like a mouse you cant guess that he he he ho ho ho ha ha ha hum hum hum." — Letter, Nov. 2, 1828. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 241 therefore to be delivered by another. For the next few years Lowell wavered between law and literature. He learned enough law to get admitted to the bar, but he never had much practice; and as soon as he was able to make a scanty living by writing for periodicals, he for- sook the courts of justice for the courts of the Muses. His first wife, herself a poetess, was admirably adapted to be his companion, and LowelPs life was for many years a very happy one in spite of straitened means and the death of several children. His first trip abroad was made chiefly for the benefit of Mrs. LowelPs health; but the death of their infant son, in Rome, was a blow from which she never really recovered. Her death, a year later, left the poet a very lonely man ; 1 but " his temperament was too healthy, his character too strong, to allow him to give way to despair; ... he sought distraction in work." 2 His lectures on the English poets, before the Lowell Institute, were very popular and greatly increased his reputation, and he naturally became Longfellow's successor in the professorship of belles-lettres at Harvard. Lowell was now able to devote himself in peace of mind to the literary and scholarly pursuits in which he most delighted, although his interest in the anti-slavery cause, and in political matters generally, was still strong. His second marriage to a talented woman renewed his domestic happiness; and for many years his life at "Elmwood," the ancestral residence in Cambridge, a 1 " I do abhor sentimentality from the bottom of my soul, and can- not wear my grief upon my sleeves, but yet I look forward with agony to the time when she may become a memory instead of a constant presence." — Letter, Nov. 25, 1853. 2 C. E. Norton, in his edition of Lowell's letters, Vol. I., p. 204. 242 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. spacious colonial house pleasantly situated within sight of the river Charles, was almost the ideal life of the man of letters. As a teacher he was unconventional, unique, vital. 1 But the routine wore on him. 2 The preparation of lectures and the editorship of two magazines still further developed his critical powers at the expense of his poetical. But Lowell was by nature a student and critic as well as poet; and probably the things of the intellect would have filled a larger and larger place in his life as youth gave way to middle age, whatever his daily pursuits had been. 3 Lowell, however, was not only a poet and scholar; he was also a man of the world, 1 " Now and again, some word or some passage would suggest to him a line of thought — sometimes very earnest, sometimes paradoxi- cally comical — that it would never have suggested to any one else. And he would lean back in his chair, and talk away across country till he felt like stopping; or he would thrust his hands into the pockets of his rather shabby sack-coat, and pace the end of the room with his heavy laced boots, and look at nothing in particular, and discourse of things in general. We gave up note-books in a week." " In a month I could read Dante better than I ever learned to read Greek or Latin or Ger- man." — Professor Barrett Wendell, in Stelligeri, p. 207. 2 In 1874, while in Europe, he wrote, " My being a professor wasn't good for me — it damped my gunpowder. ... If I were a profane man, I should say, ' Darn the College ! ' " 3 " I have been at work, ... in making books that I had read and marked really useful by indexes of all peculiar words and locutions. ... I have been reading many volumes of the Early English Text Society's series in the same thorough way. ... I have now reached the point where I feel sure enough of myself in Old French and Old English to make my corrections with a pen instead of a pencil as I go along. Ten hours a day, on an average, I have been at it for the last two months, and get so absorbed that I turn grudgingly to anything else." — Letter, Sept. 19, 1874. " All around us [in Lowell's study] were the crowded book-shelves, whose appearance showed them to be the companions of the true literary workman. . . . Their ragged bindings, and thumbed pages scored with frequent pencil-marks, implied that they were a student's tools. . . . He would sit among his books, pipe in mouth, a book in hand, hour after hour." — Leslie Stephen, in Nor- ton's edition of Lowell's letters, Vol. I., p. 408. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 243 and he was deeply interested in the problems of govern- ment under a republic. Believing profoundly, though not blindly, in democracy, he was a severe and trenchant critic of the attitude taken by the upper classes of Eng- land during our Civil War, for his Americanism, however courteous, was always self-poised and sometimes aggres- sive. 1 In England he would probably have become a scholar-statesman, like John Morley ; in America his only chance in political life was as foreign minister; and as he had succeeded Longfellow in the professor's chair, so he fittingly became the successor of Irving at the court of Spain. His transference to Westminster proved to be one of the fortunate incidents which have helped to draw England and the United States closer together in recent years. During his brilliant term of service, our foremost man of letters furnished an example of the ideal attitude for the whole nation, an atti- tude of broad-minded love for "Our Old Home" with entire self-respect and stanch independence. After re- turning to this country, Lowell became a healthful in- fluence in our domestic politics by promoting political activity on the part of men of high intellect and char- acter. But his own days of action were nearly spent. The death of his wife and the infirmities of age made his last years lonely and sometimes painful. He retained his intellect and courage and youth of spirit to the end, however, and his last published letter is as witty and 1 See his letters, Vol. I., pp. 409-412, for Leslie Stephen's experience. From amidst the splendors of the Spanish court he writes in 1878 : " But to me, I confess, it is all vanity and vexation of spirit. I like America better every day." In his last years he loved English life very much, and found European civilization more interesting than American ; but his profound faith in his country never died. 244 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. lovable as any. 1 But his work was done; he was only waiting for the end, nor did he wait long. , Lowell's early poems show clearly the influence of hir reading in the English poets. The accent of Tennyson is unmistakable in The Sirens, Irene, Rosaline, Colum- bus, and others. 2 To Perdita Singing and Prometheus would never have been written but for Shelley's lyrics and Prometheus Unbound. Rhoecus has much of Lan- dor's manner, different as the poem is from the latter's less didactic Hamadryad on the same Greek legend. A Legend of Brittany combines Keats 's adoring love of sensuous beauty with something of Chaucer's simplicity and naive pathos in narration. The Ode to France was evidently modelled, consciously or unconsciously, upon Coleridge's similar ode. The nature poems would not have been what they are had not Wordsworth and Keats already led the way. All this is not to say that Lowell was a mere imitator even in his earlier work. From the first there was something distinctive in his tone and atmosphere, although often it was slight and hardly definable. In his best nature poems, early and late, — such as An Indian- -Summer Reverie, *To the Dandelion, the preludes in The Vision of Sir Launfal (so superior to 1 " If I have not written, it has been because I had nothing good to say of myself. I have been very wretched with one thing and another. And now a painful sensation is taking its place. I could crawl about a little till this came, and now my chief exercise is on the nightmare. I can't sleep without opium. ... I thank God for that far-away visit of yours, which began for me one of the dearest friendships of my life. . . . I never read so many [novels] before, I think, in my life, and they come to me as fresh as the fairy tales of my boyhood. ... All your friends here are well, and each doing good in his several way." — Letter to Leslie Stephen, June 21, 1891. 2 Compare the above-named especially with Tennyson's Lotus Eaters, ', Oriana, and Ulysses respectively. JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 245 the rather commonplace narrative parts), Under the Wil- lows, and Pictures from Appledore, — he unites the truth and health of Wordsworth with the flush of Keats, some- times adding a playfulness not found in either. Deeper and more passionate than Longfellow, more intellectual and ideal than Whittier, not so philosophical as Emer- son but more sensuous, less elemental and sublime than Bryant but far more human and sunny, Lowell is, on the whole, the richest and most satisfying of our poets of nature. June, in particular, was made for this poet, and he for June. Yet the earlier poems, as a whole, are nevertheless comparatively imitative and "literary." But keenly sensitive as Lowell was to English literary influences, he was also intensely alive to American con- ditions both in the world of letters and in the world of politics. In A Fable for Critics and The Biglow Papers ke suddenly revealed powers that could not have been divined from his previous work. The Fable contains a series of critical judgments upon contemporary Ameri- can literature that are, as a rule, surprisingly accurate; and its torrent of puns and its overflowing energy of good-natured satire are still enjoyable. *The Biglow Papers were inspired by as hearty a hatred for slavery as burned in Whittier, while in literary sense, dramatic power, rollicking humor, and use of the racy Yankee dia- lect, they are quite unrivalled among American poems on political subjects. It must be confessed, however, that as pure literature neither series has altogether held its own. The humor of the Rev. Homer Wilbur sooner or later palls, and most of the poems are overweighted with the details of contemporary politics, that perennially interesting bucolic idyl, The Courtin\ only emphasizing *46 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. this defect by contrast. Yet, as a whole, in conception and execution The Bigloiv Papers remain Lowell's raci- est, most original, and most distinctively American work in verse. Of the poems grouped together as " Poems of the War," the only remarkable one is the Ode Recited at the Harvard Commemoration, which contains the best delineation, in verse, of the character of Lincoln. Under the Old Elm, similarly, is notable chiefly for its portrait of Washington. Both odes have many faulty lines and not a few prosaic passages, but their general effect is noble, and they are still our best examples of a very difficult species of poetical composition. A very differ- ent class of Lowell's poems, those springing from inci- dents and moods in his personal life, have a peculiar charm, for they bring us close to the man himself. Some of the earlier poems of this sort, as The Changeling, in their graceful tenderness remind one of Longfellow. The later, such as The Dead House, Ode to Happiness, A Familiar Epistle to a Friend, and the memorial verses on Agassiz, are more distinctive, often uniting deep and subtle thought with delightful play of fancy and humor. The longest of these poems, The Cathedral, is the finest expression, in American verse, of the spirit of modern religious doubt — its half-regret for the loss of the mediaeval faith, its intellectual integrity in refusing to delude itself, its reverential groping toward a new form of faith in which heart and brain alike may find rest. The form of the poem is hardly worthy of its substance, being often diffuse and occasionally too colloquial; for its thought, however, The Cathedral deserves to be read along with the similar poems of Tennyson, Arnold, and Clough. Lowell's very latest verses, all too few, are rich JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 247 with the mellow fruitage of an intellectual life nobly lived, but add nothing, distinctive to his poetic fame/ The prose works fall into three classes : literary essays, essays on public men and political topics, and miscel- laneous essays. The literary essays, many of which first existed as lectures, are the most numerous and most significant. Lowell had very exceptional qualifications for the difficult task of literary criticism. He was him- self a poet, yet had also the needful prosaic gifts of common-sense and masculine understanding; his literary sense was at once nice, robust, and catholic; he was widely read in many literatures, and a careful student of several; without a trace of pedantry he had those scholarly instincts for lack of which many men of letters, so delightful as companions, are so untrustworthy and sometimes so exasperating as guides; he knew men and the world as well as books; while more anxious to inter- pret than to flay, he could use the knife on occasion; and he was master of a style which, although far from faultless, often sinning by jerkiness, "smartness," and too continual emphasis, is eminently readable by reason of its strength, its incisiveness, its sparkle of wit and flash of sarcasm, and the abounding vitality which per- vades every sentence from the first word to the last. The range of his knowledge and the breadth of his sympathies are remarkable. His essay on Dante is still the best general introduction to the study of the great poet of the Middle Ages. He knew the profound mind of Lessing. To Rousseau he could be just, in spite of the inoorn dislike of the Anglo-Saxon for certain phases of the Gal- lie mind and temperament. He was equally at home in discussing the technique of Milton's blank verse or the 248 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. religious ideas of Paradise Lost. He was able to say something new and helpful even upon Shakspere. Wordsworth the poet he revered, but "Daddy Words- worth " he could laugh at. Chaucer, Spenser, and Keats were brothers to his soul, yet one of the most masterly of his essays is that upon the masculine and intellectual Dryden; and if his sympathy with Pope was less com- plete, he nevertheless showed great admiration for the wit and the sting of the "Wasp of Twickenham." Nearly all his criticisms have the rare merit of increas- ing the reader's enjoyment of the authors discussed, at the same time that they broaden his knowledge and sharpen his critical sense. As to Lowell's historical position in literary criticism, the words of a living Eng- lish scholar have special weight: "The wide dissemi- nation of our race over the western and the northern continents is raising up new centres of culture, which derive their tone from England, which provide her men of letters with a public destined to become more ample than Europe could afford were Europe English, and which promises to afford them, at no distant date, all the advantages of exterior criticism unwarped by having had to pass through a foreign medium. ... It would almost seem that while superior excellence of production may long remain the attribute of England, the decisive voice in criticism may pass to America. . . . The affluence of importation [of foreign literature into America] . . . fosters that width of view and freedom from conventional prejudice which distinguishes Ameri- can judgment in literary as in other matters. Americans far surpass us English in the prompt recognition of excellence. . . . Two natural and inevitable develop- JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL. 249 ments may be remarked in American criticism. There is, first, the classical, conservative, cautious school of the Irvings and Channings and Ticknors, and of the old North American Review in general; a school consciously under the influence of the old country. There is also a younger school consciously aiming at originality, at evolving a national type, and occupying a position in criticism akin to Bret Harte's in production. . . . Mr. Russell Lowell is, in a sense, the most perfect represen- tative of American criticism to be found, for he occu- pies a central position between the old school and the new. . . . His criticisms hint what service American culture may render to English letters when it has obtained an entirely independent point of view." 1 The miscel- laneous essays, including My Garden Acquaintance, On a Certain Condescension in Foreigners, etc., although entertaining and keen, are of minor consequence. Those on public men and political topics, of which * Abraham Lincoln and Democracy are the chief, have permanent value for their ardent but intelligent Ameri- canism, their searching analysis of character, their flexile grasp on the principles of government, and their pure and lofty ideal of national life. James Russell Lowell is our greatest man of letters, in the special sense of that term. His literary sense was a constituent part of all his thinking and feeling, adding to everything that he wrote an artistic quality without in the least diminishing the impression of earnestness and sincerity. A charming letter- writer; one of the few lit- erary critics whose criticisms are themselves literature; 1 Richard Garnett in his introduction to My Study Windows (Lon* Jon, Walter Scott, 1886). 250 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. a wise publicist, touching political problems with large sanity and a noble idealism; a vigorous humorist and satirist; an exponent of the best American traditions and of the best English culture; a poet in whose pages are gleams of a poetic gift perhaps richer than can be found elsewhere in our literature; he stands quite unrivalled among American authors for combined excellence and versatility of production. And, yet, upon laying down his works we have a certain feeling of disappointment, as if he had not given us quite such good things, certainly not so many of the best things, as we had a right to expect from a nature so rarely endowed. This feeling is strongest in regard to his poetry. It would seem that the proverbially jealous Muse made even Lowell pay the penalty of versatility, angry that the incense of his worship should smoke upon other altars than her own. But it is allowed us to believe that, on the whole, it was best so; America, at the stage of culture which she had then reached, perhaps needing a great man of letters more than she needed a somewhat greater poet. At least, we may justly be proud to have so early produced a man worthy of admission into the illustrious fellowship of Dryden, Addison, and Samuel Johnson. Oliver Wendell Holmes l belonged to what he himself styled the " Brahmin caste" of New England. On his 1 Life. Born in Cambridge, Mass., Aug. 29, 1809. In Phillips Academy, Andover, 1824-1825; in Harvard College, 1825-T829; in the Harvard Law School, 1829-1830 ; in a Boston medical school, 1830-1832 ; studied medicine in Paris, 1833-1835, making visits to Germany, England, and Italy. Began the practice of medicine in Boston, 1836 ; professor of anatomy in Dartmouth College, 1839-1840. Married Amelia L. Jack- Bon, 1840; two sons and a daughter were born to him. Professor of anatomy in the Harvard Medical School, 1847-1882; dean, 1847-1853. Received the degree of LL.D. from Harvard, 1880. To Europe, 1886; OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 251 mother's side he was descended from Anne and Governor Bradstreet; l his first paternal ancestor in America, John Holmes, settled in Woodstock, Connecticut, in 1682, and had for descendants a deacon, a captain and surgeon, and a clergyman. The last, the poet's father, was him- self an author in verse and prose; but it is said that Holmes derived much more of his intellectual quality from his mother, who was "a bright, vivacious woman, of small figure and sprightly manners." 2 As a lad, the future author of The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table early revealed a wide-awake, inquisitive mind and a love of letters. He read eagerly in his father's library of one or two thousand volumes, reading " in books rather than through them," 3 and he soon became a rhymer himself. Although his class poem and his contributions to college periodicals showed no great promise on the whole, 4 he had only just completed his twenty-first year received the degree of Doctor of Letters from Cambridge, LL.D. from Edinburgh, D.C.L. from Oxford. Died Oct. 7, 1894. A Unitarian. Works. Poems, 1836-1850. Collected edition in 2 vols., 1892. Medical Essays, 1842, 1843 ; collected 1861. Pages from an old Volume of Life, 1857-1861 ; collected 1863. The Autocrat of the Breakfast Tabic, 1858 (first in the Atlantic Monthly, 1857-1858). The Professor at the Breakfast Table, 1859 (first in the Atlantic Monthly, 1859). Elsie Venner, 1861 (first in the Atlantic Monthly, 1859-1860, as The Professor's Story), The Guardian Angel, 1867 (first in the Atlantic Monthly, 1867). The Poet at the Breakfast Table, 1872 (first in the Atlantic Monthly, 1871-1872). Memoir of John Lothrop Motley, 1878. Life of Emerson, in the Ameri- can Men of Letters series, 1884. A Mortal Antipathy, 1885 (first in the Atlantic Monthly, 1884-1885). Over the Tea-Cups, 1890 (first in the Atlantic Monthly, 1 888-1889). Our Hundred Days in Europe, 1887. 1 See pp. 26-27, 299. Another of his mother's ancestors, Evert Jansen Wendell, a Dutchman, settled in Albany about the year 1640. * Life and Letters of Oliver Wendell Holmes, by J. T. Morse, Jr., Vol I., p. 15* 8 " The Autobiographical Notes," in Morse, Vol. I., p. 40, 4 The Mysterious Visitor, The Spectre Pig % and a few other of these Juvenilia have, however, survived. 252 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. when Old Ironsides gave him a taste of fame. 1 A year'i study of the law convinced the young poet that the legal profession was not for him. The study of medicine, also, he took up without much interest at first; but during his two years' residence abroad he became an enthusiastic student under the foremost Parisian savants, and upon his return to Boston he settled down con- tentedly enough to the life of a physician. He never had a large practice, partly because many people mis- trusted (in this case unjustly) the professional skill of a doctor who was also a poet and wit, and who could pun about his own business by announcing that "the smallest fevers would be thankfully received." But he won several prizes for medical essays, and in the essay upon puerperal fever "made an original and a greatly valuable contribution to medical science." 2 As profes- sor of anatomy his career was long and honorable, and in one way brilliant. His gifts of wit and fancy were pressed into service to enliven a rather dry subject, which he nevertheless taught with great thoroughness, and the last hour of the day was always assigned to him " because he alone could hold his exhausted audience's attention." 8 1 The poem, which was hastily written with a pencil on a scrap of paper, as a protest against the threatened destruction of the old frigate " Constitution," was first published in The Boston Daily Advertiser ; and, being copied in the newspaper*, throughout the country, raised such a storm of popular sentiment that the Navy Department countermanded its order. 2 Morse, Vol. I., p. 164. 3 Morse, Vol. I., p. 176. " * These, gentlemen,' he said on one occasion, . . . ' are the tuberosities of the ischia, on which man was designed to sit and survey the works of Creation.' " " None but Holmes could have compared the microscopical coiled tube of a sweat-gland to a fairy's intestine." — Reminiscences by Holmes's assistants, in Morse, Vol. I., pp. 177, 179. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 253 In these labors the years sped rapidly away, and Holmes had passed middle age without achieving any- thing more than a local reputation as poet and wit. It was the publication of The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table, in the early numbers of The Atlantic Monthly, which made the Boston medical lecturer a world-famous man of letters. 1 From this time on, almost to the end of a very long life, his literary career was a series of successes, his subsequent works confirming and extend- ing, although they did not heighten, the reputation which The Autocrat had won. That he was able to carry on, for so long and so successfully, two kinds of exacting labor, as writer and lecturer, was due in no small part to his wife, "a comrade the most delightful, a helpmate the most useful," who "hedged him carefully about and protected him from distractions and bores and interrup- tions." 2 A family of promising children, one of whom has since attained distinction, and a circle of brilliant friends, combined with other circumstances and a cheery temperament to make an exceptionally happy life. 3 His four months 7 tour in Europe, when he was hard upon eighty years of age, afforded new evidence both of 1 " In The New England Magazine, which lived briefly from 1831 to 1835, Dr. Holmes had published two papers under this same name and of much this same plan." — Morse, Vol. I., p. 205. Lowell had a hand in revealing Holmes to the world, for in accepting the editorship of The Atlantic Monthly he made it a condition that the doctor should be "the tfrst contributor to be engaged " ; the latter afterward said, " [Lowell] woke me from a kind of literary lethargy in which I was half slumber- ing." — Morse, Vol, I., p. 204. 2 Morse, Vol. I., pp. 170, 171. 8 Holmes especially delighted in the " Saturday Club," whose mem- bership included Emerson, Hawthorne, Longfellow, Lowell, Motley, Whittier, Agassiz, Sumner, Prescott, and many other distinguished and ■ clubable " men. 254 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. his fame and of his capacity for enjoyment still. But already the years had begun to bring their inevitable sor- row. Some of his dearest friends had passed away, and he was destined to be almost " the last leaf " on a once crowded bough. In 1884 his younger son died; four years later, his wife; and in one year more, his only daughter. Shortly before this his eyesight had grown very dim from cataract, which threatened him with total blindness; happily he was spared this affliction, so dreadful to a man of letters, and he had some use of his eyes to the very last. 1 His closing days were tranquil and crowned with honor. Year after year, in his beauti- ful summer home at Beverly Farms, the old man received, with that harmless vanity which did not ill become him, the congratulations that poured in upon him, with every returning birthday, from the friends and strangers who delighted to do honor to almost the last survivor of the nation's greatest group of writers. Decay and death stole upon him by scarcely perceptible degrees, and he died painlessly in his chair at last. The individuality of Doctor Holmes is so stamped upon his pages that there is no need to dwell upon it separately. But his writings are the embodiment of something more than an original, sparkling, keen- minded, and kind-hearted personality. They are also an expression of New England, and particularly of Bos- ton as Boston was in the middle of the nineteenth cen- tury. Holmes was as distinctively American and (in a 1 In 1887 he wrote to a friend that he had " a cataract in the kitten state of development." Equally characteristic, in another way, was " the serene and cheerful courage with which he faced the dread prospect " ol total blindness. — Morse, Vol. I., pp. 74, 75. OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 255 good sense) provincial as any Texan cowboy or Cali- fornian poker-sharp, although Europeans with an imper- fect knowledge of American life have not always fully realized the fact. In studying the various classes of his works, it is therefore profitable to note the impress of heredity and environment as well as that of a unique personality. Holmes's greatest ambition was to be a poet. It is pleasant to believe that the soul of his far-off ancestress, that "Tenth Muse lately sprung up in America," * lived again in him, and in his poems found the more perfect expression which had been impossible to her in Puritan New England's early days. But it must be doubted whether even the nineteenth-century poet attained more than twice to any very high degree of purely poetical excellence, — once in *The Chambered Nautilus, which is perfect as the beautiful embodiment of a noble pre- cept, and again in *The Last Leaf, so unique a blending of seemingly irreconcilable elements that one is tempted to describe it as a minuet danced with dainty lightness to the music of an elegy. 2 In most of his other famous poems, such as The One-Hoss Shay, Dorothy Q., and The Broomstick Train, imagination is less conspicuous than wit, satire, and fancy in the service of these. 8 As poetry of the lighter intellectual type, they stand high; 1 See p. 26. 2 " Is there in all literature a lyric in which drollery, passing nigh unto ridicule yet stopping short of it, and sentiment becoming pathos yet not too profound, are so exquisitely intermingled ? . . . To spill into the mixture the tiniest fraction of a drop too much of either ingre- dient was to ruin all." — Morse, Vol. I., p. 229. 8 The Broomstick Train is notable both as the work of so old a man and as a fanciful union of the ancient marvel of New England witchcraft with the modern marvel of electricity. 256 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. and as a writer of vers d' occasion Holmes has no superioi and few equals, for he could be merry and wise at the same instant and without letting either quality get in the way of the other. A predominance of intellectual ele- ments was natural enough in the poetry of a clear-headed man of science and a descendant of the logical Puritans. Doctor Holmes was, furthermore, by heredity and en- vironment, an aristocrat of the New England sort, and he showed the conservatism of an aristocrat in his literary leanings as in most others, preferring to model his verse upon the clean-cut, intellectual poetry of the eighteenth century, on which his youth had been nourished, rather than upon the romantic poetry of his own century. 1 In so doing he was wise, for he thereby attempted nothing which he could not do well. In the service of far-darting Apollo he did not aim at many marks, but the marks he aimed at he hit. Brilliant as Holmes's poetry is, the prose works of the " Breakfast Table " series are perhaps more brilliant still ; certainly they are a more complete expression of the man and of the atmosphere in which he lived. *The Autocrat has been happily described as "verbal cham- pagne "; a more homely but no less truthful comparison would liken it to Apollinaris water — all bubble and prickle. Doctor Holmes was one of the most brilliant talkers that ever lived, 2 and his biographer says that 1 " My favorite reading [in youth] was Pope's Homer ; to the present time the grand couplets ring in my ears and stimulate my imagination, in spite of their formal symmetry, which makes them hateful to the law- less versificators who find anthems in the clash of blacksmiths' hammers, and fugues in the jangle of the sleigh bells." — " The Autobiographical Notes," in Morse, Vol. I., p. 48. 2 " Perhaps no man of modern times has given his contemporaries a more extraordinary impression of wit in conversation. We are told OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 257 * The Autocrat held his talk crystallized." 1 The plan of the book is original and happy, allowing the freedom and discursiveness of " table-talk " to be combined with something of the continuity of the essay; nor are the more popular elements of a love story and of character- sketching wholly lacking. Into this mould are poured the wit and wisdom of a lifetime. George William Curtis has spoken of "the whimsical discursiveness of the book, the restless hovering of that brilliant talk over every topic, fancy, feeling, fact." And he adds, " There are few books that leave more distinctly the impression of a mind teeming with riches of many kinds." 2 Furthermore, The Autocrat is saturated with the essence of Bostonian New Englandism — its local pride in a state and a city which have played a great part in great historic events; its Puritanic cleanness in morals; its intellectual form of religion, the intellectu- ality (though not the doctrines nor the liberality) a lineal descendant of the faith of the Puritans; its Yankee shrewdness and wit, permeating a culture fundamentally English; its highly intelligent, if conservative and some- what provincial, mental attitude and outlook. This and more are in The Autocrat, which, without being a profound book, may be a very profitable one. They greatly err who find in it only the crackling of thorns under a pot ; the thorns are there and they crackle, but that ... he listened as brilliantly as he spoke, taking up every challenge, capping every anecdote, rippling over with an illuminated cascade of fancy and humor and repartee." — Edmund Gosse, in Morse, Vol. I., p. 247. 1 Morse, Vol. I., p. 245. 2 Morse, Vol. I., p. 206. Holmes himself said that the papers were M not the result of an express premeditation," but were " dipped from the tunning stream of my thoughts." — Ibid., Vol. I., p. 207. s 258 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. there is also something in the pot. The Autocrat is deservedly the most popular of the series. The Pro- fessor and The Poet have less vivacity, and although they are not heavy they are more continuously serious in matter and manner. Over the Tea- Cups is naturally feebler than the earlier papers, but has its own peculiar value as the talk of a brilliant old man. No one can regret that Holmes tried his hand at novel- writing; yet his novels are the clever work of a very bright man rather than the creations of a born novelist. All three contain vivid and truthful pictures of New England village life and capital sketches of New England types. As a whole, however, A Mortal Antipathy, writ- ten when its author had passed the creative age, is sadly inferior to the other two. Elsie Venner is original and powerful as a "snake story "; and The Guardian Angel, in addition to a piquant style and much admirable wit and satire, has one character that deserves to live — Byles Gridley, bachelor, retired college professor, and author of a dead book. Yet even these two leave the impression of being manufactured, not created; and so, in fact, they were. Holmes wrote all his novels to illus* trate the influence of heredity, and to this theme the plot and the characters are too manifestly subordinate. 1 But although the novels thereby lose in one way, they gain 1 " You see exactly what I wish to do : to write a story with enough of interest in its characters and incidents to attract a certain amount of popular attention. Under cover of this to stir that mighty question of automatic agency in its relation to self-determination. To do this by means of a palpable outside agency, predetermining certain traits of character and certain apparently voluntary acts, such as the common judgment of mankind and the tribunals of law and theology have been in the habit of recognizing as sin and crime. Not exactly insanity, -~ but rather an unconscious intuitive tendency, dating from a powerful OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES. 259 in other ways. They are one more contribution of medi- cal science to pure literature; they reveal the serious side of Holmes more fully ; and the question which they raise, in so interesting and original a way, is one of profound moment for morals and theology. In fact, the author's chief motive in making these studies was ethical and theological rather than scientific. He, of course, took a lively interest in the purely scientific side of the matter. 1 But, true to his Puritan descent, he was at bottom a moralist and theologian. His hatred of the Calvinism in which he had been reared was, indeed, intense throughout his adult life. In literature and poli- tics a conservative, 2 in theology he was a fighting radical. His study, in these novels, of the limits of free will, and, consequently, the limits of men's moral responsibility before God and man, although necessarily not exhaustive, strikes deep into the matter from one side — the physical, — and is stimulative of thought upon the other sides. Considerable emphasis has been laid upon Holmes's ante-natal influence, which modifies the whole organization. To make the subject of this influence interest the reader, to carry the animalizing of her nature just as far as can be done without rendering her repulsive, — such is the idea of this story. It is conceived in the fear of God and in the love of man." — Letter to Mrs. Stowe, in i860, about Elsie Venner ; in Morse, Vol. I., pp. 263-264. 1 " The snake was not repulsive to him ; while writing the book he was so desirous to have the rattlesnake vividly present to his mind as a living reptile . . . that he procured a live one . . . and kept it for many weeks at the medical school. He had a long stick arranged with a padded kid glove at one end and a prodding point at the other, and he used to excite the creature and watch its coiling and its striking, study its eyes and expression, its ways, its character. . . . His scientific research explored all printed knowledge concerning the reptiles and their venom." — Morse, Vol. I., pp. 258-259. 2 It is clear that he was at best lukewarm in the anti-slavery, temper- ance, and other reforms of his day, despite hie letter of self-defence in re« ply to Lowell's strictures. (See Morse, Vol. I., pp. 295-303, for the letter.) z6o THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. Americanism, the flavor of which, as his biographer has happily said, is "as local, as pungent, as unmistakable, as that of a cranberry from the best bog on Cape Cod." 1 But his Americanism was not of the narrow and rea'ly timorous kind which can maintain itself only by exclud- ing foreign influences. Like all the writers of his group, he was permeated with the best English culture, which was, in a way, as native to the home and community and university in which he had been reared as to the mother country itself. His classical studies had not failed to do their part in the shaping of a poet who has much of the bonhommie, finished wit, and genial satiric power of Horace. His residence in France, where he became intimately familiar with the French language and the French mind, reenforced his natural tendency to vivacity and piquancy of style. 2 But, after all, these were only grafts on the main stock. That stock was American, New England, Bostonian; and the genius of the tree was one Oliver Wendell Holmes, as unique and entertaining an individuality as ever revealed itself in letters. Philadelphia continued to be the centre of consider- able literary activity, although its importance in this respect was relatively less than in earlier days. Among the writers who, because of birth or residence in that region, may for convenience be grouped together, Rob- ert M. Bird (1805-1854) had some prominence for a time; he was editor of the Philadelphia North Ameri- 1 Morse, Vol. I., p. 208. 2 His gift in this way may have been partly an inheritance from his talented ancestress, Mrs. Bradstreet. See the extracts from her pithy Meditations , on p. 27. PENNSYLVANIA AUTHORS. 261 can Gazette, and author of Nick of the Woods : a Tale of Kentucky (1837), several other novels, and three trage- dies, including The Gladiator, which was played by Forrest and still holds the boards. Another successful dramatist was Robert T. Conrad (18 10- 185 8), editor of Graham' s Magazine, and author of Aylmere (1841), a strong though rather loud play on Jack Cade, which was acted by Forrest at home and abroad. Thomas D. English (1819-1902), journalist, lawyer, physician, wrote novels, poems, and dramas, but only his song of Ben Bolt (in Poems, 1855) has lived. The poet and artist Thomas B. Read (1822-1872), whose dashing Sheridan's Ride (1865) is one of the most popular of the poems of the Civil War, was less happy in his longer productions. The New Pastoral (1855), on life in Pennsylvania, is slow and heavy; The House by the Sea (1855) attempts the supernatural, with small success; The Wagoner of the Alleghanies (1862), on the Revolu- tionary War, contains some stirring narration and good descriptions of American scenery, but lacks the large- ness and power demanded by the subject, besides being in metre and style manifestly an echo of Scott's narrative poems. George H. Boker (1823-1890), minister to Turkey and Russia, was a respectable poet and a drama- tist of more than ordinary ability. 1 The style of his plays is strong and flowing, the characters are clearly outlined and motived, and the plots move firmly to a dignified climax; Calaynos, his best tragedy, was suc- cessfully acted in London in 1849. Charles G. Leland 1 The Lesson of Life, 1847. Calaynos, 1848. Anne Boleyn, 1850. The Podesta's Daughter, 1852. Plays and Poems, 1856. Poems of the War, 1864. Ete. 262 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. ( 1 824-1 903), magazine writer and editor, is known chiefly by his humorous Hans Breitmari 's Ballads (com- plete, 187 1), in the German-American dialect. The greatest of the Pennsylvania authors of this period was Bayard Taylor. 1 His father was a farmer, 1 Life. Born Jan. 11, 1825, at Kennett Square, Penn. Educated in local schools; in West Chester Academy, 1837-1839; in Unionville Academy, as student and tutor, 1839-1842. Apprenticed to a printer in West Chester, 1842. To England, Germany, Italy, France, 1844-1846. Edited The Phcenixville Pioneer, 1846-1847; in New York, writing for The Literary World, The Union Magazine, and The Tribune, 1847- 1849; to California as Tribune's correspondent, 1849-1850. Married Mary Agnew, then dying of consumption, 1850. To Egypt, Syria, Asia Minor, Ethiopia, Spain, India, China, 1851-1853. Bought a farm near Kennett, 1853. Made extensive lecture tours in United States, 1854- 1856. To Northern Europe, 1856. Married Marie Hansen, daughter of a German astronomer, 1857 ; one daughter was born to him. To Greece, 1857-1858. Lectured in California and elsewhere, 1858-1861 ; built Cedarcroft on his Kennett estate, and abandoned his New York home, 1861. Secretary of the Russian Legation, 1862-1863. To the Rocky Mountains, 1866; to Spain and Italy, 1867-1868. Appointed non-resident professor of German literature at Cornell University in 1869, and lectured there for several years. Offered Cedarcroft for sale, and removed to New York, 1871. In Germany, with excursions to Italy, Egypt, and Iceland, 1872-1874. In United States, writing and lecturing. 1874-1878. Minister to Germany, 1878 ; died in Berlin, Dec. 19, 1878. WORKS. Ximena, 1844. Views Afoot, 1846. Rhymes of Travel, Ballads, and Poems, 1848 (imprint, 1849). Eldorado, 1850. A Book of Romances, Lyrics, and Songs, 1851. A Journey to Central Africa, 1854. The Lands of the Saracen, 1854. Poems of the Orient, 1854. A Visit to India, China, and Japan, 1855. Poems of Home and Travel, 1855. Northern Travel, 1857. Travels in Greece and Russia, 1859. At Home and Abroad, 1859; second series, 1862. The Poet's Journal, 1862. Hannah Thurston, 1863. John Godfrey's Fortunes, 1864. The Story of Kennett, 1866. The Picture of St. John, 1866. Colorado: a Summer Trip, 1867. The Golden Wedding, 1868. By- Ways of Europe, 1869. Joseph and His Friend, 1870. Translation of Faust, 1870-1871. Beauty and the Beast, and Tales of Home, 1872. The Masque of the Gods, 1872. Lars : a Pastoral of Norway, 1873. Egypt and Iceland, 1874. The Prophet : a Tragedy, 1874. Home Pastorals, Ballads, and Lyrics, 1875. The Echo Club, 1876. Boys of Other Countries, 1876. The National Ode, 1876. Prince Deukalion, 1878. Studies in German Literature, 1879. Critical Essays and Literary Notes, 1880. BAYARD TAYLOR. 263 whose ancestors came to America with Perm ; on his mother's side he inherited considerable German or Swiss blood. In spite of his Quaker training, the boy early displayed a restless, roving disposition; but he took naturally to letters also, writing verses at seven years, and reading Goethe, Scott, and Gibbon while yet a mere lad. In his twentieth year he resolved to gratify his thirst for foreign travel; but his means being very limited, he went through Europe chiefly afoot, and often lived upon bread, figs, and chestnuts, at a cost of six cents a day. His first book of travels, however, became at once popular, and Taylor's destiny was mani- fest : he was to be the man of letters in motion. His energy in both travelling and writing was enormous. In India he went more than two thousand miles in less than two months; in northern Europe he rode two hun- dred and fifty miles behind reindeer, and journeyed five hundred miles within the Arctic Circle. His pen trav- elled nearly as fast as his feet; in two months and a half he wrote nine hundred royal octavo pages of a cyclo- paedia of travel, and in a night and a day he read Victor Hugo's voluminous La Legende des Siecles and wrote a long review of it, including metrical translations of five poems. All this was not conducive to the highest art or to long life. But native restlessness, grief at the death of his first wife, poverty, an ambition (resembling Scott's) to build up a large estate by the profits of his pen, and resulting debts, all combined to allow Taylor no rest for hand or foot. The responsibilities of high public office proved to be the last straw, and he died at his post before his career as minister to Germany had little more than begun. 264 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. Taylor's volumes of travel are entertaining and give accurate pictures of the lands through which he passed, but such books are, necessarily, sooner or later super- seded. His novels, although they sold well for a time, have proved, like his tales and sketches, to be lacking in vitality. Mr. Stedman thinks Taylor's literary criti- cisms " the ripest and most valuable portion of his prose labor "; * yet who but the scholar now reads them? The dramas — both the realistic Prophet, on Mormonism, and the idealistic Masque of the Gods and Deukalion, in which Shelley's influence is too apparent — are failures, although the last two contain noble passages and show much metrical skill. The narrative poems are far more successful. Lars, with its vivid and finely contrasted pictures of life on the Norwegian coast and by the peace- ful Delaware, and its portrait of a soul passing from half-savage fierceness to the gentleness of Quaker Chris- tianity, is deservedly popular. Hylas is a soft and lovely retouching of the old Greek myth, not unworthy of Landor. In his California Ballads and Pennsylvania Idyls Taylor opened fresh fields, which were to be worked more fully by later men and were to yield some of our most distinctively American products in verse and prose. The principal new element, however, which this world- traveller brought into American literature was that Orientalism which found its best expression in Poems of the Orient, including the famous Bedouin Song. There was something Oriental in the man himself. It appeared in his "down-drooping eyelids; ... in his aquiline nose, with the expressive tremor of the nostrils as he spoke; in his thinly tufted chin, his close-curling 1 Poets 0/ America, p. 420. WALT WHITMAN. 265 hair; his love of spices, music, coffee, colors, and per- fumes." 1 And it went into these poems, in which one finds a sense of the hot desert sands and the fierce sun, the Arab's love of his horse, the sensuous languor and burning passion of the Oriental's nature. German lit- erature affected Taylor's poetry less than might have been expected when one considers his saturation in it; but his translation of Faust combines considerable scholarship with remarkable metrical ingenuity, and is the best rendering of the poem into English verse. * Walt Whitman, 2 as a native and resident of the Middle States, may be spoken of in connection with the Pennsylvania group. On the side of his father, a farmer and carpenter, he was descended from John Whitman, who came to Massachusetts about the year 1640; his mother, the daughter of a Quakeress, was of Dutch origin. He received only a common-school edu- cation, but as a lad was an omnivorous novel-reader, and revelled in Scott's poetry and The Arabian Nights. 1 Stedman's Poets of America, p. 406. 2 I IFE. Born at West Hills, Long Island, May 31, 1819. Lived in Brooklyn, 1824-1833 (?) ; printer in New York, 1836-1837; then taught country schools for two or three years; published a weekly paper at Huntington, L.I., 1839-1840; in New York and Brooklyn as printer and writer, 1840-1849, editing the Brooklyn Daily Eagle, 1848-1849. Jour- neyed through the West and South, 1849, serving on the editorial staff of the New Orleans Daily Crescent for a short time ; returned by the Great Lakes and Canada. Lived several years in New York and Brooklyn as carpenter, printer, editor, and author. Frequented the army hospitals, 1863-1865. Held government clerkships in Washington, 1865-1874. Stricken with paralysis, went to Camden, N J., to live, 1874. Visited Colorado and St. Louis, 1879. Died at Camden, March 26, 1892. Works. Leaves of Grass, 1855; the subsequent editions, 1856, i860, 1867, 1871, 1876, 1881, 1882, contain many changes and additions. Drum Taps, 1865. Passage to India, 1870. Democratic Vistas, 1870. Memoranda during the War, 1875. Specimen Days and Collect, 1882. November Boughs, 1888. Good-bye, My Fancy, 1891. 266 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. "Later," he says, "... I used to go off . . . down in the country, or to Long Island's seashores — there, in the presence of outdoor influences, I went over thor- oughly the Old and New Testaments, and absorbed . . . Shakspere, Ossian, the best translated versions I could get of Homer, ^Eschylus, Sophocles, the old German Nibelungen, the ancient Hindoo poems, and one or two other masterpieces, Dante's among them. As it happened, I read the latter mostly in an old wood. " ' His chief love, however, was for nature and for the life that surged around him in Brooklyn and New York. He had a "passion for ferries," and was hail- fellow-well-met with the burly tribe of omnibus drivers along Broadway. The "leisurely journey and working expedition " of eight thousand miles, which, as a printer and journalist, he made through the West, South, and North, in the prime of his manhood, gave him a wide knowledge, at first hand, of the masses of the American people. With the Civil War began a new epoch in his life. His services as a volunteer army nurse, in the course of which he went "among from eighty thousand to a hundred thousand of the wounded and sick," were unique and of great value, especially, as he himself says, " in the simple matters of personal presence, and ema- nating ordinary cheer and magnetism." 2 His health, superb as it was, broke down under the strain before the war ended, and it was never fully restored. Partial paralysis finally compelled him to resign his government clerkship; and the remainder of his days he spent chiefly in his quiet New Jersey home, half an invalid, and some- 1 A Backward Glance o'er Travelled Roads, 3 Specimen Days. t WALT WHITMAN. 267 times dependent upon the willing help of friends for the supply of his simple wants. He continued to write poetry and prose, getting inspiration for some of it from a second trip to the West. Occasionally he went up the Hudson to visit John Burroughs, and he called upon Longfellow and Emerson the year before they died. Ten years later "the Good Gray Poet" 1 himself passed away. Two great facts underlie Whitman's poetry. The first is Democracy in America. " It seemed to me . . . the time had come," he says, "to reflect all themes and things, old and new, in the lights thrown on them by the advent of America and democracy." Democracy is to him Equality, first of all, — "giving others the same chances and rights as myself." 8 Next, it is Comrade- ship, "in a more commanding and acknowledged sense than hitherto." 2 And the goal of it all is "the forming of myriads of fully developed indi- viduals," 2 for he believed that "the crowning growth of the United States is to be spiritual and heroic." 2 A great city is that which has the greatest men and women, If it be but a few ragged huts it is still the greatest city in the whole world. 4 His thought about the relation of the democratic present to the feudal past is equally broad and just: "America fully and fairly construed . . . is the legiti- mate result and evolutionary outcome of the past"; 2 " ere the New World can be worthily original . , she 1 The phrase is W. D. O'Connor's, in his vindication of Whitman in 1866. 2 A Backward Glance o'er Travelled Roads. * Thought \ in By the Roadside, 4 Song of the Broad- Axe, 268 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. must be well saturated with the originality of others." 1 He was keenly aware of our present shortcomings : " I say that our New World democracy, however great a success in uplifting the masses out of their sloughs, in materialistic development, products, and in a certain highly deceptive, superficial, popular intellectuality, is, so far, an almost complete failure in its social aspects, and in really grand religious, moral, literary, and esthetic results." 2 Yet he was hopeful for the future, believing that although "democracy's first instincts are fain . . . to reduce everything to a dead level," yet "the new influences, upon the whole, are surely preparing the way for grander individualities than ever." 3 His method of giving literary expression to democracy is, first of all, to portray himself, "faithfully" and "un- compromisingly," as one representative American, "the born child of the New World." One's-Self I sing, a simple separate person, Yet utter the word Democratic, the word En-Masse. 4 But he also ranges, in thought, over the continent, and paints all sorts and conditions of men, in masses, on a large canvas with broad sweeps of the brush. The intellect and culture of America, however, receive little attention; he was attracted chiefly to common men and women, and to rough, hardy life in the open air. The scenes of the Civil War, as a tremendous expression of 1 Specimen Days ; a quotation, with approval, of what he had heaitl Longfellow say. 2 Democratic Vistas. 3 A Backward Glance o'er Travelled Roads. 4 One's-Self I Sing. See also Starting from Paumanok and Song if Myself WALT WHITMAN. 269 the best life of the Republic, supplied him with many subjects; while the death of Lincoln, the great American commoner, was the inspiration of two of his noblest poems. 1 Whatever the subject, there appears constantly a great faith in democracy and the worth of the common man. In his own rougher way, Whitman preaches Emerson's doctrine of self-reliance: 2 — We have had ducking and deprecating about enough, I show that size is only development. Have you outstript the rest ? are you the President ? It is a trifle, they will more than arrive there, every one, and still pass on. 3 The second great influence upon Whitman's poetry was Science. According to his light he put into practice the creed of the scientist that whatever is natural is right: — Of physiology from top to toe I sing. 4 I am not the poet of goodness only, I do not decline to be the poet of wickedness also. 5 Give me the drench of my passions, give me life coarse and rank. 6 The poems which elaborate the ideas expressed in these lines have exposed Whitman to the charge of in- decency; but his error was intellectual and aesthetic rather than moral. He lacked that delicacy which would have taught him that some things are less beauti- ful if dragged into broad day; and his conception of 1 O Captain , My Captain and When Lilacs last in the Dooryard Bloomed. See also Come up from the Fields, Father ; Vigil Strange 1 Kept ; and First, O Songs, for a Pr elude 2 Emerson recognized in Whitman a semi-disciple, and publicly wel- comed Leaves of Grass. , although he did not approve of its coarser parts 3 Song of Myself 4 Ones-Self I Sing. 6 Song of Myself 6 Native Moments. 270 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. nature was too narrow, for he did not see that restraint^ delicacy, and silence are as natural as appetite, frank- ness, and speech. But in justice it should be added that his protest against mere prudery needed to be made and is in accord with one of the most wholesome influ- ences of physical science, and that he has said noble things about woman, particularly in this picture of his mother : — Behold a woman ! She looks out from her Quaker cap, her face is clearer and more beautiful than the sky. She sits in an armchair under the shaded porch of the farmhouse, The sun just shines on her old white head. . . . The melodious character of the earth, The finish beyond which philosophy cannot go and does not wish to go, The justified mother of men. 1 Whitman asserts with power the divinity of common things, helping one to realize the sacredness of our bodies and the marvel and mystery of the meanest work of the Creator : — And the running blackberry would adorn the parlors of heaven, . . . And a mouse is miracle enough to stagger sextillions of infidels. 2 If anything is sacred the human body is sacred, And the glory and sweet of a man is the token of manhood un- tainted. 3 The other scientific doctrine that profoundly affected Whitman is Evolution, which he accepted in its most comprehensive sense as an inevitable and never-ending upward movement of the whole universe. Death is only transition, one of many steps in the eternal progression : — l Faces. 2 Song of Myself. 8 / Sing the Body Electric. WALT WHITMAN. 271 If I, you, and the worlds, and all beneath or upon their surfaces, were this moment reduced back to a pallid float, it would not avail in the long run, We should surely bring up again where we now stand, And surely go as much farther, and then farther and farther. . . . This day before dawn I ascended a hill and looked at the crowded heaven, And I said to my spirit, When we become the enfolders of those orbs, and the pleasure and knowledge of everything in them, shall we be filled and satisfied then ? • And my spirit said, No, we but level that lift to pass and continue beyond? Whitman rejected rhyme, metre, and other conven- tional poetic embellishments, that he might make the very form of his message reflect the novelty of its spirit, although he had profound admiration for the great poems of the past, standing before them, he says, "with uncovered head, fully aware of their colossal grandeur and beauty." 2 He felt, also, that for him, at least, writing upon the great primal facts of nature and human life in a crude New World, the large freedom of his lines was a more sincere and adequate mode of expres- sion than regular metres and honeyed rhymes. 3 But the amount of music in Whitman's verse is usually underrated. As the passion rises, the style also rises, 1 Song of Myself. See Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking, the most beautiful of his longer poems, and When Lilacs last in the Dooryard Bloomed, for thoughts about death. 2 A Backward Glance o'er Travelled Roads. His early study of Ossian no doubt affected him. Among his Pieces in Early Youth (see the complete prose works), Blood-Money and Wounded in the House of Friends are written in irregular, unrhymed lines, and seem transitional to the manner of Leaves of Grass. Of the latter he says, with unconscious naivete, " I had great trouble in leaving out the stock 'poetical ' touches, but succeeded at last." — Specimen Days. 8 See Spirit that formed This Scene. 272 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. oftentimes into a magnificent free rhythm and a large melody, as in these lines upon Lincoln's funeral train: — With the pomp of the inlooped flags, with the cities draped in black, With the show of the States themselves as of crape-veiled women standing, . . . With dirges through the night, with the thousand voices rising strong and solemn, With all the mournful voices of the dirges poured around the coffin, The dim-lit churches and the shuddering organs — where amid these you journey, With the tolling, tolling bells' perpetual clang, Here, coffin that slowly passes, I give you my sprig of lilac. 1 Whitman's diction is usually idiomatic and strong; not infrequently, however, it becomes labored and affected. 2 He had almost no structural power, and his longer poems are mere heaps. But in the word, phrase, and paragraph he showed a rernarkable descriptive gift, his pictures pressing almost bodily upon the eye. 8 His feeling for humanity was broad, deep, and robust, if not of the finest texture. 4 In ranging through past, present, and future, his imagination sometimes takes a high as well as a wide flight, notably in Passage to India, Prayer of 1 When Lilacs last in the Dooryard Bloomed. See the whole poem for rhythms of various kinds, admirably fitted to the thought or feeling. Also Out of the Cradle Endlessly Rocking ; With Husky-Haughty Lips, O Sea ; and many more. 2 Ejnigre, long eve, deific, morbific, har binge , arriere, philosophs, elcve^ and similar words occur. 8 See Cavalry Passing a Ford, A Paumanok Picture, and Song of Myself 4 See Crossing Brooklyn Ferry, The City Dead-House, The Wound* Dresser, The Singer in the Prison, You Felons on Trial in Courts \ HUMORISTS AND ORATORS. 273 Columbus, and The Mystic Trumpeter. As a poet of nature, especially of vast areas, the night, and the sea, he is superb in untamed energy and large, elemental, impassioned imagination. Other American sea-poems seem puny in comparison with Patrolling Barnegat, *To the Man-of- War Bird, and With Husky-Haughty Lips, O Sea. It is extravagant to call Walt Whitman a great thinker or seer. He lacked spiritual refinement, and he did not know enough; there was in him, at least in earlier years, something of the rowdy, and his " robustness " is partly swagger. But he did catch, and give out again with peculiar emphasis and sense of reality, some of the largest thoughts of his day; and as we read his pages we feel the "New Spirit " blowing fresh and strong, if somewhat raw, in our faces. To some minds, at least, he is immensely suggestive and stimulating. He was not a great poet, but he had in him some of the bones of one; and he may be accepted as a crude and imper- fect prophecy, a hasty first sketch, of the thoroughly great American poet who is yet to be. Other classes of literary works in this period may be treated briefly, because they either are of small worth or do not belong strictly to the realm of pure literature. The Humorists deserve mention, but little more. The Life and Sayings of Mrs. Partington (1845), by Benjamin P. Shillaber (1814-1890), contains good sense and knowledge of human nature as well as con- siderable genuine humor. Henry W. Shaw (1818- 1885), in Josh Billings : His Book (1866), relied in part upon misspelling for his humor, but some of his epi^ T 274 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. grams are really witty and shrewd. The Nasby Papers (1864), of David R. Locke (1833 -1888), by their humorous satire did effective work for the Union cause. Charles F. Browne ("Artemus Ward") (1834-1867) owed his success as a lecturer in the United States and England considerably to his manner, which was irre- sistibly solemn; but His Book (1863), Travels (1865), and In London (1867) are full of " horse " sense and real humor of the broad type. These humorists, and their like, are, however, no more " American " than Irving, Lowell, and Holmes. The Orators deserve a volume to themselves, for this was the golden age of American oratory as well as of American poetry and fiction. Among the pulpit orators three were preeminent. William E. Channing (1780- 1842), the leader of the conservative Unitarians, won the souls of men by the sweetness of his spirit and the calm clearness of his thought and style. Theodore Parker (1810-1860), a more radical Unitarian, was a trumpeter who loved to sound the call to battle against superstition and slavery, and loud, piercing, strepitant was his note. A far greater orator than either was Henry Ward Beecher (1813-1887), of leonine aspect, who "mobbed mobs " in England, and compelled a hearing there for the Union side in the early days of the Civil War; for many years he poured forth from the pulpit of " Plymouth Church " sermons brilliant in thought, full of poetic beauty, rich and warm with the love of God and man. In Congress, during the second quarter of the century, wrestled three giants. John C. Calhoun (1782-1850), of South Carolina, was perhaps unequalled in debate — cold, keen, logical, quick to see the joint DANIEL WEBSTER. 275 in his opponent's armor, and pitiless in thrusting in the lance. The constitutional argument for the right of secession received its perfection at his hands. Henry Clay (1777-1852), senator from Kentucky, had less logical grip but more charm. His personal magnetism was great, and hence his most remarkable work was per- suading hostile factions into various compromises upon slavery. His speeches have not stood well the test of cold print. * Daniel Webster 1 is America's greatest orator, and one of the great orators of the world. His majestic presence, his coal-black eyes glowing under cavernous brows, his tremendous energy, his massive brain, and his large utterance, all proclaimed him a born king of men; and for years, despite the immorality of his private life, he was the idol of New England, her chosen spokes- man in Congress and on impressive public occasions. His first great speech was his argument in the famous Dart- mouth College case; other men have surpassed him in legal erudition, but for combination of eloquence with mastery of the broad principles of law he is still our 1 LIFE. Born at Salisbury, N. H., Jan 18, 1782; descended from Thomas Webster, of Scotch ancestry, who settled in New Hampshire in 1636 ; graduated at Dartmouth College, 1801 ; admitted to the bar, 1805 ; lor several years practised law in Portsmouth ; married, 1808 ; represen- tative from New Hampshire, 1813-1815; removed to Boston, 1816; representative from Massachusetts, 1823-1827 ; senator from Massachu- setts, 1827-1841 ; married a second time, 1829 ; secretary of state, 1841- 1843; senator from Massachusetts, 1845-1852 ; died at Marshfield, Mass., Oct. 24, 1852. Orations. Dartmouth College case, 1818. Plymouth oration, 1820. Address at the laying of the corner-stone of Bunker Hill Monument, 1825. Funeral oration on Adams and Jefferson, 1826. Reply to Hayne, 1830. Argument in the White murder case, 1830. Address at the com- pletion of Bunker Hill Monument, 1843. Seventh of March speech 1850. Etc. 276 THE LITERATURE FROM 1815 to 1870. greatest lawyer, although Rufus Choate (1799-1859) had more brilliancy of an erratic sort. Webster's fame as an "occasional " orator rests upon his Plymouth ora- tion, the two Bunker Hill Monument orations, and the oration upon Adams and Jefferson; it is sufficient praise to say that he made great occasions greater by his pres- ence and words. His eloquence reached its height in his speeches in the United States Senate, above all in the reply to Hayne, which remains the supreme con- stitutional and historical argument for national unity. Twenty years later, by his Seventh of March speech, he lost the confidence of the North, which accused him of " selling out to the South " through ambition to be Presi- dent, a verdict which the cooler judgment of a later gen- eration has seen reason to reverse. The eloquence of Webster was of the stately, massive type, carrying in its bosom a deep glow of conviction and large passion; his style is plain and strong, often sonorous, sometimes heavy; his thought, clear and logical; the total effect, Olympian. His mind was, however, of limited range compared with that of Cicero or Burke, and had less flexibility and richness; his one great idea was the Union, as the means of preserving and enlarging the splendid inheritance bequeathed to us by the founders of the Republic. The typical academic orator of this period was Edward Everett (1794-1865), Congress- man, governor of Massachusetts, minister to England, and president of Harvard College; he was elegant in manner, finished though prolix in style, and rather too fond of extempore effects carefully prepared. * Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865), a great debater, as his campaign struggle with Stephen A. Douglas (1813-1861) proved, THE HISTORIANS. 277 has left one masterpiece of brief, pregnant political oratory, in the purest English, his address at the dedi- cation of the Gettysburg monument. Wendell Phillips (1811-1884), the great orator of the abolition cause, was not a Trior's hammer, like Webster, but a Damascus blade, graceful, rapid, flashing, with a terrible cutting- edge. In sarcasm and invective he was unsurpassed, and his presence and style were those of a gentleman and an aristocrat. His exaggeration, mental reckless- ness, and comparative poverty of thought, however, prevent his printed speeches from standing high as lit- erature. Webster's successor in the Senate, Charles Sumner (1811-1874), of cold and egotistic personality but of high principles and stainless integrity, in his somewhat labored orations also fought a courageous fight for freedom and national honor. George W. Curtis (1824-1892), whose charming essays and other writings merit more than this passing reference, in his political, anniversary, and biographical addresses pre- sented a rare combination of the orator, man of letters, and "scholar in politics." The works of several Historians have so much literary merit that they cannot be passed by wholly without mention here. William H. Prescott (1796-1859), in spite of partial blindness, produced memorable histories; Ferdinand and Isabella (1837), *The Conquest of Mexico (1843), and The Conquest of Peru (1847), dealing with some of the most romantic events in the world's annals, combine much patient labor with a luminous and enter- taining style. The History of the United States? by l In ten volumes, appearing seriatim in 1834, 1837, 1840, 1852, 1853 1854, 1858, i86q 1866, 1874 ; revised edition, in six volumes, 1883-1885. 278 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1900. George Bancroft (1800-1891), secretary of the navy, and minister to Great Britain and Germany, has less charm of manner, and the earlier volumes are marred by a somewhat turgid Americanism ; but it embodies an immense amount of careful labor and research. John Lothrop Motley (1814-1877), minister to Austria and England, is the most dramatic of our historians, like Carlyle laying much emphasis upon great personalities and their influence in shaping history; * The Rise of the Dutch Republic (1856) and The History of the United Netherlands (1860-1868) are more brilliant in style than Bancroft's writings, and deeper than Prescott's. * Francis Parkman (1823-1893), in spite of an affection of the eyes, wrote voluminously 1 and with great thor- oughness upon the discovery of the West by early ex- plorers and upon the struggle between Great Britain and France for supremacy in North America ; his style, though perhaps too high-colored at times, is pictur- esque and powerful, and his books are nothing less than fascinating. All these historians were of New England birth, and contributed in no small degree to the literary preeminence of that section during the period to which they belonged. 1 The California and Oregon Trail, 1849. The History of the Con- spiracy of Pontiac, 1851. Pioneers of France in the New World, 1865. The Jesuits in North America in the Seventeenth Century, 1867. La Salle : or the Discovery of the Great West, 1869. The Old Regime in Canada, 1874. Count Frontenac and New France under Louis XIV., 1877. Montcalm and Wolfe, 1884. Etc. GENERAL CONDITIONS. 279 3. THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. HISTORICAL EVENTS. Grant's administrations, 1869-1877. Fifteenth Amendment adopted, 1870. Alabama Award, 1871. General Amnesty Act, 1872. Business panic, 1873. Discovery of gold in Black Hills, 1874. Hayes's administration, 1877-1881. Troops withdrawn from Southern states, 1877. Garfield and Arthur's administra- tion, 1881-1885. Garfield assassinated, 1881. Cleveland's administration, 1885- 1889. American Federation of Labor or- ganized, 1886. Interstate Commerce Law, 1887. Harrison's administration, 1889- 1893. Sherman Anti-Trust Law, 1890. People's Party formed, 1892. Cleveland's second administration, many, 1917- 1893-1897. Since the close of the Civil War and the period of Reconstruction the population of the United States has grown at an astonishing rate. The thirty-eight millions of 1870 had become ninety-two millions in 19 10, and the present population is estimated at more than a hun- dred millions, not including the Philippines and other island possessions. The increase in wealth has been even greater. In 1870 the total wealth of the country was estimated at $30,000,000,000; in 1912, at $187,- 000,000, 000. l For some years the United States has 1 Considerable allowance must be made, however, for rise in valua- tion. Business panic, 1893. Great railway strike, 1894. Cleveland's message on boundary dispute between Venezuela and Great Britain, 1895. Free silver campaign, 1896. McKinley's administration, 1897- 1901. Spanish-American War, 1898. McKinley and Roosevelt's admin- istration, 1901-1905. McKinley assassinated, 1901. Roosevelt's administration, 1905- 1909. Business panic, 1907. Panama Canal begun, 1907. Taft's administration, 1909-1913. Wilson's administration, 1913- 1917. Panama Canal finished, 1914. Wilson's second administration, 1917- United States at war with Ger- 28o THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. produced more wheat, oats, cotton, coal, copper, lead, and cattle than any other country; and in 19 12 its out- put of iron and steel was greater than that of Great Britain and Germany combined. Imports rose from $461,122,056 in 1870 to $1,792,183,645 in 1913, and exports from $403,586,010 to $2,484,311,176. Other changes have accompanied this increase in population and wealth, some as causes and some as effects. The frontier of pioneer days, with its wild and romantic life, has disappeared, except in Alaska ; and there has been a great growth of cities, the census of 1910 showing over a hundred of more than fifty thou- sand inhabitants, five of more than half a million, and three of more than a million. This concentration in cities has made life more comfortable and at the same time more high-strung and nervous ; and many inven- tions and conveniences — the telephone, wireless teleg- raphy, the use of electricity as a source of power and light, the gasoline engine, the automobile — have tended in the same direction. The increase in wealth has raised the standard of living for the mass of the peo- ple, while it has enabled the multi-millionaire to live in more than princely magnificence and has deepened the discontent of " the lower classes." The power of or- ganization, first revealed by the Civil War, was applied in ever-widening scope to industry, until vast "Trusts," controlling hundreds of millions of dollars and prac- tically monopolizing many basic industries, became a menace to the economic and political rights of the peo- ple. This danger has been met in part by laws for the control of great combinations of capital and in part by the organization of workingmen into unions and fed- GENERAL CONDITIONS. 281 erations of unions on a colossal scale. New religious, ethical, educational, and political tendencies have been no less significant. Materialism and agnosticism, often attended by license in morals, have gained ground, favored by the allurement of wealth and the question- ing temper of physical science. Old forms of faith have lost much of their hold, especially upon the intel- lectual class and the working people. On the other hand, liberal leaders in all churches have striven to readjust religious thought and forms to the needs of modern times, and sectarian lines are more and more yielding to a spirit of brotherhood in the worship of God and the service of man. Philanthropy, guided by science, is working more intelligently than ever before for the prevention and cure of poverty, sickness, igno- rance, and crime. The schools, colleges, and univer- sities are more efficiently developing in millions the intelligence indispensable to citizens of a republic, and more thoroughly training hundreds of thousands of both men and women to be leaders in humane culture, po- litical and social reform, and the application of science to everyday life. The existence of large cities has made possible the rise of a noble architecture, the founding of great libraries, museums, and galleries and schools of art, and the support of opera companies, or- chestras, and lecture courses that bring a wider view and a richer life to multitudes. The massing of wealth has resulted in the formation of private collections of rare books and priceless works of art that act power- fully through a few upon the aesthetic sense of the many. The flood of immigrants from all quarters of the globe, although a grave menace to national unity, 282 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. has broadened the sympathies and enriched the spirit of the American people as a whole, adding to the com- monsense, strength, and justice of the original Anglo- Saxon stock something of the distinctive merits of many races. Lastly, the Great War has swept the nation fully into the currents of the world's life, bringing it into vital union with Europe, and thrilling it with the realiza- tion of its destined part in the establishment of justice, kindness, and lasting peace among all nations That all these facts and tendencies have more or less direct relation to the literature produced in the United States during the last half century will appear even in a cursory review of American prose and poetry since the Civil War. One who compares American literature of the last fifty years with that of the preceding half century will be struck first of all by the scarcity of great writers, the very large number of minor authors, and the high aver- age of talent shown, especially in prose. This literary talent is well distributed, New England and the Middle States having lost the preeminence they once had. The lack of a literary metropolis deprives American authors of a valuable stimulus and hinders an ail-American point of view : yet the fact that our men of letters work alone, or in literary centres far apart in space and widely different in temper and traditions, encourages originality and the use of varied material ; and if we ever have a more unitary and national literature, these pictures of local conditions in North, South, and West will prove to have been of much value as preliminary studies. Largely because of such studies there has emerged another marked feature of the new literature, PROSE FICTION. 283 its Americanism in subject and spirit. While American writers are more cosmopolitan than ever before in the sense of being open to the cultures of the world, foreign influence as a whole is relatively less apparent than for- merly, and American literature is much more the product of American soil. This is due in part to the Civil War, which brought the country to a new sense of its power and even of its fundamental unity, for during that strug- gle the men of the East and the West and the South came to know one another better, recognizing in com- rades and foes alike a common Americanism. The fading away of the Old South as a result of the war, and the disappearance of the most picturesque features of the West in the recent rapid expansion of population and wealth, gave a heightened value to these aspects of American life in the eyes of writers and readers. To these causes has been added of late a growing feeling of independence, the natural result of greater maturity and power. The present generation cares less than did its forefathers for the censure or the approval of Europe, and is rather amused than irritated by Old World mis- understanding and condescension, feeling that if it has much to learn it has also much to teach. The most abundant and most broadly representative form of literature in America, as elsewhere, during the last half century, has been Prose Fiction. The reasons for this fact are apparent. Most modern readers want easy reading, either because they are unequal to any- thing difficult, or because they read chiefly for relaxa- tion ; the pecuniary returns from a popular novel are therefore large and tempt many writers to employ their talent in supplying the immense demand. The flexi- 284 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. bility of the form, moreover, and its fitness for vivid and intimate portrayal of all phases of life, make it peculiarly adapted to recent American subject-matter. Much American fiction has taken the form of the Short Story, which in some respects fits modern conditions even better than the novel : those who live on the jump need something short enough to be read between jumps ; the high tension of modern life, especially in this country, has begotten a semi-artistic impatience of padding and dawdling ; and local characters and cus- toms provide abundant material for terse and sugges- tive treatment. Under the influence of the scientific temper, with its passion for truth and its belief that nothing is more worthy of study than common things, American fiction, like European, has come to be largely dominated by Realism. American realism for many years avoided certain phases of French and Russian realism ; in the last decade or two, however, the rela- tions of the sexes have been presented with considera- ble freedom, although on the whole with decency and good taste. An account of American prose fiction since the Civil War may best begin with the studies of local conditions in North, South, and West. Studies of New England life had been made before 1870 by Harriet Beecher Stowe (1812-1896) in The Minister's Wooing (1859), The Pearl of Orr's Island (1862), and Old Town Folks (1869), the first and last describing religious and social conditions in Rhode Island and Massachusetts in the early years of the Republic, and the second narrating the lives of simple folk on the coast of Maine ; the manner is too leisurely PROSE FICTION. 285 for present taste, but the pictures give truly and vividly much of the essence of New England life and character. Henry Ward Beecher (1813-1887), in Norwood (1867), did the same thing, less skilfully, for the period of the Civil War, including one of the earliest fictitious portraits of Lincoln. Rose Terry Cooke (182 7-1892), a pioneer in the more terse and realistic manner, put into her stories the intimate knowledge of rural life and character gained by teaching school, beginning with Miss Lucinda (in The Atlantic Monthly, 1861) and continuing many years ; Somebody \s Neighbors (1881) is a collection of some of her best stories, although The Deacon's Week (1885) is preferred by some readers. Harriet Prescott Spofford (1835- ), who, after partial success in romantic fiction and poetry, turned to more realistic work in such sketches as A Village Dressmaker and A Rural Telephone, strikes a deeper note, combining realism of setting with the romance of passion, and suffusing the whole with a poetic atmos- phere ; this is particularly true of The Wages of Sin in Old Madame and Other Tragedies (1899). Sarah Orne Jewett (1849-1909) writes with gentle sympathy and delicate truthfulness of life along the Maine coast, interpreting the quiet nobility of simple men and women in whom still survive the best traditions of the earlier New England, with special fondness for taciturn old sailors; Deephaven (1877),^ Country Doctor (1884), and The Country of the Pointed Firs (1896) show her at her best. Mary E. Wilkins Freeman (1862- ) excels Miss Jewett in artistic concentration upon single effects, and draws with remarkable precision and sure- ness of hand, but she has less breadth and geniality, 286 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. painting in water-colors the more neutral and cramped types of Yankee character; A Humble Romance (1887) and A New England Nun and Other Stories (1891) remain her classic work, her so-called novels, Pembroke (1894) and Jerome, a Poor Young Man (1897) lacking structural unity, and her latest short stories showing a sad decline. Annie Trumbull Slosson (1838- ) in Seven Dreamers (1890), and other dialect stories, describes, with mingled humor and pathos inclining toward religious sentimentality, various odd characters in rural Connecticut and New Hampshire. The more refreshing and enjoyable by contrast with the feminine delicacy of these women writers are the masculine vigor and broad humor of Rowland E. Robinson (1833-1900), who faithfully portrays the rural Ver- monter in Uncle Lis ha' s Shop (1887) and several other collections of dialect sketches. Alice Brown (1857- ), much overrated at present, in her dialect stories, Meadow Grass (1895), Tiverton Tales (1899), The County Road (1906), etc., added nothing to pre- vious studies of New England life except more emo- tionalism ; she makes overmuch of old maids' platonic substitutes for marriage, and her style lacks simplicity and naturalness; her novels, such as Paradise (1905) and The Story of Thyrza (1909), are deficient in con- structive power and grasp of passion ; her play, Chil- dren of Earth (1915), similar in theme to her stories, was a failure on the stage, and is little better as a closet-drama. The Middle States have furnished relatively few sub- jects for local studies in recent prose fiction. Henry C. Bunner (1855-1896) wrote stories brilliant in tech- PROSE FICTION 287 nique, which he learned in part from Maupassant and Boccaccio. The Midge (1886), with touch equally deli- cate in humor and pathos, portrays life in the French quarter of New York City, although the central char- acter is an American of the finest type. The Story of a New York House (1887) describes with artistic restraint even in its most pathetic passages the decay of a New York family through three generations. Zadoc Pine and Other Stories (1891) and Short Sixes (1891) are collections of short stories, vivacious, witty, and whole- some. Richard Harding Davis (1864-1916) has pic- tured New York club and street life humorously and racily in Gallegher and Other Stories (1891) and Van Bibber and Others (1892). Rural New York is de- scribed with grim realism by Harold Frederic (1856- 1898) in Sethis Brother's Wife (1887). His Da??ination of Theron Ware (1896) is a powerful though not wholly consistent account of the deterioration of a bright but shallow Methodist minister under the influ- ence of a sceptical priest and an " emancipated " young woman ; incidentally the novel exposes the methods of vulgar revivalists and " debt-raisers " and the sordid bigotry in some country churches. David Hatwn (1898), by Edward N. Westcott (1847-1898), a faith- ful and very human study of a shrewd New York coun- try banker, is a valuable addition to the portraits of American types, in spite of the wooden love story which was foisted upon the main subject. The Far West has supplied material for some of the most romantic American fiction. The most famous portrayer of life in the mining camps of California, Francis Bret Harte (1839-1902), was a native of 288 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. New York State but lived in California from 1854 to 187 1. His earliest writings were inspired by the old Spanish civilization of the Southwest ; but with The Luck of Roaring Camp (1870) and The Outcasts of Poker Flat (1870) he began that long series of tales and sketches 1 which have made famous throughout the world the romance of the gold-fever days on the Pacific slope. Harte returned to the East in 187 1, and after 1878 lived in Europe; but to the end of his days he continued to work the vein which had proved so rich at the start. It cannot be said that he describes life in California as a whole, even in its early years, and his pictures of miners and sharpers are charged with the emotionalism and exaggeration of his master, Dickens ; but his best work is remarkable for vividness, pathos, and revelation of the soul of goodness in men evil. Mary Hallock Foote (1847- ), the wife of a mining engineer, in The Led-Horse Claim (1883), The Chosen Valley (1892), Cozur D' Alene (1894), and many other stories, follows in the footsteps of Harte but afar off ; her characters are conventional, and the setting in the mining country of the Far West lacks definite out- lines and strong color. A more recent writer, Eugene Manlove Rhodes (1869- ), author of Good Men and True (191 1), Bransford in Arcadia (19 14), etc., tells dashing tales of real men and women of the Southwest, in a style which by reason of its zest and gay courage has much of the flavor of Stevenson. 1 Mrs. Skagg's Husbands, 1872; Tales of the Argonauts, and Other Stories, 1875; T ne Twins of Table Mountain, 1879; In the Carquinez Woods, 1883; Snowbound at Eagle's, 1886; A Phyllis of the Sierras, 1888; A Sappho of Green Springs, 1891 ; The Three Partners, 1897; Under the Redwoods, 1901 ; etc., etc. PROSE FICTION. 2 8 9 The Middle West has been the source of a large amount of prose fiction, mostly realistic but not without elements of romance. The greatest of the writers of this section is Samuel L. Clemens, 1 better known as " Mark Twain." His works include much that is in no way connected with the West, but it is the least signifi- cant part. Innocents Abroad contains a great deal that is flat, stale, and unprofitable even as humor ; and its criticisms upon European life and art, although they may be granted the merit of a rough sincerity, are equally conspicuous for crudity and ignorance. A Con- necticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court is an amusing satire on chivalry, but is crassly blind to the truth and beauty of mediaeval romance. The Prince and the Pauper and Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc, written in fin- ished style and showing considerable historical imagi- nation, yet have no high degree of originality. The Mysterious Stranger, describing the cruel, non-moral acts of an angel who amuses himself with human lives iLlFE. Born in Florida, Mo., Nov. 30, 1835. Educated in the com- mon schools, Hannibal, Mo. Apprenticed to a printer, 1848, and worked in Philadelphia, New York, and elsewhere. Mississippi River pilot, 1858-1861. Engaged in newspaper work and mining in Far West, 1862-1866. Visited Sandwich Islands, 1866; on return, began lecturing in various parts of the United States. Visited Europe and the Holy Land, 1867. Married Olivia L. Langdon, 1870. During the rest of his life resided mostly in Hartford and New York, engaged in writing and lecturing. Given degree of Litt.D. by Yale, 1901 ; by Oxford, 1907, Died, 1910. Works. The Jumping Frog, 1867. The Innocents Abroad, 1869. Roughing It, 1873. The Gilded Age (with C. D. Warner), 1873. The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, 1876. A Tramp Abroad, 1880. The Prince and the Pauper, 1881. Life on the Mississippi, 1883. The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, 1884. A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, 1889. Pudd'nhead Wilson, 1894. Personal Recollections oi Joan of Arc, 1896. The Mysterious Stranger, 1916. Etc., etc. 290 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. in an Austrian village of the sixteenth century, is a bitter attack upon orthodox religion, and ends with the statement that all reality is only a thought " wan- dering forlorn among the empty eternities " ; the book is astonishingly vivid, and contains some delightful bits of humor, but as a religious and philosophical critique it is shallow. But in his books on the West, preemi- nently in Life on the Mississippi, Tom Sawyer, Huckle- berry Finn, and Pudd'nhead Wilson, he is master of his subject and handles it with originality and truth ; he sketches scenery, customs, social conditions, and human nature (including boy nature) with a large, free hand, his humor is fresh and powerful, and his style has the ease and sweep of the great river itself. These books constitute his distinctive contribution to literature. He himself would have scornfully rejected this view, for he prided himself most on his ability as a satirist and radi- cal philosopher ; but the verdict of time will be that he could see and describe far better than he could think, and that even his humor is less valuable than his work as a painter of American life in the Mississippi Valley in days that have passed away forever. One purpose and one spirit, nevertheless, pervade all his work, giving it a certain unity — the spirit of democ- racy, and the purpose to assert democracy in oppo- sition to all forms of oppression and subserviency. These are the deepest inspiration of his pictures of life in the free West, of his strictures upon European life past and present, of his attacks upon what he deemed superstition and ecclesiastical tyranny every- where ; and his writings as a whole reveal him more and more clearly as a robust and uncompromising PROSE FICTION. 291 though not wholly wise lover of freedom and the com- mon man. Many lesser writers have described life in the Middle West. Edward Eggleston (1837-1902), a Methodist minister, wrote of early days in Indiana with freshness and truth, although somewhat crudely and with over- emphasis on moral lessons, in The Hoosier Schoolmaster (187 1), The Circuit Rider (1874), and Roxy (1878). Conditions in Iowa and Arkansas were sketched viva- ciously by Alice French (" Octave Thanet ")(i85o- ), some of whose best work may be found in Knitters in the Sun (1887) and Stories of a Western Town (1893). More powerful is Hamlin Garland (i860- ), whose Main-Travelled Roads (1S91) pictures with grim realism the hardships of the Western farmer in his monotonous struggle with poverty ; his later works, such as The Eagle's Heart (1900) and Moccasin Ranch, a Story of Dakota (1909), are better as stories but have less reality and force. In lighter vein, and dealing with town rather than farm life, are The Gentleman from Indiana (1899) and The Conquest of Canaan (1905), by Booth Tark- ington (1869- ). Owen Wister (i860- ), in The Virginian (1902), paints the character and experi- ences of a Wyoming cowboy with gusto for primitive passion and life in the open. The South, always the home of passion and romance, has risen from the ashes of the war into new and greater life in literature as well as in industry. The old Spanish and French civilization in Louisiana makes that region peculiarly inviting to the writer of romance. George W. Cable (1844- ), a native of New Orleans although of Virginian and New England 292 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. stock, first made use of the literary possibilities in this richly complex life. ; ' Sieur George came out in Scribner's Monthly in 1873, and six other stories followed during the next few years, the seven being reprinted in book form as Old Creole Days in 1879. The book has the freshness of first work in a rich field, and won a high reputation ; but in spite of its lasting merits as an in- terpretation of the beauty, pathos, and humor of Creole character, it has obvious defects, notably the lack of narrative unity and climax in most of the sketches and the excessive sentimentality in some. Madame Del- phine (1881), the story of an octoroon who denies her motherhood that her daughter may marry a white man, is much more powerful. The Grandissimes (1880), pitched in the beginning of the nineteenth century, is Mr. Cable's best work, combining into a richly varied yet harmonious whole very vivid pictures of high-spirited Creole families, of Americans and European immi- grants, and of negroes bond and free. Dr. Sevier (18S4), a novel of the Civil War, is his poorest book, incoherent in structure, feeble in characterization, and overweighted at the end with religious didacticism. It is commonly said in New Orleans that Mr. Cable's descriptions of life in the higher Creole circles, to which he never had admission, are not accurate ; how- ever that may be, he has certainly made the Creole a striking figure in American literature. Another native of New Orleans, Grace Elizabeth King (1852- ), I educated in a fashionable Creole school and resident for some time in France, in Monsieur Motte (1888) and Balcony Stories (1893) has painted pictures of Creole life more delicate and vivacious, more French in atmos- PROSE FICTION. 293 phere and method, than Cable's, but also more pale and slight ; her sketches are pastels, feminine in point of view, with occasional touches of mysticism. Kate Chopin (1851-1904) in Bayou Folk (1894) and A Night in Arcadie and Other Stories (1897) showed a gift for concise, dramatic narratives of incidents in the lives of Louisiana country people. The other Southern States have also supplied abun- dant subjects for stories and novels. Two Northern writers living in the South were early impressed by the conditions which faced them during the painful period of Reconstruction. Albion W. Tourgee (1 838-1905) dealt chiefly with the political aspects of the situation in A FooPs Errand (1879) and Bricks without Straw (1880), which have vigor and dash although deficient in finer qualities. Constance Fenimore Woolson (1 848-1 894), a grandniece of Cooper the novelist, dur- ing several years of residence in Florida, Georgia, the Carolinas, and Virginia, found material for a long list of stories and novels, of which Rodman the Keeper (1880), Anne (1882), East Angels (1886), and Jupiter Lights (1889) may be mentioned. The marked charac- teristics of her work are its delicacy, its finish, and the sympathy with which it portrays the pathos and nobil- ity of Southern character in defeat and poverty. Of many native writers Richard M. Johnston (1822-1898) was first in the field with Georgia Sketches (1864), followed by Dukesborough Tales (187 1) and many other stories, in which typical Georgia scenes and characters are described in a homely and humorous way. Mary N. Murfree (1850- ), whose pseudo- nym (" Charles Egbert Craddock ") and masculine style 294 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. at first deceived every one as to her sex, painted the scenery and mountaineers of Tennessee with remark- able vigor and beauty in many stories and novels, of which In the Tennessee Mountains (1884), The Prophet of the Great Smoky Mou?i tains (1885), In the Clouds (1886), and The Mystery of Witchface Mountains (1895) are among the best known ; her gift is rather for the picturesque and external than for the deeper heart of things, and her later work suffers from overworking a relatively shallow vein. Virginian life glows on the pages of Thomas Nelson Page (1853-/5x1), whose Marse Chan (1884) and other stories were collected and published in 1887 as In Ole Virginia; they picture the Old South in its romance and glamour, and are put into the lips of slaves, whose dialect heightens threefold the pathos and beauty of the whole. Mr. Page has published many other tales, of somewhat less merit; Red Rock (1898), the first of his novels, deals with the days of Recon- struction in a fair spirit, but is inferior to his best short stories. Somewhat similar in spirit and execu- tion is Colonel Ca?'ter of Carter sville (189 1) by F. Hop- kinson Smith (1838-1915), an admirable sketch of one type of Southern gentleman, a Virginian Colonel Newcome in his lovable simplicity and nobility. Mr. Smith's other fiction, on various subjects, is of a much lower class. James Lane Allen (1849- ) m n ^ s stories and sketches, such as Flute and Violin (189 1) and A Kentucky Cardinal (1894), and in his novels, such as Summer in A ready (1896), The Choir Invisible (1897), The Reign of law (1900), and The Mettle of the Pasture (1903), writes with a poet's sensuousness of PROSE FICTION. 295 nature and passion in luxuriant Kentucky; but his descriptions are too elaborate, his style is weakened by emotionalism verging on the voluptuous, his plots are slight and tame, and his insight into character is not deep or subtle enough to compensate for the deficiency in narrative interest. Another Kentucky writer, John Fox, Jr. (1863- ), is less ambitious and more suc- cessful in A Cumberland Vendetta and Other Stories (1896), The Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come (1903), and In Happy Valley (19 17), which contain admirable portraits of mountaineers, intense, proud, shy, hardly articulate, the secluded survivors of a strong race of eighteenth-century immigrants ; the fierce feuds, the wild life of moonshiner and outlaw, the tragedy that often comes with the introduction of modern refinement into these primitive regions, are told with simplicity and restraint yet with unusual power. The primitive, poetic imagination of the Negro race is revealed with remarkable skill by Joel Chandler Harris (1 848-1 908) in Uncle Remus, his Songs and Sayings (1881), Nights with Uncle Remus (1883), and Uncle Remus and his Friends (1892), which in addition to having high literary merit are real contributions to folklore. The dialect and irrepressible humor of the Negro, together with the pathetic fidelity and delicacy of feeling in the finer types, are cleverly portrayed in The Golden Wedding and Other Tales (1893), Moriah's Mourning (1898), River's Children (1905), and other tales and sketches by Ruth McEnery Stuart (1856- ). Somewhat akin to these studies of local conditions are the novels on American history. Many things contributed to cause an outburst of this species of 296 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. prose fiction : the popularity of European historical novels ; the works of Parkman and Fiske, combining historical accuracy with romantic coloring and dramatic intensity ; reaction from the depressing realistic novel ; and quickened patriotism after the Spanish-American War, reenforcing the national pride and sense of power which followed on the reestablishment of the Union. The result was a flood of fiction compounded of history and romance in greatly varying proportions. Lewis Wallace (1827-1905) was a forerunner in this field with his Fair God (1873), a story of the early Spanish regime in the New World, full of dash and color, but rather flashy than truly brilliant, like his better known Ben Hur, a Tale of the Christ (1880). Mary Hart- well Catherwood (1847-1902), a somewhat later pioneer, in The Romance of Dollard (1888), The Lady of Fort St. John (1891), The Chase of St. Castin (1894), etc., pictured the achievements of French explorers and settlers in Canada with glowing colors and much vivac- ity of style, although her work cannot be ranked very high either as historical fiction or as a study of human nature. S. Weir Mitchell (1829-1914), a brilliant and versatile physician, achieved his greatest success as an author in Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker (1897), a novel of the American Revolution ; there is too much antiquarian detail regarding Philadelphia, the centre of the action, and the character-portrayal is somewhat conventional, but the story as a whole is vivid and pleasing, and reaches true pathos in the picture of Andre's last hours. Early Virginian history has been treated skilfully, although quite without touch of great- ness, by Mary Johnston (1870- ) in Prisoners of PROSE FICTION. 297 Hope (1898), To Have and to Hold (1900), Audrey (1902), etc. Paul Leicester Ford (1865-1902), a diligent student of American history, is still rather historian than novelist in Janice Meredith (1899); the action of the novel covers the whole period of the American Revolution, and although the love story begins piquantly enough, it is soon apparent that the heroine is being moved mercilessly from place to place in order to keep her affairs and the historical events together. The strength of the book is in the truth and vividness of the historical pictures, in which the brutal- ity, cowardice, and treachery of some of the Revolu- tionists are candidly revealed ; the portrait of Washing- ton, however, although frankly human, is not powerful enough to be true to the original. Maurice Thompson (1844-1901) produced a very popular novel in Alice of Old Vincennes (1900), dealing with events in Indiana under the French during the Revolutionary War. Two writers already mentioned, Mrs. Freeman and Miss Jewett, attempted historical fiction with small success, the former in The Hearfs Highway (1900), a story of Virginia in the seventeenth century, and the latter in The Tory Lover (190 1). The deepening interest in political, economic, and sociological problems, which were being forced to the front by the rapid growth in population and wealth, also found expression in prose fiction. The misfortunes of the Indians, driven off their lands by the ever-spreading flood of white settlers, and often cheated by unprin- cipled government agents, aroused Helen Hunt Jack- son (1831-1885) (whose pen-name, " H. H.," had long been familiar to readers of stories and verse in the maga- 298 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. zines) to write Ramona (1884), in which she painted the wrongs of the race in the sufferings of Ramona and Alessandro ; the book is a beautiful romance of Spanish- American life in southern California, but the leading characters are not representative Indians either in character or fortunes, and, as Professor Pattee says, the " background . . . dominated and destroyed her prob- lem." The increasing unrest in the world of labor was treated, unsympathetically and from the individualistic point of view, in The Stillwater Tragedy (1880) of Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836-1907), and in The Bread- Winners (1883), now generally attributed to John Hay (1838-1905), who showed in its pages the literary skill but not the broad outlook which he re- vealed later in his work as a statesman. Socialism furnished the inspiration for Edward Bellamy (1850- 1898) in Looking Backward (1888), which pictures the ideal society of 2000 a.d. in contrast with the present ; Equality (1897), containing far more economics than story, had worse than the usual fate of sequels to popular works. In the last decade of the century, amidst the growing intensity of industrial life, there sprang up a school of fiction which dealt with social and economic problems in a more powerful way, in manner following the lead of Kipling, Zola, Tolstoi, and other European realists. Stephen Crane (1870-1900), journalist and war-cor- respondent, in Maggie, a Girl of the Streets (1891), de- picted slum life in New York with painful fidelity and frankness ; good critics consider it his best work, although The Red Badge of Corn-age (1895), a story of the Civil War, was far more popular. Frank Norris PROSE FICTION. 299 (1870- 1902), also a war-correspondent and a disciple of French and Russian realists, after writing some repul- sive but vigorous stories, set to work upon three novels which were to constitute " an Epic of the Wheat " : The Octopus (190 1 ), on the fight of wheat-growers against a railroad in California ; The Pit (1903), on a deal in the Chicago wheat-pit ; and The Wolf, left unfinished, on the relief of a famine in Europe. The first novel has something of epic largeness in its pictures of the great wheat fields and the colossal power and impersonal cruelty of a railroad corporation ; the second is on a smaller scale, but has much intensity ; both suffer from violence and over-coloring, and like their Russian models they seem at times to revel in blind, irrational passion for its own sake. Calmer but also less forceful is The Honorable Peter Stirling (1894), by Paul Leices- ter Ford (1865-1902), in which a statesman (appar- ently modelled upon President Cleveland) sturdily opposes corruption in politics. Socialism, not mild of temper like that in Looking Backward, but radical and militant, is the driving force behind The Jungle (1906), by Upton Sinclair (1878- ), which paints the miseries of Lithuanian immigrants in the stockyards of Chicago, where greed rends human lives like a beast of prey ; the book is lurid and hysterical until near the end, where the expo- sition of socialism, through the lips of a German radi- cal, makes a tame ending for a tale so full of sound and fury. Mr. Sinclair's King Coal (19 17), on condi- tions in some of the coal mines in Colorado, is a more convincing book because more human and moderate ; the characters, too, are better conceived and portrayed, \ 300 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. especially Mary Burke, the miner's daughter, whose craving for a richer life makes a strong appeal. The newly aroused social conscience and its condemnation of unscrupulous methods in "big business" are set forth by William Allen White (1868- ) in A Cer- tain Rich Man (1909), the tale of a pioneer Kansas town, one of whose sons, after gaining vast wealth un- justly, comes to a better mind and makes what restitu- tion he can ; the portrait of the rich man is mechanical and unnatural, the painter being more intent upon teaching a lesson than upon making a true likeness, while the best part of the book, the human fellowship among high and low citizens of the town, based on early experiences together, is not closely related to the main subject. There remain for consideration several writers of fiction whose work cannot well be classified under any one of the preceding heads. Edward Everett Hale (1822-1909), who wrote stories and novels almost to the end of his long life, is best known by two short tales of his early period, My Double and How He Undid Me (1859), an amusing social satire on boredom, and The Man without a Coun- try (1863), which still holds its place as a classic for its patriotism and pathos ; but mention may also be made of Philip Nolan's Friends (1876), whose hero is a gallant Kentuckian, " the proto-martyr to Mexican treachery." Thomas Bailey Aldrich (1836-1907) first gained fame in the field of fiction by his Story of a Bad Boy (1869), a permanently delightful picture of boy life ; his later stories and novels, Marjorie Daw and Other Stories (1873), Prudence Palfrey\\^\) % The PROSE FICTION. 301 Queen of Sheba (1877), Two Bites at a Cherry and Other Tales (1893), etc., on a wide range of subjects, are char- acterized chiefly by finish of workmanship and bright- ness of tone. Frank R. Stockton (1834-1902), one of the most amusing of American writers, charmingly wholesome partly because he had no " message," had a remarkable knack of getting his characters into ludi- crous situations by a series of steps each perfectly natu- ral by itself ; of his many works there is space to name only Rudder Grange (1879), ^he Lady or the Tiger ? and Other Stories (1884), and The Casting Away of Mrs. Leeks and Mrs. Aleshine (1886). Henry James, Jr., 1 may still be included among American authors because of his birth and his interest in American types, although his training was largely European and his long residence abroad ended in his 1 LIFE. Born in New York City, April 15, 1843. Educated in pri- vate schools abroad and German universities ; attended Harvard Law School, 1862-1865. After 1869 lived chiefly abroad ; settled in England, 1880, living in London and Rye, Sussex. Unmarried. Became a British subject, 1915. Received Order of Merit from the King, Jan. 1, 1916. Died Feb. 28, 1916. WORKS. Watch and Ward, 1871. A Passionate Pilgrim, 1875. Roderick Hudson, 1875. The American, 1877. French Poets and Novelists, 1878. The Europeans, 1878. Daisy Miller, 1878. Haw- thorne, in English Men of Letters Series, 1879. Washington Square, 1880. The Portrait of a Lady, 1881. A Little Tour in France, 1884. The Art of Fiction (with Walter Besant), 1884. The Bostonians, 1886. Princess Casamassima, 1886. Partial Portraits, 1888. The Aspern Papers, 1888. The Tragic Muse, 1890. Guy Domville, acted 1895. What Maisie Knew, 1897. The Awkward Age, 1899. The Sacred Fount, 1901. The Wings of the Dove, 1902. The Ambassadors, 1903. The Golden Bowl, 1904. The Question of Our Speech, 1905. The Lesson of Balzac, 1905. The American Scene, 1907. The High Bid (a play) , 1909. A Small Boy and Others (autobiographical) , 1913. Notes of a Son and Brother (autobiographical), 1913. The Middle Years (autobiographical), 1917. The Ivory Tower (unfinished), 1917. The Sense of the Past (unfinished), 1917. Etc. 302 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. becoming a British subject. The most obvious fact about his writings is the result of this internationalism in his own experience : he was the creator of one form of the international novel. During the first half of his career he wrote chiefly of the contrasts between the crude civilization of the New World and the mellow culture of Europe, but in later years American figures appeared less often in his pages. The deeper and more essential characteristics of his work from first to last are his psychological realism, the exquisite refinement of his culture, and the finish and subtlety of his art. Being chiefly interested in the most elusive motives and mental processes of his characters, he goes into elabo- rate analyses of the inner world of thought and feeling, and meanwhile the action stops. Novels such as he produced cannot be popular, nor are they meant to be ; they can be justified as art only if the class of readers for whom they are intended finds them pleasing. In the case of Mr. James's novels there is evidence that most of his readers find them fascinating by reason of the author's subtlety of insight, and perhaps even more because of his singular skill in creating for the reader the very atmosphere in which the minds of the charac- ters live and breathe. This peculiar power may be felt at its best in such later novels as The Wings of the Dove and The Ambassadors. It must be granted that Mr. James's style grew increasingly intellectual and difficult with years, and that he developed certain irri- tating mannerisms. He apparently became incapable of saying a simple thing simply. But it was usually not a simple but a very complex and subtle thing he was trying to say ; his task was therefore a difficult PROSE FICTION. 303 one, and on the whole his style compels admiration for its remarkable precision, delicacy, and intellectual beauty. It has been objected that his culture is too largely aesthetic, too little moral ; that taste, not right, is his standard of character and conduct. It is not true, however, that he ignores the moral aspect of life ; without didacticism, merely by psychological analysis, he shows the tragic inadequacy of the aesthetic divorced from the ethical, as in Roderick Hicdson, and arouses admiration for the quiet heroism of the strong, self- denying nature, like that of Strether in The Ambassa- dors. The moral values in Mr. James's novels are just ; that he did not insist more upon the ethical side of life, but made so much of social, artistic, and intellectual refinement, was doubtless due to his conviction that this is very precious to the human spirit and that his countrymen had special need to cultivate it. A sounder criticism is that his culture lacked virility, gaining fine- ness at the expense of strength ; that it was too self- conscious, and thereby missed the highest element of culture as of art; and that it kept him in a narrow circle of interests, ignorant of or indifferent to the great currents of human life. But this criticism be- comes unjust if pushed far. Mr. James's culture was indeed rather delicate than robust, but he was no weak- ling, having the restrained strength and fine courage of the thoroughbred; he carried, not the club of Heracles, but the golden bow of Apollo. Nor is it true that he ignored the larger and more common aspects of life. The Turn of the Screw, one of the most powerful of his short stories, gets new effects of horror, with some admixture of the moral, from the popular conception of 304 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. ghosts ; The Other House is a story of intense jealousy and passion, ending in the murder of a child ; and in The Princess Casamassima European anarchists play a prominent part. It must be admitted that his culture was self-conscious, and lacked freedom of stride ; but on the whole he fought a good fight against vulgarity and on behalf of the finest joys of life. William Dean Howells, 1 the most versatile and prolific of living American authors, has published poems, travels, biographies and reminiscences, literary criticism, familiar essays, comedies, and novels. Every- thing he has written is readable and most of it is de- lightful, because of his graceful style, but not much of it has permanent value. In prose fiction his trend was steadily away from romance toward more and more of realism, under the pressure of modern tendencies and especially the influence of Tolstoi*. His earliest novels treat truthfully, but with free play of fancy and humor, such material as a honeymoon in Canada, a love story 1 LIFE. Born March 1, 1837, at Martin's Ferry, Ohio, of Welsh Quaker ancestry. Educated in the common schools. Worked in his father's printing office ; newspaper correspondent and editor in Colum- bus, 1856-1859. Married Elinor G. Mead, 1862. Consul at Venice, 1861-1865. On his return to America was connected for some time with the New York Tribune, Times, and Nation, and with The Atlantic Monthly; editor of The Atlantic Monthly, 1872-1881. Lived abroad, chiefly in England, 1881-1885. Since 1885 connected with Harper s Magazine, residing in New York. A charter member of the American Academy and one of its presidents. Received the degree of Litt.D. from Yale, 1901; from Oxford, 1904. Works. Poems of Two Friends (with John Piatt), 1859. Venetian Life, 1866. Their Wedding Journey, 1872. A Chance Acquaintance, 1873. Poems, 1873. A Foregone Conclusion, 1874. The Parlor Car (a farce), 1876. Out of the Question (a comedy), 1877. The Lady of the Aroostook, 1879. The Undiscovered Country, 1880. A Fearful Responsibility, and Other Stories, 1881. Dr. Brecn's Practice, 1881. PROSE FICTION. 305 in Venice, New England prudishness on shipboard, and spiritualism and mesmerism. A Chance Acquaintance, a study in incompatibility of temperament, anticipates something of his later manner, and A Fearful Responsi- bility reminds one of Henry James by its pictures of Americans in Europe. Dr. Breerts Practice depicts very accurately the survivals of Puritanism in New England village life. But it was A Modern Instance that first struck the deeper and harsher note of realism ; and the novel remains one of his strongest books, chiefly for its truthful portrait of half unconscious in- sincerity and moral shallowness in Bartley Hubbard, the cheap and vulgar yet superficially attractive jour- nalist. The Rise of Silas Lapham is slower and duller, but has more breadth ; it draws with admirable truth and justice a business man, coarse-fibred but funda- mentally sound, proof against the temptation to wrong another even when threatened with ruin ; the Coreys, A Modern Instance, 1882. The Sleeping Car (a farce), 1883. The Register (a farce), 1884. The Elevator (a farce), 1885. The Rise of Silas Lapham, 1885. Tuscan Cities, 1885. Annie Kilburn, 1888. The Mousetrap, and Other Farces, 1889. A Hazard of New Fortunes, 1889. A Boy's Town (autobiographical), 1890. Criticism and Fiction, 1892. The Quality of Mercy, 1892. The World of Chance, 1893. The Unex- pected Guests (a farce), 1893. Evening Dress (a farce), 1893. The Coast of Bohemia, 1893. A Traveler from Altruria, 1894. My Literary Passions, 1895. A Previous Engagement (a comedy), 1897. The Land- lord at Lion's Head, 1897. An Open-Eyed Conspiracy, an Idyl of Saratoga, 1897. Room Forty-five (a farce), 1900. The Smoking Car (a farce), 1900. An Indian Giver (a comedy), 1900. Literary FYiends and Acquaintance, 1900. The Kentons, 1902. Literature and Life, 1902. Questionable Shapes, 1903. Certain Delightful English Towns, 1906. Fennel and Rue, 1908. My Mark Twain, 1910. Parting Friends (a farce), 1911. Familiar Spanish Travels, 1913. The Daughter of the Storage, and Other Things in Prose and Verse, 1916. Self-Sacrifice, a Farce-Tragedy, 1916. The Leatherwood God, 1916. The Years of My Youth (autobiographical) , 1916. Etc., etc. 306 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. an aristocratic Boston family, are equally well por- trayed, but serve chiefly as a contrast to the plebeian figure of Silas. Mr. Howells's realistic art reached its height in these two books. His later novels lack inter- est of plot, which he more and more rejected as un- necessary in realistic studies of life, while they have no compensating improvement in character-portrayal but are usually inferior in this respect also. An exception should be made in the case of A Hazard of New For- tunes, which is exceedingly skilful and varied in its delineation of characters : Marsh, an unassertive, quietly whimsical personality, is especially well done, the por- trait being very real and individual in spite of neutral tones and the lack of outstanding features ; Beaton, a talented but intensely selfish artist, and Fulkerson, an irrepressible advertiser and jovial wit, thinking in exag- geration and slang but good-hearted and genuine, are effective contrasts to Marsh and to each other ; Dryfoos is only a coarser copy of Silas Lapham, but his son, a religious mystic, is a true and pathetic figure. In this novel and in some others Mr. Howells shows deepening interest in social and economic problems, as a sympa- thetic and perplexed observer, not as a reformer ; this gives his later work a broader humanity, although it is still somewhat provincial ; but artistically the greater breadth is not a sufficient offset to the loss of structural unity and climax. His latest book, The Leatherwood God, reverts to a theme somewhat like that of The Un- discovered Country, dealing with debased manifestations of the religious instinct in a small Western community ; the grovelling superstition is not made credible, and the book, in spite of practised skill of hand, is clearly the PROSE FICTION. 307 work of an old man. In brief, while pursuing truth Mr. Howells has not wholly escaped the danger of the com- monplace in subject and point of view ; he nowhere has the distinction of Henry James ; and it may be doubted whether much of his fiction will long survive the test of changing interests and tastes. Francis Marion Crawford (1854-1909) can hardly be claimed as an American author ; for although of American stock, being related to General Marion of the Revolutionary War and to Julia Ward Howe, he was born in Italy and spent most of his life there, and much of his best work, such as Saracines'ca (1887), deals with Italian subjects. America, where he received a part of his education, furnished themes for An American Poli- tician (1885), The Three Fates (1892), Marion Darche (1893), Katherine Lauderdale (1894), and The Ralstons (1894). Mr. Crawford was one of the most prolific and versatile of modern novelists, always finished in style, and clever in plotting and characterization ; but he no- where reached the highest levels of his art. Margaret Deland (1857- ) is among the most powerful of contemporary women novelists. Her first \>oo\, John Ward, Preacher (1888), which aroused wide- spread interest, deals with the clash of conservative and liberal religious beliefs. Several of her subsequent novels, such as Philip and his Wife (1894), The Awak- ening of Helena Richie (1906), The Iron Woman (191 1), and The Rising Tide (1916), handle themes of passion and sex-morals. In quieter vein are her collections of short stories, Old Chester Tales (1899), Dr. Lavcndars People (1903), etc., which may outlast the novels, partly because of the lovable character of Dr. Lavendar. 3 o8 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. Mrs. Deland often gives the impression of powers not quite adequate for her ambition ; but at her best, as in The Lron Woman, she has unusual strength in the con- ception and portrayal of character and in representing crises of passion that are intense without being false or sensational. Robert Herrick (1868- ), a disciple of Mr. Howells as a realistic painter of middle-class American types, is more caustic and pessimistic than his master, and occupies himself more with industrial and socio- logical questions. The Common Lot (1904) describes a young Chicago architect, who sacrifices his artistic and moral ideals by cooperating with a dishonest con- tractor in putting up unsafe buildings, and is restored to his better self by severe discipline. A Life for a Life (1910) exposes the dishonest methods of "big business," the distressing conditions in mines and fac- tories, and the corruption in Congress that shelters these evils, and ends with a melodramatic picture of New York devastated by whirlwind and fire ; the book fails to give an impression of sincerity and truth be- cause of the manifest effort to be powerful on a grand scale. Clark's Field (19 14), a much better work, por- trays the inner growth of a poor girl, who becomes heir to a rich property, spends her income foolishly for a while, but by suffering is brought into sympathy with the poor and devotes her wealth to improving their con- dition. Through many of Mr. Herrick's stories runs a vein of satire on the failings of women ; the sat- ire is especially bitter in One Woman s Life (19 13), which sets forth with cool contempt the ruin caused by a socially ambitious woman of the parasitic type. PROSE FICTION. . 309 Mr. Herrick's strength lies in his neat incisiveness, and he is rather a social satirist than a creator of characters. The realistic tendency is carried farther by Theodore Dreiser (1871- ), who may be called the American Zola for his coarse frankness and his plodding persist- ency in heaping up innumerable details into an impres- sive though shapeless mass. In his first novel, Sister Carrie (1900), the amours of commonplace business men in Chicago and New York are described with faithful minuteness, and the picture of the gradual deterioration of one of them, Hurstwood, is done in masterly monotone ; but Carrie's total lack of common honor in her relations with her two lovers at the very outset of her career, and her sudden success as an actress, are very improbable. The Genius (19 15) is a greater and less dreary book, the stage being larger and the figures on it more varied and attractive ; the Genius himself is a bold conception, though not wholly true to life, an interesting mixture of strength and weak- ness, of bestiality and poetry, but his personality is not so portrayed as to make credible the remarkable things he is said to do in art and business. The Financier (1912) and The Titan (19 14) depict, with the same combination of minuteness in details with largeness of effect in the whole, conditions in the modern business world. Mr. Dreiser is a powerful nature, in whom the coarse and low bulk larger than the fine and high, although the latter qualities are not wholly absent ; in both aspects he is a smaller Walt Whitman. He is frankly in revolt against the mean form of Puritanism which restricted his youth in the Middle West ; his liberation has begun but is not yet complete, nor will 3 io THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. it be until he discovers the distinction between freedom and license, between nature and animalism, — until he realizes the mingled beauty and strength of the nobler Puritanism of John Milton, and, like Milton's Satan in the presence of the angel, sees " Virtue in her shape how lovely." At present his boasted truth is rather in the description of setting and conditions than in the understanding and portrayal of the human spirit. Two main tendencies appear in the writings of Jack London (1876-1917). In Iron Heel (1908), Martin Eden (1909), Burning Daylight (19 10) , and in parts of When God Laughs and Other Stories (191 1), industrial and social evils are described graphically but with no special distinction. In The Son of Wolf (1900), The Call of the Wild (1903), The Sea Wolf (1904), White Fang (1906), and Before Adam (1907), the life of ani- mals and the primitive passions of men are presented in a fresh and powerful way. The Call of the Wild, the best of the animal stories, has for its central figure a great dog who is lured away from his association with man to the wild life of his progenitors ; the tale gives a deep sense of the elemental forces in nature, with a touch of pathos in the personality of the dog. The Sea Wolf by a series of pictures astonishingly vivid and real, paints the personality of Wolf Larsen, the Danish captain of a sealing schooner, a man of tremendous strength, non-moral, a materialist and a student of Spencer, Huxley, and Browning, an interesting though impossible compound of the cave man and the super- man ; the total effect of the book is weakened, how- ever, by the feeble love story in the second half. In these pictures of the primitive, Mr. London expresses PROSE FICTION. 311 a deep undercurrent of modern times, caused by dis- satisfaction with the over-refinement and the injustice of civilization ; but in his glorification of passion and brute strength he heads in the wrong direction, lacking the intellectuality and spirituality heeded for the true solution of modern problems. William Sydney Porter '(" O. Henry") (1862- 19 10) won a wide hearing by his short stories, which range in subject from tenement houses in New York to cowboys in the Southwest and the life of adventurers in Central America ; some express keen sympathy with the victims of vicious industrial conditions and with the unfortunate generally. All his stories have smartness of manner, and many, too many, make use of the device of a sudden twist in situation at the end ; his talent is little above the level of journalistic cleverness, and his fame will prove ephemeral. Winston Churchill (187 i- ) is one of the most popular of living American novelists. The Celebrity (1898) attracted little notice ; but Richard Carvel (1899) sprang at once into great favor, and all its successors have had many readers. Mr. Churchill is, however, a clever follower of other men, not an originator and leader. He catered to the already stimulated taste for historical fiction by Richard Carv.el, a novel of the American Revolution, in which a charming love story is skilfully interwoven with graphic pictures of life in Maryland and London, — including a portrait of Paul Jones, — while the style has something of the grace of Hemy Esmond. He continued to work this vein, with less success, in The Crisis (1901), dealing with the Civil War, and The Crossing (1904), which describes 3 I2 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. life in the South and West during the last quarter of the eighteenth century and the opening years of the nineteenth. Both books have scenes of much descrip- tive power ; but they lack unity of tone and action, and the love stories are hackneyed. In The Crisis the por- trait of Lincoln before the war is strong and true, com- bining well his plebeian homeliness of manner and his shrew 7 d large-heartedness ; but the picture of him in the White House gives no adequate sense of his power and spiritual dignity. In The Crossing the march to Vin- cennes is very vivid and stirring ; but the centre of in- terest shifts again and again, the scenes in Louisiana are melodramatic, and the romantic love story is not harmonized with the tone of the earlier parts of the book. Coniston (1906) appealed to the growing sense of danger from corrupt politics in relation to industrial life ; the love plot is hopelessly conventional, and the only good thing in the book is the portrait of the " up- country " boss. The Inside of the Cup (19 12) combines theology with sociological reform, in both aspects fol- lowing the lead of earlier novelists : the rector of a fashionable church in the Southwest suddenly loses his old faith, constructs a new one in a single summer, engaging in slum work the while, and in the teeth of opposition from the rich men of the church starts a campaign of liberal religion applied to the cure of social ills. The didactic purpose hurts the plot and the character-portrayal by leading to long and dull exposi- tions of the new religion and new social ethics, which are in truth not new but stale and crude. A Far Coun- try (19 1 5) attacks the materialism of the age, especially as it appears in the corrupt methods of " big business " PROSE FICTION. 313 and bad government, and presents as the only cure a better type of education, which the leading character formulates after hastily reading a book or two on biology ; in the love story, as in a minor scene of The Inside of the Cup, Mr. Churchill follows the growing ten- dency of English and American fiction toward " strong " scenes of passion, although extremes are prevented by a fortunate accident. The book is stronger than its immediate predecessor, because Mr. Churchill knows more about politics and business than he does about theology ; but it is rather A tract than a novel, and a shallow tract at that. The Dwelling Place of Light (19 1 7), based upon recent labor troubles in a New England city, is a study of industrial and social con- ditions from the side of the working people, native and foreign, the chief emphasis being laid upon the evil effect of poverty on two sisters of old New England stock, who break through moral bounds, one for love of vain pleasure, the other to satisfy her craving for a higher emotional and intellectual life ; the novel ap- proaches the verge of the indecent in one scene, and in general is needlessly coarse in its handling of passion, although the portrait of Ditmar, a forceful and vulgar business man, is the most natural one in the book. It would be foolish to deny that Mr. Churchill has power, especially in isolated scenes ; but he lacks constructive ability, his style in the later works is often clumsy, he is crude or conventional in the conception and portrayal of character, and his insight into modern problems is neither deep nor sure. He has not fulfilled the promise of Richard Carvel The greatest living artist among American writers 314 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. of prose fiction is Edith Wharton (1862- ), a dis- ciple of Henry James. Her first success was achieved by pictures of society life in The Greater Inclination (1899), a collection of short stories, which may be con- sidered as preliminary studies for her masterpiece of social satire, The House of Mirth (1905). In the latter she exposes with pitiless severity the glittering heart- lessness of the fashionable world, showing at the same time an almost poetic appreciation of its aesthetic charm ; Lily Bart, the central figure and the victim, is portrayed with an easy sureness of touch and a subtlety of analysis that remind one of both Thackeray and George Eliot. The same vein of social satire is worked, less successfully on the whole yet with great keenness, in Xingu and Other Stories (19 16). The second and larger field cultivated by Mrs. Wharton is the mental and moral life of men and women in times of crisis or prolonged strain, as in Crucial Instances (1901), The Fruit of the Tree (1907), Etha?i Frome (191 1), and Summer (19 17). The Fruit of the Tree has a back- ground of industrial reform, but the core of the book is the delineation of the spiritual relations between a man and his wife when the former learns that the latter had given his first wife an overdose of morphine to put her out of useless suffering ; his radical intellect justi- fies her act, but his conservative feelings cause repul- sion and alienation ; the spiritual gulf which opens be- tween them, and the gradual but incomplete closing of it, are described with remarkable precision and intel- lectual delicacy, and the novel ends with a magnificent irony of situation in the man's misconception of the character of the frivolous first wife. Ethan Frome is a PROSE FICTION. 315 picture of prolonged mental torture, the more terrible for its background of meagre New England country life : Ethan, married to a petulant invalid older than himself, loves his wife's cousin ; in despair the lovers seek death by dashing into a tree while coasting down a steep hill ; but he is unhurt, while she is crippled for life ; the petulant invalid, rising above her former jealousy, devotes long years to caring for her rival, and Ethan lives with them both in a slow hell of remorse and defeated love. Summer is remarkable chiefly for two things : the merciless picture of the beastly, sodden lives of degenerate outcasts in the wilds of the " Moun- tain " near a sleepy New England village, a picture horrible with the tragedy of the relapse of the human into the beast; and the invincible nobility of Lawyer Royall, drunken and dissolute, who rises from degrada- tion by the strength of his love for a woman who has scorned him but who accepts him at last in her despair at betrayal by her summer lover. Mrs. Wharton's range is narrow compared with that of the greatest masters of literature ; she lacks humor and a sense for the broad, genial aspects of human nature ; and a cer- tain narrowness and hardness in her view of life are the price she has to pay for her gift of caustic satire. But in her own field she has no superior. Her sense for black tragedy creeping upon a human being by inevitable steps is Greek in its terrible intensity. Greek, too, is her power of construction, by which she strips away everything superfluous and focusses every detail upon the central effect. Ethan Frome, in its pitiless rigor of tragic concentration, may challenge comparison with a play by Sophocles. 3 i6 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. In summary it may be said that American prose fic- tion of the last half century is characterized as a whole by slightness, by lack of breadth and depth and power; that much of it is marked by feminine sensitiveness to detail and by fineness of feeling, often accompanied by emotionalism and absence of repose; that a high de- gree of constructive unity is generally lacking in the novels, although common in short stories ; and that the most powerful feature of the newer fiction is not its portrayal of individual men 1 and women, but its presen- tation of moral problems and its pictures of the great industrial forces of the modern world. The supreme American novelist is yet to arise. Miscellaneous Prose, including Essays, Sketches, Trav- els, Biographies, and Histories, may be considered more briefly. Charles Dudley Warner (1829-1900), although he wrote a few novels and collaborated with Mark Twain in The Gilded Age (1873), is remembered chiefly for his essays, travels, and descriptive sketches, in which he has much of the leisurely, genial charm of Irving ; his earlier works, My Summer in a Garden (1870), Backlog Studies (1872), My Winter on the Nile (1876), and Being a Boy (1877), are his best, full of quiet humor, and show- ing easy familiarity with men and things. Somewhat of the same school is Thomas W. Higginson (1823- 191 1), who wrote poems, fiction, essays, history, and biography, but whose most entertaining and valuable book is Cheerful Yesterdays (1898), an autobiography, which describes vividly, with pleasant touches of humor, many of the most famous men and most stirring move- ments in New England during half a century. Yester- MISCELLANEOUS PROSE. 317 days with Authors (1872), by James T. Fields (1817- 188 1 ), founder of The Atlantic Monthly, has a like inter- est and charm. Essays in Literary Criticism have been numerous. Edmund C. Stedman (1 833-1908) in Victorian Poets (1875), Poets of America (1885), and The Nature and Elements of Poetry (1892) shows wide knowledge of literature, delicate taste, and a judicial temper. Sidney Lanier (1842-188 i) made valuable contributions to criticism in The Science of English Verse (1880), The English Novel (1883), Music and Poetry (1898), and Shakspere and his Forerunners (1902), 1 in which crea- tive insight and analytic method are combined in un- usual degree. The literary criticism of William Dean Howells (1837- ) in Criticism and Fiction (1895) and other essays, although pleasant and vivacious, is inferior to his novels and descriptive sketches. Henry James, Jr. (1843-19 16), is far keener and of wider range. His Hawthorne (1879), Partial Portraits (1888), and Essays in London and Elsewhere (1893) contain subtle and penetrating criticism of many and diverse writers, in a style precise and intellectual yet beautiful and clear ; in his later essays the substance is beaten out to a thinness not warranted by its intrinsic worth, and the style is needlessly involved and difficult. Brander Matthews (1852- ) has written interesting and illuminating books on the drama and the novel, of which may be named French Dramatists of the Nine- teenth Century (1881, 189 1), The Historical Novel (1901), and Shakespeare as a Playwright (19 13). The 1 Most of these works were delivered as lectures and published post- humously. 318 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. foremost dramatic critic in America for many years was William Winter (1836-19 17), whose Henry Ir- ving (1885), Shadows of the Stage (189 2-1 893), and , The Life and Art of Edwin Booth (1894) are more valuable though less popular than his sentimental Shakespeare' s England (1888), Gray Days and Gold (1892), etc. George E. Woodberry (1855- ), in his life of Poe (1885), Studies in Letters and Life (1890), Nathaniel Hawthorne (1902), and other volumes, shows a poet's intense appreciation of beauty and a critic's analytic sense, although he lacks the sweep and power of the great man of letters. One of the most trenchant and original of the more recent critics is William C. Brownell (185 1- ), who in French Traits (1889), Victorian Prose Masters (1901), and American Prose Masters (1909) presents fresh points of view in a style vigorous though harsh. Less balanced, but keen and racy, are Emerson and Other Essays (1898), Learning and Other Essays (191 1), and Greek Genius and Other Essays (1915), by John Jay Chapman (1862- ). Bliss Perry (i860- ) has written pleasantly and with finish, maintaining judicial poise yet escaping conventionality, in A Study of Prose Fiction (1902), Walt Whitman, his Life and Work (1906), and Park- Street Papeis (1909). The most comprehensive and serious American literary critic since Lowell is Paul Elmer More (1864- ), whose Shelburne Essays, in nine series (1904-1915), treat a vast range of subjects with accurate yet unpretentious learning and in a sys- tematic way ; Mr. More's sober intent to see the object "as in itself it really is," and his dignified freedom from meretricious tricks of manner, command respect, MISCELLANEOUS PROSE. 319 but he lacks at least two qualities essential to the great critic — brilliancy and power. In connection with these literary essays intended for the general reader may be mentioned the following works addressed primarily to students and scholars but having some measure of popular interest : Studies in Shakespeare (1885), by Richard Grant White (1821-1885); A History of American Literature, 1607- 1765 (1878), and The Literary History of the American Revolution, 1763-1783 (1897), by Moses Coit Tyler (183 5-1 900) ; American Literature, 1607-188 5 (1887, 1889), by Charles F. Richardson (1851-1913); A Literary History of America (1900), by Barrett Wen- dell (1855— ) ; The Cambridge History of Ameri- can Literature (Volume I., 1917), by various writers; Studies in Chaucer (1892) and Shakespeare as a Dra- matic Artist (1901), by Thomas R. Lounsbury (1838- 1915) ; The Elizabethan Drama (1908), by Felix E. Schelling (1858- ) ; The Beginnings of Poetry (1901) and Democracy and Poetry (191 1), by Francis B. Gummere (1855- ) ; and A History of Literary Criticism in the Renaissance (1899) and Creative Criti- cism (1917), by Joel E. Spingarn (1875- ). In the field of the Familiar Essay, Agnes Repplier (1855- ) has produced many volumes full of sparkle and piquant criticism, of which Books and Men (1888), Essays in Ldleness (1893), Compromises (1904), and Americans and Others (1 912) are representative. Less witty but more humorous in a genial way, and holding much human wisdom in solution, are The Gentle Reader (1903), The Pardoner's Wallet (1905), Liumanly Speak- ing (1912), and other collections of essays by Samuel 320 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. M. Crothers (1857- )• Robust and rollicking hu- mor, embodying a deal of shrewd knowledge of human nature, is to be found in Mr, Dooley in Peace and in War (1898), by Peter F. Dunne (1867- ); Mr. Dunne's later volumes are less vigorous and fresh. The wide range of modern American Prose Sketches; in subject-matter and style, is well illustrated in two recent works, which for their very contrasts may be mentioned together. America at Work (19 15), by Jo- seph Husband (1885- ), is one of the most modern of modern things, flashing typical scenes in the indus- trial world of to-day upon the mind's retina with cinema-like vividness and intensity, and revealing the picturesqueness and poetry in an age of mechanical marvels. Roads from Rome (19 13), by Anne C. E. Allinson (187 1- ), the product of a happy union of scholarship and imagination, makes the classic past live again, and helps the reader to realize how essentially human and in that sense modern were the days of Catullus, Horace, and Ovid. The new interest in Nature has found expression in many so-called Nature Studies. John Burroughs (1837- ), less elemental than Thoreau but more human, writes with intimate knowledge and poetic sympathy of birds and flowers and all the lore of the fields, in a clear and simple style ; he has no raptures, and the poetic freshness of his earlier books has given way more and more to a colder scientific temper, but his pages are always charming and restful. Wake- Robin (187 1 ), Winter Sunshine (1875), and Birds and Poets (1877) are representative of his earlier work; Ways of Nature (1905) and Leaf and Tendril (1908^, MISCELLANEOUS PROSE. 321 of his later. John Muir (1838-1914), a native of Scotland but a resident in America since boyhood, a more passionate and mystical spirit than Burroughs, described with deep feeling and poetic power the large and wild aspects of nature in the Far West, where he spent most of his life ; among his most characteristic books are The Mountains of California (1894), Our National Parks (1901), and My First Summer in the Sierra (191 1). Of the lesser writers of this school, Harriet Mann Miller (" Olive Thorn Miller'') (1831- ), Bradford Torrey (1843-1912), and Dallas Lore Sharp (1870- ) deserve mention for their success in describing natural scenes and the habits of birds and animals in vivacious and interest- ing style without sacrificing truth to fancy. The " out- door essays " of Henry van Dyke (1852- ), such as those in Little Rivers (1895) and Fisherman's Luck (1899), fresh and sincere pictures of days in the open, may find readers when his sentimental religious and moral stories have been forgotten. The Scientific and Philosophical Essay is ably repre- sented by the miscellaneous writings of John Fiske (1842-1901), such as The Unseen World (1876), Dar- winism and Other Essays (1879), an( ^ The Idea of God (1885), in which evolutionary thought is presented in a clear and nervous style ; by the brilliant idealistic essays of Josiah Royce (1855-19 17), among which are The Religious Aspect of Philosophy (1885) and The World and the Individual (1 900-1 901) ; and by the widely read works of William James (1842-1910), notably The Will to Believe and Other Essays in Popular Philosophy (1897), The Varieties of Religious Experience (1902), and Prag- 322 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. matism (1907), which discuss topics of universal inter- est with a rare union of scientific depth and literary charm. Political Science, Biography, and History have been written with conspicuous success by many American scholars and statesmen, of whom there is here room for reference to only five. Ulysses S. Grant (1822- 1885) in his Memoirs (1885-1886) produced a book admirable for the characteristic plainness and sim- plicity of its style and deeply interesting as the story of the Civil War by one of the chief actors in it. The Influence of Sea Power upon History (1890), by Alfred T. Mahan (1840-1918), is famous in the New and the Old World for its lucid presentation of a great subject now made doubly significant by the Great War. Theo- dore Roosevelt (1858- ) has written The History of the Navai War of 18 12 (1882), lives of Thomas H. Benton (1886) and Gouverneur Morris (1887), The Winning of the West (1 889-1 896), and The Wilderness Hunter (1893), books full of vigor though without dis- tinction of style ; in A?nerican Ideals (1897) and many later essays and addresses he has preached the need of the manly virtues in private and public life. John Fiske's historical works — The Discovery of America (1892), Old Virginia and her Neighbors (1897), The Beginnings of 'New England '(1899), The American Revo- lution (189 1 ), etc. — combine in high degree modern scientific research with freshness and vigor of style. Woodrow Wilson (1856- ) in A History of the American People (1902) has told the story of three cen- turies of Anglo-Saxon civilization in the New World with singular unity of view and charm of manner; his THE POETS. 323 treatise, The State (1889), and his collections of essays, An Old Master and Other Political Essays (1893) and Mere Literature and Other Essays (1896), remind one of Burke by their imaginative grasp on fundamental principles of government and by their lucidity and flexi- bility of style ; his state papers and addresses as Presi- dent during the Great War have gained him world-wide fame by their lofty and wise idealism and their simple nobility of expression. American Poetry since the Civil War has been char- acterized rather by finish of manner than by imagina- tive power ; in recent years, however, there have been stirrings of new impulses which may be the heralds of greater things. Among Northern poets Lucy Larcom (1826-1893) and Celia L. Thaxter (1 836-1894) wrote simply, with quiet beauty, of the sea and the hills, of the joys and sorrows of children and common folk, continuing the tradition of Longfellow and Whittier. Thomas Baile Aldrich (1836-1907), whose early verse was slight or merely sensuous, in his later poems, such as Windham Towers (1889), The Sisters' Tragedy with Other Poems (189 1), Judith and Ho lof ernes (1896), and a few sonnets, dealt with deeper and more realistic themes, although his style never lost its careful polish ; his poetry at its best, however, is essentially imitative, reflecting the manner of Keats, Tennyson, and Arnold. The poems of Edmund C. Stedman (1833-1908) have finish and restrained force ; as a whole they lack passion and can never be popular, although a few lyrics occasioned by the Civil War gained a wide hearing for a time, and Pan in Wall Street is permanently charming and 324 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. suggestive. Edward R. Sill (1841-1887), long resi- dent in the West but a native of the East, whose early death prevented the full development of his poetic gifts, had sweet flow of verse, originality in phrase and imagery, freshness in handling classic myths, and con- siderable intellectual and satiric power in treating prob- lems of modern thought. A rare vein was that of Emily Dickinson (1 830-1 886), whose condensed little poems on nature and human life startle and stab by their erratic originality of thought and phrase. Emma Lazarus (1849-1887), a rich and passionate nature, in her earlier poems wrote on nature, moods, and classic and mediaeval legends with an intellectual beauty and purity of style reminiscent of Arnold ; in her later poems, preeminently in the powerful Dance to Death , she gave expression to deep racial sympathy aroused by recent persecutions of the Jews in Europe. Richard W. Gilder (1844-1909) and Henry C. Bunner (1855- 1896) may be mentioned for their skill in the lighter kinds of verse. Lloyd Mifflin (1846- ) has written chiefly in the difficult form of the Petrarchan sonnet, touching various subjects with dignity but without marked originality. Clinton D. Scollard (i860- ), who has been publishing verse since 1884, has a dis- tinctive place among the minor poets by reason of the easy finish of his style ; his best volume, Lyrics from a Library (19 13), treats literary and bibliographical topics with a delightfully human touch. Among Southern poets Sidney Lanier 1 is second 1 LIFE. Born Feb. 3, 1842, at Macon, Ga., of Huguenot and Scotch stock. Graduated at Oglethorpe College, Ga., i860, with first honors. Tutor in the college until outbreak of Civil War. Served in the Con- THE POETS. 325 only to Poe. A man of exquisite sensibility and a skilled musician, he produced dreamy, mist-like effects that were new in English verse ; and his feeling for nature, especially for Southern woods and marshes, is thoroughly modern in its union of exact observation with imaginative subtlety. Hymns of the Marshes is undoubtedly his greatest poetry, containing rich yet delicate harmonies, beauty and brilliancy in description of nature, and a broad religious sense. But his range was wider than is sometimes realized. In The Revenge of Hamish, a terrible picture of the revenge of a Scotch henchman for the cruelty of his lord, and in The Jacquerie^ poems revealing the animal-like fury of hate in the souls of French peasants before the Revolution, he expressed the modern humanitarian and democratic feeling ; The Psalm of the West is an eloquent glorifi- cation of the New World and its freedom ; The Dying Words of Stonewall Jackson and other poems give pathetically the Southern view of the " Lost Cause"; in How Love Looked for Hell he embodied with brilliant suggestiveness the belief that heaven and hell are rather states of mind than places ; in various poems he wrote of music as only a poet musician could ; and in federate Army, 1861-1865. Married Mary Day, 1867. Began to have hemorrhages from the lungs in 1868, and henceforth had to struggle with tuberculosis. Studied and practised law in Macon, Ga., 1868- 1872. Settled in Baltimore, in 1873, as first flute in an orchestra. Ap- pointed lecturer on English literature in Johns Hopkins University, 1879. Died Sept. 7, 1881, in Lynn, N. C, whither he had gone for his health. Works. Tiger Lilies, a Novel, 1867. Poems, 1876, 1877. The Science of English Verse, 1880. The English Novel and the Principle of its Development, 1883. Music and Poetry, 1898. Shakspcrc and his Forerunners, 1902. 326 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. Dialect Poems he broke ground in a new field, though not with entire success, by portraying in verse the char- acters of negroes and " poor whites." Lanier's versifi- cation is sometimes excessively intricate, and his thought occasionally falls away into inarticulate dreamery ; but these faults are only the defects of his virtues. Had he lived longer, and developed somewhat more virility, he might have become one of the greatest American poets ; as it is he stands only a little lower, in a secure place of his own. Except for Lanier the New South has done less dis- tinguished work in poetry than in prose, and her poets are relatively few. John B. Tabb (" Father Tabb ") ( 1 845-1 909) wrote exquisite little poems, many of them only four or eight lines long, which recall Herrick and Landor by their terse delicacy of thought and form. Irwin Russell (1853-1879) during his short and feverish life wrote a few poems in the negro dialect, which depict truthfully, without straining for effect, the " old-time negro," still dear to the Southern white ; " I do not know," says Joel Chandler Harris, " where could be found to-day a happier or a more perfect representa- tion of negro character." The negro race speaks di- rectly in the poems of Paul L. Dunbar (1872-1906), who, although born and bred in Ohio, may be spoken of in connection with Southern writers as one herald of a higher intellectual and artistic life for his people. The most ambitious of recent Southern poets is Madison Cawein (1865-1914), who through a quarter-century wrote and published steadily, taking his subjects from nature, mythology, and human life past and present; most of his poems are lyrical and descriptive, although THE POETS. 327 he also attempted the dramatic form. He tires by his facile profuseness, and often misses unity of effect through excess of decorative detail ; but he has a rich sense of beauty, especially the beauty of nature, while in poems on certain aspects of Southern life, such as Lynchers and The Feud, his style has unusual compres- sion and force. In the Middle West the life of " the plain people " has been the chief inspiration to song. John J. Piatt (1835- ) wr ote simply and with manly directness of the farmer's toil, patriotism, and personal joys and sor- rows. John Hay (1838-1905) sketched some of the rougher types of Western men, with virile virtues underneath their coarseness, in Pike County Ballads (187 1), which have more vitality than the poems in which he expressed his own fine culture. In more recent years James Whitcomb Riley (185 2-1 9 16) cap- tivated the hearts of many readers by poems, chiefly in the Hoosier dialect, brimful of human kindliness, hu- mor, and pathos. Eugene Field (1850-1895), a more masculine type, wrote some gay and pathetic poems for or about children, besides rollicking verses of quite another sort. In the Far West, Francis Bret Harte (1839-1902) pictured life in the mining camps in verses that have the same merits and faults as his stories. A very volu- minous poet was Cincinnatus H. Miller (" Joaquin Miller") (1841-1913), the " Oregon Byron," whose poems on nature and human life on the Pacific slope and in Central America have fire, color, and dash, but are deficient in concentration and unity ; his work as a whole is, nevertheless, the best expression in verse of 328 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. the romance and passion of the regions he describes. Among more recent poets Ina D. Coolbrith, in Songs from the Golden Gate (1895) and other poems, writes musically of the beauty of life in California. The poets considered thus far, most of whom did their best work before 1900, followed in the main the traditions of English and American poetry of the sec- ond half of the nineteenth century. In the last gen- eration have arisen poets who voice a new spirit — a democracy and humanitarianism more radical than the old, a questioning of all accepted beliefs, artistic, moral, and sociological, as well as religious, and a frank indi- vidualism that demands the joy of life, even at times with lawlessness and license. The last-named aspect of this modern spirit found naive and boisterous utterance before the close of the century in the Songs from Vagabondia (1894) by Bliss Carman (1861- ) and Richard Hovey (1864-1900), who chanted lustily, albeit rather crudely and self-con- sciously, of the "joys of the road," the wild pleasures of buccaneer and outlaw, and the gladness of comrade- ship " when strong men drink together." It was all rather boyish, and not half so mad and bad as they would have liked proper people (whom of course they called " Pharisees ") to believe ; but they did express, in a rousing if amateur way, a growing instinct of revolt from conventional restraints and a new zest for the natural life. Mr. Hovey, in his dramatic poems on subjects from the Arthurian legend, following Swin- burne instead of Tennyson, strove to bring out the romantic strength of passion in the old stories, not their moral lessons ; in execution the poems are sig- THE POETS. 329 nificant chiefly for their youthful promise of a maturity never attained. The democratic humanitarian spirit, with underlying hints of a coming social revolution, is found in the verses of Edwin Markham (1852- ), more rhetorician than poet, whose Man with the Hoe (1899), suggested by Millet's painting, is much his best work. A far higher and larger spirit was William Vaughn Moody (1869-1910), the greatest American poet since Lanier, who felt to the full all the tendencies outlined above, and expressed them in poems of rare beauty and imaginative power. In Gloucester Moors a?id Other Poems (1901), the Road- Hymn for the Start thanks God for " the boon of the endless quest " ; The Brute draws a terrible picture of the crushing, brutalizing effect of industrial materialism, but utters the belief that in the end the might of mechanical civilization will be used to uplift the spirit of man ; An Ode in Time of Hesita- tion and On a Soldier Fallen in the Philippines, whatever one thinks of their political wisdom, are noble in style and quivering with passion for the rights of " inferior " peoples. The Masque of Judgment (1900), which rep- resents God as dying, self-slain, through His merciless severity against evil, itself an " effluence of the life that moves in Him," is a bold attack on the dualism in popular theology ; it is also an expression of sympathy with the sufferings of humanity, put into the lips of the angel Raphael, who lives so long with sinning, sorrow- ing, aspiring man that he loses his interest in the calm courts of heaven. The masque lacks firmness of struc- ture ; but everywhere are individual passages of won- derful beauty, and for imaginative horror there are few 330 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. things in literature comparable to the description of the Monster Worm rearing his sinuous bulk out of the abyss and laying his hideous folds " upward the visioned hills " to attack the throne of God Himself. The Fire- B ringer (1904), a dramatic poem on the heroic defiance of Zeus by Prometheus, who brings fire to wretched man, is more firmly knit, but nowhere reaches the im- aginative height of The Masque of Judgment The Great Divide (1906), a prose drama of much power on the stage, by its contrast to the earlier work showed surprising versatility ; its theme, however, the conflict between the rigid morality of Puritanic New England and the freer, more human standards of the West, expressed again the bold but not crude questioning spirit of the author. The Faith Healer (1909), another prose play, although less successful either for acting or reading, has subtlety and nobility in its portrait of a mind in revolt against social law and custom. Mr. Moody united in remarkable degree the older culture and the modern spirit, and American literature suffered a heavy loss by the premature death of so sensitive, imaginative, and lofty a nature. The poetry of Edwin A. Robinson (1869- ) is partly of the earlier and partly of the later school. Much of his subject-matter, and the careful finish of all his poems, link his work with the nineteenth-century poetry ; but by his sympathy with all sorts and condi- tions of men, including criminals and failures, he aligns himself with the growing tendency to " gently scan your brother man, still gentler sister woman." In The Chil- dren of the Night (1896) this broad sympathy appears in Reuben Bright, Supremacy, and The Night Before, THE POETS. 331 which reveal the better side of " churls," " sluggards," and murderers. The title-poem in Captain Craig (1902) is a subtle interpretation, half satirical, half pathetic, of the soul of an old ''pensioner" who is part genius and part fraud ; Isaac and Archibald is a charmingly delicate description of the friendly relations of two old men ; The Book of Amiandale is a picture of the inner- most mind of a man who finds to his dismay that he is secretly glad of his wife's death because of " that other face "the memory of which "came between him and the coffin-lid." The refined intellectuality, with an undercurrent of passion, in Mr. Robinson's best poetry gives it quiet distinction and penetrating force. Josephine Preston Peabody Marks (1874- ) has unusual talent for melody and phrase ; and her successive volumes — The Wayfarers (1898), The Sing- ing Leaves (1903), The Singing Man (191 1), Harvest Moon (1916) — show development from diffuse sweet- ness to condensed power and a richer music. Her gift is less for expressing thought than for conveying moods, especially sympathy for the oppressed and emotional faith in love and joy as the richest elements in life. Interest in ordinary men and women and subtle realism in depicting their inner lives appear in the poems of Robert Frost (1875- ). A native of California, during many years, of study and teaching in New England he has entered deeply into the minds of New England country folk, and in North of Boston (19 14) he has interpreted their shy, proud, stubborn, sensitive, heroic natures more truly and completely than was ever done before in verse. The blank pentam- eters in which most of the sketches are composed, 332 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. quiet, flexible, intentionally low in musical tone and near the borders of prose, form an admirable medium for expressing the thoughts and feelings of these self- repressed natures. As a portrayer of New England country people he is a worthy successor to Lowell and Whittier ; having less wit and humor than the former, and less idyllic charm than the latter, he yet excels them both in range of characters and in subtlety and inwardness of interpretation. One of the most masculine of modern poets is Edgar Lee Masters (1868- ), who in Spoon River Anthol- ogy (1914-1915) gave American literature a new thing. The work consists of what purport to be epitaphs, com- posed in a free kind of blank verse, and describing the lives and characters of persons who have died in a small Illinois community. The epitaphs are brutally realistic and saturated with pessimism. Spoon River deserves to be renamed " Abhorred Styx, the flood of deadly hate," or " Sad Acheron of sorrow, black and deep," for the village was crammed with more crime, lust, hypocrisy, meanness, and misery than could be found in equal space in the awful funnel of Dante's Inferno. But the overdose of pessimistic poison is made harmless by its excess ; the reader soon reflects that the actual world, bad as it is, is no such sink of iniquity as Spoon River, and that if Illinois were truly represented by this imaginary spot, it might have pro- duced a Satan but never an Abraham Lincoln. The Anthology is relieved in places by more cheerful and noble portraits ; that of Anne Rutledge, Lincoln's first love, is the supreme thing in the book, full of haunting music and powerful imagination, by which this young THE POETS. 333 girl is linked with the life of a nation through the influ- ence of her memory on the soul of Lincoln. After due allowance has been made for exaggeration, the fact remains that Mr. Masters is one of the most powerful and true satirists of modern times, pitilessly laying bare the ugly ulcers of the human soul and lashing the lecher, the sneak, and the brute with whips of steel. His humor, also, of a sort that mixes well with the satire, is genuine and strong. Songs and Satires (191 6) is much poorer than the Anthology, and in parts pushes liberty into license, the besetting sin of indi- vidualism ancient or modern. His third book, The Great Valley (19 16), though less powerful and original than the first, has greater range of subject and a saner tone ; the strongest groups of poems are those on Chi- cago and Lincoln, in which local color and pride are combined with national and human significance, and those portraying passion intimately and frankly but without vulgarity. Toward the Gulf ( 1 9 1 8) shows much the same merits and defects. If Mr. Masters has capacity for further growth, especially if he gains in ability to see life " whole " as well as " steadily," he may become one of the greatest American poets, as he is already one of the most original and trenchant. Of less originality and power, but significant for their relation to the so-called New Poetry movement, are several recent poets who make much of freedom and unconventionality especially in the form of their verse and in the expression of thought and passion. Nicho- las Vachel Lindsay (1879- ) snares the modern sympathy for the outcast, as is shown by the title-poem and by The Drunkards in the Street in the volume 334 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. entitled General William Booth Enters into Heaven and Other Foe ms (19 13); and in The Congo and Other Poems (19 14) the poem Abraham Lincoln Walks at Midnight well describes the sorrow of the Great Demo- crat over the slaughter of the common people in a war caused by the ambition of kings. But he stands chiefly for an attempt to bring back the singing quality into poetry and make music the " handmaid of verse " as it was " in all Greek lyrics " ; in some of his poems, such as The Congo and / Heard Immanuel Singing, he has succeeded in composing lines that almost compel one to sing or chant them. The same motive appears in his last volume, The Chinese Nightingale and Other Poems (1917). Conrad Aiken (1889- ), who denies that he imitates Masefield but admits the influence of the English poet upon him, in Earth Tritimphant and Other Tales in Verse (19 14) and Turns and Movies and Other Tales in Verse (19 16), writes fluently — too flu- ently — in the octosyllabic couplet and the rhyme royal, old narrative measures that Masefield revived and put to new use ; and like him, too, the American poet pic- tures with voluptuous brightness the riot of fleshly passion, redeeming it from utter grossness by the poetry of beauty and romantic illusion. Moral bal- ance is further preserved in some degree by insistence upon the satiety and disillusionment that dog the devotee of pleasure; but the pace for a time is hot and furious, and the poet's zest for feverish hedonism and detailed descriptions of sensual joy outlasts the reader's. The influence of Walt Whitman is obvious in Vision of War (19 15), by Lincoln Colcord (1883- ), not only in the free form of the verse (which imitates THE POETS. 335 Whitman at his worst, missing the fine rhythms of his inspired passages), but also in the realistic descriptions of physical horrors, and most of all in the spiritual philosophy which lays the ultimate responsibility for war on the greed and injustice of nations in times of so-called peace ; the execution of the book falls far short of its noble purpose and spirit. Whitman's influence and that of recent French poets are apparent in the work of a group of poets, American and English, who call themselves Imagists. Their ar- tistic creed, as set forth in the prefaces to collections of their poems in 19 15 and 19 16, includes the presen- tation of images and moods by the use of " exact words " and by rendering " particulars exactly " instead of "vague generalities"; " absolute freedom in the choice of subject," and passionate belief " in the artistic value of modern life " ; and the creation of " new rhythms as the expression of new moods." " These principles," the new poets truly say, " are not new; they have fallen into desuetude. They are the essen- tials of all great poetry." How long and how far these principles have been neglected by poets before the Imagists the latter do not say, and on this point there would be wide difference of opinion. The verse-form used by the Imagists in most of their poems, the vers libre, or " f ree verse," is, however, something new in English and American verse except in the poems of Walt Whitman, and perhaps in those of "Ossian." The prefaces define it as " writing whose cadence is more marked, more definite, and closer knit than that of prose, but which is not so violently nor so obviously accented as the so-called ' regular verse.' " " The unit 336 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. in vers fibre" it is further explained, " is not the foot, the number of the syllables, the quantity, or the line. The unit is the strophe, which may be the whole poem, or may be only a part." Amy Lowell, a leading Ima- gist, in the preface to Sword Blades and Poppy Seed, speaking of her own poems, says : " The stress, and exceedingly marked curve, of any regular metre is easily perceived. These poems, built upon cadence, are more subtle, but the laws they follow are not less fixed. Merely chopping prose lines into lengths does not produce cadence, it is constructed upon mathemat- ical and absolute laws of balance and time." Without going fully into a discussion of this compli- cated subject, which would require too much space, it may be said that many readers, including some long accustomed to the subtler harmonies of verse, cannot detect any rhythm whatsoever in most of the poems in vers libre, which do seem to them to be produced by "merely chopping prose lines into lengths"; and in these cases they are constrained to believe that the new poets deceive themselves, and have unwittingly sacrificed rhythm, a musical and passionate element, to the intellectual element of precision and vividness in the use of words, either because they are not able, like the great artists, to combine both elements, or because they really care more for " clear and hard " images than for melody. In such poems the division into lines is justifiable, if at all, only as a means of empha- sis, like newspaper headlines, and produces an effect through the eye, not through the ear. In some of the new poems, however, may be felt a delicate, freely sway- ing rhythm of much beauty and sometimes of peculiar THE POETS. 337 fitness. The whole Imagist movement is interesting as an attempt to widen the forms of poetry, and as such deserves an open-minded reception by all lovers of art, — who must not, on the other hand, be required to accept the authors' word about the effects produced. The New Poetry is in fact more interesting at pres- ent for its technique than for its substance, for although the Imagists proclaim that they " have been caught in the throes of a new birth," they have as yet been delivered of nothing great. Ezra Pound (1885- ) has some satirical gift, which finds utterance in caustic little poems on conventions and affectations ; and oc- casionally, as in Dance Figure and A Virginal, he shows beauty of feeling and delicate grace of manner; but many poems proclaim too loudly that they are startling and will " rejuvenate things," while others are porno- graphic and low. John Gould Fletcher (1886- ) lives in a world of artistic emotions not especially re- markable in themselves, and so remote from the com- mon interests of men that they make small appeal even to cultivated readers. His manner, too, lacks distinc- tion and brilliancy, The Ghosts of an Old House, in the volume entitled Goblins and Pagodas (19 16), being particularly commonplace in conception and expres- sion ; in Symphonies (in the same volume), depicting the life of an artist, and in Arizona (in Some Imagist Poets, IQ16), he gets some novel effects in color and rhythm, but fails of complete success. A Dome of Many- Coloured Glass (19 12), by Amy Lowell (1874- ), contains several poems of delicate fancy, showing the influence of Keats and Tennyson. Sword Blades and Poppy Seed (19 14) has more originality of 338 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. thought and manner : A Lady is very successful in giving the effect of faded coloring and a faded life ; The Great Adventure of Max Breuck and In a Castle are series of very vivid pictures ; The Precinct, Roch- ester suggests, with subtlety and flexibility of style and tone, ecclesiastical conservatism slumbering on the brink of revolution. Patterns (in Some Imagist Poets, 19 16) is perhaps her best poem, expressing human passion under the restraints of convention, with much vividness and some melody — due to approximately regular rhythm and a partial use of rhyme. But in many of her poems Miss Lowell seems to be doing finger-exercises rather than giving imaginative expression to the large aspects of human life. The Great War has as yet produced little American poetry of distinction except that of Alan Seeger (1888-1916). Mr. Seeger's early poems, based in part upon residence in Mexico and in Paris, show a Keats- like hunger for pleasurable sensations, with something of the English poet's gift of expression. From this dream of sensuous beauty the young poet was roughly awakened by the outbreak of war, and at once threw himself into the Great Adventure, enlisting in the French Army ; he died on the field of battle in July, 19 1 6. His poems inspired by the war reach far higher levels of feeling and imagination than his earlier verses, although in general they are less finished in manner. The best is the already familiar one, / Have a Rendez- vous with Death, but the Ode in Me?nory of the A?neri- can Volunteers Fallen for France has noble passages. Alan Seeger's war poems are a precious sheaf, the poetic first-fruits of a world conflict which may later THE DRAMA. 339 transmute much of its evil into good by exaltation of the spirit of poetry in men. American Drama since the Civil War presents inter- esting parallels with the prose fiction and the poetry of the same period. Like the fiction it has tended as a whole to be increasingly realistic and American, influ- enced in manner by contemporary European plays but taking its subjects chiefly from American history and social life. Like the recent poetry, it has of late years been showing new impulses, feeling its way toward greater originality and a higher beauty, but is a prom- ising experiment rather than an assured success. The pioneer in modern American drama was Bron- son Howard (1842-1908). His Saratoga (1870), 1 which ran a hundred and one nights in New York, is a comedy on American manners ; Young Mrs. Winthrop (1882) deals with the estrangement of an American husband and wife and their reconciliation ; Shenandoah (1888) is a play of the Civil War, picturing the suffer- ings of friends and lovers who took opposite sides in the struggle. In these and many other plays Mr. How- ard, although following foreign models in his technique, stood sturdily in the face of strong opposition for a drama American in theme and spirit. James A. Herne (1839-1901), actor and playwright, followed Howard's lead: in Shore Acres (1892) and Sag Harbor (1900) he presented the life of the common people of America with directness and simplicity, although often with the sentimentality made popular by Dickens ; while in The Minute Men (1886) and The Rev. Griffith Daven- 1 The dates given in connection with plays indicate when the plays were first acted. 340 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. port (1899) he dramatized subjects from the Revolution and the Civil War. William Gillette (1855- ), in his writing as in his acting, frankly has for his purpose merely to amuse by farces and thrill by melo- dramas, but he shows the same tendency toward Ameri- can themes in Held by the Enemy (1886) and Secret Service (1895), in both of which the scene is laid in the South during the Civil War. Augustus Thomas (1859- ) is deeply interested in improving the tech- nique of the native drama, and has accomplished much toward this end by his skilful craftsmanship ; he also uses American material, in Mizzoura (1893) and Arizona (1899) picturing life in the Southwest, in The Witching Hour (1907) handling the theme of mind-reading against a background of Kentucky life, and in As a Man Thinks (191 1) sketching an admirable portrait of a cultured Jewish physician in New York who by his wise strength helps to reunite a divided household. David Belasco (1859- ), most widely known perhaps for his artistic skill in stage management, especially in lighting effects, is also significant in the history of modern play-writing for his tendency toward " exotic romance " in Madame Butterfly (1900) and The Darling of the Gods (1902), based on Japanese life, and toward the romance of the American frontier in The Girl of the Golden West (1905) and The Rose of the Rancho (1906). With the plays of Langdon E. Mitchell (1862- ) there is a return to social satire ; his dramatizations of Thackeray's Vanity Fair and Pendennis, in 1899 and 19 1 6 respectively, have been very successful, and The New York Idea (1906) is a satire, at once amusing and keen, on social conditions caused by easy divorce. THE DRAMA. 341 Clyde Fitch (1865-1909), the most prolific of modern American dramatists, producing in twenty years thirty- two original plays besides many adaptations, also dealt chiefly with American social conditions and mora) ques- tions, although in Nathan Hale (1898), Barbara Ftietchie (1899), and Major Andre (1903) he treated themes from American history. The Climbers (1901), one of his best plays, in its opening scenes contains scathing yet de- lightful satire on the heartless vanity of some would-be fashionable women ; and the closing scenes are a powerful though not wholly natural picture of tragic deterioration through intemperance and stock-gambling. The Truth (1906) begins very entertainingly with scenes revealing the habitual fibbing of a woman who is flirting with the husband of her friend ; it grows painful and tragic when her husband loses faith in her because of her falsehoods ; but the emotional reconciliation lacks seriousness and reality. Mr. Fitch might have deepened and broadened had he lived longer ; but his work as it stands is neither very intellectual nor very passionate, and his realism, like that of much contemporary prose fiction, is rather a study of local types and conditions — in his case centring too often in New York — than a truthful picture of human nature in its broad and deep essentials. The Great Divide (1906), by William Vaughn Moody (1869-19 10), has already been spoken of in connection with his other works (see page 330) ; it strikes a far deeper note than most American plays of the day, because, while it portrays local types of West and East, it also presents a fundamental problem of human life. Percy MacKaye (1875- ), like Mr. 342 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. 1 Moody, is a poet as well as a playwright, and his dramas have therefore more richness and fulness for the reader than most plays intended merely to be acted. His fifteen plays have a wide range of subject and man- ner. Fenris the Wolf (published 1905, never acted) in scenes full of passionate poetry tells a story of Norse mythology, yet develops the universal truth that love may exalt the bestial into the human. The Canterbury Pilgrims (1903, 1909) l is a charming dramatization of the Prologue to Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, in which the pilgrims are set to talking and acting in entire har- mony with their characters as sketched by Chaucer. Jeanne d' Arc (1906) is a skilful historical play. Sappho and Phaon (1907) retells with great beauty and pathos the old legend of the love of the Greek poetess for a fisherman, who is fascinated by her beauty, thinking her a goddess, but finally returns with gladness to the humble human love of wife and children. Mater (1908), a comedy, deals with American politics. The Scarecrow (1908, 1909) is a free and original handling of Haw- thorne's Feathertop, and satirizes hollow pretensions in society, at the same time (says the author) bringing out " the tragedy of the ludicrous." Anti-Matrimony (19 10) is broad and wholesome satire upon modern doctrines of free love; and To-morrow (1912, 1913) handles gravely the problem of choosing a husband or wife. Gettysburg (19 12) and Sam Average (19 12), two of a group of one-act plays called Yankee Fantasies, treat themes from American life. A Thousand Years Ago (1914, 19 13) is a romance pitched in China and based 1 When two dates are given, the first is the year of publication; the second, the year of acting. THE DRAMA. 343 upon an old Persian tale. It would require a high degree of versatility to succeed perfectly in handling such varied subjects in so many modes, and Mr. Mac- Kaye has not wholly succeeded ; in particular his stage- craft seems not equal to his poetic gift ; but. he has greatly enriched American dramatic literature for the reader, and for the appreciative theatre-goer he has done something to restore poetry and imagination to the stage. Josephine Preston Peabody Marks (1874- ), in Marlowe (published 1901), The Piper (1909, 19 10), and The Wolf of Gubbio (published 1913), also handles literary and legendary material with poetic beauty and considerable dramatic imagination, although she gives an impression of didacticism by over-stressing spiritual love as a redemptive force. Contemporary American life furnishes the material for four of the best plays of Edward B. Sheldon (1886- ). Salvation Nell (1908) is a realistic pic- ture of slum life and the work of the Salvation Army in New York City. The Nigger (1909) portrays the tragic discovery by a Southern governor that he is the grand- son of a negress. The Boss (191 1) has American busi- ness and politics for a background, with the Irish " boss " and his cultivated wife in the foreground. Romance (19 15) pictures the love of a young American rector for an Italian opera singer and its purifying effect upon her. In this play there appears in highest degree a quality found in all Mr. Sheldon's work though rare in modern American drama, the harmoni- ous union of realism with romantic passion — a most promising sign in so young a playwright. Albert E. Thomas (1872- ) in Her Husband's Wife (19 10), a 344 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. high comedy, and in The Rainbow (1912), a play of sentiment, shows a remarkable gift for writing dialogue characterized by brilliant wit and easy conversational flow. Rachel Crothers, one of the few successful women dramatists, has won deserved recognition, espe- cially by the plays in which she deals with women's responsibilities and rights in modern society, such as The Three of Us (1906), A Man's World (1910), He and She (191 1), renamed The Herfords, and Ourselves (i9*3); During the last few years a new movement of much interest and significance has been spreading in the world of drama in America, the counterpart of an earlier movement in France, Russia, Germany, and Great Britain. In general it is a revolt from the commerciali- zation of the drama, and a struggle for more freedom and art in the composing and production of plays. In one aspect it is the protest of the amateur against the professional, of the lover of art against the exploiter of art. Because of the expense of running large theatres, with the inevitable tendency toward a commercial point of view in the selection and staging of plays, the new movement has resulted in the opening of so-called " Little Theatres " in several cities. The actors and playwrights are for the same reason often amateurs. The plays are usually simple productions, in one act, easily allowing a high degree of compression and unity and not overtaxing the abilities of the writers and performers. In staging, the new movement insists upon simplicity and artistic sincerity, aiming at a com- plete harmony between the play, the acting, and the setting. Whether the new theatre will succeed in get- THE DRAMA. 345 ting upon a sound financial basis without itself incur- ring the dangers of commercialism and professionalism, remains to be seen ; but the widespread interest in the new plays in university communities and other culti- vated centres is at least a good omen. The plays thus far produced in this country are by no means equal to the best of those called forth by the same movement abroad, such as the plays by Synge and Dunsany. But some of them have considerable merit either for acting or for reading. Suppressed Desires, by George C. Cook (1873- ) and Susan Glaspell (Mrs. Cook) (1882- ), in The Provincetown Plays, Second Series (19 16), is a delightful satire on recent fads in psycho- analysis. Simple but intense pictures of human passion may be found in The Clod, by Lewis Beach, published in Washington Square Plays (19 16); in Trifles (19 16), by Susan Glaspell; and in Confessional (1916), by Percival Wilde (1887- ). Even this brief discussion of the modern American drama would not be complete without a reference to masques and pageants, the best of which combine his- torical or allegorical significance with spectacular mag- nificence and poetic beauty. Percy MacKaye is a leader in this form of dramatic production ; he has written seven masques, including Sanctuary, a Bird Masque (19 13), first given in New Hampshire in honor of President and Mrs. Wilson, and since repeated be- fore some two hundred thousand spectators in various parts of the South and West ; Saint Louis, a Civic Masque (19 14), on the occasion of the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of the founding of the city of St. Louis ; and Caliban, a Community Masque (19 16), 346 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. given in New York City as a part of the celebration of the Shakspere centenary. The widespread and growing interest in the drama as a form of art is one of the most significant elements in the artistic life of the country. It has its roots in the new scientific and humanitarian view of life, with its sense of liberation from old shackles and its realiza- tion of the profound mysteries in the human spirit. There has recently been enacted upon the stage of the world the Great Tragedy of the most awful war in history. When this has thoroughly done its purgation of the human soul through pity and terror, and the world enters upon a new and better age, it may enter also into a period of great drama, some portion of which will perhaps be written in the United States of America. This imperfect record of three centuries of literature in America may profitably conclude with a backward glance over the entire tract which has been traversed, and with a forecast, necessarily tentative and vague, of that which lies yet unrevealed. Upon a broad survey, three stages in the historical development of American literature become manifest. The first stage, lasting some two hundred years, was that of crude or feeble Imitation of English Models. The writings usually had little artistic merit, and the intrinsic interest of the subject-matter grew less rather than greater as the years went on ; there was, however, a fairly steady im- provement in clearness and ease of style. The second stage, extending through about two-thirds of the nine- CONCLUSION. 347 teenth century, was preeminently that of English Culture in American Soil. Barren imitation gave place to absorption and free reproduction. Distinctively Amer- ican elements, in style, subject, and point of view, also became a larger part of the whole. But English lit- erary traditions, often those of the eighteenth century, underlay most of the best American literature of the period. Continental culture also exerted a strong influ- ence, the deepest impress being made by the poetry and philosophy of Germany. The third stage, not yet completed, is one of Transition, Experiment, and a New Spirit, a spirit more independent, more bold, sometimes more rash and crude, reaching out, often blindly, after new sources of power and new methods of expressing the life of the Present in America. What will be the final issue remains to be seen. The best literature yet produced in the New World is that which was dominated by the culture of the Old World. But the prophecy may be hazarded that if America ever achieves supreme excellence in any form of art, it will be by giving freest and fullest expression to her own life. This is not saying that the great American poet will write in an obscure dialect, and the great American novelist confine his studies to pork-packers, mining- camps, and ignorant mountaineers. The truest Ameri- canism, instead of being limited to what is peculiar to America, includes the entire life of the American peo- ple, what they have in common with England, Europe, and the world, as well as what they have alone. Americanism of this sort may be made the basis of a great literature ; and such a literature would be appre- ciably different from that of any other country, for 348 THE LITERATURE FROM 1870 to 1918. physical conditions, political institutions, and the min- gling of many powerful and talented races are combining to produce in North America a new type of man. An American literature which, while courageously wel- coming all good influences from abroad, at the core remains true, in form and spirit, to the life of the Great Republic may yet become one of the sublime literatures of the world. APPENDIX A. EXTRACTS FROM AMERICAN LITERATURE. John Smith. The Rescue by Pocahontas, At last they brought him [Smith] to Meronocomoco, where was Powhatan their Emperor. Here more then two hundred of those grim Courtiers stood wondering at him, as he had beene a monster ; till Powhatan and his trayne had put them- selues in their greatest braveries. Before a fire vpon a seat like a bedsted, he sat covered, with a great robe, made of Rarowcun skinnes, and all the tayles hanging by. On either hand did sit a young wench of 1 6 or 1 8 yeares, and along on each side the house, two rowes of men, and behind them as many women, with all their heads and shoulders painted red ; many of their heads bedecked with the white downe of Birds ; but every one with something : and a great chayne of white beads about their necks. At his entrance before the King, all the people gaue a great shout. The Queene of Appamatuck was appointed to bring him water to wash his hands, and another brought him a bunch of feathers, in stead of a Towell to dry them : having feasted him after their best barbarous manner they could, a long consultation was held, but the conclusion was, two great stones were brought before Powhatan : then as many as could layd hands on him, dragged him to them, and thereon laid his head, and being ready with their clubs, to beate out his braines, Pocahontas the Kings dearest daughter, when no intreaty could prevaile, got his head in her armes, and laid her owne vpon his to saue him from death : whereat the Emperour was contented he should liue to make him hatchets, and her bells, beads, and copper. — Historie of Virginia, pp. 48, 49, ed. 1624. 35i 352 APPENDIX. William Byrd. The Pilot Louse. In the meantime the three commissioners returned out of the Dismal [Swamp] the same way they went in, and, having joined their brethren, proceeded that night as far as Mr. Wil- son's. ... He told us a Canterbury tale of a North Briton, whose curiosity spurred him a long way into this great desert, as he called it, near twenty years ago, but he having no com- pass, nor seeing the sun for several days together, wandered about till he was almost famished ; but at last he bethought himself of a secret his countrymen make use of to pilot them- selves in a dark day. He took a fat louse out of his collar, and exposed it to the open day on a piece of white paper, which he brought along with him for his journal. The poor insect, having no eyelids, turned himself about till he found the dark- est part of the heavens, and so made the best of his way towards the north. By this direction he steered himself safe out, and gave such a frightful account of the monsters he saw, and the distresses he underwent, that no mortal since has been hardy enough to go upon the like dangerous discovery. The Great Dismal Swamp. Since the surveyors had entered the Dismal, they had laid eyes on no living creature : neither bird nor beast, insect nor reptile came in view. Doubtless the eternal shade that broods over this mighty bog, and hinders the sunbeams from blessing the ground, makes it an uncomfortable habitation for anything that has life. Not so much as a Zealand frog could endure so aguish a situation. It had one beauty, however, that delighted the eye, though at the expense of all the other senses : the moisture of the soil preserves a continual verdure, and makes every plant an evergreen, but at the same time the foul damps ascend without ceasing, corrupt the air, and render it unfit for respiration. Not even a turkey buzzard will venture to fly over it. The Early North Carolinians. In these sad circumstances, the kindest thing we could do for our suffering friends was to give them a place in the Litany. Our chaplain, for his part, did his office, and rubbed us up with a seasonable sermon. This was quite a new thing to our brethren of North Carolina, who live in a climate where no clergyman can breathe, any more than spiders in Ireland. COLONIAL LITERATURE. 353 ... One thing may be said for the inhabitants of that prov- ince, that they . . . have the least superstition of any people living. They do not know Sunday from any other day, any more than Robinson Crusoe did, which would give them a great advantage were they given to be industrious. But they keep so many Sabbaths every week, that their disregard of the seventh day has no manner of cruelty in it, either to servants or cattle. — The History of the Dividing Line, pp. 20, 22, «d. 1 841. William Bradford. The Departure of the Pilgrims from Ley den. So they lefte y* goodly & pleasante citie, which had been ther resting place near 12. years; but they knew they were pilgrimes, & looked not much on those things, but lift up their eyes to y e heavens, their dearest cuntrie, and quieted their spirits. When they came to y e place they found y e ship and all things ready ; and shuch of their freinds as could not come with them followed after them, and sundrie also came from Amsterdame to see them shipte and to take their leave of them. That night was spent with litle sleepe by y e most, but with freindly entertainmente & christian discourse and other reall expressions of true christian love. The next day, the wind being faire, they wente aborde, and their freinds with them, where truly dolfull was y e sight of that sade and mournfull parting; to see what sighs and sobbs and praires did sound amongst them, what tears did gush from every eye, & pithy speeches peirst each harte ; that sundry of y e Dutch strangers y t stood on y e key as spectators, could not refraine from tears. Yet comfortable and sweete it was to see shuch lively and true expressions of dear and unfained love. But y e tide (which stays for no man) caling them away y* were thus loath to departe, their Reve d : pastor falling downe on his knees, (and they all with him,) with watrie cheeks cofn- ended them with most fervente praiers to the Lord and his blessing. And then with mutuall imbrases and many tears, they tooke their leaves one of an other; which proved to be v e last leave to many of them. — Of Plimoth Plantation, pp. 72, 73, ed. 1898. William Bradford and Edward Winslow. The First Encounter. About midnight we heard a great and hideous cry, and our Sentinell called, Arme, arme. So we bestirred our selues 354 APPENDIX. and shot off a couple of Muskets, and noyse ceased. . . . About fiue a clock in the morning wee began to be stirring, . . . after Prayer we prepared our selues for brek-fast, and for a journey, and it being now the twilight in the morning, it was thought meet to carry the things downe to the Shallop. . . . Anone, all upon a sudden, we heard a great & strange cry, which we knew to be the same voyces, though they varied their notes, one of our company being abroad came running in, and cryed, They are men, Indians, Indians ; and withall, their arrowes came flying amongst vs, our men ran out with all speed to recover their armes, as by the good Provi- dence of God they did. In the meane time, Captaine Miles Standish, having a snaphance ready, made a shot, and after him another, after they two had shot, other two of vs were ready. . . . We called vnto them [those at the shallop] to know how it was with them, and they answered, Well, Well, every one, and be of good courage. . . . The cry of our enemies was dreadfull, . . . their note was after this manner, Woath woach ha ha hach woach. . . . There was a lustie man and no whit lesse valiant, who was thought to bee their Captaine, stood behind a tree within halfe a musket shot of vs, and there let his arrowes fly at vs ; . . . he stood three shots of a Musket, at length one tooke as he sayd full ayme at him, after which he gaue an extraordinary cry and awa} they went all, wee followed them about a quarter of a mile : . . . then wee shouted all together two severall times, and shot off a couple of muskets and so returned : this wee did that they might see wee were not afrayd of them nor dis- couraged. . , . So after wee had given God thankes for our deliverance, wee tooke our Shallop and went on our Iour- ney, and called this place, The first Encounter. — Journal^ pp. 51-54, ed. 1865 (Library of New England History). Madam Winthrop. A Puritan Love-Letter. My most sweet Husband, How dearly welcome thy kind letter was to me, I am not able to express. The sweetness of it did much refresh me. What can be more pleasing to a wife, than to hear of the welfare of her best beloved, and how he is pleased with her poor endeavors ! I blush to hear myself commended, know- ing my own wants. But it is your love that conceives the best, and makes all things seem better than they are. I wish COLONIAL LITERATURE. 355 that I may be always pleasing to thee, and that those com- forts we have in each other may be daily increased, as far as they be pleasing to God. I will use that speech to thee, that Abigail did to David, I will be a servant to wash the feet of my lord. I will do any service wherein I may please my good husband. I confess I cannot do enough for thee ; but thou art pleased to accept the will for the deed, and rest con- tented. I have many reasons to make me love thee, whereof I will name two : First, because thou lovest God ; and, secondly, because that thou lovest me. If these two were wanting, all the rest would be eclipsed. But I must leave this discourse, and go about my household affairs. I am a bad housewife to be so long from them ; but I must needs borrow a little time to talk with thee, my sweet heart. The term is more thaii half done. I hope thy business draws to an end. It will be but two or three weeks before I see thee, though they be long ones. God will bring us together in his good time ; for which time I shall pray. I thank the Lord, we are all in health. We are very glad to hear so good news of our son Henry. The Lord make us thankful for all his mercies to us and ours. And thus, with my mother's and my own best love to yourself and all the rest, I shall leave scribbling. The weather being cold, makes me make haste. Farewell, my good husband ; the Lord keep thee. Your obedient wife, Margaret Winthrop. Groton [England], November 22 [1628]. — Winthrop's The History of New England, Vol. I., Appen- dix, p. 353, ed. 1825. Thomas Hooker. The Traitor at the King^s Court. It is with a poore humbled sinner, as it is with a malefac- tour or traitor, who is pursued with a Pursuivant. . . . He hath offended his Soveraigne, and hee is driven to a stand, he cannot procure a pardon, nor hee cannot escape ; therefore hee is content to come in, and yeeld his necke to the blocke. . . . Then [he] heareth other newes, which saith, if hee will but bee humbled before his Maiestie, and come to the Court, and importune him for pardon, it is likely that he may be pardoned, nay it shall be so. Marry (saith he) that I will with all my heart ; and so hee sets forward, and comes to the 35 6 APPENDIX. Court. . . . And about the Court hee attends, and askes for every man that comes forth, Did you not heare the King speake of me? . . . At last, the King himselfe lookes out at a window, and saith, Is this the Traytor? Yes, this is he that hath beene humbled, and lyes at your mercy. Then the King calls out and saith, His pardon is drawing, and it is comming by and by, and so the King smiles on him. Oh then his heart leapes in his breast, and he saith, The Lord preserve your grace, I thinke there was never such a mercifull Prince knowne in the world. — The Soules Implantation, pp. 189, 190, ed. 1640. Nathaniel Ward. Sayings of a Puritan Carlyle, Either I am in an Appoplexie, or that man is in a Lethar- gie, who doth not now sensibly feele God shaking the heavens over his head, and the earth under his feet : . . . So that little Light of Comfort or Counsell is left to the sonnes of men. . . . Sathan is now in his passions . . . ; hee loves to fish in royled waters. Though that Dragon cannot sting the vitals of the Elect mortally, yet that Beelzebub can fly- blow their Intellectuals miserably. * * * He that is willing to tolerate any unsound Opinion, that his own may also be tolerated, though never so sound, will for a need hang Gods Bible at the Devils girdle. * * * I honour the woman that can honour her self with her attire : a good Text alwayes de- serves a fair Margent : . . . but when I hear a nugiperous Gentledame inquire what dresse the Qveen is in this week : what the nudiustertian fashion of the Court ; . . . with egge to be in it in all hast, what ever it be ; I look at her as the very gizzard of a trifle, the product of a quarter of a cypher, the epitome of nothing, fitter to be kickt, if shee were of a kickable substance, than either honoured or humoured. . . . It is no marvell they weare drailes, on the hinder part of their heads, having nothing as it seems in the fore-part, but a few Squirrills braines, to help them frisk from one ill-favour'd fashion to another. * * * No man ever saw a gray haire on the head or beard of any Truth, wrinckle, or morphew on its face. . . . When Christ whips Market-makers out of his Temple, he raises dust: but when hee enters in with Truth and Holinesse, he calls for deep silence. — The Simple Cobler Q f Aggawam, pp. 1-2, 8, 24-25, 21, 36, ed. 1647. COLONIAL LITERATURE. 357 Anne Bradstreet. Her Child-like Muse. My Muse unto a Childe, I fitly may compare, Who sees the riches of some famous Fayre; He feeds his eyes, but understanding lacks, To comprehend the worth of all those knacks; « • And thousand times his mazed mind doth wish Some part, at least, of that brave wealth was his; But seeing empty wishes nought obtaine, At night turnes to his Mother's cot againe, And tells her tales ; (his full heart over-glad) Of all the glorious sights his eyes haVe had. •In honour of Du Bartas, in The Tenth Muse, p. 197, ed. 1650. Flowers and Birds. The Primrose pale, and azure Violet, Among the verdurous Grasse hath Nature set, That when the Sun (on's love) the earth doth shine, These might as Lace, set out her Garments fine; The fearful Bird his little house now builds, In trees, and walls, in cities, and in fields. - The Four Seasons of the Yeare, in The Tenth Muse, p. 57, ed, 1650. Contemplations . Some time now past in the Autumnal Tide, When Phoebus wanted but one hour to bed, The trees all richly clad, yet void of pride, Were gilded o're by his rich golden head. ****** I heard the merry grashopper then sing, The black clad Cricket bear a second part, They kept one tune, and plaid on the same string, Seeming to glory in their little Art. Under the cooling shadow of a stately Elm Close sate I by a goodly Rivers side, Where gliding streams the Rocks did overwhelm; A lonely place, with pleasures dignifi'd. 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. 358 APPENDIX. O Time the fatal wrack of mortal things, That draws oblivions curtains over kings, Their sumptuous monuments, men know them not, Their names without a Record are forgot, Their parts, their ports, their pomp 's all laid in th' dust, Nor wit nor gold, nor buildings scape times rust; But he whose name is grav'd in the white stone Shall last and shine when all of these are gone. — Contemplations, stanzas I, 9, 21, 33, in Several Poems, ed. 1678. Longing for Heaven. As weary pilgrim, now at rest, hugs with delight his silent nest; His wasted limbes, now lye full soft that myrie steps, haue troden oft; Blesses himself, to think vpon his dangers past, and travailes done; . . # A pilgrim I, on earth, perplext with sinns, with cares, and sorrows vext, By age and paines brought to decay, and my Clay house mouldring away, Oh how I long to be at rest and soare on high among the blest. — Works, pp. 42, 43, ed. 1867, Michael Wigglesworth. The Day of Doom. Still was the night, Serene & Bright when all Men sleeping lay; Calm was the season, & carnal reason thought so 't would last for ay. . . • So at the last, whilst Men sleep fast in their security, Surpriz'd they are in such a snare as cometh suddenly. For at midnight break forth a Light, which turn'd the night to day, And speedily an hideous cry did all the world dismay. . . . They rush from Beds with giddy heads, and to their windows run, Viewing this light, which shines more bright then doth the Noon-day Sun. Straightway appears (they see't with tears) the Son of God most dread; COLONIAL LITERATURE. 359 Who with his Train comes on amain to Judge both Quick and Dead. ****** My grace to one is wrong to none : none can Election claim Amongst all those their souls that lose, none can Rejection blame. He that may chuse, or else refuse, all men to save or spill, May this Man chuse, and that refuse, redeeming whom he will. ****** They wring their hands, their caitiff-hands, and gnash their teeth for terrour; They cry,, they roar for anguish sore, and gnaw their tongues for horrour. But get away without delay, Christ pities not your cry; Depart to Hell, there may you yell, and roar Eternally. — The Day of Doom, stanzas 1, 4, 5, 6, 43, 205, ed. 1 71 5. Cotton Mather. To his Critics. Had not my Heart been Trebly Oak'd and Brass'd for such Encounters as this our History may meet withal, I would have worn the Silk-worms Motto, Operitur dum Operatur, and have chosen to have written Anony?nously ; or, as Claudius Salmasius calls himself Walo Messalinus, as Ludovicus Mo- iinceus calls himself Ludiomceus Colvinus, as Carolus Scriba- nius calls himself Clarus Bonarscius, . . . Thus I would have tried, whether I could not have Anagrammatized my Name into some Concealment. . . . Whereas now I freely confess, 'tis COTTON MATHER that has written all these things. ... It will not be so much a Surprise unto me, if I should live to see our Church-History vexed with Ante-mad- versions of Calumnious Writers, as it would have been unto Virgil, to read his Bucolicks reproached by the Antibucolica of a Nameless Scribbler. . . . The Writer whom I last quoted, hath given us a Story of a young Man in High-Hol- bourn, who being after his death Dissected, there was a Serpent with divers Tails, found in the left Ventricle of his Heart. I make no question, that our Church-History will 3<5o APPENDIX. find some Reader disposed like that Writer, with an Heart as full of Serpent and Venom as ever it can hold. — Magnalia. General Introduction, § 6, ed. 1702. The Character of John Cotton, He would often say with some regret, after the departure of a Visitant, / had rather have given this Man an handful of Money, than have been kept thus long out of 7ny Study. . . . He was an early Riser, taking the Morning for the Muses ; and in his latter Days forbearing a Supper, he turn'd his former Supping time, into a Reading, a Thinking, a Praying- time. Twelve Hours in a Day he commonly studied, and would call that a Scholar's Day. . . . Once ... an humor- ous and imperious Brother, following Mr. Cotton home to his House, . . . rudely told him, That his Ministry was become generally, either dark, or flat : Whereto this meek Man, very mildly and gravely, made only this Answer: Both, Brothet, it may be, both : Let me have your Prayers that it may ba otherwise. . . . Another time, when Mr. Cotton had mod estly replied unto one that would much Talk and Crack of his Insight into the Revelations : Brother, [must confess my self to want Light in those Mysteries. The Man went home, and sent him a Pou?id of Candles : Upon which Action this good Man bestowed only a silent Smile. He would not set the Beacon of his Great Soul on fire, at the landing of such b little Cock-boat. — Magnalia, Book III., p. 26, ed. 1702. Jonathan Edwards. The Sweet Glory of God in Nature. After this my Sense of divine Things gradually increased, and became more and more lively, and had more of that inward Sweetness. The Appearance of every thing was altered : there seenfd to be, as it were, a calm, sweet Cast, or Appearance of divine Glory, in almost every Thing. God's Excellency, his Wisdom, his Purity and Love, seemed to appear in every Thing; in the Sun, Moon and Stars; in the Clouds, and blue Sky ; in the Grass, Flowers, Trees ; in the Water, and all Nature ; which used greatly to fix my Mind. I often used to sit & view the Moon for a long time ; and so in the Day-time, spent much time in viewing the Clouds & Sky, to behold the sweet Glory of God in these Things. — The Life of Jonathan Edwards, p. 27, ed. 1765. COLONIAL LITERATURE. 361 Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God. The God that holds you over the pit of hell, much as one holds a spider, or some loathsome insect over the fire, abhors you, and is dreadfully provoked : his wrath towards you burns like fire ; he looks upon you as worthy of nothing else, but to be cast into the fire ; he is of purer eyes than to bear to have you in his sight ; you are ten thousand times more abominable in his eyes than the most hateful venomous serpent is in ours. ... O sinner ! Consider the fearful danger you are in : it is a great furnace of wrath, a wide and bottomless pit, full of the fire of wrath, that you are held over in the hand of that God, whose wrath is provoked and incensed as much against you, as against many of the damned in hell. You hang by a slender thread, with the flames of divine wrath flashing about it, and ready every moment to singe it and burn it asunder. — The Works of President Edwards, Vol. VII., pp. 170, 171, ed. 1830. Samuel Sewall. A Puritan's Diary. Friday May 22nd. 1685, had a private Fast : the Magistrates of this town with their Wives here. Mr. Eliot prayed, Mr. Willard preached. I am afraid of Thy judgements — Text Mother gave. Mr. Allen prayed ; cessation half an hour. Mr. Cotton Mather prayed ; Mr. Mather preached Ps. 79, 9. Mr. Moodey prayed about an hour and a half; Sung the 79th Psalm from the 8th to the End : distributed some Biskets, and Beer, Cider, Wine. The Lord hear in Heaven his dwell- ing place. * * * Friday, Nov r 6. . . . Having occasion this day to go to Mr. Hayward the Publick Notary's House, I speak to him about his cutting off his Hair, and wearing a Perriwig of contrary Colour : mention the words of our Saviour, Can ye not make one Hair white or black : and Mr. Alsop's Sermon. He alledges, The Doctor advised him to it. * * * Monday, Oct. 22 [1688]. Mr. Isaac Walker is buried. . . . Deacon Eliot and I led the young widow, and had Scarfs and Gloves. The Lord fit me, that my Grave may be a Sweetening place for my Sin-polluted Body. * * * April n* 1692. Went to Salem, where, in the Meeting-house, the persons accused of Witchcraft were examined ; was a very great Assembly ; 'twas awfull to see how the afflicted persons were agitated. . . . A.ugt. 19^ 1692. . . . This day George Burrough, John Willard, Jn° Procter, Martha Carrier and George Jacobs 362 APPENDIX. were executed at Salem, a very great number of Spectators being present. . . . All of them said they were inocent, Carrier and all. Mr. Mather says they all died by a Right- eous Sentence. * * * Nov. 6 [1692]. Joseph threw a knop of Brass and hit his Sister Betty on the forhead so as to make it bleed and swell ; upon which, and for his playing at Prayer-time, and eating when Return Thanks, I whipd him pretty smartly. When I first went in (call'd by his Grand- mother) he sought to shadow and hide himself from me behind the head of the Cradle : which gave me the sorrowfull remembrance of Adam's carriage. * * * Second-Day ; Jan? 24. 170I I paid Capt. Belchar ^8-15-0. Took 24 s in my pocket, and gave my Wife the rest of my cash £4. 3-8, and tell her she shall now keep the Cash ; if I want I will borrow of her. She has a better faculty than I at managing Affairs : I will assist her ; and will endeavour to live upon my Salary ; will see what it will doe. The Lord give his Blessing. * * * Feria septima, Apr. 3 [1708]. I went to Cous. Dumer's to see his News-Letter : while I was there Mr. Nath 1 Henchman came in with his Flaxen Wigg; I wish'd him Joy, i.e. of his Wedding. I could not observe that he said a Word to me ; and generally he turn'd his back upon me, when none were in the room but he and I. This is the Second time I have spoken to him, in vain, as to any Answer from him. First was upon the death of his Wife, I cross'd the way near our house, and ask'd him how he did : He only she w'd his Teeth. * * * 8? 1 [1720]. . . . I went to Madam Winthrop's just at 3. Spake to her, saying, my loving wife died so soon and suddenly, 'twas hardly convenient for me to think of Marrying again ; 1 however I came to this Resolution, that I would not make my Court to any person without first Consulting with her. ... 8? 6^ . . . A little after 6. p.m. I went to Madam Winthrop's. . . . Madam seem'd to harp upon the same string. Must take care of her Children. . . . I gave her a piece of Mr. Belcher's Cake and Ginger-Bread wrapped up in a clean sheet of Paper. . . . My Daughter {udith was gon from me and I was more lonesom — might elp to forward one another in our Journey to Canaan. ... I took leave about 9 aclock. ... S T . io 1 . 11 . . . In the Evening I visited Madam Winthrop, who treated me with a great deal of Curtesy; Wine, Marmalade. ... 8y 12. . . . Madam Win- throp's Countenance was much changed from what 'twas on 1 Mrs. Sewall had died on May 26, only four months before. Judge Sewall was now sixty-eight, and Mrs. Winthrop fifty-six. COLONIAL LITERATURE. 363 Monday, look'd dark and lowering. ... I got my Chair in place, had some Converse, but very Cold and indifferent to what 'twas before. Ask'd her to acquit me of Rudeness if I drew off her Glove. . . . Got it off. ... I gave her Dr. Preston, The Church's Marriage and the Church's Carriage, which cost me 6 s . . . . Told her the reason why I came every other night was lest I should drink too deep draughts of Pleasure. She had talk'd of Canary, her kisses were to me better than the best Canary. ... 8? 19. . . . Visited Madam Winthrop. . . . Was Courteous to me; but took occasion to speak pretty earnestly about my keeping a Coach : I said 'twould cost £ ioo. per anum : she said t would cost but £ 40. . . . Came away somewhat late. ... 8 r 21. . . . About 6. a-clock I go to Madam Winthrop's ; Sarah told me her Mistress was gon out. . . . She presently order'd me a Fire ; so I went in, having Dr. Sibb's Bowels with me to read. . . . After a good while and Claping the Garden door twice or thrice, she [Mrs. W.] came in. . . . I ask'd when our pro- ceedings should be made publick : She said They were like to be no more publick than they were already. Offer'd me no Wine that I remember. . . . Nov 1 ; 7 t . h ... I went to Mad. Winthrop ; found her rocking her little Katee in the Cradle. . . . She set me an arm'd Chair and Cusheon ; and so the Cradle was between her arm'd Chair and mine. Gave her the remnant of my Almonds ; She did not eat of them as before. . . . I told her I loved her : . . . She said had a great respect for me. ... I did not bid her draw off her Glove as sometime I had done. Her Dress was not so clean as sometime it had been. Jehovah jireh ! . . . Novf 11 th Went not to M™ Winthrop's. This is the 2? Withdraw. . . . Nov? 21. . . . Madam Winthrop made a Treat for her Children: ... I knew nothing of it ; but the same day abode in the Council Chamber for fear of the Rain, and din'd alone upon Kilby's Pyes and good Beer. — Diary of Samuel Sewall, ed. 1878- 1882 (Coll. Mass. Hist. Soc, Series V., Vols.V.-VII., passim). Madam Knight. Travelling in Olden Times. Monday, Octb'r. y e second, 1704. — About three o'clock afternoon, I began my Journey from Boston to New-Haven. . . . Mad m Billings . . . Very kindly went wyth me to y e Tavern, where I hoped to get my guide, And desired the Hostess to inquire of her guests whether any of them would 364 APPENDIX. go with mee. But they being tyed by the Lipps to a pewtel engine, scarcely allowed themselves time to say. . . . Upon this, to my no small surprise, son John arrose, and gravely demanded what I would give him to go with me? . . . Well, Mr. John, sais I, make your demands. Why, half a pss. [piece] of eight and a dram, sais John. I agreed, and gave him a Dram (now) in hand to bind the bargain. . . . His shade on his Hors resembled a Globe on a Gate post. . . . Thus Jogging on with an easy pace, my Guide telling mee it was dangero's to Ride hard in the Night, (wh ch his horse had the sence to avoid,) Hee entertained me with the Adven- turs he had passed by late Rideing, and eminent Dangers he had escaped, so that ... I didn't know but I had mett w lh a Prince disguis'd. ... In about an how'r, or something more, after we left the Swamp, we come to Billinges, where I was to Lodg. . . . Shee [the landlady's daughter] conducted me to a parlour in a little back Lento [lean-to], w ch was almost fiU'd w th the bedsted, w ch was so high that I was forced to climb on a chair to gitt up to y e wretched bed that lay on it ; on w ch having Stretcht my tired Limbs, and lay'd my head on a Sad-colourd pillow, I began to think on the transactions of y e past day. Tuesday, October y e third, about 8 in the morn- ing, I with the Post proceeded forward without observing any thing remarkable ; And about two, afternoon, Arrived at the Post's second stage, where the western Post mett him and ex- changed Letters. Here, having called for something to eat, y e woman bro't in a Twisted thing like a cable, but something whiter ; and laying it on the bord, tugg'd for life to bring it into a capacity to spread ; w ch having w th great pains accom- plished, shee serv'd in a dish of Pork and Cabbage. ... I, being hungry, gott a little down; but . . . what cabbage I swallowed serv'd me for a Cudd the whole day after. . . . About Three afternoon went on with my Third Guide, who Rode very hard : and having crossed Providence Ferry, we come to a River w ch they Generally Ride thro'. But I dare not venture ; so the Post got a Ladd^and Cannoo to carry me to tother side, and hee rid thro' and Led my hors. The Cannoo was very small and shallow, so that when we were in she seem'd redy to take in water, which greatly terrified me, and caused me to be very circumspect, sitting with my hands fast on each side, my eyes stedy, not daring so much as to lodg my tongue a hair's breadth more on one side of my mouth then tother, nor so much as think on Lott's wife, for a wry thought would have oversett our wherey : But was soon put COLONIAL LITERATURE. 365 out of this pain, . . . and Rewarding my sculler, again mounted and made the best of our way forwards. — The Jour- nals of Madam Knight, and Rev. Mr. Buckingham, pp. 9- 16, ed. 1825. Mrs. Mary Rowlandson. An Indian Massacre. On the tenth of February 1675. [O.S.] Came the Indians with great numbers upon Lancaster : Their first coming was about Sun-rising ; hearing the noise of some Guns, we looked out ; several Houses were burning, and the Smoke ascending to Heaven. ... At length they came and beset our own house, and quickly it was the dolefullest day that ever mine eyes saw. . . . Some in our house were fighting for their lives, others wallowing in their blood, the House on fire over our heads, and the bloody Heathen ready to knock us on the head, if we stirred out. . . . The bullets rattled against the House, as if one had taken an handfull of stones and threw them. . . . But out we must go, the fire increasing, and coming along behind us, roaring, and the Indians gaping before us with their Guns, Spears and Hatchets to devour us. No sooner were we out of the House, but my Brother in Law . . . fell down dead. . . . The bulletts flying thick, one went through my side, and the same (as would seem) through the bowels and hand of my dear Child in my arms. . . . There were twelve killed, some shot, some stab'd with their Spears, some knock'd down with their Hatchets. . . . There was one who was chopt into the head with a Hatchet, and stript naked, and yet was crawling up and down. It is a solemn Sight to see so many Christians lying in. their blood, some here, and some there, like a company of Sheep torn by Wolves. All of them stript naked by a company of hell- hounds, roaring, singing, ranting and insulting, as if they would have torn our very hearts out. — A Narrative of the Captivity and Restauration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson, pp. 1-5, Cambridge ed., 1682. A Collection of Poems. Commencement at Harvard. Thus clad, in careless order mixt by chance, In haste they both [belles and beaux] along the streets advance; 'Till near the brink of Charles's beauteous stream, They stop, and think the lingring boat to blame. 366 APPENDIX. Soon as the empty skiff salutes the shore, In with impetuous haste they clustering pour, The men the head, the stern the ladies grace, And neighing horses rill the middle space. . . . 'Till row'd with care, they reach th' opposing side, Leap on the shore, and leave the threat'ning tide. While to receive the pay the boatman stands, And chinking pennys jingle in his hands. Eager the sparks assault the waiting cars, Fops meet with fops, and clash in civil wars. Off fly the wigs, as mount their kicking heels, The rudely bouncing head with anguish swells. . . And now thy town; O Cambridge ! strikes the sight Of the beholders with confus'd delight; Thy green campaigns wide open to the view, And buildings where bright youth their fame pursue. e - The thing which first the num'rous crowd employs, Is by a breakfast to begin their joys. While wine, which blushes in a chrystal glass Streams down in floods, and paints their glowing face. And now the time approaches when the bell, With dull continuance tolls a solemn knell. Numbers of blooming youth in black array Adorn the yard, and gladden all the day. In two strait lines they instantly divide, While each beholds his partner on th' opposing side, Then slow, majestick, walks the learned head, The senate follow with a solemn tread, Next levi's tribe in reverend order move, Whilst the uniting youth the show improve. They glow in long procession till they come, Near to the portals of the sacred dome. . . . The work begun with pray'r, with modest pace, A youth advancing mounts the desk with grace, To all the audience sweeps a circling bow, Then from his lips ten thousand graces flow. Commencement, in A Collection of Poems, pp. 48-51, ed. 1744- Joseph Green. Dr. Byles on his Cat. She never thirsted for the chicken's blood; Her teeth she only used to chew her food; •Harmless as satires which her master writes, A foe to scratching, and unused to bites, She in the study was my constant mate; There we together many evenings sate. COLONIAL LITERATURE. 367 Whene'er I felt my towering fancy fail, I stroked her head, her ears, her back, and tail; And as I stroked improved my dying song From the sweet notes of her melodious tongue : Her purrs and mews so evenly kept time, She purred in metre, and she mewed in rhyme. But when my dulness has too stubborn proved, Nor could by Puss's music be removed, Oft to the well-known volumes have I gone, And stole a line from Pope or Addison. From Stedman and Hutchinson's A Library of American Litera- ture, Vol. II., p. 435. Thomas Godfrey. Jealousy. In a dark Corner hell-born Jealousy, A Wan and haggard Spright, I did espy; Watchful she rolPd her ghastly Eyes around, And cautious trod, to catch the whisp'ring Sound : Her Heart forever deathless Vultures tear, And by her Side stalk Anguish and Despair : Curst is the Wretch with her dire Rage possess'd, When fancied Ills destroy his wonted Rest. — The Court of Fancy, p. 23, ed. 17621 The Instability of Human Greatness. Bethas. True, I am fall'n, but glorious was my fall, The day was brav'ly fought, we did our best, But victory 's of heav'n. Look o'er yon field, See if thou findest one Arabian back Disfigur'd with dishonourable wounds. No, here, deep on their bosoms, are engrav'd The marks of honour ! 'twas thro' here their souls Flew to their blissful seats. Oh ! why did I Survive the fatal day? To be this slave, To be the gaze and sport of vulgar crouds, Thus, like a shackl'd tyger, stalk my round, And grimly low'r upon the shouting herd. Ye Gods ! . . . King. . . . Hence, bear him to his dungeon; Iysias, we here commit him to thy charge. Bethas. Welcome my dungeon, but more welcome death. Trust not too much, vain Monarch, to your pow'r, Know Fortune places all her choicest gifts On ticklish heights, they shake with ev'ry breeze, 368 APPENDIX. And oft some rude wind hurls them to the ground Jove's thunder strikes the lofty palaces, While the low cottage, in humility, Securely stands, and sees the mighty ruin. What King can boast, to morrow as to-day, Thus, happy will I reign? The rising sun May view him seated on a splendid throne, And, setting, see him shake the servile chain. — The Priitce of Parthia, I., v., in Juvenile Poems, etc., pp, I2Q 121, ed. 1765. Henry Laurens. A Noble Spirit in Prison. From White Hall, I was conducted in a close hackney coach, under the charge of Col. Williamson, a polite, genteel officer, and two of the illest-looking fellows I had ever seen. The coach was ordered to proceed by the most private ways to the Tower. It had been rumored that a rescue would be at- tempted. . . . Governor Gore conducted me to my apart- ments at a warder's house. As I was entering the house I heard some of the people say : " Poor old gentleman, bowed down with infirmities. He is come to lay his bones here." My reflection was, " I shall not leave a bone with you." I was very sick, but my spirits were good, and my mind forbod- ing good from the event of being a prisoner in London. . . . And now I found myself a close prisoner, indeed ; shut up in two small rooms, which together made about twenty feet square ; a warder my constant companion ; and a fixed bayo- net under my window. ... I discovered I was to pay rent for my little rooms, find my own meals and drink, bedding, coals, candles, etc. This drew from me an observation to the gentleman jailer : . . . " Whenever I caught a bird in America I found a cage and victuals for it.' 1 * * * The people around me thought, for a considerable time, my life in imminent danger [i.e. because of his illness]. I was of a different opinion. ... I asked the warder, " If he could lend me a book for amusement? " He gravely asked : " Will your honor be pleased to have 'Drelincourt upon death'?" I quickly turned to his wife, who was passing from making up my bed : " Pray, Madam, can you recommend an honest gold- smith, who will put a new head to my cane ; you see this old head is much worn? " " Yes, sir, I can. 11 The people under- stood me, and nothing more was said of " Drelincourt. 11 * * * Monday, 26 th February, Mr. Oswald . . . sent me the follow- REVOLUTIONARY LITERATURE. 369 Ing message : . . . " Their Lordships say, if you will point out anything for the benefit of Great Britain, in the present dispute with the Colonies, you shall be enlarged." ... I snatched up my pencil, and upon a sudden impulse wrote a aote to Mr. Oswald : . . . "I perceive, my dear friend, . . . hat if I were a rascal, I might presently get out of the Tower — I am not. ... I could point out a doctrine, known to every old woman in the kingdom, i A spoonful of honey will catch more flies, than a ton of vinegar.'' . . ." [Mr. Oswald visited him, and said :] " I showed the note you lately sent me to Lord Germain, who was at first very angry. He ex- claimed, ' Rascals ! rascals ! — we want no rascals ! Honey ! honey ! ! vinegar ! They have had too much honey and too little vinegar! They shall have less honey and more vinegar for the future ! ' " I said to Mr. Oswald, I 'should be glad to taste a little of his lordship's vinegar; his lordship's honey had been very unpleasant. * * * September 23? — For some time past I have been frequently and strongly tempted to make my escape from the Tower. ... At length I put a stop to farther applications by saying, " I will not attempt an escape. The gates were opened for me to enter ; they shall be opened for me to go out of the Tower. God Almighty sent me here for some purpose. I am determined to see the end of it." — A Narrative of the Captivity of Henry Lau- rens, from Stedman and Hutchinson's A Library of American Literature, Vol. III., pp. 109-113. The Columbian Magazine. Two Literary Coxcombs. There are certain species of folly, which, as they are the effects of an empty and unnecessary pride, deserve the lash of ridicule. ... Of this class, there is one, which cannot but be conspicuous both from its absurdity and numbers that are addicted to it. I mean, when a person pretends to an entire knowledge of those things that he is not at all acquainted with. ... I have heard the highest encomiums bestowed upon the works of Virgil, by persons who knew not Latin from Hebrew ; and Homer idolized by those who could not have distinguished Greek from Low Dutch. ... A young Gentleman, with whom I have a slight acquaintance, has often declared " that for his part, he should doubt the reality of a Trudging war [Trojan War] . . . did he not think it impossible, that Plato's elegant and lively description of it 370 APPENDIX. should be fiction, and entirely want foundation." . . . This fellow acts upon a large, and, indeed, an unlimited scale, and is acquainted with every author, and transaction of note, since the time of Adam to the present day. But, I have the honour of an acquaintance, with a lady, who, much in the same way, pursues a more contracted plan, which she manages with great credit. . . . She has selected one work, which has happened to be the Spectator, upon which she lavishes all the commendations she has to dispose of, and asserts its supremacy among books, without having read more than half a dozen pages in it. . . . She is extremely fond of having small and sociable parties at her house, at one of which a general conversation took place concerning English authors, and the precedency of their works. For a short time she was silent, and listened to the opinions of the company with more patience than I expected from her ; but, at length, after wrig- gling and twisting awhile in her chair, she broke forth like a torrent, somewhat in this manner : " No, gentlemen, you may talk as much as you please of your Popes and your Swifts, your Sternes, Steeles, and Addisons, but I insist upon it that the Spectator is the finest book that ever was printed in any language, or country whatever, and as for our English writers there is none of them could ever stand in competition with him." ... I shall conclude this paper, . . . with a quota- tion from a former number : Reader, " whatsoever thou hast observed that arouses thy detestation or contempt, that avoid." — The Retailer, No. V., in The Columbian Magazine, June, 1788, pp. 318-323. The Providence Gazette. A Dream of the Branding of Asses and Horses, I must tell you I don't heartily approve of every thing in the great man's letter that was in your last paper. — He that acknowledges that I am an Englishman, and tells me at the same time that I am to live under laws which I have no hand in making, and am to be taxed where I have no representa- tive, does but mock me. . . . But I found something in his \etter about a stamping law ; . . . and going to bed full of the matter, I had a very odd dream, which, if you please, I will relate to you. Methought the stamp law ended in one for stamping all our beasts of burthen ; . . . and ... I fancied that I saw all the horses of the town brought together in a pasture, . . . and amongst them were about half a dozen REVOLUTIONARY LITERATURE. 371 asses, being all we had. Soon after, the master-brander with his retinue approached the pasture in great pomp, one carry- ing a large silver brand in the form of the letter S and upon entering the field, they began with the asses, and branded them without the least interruption : They then drew near to the horses, and would have laid hold on a stately bay horse, but taking fright at the glittering of the brand, he snorted, kicked up his heels, and went off; I was sorry to see him fling the dirt in the gentleman's face ; and the whole drove being struck with the same panic, they leapt the fence, and ran off snorting and flinging up their heels. . . . And whilst the branding company stared, ... a very ragged country fellow said with a facetious grin, that he always understood, till then, that the good people of England very well knew that none but asses would stand still to be branded. . . . [A] gentleman proceeded, and assured the brander that the horses . . . were all of the English breed, and the far greater part of them had for their sire and were descended from a very remarkable horse, known by the name of Old Noll, who though he was not a showy beast, was firm, and had courage to the back bone, and might have been of great use, but that his master fell in love with a huge pair of French spurs, and contrary to all good advice, must needs mount Noll, with them upon his heels ; but unhappily the horse no sooner felt the spurs at his sides, but he gave his master such a fall as broke his neck ; upon which the breed were out of credit for a while, and be- ing sent hither, multiplied exceedingly. . . . Here the whole of our company gave three huzzas, ... in which I joined so heartily, that the good woman at my side gave me a hunch with her elbow, and asked me if I had the cholic or gripes, and so ended my vision. — Anonymous letter to the editor, Nov. 10, 1764. (From the file of the Gazette in the library of the R. I. Hist. Soc.) A Cure for the Spleen. A Tory View of the Revolution, Sharp [a parson] . Your servant squire Bumper, pray walk 5n; how do you do? Bumper [a justice]. In pretty good health, I thank you sir ; how is it with yourself and madam ? Sharp. We're moving about, tollerably well, for old folks. . . . (Enter to them Fillpot [an inn-keeper], Graveairs [a deacon], and Trim [a barber]). Sharp. Your servant gen- tlemen, pray sit down ; how do you do deacon ? Grave, I 372 APPENDIX. thank you revd. sir, this cough has not quite left me yet, — h — hugh — h — hugh — h — hugh — tho' thro 1 mercy, it is much better, h — hugh — h — hugh. Sharp. I'm glad to hear it. How do you do landlord? Fill. As well as I can these hard times sir. Sharp. Hard times ! Why surely youVe no reason to complain landlord. Fill. Why no sir, I don't complain; that is, on my own account — but then our public affairs, you know sir, we must think a little about them. Sharp. I believe if we mind every one his own business, and leave the affairs of the state to the conduct of wiser heads, we shall soon be convinced that we are a happy people. Trim. Excuse me there revd sir, saving your presence ; w r hy sir, if I was deny'd the privilege of my shop to canvass poli- ticks, . . . you may e'en take my razors, soap, combs and all, and set fire to my shop. . . . But now sir, if forty come in together, and all in the most feezing hurry; I have nothing to do but to souse plump into a descant upon the times, and in the snap of a finger every man is as patient and still as any blockhead in my shop — arrectis atiribus, they sit gaping, with solemn unmeaning phiz's ; . . . and then I rattle away upon grievances, opposition, rebellion and so on, only for the innocent purpose of supporting the credit of my shop. . . . For by the mother that bore me, ... I am ignorant of the essential difference . . . between a true whig and an honest tory. . . . Puff [a late representative, who has just come in]. Hem! he! hem! . . . Why, Mr. speaker! — I beg pardon — gentlemen, I mean — . . . but as I was saying — for him to say as this here — to wit — that there is no differ- ence between a whig and a tory — why what a dickens are we contending about, if so be as how this here was the case -a fine case truly — why has not Lord North and Lord HHsboro' and that George Greenville stript us of all our constitutional charter rights and privileges — the birth-right of Englishmen, which our pious fore-fathers purchased with their blood and treasure, when they came over into this waste howling wilderness. . . . Before Pd give up our just rights and privileges, Pd take my gun, and load and fire and pull trigger like the nation and fight up to the knees in blood. . . . Grave. ... As Mr. — h— hugh — Puff has very well observed, all our charter rights and privileges are torn from us and we are made slaves, and the Lord send us deliverance — h — hugh — h — hugh — h — hugh . Sharp. Don't you carry matters rather too far deacon? . . . Pray consider, don't you sit quietly under your own vine and under your REVOLUTIONARY LITERATURE. 373 own fig-tree ? Don't you enjoy full liberty of conscience in religious matters ? . . . Does any one meddle with your per- son or property ? Are you over-burthened with taxes ? . . . Turn your eyes to your brother Englishmen in Great-Britain — see with what taxes and duties they are burthened. . . . Puff. But pray revd sir, have the parliament any right to make laws for us ? [Sharp then enters into a long and plausi- ble argument to show that Parliament had always exercised an unquestioned right to regulate trade by laying duties upon imports, and that the new duties upon tea, etc., did not differ from the old duties except in the express declaration by Par- liament that they were levied for the purpose of raising rev- enue as well as for regulating trade. He thus concludes :] Sharp. . . . They don't consider that they are entering the lists with a power, which is more than a match for all the other powers of Europe ; they don't consider the horrors of a civil war. . . . Their [Congress's] resolves are nothing short of high treason ; their association is an open declaration of hostilities, partaking . . . equally of wickedness and folly. . . . Their addresses are a jargon of contradictions and absurdities. . . . Bump. Fiddle faddle, 'tis all stuff and nonsense ; redress of grievances is but the decoy set up to catch the ignorant and unwary. The leaders aim at an inde- pendency on Great-Britain, in order to become themselves the tyrants of the Colonies. . . . Trim. Well, I'm deter- min'd to drop my shop preachments. . . . Grave. I verily fear we are all wrong. . . . Puff. I profess, I'm of the same mind ; I begin to see things in a different light. . . . Sharp. Gentlemen I wish you all a very good night. — A Cure for the Spleen, pp. 3-10, 25-28, 32, ed. 1775. J. Hector St. John Crevecceur. A Snake-Story . As I was one day sitting solitary and pensive in my primi- tive arbour, ... I beheld two snakes of considerable length, the one pursuing the other with great celerity through a hemp stubble field. The aggressor was of the black kind, six feet long ; the fugitive was a water snake, nearly of equal dimen- sions. They soon met, and in the fury of their first encounter, they appeared in an instant firmly twisted together; and whilst their united tails beat the ground, they mutually tried with open jaws to lacerate each other. . . . But notwith- standing this appearance of mutual courage and fury, the 374 APPENDIX. water snake still seemed desirous of retreating toward the ^Jitch, its natural element. This was no sooner perceived by the keen-eyed black one, than twisting its tail twice round a stalk of hemp, and seizing its adversary by the throat, not by means of its jaws, but by twisting its own neck twice round that of the water snake, [it] pulled it back from the ditch. To prevent a defeat the latter took hold likewise of a stalk on the bank. . . . Their eyes seemed on fire, and ready to start out of their heads; at one time the conflict seemed decided ; the water snake bent itself into two great folds, and by that operation rendered the other more than commonly outstretched ; the next minute the new struggles of the black one gained an unexpected superiority, it acquired two great folds likewise, which necessarily extended the body of its adversary in proportion as it had contracted its own. . . . At last the stalk to which the black snake fastened, suddenly gave way, and . . . they both plunged into the ditch. . . . They soon re-appeared on the surface twisted together, as in their first onset ; but the black snake seemed to retain its wonted superiority, for its head was exactly fixed above that of the other, which it incessantly pressed down under the water, until it was stifled, and sunk. The victor ... re- turned on shore and disappeared. — Letters from an American Farmer, pp. 243-246, ed. 1782. Songs and Ballads of the American Revolution* The Liberty Song. 1 Come join hand in hand, brave Americans all, And rouse your bold hearts at fair Liberty's call; No tyrannous acts, shall suppress your just claim, Or stain with dishonor America's name. In freedom we're born, and in freedom we'll live; Our purses are ready, Steady, Friends, steady, Not as slaves, but as freemen our money we'll give. A Ballad of Nathan Hale. The breezes went steadily thro' the tall pines, A saying " oh ! hu-ush ! " a saying " oh ! hu-ush ! " As stilly stole by a bold legion of horse, For Hale in the bush, "for Hale in the bush. 1 By John Dickinson and Arthur Lee. The song, which has nine stanzas, was first published in The Boston Gazette, July 18, 1768, and became very popular. REVOLUTIONARY LITERATURE. 375 u Keep still ! " said the thrush as she nestled her young, In a nest by the road; in a nest by the road. " For the tyrants are near, and with them appear, What bodes us no good, what bodes us no good." . • . The guards of the camp, on that dark, dreary night, Had a murderous will; had a murderous will. They took him and bore him afar from the shore, To a hut on the hill; to a hut on the hill. . . . Five minutes were given, short moments, no more, For him to repent; for him to repent; He pray'd for his mother, he ask'd not another, To Heaven he went; to Heaven he went. Songs and Ballads of the American Revolution, pp. 37, 131-133, ed. by F. Moore, 1856. John Trumbull. A Toyshop of Coquettish Brains. First from the dust our sex began, But woman was refin'd from man; . . # Shall half your precepts tend the while Fair nature's lovely work to spoil, . . . And make their minds the receptacle ~i Of every thing that 's false and fickle, . . . - Where stands display'd with costly pains The toyshop of coquettish brains, And high-crown'd caps hang out the sign, And beaus as customers throng in; ... Where the light head and vacant brain Spoil all ideas they contain, As th' air pump kills in half a minute Each living thing you put within it. •— The Progress of Dulness, Part III., pp. 50, 51, ed. 1794* Witty Couplets. For men of sense will always prove The most forlorn of fools in love. — Ibid., p. 62. So once, in fear of Indian beating, Our grandsires bore their guns to meeting, . • • And look'd, in form, as all must grant, 376 APPENDIX. Like th' antient, true church militant ; Or fierce, like modern deep divines, Who fight with quills, like porcupines. — Ibid., p. 55. Tarring and Feathering a Tory. Forthwith the croud proceed to deck With halter'd noose M'Fingal's neck, . . • Then lifting high th' pond'rous jar, 7 Pour'd o'er his head the smoaking tar. . • • His flowing wig, as next the brim, First met and drank the sable stream; • • • From nose and chin's remotest end, The tarry icicles depend; Till all o'erspread, with colors gay He glitter'd to the western ray, Like sleet-bound trees in wintry skies, Or Lapland idol carv'd in ice. And now the feather-bag display'd, Is wav'd in triumph o'er his head, And spreads him o'er with feathers missive And down upon the tar adhesive : Not Maia's son, with wings for ears, Such plumes around his visage wears; Nor Milton's six wing'd angel gathers, Such superfluity of feathers. . . . Then on the two-wheel'd car of state, They rais'd our grand Duumvirate. . . . In front the martial music comes Of horns and fiddles, fifes and drums, With jingling sound of carriage bells, And treble creak of rusted wheels. . • • And at fit periods ev'ry throat Combined in universal shout, And hail'd great Liberty in chorus, Or bawl'd, Confusion to the Tories. — MFingal, Canto III., pp. 65, 66, ed. 178a Timothy Dwight. The Death of Irad. Again in ether rose the dreadful steel; Again it lighten'd, and again it fell; The Heathen's, vinging, leap'd from Irad's shield; The Youth's in fragments, treacherous, strew'd the field. Held by a chief, swift-leaping from the band, REVOLUTIONARY LITERATURE. 377 A second falchion touch'd his reaching hand, When — loveliest Youth ! why did thy buckler's bound Shield but thy breast? why not thy form surround? . . . From some base arm unseen, in covert flung, Through his white side a coward javelin sung. He fell — a groan sad-murmur'd round the host, Their joy, their glory, and their leader lost. — The Conquest of Canaan, VIII., 343-356, ed. 1785. Joel Barlow. Gory War. Columbus turn'd; when rolling to the shore Swells o'er the seas an undulating roar; Slow, dark, portentous, as the meteors sweep, And curtain black the illimitable deep, High stalks, from surge to surge, a demon Form, That howls thro heaven and breathes a billowing storm. His head is hung with clouds; his giant hand Flings a blue flame far flickering to the land; His blood-stain'd limbs drip carnage as he strides, And taint with gory grume the staggering tides; Like two red suns his quivering eyeballs glare, His mouth disgorges all the stores of war, Pikes, muskets, mortars, guns and globes of fire, And lighted bombs that fusing trails expire. Percht on his helmet, two twin sisters rode, The favorite offspring of the murderous god, Famine and Pestilence; whom whilom bore His wife, grim Discord, on Trinacria's shore; When first their Cyclop sons, from Etna's forge, Fill'd his foul magazine, his gaping gorge : Then earth convulsive groan'd, high shriek'd the air, And hell in gratulation call'd him War. — The Columbia^ V., 471-492, ed. 1807, The Hasty -Pudding. Where the huge heap lies center'd in the hall, The lamp suspended from the cheerful wall, Brown corn-fed nymphs, and strong hard-handed beaux, Alternate rang'd, extend in circling rows, Assume their seats, the solid mass attack; The dry husks rattle, and the corn-cobs crack; The song, the laugh, alternate notes resound, And the sweet cider trips in silence round. The laws of Husking ev'ry wight can tell; 37 8 APPENDIX. And sure no laws he ever keeps so well : For each red ear a general kiss he gains, With each smut ear she smuts the luckless swains; But when to some sweet maid a prize is cast, Red as her lips, and taper as her waist, She walks the round, and culls one favor'd beau Who leaps, the luscious tribute to bestow. ****** There is a choice in spoons. Tho' small appear The nice distinction, yet to me 'tis clear. The deep bowl'd Gallic spoon, contriv'd to scoop In ample draughts the thin diluted soup, Performs not well in those substantial things, Whose mass adhesive to the metal clings; Where the strong labial muscles must embrace The gentle curve, and sweep the hollow space. With ease to enter and discharge the freight, A bowl less concave but still more dilate, Becomes the pudding best. . . . Fear not to slaver; 'tis no deadly sin. Like the free Frenchman, from your joyous chin Suspend the ready napkin; or, like me, Poise with one hand your bowl upon your knee; Just in the zenith your wise head preject, Your full spoon, rising in a line direct, Bold as a bucket, heeds no drops that fall, The wide mouth'd bowl will surely* catch them all. — The Hasty- Pudding, Canto III., pp. 9-12, ed. 1796k Philip Freneau. The House of Night} O'er a dark field I held my dubious way Where Jack-a-lanthorn walk'd his lonely round, Beneath my feet substantial darkness lay, And screams were heard from the distemper'd ground. Nor looked I back, till to a far off wood Trembling with fear, my weary feet had sped — Dark was the night, but at the inchanted dome I saw the infernal windows flaming red. . . . Dim burnt the lamp, and now the phantom Death Gave his last groans in horror and despair — 1 In which Death is dying. REVOLUTIONARY LITERATURE. 379 u All hell demands me hence " — he said, and threw The red lamp hissing through the midnight air. •The House of Night, stanzas 109, 1 10, 117, in The Poems of Philip Freneau, ed. 1786. The Wild Honey Suckle. 1 Fair flower, that dost so comely grow, Hid in this silent, dull retreat, Untouch'd thy honey'd blossoms blow, Unseen thy little branches greet : No roving foot shall find thee here, No busy hand provoke a tear. By Nature's self in white array'd, She bade thee shun the vulgar eye, And planted here the guardian shade, And sent soft waters murmuring by; Thus quietly thy summer goes, Thy days declining to repose. Smit with those charms, that must decay, I grieve to see your future doom; They died — nor were those flowers less gay, The flowers that did in Eden bloom; Unpitying frosts, and Autumn's power Shall leave no vestige of this flower. From morning suns and evening dews At first thy little being came : If nothing once, you nothing lose, For when you die you are the same; The space between, is but an hour, The frail duration of a flower. •Poems by Philip Freneau, ed. 1795. (The text in the 1 788 edition is inferior.) Henry H. Brackenridge. Warren's Speech at Bunker HilL To arms, brave countrymen, for see the foe, Comes forth to battle, and would seem to try, Once more, their fortune in decisive war. ... . . . Our noble ancestors, Out-brav'd the tempests, of the hoary deep, l The entire poem is given. 380 APPENDIX. And on these hills, uncultivate and wild, Sought an asylum, from despotic sway; A short asylum, fur that envious power, With persecution dire, still follows us. . . . Remember March, brave countrymen, that day, When Boston's streets ran blood. Think on that day, And let the memory, to revenge, stir up, The temper of your souls. . . . Let every arm, This day be active in fair freedom's cause, And shower down, from the hill, like Heav'n in wrath, Full store of lightning, and fierce iron hail, To blast the adversary. — The Battle of Bunker's Hill, V., i., ed. 1776 Benjamin Franklin. Franklirfs First Entry i?ito Philadelphia. I have been the more particular in this description of my journey, and shall be so of my first entry into that city, that you may in your mind compare such unlikely beginnings, with the figure I have since made there. I was in my work- ing dress, my best clothes coming round by sea. I was dirty, from my being so long in the boat : my pockets were stuffed out with shirts and stockings, and I knew no one, nor where to look for lodging. Fatigued with walking, row- ing, and the want of sleep, I was very hungry ; and my whole stock of cash consisted in a single dollar, and about a shilling in copper coin, which I gave to the boatmen for my passage. At first they refused it, on account of my having rowed, but I insisted on their taking it. Man is sometimes more gener- ous when he has little money, than when he has plenty ; per- haps to prevent his being thought to have but little. I walked towards the top of the street, gazing about still in Market-street, where I met a boy with bread. I had often made a meal of dry bread, and inquiring where he had bought it, I went immediately to the baker's he directed me to. I asked for biscuits, meaning such as we had at Boston : that sort, it seems, was not made in Philadelphia. I then asked for a three-penny loaf, and was told they had none. Not knowing the different prices, nor the names of the differ- ent sorts of bread, I told him to give me three-penny worth of any sort. He gave me accordingly three great puffy rolls. I was surprised at the quantity, but took it, and having no NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 381 room in my pockets, walked off with a roll under each arm, and eating the other. Thus I went up Market-street as far as Fourth-street, passing by the door of Mr. Read, my future wife^ father ; when she, standing at the door, saw me, and thought I made, as I certainly did, a most awkward ridiculous appearance. Then I turned and went down Chestnut-street and part of Walnut-street, eating my roll all the way, and coming round found myself again at Market-street wharf, near the boat I came in, to which I went for a draught of the river water ; and being filled with one of my rolls gave the other two to a woman and her child that came down the river in the boat with us, and were waiting to go farther. Thus refreshed, I walked again up the street, which by this time had many clean-dressed people in it, who were all walking the same way : I joined them and thereby was led into the great meeting house of the Quakers near the market. I sat down among them, and after looking round awhile, and hearing nothing said, being very drowsy, through labor and want of rest the preceding night, I fell fast asleep, and con- tinued so till the meeting broke up, when some one was kind enough to rouse me. This therefore was the first house I was in, or slept in, in Philadelphia. — From The Autobiog- raphy, ed. 1 81 7. Washington Irving. Sleepy Hollow. In the bosom of one of those spacious coves which indent the eastern shore of the Hudson, at that broad expansion of the river denominated by the ancient Dutch navigators the Tappan Zee, and where they always prudently shortened sail and implored the protection of St. Nicholas when they crossed, there lies a small market-town or rural port, which by some is called Greensburgh, but which is more generally and properly known by the name of Tarry Town. This name was given, we are told, in former days, by the good housewives of the adjacent country, from the inveterate pro- pensity of their husbands to linger about the village tavern on market days. Be that as it may, I do not vouch for the fact, but merely advert to it, for the sake of being precise and authentic. Not far from this village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little valley or rather lap of land among high hills, which is one of the quietest places in the whole world. 382 APPENDIX. A small brook glides through it, with just murmur enough to lull one to repose ; and the occasional whistle of a quail or tapping of a woodpecker is almost the only sound that ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity. I recollect that, when a stripling, my first exploit in squirrel- shooting was in a grove of tall walnut-trees that shades one side of the valley. I had wandered into it at noontime, when all nature is peculiarly quiet, and was startled by the roar of my own gun, as it broke the Sabbath stillness around and was prolonged and reverberated by the angry echoes. If ever I should wish for a retreat whither I might steal from the world and its distractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of a troubled life, I know of none more promising than this little valley. From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of its inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this sequestered glen has long been known by the name of Sleepv Hollow, and its rustic lads are called the Sleepy Hollow Boys throughout all the neigh- boring country. A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere. Some say that the place was bewitched by a high German doctor, during the early days of the settlement ; others, that an old Indian chief, the prophet or wizard of his tribe, held his pow- wows there before the country was discovered by Master Hendrick Hudson. Certain it is, the place still continues under the sway of some witching power, that holds a spell over the minds of the good people, causing them to walk in a continual reverie. They are given to all kinds of marvelous beliefs ; are subject to trances and visions : and frequently see strange sights, and hear music and voices in the air. The whole neighborhood abounds with local tales, haunted spots, and twilight superstitions ; stars shoot and meteors glare oftener across the valley than in any other part of the country, and the nightmare, with her whole nine-fold, seems to make it the favorite scene of her gambols. The dominant spirit, however, that haunts this enchanted region, and seems to be commander-in-chief of all the powers of the air, is the apparition of a figure on horseback without a head. It is said by some to be the ghost of a Hessian trooper, whose head had been carried away by a cannon-ball, in some nameless battle during the Revolutionary War, and who is ever and anon seen by the country folk, hurrying along in the gloom of night, as if on the wings of the wind. NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 383 His haunts are not confined to the valley, but extend at times to the adjacent roads, and especially to the vicinity of a church at no great distance. Indeed, certain of the most authentic historians of those parts, who have been careful in collecting and collating the floating facts concerning this spectre, allege that the body of the trooper having been buried in the churchyard, the ghost rides forth to the scene of battle in nightly quest of his head; and that the rushing speed with which he sometimes passes along the Hollow, like a midnight blast, is owing to his being belated and in a hurry to get back to the churchyard before daybreak. Such is the general purport of this legendary superstition, which has furnished materials for many a wild story in that region of shadows ; and the spectre is known at all the country firesides by the name of the Headless Horseman of Sleepy Hollow. It is remarkable that the visionary propensity I have men- tioned is not confined to the native inhabitants of the valley, but is unconsciously imbibed by every one who resides there for a time. However wide awake they may have been before they entered that sleepy region, they are sure, in a little time, to inhale the witching influence of the air, and begin to grow imaginative, to dream dreams, and see apparitions. I mention this peaceful spot with all possible laud ; for it is in such little retired Dutch valleys, found here and there embosomed in the great State of New York, that population, manners, and customs remain fixed ; while the great torrent of migration and improvement, which is making such inces- sant changes in other parts of this restless country, sweeps by them unobserved. They are like those little nooks of still water which border a rapid stream ; where we may see the straw and bubble riding quietly at anchor, or slowly re- volving in their mimic harbor, undisturbed by the rush of the passing current. Though many years have elapsed since I trod the drowsy shades of Sleepy Hollow, yet I question whether I should not still find the same trees and the same families vegetating in its sheltered bosom. — From The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, in The Sketch Book. James Fenimore Cooper. The Death of Uncas. The Huron sprang like a tiger on his offending and already retreating countryman, but the falling form of Uncas separated 384 APPENDIX. the unnatural combatants. Diverted from his object by this interruption, and maddened by the murder he had just wit- nessed, Magua buried his weapon in the back of the prostrate Delaware, uttering an unearthly shout as he committed the dastardly deed. But Uncas arose from the blow, as the wounded panther turns upon his foe, and struck the murderer of Cora to his feet by an effort in which the last of his failing strength was expended. Then, with a stern and steady look, he turned to Le Subtil, and indicated, by the expression of his eye, all that he would do, had not the power deserted him. The latter seized the nerveless arm of the unresisting Dela- ware, and passed his knife into his bosom three several times, before his victim, still keeping his gaze riveted on his enemy with a look of inextinguishable scorn, fell dead at his feet. "Mercy! mercy! Huron! 11 cried Heyward from above, in tones nearly choked by horror; "give mercy, and thou shalt receive it! " Whirling the bloody knife up at the imploring youth, the victorious Magua uttered a cry so fierce, so wild, and yet so joyous, that it conveyed the sounds of savage triumph to the ears of those who fought in the valley, a thousand feet below. He was answered by a burst from the lips of the scout, whose tall person was just then seen moving swiftly towards him, along those dangerous crags, with steps as bold and reckless as if he possessed the power to move in air. But when the hunter reached the scene of the ruthless massacre, the ledge was tenanted only by the dead. His keen eye took a single look at the victims, and then shot its glances over the difficulties of the ascent in his front. A form stood at the brow of the mountain, on the very edge of the giddy height, with uplifted arms, in an awful attitude of menace. Without stopping to consider his person, the rifle of Hawkeye was raised ; but a rock, which fell on the head of one of the fugitives below, exposed the indignant and glowing countenance of the honest Gamut. Then Magua issued from a crevice, and stepping with calm indifference over the body of the last of his associates, he leaped a wide fissure, and ascended the rocks at a point where the arm of David could not reach him. A single bound would carry him to the brow of the precipice, and assure his safety. Before taking the leap, however, the Huron paused, and shaking his hand at the scout, he shouted — "The pale-faces are dogs! the Delawares women! Magua leaves them on the rocks, for the crows! " NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 385 Laughing hoarsely, he made a desperate leap, and fell short of his mark, though his hands grasped a shrub on the verge of the height. The form of Hawkeye had crouched like a beast about to take its spring, and his frame trembled so violently with eagerness that the muzzle of the half-raised rifle played like a leaf fluttering in the wind. Without exhausting himself with fruitless efforts, the cunning Magua suffered his body to drop to the length of his arms, and found a fragment for his feet to rest on. Then summoning all his powers, he renewed the attempt, and so far succeeded as to draw his knees on the edge of the mountain. It was now, when the body of his enemy was most collected together, that the agitated weapon of the scout was drawn to his shoulder. The surrounding rocks themselves were not steadier than the piece became for the single instant that it poured out its contents. The arms of the Huron relaxed, and his body fell back a little, while his knees still kept their position. Turning a relentless look on his enemy, he shook a hand in grim defiance. But his hold loosened, and his dark person was seen cutting the air with his head down- wards, for a fleeting instant, until it glided past the fringe of shrubbery which clung to the mountains, in its rapid flight to destruction. — From The Last of the Mohicans, Chapter xxxii. William Cullen Bryant. Thanatopsis . Yet a few days, and thee The all-beholding sun, shall see no more, In all his course; nor yet in the cold ground, Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, Nor in th' embrace of ocean shall exist Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim Thy growth, to be resolv'd to earth again; And, lost each human trace, surrend'ring up Thine individual being, shalt thou go To mix forever with the elements, To be a brother to th' insensible rock And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak Shall send his roots abroad and pierce thy mould. Yet not to thy eternal resting place Shalt thou retire alone — nor couldst thou wish Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down 386 APPENDIX. With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings The powerful of the earth — the wise, the good, Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, All in one mighty sepulchre. — The hills, Rock-ribb'd and ancient as the sun, — the vales Stretching in pensive quietness between; The venerable woods — the floods that move In majesty, — and the complaining brooks, That wind among the meads, and make them green, Are but the solemn decorations all, Of the great tomb of man. — The golden sun, The planets, all the infinite host of heaven Are glowing on the sad abodes of death, Through the still lapse of ages. All that tread The globe are but a handful to the tribes That slumber in its bosom — Take the wings Of morning — and the Borean desert pierce — Or lose thyself in the continuous woods That veil Oregan, where he hears no sound Save his own dashings — yet — the dead are there, And millions in those solitudes, since first The flight of years began, have laid them down In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone. — So shalt thou rest — and what if thou shalt fall Unnoticed by the living — and no friend Take note of thy departure? Thousands more Will share thy destiny. — The tittering world Dance to the grave. The busy brood of care Plod on, and each one chases as before His favourite phantom. — Yet all these shall leave Their mirth and their employments, and shall come And make their bed with thee ! — First form of the poem, in The North American Review^ September, 1817. To a Waterfowl. 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 ? Vainly the fowler's eye Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, As, darkly seen against the crimson sky, Thy figure tloats along. NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 387 Seek'st thou the plashy brink Of weedy lake or marge of river wide, Or where the rocking billows rise and sink On the chafed ocean-side? There is a Power whose care Teaches thy way along that pathless coast — » The desert and illimitable air, — Lone wandering but not lost. All day thy wings have fanned, At that far height, the cold thin atmosphere, Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, Though the dark night is near. And soon that toil shall end : Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, And scream among thy fellows; reeds shall bend, Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. Thou'rt gone; the abyss of heaven Hath swallowed up thy form : yet on my heart Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given And shall not soon depart. 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. Edgar Allan Poe. Shadow — A Parable. Ye who read are still among the living : but I who write shall have long since gone my way into the region of shadows. For indeed strange things shall happen, and secret things be known, and many centuries shall pass away, ere these memo- rials be seen of men. And, when seen, there will be some to disbelieve, and some to doubt, and yet a few who will find much to ponder upon in the characters here graven with a stylus of iron. The year had been a year of terror, and of feelings more intense than terror for which there is no name upon the earth. 388 APPENDIX. For many prodigies and signs had taken place, and far and wide, over sea and land, the black wings of the Pestilence were spread abroad. To those, nevertheless, cunning in the stars, it was not unknown that the heavens wore an aspect of ill ; and to me, the Greek Oinos, among others, it was evi- dent that now had arrived the alternation of that seven hundred and ninety-fourth year when, at the entrance of Aries, the planet Jupiter is conjoined with the red ring of the terrible Saturnus. The peculiar spirit of the skies, if I mistake not greatly, made itself manifest, not only in the physical orb of the earth, but in the souls, imaginations, and meditations of mankind. Over some flasks of the red Chian wine, within the walls of a noble hall in a dim city called Ptolemais, we sat, at night, a company of seven. And to our chamber there was no en- trance save by a lofty door of brass : and the door was fash- ioned by the artizan Corinnos, and, being of rare workmanship, was fastened from within. Black draperies, likewise, in the gloomy room, shut out from our view the moon, the lurid stars, and the peopleless streets — but the boding and the memory of Evil, they would not be so excluded. There were things around us and about of which I can render no distinct account — things material and spiritual — heaviness in the atmosphere — a sense of suffocation — anxiety — and, above all, that ter- rible state of existence which the nervous experience when the senses are keenly living and awake, and meanwhile the powers of thought lie dormant. A dead weight hung upon us. It hung upon our limbs — upon the household furniture — upon the goblets from which we drank ; and all things were de- pressed, and borne down thereby — all things save only the flames of the seven iron lamps which illumined our revel. Uprearing themselves in tall slender lines of light, they thus remained burning all pallid and motionless ; and in the mirror which their lustre formed upon the round table of ebony at which we sat, each of us there assembled beheld the pallor of his own countenance, and the unquiet glare in the down- cast eyes of his companions. Yet we laughed and were merry in our proper way — which was hysterical ; and sang the songs of Anacreon — which are madness; and drank deeply — al- though the purple wine reminded us of blood. For there was yet another tenant of our chamber in the person of young Zoilus. Dead, and at full length he lay, enshrouded; — the genius and the demon of the scene. Alas! he bore no portion in our mirth, save that his countenance, distorted with the NINETNENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 389 plague, and his eyes in which Death had but half extinguished the fire of the pestilence, seemed to take such interest in our merriment as the dead may haply take in the merriment of those who are to die. But although I, Oinos, felt that the eyes of the departed were upon me, still I forced myself not to perceive the bitterness of their expression, and, gazing down steadily into the depths of the ebony mirror, sang with a loud and sonorous voice the songs of the son of Teios. But gradu- ally my songs they ceased, and their echoes, rolling afar off among the sable draperies of the chamber, became weak, and undistinguishable, and so faded away. And lo ! from among those sable draperies where the sounds of the song departed, there came forth a dark and undefined shadow — a shadow such as the moon, when low in heaven, might fashion from the figure of a man : but it was the shadow neither of man, nor of God, nor of any familiar thing. And, quivering awhile among the draperies of the room, it at length rested in full view upon the surface of the door of brass. But the shadow was vague, and formless, and indefinite, and was the shadow neither of man, nor of God — neither God of Greece, nor God of Chal- daea, nor any Egyptian God. And the shadow rested upon the brazen doorway, and under the arch of the entablature of the door, and moved not, nor spoke any word, but there became stationary and remained. And the door whereupon the shadow rested was, if I remember aright, over against the feet of the young Zoilus enshrouded. But we, the seven there assembled, having seen the shadow as it came out from among the dra- peries, dared not steadily behold it, but cast down our eyes, and gazed continually into the depths of the mirror of ebony. And at length I, Oinos, speaking some low words, demanded of the shadow its dwelling and its appellation. And the shadow answered, " I am Shadow, and my dwelling is near to the Catacombs of Ptolemais, and hard by those dim plains of He- lusion which border upon the foul Charonian canal.'" And then did we, the seven, start from our seats in horror, and stand trembling, and shuddering, and aghast : for the tones in the voice of the shadow were not the tones of any one being, but of a multitude of beings, and, varying in their cadences from syllable to syllable, fell duskily upon our ears in the well remembered and familiar accents of many thousand departed friends. 390 APPENDIX. To Helen. Helen, thy beauty is to me Like those Nicean barks of yore, That gently, o'er a perfumed sea, The weary, way-worn wanderer bore To his own native shore. On desperate seas long wont to roam, Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face, Thy Naiad airs have brought me home To the glory that was Greece And the grandeur that was Rome. Lo, in yon brilliant window-niche How statue-like I see thee stand, The agate lamp within thy hand ! Ah, Psyche, from the regions which Are Holy Land ! The Conqueror Worm. Lo, 'tis a gala night Within the lonesome latter years; An angel throng, bewinged, bedight In veils, and drowned in tears, Sit in a theater, to see A play of hopes and fears, While the orchestra breathes fitfully The music of the spheres. Mimes, in the form of God on high, Mutter and mumble low, And hither and thither fly — Mere puppets they, who come and go At bidding of vast formless things That shift the scenery to and fro, Flapping from out their Condor wings Invisible Wo! That motley drama, oh, be sure It shall not be forgot ! With its Phantom chased for evermore By a crowd that seize it not, Through a circle that ever returneth in To the self-same spot, And much of Madness, and more of Sin, And Horror the soul of the plot. NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 391 But see, amid the mimic rout A crawling shape intrude ! A blood-red thing that writhes from out The scenic solitude ! It writhes ! it writhes ! with mortal pangs The mimes become its food, And seraphs sob at vermin fangs In human gore imbued. 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; While the angels, all pallid and wan, Uprising, unveiling, affirm That the play is the tragedy " Man," And its hero the Conqueror Worm. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. The Day is Done. The day is done, and the darkness Falls from the wings of Night, As a feather is wafted downward From an eagle in his flight. I see the lights of the village Gleam through the rain and .the mist; And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me, That my soul cannot resist : A feeling of sadness and longing, That is not akin to pain, And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles the rain. Come, read to me some poem, Some simple and heartfelt lay, That shall soothe this restless feeling, And banish the thoughts of day. Not from the grand old masters, Not from the bards sublime, Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time; 392 APPENDIX. For, like strains of martial music, Their mighty thoughts suggest Life's endless toil and endeavor, And to-night I long for rest. Read from some humbler poet, Whose songs gushed from his heart, As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start; Who, through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies. Such songs have power to quiet The restless pulse of care, And come like the benediction That follows after prayer. Then read from the treasured volume The poem of thy choice, And lend to the rhyme of the poet The beauty of thy voice. And the night shall be filled with music, And the cares that infest the day Shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, And as silently steal away. The Old Cl§ck o?i the Stairs. Somewhat back from the village street Stands the old-fashioned country-seat. Across its antique portico Tall poplar-trees their shadows throw; And from its station in the hall An ancient timepiece says to all " Forever — never ! Never — forever ! " Halfway up the stairs it stands, And points and beckons with its hands NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 393 From its case of massive oak, Like a monk, who, under his cloak, Crosses himself, and sighs, alas, With sorrowful voice to all who pass, " Forever — never ! Never — forever ! " By day its voice is low and light; But in the silent dead of night, Distinct as a passing footstep's fall, It echoes along the vacant hall, Along the ceiling, along the floor, And seems to say at each chamber door, " Forever — never ! Never — forever ! " Through days of sorrow and of mirth, Through days of death and days of birth, Through every swift vicissitude Of changeful time, unchanged it has stood, And as if, like God, it all things saw, It calmly repeats those words of awe, " Forever — never ! Never — forever ! " In that mansion used to be Free-hearted Hospitality : His great fires up the chimney roared, The stranger feasted at his board; But, like the skeleton at the feast, That warning timepiece never ceased, u Forever — never ! Never — forever ! " There groups of merry children played, There youth and maidens dreaming strayed: O precious hours ! O golden prime ! And affluence of love and time ! Even as a miser counts his gold, Those hours the ancient timepiece told, 11 P'orever — never ! Never — forever ! " From that chamber, clothed in white, The bride came forth on her wedding night. 394 APPENDIX. There, in that silent room below, The dead lay in his shrowd of snow; And in the hush that followed the prayer, Was heard the old clock on the stair, " Forever — never ! Never — forever!" All are scattered now and fled, Some are married, some are dead; And when I ask, with throbs of pain, "Ah, when shall they all meet again?" As in the days long since gone by, The ancient timepiece makes reply, " Forever — never ! Never — forever ! " Never here, forever there, Where all parting, pain, and care, And death, and time shall disappear, — Forever there, but never here ! The horologe of Eternity Sayeth this incessantly, " Forever — never ! Never — forever ! " The Acadians. In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of Minas, Distant, secluded, still, the little village of Grand-Pre Lay in the fruitful valley. Vast meadows stretched to the eastward, Giving the village its name, and pasture to flocks without number. Dikes, that the hands of the farmers had raised with labor incessant, Shut out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood-gates Opened, and welcomed the sea to wander at will o'er the meadows. West and south there were fields of flax, and orchards and cornfields Spreading afar and unfenced o'er the plain; and away to the north- ward Blomidon rose and the forests old, and aloft on the mountains Sea-fogs pitched their tents, and mists from the mighty Atlantic Looked on the happy valley but ne'er from their station descended. There, in the midst of its farms, reposed the Acadian village. Strongly built were the houses, with frames of oak and of chestnut, Such as the peasants of Normandy built in the reign of the Henries. Thatched were the roofs, with dormer-windows; and gables pro- jecting NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 395 Over the basement below protected and shaded the door-way. There in the tranquil evenings of summer, when brightly the sunset Lighted the village street and gilded the vanes on the chimneys, Matrons and maidens sat, in snow-white caps and in kirtles Scarlet and blue and green, with distaffs spinning the golden Flax for the gossiping looms, whose noisy shuttles within doors Mingled their sound with the whir of the wheels and the songs of the maidens. Solemnly down the street came the parish priest, and the children Paused in their play to kiss the hand he extended to bless them : Reverend walked he among them; and up rose matrons and maidens, Hailing his slow approach with words of affectionate welcome. Then came the laborers home from the field; and serenely the sun sank Down to his rest, and twilight prevailed. Anon from the belfry Softly the Angelus sounded, and over the roofs of the village Columns of pale blue smoke, like clouds of incense ascending, Rose from a hundred hearths, the homes of peace and contentment. Thus dwelt together in love these simple Acadian farmers, Dwelt in the love of God and of man. Alike were they free from Fear, that reigns with the tyrant, and envy, the vice of republics : Neither locks had they to their doors nor bars to their windows, But their dwellings were open as day and the hearts of the owners; There the richest was poor, and the poorest lived in abundance. — Evangeline, Part the First, 11. 1-38. Ralph Waldo Emerson. Self- Reliance. I read the other day some verses written by an eminent painter which were original and not conventional. The soul always hears an admonition in such lines, let the subject be what it may. The sentiment they instil is of more value than any thought they may contain. To believe your own thought, to believe that what is true for you in your private heart is true for all men, — that is genius. Speak your latent convic- tion, and it shall be the universal sense ; for the inmost in due time becomes the outmost, — and our first thought is rendered back to us by the trumpets of the Last Judgment. Familiar as the voice of the mind is to each, the highest merit we as- cribe to Moses, Plato, and Milton is, that they set at naught books and traditions, and spoke not what men but what they thought. A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across his mind from within, more than 396 APPENDIX. the lustre of the firmament of bards and sages. Yet he dis- misses without notice his thought, because it is his. In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts : they come back to us with a certain alienated majesty. Great works of art have no more affecting lesson for us than this. They teach us to abide by our spontaneous impression with good-humored inflexibility then most when the whole cry of voices is on the other side. Else, to-morrow a stranger will say with masterly good sense precisely what we have thought and felt all the time, and we shall be forced to take with shame our own opinion from another. There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance ; that imitation is suicide ; that he must take himself, for better, for worse, as his portion ; that though the wide universe is full of good, no kernel of nourishing corn can come to him but through his toil bestowed on that plot of ground which is given to him to till. The power which resides in him is new in nature, and none but he knows what that is which he can do, nor does he know until he has tried. Not for nothing one face, one char- acter, one fact, makes much impression on him, and another none. This sculpture in the memory is not without preestab- lished harmony. The eye was placed where one ray should fall, that it might testify of that particular ray. We but half express ourselves, and are ashamed of that divine idea which each of us represents. It may be safely trusted as propor- tionate and of good issues, so it be faithfully imparted, but God will not have his work made manifest by cowards. A man is relieved and gay when he has put his heart into his work and done his best ; but what he has said or done other- wise, shall give him no peace. It is a deliverance which does not deliver. In the attempt his genius deserts him ; no muse befriends ; no invention, no hope. Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string. Accept the place the divine providence has found for you, the society of your contemporaries, the connection of events. Great men have always done so, and confided themselves childlike to the genius of their age, betraying their perception that the absolutely trustworthy was seated at their heart, working through their hands, predominating in all their being. And we are now men, and must accept in the highest mind the same transcendent destiny ; and not minors and invalids in a protected corner, not cowards fleeing before a revolution, but guides, redeemers, and benefactors, obeying NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 397 the Almighty effort, and advancing on Chaos and the Dark. — From Self-Reliance, in Essays, First Series, ed. 1850. Nature. There are days which occur in this climate, at almost any season of the year, wherein the world reaches its perfection, when the air, the heavenly bodies, and the earth, make a har- mony, as if nature would indulge her offspring ; when, in these bleak upper sides of the pla.net, nothing is to desire that we have heard of the happiest latitudes, and we bask in the shining hours of Florida and Cuba ; when every thing that has life gives sign of satisfaction, and the cattle that lie on the ground seem to have great and tranquil thoughts. These halcyons may be looked for with a little more assurance in that pure October weather, which we distinguish by the name of the Indian summer. The day, immeasurably long, sleeps over the broad hills and warm wide fields. To have lived through all its sunny hours, seems longevity enough. The solitary places do not seem quite lonely. At the gates of the forest, the surprised man of the world is forced to leave his city estimates of great and small, wise and foolish. The knapsack of custom falls off his back with the first step he makes into these precincts. Here is sanctity which shames our religions, and reality which discredits our heroes. Here we find nature to be the circumstance which dwarfs every other circumstance, and judges like a god all men that come to her. We have crept out of our close and crowded houses into the night and morning, and we see what majestic beauties daily wrap us in their bosom. How willingly we would escape the barriers which render them comparatively impotent, escape the sophistication and second thought, and suffer nature to intrance us. The tempered light of the woods is like a perpetual morning, and is stimulating and heroic. The anciently reported spells of these places creep on us. The stems of pines, hemlocks, and oaks, almost gleam like iron on the excited eye. The incommunicable trees begin to persuade us to live with them, and quit our life of solemn trifles. Here no history, or church, or state, is interpolated on the divine sky and the immortal year. How easily we might walk onward into the opening landscape, absorbed by new pictures, and by thoughts fast succeeding each other, until by degrees the recollection of home was crowded out of the mind, all memory obliterated by the 398 APPENDIX. tyranny of the present, and we were led in triumph by nature. — From Nature, in Essays, Second Series, ed. 1857. The Problem. I like a church, I like a cowl, I love a prophet of the soul, And on my heart monastic aisles Fall like sweet strains or pensive smiles; Yet not for all his faith can see, Would I that cowled churchman be. Why should the vest on him allure, Which I could not on me endure? Not from vain or shallow thought His awful Jove young Phidias brought; Never from lips of cunning fell The thrilling Delphic oracle; Out from the heart of nature rolled The burdens of the Bible old; The litanies of nations came, Like the volcano's tongue of flame, Up from the burning core below, The canticles of love and woe. The hand that rounded Peter's dome, And groined the aisles of Christian Rome, Wrought in a sad sincerity : Himself from God he could not free; He builded better than he knew: The conscious stone to beauty grew. Know'st thou what wove yon woodbird's nest Of leaves and feathers from her breast? Or how the fish outbuilt her shell, Painting with morn each annual cell? Or how the sacred pine-tree adds To her old leaves new myriads? Such and so grew these holy piles, Whilst love and terror laid the tiles. Earth proudly wears the Parthenon As the best gem upon her zone; And Morning opes with haste her lids To gaze upon the Pyramids; * O'er England's abbeys bends the sky As on its friends with kindred eye : For out of Thouget's interior sphere These wonders rose to upper air; And Nature gladly gave them place, Adopted them into her race, NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 399 And granted them an equal date With Andes and with Ararat. These temples grew as grows the grass; Art might obey but not surpass. The passive Master lent his hand To the vast soul that o'er him planned, And the same power that reared the shrine Bestrode the tribes that knelt within. Ever the fiery Pentecost Girds with one flame the countless host, Trances the heart through chanting choirs 9 And through the priest the mind inspires. The word unto the prophet spoken Was writ on tables yet unbroken; The word by seers or sibyls told, In groves of oak or fanes of gold, Still floats upon the morning wind, Still whispers to the willing mind : One accent of the Holy Ghost The heedless world hath never lost, I know what say the fathers wise; The Book itself before me lies : Old Chrysostom, best Augustine, And he who blent both in his line, The younger Golden Lips or mines, Taylor, the Shakespeare of divines; His words are music in my ear, I see his cowled portrait dear, And yet, for all his faith could see, I would not the good bishop be. Days, Daughters of Time, the hypocritic Days, Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes, And marching single in an endless file, Bring diadems and fagots in their hands. To each they offer gifts after his will : Bread, kingdoms, stars, and sky that holds them all. I, in my pleached garden, watched the pomp, Forgot my morning wishes, hastily Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day Turned and departed silent. I, too late, Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn. — Ed. 1857. 4 oo APPENDIX. Voluntaries. In an age of fops and t Wanting wisdom, void of right, shall nerve heroic boys To hazard all in Freedom's fight — sharply off their jolly games, ake their comrades gay, And quit proud homes and youthful dames I famine, toil, and frs Yet on the nimble air benign Speed nimbler messages, That waft the breath of grace divine To hearts in sloth and ease : So nigh is grandeur to our dust, to man, When Duty whispers low, Thou must, The youth replies, / can. — Voluntaries, Section iii, ed. 1867. Henry D. Thoreau. An Abode in the Woods. When first I took up my abode in the woods, that is. began to spend my nights as well as days there, which, by accident, was on Independence day, or the fourth of July. 1845. my house was not finished for winter, but was merely a defence against the rain, without plastering or chimney, the walls be- ing of rough weather-stained boards, with wide chinks, which made it cool at night. The upright white hewn studs and freshly planed door and window casings gave it a clean and airy look, especially in the morning, when its timbers were saturated with dew, so that I fancied that by noon some sweet gum would exude from them. To my imagination it retained throughout the day more or less of this auroral character, reminding me of a certain house on a mountain which I had visited the year before. This was an airy and unplastered cabin, fit to entertain a travelling god, and where a goddess might trail her garments. The winds which passed over my dwelling were such as sweep over the ridges of mountains, bearing the broken strains, or celestial parts only, of terrestrial music. The morning wind forever blows, the poem of crea- ;s uninterrupted; but few are the ears that hear it. Olympus is but the outside of the earth everywhere. The only house I had been the owner of before, if I except NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 401 a boat, was a tent, which I used occasionally when making excursions in the summer, and this is still rolled up in my garret ; but the boat, after passing from hand to hand, has gone down the stream of time. With this more substantial shelter about me, I had made some progress toward settling in the world. This frame, so slightly clad, was a sort of crys- tallization around me, and reacted on the builder. It was suggestive somewhat as a picture in outlines. I did not need to go out doors to take the air, for the atmosphere within had lost none of its freshness. It was not so much within doors as behind a door where I sat, even in the rainiest weather. The Harivansa says, " An abode without birds is like a meat without seasoning.' 1 Such was not my abode, for I found myself suddenly neighbor to the birds ; not by having impris- oned one, but having caged myself near them. I was not only nearer to some of those which commonly frequent the garden and the orchard, but to those wilder and more thrilling song- sters of the forest which never, or rarely, serenade a villager, — the wood-thrush, the veery, the scarlet tanager, the field- sparrow, the whippoorwill, and many others. I was seated by the shore of a small pond, about a mile and a half south of the village of Concord and somewhat higher than it, in the midst of an extensive wood between that town and Lincoln, and about two miles south of that our only field known to fame, Concord Battle Ground ; but I was so low in the woods that the opposite shore, half a mile off, like the rest, covered with wood, was my most distant horizon. For the first week, whenever I looked out on the pond it impressed me like a tarn high up on the side of a mountain, its bottom far above the surface of other lakes, and, as the sun arose, I saw it throwing off its nightly clothing of mist, and here and there, by degrees, its soft ripples or its smooth reflecting sur- face was revealed, while the mists, like ghosts, were stealthily withdrawing in every direction into the woods, as at the break- ing up of some nocturnal conventicle. The very dew seemed to hang upon the trees later into the day than usual, as on the sides of mountains. — From Walden, Section ii, ed. 1857. Nathaniel Hawthorne. The Old Manse. Between two tall gateposts of rough-hewn stone (the gate itself having fallen from its hinges at some unknown epoch) we beheld the gray front of the old parsonage terminating the 4 02 APPENDIX. vista of an avenue of black ash-trees. It was now a twelve- month since the funeral procession of the venerable clergy- man, its last inhabitant, had turned from that gateway towards the village burying-ground. The wheel-track leading to the door, as well as the whole breadth of the avenue, was almost overgrown with grass, affording dainty mouthfuls to two or three vagrant cows and an old white horse who had his own living to pick up along the roadside. The glimmering shadows that lay half asleep between the door of the house and the public highway were a kind of spiritual medium, seen through which the edifice had not quite the aspect of belonging to the material world. Certainly it had little in common with those ordinary abodes which stand so imminent upon the road that every passer-by can thrust his head, as it were, into the do- mestic circle. From these quiet windows the figures of pass- ing travellers looked too remote and dim to disturb the sense of privacy. In its near retirement and accessible seclusion it was the very spot for the residence of a clergyman, — a man not estranged from human life, yet enveloped in the midst of it with a veil woven of intermingled gloom and brightness. It was worthy to have been one of the time-honored parsonages of England in which, through many generations, a succession of holy occupants pass from youth to age, and bequeath each an inheritance of sanctity to pervade the house and hover over it as with an atmosphere. Nor, in truth, had the Old Manse ever been profaned by a lay occupant until that memorable 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. The latest inhabitant alone — he by whose translation to paradise the dwelling was left vacant — had penned nearly three thousand discourses, besides the better, if not the greater, number that gushed living from his lips. How often, no doubt, had he paced to and fro along the avenue, attuning his meditations to the sighs and gentle murmurs, and deep and solemn peals of the wind among the lofty tops of the trees ! In that variety of natural utterances he could find something accordant with every passage of his sermon, were it of tenderness or reveren- tial fear. The boughs over my head seemed shadowy with solemn thoughts as well as with rustling leaves. I took shame to myself for having been so long a writer of idle stories, and NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 403 ventured to hope that wisdom would descend upon me with the falling leaves of the avenue, and that I should light upon an intellectual treasure in the Old Manse well worth those hoards of long-hidden gold which people seek for in moss- grown houses. Profound treatises of morality ; a layman's unprofessional and therefore unprejudiced views of religion ; histories (such as Bancroft might have written had he taken up his abode here as he once purposed) bright with picture, gleaming over a depth of philosophic thought, — these were the works that might fitly have flowed from such a retirement. In the humblest event I resolved at least to achieve a novel that should evolve some deep lesson and should possess physi- cal substance enough to stand alone. In furtherance of my design, and as if to leave me no pre- text for not fulfilling it, there was in the rear of the house the most delightful little nook of a study that ever afforded its snug seclusion 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 Paphian sunset and moourise from the summit of our eastern hill. When I first saw the room its walls were blackened with the smoke of un- numbered 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 fierceness had been imparted to their own visages. They had all vanished now ; a cheerful coat of paint and golden-timed paper-hangings lighted up the small apartment ; while the shadow of a willow-tree that swept against the over- hanging eaves attempered the cheery western sunshine. In place of the grim prints there was the sweet and lovely head of one of Raphael's Madonnas and two pleasant little pictures of the Lake of Como. The only other decorations were a purple vase of flowers, always fresh, and a bronze one con- taining graceful ferns. My books (few, and by no means choice ; for they were chiefly such waifs as chance had thrown in my way) stood in order about the room, seldom to be dis- turbed. The study had three windows, set with little, old-fashioned panes of glass, each with a crack across it. The two on the western side looked, or rather peeped, between the willow branches down into the orchard, with glimpses of the river through the trees. The third, facing northward, commanded a broader view of the river at a spot where its hitherto obscure 404 APPENDIX. waters gleam forth into the light of history. It was at this window that the clergyman who then dwelt in the Manse stood watching the outbreak of a long and deadly struggle between two nations ; he saw the irregular army of his parishioners on the farther side of the river and the glittering line of the British on the hither bank. He awaited in an agony of suspense the rattle of the musketry. It came, and there needed but a gentle wind to sweep the battle smoke around this quiet house. — From The Old Manse, in Mosses from an Old Manse. John Greenleaf Whittier. Ichabod. So fallen ! so lost ! the light withdrawn Which once he wore ! The glory from his gray hairs gone Forevermore ! Revile him not — the Tempter hath A snare for all; And pitying tears, not scorn and wrath, Befit his fall. Oh dumb be passion's stormy rage When he who might Have lighted up and led his age Falls back in night. Scorn? would the angels laugh to mark A bright soul driven, Fiend-goaded, down the endless dark, From hope and heaven? Let not the land once proud of him Insult him now, Nor brand with deeper shame his dim, Dishonored brow. But let its humbled sons, instead, From sea to lake, A long lament as for the dead In sadness make. NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 405 Of all we loved and honored, nought Save power remains — A fallen angel's pride of thought, Still strong in chains. All else is gone; from those great eyes The soul has fled : When faith is lost, when honor dies, The man is dead. Then pay the reverence of old days To his dead fame; Walk backward, with averted gaze, And hide the shame. Telling the Bees. Here is the place : right over the hill Runs the path I took; You can see the gap in the old wall still, And the stepping-stones in the shallow brook. There is the house, with the gate red-barred, And the poplars tall; And the barn's brown length, and the cattle-yard, And the white horns tossing about the wall. There are the bee-hives ranged in the sun; And down by the brink Of the brook are her poor flowers, weed o'er-run, Pansy and daffodil, rose and pink. A year has gone, as the tortoise goes, Heavy and slow; And the same rose blows, and the same sun glows, And the same brook sings of a year ago. There's the same sweet clover-smell in the breeze; And the June sun warm Tangles his wings of fire in the trees, Setting, as then, over Fernside farm. I mind me how, with a lover's care, From my Sunday coat I brushed off the burs, and smoothed my hair, And cooled at the brookside my brow and throat. 4o6 • APPENDIX. Since we parted, a month had passed — To love, a year; Down through the beeches I looked at last On the little red gate and the well-sweep near. I can see it all now — the slantwise rain Of light through the leaves, The sundown's blaze on her window-pane, The bloom of her roses under the eaves. Just the same as a month before — The house and the trees, The barn's brown gable, the vine by the door, — Nothing changed but the hives of bees. Before them, under the garden wall, Forward and back, Went drearily singing the chore-girl small, Draping each hive with a shred of black. Trembling, I listened : the summer sun Had the chill of snow; For I knew she was telling the bees of one Gone on the journey we all must go ! Then I said to myself, " My Mary weeps For the dead to-day; Haply her blind old grandsire sleeps The fret and the pain of his age away." But her dog whined low; on the doorway sill, With his cane to his chin, The old man sat; and the chore-girl still Sung to the bees stealing out and in. And the song she was singing ever since In my ear sounds on : "Stay at home, pretty bees, fly not hence-*- Mistress Mary is dead and gone ! " Snow-Bound. Shut in from all the world without, We sat the clean-winged hearth about, Content to let the north-wind roar In baffled rage at pane and door, While the red logs before us beat The frost-line back with tropic heat; NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 407 And ever, when a louder blast Shook beam and rafter as it passed, The merrier up its roaring draught The great throat of the chimney laughed. The house-dog on his paws outspread Laid to the fire his drowsy head, The cat's dark silhouette on the wall A couchant tiger's seemed to fall; And, for the winter fireside meet, Between the andirons' straddling feet. The mug of cider simmered slow, The apples sputtered in a row, And, close at hand, the basket stood With nuts from brown October's wood. What matter how the night behaved? What matter how the north-wind raved? Blow high, blow low, not all its snow Could quench our hearth-fire's ruddy glow. O Time and Change ! — with hair as gray As was my sire's that winter day, How strange it seems, with so much gone Of life and love to still live on ! Ah, brother ! only I and thou Are left of all that circle now — The dear home faces whereupon That fitful firelight paled and shone. Henceforward, listen as we will, The voices of that hearth are still ; Look where we may, the wide earth o'er, Those lighted faces smile no more. — Snow-Bound, 11. 155-190, ed. 1866. James Russell Lowell. To the Dandelion. Dear common flower, that grow'st beside the way, Fringing the dusty road with harmless gold, First pledge of blithesome May, Which children pluck, and, full of pride, uphold, High-hearted buccaneers, o'erjoyed that they An Eldorado in the grass have found, Which not the rich earth's ample round May match in wealth, thou art more dear to me Than all the prouder summer-blooms may be. 4 o8 APPENDIX. Gold such as thine ne'er drew the Spanish prow Through the primeval hush of Indian seas, Nor wrinkled the lean brow Of age, to rob the lover's heart of ease : Tis the Spring's largess, which she scatters now To rich and poor alike, with lavish hand, Though most hearts never understand To take it at God's value, but pass by The offered wealth with unrewarded eye. Thou art my tropics and mine Italy; To look at thee unlocks a warmer clime; The eyes thou givest me Are in the heart, and heed not space or time : Not in mid June the golden-cuirassed bee Feels a more summer-like warm ravishment In the white lily's breezy tent, His fragrant Sybaris, than I when first From the dark green thy yellow circles burst. Then think I of deep shadows on the grass; Of meadows where in sun the cattle graze, Where, as the breezes pass, The gleaming rushes lean a thousand ways; Of leaves that slumber in a cloudy mass, Or whiten in the wind; of waters blue That from the distance sparkle through Some woodland gap; and of a sky above, Where one white cloud like a stray lamb doth move. My childhood's earliest thoughts are linked with thee : The sight of thee calls back the robin's song, Who, from the dark old tree Beside the door, sang clearly all day long; And I, secure in childish piety, Listened as if I heard an angel sing With news from heaven, which he could bring Fresh every day to my untainted ears, When birds and flowers were happy peers. How like a prodigal doth nature seem, When thou, for all thy gold, so common art ! Thou teachest me to deem More sacredly of every human heart, Since each reflects in joy its scanty gleam Of heaven, and could some wondrous secret show, Did we but pay the love we owe, And with a child's undoubting wisdom look On all these living pages of God's book. NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 409 The Recruiting Officer. Thrash away ! you'll hev to rattle On them kittle-drums o' yourn — 'Taint a knowin' kind o' cattle Thet is ketched with mouldy corn. Put in stiff, you fifer feller, Let folks see how spry you be — Guess you'll toot till you are yeller 'Fore you git ahold o' me. That air flag's a leetle rotten; Hope it aint your Sunday's best. Fact ! it takes a sight o' cotton To stuff out a soger's chest : Sence we farmers hev to pay fer't, Ef you must wear humps like these Sposin' you should try salt hay fer't — It would du ez slick ez grease. 'Twouldn't suit them Southun fellers; They're a dreffle graspin' set : We must oilers blow the bellers Wen they want their irons het. May be it's all right ez preachin', But my narves it kind o' grates Wen I see the overreachin' O' them nigger-drivin' States. Them thet rule us, them slave-traders, Haint they cut a thunderin' swarth (Helped by Yankee renegaders) Thru the vartu o' the North ! We begin to think it's nater To take sarse an' not be riled : Who'd expect to see a tater All on eend at bein' biled? Ez fer war, I call it murder — There you hev it plain an' flat; I don't want to go no furder Than my testyment fer that : God hez sed so plump an' fairly; It's ez long ez it is broad; An' you've gut to git up airly Ef you want to take in God. 410 APPENDIX. Taint your eppyletts an' feathers Make the thing a grain more right; 'Taint afollerin' your bell-wethers Will excuse ye in His sight : Ef you take a sword an' dror it An' go stick a feller thru, Guv'ment aint to answer for it — God'll send the bill to you. — The Bigloiu Papers, First Series, No. I, Stanzas 1-6. Abraham Lincoln. The change which three years have brought about is too remarkable to be passed over without comment, too weighty in its lesson not to be laid to heart. Never did a President enter upon office with less means at his command, outside his own strength of heart and steadiness of understanding, for inspiring confidence in the people, and so winning it for him- self, than Mr. Lincoln. All that was known of him was that he was a good stump-speaker, nominated for his availability, — that is, because he had no history, — and chosen by a party with whose more extreme opinions he was not in sympathy. It might well be feared that a man past fifty, against whom the ingenuity of hostile partisans could rake up no accusation, must be lacking in manliness of character, in decision of prin- ciple, in strength of will, — that a man who was at best only the representative of a party, and who yet did not fairly rep- resent even that, — would fail of political, much more of popu- lar, support. And certainly no one ever entered upon office with so few resources of power in the past, and so many ma- terials of weakness in the present, as Mr. Lincoln. Even in that half of the Union which acknowledged him as President, there was a large, and at that time dangerous minority, that hardly admitted his claim to the office, and even in the party that elected him there was also a large minority that suspected him of being secretly a communicant with the church of Lao- dicea. All that he did was sure to be virulently attacked as ultra by one side ; all that he left undone, to be stigmatized as proof of iukewarmness and backsliding by the other. Mean- while he was to carry on a truly colossal war by means of both ; he was to disengage the country from diplomatic en- tanglements of unprecedented peril undisturbed by the help or the hindrance of either, and to win from the crowning dan- gers of his administration, in the confidence of the people, the NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 411 means of his safety and their own. He has contrived to do it, and perhaps none of our Presidents since Washington has stood so firm in the confidence of the people as he does after three years of stormy administration. Mr. Lincoln's policy was a tentative one, and rightly so. He laid down no programme which must compel him to be either inconsistent or unwise, no cast-iron theorem to which circumstances must be fitted as they rose, or else be useless to his ends. He seemed to have chosen Mazarin's motto, Le temps et moi. The moi, to be sure, was not very prominent at first ; but it has grown more and more so, till the world is beginning to be persuaded that it stands for a character of marked individuality and capacity for affairs. Time was his prime-minister, and, we began to think, at one period, his gen- eral-in-chief also. At first he was so slow that he tired out all those who see no evidence of progress but in blowing up the engine ; then he was so fast, that he took the breath away from those who think there is no getting on safely while there is a spark of fire under the boilers. God is the only being who has time enough ; but a prudent man, who knows how to seize occasion, can commonly make a shift to find as much as he needs. Mr. Lincoln, as it seems to us in reviewing his career, though we have sometimes in our impatience thought otherwise, has always waited, as a wise man should, till the right moment brought up all his reserves. Semper nocuit differre paratis, is a sound axiom, but the really efficacious man will also be sure to know when he is not ready, and be firm against all persuasion and reproach till he is. One would be apt to think, from some of the criticisms made on Mr. Lincoln's course by those who mainly agree with him in principle, that the chief object of a statesman should be rather to proclaim his adhesion to certain doctrines, than to achieve their triumph by quietly accomplishing his ends. In our opinion, there is no more unsafe politician than a conscientiously rigid doctrinaire, nothing more sure to end in disaster than a theoretic scheme of policy that admits of no pliability for contingencies. True, there is a popular image of an impossible He, in whose plastic hands the submissive destinies of mankind become as wax, and to whose command- ing necessity the toughest facts yield with the graceful pliancy of fiction ; but in real life we commonly find that the men who control circumstances, as it is called, are those who have learned to allow for the influence of their eddies, and have the nerve to turn them to account at the happy instant. Mr. Lincoln's 4 i2 APPENDIX. perilous task has been to carry a rather shackly raft through the rapids, making fast the unrulier logs as he could snatch opportunity, and the country is to be congratulated that he did not think it his duty to run straight at all hazards, but cautiously to assure himself with his setting-pole where the main current was, and keep steadily to that. He is still in wild water, but we have faith that his skill and sureness of eye will bring him out right at last. — From Abraham Lincoln, ed. 1864. Oliver Wendell Holmes. 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 — NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 413 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; 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 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 rise to sun their streaming hair. Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl; 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 ! 4 i4 APPENDIX. 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, 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 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 r 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 Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table. 1 wonder if anybody ever finds fault with anything I say at this table when it is repeated? I hope they do, I am sure. I should be very certain that I had said nothing of much significance, if they did not. Did you never, in walking in the fields, come across a large flat stone, which had lain, nobody knows how long, just where you found it, with the grass forming a little hedge, as it were, all round it, close to its edges, — and have you not, in obedi- ence to a kind of feeling that told you it had been lying there long enough, insinuated your stick or your foot or your fingers under its edge and turned it over as a housewife turns a cake, when she says to herself, " It's done brown enough by this time' 1 ? What an odd revelation, and what an unforeseen and unpleasant surprise to a small community, the very exist- ence of which you had not suspected, until the sudden dis- may and scattering among its members produced by your turning the old stone over! Blades of grass flattened down, colorless, matted together, as if they had been bleached and NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 415 ironed ; hideous crawling creatures, some of them coleopter- ous or horny-shelled, — turtle-bugs one wants to call them; some of them softer, but cunningly spread out and compressed like Lepine watches ; (Nature never loses a crack or a crevice, mind you, or a joint in a tavern bedstead, but she always has one of her flat-pattern live timekeepers to slide into it ;) black, glossy crickets, with their long filaments sticking out like the whips of four-horse stage-coaches ; motionless, slug-like crea- tures, young larvae, perhaps more horrible in their pulpy still- ness than even in the infernal wriggle of maturity ! But no sooner is the stone turned and the wholesome light of day let upon this compressed and blinded community of creeping things, than all of them which enjoy the luxury of legs — and some of them have a good many — rush round wildly, butting each other and everything in their way, and end in a general stampede for underground retreats from the region poisoned by sunshine. Next year you will find the grass growing tall and green where the stone lay ; the ground-bird builds her nest where the beetle had his hole ; the dandelion and the buttercup are growing there, and the broad fans of insect- angels open and shut over their golden disks, as the rhythmic waves of blissful consciousness pulsate through their glorified being. The young fellow whom they call John saw fit to say, in his very familiar way, — at which I do not choose to take offence, but which I sometimes think it necessary to repress, — that I was coming it rather strong on the butterflies. No, I replied ; there is meaning in each of those images, — the butterfly as well as the others. The stone is ancient error. The grass is human nature borne down and bleached of all its colour by it. The shapes which are found beneath are the crafty beings that thrive in darkness, and the weaker organ- isms kept helpless by it. He who turns the stone over is whosoever puts the staff of truth to the old lying incubus, no matter whether he do it with a serious face or a laughing one. The next year stands for the coming time. Then shall the nature which had lain blanched and broken rise in its full stature and native hues in the sunshine. Then shall God\s minstrels build their nests in the heart of a newborn human- ity. Then shall beauty — Divinity taking outlines and color — light upon the souls of men as the butterfly, image of the beatified spirit rising from the dust, soars from the shell that held a poor grub, which would never have found wings, had not the stone been lifted. 4 i6 APPENDIX. You never need think you can turn over any old falsehood without a terrible squirming and scattering of the horrid little population that dwells under it. Every real thought on every real subject knocks the wind out of somebody or other. As soon as his breath comes back, he very probably begins to expend it in hard words. These are the best evidence a man can have that he has said something it was time to say. Dr. Johnson was disappointed in the effect of one of his pamphlets. " I think I have not been attacked enough for it," he said ; — " attack is the re- action ; I never think I have hit hard unless it rebounds." — From The Autocrat of the Breakfast-Table, Section v. Walt Whitman. O Captain I My Captain I O Captain ! my Captain ! our fearful trip is done ; The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won; The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring. But O heart ! heart, heart ! O the bleeding drops of red ! Where on the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. O Captain ! my Captain ! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up — for you the flag is flung — for you the bugle trills — For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths — for you the shores a-crowding — For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning. Here, Captain ! dear father ! This arm beneath your head ! It is some dream that on the deck You've fallen cold and dead. My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still; My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will. The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done; From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won. Exult, O shores ! and ring, O bells ! But I with mournful tread Walk the deck my Captain lies, Fallen cold and dead. NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 417 Whispers of Heavenly Death. Whispers of heavenly death murmur'd I hear, Labial gossip of night, sibilant chorals. Footsteps gently ascending, mystical breezes wafted soft and low, Ripples of unseen rivers, tides of a current flowing, forever flowing. (Or is it the plashing of tears? the measureless waters of human tears?) I see, just see skyward, great cloud-masses; Mournfully, slowly they roll, silently swelling and mixing, With at times a half-dimm'd sadden'd far-off star, Appearing and disappearing. (Some parturition rather, some solemn immortal birth; On the frontiers to eyes impenetrable, Some soul is passing over.) To the Man-of -War-Bird. Thou who hast slept all night upon the storm, Waking renew' d on thy prodigious pinions (Burst the wild storm? above it thou ascended'st, And rested on the sky, thy slave that cradled thee), Now a blue point, far, far in heaven floating, As to the light emerging here on deck I watch thee (Myself a speck, a point on the world's floating vast). Far, far at sea, After the night's fierce drifts have strewn the shore with wrecks; With re-appearing day as now so happy and serene, The rosy and elastic dawn, the flashing sun, The limpid spread of air cerulean, Thou also re-appearest. Thou born to match the gale (thou art all wings), To cope with heaven and earth and sea and hurricane, Thou ship of air that never furl'st thy sails, Days, even weeks, untired and onward, through spaces, realms gyrating, At dusk that look'st on Senegal, at morn America, That sport'st amid the lightning-flash and thunder-cloud, In them, in thy experiences, had'st thou my soul, What joys ! what joys were thine ! 4 i8 APPENDIX. Daniel Webster. Liberty and Union. I profess, Sir, in my career hitherto, to have kept steadily in view the prosperity and honor of the whole country, and the preservation of our Federal Union. It is to that Union we owe our safety at home, and our consideration and dignity abroad. It is to that Union that we are chiefly indebted for whatever makes us most proud of our country. That Union we reached only by the discipline of our virtues in the severe school of adversity. It had its origin in the necessities of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit. Under its benign influences, these great interests immediately awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness of life. Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility and its blessings; and although our territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our population spread farther and farther, they have not outrun its protection or its benefits. It has been to us all a copious fountain of national, social, and personal happiness. I have not allowed myself, Sir, to look beyond the Union, to see what might lie hidden in the dark recess behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances of preserving liberty when the bonds that unite us together shall be broken asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disunion, to see whether, with my short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss below ; nor could I regard him as a safe counsellor in the affairs of this government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not how the Union may be best preserved, but how tolerable might be the condi- tion of the people when it should be broken up and destroyed. While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Be- yond that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that in my day, at least, that curtain may not rise! God grant that on my vision never may be opened what lies behind ! When my eyes shall be turned to behold for the last time the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood! Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather be- hold the gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known and NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 419 honored throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscured, bearing for its motto, no such miserable interrogatory as " What is all this worth?" nor those other words of delusion and folly, " Liberty first and Union afterwards " ; but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart, — Liberty and Union, now and for ever, one and inseparable ! — From the Second Speech on Foofs Resolution. Abraham Lincoln. Address at the Dedication of the Gettysburg National Cemetery. Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedi- cated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that na- tion might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this. But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate — we cannot consecrate — 'we cannot hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full meas- ure of devotion ; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain ; that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom ; and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. 4 20 APPENDIX. William H. Prescott. Human Sacrifices among the Aztecs. Human sacrifices were adopted by the Aztecs early in the fourteenth century, about two hundred years before the Con- quest. Rare at first, they became more frequent with the wider extent of their empire ; till at length almost every festi- val was closed with this cruel abomination. These religious ceremonials were generally arranged in such a manner as to afford a type of the most prominent circumstances in the character or history of the deity who was the object of them. A single example will suffice. One of their most important festivals was that in honor of the god Tezcatlipoca, whose rank was inferior only to that of the Supreme Being. He was called "the soul of the world," and supposed to have been its creator. He was depicted as a handsome man, endowed with perpetual youth. A year be- fore the intended sacrifice, a captive, distinguished for his personal beauty, and without a blemish on his body, was selected to represent this deity. Certain tutors took charge of him, and instructed him how to perform his new part with becoming grace and dignity. He was arrayed in a splendid dress, regaled with incense and with a profusion of sweet- scented flowers, of which the ancient Mexicans were as fond as their descendants at the present day. When he went abroad, he was attended by a train of the royal pages, and, as he halted in the streets to play some favorite melody, the crowd prostrated themselves before him, and did him homage as the representative of their good deity. In this way he led an easy, luxurious life, till within a month of his sacrifice. Four beautiful girls, bearing the names of the principal god- desses, were then selected to share the honors of his bed ; and with them he continued to live in idle dalliance, feasted at the banquets of the principal nobles, who paid him all the honors of a divinity. At length the fatal day of sacrifice arrived. The term of his short-lived glories was at an end. He was stripped of his gaudy apparel, and bade adieu to the fair partners of his rev- elries. One of the royal barges transported him across the lake to a temple which rose on its margin, about a league from the city. Hither the inhabitants of the capital flocked, to witness the consummation of the ceremony. As the sad procession wound up the sides of the pyramid, the unhappy victim threw away his gay chaplets of flowers, and broke in NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 421 pieces the musical instruments with which he had solaced the hours of captivity. On the summit he was received by six priests, whose long and matted locks flowed disorderly over their sable robes, covered with hieroglyphic scrolls of mystic import. They led him to the sacrificial stone, a huge block of jasper, with its upper surface somewhat convex. On this the prisoner was stretched. Five priests secured his head and his limbs; while the sixth, clad in a scarlet mantle, em- blematic of his bloody office, dexterously opened the breast of the wretched victim with a sharp razor of itztli, — a vol- canic substance, hard as flint, — and, inserting his hand in the wound, tore out the palpitating heart. The minister of death, first holding this up towards the sun, an object of wor- ship throughout Anahuac, cast it at the feet of the deity to whom the temple was devoted, while the multitudes below prostrated themselves in humble adoration. The tragic story of this prisoner was expounded by the priests as the type of human destiny, which, brilliant in its commencement, too often closes in sorrow and disaster. — From The Conquest of Mexico, Book I, Chapter hi. John Lothrop Motley. Two Monarchs. Charles the Fifth was then fifty-five years and eight months old ; but he was already decrepit with premature old age. He was of about the middle height, and had been athletic and well-proportioned. Broad in the shoulders, deep in the chest, thin in the flank, very muscular in the arms and legs, he had been able to match himself with all competitors in the tour- ney and the ring, and to vanquish the bull with his own hand in the favorite national amusement of Spain. He had been able in the field to do the duty of captain and soldier, to en- dure fatigue and exposure, and every privation except fasting. These personal advantages were now departed. Crippled in hands, knees and legs, he supported himself with difficulty upon a crutch, with the aid of an attendant's shoulder. In face he had always been extremely ugly, and time had cer- tainly not improved his physiognomy. His hair, once of a light color, was now white with age, close-clipped and bris- tling; his beard was gray, coarse, and shaggy. His forehead was spacious and commanding; the eye was dark-blue, with an expression both majestic and benignant. His nose was 422 APPENDIX. aquiline but crooked. The lower part of his face was famous for its deformity. The under lip, a Burgundian inheritance, as faithfully transmitted as the duchy and county, was heavy and hanging ; the lower jaw protruding so far beyond the upper, that it was impossible for him to bring together the few fragments of teeth which still remained, or to speak a whole sentence in an intelligible voice. Eating and talking, occupations to which he was always much addicted, were becoming daily more arduous, in consequence of this original defect, which now seemed hardly human, but rather an origi- nal deformity. So much for the father. The son, Philip the Second, was a small, meagre man, much below the middle height, with thin legs, a narrow chest, and the shrinking, timid air of an habit- ual invalid. He seemed so little, upon his first visit to his aunts, the Queens Eleanor and Mary, accustomed to look upon proper men in Flanders and Germany, that he was fain to win their favor by making certain attempts in the tourna- ment, in which his success was sufficiently problematical. '' His body, 1 ' says his professed panegyrist, " was but a human cage, in which, however brief and narrow, dwelt a soul to whose flight the immeasurable expanse of heaven was too contracted." The same wholesale admirer adds, that "his aspect was so reverend, that rustics who met him alone in a wood, without knowing him, bowed down with instinctive veneration." In face, he was the living image of his father, having the same broad forehead, and blue eye, with the same aquiline, but better proportioned, nose. In the lower part of the countenance, the remarkable Burgundian deformity was likewise reproduced. He had the same heavy, hanging lip with a vast mouth, and monstrously protruding lower jaw. His complexion was fair, his hair light and thin, his beard yellow, short, and pointed. He had the aspect of a Fleming, but the loftiness of a Spaniard. His demeanor in public was still, silent, almost sepulchral. He looked habitually on the ground when he conversed, was chary of speech, embarrassed, and even suffering in manner. This was ascribed partly to a natural haughtiness which he had occasionally endeavored to overcome, and partly to habitual pains in the stomach, occa- sioned by his inordinate fondness for pastry. Such was the personal appearance of the man who was about to receive into his single hand the destinies of half the world; whose single will was, for the future, to shape the fortunes of every individual then present, of many millions NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 423 more in Europe, America, and at the ends of the earth, and of countless millions yet unborn. — From The Rise of the Dutch Republic, Part I, Chapter i. Francis Parkman. A Fight in the Forest. There is an island in the St. Lawrence near the mouth of the Richelieu. On the nineteenth of June it was swarming with busy and clamorous savages, — Champlain's Montagnais allies, cutting down the trees and clearing the ground for a dance and a feast ; for they were hourly expecting the Algon- quin warriors, and were eager to welcome them with befitting honors. But suddenly, far out on the river, they saw an ad- vancing canoe. Now on this side, now on that, the flashing paddles urged it forward as if death were on its track ; and as it drew near, the Indians on board cried out that the Algon- quins were in the forest, a league distant, engaged with a hun- dred warriors of the Iroquois, who, outnumbered, were fighting savagely within a barricade of trees. The air was split with shrill outcries. The Montagnais snatched their weapons, — shields, bows, arrows, war-clubs, sword-blades made fast to poles, — and ran headlong to their canoes, impeding each other in their haste, screeching to Champlain to follow, and invoking with no less vehemence the aid of certain fur-traders, just arrived in four boats from below. These, as it was not their cue to fight, lent them a deaf ear ; on which, in disgust and scorn, they paddled off, calling to the recusants that they were women, fit for nothing but to make war on beaver-skins. Champlain and four of his men were in the canoes. They shot across the intervening water, and, as their prows grated on the pebbles, each warrior flung down his paddle, snatched his weapons, and ran into the woods. The five Frenchmen followed, striving vainly to keep pace with the naked, light- limbed rabble, bounding like shadows through the forest. They quickly disappeared. Even their shrill cries grew faint, till Champlain and his men, discomforted and vexed, found themselves deserted in the midst of a swamp. The day was sultry, the forest air heavy, close, and filled with hosts of mos- quitoes, "so thick," says the chief sufferer, '* that we could scarcely draw breath, and it was wonderful how cruelly they persecuted us." Through black mud, spongy moss, water 424 APPENDIX. knee-deep, over fallen trees, among slimy logs and entangling roots, tripped by vines, lashed by recoiling boughs, panting under their steel head-pieces and heavy corselets, the French- men struggled on, bewildered and indignant. At length they descried two Indians running in the distance, and shouted to them in desperation, that, if they wanted their aid, they must guide them to the enemy. At length they could hear the yells of the combatants ; there was light in the forest before them, and they issued into a partial clearing made by the Iroquois axe-men near the river. Champlain saw their barricade. Trees were piled into a cir- cular breastwork, trunks, boughs, and matted foliage forming a strong defence, within which the Iroquois stood savagely at bay. Around them flocked the allies, half hidden in the edges of the forest, like hounds around a wild boar, eager, clamorous, yet afraid to rush in. They had attacked, and had met a bloody rebuff. All their hope w r as now in the French ; and when they saw them, a yell arose from hundreds of throats that outdid the wilderness voices whence its tones were bor- rowed, — the whoop of the horned owl, the scream of the cou- gar, the howl of starved wolves on a winter night. A fierce response pealed from the desperate band within ; and, amid a storm of arrows from both sides, the Frenchmen threw them- selves into the fray, firing at random through the fence of trunks, boughs, and drooping leaves, with which the Iroquois had encircled themselves. Champlain felt a stone-headed arrow splitting his ear and tearing through the muscles of his neck. He drew it out, and, the moment after, did a similar office for one of his men. But the Iroquois had not recovered from their first terror at the arquebuse ; and when the mys- terious and terrible assailants, clad in steel and armed with thunder-bolts, ran up to the barricade, thrust their pieces through the openings, and shot death among the crowd within, they could not control their fright, but with every report threw themselves flat on the ground. Animated with unwonted valor, the allies, covered by their large shields, began to drag out the felled trees of the barricade, while others, under Champlain's direction, gathered at the edge of the forest, preparing to close the affair with a final rush. New actors soon appeared on the scene. These were a boa^s crew of the fur-traders under a young man of St. Malo, one Des Prairies, who, when he heard the firing, could not resist the impulse to join the fight. On seeing them, Champlain check-d the assault, in order, as he says, that the newcomers might NINETEENTH CENTURY LITERATURE. 425 have their share in the sport. The traders opened fire, with great zest and no less execution ; while the Iroquois, now wild with terror, leaped and writhed to dodge the shot which tore through their frail armor of twigs. Cham plain gave the sig- nal ; the crowd ran to the barricade, dragged down the boughs or clambered over them, and bore themselves, in his own words, "so well and manfully," that, though scratched and torn by the sharp points, they quickly forced an entrance. The French ceased their fire, and, followed by a smaller bodv of Indians, scaled the barricade on the farther side. Now. amid howlings, shouts, and screeches, the work was finished. Some of the Iroquois were cut down as they stood, hewing with their war-clubs, and foaming like slaughtered tigers ; some climbed the barrier and were killed by the furious crowd with- out ; some were drowned in the river ; while fifteen, the only survivors, were made prisoners. "By the grace of God," writes Champlain, "behold the battle won!" Drunk with ferocious ecstasy, the conquerors scalped the dead and gath- ered fagots for the living ; while some of the fur-traders, too late to bear part in the fight, robbed the carcasses of their blood-bedrenched robes of beaver-skin amid the derision of the surrounding Indians. — From Samuel de Champlain, Chapter xi, in Pioneers of France in the New World, B. NEWSPAPERS AND MAGAZINES — COLLEGES — THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. Newspapers and Magazines. 1 The first newspaper established in America was The Boston News-Letter, a weekly, which ran from 1704 to 1 776.2 It was usually printed on a (printer's) half-sheet, and contained short pieces of foreign and domestic news. Its space was so scanty that in 1719 it had got thirteen months behindhand with the foreign news from regions beyond Great Britain ; for some time, therefore, a whole sheet was printed every other week, until the publisher was able to announce proudly that that part of his news-record was " now less than five months " behindhand. The Boston Gazette was started in 17 19; The New England Courant in 1721. Several other papers were started in Boston within the next fifteen years ; but only one of them, The Boston Evening-Post, continued to the Revolu- tion. In 1768 The Boston Chronicle began to appear twice a week. In 1770 The Massachusetts Spy was published thrice a week for a few months ; in 1771 it became a weekly, but of larger size than any which had yet appeared in Boston, being printed on a whole sheet, four columns to a page. Pennsyl- vania was only a little behind Massachusetts, the third news- paper in America, The A?nerican Weekly Mercury, being started in Philadelphia, Dec. 22, 1719, one day later than The Boston Gazette. The second newspaper in the colony, The Pennsylvania Gazette, founded in 1728, was bought in 1729 by Franklin, who published it twice a week for a while and soon made it very profitable. Several other Pennsylvania newspapers (some of them in German) sprang up at various times before the Revolution. The first daily newspaper in 1 Most of the facts are taken from Thomas's History 0/ Printing in America. 2 A newspaper, Publick Occurrences, was started in Boston in 1690, but the authorities suppressed it after the first issue. 426 NEWSPAPERS, MAGAZINES, COLLEGES. 427 the United States, The Pennsylvania Packet and Daily Ad* vertiser, was founded in Philadelphia in 1784. The colony of New York was the third in the field, The IVew York Gazette making its appearance in 1725. Before 1770 eight other newspapers had been started in New York, although some lived but a short time. Virginia had but two newspapers before the Revolution, founded in 1736 and 1766 respectively. In Maryland the first newspaper was started in 1727; in Rhode Island and South Carolina, in 1732; in Connecticut and North Carolina, in 1755; m New Hampshire, in 1756; in Delaware, in 1762; in Georgia, in 1763. At the outbreak of the Revolution there were in the colonies 37 newspapers, distributed as follows : Pennsylvania, 9 ; Massachusetts, 7 ; New York, 4 ; Connecticut, 4 ; South Carolina, 3 ; Rhode Island, Maryland, Virginia, and North Carolina, 2 each ; New Hampshire and Georgia, 1 each. Not to be deceived by words we should remember that the stunted little newspapers of Colonial and Revolutionary times were, in size, circulation, and amount of news, very different from the journals of to-day. The "editorial/ 1 too, in its modern sense, was unknown to our great-grandfathers ; letters to the publisher took its place to some extent, and in times of public excitement the old Gazettes and Mercuries might do a good deal to indicate and to mould public sentiment. But in general the Colonial and Revolutionary newspaper not only presented little news but had little or nothing to say about it. The American magazines, like the newspapers, closely fol- lowed English models, and were not much if at all inferior. To the modern reader, however, they seem on the whole feeble, dry, and dull. Some idea of them may be had from the plan set forth in the preface to The American Magazine and Monthly Chronicle for the British Colonies, which was launched in 1757, at Philadelphia, "By a Society of Gentle- men," and is a superior sample of its class : each number was to contain "an account of European affairs"; "a philosophi- cal miscellany " ; " monthly essays, in prose and verse " ; " a history of the present war in North-America " ; " monthly transactions in each colony, the account of new books, . . . preferments, births, marriages, deaths, arrivals of ships, prices current." The emphasis on the practical and instructive is evident ; of entertainment little was sought, and little found. Yet on the whole the talent available for these maga- zines was greater than the demand for them, and few and evil were the days of their pilgrimage The American Maga^ 4 28 APPENDIX. vine and Historical Chronicle, a monthly of fifty pages, estab- lished at Boston in 1743, ran three years and four months. The ATew England Magazine of Knowledge and Pleasure, 2l monthly which came out when it could, after the appearance of three or four numbers in the course of six or seven months, was discontinued in 1759. The Royal American Magazine, printed in handsome type, with two copperplate engravings in each number, began to be issued at Boston in January, 1774; it had a considerable list of subscribers, but the battle of Lexington killed it. In Pennsylvania conditions were also unfavorable for longevity. The General Magazine lived only six months, in 1741. The American Magazine (already men- tioned) seems to have died in a year. The Pennsylvania Magazine, edited and written, in part, by Thomas Paine, was started in January, 1775, and died in July, 1776, the last number containing the Declaration of Independence. The United States Magazine, edited by H. H. Brackenridge, with Philip Freneau as a leading contributor, was published at Philadelphia through 1779, and was then discontinued "until an established peace and a fixed value of the money shall render it convenient or possible to take it up again." After the war, magazines were again attempted. The Boston Maga- zine came in and went out with the year 1785. The Colum- bian Magazine, started in 1786, lived three years. The American Museum was established in 1787. Other maga- zines made their appearance from time to time, and had some success. But it was not until 181 5, thirteen years after the founding of The Edinburgh Review had inaugurated a new era for magazines in Great Britain, that American magazine literature was placed upon a solid basis by the establishment of The North Atnerican Review. Colleges. The intellectuality of the stock which peopled British America is shown by the fact that they early established col- leges. Harvard College was opened 1 in 1638; William and Mary College, Virginia, in 1694; Yale College in 1701 ; Col- lege of New Jersey (now Princeton University) in 1746; Washington and Lee University, Virginia, in 1749; Univer- 1 The dates of founding or chartering are often different from the dates of actual opening. Thus Harvard was founded in 1636, by a vote of the Legislature appropriating money ; it was chartered in 165a The dates here given are taken from Johnsons Universal Cyclopedia* THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 429 sity of Pennsylvania in 1753 i King's College (now Columbia University) in 1754; Frederick College, Maryland, in 1763; Rhode Island College (now Brown University) in 1765 ; Rut- gers College, New Jersey, in 1770; Dartmouth College in 1770; Hampden-Sidney College, Virginia, in 1776; Wash- ington College, Maryland, in 1782; Dickinson College, Penn sylvania, in 1783; College of Charleston, South Carolina, in 1785. Thus before the Revolution nine of the thirteen colo- nies had institutions of higher learning. These colonial colleges were of course small and poorly equipped. But most of them nevertheless did good work, especially in the classics. The requirements for admission to Harvard are thus stated by Cotton Mather in his Magnalia (Book IV., p. 127, ed. 1702) : "When Scholars had so far profited at the Grammar Schools, that they could Read any Classical Author into English, and readily make, and speak true Latin, and Write it in Verse as well as Prose ; and perfectly Decline the Para- digms of Nouns and Verbs in the Greek Tongue, they were judged capable of Admission into Harvard-Colledge." The college course, in Harvard at least, "embraced the contem- poraneous learning of the colleges in England," 1 including (in 1643) rhetoric, logic, ethics, divinity, arithmetic, geometry, physics, astronomy, Greek, Latin, Hebrew, Syriac, Chaldee, etc. 1 President Dunster wrote in 1649 tna * some of the Harvard students could "with ease dexterously translate Hebrew and Chaldee into Greek." 2 This steeping in the great languages and literatures of antiquity was one of the best possible ways to prepare for the creation, later, of a worthy literature in the mother tongue. The American poets and novelists were yet to be born. Meanwhile their ancestors wisely conned the pages of Homer, Virgil, and Cicero. The New England Primer. 3 From this curious little book the children of New England, for a century and a half, learned the elements of religion and morality as well as of reading. The first compiler of it seems to have been Benjamin Harris, a Boston publisher, who, before he fled from England in 1686, had printed The 1 Peirce's A History of Harvard University, p. 7 ; Appendix, pp. 6, 7. 2 Felt's The Ecclesiastical History of New England, Vol. II., p. 10. 8 See two articles by J. H. Trumbull in The Sunday School Times. April 29 and May 6, 1882; and The New-England Pri?ner t by P. Lt Ford (Dodd, Mead & Co., 1897). 430 APPENDIX. Protestant Tutor, which had several of the distinctive features of the Primer, and was (says Mr. Ford) its "legitimate prede- cessor." The Primer is also the descendant of a line of English primers, running back through many centuries. The earliest surviving reference to it is in an almanac for 1691, published by Harris, in which he advertised as forthcoming "a Second Impression of the New-England Primer enlarged, to which is added, more Directions for Spelling, 11 etc. The first edition must have appeared (says Mr. Ford) between 1687 and 1690. The earliest extant complete copy was pub- lished at Boston in 1737. The book was reprinted number- less times in the eighteenth century, with various changes and additions, 1 and has often been reproduced since as a curiosity. In its sombre and dogmatic religiousness, severe morality, and defective aesthetic sense (as shown by the doggerel verse and rude wood-cuts), The New England Primer is a mirror of the times which produced and used it. It passes rapidly, and without apparent sense of incongruity, from hard sense or sublime theology to the puerile and trivial. Some idea of the Primer may be had from a description of a copy printed (as the frontispiece shows) sometime during Washington^ presidency. It is a quaint little book, four inches long, two and three-fourths inches wide, and one-third of an inch thick. The lids are of wood, covered with pale-blue paper and united by a leather back. The title-page reads thus : " The New- England Primer, or, an easy and pleasant Guide to the Art of Reading. Adorn'd with Cutts. To which are added, The Assembly of Divines 1 Catechism. Boston : Printed and sold by J. White, near Charles-River Bridge. 11 On the reverse are two stanzas to children, ending with Nor dare indulge a meaner flame, 'Till you have lov'd the Lord. The alphabet follows ; then come a Easy Syllables for Chil- dren" — ab, ac, eb, ec, etc. ; and in five pages more, a bo mi na ti on and a scanty assortment of other "Words of six Syllables " are reached. Art and poetry are now wedded to the alphabet in twenty-four couplets or triplets, illustrated by inimitable wood-cuts apparently made by the printer with his pocket-knife. Some of the choicest lines are these : 1 Some editions reprinted John Cotton's Spiritual Milk for Amer* ican Babes, Drawn out of the Breasts of Both Testaments, for theit Houls Nourishment. THE NEW ENGLAND PRIMER. 431 "In ^danVs fall, We sinned all " ; " Young Obadias, David, Josias, AU were pious"; "Xerxes did die, And so must 1"; "Zaccheus, he Did climb the tree, Our Lord to see." After some other matter, including the statement that " He that don't learn his ABC, For ever will a blockhead be," come the Lord's Prayer and the Apostles 1 Creed. Treading close on the heels of these sublime passages intrudes some pious doggerel, beginning, I in the burying place may see Graves shorter there than I. This is at once succeeded by Watts's pretty Cradle Hymn, Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber, Holy Angels guard thy bed, and his "Now I lay me down to sleep," both which are still sacred memories to millions. They are but thinly fenced off by Agurs Prayer from a marvellous cut which represents "Mr. John Rogers, minister of the gospel," "the first martyr in Queen Mary's reign," burning at the stake, while "his wife, with nine small children, and one at her breast," 1 calmly look on ; several pages of metrical advice, which unhappily escaped the author's fate, follow. Then comes The Shorter Catechism, which fills most of the latter half of the book. The solemn questions and answers are still sounding in our ears when we are exhorted to " Let dogs delight to bark and bite " ; children are once more reminded that until their "breast glows with sacred love" they should " indulge no meaner fires " ; and the Primer ends with this secular stanza, which is all the same as if a Puritan congre- gation were to come out of church in a jig : — Here 's Tom, Dick, and Benny, With pitchfork and with rake; Sally, Kate, and Jenny, Come here the hay to make. 1 Many were the hours spent by the curious school-boy in wrestling with the question whether there were ten children in all or only nine. The obscure wood-cut but darkened the problem, which is still un- solved. PARTIAL BIBLIOGRAPHY OF COLONIAL AND REVOLUTIONARY LITERATURE. [Many of the titles are copied from first editions; most of the others, from Sabin's Bibliotheca Americana. The titles are often abridged; but what is given is reproduced as exactly as possible, and anything added is enclosed in brackets.] I. COLONIAL PERIOD, x. VIRGINIA. A Trve Relation of such occurrences and accidents of noate as hath hapned in Virginia since the first planting of that Collony. Written by Captaine Smith. London, 1608. A True Reportory of the Wracke, and Redemption of Sir Thomas Gates, Knight. By William Strachey. London, 1610. Good Newes from Virginia. From Alexander Whitaker. London, 1613. The Generall Historie of Virginia, New-England, and the Summer Isles. By Captaine Iohn Smith. London, 1624. Ovids Metamorphosis Englished by G. S. [George Sandys], London, 1626. A Voyage to Virginia. By Colonel Norwood, [n. p. n. d.] [Reprinted : Force's Historical Tracts, Vol. III.] Leah and Rachel, or, the Two Fruitfull Sisters Virginia, and Mary-Land. Bv John Hammond. London, 1656. [Reprinted: Force's Histor- ical Tracts, Vol. III.] A Song of Sion. Written by a Citizen thereof [John Grave], whose outward Habitation is in Virginia. [England.] 1662. History of Virginia. By a Native and Inhabitant of the Place [Robert Beverley]. The second edition. London, 1722. [The first edition (London, 1705) was smaller.] The Present State of Virginia. By Hugh Jones, A.M. London, 1724. [Reprinted : Sabin's Reprints, No. 5.] The Westover Manuscripts : containing the History of the Dividing Line betwixt Virginia and North Carolina; a Journey to the Land ol Eden, a.d. 1733; and a Progress to the Mines. Written from 1728 to 1736, and now first published. By William Byrd, of West- over. Petersburg, 1841. 432 BIBLIOGRAPHY — COLONIAL PERIOD. 433 History of the Dividing Line and Other Tracts. From the Papers of William Byrd. Richmond, 1866. Poems on Several Occasions. By a Gentleman of Virginia. Williams- burg, 1736. The History of the First Discovery and Settlement of Virginia. By William Stith, A.M. Williamsburg, 1747. 2. NEW ENGLAND. A Description of New England ; or, The Observations, and discoueries of Captain Iohn Smith. London, 1616. [Reprinted: Force's His- torical Tracts, Vol. II.] A Relation or Iournall of the beginning and proceedings of the English Plantation setled at Plimoth. [By William Bradford and Edward Winslow.] London, 1622. [Long known as Mourt's Relation. Reprinted : Library of New-England History, No. 1 ; portions of, in Coll. Mass. Hist. Soc, Series 2, Vol. IX.] Bradford's History " Of Ph'moth Plantation." From the Original Manu- script. With a Report of the Proceedings Incident to the Return of the Manuscript to Massachusetts. Boston, 1898. [Also in Coll. Mass. Hist. Soc, Series 4, Vol. III.] New-England. Or A Briefe Enarration of the Ayre, Earth, Water, Fish and Fowles of that Country. With a Description of the Natures, Orders, Habits, and Religion of the Natiues ; in Latine and English Verse. [By William Morrell.] London, 1625. [Reprinted : The Club of Odd Volumes, Boston, 1895, in photographic facsimile from a copy of the first edition in the British Museum ; Coll. Mass. Hist. Soc, Series 1, Vol. I., but with only the Latin title, Nova-Anglia.] A Journal of the Transactions and Occurrences in the settlement of Massachusetts and the other New-England Colonies, from the year 1630 to 1644. Written by John Winthrop, and now first published from a correct copy of the original Manuscript. Hartford, 1790. [Reprinted at Boston, 1825, 1826, as The History of New England. This edition included the third volume of the manuscript, bringing the record down to 1649.] Some Old Puritan Love- Letters — John and Margaret Winthrop — 1618-1638. Edited by J. H. Twichell. New York : Dodd, Mead & Co., 1893. New-Englands Plantation. Written by a reuerend Diuine now there resident [Francis Higginson]. London, 1630. [Reprinted: Force's Historical Tracts, Vol. I.; Coll. Mass. Hist. Soc, Series 1, Vol. 1.1 New Englands Prospect. By William Wood. London, 1634. [Re- printed : Pub. Prince Soc, Vol. I.] New English Canaan. By Thomas Morton. Amsterdam, 1637. [Re- printed: Force's Historical Tracts, Vol. II.; Pub. Prince Soc, Vol. XV.] The Freeman's Oath. [Cambridge.] 1639. [The first thing printed irt America. See Winthrop's The History of New England, Vol. 1., p. 289, ed. 1825.] The Whole Booke of Psalmes Faithfully Translated into English Metre. [Cambridge.] 1640. [Said tc be the first book printed in America, 434 APPENDIX. The copy in the John Carter Brown Library, Providence, has the auto- graph of Richard Mather, one of the three principal translators.] Simplicities Defence against Seven-headed Policy. Or Innocency Vin- dicated, being unjustly Accused ... by that Seven-headed Church- Government united in New-England. [By Samuel Gorton.] London, 1646. The Soules Implantation into the Naturall Olive. By T. H. [Thomas Hooker], London, 1640. The Simple Cobler of Aggavvam in America. Willing to help 'mend his Native Country, lamentably tattered, both in the upper-Leather and sole, with all the honest stitches he can take. By Theodore de la Guard [Nathaniel Ward]. London, 1647. [Reprinted : London, 1647, three editions; Boston, 1713; Force's Historical Tracts, Vol. mo Mercurius Anti-mechanicus. Or The Simple Coblers Boy. By Theo- dore de la Guarden [Nathaniel Ward?]. London, 1648. The Parable of the Ten Virgins opened & applied. By Thomas Shepard. London, 1660. The Psalms, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs of the Old and New Testa- ment, Faithfully Translated into English Metre. For the use, edifi- cation and comfort of the Saints in publick and private, especially in New-England. Cambridge, Printed for Hezekiah Usher, of Bostoo. [1658?] [This work, appearing first in 1651, exists in several slightly different forms. " The only copy of this edition [the one above] that I know of was sold at the Brinley sale for $90, and is now in the library of Brown University." — Sabin's Bibliotheca Americana.] The Tenth Muse lately sprung up in America. Or Severall Poems, compiled with great variety of Wit and Learning, full of delight. By a Gentlewoman in those parts [Anne Bradstreet], London, 1650. Several Poems. By a Gentlewoman in New-England [Anne Bradstreet], The second Edition, Corrected by the Author, and enlarged by an Addition of several other Poems found amongst her Papers after her Death. Boston, 1678. [Reprinted : 1758.] The Works of Anne Bradstreet in Prose and Verse. Edited by J. H. Ellis. Charleston, 1867. [Full biographical introduction.] A History of New-England. From the English planting in the Yeere 1628. untill the Yeere 1652. [By Edward Johnson.] [The running title is " Wonder-working Providence of Sions Saviour, in New Eng- land."] London, 1654. [Reprinted : Coll. Mass. Hist. Soc, Series 2, Vols. II.-VIII.] The Day of Doom ; or, A Description of the Great and Last Judgment. With a short Discourse about Eternity. [By Michael Wigglesworth.] London, 1673. [First edition, 1661 or 1662? Reprinted: Boston, 1715, 1751, 1828; Newburyport, 1811.] Meat out of the Eater : or, Meditations concerning the Necessity, End, and Usefulness of Afflictions unto God's Children. By Michael Wigglesworth. The Fifth Edition. Boston, 1717. [First edition, 1669. On the fly-leaf of the Brown University Library's copy is written in ink, "6 of August 1729 Prise. Jonathan Trask His Book."] A Key into the Language of America: or, An help to the Language of BIBLIOGRAPHY — COLONIAL PERIOD. 435 the Natives in that part of America, called New-England. Together, with briefe Observations of the Customes, Manners and Worships, &c. of the aforesaid Natives. On all which are added Spiritual Ob- servations. By Roger Williams. London, 1643. The Blovdy Tenent, of Persecution, for cause of Conscience, discuss'd, in a Conference betweene Trvth and Peace. [By Roger Williams.] [London.] 1644. [The Brown University Library contains a copy of the very rare second edition, published in the same year.] The Bloudy Tenent Washed, and made white in the bloud of the Lambe. Whereunto is added a Reply to Mr. Williams Answer, to Mr. Cot- tons Letter. By John Cotton. London, 1647. The Bloody Tenent yet More Bloody : by Mr. Cottons endevour to wash it white in the Blood of the Lambe. Also a Letter to Mr Endicot Governor of the Massachusets in N. E. By R. Williams. London, 1652. [On the fly-leaf of the Brown University Library's copy is written in Williams's hand, " For his honoured & beloved M r John Clarke an eminent witness of Christ Jesus agst y e bloodie Doctrine of Persecution &c."] George Fox Digg'd out of his Burrovves. By R. W. [Roger Williams] . Boston, 1676. A New-England Fire-Brand Quenched, Being Something in Answer unto a Lying, Slanderous Book, Entituled ; George Fox Digged out of his Burrows, &c. Where-unto is added, A Catalogue of his Railery, Lies, Scorn & Blasphemies. By George Fox and John Bvrnyeat. [n. p.] 1678. New-Englands Memoriall. By Nathaniel Morton. Cambridge, 1669. New-Englands Rarities Discovered : in Birds, Beasts, Fishes, Serpents, and Plants. Also a perfect Description of an Indian Sqva, in all her Bravery; with a Poem not improperly conferr'd upon her. By John Josselyn. London, 1672. A Brief History of the Pequot War. By Major John Mason. Boston, 1736. [Written, 1670. Printed (imperfectly) in Relation of the Troubles in New England by Reason of the Indians, by Increase Mather, 1677. Reprinted : Coll. Mass. Hist. Soc, Series 2, Vol. VIII.] A Brief Narrative of the Progress of the Gospel amongst the Indians in New-England. Given in by the Reverend Mr. John Elliot. Lon- don, 1671. The Logick Primer. Composed by J. E. [John Eliot] for the Use of the Praying Indians, [n. p.] 1672. Historical Collections of the Indians in New England. By Daniel Gookin. [First printed, from the original manuscripts, in 1792, in Coll. Mass. Hist. Soc, Series I, Vol. I. Gookin's Epistle Dedica- tory is dated 1674.] Diary of Samuel Sewall, 1674-1729. In Coll. Mass. Hist. Soc, Scries 5, Vols. V.- VII. A Looking Glass for the Times. By Peter Folger. Printed in the Year 1763. [Reprinted: R. I. Historical Tracts, No. 10. Dated April 26, ibjb, but probably not printed before 1763.] An Elegie upon tin- 1 >eath of the Reverend Mr. Thomas Shepard. [By Urian Oakes.] Cambridge, 1677. [Reprinted : The Club of Odd 436 APPENDIX. Volumes, Boston, 1896. Supposed to be the earliest poem both written and printed in America.] A Narrative of the Troubles with the Indians in New- England. By W. Hubbard. Boston, 1677. [Reprinted: London, 1677 ; Boston, 1775; Worcester, 1801 ; Norwich, 1802; Stockbridge, 1803; Danbury, 1803; Brattleborough, 1814; Roxbury, 1865. Usually referred to by the title of the later editions, A Narrative of the Indian Wars.] The Soveraignty & Goodness of God, a Narrative of the Captivity and Restauration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson. The Second Addition. Written by Her Own Hand. Cambridge, 1682. No copy of the first edition (1682?) is known to be extant. [Reprinted: London, 1682 ; and many times since.] Ko/uT^Toypcu/ua. Or A Discourse Concerning Comets ; Wherein the Na- ture of Blazing Stars is Enquired into. As also two Sermons, Occa- sioned by the late Blazing Stars. By Increase Mather. Boston, 1683. An Essay for the Recording of Illustrious Providences. By Increase Mather. Boston, 1684. A Further Account of the Tryals of the New-England Witches. By Increase Mather, President of Harvard Colledge. London, 1693. A Poem dedicated to the Memory of the Reverend and Excellent Mr. Urian Oakes. Boston in New-England, 1682. [Reprinted : The Club of Odd Volumes, Boston, 1896. The poem is signed " N. R.," but is supposed to be by Cotton Mather, who would take peculiar pleasure in the ingenious pleasantry of signing the last letters of his name instead of the first. Nathaniel Mather, in a letter to Increase Mather, speaks of receiving a letter from him, dated 1682, and with it a sermon by Mr. Oakes and "two of your son's Poems on him"; the Brown University Library's copy (said to be unique) has N. Mather's autograph at the bottom of the last page.] An Elegy on The Much-to-be-deplored Death of That Never-to-be- forgotten Person, The Reverend Mr. Nathaniel Collins. [By Cotton Mather.] Boston, 1685. [Reprinted: The Club of Odd Volumes, Boston, 1896.] Late Memorable Providences Relating to Witchcrafts and Possessions, clearly Manifesting, not only that there are Witches, but that Good Men (as well as others) may possibly have their Lives shortned by such evil Instruments ot Satan. By Cotton Mather. London, 1691. The Wonders of the Invisible World. Observations upon the Nature, the Number, and the Operations of the Devils. By Cotton Mather. Boston, 1693. More Wonders of the Invisible World. Collected by Robert Calef. London, 1700. [An attack upon the belief in witchcraft.] Brontologia Sacra : the Voice of the Glorious God in the Thunder. Especially intended for an Entertainment in the Hours of Thunder. [By Cotton Mather.] London, 1695. Pillars of Salt. A History of some Criminals executed in this Land. With some of their Dying Speeches. [By Cotton Mather.] Boston, 1699. Magnalia Christi Americana: or, the Ecclesiastical History of New- England, from its First Planting in the Year 1620. unto the Year of BIBLIOGRAPHY— COLONIAL PERIOD. 437 our Lord, 1698. In Seven Books. By the Reverend and Learned Cotton Mather, M.A. London, 1702. A. Treacle fetch'd oul of a Viper. A Brief Essay jipon Fulls into Sins. [By Cotton Mather.] Boston, 1707. Bonifacius. An Essay upon the Good. [By Cotton Mather.] Boston, 1710, [Same as Essays to Do Good.] A Christian Funeral. What should be the Behaviour of a' Christian at a Funeral? [ByCotton Mather.] Boston, 171:5. The Religion of an Oath. Plain Directions How the Duty of Swearing, May be Safely Managed. [ByCotton Mather.] Boston, 1719. The Christian Philosopher: A Collection of the Best Discoveries in Mature, with Religious [mprovements. ByCotton Mather, D.D. and Fellow of the Royal Society. London, 1731. The Nightingale. An Essayon Songs among Thorns. Or the Supports & Comforts of the Afflicted Believer. [By Cotton Mather.] Bos- ton, 1724. Boanerges. A short Essay to preserve and strengthen the Good Tiru pressions Produced by Earthquakes. [By Cotton Mather.] Boston, 1727. The Life of the Very Reverend and Learned Cotton Mather, D.D. and F.R.S. By Samuel Mather, M.A. Boston, 1729. The [ournals oi Madam Knight, and Rev. Mr. Buckingham. From the Original Manuscripts, Written in 1704 and 1710. New- York, 1825. The Redeemed C;iptive, Returning to Zion. [By John Williams.] Boston, 1707. A Poem on Elijahs Translation, oe.easion'd by the Death of the Rev. Mr. Samuel willard. By Mr. Colman, V.D.M. Boston, 1707. The Origin of toe Whalebone-petticoat. A Satyr. Boston, 1714. Hoop Petti CO at S, Arraigned and Condemned by the Ligtll of Nature and Law of God. Boston. [1726.] The Churches Quarrel Espoused. By John Wise. Boston, 1710. A Vindication of the Government of New-England Churches. By John Wise. Boston, 1717. Entertaining Passages Relating to Philip's War. Jty T. C. [Thomas Church], Boston, 1716. [Reprinted: Boston, 17x6; Newport, 1772; many times in this century.] Poetical Meditations, being the Improvement of some Vacant Moms. By Roger Woleott. New London, I725. [Reprinted: The princi- pal poem, in Coll. Mass. Hist. Soe., Series 1, Vol. IV.; The Club of odd Volumes, Boston, [898.] The History of the Wars of New-England, With the Eastern Indians. By Samuel Penhallow. Boston, 179 A Poem on the I )eath of I [is late Majesty King George, and the Acces- sion of King George [I. By Mr. Byles. [Boston, 1727.] A Poem Presented to His Excellency William Burnet, Esq.; on his Arrival at Boston, July [9, [738. By Mr. Byles. [n. p. n. d.] Father Abbey's Will; to which Is added A Letter oi Courtship to his Virtuous and Amiable Widow. [By John Seeeoml).] Cambridge, 1731. [Reprinted: The Will in The* Gentleman's Magazine, May, 1732O 438 APPENDIX. Chronological History of New England. By Thomas Prince, MA Boston, 1736. An Historical Discourse on the Civil and Religious Affairs of the Colony of Rhode Island and Providence Plantations. By John Callender. Boston, 1739. [Reprinted: Coll. R.I. Hist. Soc, Vol. IV.] Memoirs of the Life and Death of Mrs. Jane Turell. London, 1741. [Includes some of her poems and prose pieces.] A Collection of Poems. By several Hands. Boston, 1744. Poems. By [Rev.] John Adams, M.A. Boston, 1745. A Brief and Plain Essay on God's Wonder-working Providence for New England. By Samuel Niles. New London, 1747. Entertainment for a Winter's Evening. By Me, the Hon. B. B. Esq* [Joseph Green]. Boston. [1750.] Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God. A Sermon. By Jonathan Edwards. Boston, 1741. A Careful and Strict Enquiry into the Modern prevailing Notions of that freedom of Will, which is supposed to be essential to Moral Agency, Vertue and Vice. By Jonathan Edwards. Boston, 1754. A Summary, Historical and Political, of the First Planting, Progressive Improvements, and Present State of the British Settlements in North- America. By William Douglass, M.D. Boston and London, 1755. The Choice: a Poem. [By Benjamin Church.] Boston, 1757. [Re- printed : Coll. Mass. Hist. Soc, Series 1, Vol. I.] The Conquest of Louisbourg. A Poem. By John Maylem, Philo- Bellum. [Boston, 1758.] Gallic Perfidy: A Poem. By John Maylem, Philo-Bellum. Boston 1758. I*ietas et Gratulatio Collegii Cantabrigiensis apud Novanglos. Bostoni -Massachusettensium. Typis J. Green & J. Russell. 1761. 3. THE OTHER COLONIES. A Character of the Province of Mary-Land. Also a small Treatise on the wilde and naked Indians. By George Alsop. London, 1666. The Sot-weed Factor : Or, a Voyage to Maryland. A Satyr. In Bur- lesque Verse. By Eben Cook, Gent. London, 1708. [Reprinted: Shea's Early Southern Tracts, No. II.] Sotweed Redivivus; Or the Planters Looking-Glass. In Burlesque Verse. By E. C. Gent. Annapolis, 1730. A Brief Description of New York. By Daniel Denton. London, 1670. [Reprinted : Gowan's Bibliotheca Americana, 1845.] History of the Five Indian Nations. By Cadwallader Colden. New York, 1727. A General Idea of the College of Mirania. By William Smith. New- York, 1753. The History of the Province of New- York. By William Smith. Lon- don, 1757. h. New Description of that Fertile and Pleasant Province of Carolina, By John Archdale: Late Governor of the Same. London, 1707, [Reprinted : Hist. Coll. So. Car., Vol. II.] BIBLIOGRAPHY — REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 439 The History of Carolina. By John Lawson. London, 1709. Eliza Pinckney. (Women of Colonial and Revolutionary Times.) New York, 1896. [Contains her letters.] A New Voyage to Georgia. By a Young Gentleman. London, 1735. [Reprinted : Ga. Hist. Coll., Vol. II.] A True and Historical Narration of the Colony of Georgia. By Pat. Tailfer, M.D., Hugh Anderson, M.A., Da. Douglas, and Others. Charleston, S. C, 1741. [Reprinted : Ga. Hist. Coll., Vol. II.] The Life of William Penn : with selections from his Correspondence and Autobiography. By Samuel M. Janney. Second edition, re- vised. Philadelphia, 1852. An Historical and Geographical Account of the Province and Country of Pensilvania ; and of West-New-Jersey in America. By Gabriel Thomas. London, 1698. [Lithographic facsimile, 1848, done for H. A. Brady of the N. Y. Hist. Soc] God's Protecting Providence : Evidenced in the Remarkable Deliverance of divers persons from the Devouring Waves of the Sea, and, also, from the more Cruelly Devouring Jawes of the inhumane Cannibals of Florida. By Jonathan Dickenson. Philadelphia, 1699. Batchelor's-Hall. A Poem. By George Webb. [Philadelphia.] 1731. Cato's Moral Distichs Englished in Couplets. [By James Logan.] Phil- adelphia, 1735. Philosophic Solitude ; or, the Choice of a Rural Life. A Poem. By a Gentleman educated at Yale College [William Livingston]. New York, 1747. Poor Richard, 1733. An Almanack for the Year of Christ, 1733. By Richard Saunders, Philom. Philadelphia: Printed and sold by B. Franklin. [Continued till 1796, but " after 1758 Franklin wrote no more for ' Poor Richard.' " — McMaster's Franklin. The 1758 num- ber contained the famous Father Abraham's Speech.] Experiments and Observations on Electricity. By Mr. Benjamin Frank- lin. London, 1751. The Manners of the Times; a Satire. By Philadelphiensis. Phila- delphia, 1762. The Court of Fancy; a Poem. By Thomas Godfrey. Philadelphia, 1762. Juvenile Poems on Various Subjects. With the Prince of Parthia, a Tragedy. By the late Mr. Thomas Godfrey, Junr., of Philadelphia. To which is prefixed Some Account of the Author and his Writings. Philadelphia, 1765. Poems on Several Occasions. By Nathaniel Evans, A. M. Philadelphia, 1772. II. REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. The Rights of the British Colonies Asserted and Proved. By James Otis. Boston, 1764. [Reprinted : London, 1765, 1766.] Ponteach: or the Savages of America. A Tragedy. [By Robert Rogers?] London, 1766. liberty, Property and no Excise, A Poem compos'd on Occasion of 440 APPENDIX. the Sight seen on the Great Trees, (so called) in Boston, New- England, on the 14th of August, 1765. [Boston.] 1765. (Price 6 Cop.) A. New Collection of Verses applied to the First of November, A.D. 1765. Together with a poetical Dream, concerning Stamped Papers. New-Haven. [1765.] The Disappointment ; or the Force of Credulity. By Andrew Barton. New York, 1767. Letters from a Farmer in Pennsylvania, to the Inhabitants of the British Colonies. [By John Dickinson.] Boston. [1768.] [Reprinted : Phila- delphia, 1768, 1769, 1774; Boston, 1768; New York, 1768 ; Williams- burg, 1769; London, 1768, 1774; Dublin, 1768; Paris, 1769 (French translation).] An Address to a Provincial Bashaw. By a Son of Liberty [Benjamin Church] . Printed in (the Tyrannic Administration of St. Francisco [Gov. Francis Bernard] ) , 1769. [Boston.] The Examination of Doctor Benjamin Franklin, before an August As- sembly, relating to the Repeal of the Stamp-Act. [Philadelphia?] 1766. [Reprinted : London, 1767.] Philosophical and Miscellaneous Papers. Lately written by B. Frank- lin, LL.D. London, 1787. Poems on Various Subjects. By Phillis Wheatley, Negro Servant to Mr. John Wheatley, of Boston, in New England. London, 1773. The Adulateur. A Tragedy, as it is now acted in Upper Servia. [By Mercy Warren.] Boston, 1773. The Ladies' Philosophy of Love. A Poem, in four Cantos. Written in 1774. By Charles Stearns, A.B. Leominster, Mass., 1797. The Story of ^Eneas and Dido burlesqued. Charlestown, [S. C], 1774. A Pretty Story. By Peter Grievous, Esq., A.B.C.D.E. [Francis Hopkin- son]. Philadelphia, 1774. [Reprinted: Philadelphia, 1774; Wil- liamsburg, 1774 ; New York, 1857, 1864.] The Miscellaneous Essays and Occasional Writings of Francis Hop- kinson. Philadelphia, 1792. [3 vols.] Memoirs of the Life of Josiah Quincy, Jun., by his Son, Josiah Quincy. Boston, Cummings, Hilliard, & Company, 1825. [Contains his jour- nals, letters, and Observations on the Boston Port-Bill.] Free Thoughts on the Proceedings of the Continental Congress. By a Farmer. Hear me, for I WILL speak ! [By Samuel Seabury?] New York, 1774. [Reprinted : London, 1775. The first of the " Westchester Farmer's Letters."] A Full Vindication of the Measures of the Congress, from the Calum- nies of their Enemies ; In Answer to a Letter, under the Signature of A. W. Farmer, Whereby His Sophistry is exposed, his Cavils con- futed, his Artifices detected, and his Wit ridiculed. [By Alexander Hamilton.] New-York, 1774. The Farmer Refuted. [By Alexander Hamilton.] New York, 1775. The Group, a Farce. [By Mercy Warren.] Jamaica, Printed ; Phila- delphia, Re-printed ; 1775. The Patriots of North America. New- York, 1775. [An anonymous Tory poem of much vigor.] BIBLIOGRAPHY — REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 441 Massachusettensis. [By Daniel Leonard.] [Boston, 1775.] [Reprinted: New York, 1775 ; London, 1776, four editions.] A Cure for the Spleen. Or Amusement for a Winter's Evening; being the Substance of a Conversation on the Times, over a Friendly Tankard and Pipe. Taken in short Hand, by Sir Roger de Coverly. America, 1775. [Reprinted : New York, n. d.] The Works of John Woolman. London, 1775. [Contains his Journal. The Journal was reprinted in 1873, with an introduction by Whittier.] An Elegy on the Times. [By John Trumbull.] Boston, 1774. [Re- printed : New Haven, 1775.] The Progress of Dulness. [By John Trumbull.] New Haven. [Part I., 1772; Parts II. and III., 1773.] McFingal. A Modern Epic Poem. Or, the Town-Meeting. [By John Trumbull.] Philadelphia, 1775. [Reprinted : London, 1776.I M'Fingal : A Modern Epic Poem, in Four Cantos. [By John Trum- bull.] Hartford, 1782. [Reprinted: Boston, 1785, 1799, 1826; Philadelphia, 1791, 1839; London, 1792; New York, 1795, 1864; Wrentham, 1801 ; Baltimore, 1812; Albany, 1813; Hudson, 1816; Hartford, 1856. The text of 1782 differs considerably from that of 1775. The division into cantos is a new feature; many minor changes in diction have been made, and couplets inserted here and there ; the last 22 lines of Canto I., and the first 104 lines of Canto II., are new, as are of course the whole of Cantos III. and IV.] The Poetical Works of John Trumbull, LL.D. In Two Volumes. Hartford, 1820. [Contains memoir.] Common Sense : Addressed to the Inhabitants of America. [By Thomas Paine.] Philadelphia, 1776. [Reprinted : 1776, Philadelphia, Boston, New York, Newport, Newburyport, Norwich, Salem, Lancaster, Provi- dence, London, Edinburgh, Newcastle-upon-Tyne; and again and again since.] The Blockheads : or, the Affrighted Officers. A Farce. Boston, 1776. The Battle of Brooklyn. A Farce in two acts. New York, 1776 [Reprinted : Brooklyn, 1873, L° n g Island Publications, No. 1.] The Fall of British Tyranny: or American Liberty Triumphant. / Tragi-Comedy of Five Acts. [By John Leacock ?] Philadelphia 1776. The Battle of Bunker's-Hill. A Dramatic Piece, of Five Acts, in Hero*^ Measure. By a Gentleman of Maryland [H. H. Brackenridge] . Philadelphia, 1776. The Death of General Montgomery. By the Author of the Battle of Bunker's-Hill. Philadelphia, 1777. The Motley Assembly, a Farce. Boston, 1779. A Narrative of Colonel Ethan Allen's Captivity. Written by Himself. Price Ten Paper Dollars. Philadelphia, 1779. The American Times. [By Jonathan Odell.] London, 1780. The Old Jersey Captive : or, A Narrative of the Captivity of Thomas Andros on board the Old Jersey Prison Ship at New York, 1781. In a Series of Letters to a Friend. Boston, 1833. A Narrative of the Capture of Henry Laurens, of His Imprisonment in the Tower of London, etc., 1780, 1781, 1782. Charleston, 1857. 442 APPENDIX. The Blockheads ; an Opera, in Two Acts, as it was performed at New York. Printed at New York. London, Reprinted, 1782. Letters from an American Farmer. By J. Hector St. John [Crevecoeur] . London, 1782. [Reprinted: Dublin, 1782; London, 1783; Philadel- phia, 1793, 1798.J Songs and Ballads of the American Revolution. With notes and illus- trations by Frank Moore. New York, 1856. The Loyalist Poetry of the Revolution. Philadelphia, 1857. [Edited by W. Sargent.] America ; A Poem in the Style of Pope's Windsor Forest. [By Timothy Dwight ?] [n. p.] 1772. The Conquest of Canaan. By Timothy Dwight. Hartford, 1785. [Re- printed: London, 1788.] Greenfield Hill. By Timothy Dwight, D.D. New York, 1794. The Prospect of Peace. A Poetical Composition, delivered in Yale- College, at the Public Examination, of the Candidates for the Degree of Bachelor of Arts; July 23, 1778. By Joel Barlow, A.B. New- Haven, 1788. A Poem, spoken at the Public Commencement at Yale College, in New- Haven ; September 12, 1781. [By Joel Barlow.] Hartford, [n. d.] The Vision of Columbus ; a Poem in Nine Books. By Joel Barlow, Esquire. Hartford, 1787. [Reprinted: Hartford, 1787; London, 1787; Paris, 1793; London, 1794; Baltimore, 1814, 1816; Hagers- town, Md., 1820; Centreville, la., 1824.] A Letter to the National Convention of France, on the Defects in the Constitution of 1791. By Joel Barlow, [n. p. n. d.] The Conspiracy of Kings ; a Poem. By Joel Barlow. London, 1792. Advice to the Privileged Orders in the several States of Europe. By Joel Barlow. Paris, 1792, 1793. The Hasty- Pudding: A Poem in Three Cantos. Written at Chambery, in Savoy, January, 1793. [By Joel Barlow.] New York, 1796. [Re- printed : New Haven, 1796 ; Stockbridge, 1797 ; Salem, 1799; Hallo- well, 1815; Brooklyn, 1833; New York, 1847, 1856 (with a " Memoir on Maize ") ; in Harper's Magazine, July, 1856, with illustrations.] The Columbiad. A Poem. By Joel Barlow. Philadelphia, 1807. [In the Brown University Library's copy are corrections, apparently in the author's hand, which are embodied in the later editions. Reprinted : Philadelphia, 1809; London, 1809; Paris, 1813; Washington City, 1825. The Vision of Columbus has 4,776 lines; The Columbiad, 7,332, divided into ten books. Many passages are rewritten, not always for the better (see the description of Hesperus, Book I.), and Book VI. is almost wholly new.] Notice sur la Vie et les Ecrits de M. Joel Barlow. [With a translation into French verse of the first 140 lines of The Columbiad.] [n. p.] 1813. The Anarchiad. Now first published in book form. New Haven, 1861. [By Trumbull, Barlow, Humphreys, and Lemuel Hopkins. First published in The New Haven Gazette, 1786-1787.] A Poem, Addressed to the Armies of the United States of America. By a Gentleman of the Army [David Humphreys]. New Haven, 178a BIBLIOGRAPHY — REVOLUTIONARY PERIOD. 443 [Reprinted: New Haven, 1784; Paris, 1786, with French transla tion in prose ; London, 1785.J A- Poem on the Happiness of America. By D. Humphreys, [n. p.] 1786. [Reprinted: London, 1786.] An Essay on the Life of Israel Putnam. [D. Humphreys.] Hartford, 1788. Poems by Col. David Humphreys. Second Edition. Philadelphia, 1789. The Miscellaneous Works of Colonel [David] Humphreys. New- York, 179c. [Reprinted with additions : New York, 1804.] A Poem, on the Rising Glory of America; being an Exercise delivered at the Public Commencement at Nassau-Hall, September 25, 1771. [By Philip Freneau.] Philadelphia, 1772. Voyage to Boston : A Poem. By Philip Freneau. Philadelphia, 1775. The British Prison-Ship : A Poem, in Four Cantos. To which is added, a Poem on the Death of Capt. N. Biddle, who was blown up, in an Engagement with the Yarmouth, near Barbadoes. [By Philip Freneau.] Philadelphia, 1781. The Poems of Philip Freneau. Written chiefly during the late War. Philadelphia, 1786. [Reprinted: London, 1861, with biographical introduction.] A Journey from Philadelphia to New- York. By Robert Slender, Stock- ing Weaver [Philip Freneau]. Philadelphia, 1787. [Reprinted: Philadelphia, 1809, as A Laughable Poem, etc.] The Miscellaneous Works of Mr. Philip Freneau. Containing his Essays and Additional Poems. Philadelphia, 1788. Poems written between the Years 1768 and 1794. By Philip Freneau. Monmouth, N. J., 1795. The Village Merchant: A Poem. To which is added the Country Printer. [By Philip Freneau.] Philadelphia, 1794. Poems. By Philip Freneau. In Two Volumes. Philadelphia, 1809. [A revised edition of poems written between 1768 and 1793.] A Collection of Poems, on American Affairs, and a Variety of Other Subjects, chiefly Moral and Political ; written between the year 1797 and the present time. By Philip Freneau. In Two Volumes. New York, 1815. Poems relating to the American Revolution. By Philip Freneau. With Memoir and Notes by Evert A. Duyckinck. New York, 1865. The Patriot Chief. A Tragedy. [By Peter Markoe ?] Philadelphia, 1784. Effusions of Female Fancy. Consisting of Elegys, and Other Original Essays in Poetry. New York, 1784. The Lyric Works of Horace, Translated into English Verse : to which are added, A Number of Original Poems. By a Native of America Q. Parke]. Philadelphia, 1786. The Poems of Arouet. [}. B. Ladd.] Charleston, S. C, 1786. The Literary Remains of Joseph Brown Ladd, M.D. To which is pre- fixed, a Sketch of the Author's Life. New York, 1832. The Buds of Beauty ; or, Parnassian Sprigs. By Augustus Chatterton. Baltimore, 1787. Miscellaneous Poems. By Peter Markoe Philadelphia, 1787. 444 APPENDIX. The Times. A Poem. By Peter Markoe. Philadelphia, 1788. The Federalist : A Collection of Essays, written in Favour of the New Constitution. New York, 1788. The Beauties of Religion. A Poem. Addressed to Youth. In Five Books. By Elijah Fitch, A.M. Providence, 1789. Poems Dramatic and Miscellaneous. By Mrs. M. Warren. Boston, 1790. The History of the Province of Massachuset's Bay [from 1628 to 1774]. By Mr. Hutchinson. [Vol. I., Boston, 1764; Vol. II., Boston, 1767; Vol. III., London, 1828.] The History of the Rise, Progress, and Establishment, of the Inde- pendence of the United States of America. By William Gordon, D.D. London, 1788. [4 vols.] The History of the American Revolution. By David Ramsay, M.D. of South Carolina. In Two Volumes. Philadelphia, 1789. [Reprinted : London, 1791, 1793.] History of the Rise, Progress and Termination of the American Revo- lution. By Mrs. Mercy Warren. Boston, 1805. [3 vols.] D. REFERENCE LIST OF BOOKS AND ARTICLES. [Some of the dates are dates of copyright, not of imprint, as access to first . editions was not possible in all cases. " H. & M." stands for " Houghton, Mifflin & Co." The American Men of Letters Series, the American Statesmen Series, and the American Religious Leaders Series are published by that house. The Makers of America Series is published by Dodd, Mead & Co. In general the works are arranged in chronological order under each heading; but the more important editions, biographies, histories, etc., are put first.] GENERAL WORKS. American History. General. — A History of the American People [from the beginning to 1900], by Woodrow Wilson (Harper, 1902; 5 vols.). A Students' History of the United States, by Edward Channing (Macmillan, 1898). History of the United States of America [1783-1865], by James Schouler (Dodd, Mead & Co., 1880-1899; 6 vols.). A History of the People of the United States [1783-1861], by J. B. McMaster (Appleton, 1883-1913; 8 vols.). Narrative and Critical History of America, edited by Justin Winsor (H. & M., 1884-1889; 8 vols.). American History Told by Contemporaries [1492-1900], edited by A. B. Hart (Macmillan, 1897- 1901 ; 4 vols.) . Special Periods. — The American Colonies in the Seventeenth Cen- tury, by H. L. Osgood (Macmillan, 1904). English Colonies in America, by J. A. Doyle (Holt, 1882-1889; 3 vols.). The Discovery of America, by John Fiske (H. & M., 1892; 2 vols.). Old Virginia and her Neigh- bours, by John Fiske (H.&M., 1897; 2 vols.). Virginia, by J. E.Cooke, in American Commonwealths Series (H. & M., 1883). The Beginnings of New England, by John Fiske (H. & M., 1889). The Dutch and Quaker Colonies in America, by John Fiske (H.&M., 1900; 2 vols.). The American Revolution, by John Fiske (H. & M., 1891; 2 vols.). The Critical Period of American History [1783- 1789], by John Fiske (H.&M., 1888). History of the United States [1850- 1877], by J. F. Rhodes (Harper, 1892-1906; 7 vols.). The History of the Last Quarter Century in the United States, by E. B. Andrews (Scribncr, 1896 ; 2 vols.) . 445 446 APPENDIX. Social Conditions. The American People, a Study in National Psychology, by A. M. Low (H. & M., 1909, 1911; 2 vols.). The American Mind, by Bliss Perry (H. & M., 1912). Women of Colonial and Revolutionary Times (Scribner, 1897). Men, Women, and Manners in Colonial Times, by S. G. Fisher (Lippincott, 1897; 2 vols.). Costumes of Colonial Times, by Alice M. Earle (Scribner, 1894). Colonial Dames and Good Wives, by Alice M. Earle (H. & M., 1895). English Culture in Virginia, in Johns Hopkins University Studies in Historical and Political Science, Seventh Series (Baltimore, 1889). To Have and to Hold, by Mary A. Johnston (H. & M., 1900; a novel of the settlement of Virginia). White Aprons, a Romance of Bacon's Rebellion, by Maud W. Goodwin (Little, Brown, & Co., 1896). New England Two Centuries Ago, by J. R. Lowell, in Literary Essays, Vol. II. Customs and Fashions in Old New England, by Alice M. Earle ( Scribner, 1894). The Sabbath in Puritan New England, by Alice M. Earle (Scribner, 1891). Merry- Mount; a Romance of the Massachusetts Colony, by J. L. Motley (Munroe & Co., 1848 ; 2 vols.) . Mary Dyer the Quaker Martyr, by Horatio Rogers (Providence : Preston & Rounds, 1896) . Samuel Sewall and the World he lived in, by N. H. Chamberlain (De Wolfe, Fiske & Co., 1897). Witchcraft, by J. R. Lowell, in Literary Essays, Vol. II. Were the Salem Witches Guiltless? and Some Neglected Character- istics of the New England Puritans, by Barrett Wendell, in Stelligeri (Scribner, 1893). The Black Shilling, by Amelia E. Barr (Dodd ; Mead & Co., 1903; a novel of the Salem witchcraft). The Witchcraft Delu- sion in Colonial Connecticut [1647-1697], by J. M. Taylor (Grafton Press, 1908). Colonial Days in Old New York, by Alice M. Earle (Scribner, 1896). The Half Moon Series, Papers on Historic New York (Putnam. 1897-1898). Richard Carvel, by Winston Churchill (Macmillan, 1899), Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker, by S. W. Mitchell (Century Co., 1897), and Janice Meredith, by P. L. Ford (Macmillan, 1899) ; novels of the American Revolution. Cambridge Thirty Years Ago [Le., 1824], by J. R. Lowell, in Literary Essays, Vol. I. Old Cam- bridge, by T. W. Higginson (Macmillan, 1899). A History of the Uni- tarians in the United States, by J. H. Allen, in American Church History Series, Vol. X. (New York: Christian Literature Co., 1894). Tran- scendentalism in New England, by O. B. Frothingham (Putnam, 1876). New England Reformers, by R. W. Emerson, in Works, Vol. III. His- toric Notes of Life and Letters in New England, by R. W. Emerson, in Works, Vol. X. (the Transcendental movement). The American Scholar, by R. W. Emerson, in Works, Vol. I. The Transcendentalism by R. W. Emerson, in Works, Vol. I. The Sunny Side of Transcen- dentalism, in Part of a Man's Life, by T. W. Higginson (H. & M., 1905). Brook Farm, by Lindsay Swift (Macmillan, 1900). Reminiscences of Brook Farm, by G. P. Bradford, Century Magazine, November, 1892, REFERENCE LIST OF BOOKS AND ARTICLES. 447 The Old South, Essays Social and Political, by T. N. Page (Scribner, 1892). Southern Sidelights, by Edward Ingle (Crowell, 1896; No. X., in Library of Economics and Politics, edited by R. T. Ely). The Peculiarities of the South, by Professor N. S. Shaler, North American Review, October, 1890. History of American Literature. General. — The Cambridge History of American Literature, edited by W. P. Trent, John Erskine, S. P. Sherman, and Carl Van Doren (Put- nam; Vol. I., 1917; to be complete in 3 vols.). A Literary History of America [1600-1900], by Barrett Wendell (Scribner, 1900). American Literature, 1607-1885, by C. F. Richardson (Putnam, 1887, 1889; 2 vols.; popular edition, 1 vol.). American Literature: an Historical Sketch, 1620-1880, by John Nichol, professor in the University of Glasgow (A. &C. Black, 1882). Special Periods and Sections. — A History of American Literature, 1607- 1765, by M. C. Tyler (Putnam, 1878; 2 vols.; Agawam edition, 1 vol.). The Literary History of the American Revolution, 1763-1783, by M. C. Tyler (Putnam, 1897; 2 vols.). A History of American Lit- erature since 1870 [really from 1865 to 1900] , by F. L. Pattee (Century Co., 1915). Writers of Knickerbocker New York, by H. W. Mabie (Grolier Club, 1912). A History of Southern Literature, by Carl Holli- day (Neale Publishing Co., 1906). Literary Emancipation of the West, by Hamlin Garland, Forum, October, 1893. The Hoosiers, by Meredith Nicholson (Macmillan, 1900). The Literary Development of the Pacific Coast, by Herbert Bashford, Atlantic Monthly, July, 1903. Biographical. — A Critical Dictionary of English Literature and British and American Authors, by S. A. Allibone (Lippincott, 1858- 1871; 4 vols.) ; Supplement, by J. F. Kirk (1891; 2 vols.). Appleton's Cyclopaedia of American Biography, edited by J. G. Wilson and John Fiske (Appleton, 1886-1889; 6 vols.). A Dictionary of American Authors, by O. F. Adams (H. & M., 1897; enlarged edition, 1905). American Bookmen, by M. A. DeWolfe Howe (Dodd, Mead & Co., 1898). Bryant and his Friends, by J. G. Wilson (Ford, Howard & Hulbert, 1886 ; reminiscences, etc., of Bryant, Paulding, Irving, Dana, Cooper, Halleck, Drake, Willis, Poe, Taylor, and minor " Knicker- bockers"). Personal Recollections of Notable People, by C. K. Tuck- erman (Dodd, Mead & Co., 1895; 2 vols.; Vol. I., Chaps. I.-IIL, Boston and New York Men of Letters). Recollections of a Literary Life, by Mary R. Mitford (London, 1852; 3 vols. ; Chap. VI., American Poets). Biographical Notes and Personal Sketches, by J. T. Fields (H. & M., 1881; reminiscences and letters of American authors). Au- thors and Friends, by Mrs. J. T. Fields (H. & M., 1896; recollections of Longfellow, Emerson, Holmes, Mrs. Stowe, Whittier, etc.). Rec- ollections of Eminent Men, by E. P. Whipple (Ticknor & Co., 1887; Choate, Agassiz, Emerson, Motley, Sumner, Ticknor) . Essays from the 448 APPENDIX. Easy Chair, by G. W. Curtis (Harper, 1892-1894; 3 series; Everett, Emerson, Thoreau, Phillips, Bryant, Beecher, Hawthorne, and Brook Farm). Chapters from a Life, by Elizabeth S. Phelps (H. & M., 1896; reminiscences of Mrs. Stowe, Longfellow, Whittier, Holmes, etc.). Cheerful Yesterdays, by T. W. Higginson (H. & M., 1899; reminis- cences of many men of letters). Reminiscences, by Julia Ward Howe (H. & M., 1899). Homes of American Authors, comprising Anecdoti- cal, Personal, and Descriptive Sketches, by G. W. Curtis and others (Putnam, 1852). Little Journeys to the Homes of American Authors, by Curtis, Hillard, Bryant, etc. (Putnam, 1896). Homes and Haunts of our Elder Poets, by R. H. Stoddard, F. B. Sanborn, and H. N. Powers (Appleton, 1881). Poetry. — Poets of America, by E. C. Stedman (H. & M., 1885). The Poetry and Poets of America, by J. C. Collins, in Studies in Poetry and Criticism (Bell, 1905). Representative Southern Poets, by C. W. Hub- ner (Neale Publishing Co., 1906). Southern Poets of To-day, by Carl Holliday, South Atlantic Quarterly, January, 1910. Tendencies in Mod- ern American Poetry, by Amy Lowell (Macmillan, 1917) . Present Day American Poetry, by H. H. Peckham (Badger, 1917). The "New Poetry," New Republic, June 26, 1915, March 4, 1916; Nation, Oct. 14, 1915 ; Craftsman, July, 1916 ; Dial, Feb. 22, 1917. The Drama. — History of the American Theatre, by G. O. Seilhamer (F. P. Harper, 1896; 3 vols.). A Dictionary of the Drama, by W. D. Adams (Philadelphia, 1904). The First Play in America, Nation, Jan. 28, 1909. The American Drama, by Augustin Daly, North American Review, May, 1886. The Stage in America, 1897- 1900, by Norman Hapgood (Macmillan, 1901). Iconoclasts, a Book of Dramatists, by James Huneker (Scribner, 1905). The American Drama Revisited, by William Archer, Independent, June 27, 1907. The Playhouse and the Play, by Percy MacKaye (Macmillan, 1909). The American Drama- tist, by M. J. Mosas (Little, 1911). On the Art of the Theatre, by Gordon Craig (Browne's Bookstore, 1911). The Civic Theatre, by Percy MacKaye (Kennerly, 1912). The New Spirit in Drama and Art, by Huntly Carter (Kennerly, 1912). The New American Drama, by Richard Burton (Crowell, 1913). Towards a New Theatre, by Gordon Craig (Dutton, 1913; forty of Craig's designs). Aspects of Modern Drama, by F. W. Chandler (Macmillan, 1914). Studies in Stagecraft, by Clayton Hamilton (Holt, 1914; Chap. XX., The One- Act Play in America) . The Changing Drama, by Archibald Henderson (Holt, 1914). The Case of the American Drama, by T. H. Dickinson (H. & M., 1915). Play Production in America, by A. E. Krows (Holt, 1916). The Art Theatre, by Sheldon Cheney (Knopp, 1917). The In- surgent Theatre, by T. H. Dickinson (Huebsch, 1917). English Pag- eantry, an Historical Outline, Vol. I., by Robert Withington (Harvard University Press, 1918; Vol. II. will include a discussion of pageants in the United States). REFERENCE LIST OF BOOKS AND ARTICLES. 449 The Novel. —The Early American Novel, by L. D. Loshe (Lemcke, 1907) . The American Historical Novel, by P. L. Ford, Atlantic Monthly, December, 1897. American Novels, Quarterly Review, January, 1883. American Fiction, Edinburgh Review, January, 1891, and April, 1898. Leading American Novelists, by John Erskine (Holt, 1910). Some American Story Tellers, by F. T. Cooper (Holt, 1911). The Advance of the English Novel, by W. L. Phelps (Dodd, Mead & Co., 1916). On Contemporary Literature, by S. P. Sherman (Holt, 1917). Some Modern Novelists, by Helen T. and Wilson Follett (Holt, 1918). Special Topics. — Americanism in Literature, in Atlantic Essays, by T. W. Higginson (Osgood, 1874). Our Literature, by J. R. Lowell, in Literary and Political Addresses. The Spirit of American Literature, by J. A. Macy (Doubleday & McClure, 1913) . The National Element in Southern Literature, by J. B. Henneman, Sewanee Review, July, 1903. The Reconstruction of Southern Literary Thought, by H. N. Snyder, South Atlantic Quarterly, April, 1902. The Influence of De- mocracy on Literature ; and Has America produced a Poet? in Ques- tions at Issue, by Edmund Gosse (Appleton, 1893). Yankee Humour, Quarterly Review, January, 1867. American Humour, in Lost Leaders, by Andrew Lang (Paul, Trench & Co., 1892). Dialect in Literature, by James Whitcomb Riley, Forum, December, 1892). The Clergy in American Life and Letters, by D. D. Addison (Macmillan, 1900). Some Phases of the Supernatural in American Literature, by A. H. Quinn, Publications of the Modern Language Association, March, 1910 (Baltimore). The History of Historical Writing in America, by J. F. Jameson (H. & M., 1891). The Development of the Love of Romantic Scenery in America, by Mary E. Woolley, American Historical Review, October, 1897. French Criticism of American Literature before 1850, by H. E. Mantz (Columbia University Press, 1917). Bibliographical. — American Authors [1795-1895], a Bibliography of First and Notable Editions, by P. K. Foley (Publishers' Printing Co., 1897). American Bibliography, a Chronological Dictionary of All Books, Pamphlets, and Periodical Publications Printed in the United States of America from 1639 to 1820 (Chicago, 1913-1914; 8 vols.; not yet completed). Chronological Outlines of American Literature, by S. L. Whitcomb (Macmillan, 1894). Collections of Writings. A Library of American Literature [1608-1889], edited by E. C. Sted- man and E. M. Hutchinson (Webster & Co., 1887-1890; 11 vols.; Vol. XI. has brief biographies). American Poems, 1625-1892, edited and annotated by W. C. Bronson (University of Chicago Press, 1912). American Prose, 1607-1865, edited and annotated by W. C. Bronson (University of Chicago Press, 1916). Library of Southern Literature, edited by E. A. Alderman and others (Martin, 1908-1916; 16 vols.). 450 APPENDIX. A Library of Poetry and Song, with an Introduction by W. C. Bryant (Ford & Co., 1871). The Golden Treasury of American Songs and Lyrics, edited by F. L. Knowles (Page & Co., 1898). American Son- nets, selected and edited by T. W. Higginson and E. H. Bigelow (H. & M., 1890). American War Ballads and Lyrics [colonial wars to Civil War], edited by G. C. Eggleston (Putnam, 1889; Knickerbocker Nug- gets Series; 2 vols.). Poetry, Lyrical, Narrative, and Satirical, of the Civil War, selected and edited by R. G. White (American News Co., 1866). Songs and Ballads of the Southern People, 1861-1865, by Frank Moore (Appleton, 1886). Younger American Poets [1830-1890] , edited by D. Sladen, with an Appendix of Younger Canadian Poets, edited by G.B.Roberts (Cassell, 1891). Some Imagist Poets, 1915, 1916, 1917 (H. & M.). The New-Poetry, an Anthology, edited by Harriet Monroe and Alice Corbin (Macmillan, 1917). Representative American Plays, edited by A. H. Quinn (Century Co., 1917; twenty-five plays, 1767- 191 1). The Provincetown Plays, First and Second Series (Shay, 1916). Washington Square Plays (Doubleday, 1916). Representative Ameri- can Orations [1775-1881], edited by Alexander Johnston, reedited by J. A. Woodburn (Putnam, 1896, 1897; 4 vols.). Narratives of the Indian Wars, 1675-1699, edited by C. H. Lincoln (Scribner, 1913). INDIVIDUAL AUTHORS. John Adams. — Works, with a life, by C. F. Adams (Little, Brown, & Co., 1856; 10 vols.). Familiar Letters of John Adams and his Wife, edited by C. F. Adams (H.& M., 1875). Life, by J. T. Morse, Jr., in American Statesmen Series, 1885. John Adams, with Other Essays and Addresses, by Mellen Chamberlain (H. & M., 1898). Samuel Adams. — Life and Public Services, with Extracts from his Correspondence, State Papers, and Political Essays, by W. V. Wells (Little, Brown, & Co., 1865 ; 3 vols.) . Life, by J. K. Hosmer, in Ameri- can Statesmen Series, 1885. A. Bronson Alcott. — Concord Days (Roberts Bros., 1872). Table Talk (Roberts Bros., 1877). New Connecticut, an Autobiographical Poem (Roberts Bros., 188 1). His Life and Philosophy, by F. B. San- born and W. T. Harris (Roberts Bros., 1893; 2 vols.). T. B. Aldrich. — Works, Ponkapog Edition (H. & M., 1907 ; 9 vols.). Poems, Revised and Complete Household Edition (H. & M., 1907). Life, by Ferris Greenslet (H. & M., 1908; has bibliography). Park- Street Papers, by Bliss Perry (H. & M., 1908). Shelburne Essays, Sev- enth Series, by P. E. More (Putnam, 1910). George Bancroft. — History of the United States (Appleton, 1885; 6 vols.). Joel Barlow. — Life and Letters, by C. B. Todd (Putnam, 1886). Three Men of Letters, by M. C. Tyler (Putnam, 1895). REFERENCE LIST OF BOOKS AND ARTICLES. 451 H. W. Deecher. — Patriotic Addresses, 1850-1885 (Fords, Howard & Hulbert, 1887). Biography, by W. C. Beecher (Bromfield, 1889). G. H. Doker. — Plays and Poems (Lippincott, 1891; third edition). William Bradford. — History of Plymouth Plantation, edited by W.T. Davis (Scribner, 1908) ; edited by W. C. Ford (H. & M., 1912). Anne Bradstreet. — Anne Bradstreet and her Time, by Helen Camp- bell (Lothrop, 1891). C. B. Brown. — Novels (McKay, 1887; 6 vols.). Life, by William Dunlap (Philadelphia, 1815; 2 vols.). Memoir, by W. H. Prescott, in Biographical and Critical Miscellanies, Vol. IV. (Lippincott, 1845; reprinted from Sparks's American Biography, 1834). North American Review, June, 1819. Fortnightly Review, Sept. 1, 1878. Carlyle's Laugh and Other Surprises, by T. W. Higginson (H. & M., 1909). Leading American Novelists, by John Erskine (Holt, 1910). C. F. Browne (" Artemus Ward"). — Complete Works (Dilling- ham &Co., 1898). W. C. Bryant. — Life and Works, edited by Parke Godwin (Apple- ton, 1883-1884; 6 vols.: 1, 2, biography; 3, 4, poetical works with copious notes; 5, 6, prose writings). Poetical Works, Roslyn Edition (Appleton, 1903; has bibliography). Translation of the Iliad and the Odyssey (H. & M., 1870, 1871). Life, by John Bigelow, in American Men of Letters Series, 1890. Life, by W. A. Bradley, in English Men of Letters Series (Macmillan, 1905). Recollections Personal and Liter- ary, by R. H. Stoddard (Barnes, 1903). Orations and Addresses, Vol. III., by G. W. Curtis (Harper, 1894). Commemorative Addresses, by Parke Godwin (Harper, 1895). Proceedings at the Centennial Cele- bration, August, 1894, at Cummington (Bryant Centennial Committee, Cummington, Mass.). North American Review, April, 1832. Edin- burgh Review, April, 1835. Works of E. A. Poe, Virginia Edition, Vols. VIII.-X., XIII. (Crowell, 1902; articles in the Southern Literary Messenger, etc., 1835-1846). John Burroughs. — Writings (H. & M., 1904-1913; 17 vols.). A Day with, Craftsman, August, 1905. New England Nature Studies, Edinburgh Review, October, 1908. J. C. Calhoun. — Works, edited by R. K. Cralle (Appleton, 1851- 1856; 6 vols.; reprint, 1888). Life, by H. von Hoist, in American Statesmen Series, 1883. Statesmen of the Old Regime, by W. P. Trent (Crowell, 1897). Statesmen of the Old South, by W. E. Dodd (Mac- millan, 191 1). Democracy of the Constitution, and Other Addresses and Essays, by H. C. Lodge (Scribner, 1915). Alice and Phoebe Gary. — Poetical Works (H. & M., 1876, 1884). W. E. Channing. — Complete Works (Boston, American Unitarian Association, 1886). Memoir, by W. H. Channing (Boston: Crosby & Nichols, 1848; 3 vols.). Memorial and Biographical Sketches, by J. F.Clarke (H. & M., 1878). Rufus Choate. — Addresses and Orations (Little, Brown, & Co., 1878) . 452 APPENDIX. Winston Churchill.— Atlantic Monthly, March, 1900. Critic, August, 1904. North American Review, September, 1906. Bookman, May, 1910. Some American Story Tellers, by F. T. Cooper (Holt, 1911). Outlook, Aug. 9, 1913. Henry Clay. — Works, edited by Calvin Colton (Putnam, 1904; 10 vols.). Life, by Carl Schurz, in American Statesmen Series, 1887 (2 vols.). S. L. Clemens (" Mark Twain "). — Writings, Author's National Edi- tion (Harper, 1915; 25 vols.). The Mysterious Stranger (Harper, 1916). Letters, edited by A. B. Paine (Harper, 1917; 2 vols.). Life, by A. B. Paine (Harper, 1912; 3 vols.). Bibliography, by Archibald Henderson (Stokes, 1911). My Mark Twain, by W. D. Howells (Harper, 1910). North American Review, December, 1910. Great American Writers, by W. P. Trent and John Erskine (Holt, 1912). The Spirit of Ameri- can Literature, by J. A. Macy (Doubleday, 1913). On Contemporary Literature, by S. P. Sherman (Holt, 1917). J. F. Cooper. — Novels, Mohawk Edition (Putnam, 1896; 32 vols.). Novels, Library Edition (Appleton, 1886-1899; 32 vols.). Life, by T. R. Lounsbury, in American Men of Letters Series, 1882 (has bibliog- raphy). Commemorative Discourse, by W. C. Bryant, in Prose Writ- ings, Vol. I. Edinburgh Review, April, 1835. Fenimore Cooper et Walter Scott, by Balzac, La Revue Parisienne, July 25, 1840. Views and Reviews, by W. G. Simms (Wiley and Putnam, 1845). Francis Parkman, North American Review, January, 1852. His Literary Offences, in How to Tell a Story and Other Essays, by Mark Twain (Harper, 1897). E. C. Stedman, North American Review, August, 1907. Brander Matthews, Atlantic Monthly, September, 1907. J. Hector St. John Crevecceur. — Letters from an American Farmer, edited by W. B. Blake (Dutton, 1913; Everyman's Library). G. W. Curtis. — Orations and Addresses, edited by C. E. Norton (Harper, 1894; 3 vols.). Life, by Edward Cary, in American Men of Letters Series, 1894. R. H. Dana. — Poems and Prose writings (Baker & Scribner, 1857; 2 vols.). Emily Dickinson. — Poems (Roberts Bros., 1891 ; second series, 1892; third series, 1896). Letters (Roberts Bros., 1894; 2 vols.). Car- lyle's Laugh and Other Surprises, by T. W. Higginson (H. & M., 1009). J. R. Drake. — The Culprit Fay, in Ariel Booklets Series (Putnam, 1899). The Culprit Fay and Other Poems, edited by H. M. Skinner (Chicago, 1905). Theodore Dreiser. — On Contemporary Literature, by S. P. Sherman (Holt, 1917). Some Modern Novelists, by Helen T. and Wilson Fol- lett (Holt, 1918). Timothy Dwight. — Three Men of Letters, by M. C. Tyler (Putnam, 1895). Jonathan Edwards. — Works (New York, 1844; 4 vols.). Selected REFERENCE LIST OF BOOKS AND ARTICLES. 453 Sermons, edited by H. N. Gardiner (Macmillan, 1904). Life, by A. V. G. Allen, in American Religious Leaders Series, 1889. Early American Philosophers, by A. L. Jones (Macmillan, 1898). Hours in a Library, Vol. I., by Leslie Stephen (Harper, 1894). Essays in Puritanism, by Andrew Macphail (H.& M., 1905). K. W. Emerson. — Works, Centenary Edition, edited by E. W. Em- erson (H. & M., 1903-1904; 12 vols.). Works, Little Classic Edition (H.& M., 1883-1894; 12 vols.). Journals [1820-1876], edited by E. W. Emerson and W. E. Forbes (H. & M., 1909-1914; 10 vols.). Corre- spondence of Carlyle and Emerson (Osgood, 1883; enlarged edition, Ticknor, 1888 ; PI. & M.). Letters to a Friend, edited by C. E. Norton (H. & M., 1899). Essays, First and Second Series; Conduct of Life, Nature, and Essays from the Dial ; English Traits, and Representative Men; Society and Solitude and Other Essays (Dutton, 1907-1912; Everyman's Library). A Memoir, by J. E. Cabot (H. & M., 1887; 2 vols.). Life, by O. W. Holmes, in American Men of Letters Series, 1885. Life, by Richard Garnett, in Great Writers Series (Scott, 1888 ; has bibliography by J. P. Anderson, British Museum). Life, by F. B. Sanborn, in Beacon Biographies Series (Small, Maynard & Co., 1901). Life, by G. E. Woodberry, in English Men of Letters Series (Macmil- lan, 1907). Emerson in Concord, by E. W. Emerson (H.& M., 1889). Talks with, by C. J. Woodbury (Baker & Taylor, 1890). Personal Recollections of his Visits to England, etc., by Alexander Ireland (Simp- kin, Marshall & Co., 1882) . A Western Journey with, by J. B. Thayer (Little, Brown, & Co., 1884). Emerson, the Lecturer, by J. R. Lowell, in Literary Essays, Vol. I. Emerson Lecturing, in From the Easy Chair, by G. W. Curtis (Harper, 1902). Recollections of Seventy Years, by F. B. Sanborn (Badger, 1909) . An Estimate of his Character and Genius, by A. Bronson Alcott (Williams & Co., 1882). Genius and Character of (Osgood & Co., 1885 ; lectures at the Concord School of Philosophy, 1884). As a Poet, by Joel Benton (Holbrook & Co., 1883). Discourses in America, by Matthew Arnold (Macmillan, 1885). Em- erson and Carlyle ; and Emerson as a Poet ; by E. P. Whipple, in American Literature and Other Papers (Ticknor & Co., 1887) . Critical Miscellanies, Vol. I., by John Morley (Macmillan, 1893 ; essay on Emer- son, 1884). Men and Letters, by H. E. Scudder (H. & M., 1887). Obiter Dicta, second series, by Augustine Birrell (Scribner, 1887). Partial Portraits, by Henry James (Macmillan, 1888). Phases of Thought and Criticism, by Brother Azarias (H. & M., 1892). Literary and Social Essays, by G. W. Curtis (Harper, 1895). Birds and Poets, by John Burroughs (H. & M., 1897). Emerson and Other Essays, by J. J. Chapman (Scribner, 1898) . Interpretations of Poetry and Religion, by George Santayana (Scribner, 1900). The Poems of Emerson, in Essays Theological and Literary, by C. C. Everett (H. & M., 1901). Studies of a Biographer, Vol. IV., by Leslie Stephen (Putnam, 1902). Four American Leaders, by C. W. Eliot (American Unitarian Associa- 454 APPENDIX. tion, 1906). American Prose Masters, by W. C. Brownell (Scribner, 1909). Memories and Studies, by William James (Longmans, Green & Co., 1911). Posthumous Essays, by J. C. Collins (Dutton, 1912). P. H. Boynton, New Republic, Nov. 28, 1914; Jan. 30, 1915; May 22, 1915. Ralph Waldo Emerson, by O. W. Firkins (H. & M., 1915). Living Age, March 17, 1917 ; reprint of article in the London Times. Bibliography, by G. W. Cooke (H. & M., 1908). Edward Everett. — Orations and Speeches (Little, Brown, & Co., 1850-1868; 4 vols.). Quarterly Review, December, 1840. Clyde Fitch. — Nathan Hale (Russell, 1899). Barbara Frietchie (Doubleday, 1902). The Girl with the Green Eyes (Macmillan, 1905). The Climbers (Macmillan, 1905). The Stubbornness of Geraldine (Macmillan, 1906). The Truth (Macmillan, 1907). Her Own Way (Macmillan, 1907). Memorial Edition, edited by M. J. Moses and Virginia Gerson (Little, 1915 ; eleven plays) . How a Rapid-Fire Drama- tist Writes, Theatre, January, 1907. Independent, July 15, 1909. Benjamin Franklin. — Works, edited by A. H. Smyth (Macmillan, 1905-1907; 10 vols.). Autobiography, edited by John Bigelow (Put- nam, 1909). Poor Richard's Almanack, in the Thumb-Nail Series (Century Co., 1898). Selections, edited by U. W. Cutler (Crowell, 1905). The Many-Sided Franklin, by P. L. Ford (Century Co., 1899). Life, by J. T. Morse, Jr., in American Statesmen Series, 1889. Life, by J. B. McMaster, in American Men of Letters Series, 1887. Franklin in France, by E. E. Hale and E. E. Hale, Jr. (Roberts Bros., 1887). Causeries du Lundi, tome septieme, par C.-A. Sainte-Beuve (Paris). English Portraits, by C.-A. Sainte-Beuve (Holt, 1875). Memories and Thoughts, by Frederic Harrison (Macmillan, 1906). Shelburne Essays, Fourth Series, by P. E. More (Putnam, 1906). Abraham Lincoln and Other Addresses in England, by J. H. Choate (Century Co., 1910) • Benjamin Franklin, by E. L. Dudley (Macmillan, 1915). Bibliography, by P. L. Ford (Brooklyn, 1889). Philip Freneau. — Poems, edited by F. L. Pattee (Princeton Uni- versity Library, 1902- 1907 ; 3 vols.). Life, by Mary S. Austin (A. Wes- sels Co., 1901). Atlantic Monthly, December, 1904. Shelburne Essays, Fifth Series, by P. E. More (Putnam, 1908). Robert Frost. — A Boy's Will (Holt, 1915). North of Boston (Holt, 1915). Mountain Interval (Holt, 1916). Atlantic Monthly, August, 1915. New Republic, Feb. 20, 1915; Dec. 23, 1916; Aug. 25, 1917. Ad- vance of English Poetry in the Twentieth Century, Bookman, April, 1918. U. S. Grant. — Personal Memoirs (Webster & Co., 1885; 2 vols.). F.-G. Halleck.— Poetical Writings (Appleton, 1869). Life and Let- ters, by J. G. Wilson (Appleton, 1869). Commemorative Discourse by W. C. Bryant, in Prose Writings, Vol. I. Alexander Hamilton. — Works, 'edited by H. C. Lodge (Putnam, 1885-1886, 1904; 12 vols.). Federalist, edited by P. L. Ford (Holt, REFERENCE LIST OF BOOKS AND ARTICLES. 455 1898). Federalist, edited by H. C. Lodge (Putnam, 1888). Federalist (Dutton, 1911; Everyman's Library). Life, by J. T. Morse, Jr. (Little, Brown, & Co., 1876; 2 vols.). Life, by H. C. Lodge, in American States- men Series, 1883. Memories and Thoughts, by Frederic Harrison (Macmillan, 1906). Abraham Lincoln and Other Addresses in Eng- land, by J. H. Choate (Century Co., 1910). F. B. Harte. — Writings, Standard Library Edition (H. & M., 1896- 1903; 20 vols.). Complete Poems, Household Edition (H. & M.). Life, by H. C. Merwin (H. & M., 1911). American Novels, Quarterly Review, January, 1883. Varied Types, by G. K. Chesterton (Dodd, 1903). Atlantic Monthly, September, 1908. Leading American Nov- elists, by John Erskine (Holt, 1910). Blackwood's Magazine, April f 19 1 2. Nathaniel Hawthorne. — Works, Standard Library Edition (H. & M., 1882-1884; 15 vols.), Vols. XIV., XV., contain Nathaniel Hawthorne and his Wife, a Biography, by Julian Hawthorne. Works, Popular Edition (H. & M. ;- 8 vols.). Hawthorne's First Diary, with an Account of its Discovery and Loss, by S. T. Pickard (H. & M., 1897). Letters to W. D. Ticknor, 1851-1864 (Carteret Book Club, 1910). Nathaniel Hawthorne and his Wife, a Biography, by Julian Hawthorne (H. & M., 1884; 2 vols.). Life, by Henry James, Jr., in English Men of Letters Series (Harper, 1880). Life, by M. D. Conway, in Great Writers Series (Scott, 1891; has bibliography by J. P. Anderson, British Museum). Nathaniel Hawthorne, by G. E. Woodberry (H. & M., 1902). Yester- days with Authors, by J. T. Fields (H. & M., 1871). Hawthorne, by J. T. Fields (Osgood, 1871). Personal Recollections of, by Horatio Bridge (Harper, 1893). Memories of, by Rose Hawthorne Lathrop (H. & M., 1897). Hawthorne and his Circle, by Julian Hawthorne (Harper, 1903). Hawthorne and his Friends, by F. B. Sanborn (Torch Press, 1908). Recollections of Seventy Years, by F. B. Sanborn (Badger, 1909). Works of E. A. Poe, Virginia Edition, Vols. XL, XIII. (Cro- well, 1902; articles in magazines, 1842, 1847). Contes etranges imites d'Hawthorne, par E. A. Spoil, precedes d'une etude par E. Montegut (Clichy, 1866) . A Study of, by G. P. Lathrop (Osgood, 1876) . Prob- lems of the Scarlet Letter, by Julian Hawthorne, Atlantic Monthly, April, 1886. Literary Sketches, by H. S. Salt (London, 1888). Hours in a Library, Vol. I., by Leslie Stephen (Putnam, 1894). Literary and Social Essays, by G. W. Curtis (Harper, 1895). Shelburne Essays, First and Second Series, by P. E. More (Putnam, 1904, 1905). Adven- tures among Books, by Andrew Lang (Longmans, Green & Co., 1905). Park-Street Papers, by Bliss Perry (H. & M., 1908). American Prose Masters, by W. C. Brownell (Scribner, 1909). Leading American Novelists, by John Erskine (Holt, 1910). Attitudes and Avowals, by Richard Le Gallienne (Lane, 1910). Bibliography, by N. E. Browne (H. &M., 1905). P. H. Hayne. — Poems (Lothrop, 1882). 456 APPENDIX. " O. Henry ." — See W. S. Porter. Patrick Henry. — Life, Correspcndence, and Speeches, by W. W. Henry (Scribner, 1891 ; 3 vols.). Life, by M. C. Tyler, in American Statesmen Series, 1888. The True Patrick Henry, by George Morgan (Lippincott, 1907). Robert Herrick. — W. D. Howells, North American Review, June, 1909. Some American Story Tellers, by F. T. Cooper (Holt, 1911). O. W. Holmes. — Works, Standard Library Edition (H. & M., 1892- 1896; 15 vols.; Vols. XIV., XV., contain Life and Letters, by J. T. Morse, Jr.). Complete Poetical Works, Cambridge Edition (H. & M.). Life and Letters, by J. T. Morse, Jr. (H. & M., 1896). Letters to a Classmate, Century Magazine, October, 1897. Autocrat of the Break- fast Table, edited by M. C. Rounds (Macmillan, 1913) ; in Everyman's Library (Dutton, 1906). Life, by S. M. Crothers, in American Men of Letters Series (H. & M.; in preparation). Old Cambridge, by T, W. Higginson (Macmillan, 1899). Literary Friends and Acquaintance, by W. D. Howells (Harper, 1900). My Own Story, by J. T. Trowbridge (H. & M., 1903). O.W. Holmes, by Walter Jerrold (Macmillan, 1893). Literary and Social Essays, by G. W. Curtis (Harper, 1895). Studies of a Biographer, Vol. II., by Leslie Stephen (Putnam, 1898). Adven- tures among Books, by Andrew Lang (Longmans, Green & Co., 1905) . Oliver Wendell Holmes, The Autocrat, and his Fellow Boarders, by S. M. Crothers (H. & M., 1909). Edinburgh Review, April, 1910. Bibli- ography, by G. B. Ives (H. & M., 1907). Thomas Hooker. — Life, by G. L. Walker, in Makers of America Series, 1891. W. D. Howells. — Edinburgh Review, July, 1882. American Novels, Quarterly Review, January, 1883. Modern Novelists, by W. L. Phelps (Macmillan, 1910). Literary Recollections, by Henry James, North American Review, April, 1912. Forum, February, 1913. American Character in American Fiction, by Br^Cnder Matthews, Munsey's Maga- zine, August, 1913. The Spirit of American Literature, by J. Macy (Doubleday, 1913). Some Modern Novelists, by Helen T. and Wilson Follett (Holt, 1918). Washington Irving. — Works, New Knickerbocker Edition (Putnam, 1891-1897; 40 vols.) ; Handy Volume Edition (Putnam, 1912; 12 vols.). Sketch Book (Putnam, 1902) ; edited by G. P. Krapp (Scott, Foresman & Co., 1906) ; edited by H. A. Davidson (Heath, 1907); in Everyman's Library (Dutton, 1908) ; edited by T. Balston (Oxford University Press, 1^13). Alhambra, edited by A. M.Hitchcock (Macmillan, 1900). Talcs of a Traveller, edited by G. R. Carpenter (Longmans, Green & Co., 1895) ! edited by J. R. Rutland (American Book Co., 1911). Life and Letters, by P. M. Irving (Putnam, 1862-1863; 4 vols.). Life, by C. D. Warner, in American Men of Letters Series, 1881. Life, by H. W. Boynton, in Riverside Biographical Series (H.& M., 1901). Edinburgh Review, August, 1820 ; October, 1829; April, 1835. Quarterly Review, REFERENCE LIST OF BOOKS AND ARTICLES. 457 April, 1821; March, 1825; June, 1839; July, 1863. Blackwood's Maga- zine, June, 1822. Commemorative Discourse (1859), by W. C. Bryant, in Prose Writings, Vol. I. Nil Nisi Bonum, by W. M. Thackeray, in Roundabout Papers (1862). Studies, by C. D. Warner, W. C. Bryant, G. P. Putnam (Putnam, 1880). Literary and Social Essays, by G. W. Curtis (Harper, 1895). My Literary Passions, by W. D. Howells (Harper, 1895). Leading American Essayists, by W. M. Payne (Holt, 1910). Washington Irving's Fiction in the light of French Criticism (Indiana University Studies, No. 30, 1916; bibliography of French Reviews) . Henry James. — Novels and Tales (Scribner, 1907-1909; 24 vols.). The Ivory Tower (Scribner, 1917). The Sense of the Past (Scribner, 1917). The Middle Years (autobiographical) (Scribner, 1917). Edin- burgh Review, July, 1882 ; January, 1903. Quarterly Review, January, 1883 ; October, 1903 ; April, 1910. North American Review, May 17, 1907. Modern Studies, by O. Elton (Longmans, 1907). American Prose Masters, by W. C. Brownell (Scribner, 1909). W. D. Howells, North American Review, April, 1912. The Spirit of American Litera- ture, by J. A. Macy (Doubleday, 1913). Henry James, a Critical Study, by F. M. Hueffer (Boni, 1915). Fortnightly Review, June, 1917. On Contemporary Literature, by S. P. Sherman (Holt, 1917). Some Mod- ern Novelists, by Helen T. and Wilson Follett (Holt, 1918). The Method of Henry James, by J. W. Beach (Yale University Press, 1918). Thomas Jefferson. — Works, edited by P. L. Ford (Putnam, 1904- 1905; 12 vols.). Autobiography, edited by P. L. Ford (Putnam, 1914). Life, by J. T. Morse, Jr., in American Statesmen Series, 1884. Life, by James Schouler, in Makers of America Series, 1893. The True Thomas Jefferson, by W. E. Curtis (Lippincott, 1901). Southern Statesmen of the Old Regime, by W. P. Trent (Crowell, 1897). University and His- torical Addresses, by James Bryce (Macmillan, 1913). Thomas Jeffer- son, by J. S. Williams (Columbia University Press, 1913). Edward Johnson. — A History of New England, reprint, edited by J. F. Jameson (Scribner, 1910) . Sidney Lanier. — Poems, edited by his Wife, with a Memorial by W. H.Ward (Scribner, 1884). Select Poems, edited, with introduction, life, and notes, by Morgan Callaway, Jr. (Scribner, 1895). Letters (Scribner, 1899). Life, by Edwin Mims, in American Men of Letters Series, 1905. Reminiscences and Letters, by D. C. Gilman, South At- lantic Quarterly, April, 1905. Recollections and Letters, by M. H. Northrup, Lippincott's Magazine, March, 1905. Some Reminiscences and Early Letters, by G. H. Clarke (Macon, Ga., 1907). A Study of Lanier's Poems, by C. W. Kent, in Publications of the Modern Lan- guage Association, Vol. VII. (Baltimore, 1892). Questions at Issue, by Edmund Gosse (Heinemann, 1893; Appleton). Revue des Deux Mondes, Jan. 15, 1898; translated in the Living Age, May 14, 21, 1898. Contemporaries, by T. W. Higginson (H. & M., 1899). Rcpre- 458 APPENDIX. sentative Southern Poets, by C. W. Hubner (Neale Publishing Co., 1906). Attitudes and Avowals, by Richard Le Gallienne (Lane, 1910). Bibliography, by G. S. Wills, in Publications of the Southern History Association (Washington, 1899). Emma Lazarus. — Poems, with Biographical Sketch (H. & M., 1889; 2 vols.). Abraham Lincoln. — Works, edited by J. G. Nicolay and John Hay (Century Co., 1894; 2 vols.) ; edited by the same (Tandy Co., 1905; 12 vols.). Noted Speeches, including the Lincoln-Douglas Debate, edited by L. M. Briggs (Moffat, 191 1). Speeches and Letters (Dutton, 1907; Everyman's Library). Life, by J. G. Nicolay and John Hay (Century Co., 1890; 10 vols.). Life, by J. T. Morse, Jr., in American Statesmen Series, 1893 (2 vols.). Life, by Ida M. Tarbell (Doubleday, 1900 ; Macmillan ; 2 vols.). A Short Life of Abraham Lincoln, by J. G. Nicolay (Century Co., 1902). Life, by Brand Whitlock, in Beacon Biog- raphies Series (Small, Maynard & Co., 1909). History and Personal Recollections of, by W. H. Herndon, his Law Partner (Belford, Clarke & Co., 1889; 3 vols.). Reminiscences of, by Distinguished Men of his Time (New York, published by the North American Review, 1885). Abraham Lincoln [1864-1865], by J. R. Lowell, in Political Essays. Abraham Lincoln, an Essay, by Carl Schurz (H. & M., 1891). The Evolution of his Literary Style, by D. K. Dodge (University of Illinois, 1900) . George Washington and Other Addresses, by Frederic Harrison (Macmillan, 1901). University and Historical Addresses, by James Bryce (Macmillan, 1913). Democracy of the Constitution, and Other Addresses and Essays, by H. C. Lodge (Scribner, 1915). Bibliography, by L. E. Russell (Torch Press, 1910). D.R. Locke ("Petroleum V. Nasby "). — Works (Lee & Shepard, 1866-1890). H. W. Longfellow. — Works, Standard Library Edition (H. & M., 1886-1891; 14 vols.; Vols. XII.-XIV. contain Life and Final Memo- rials, by Samuel Longfellow). Complete Poetical Works, Cambridge Edition, edited by H. E. Scudder (H. & M., 1893). Life, by E. S. Rob- ertson, in Great Writers Series (Scott, 1887; has bibliography by J. P. Anderson, British Museum). Life, by G. R. Carpenter, in Beacon Biog- raphies Series (Small, Maynard & Co., 1901). Life, by T. W. Higgin- son, in American Men of Letters Series (H. & M., 1902). Recollections of a Literary Life, by Mary R. Mitford (London, 1852) . Literary Friends and Acquaintance, by W. D. Howells (Harper, 1900). Recollections Personal and Literary, by R. H. Stoddard (Barnes, 1903). Edinburgh Review, April, 1835. Works of E. A. Poe, Virginia Edition, Vols. X- XIII. (Crowell, 1902; magazine articles, 1839-1845). North American Review, July, 1842 ; January, 1848. Blackwood's Magazine, February, 1852. W. D. Howells, North American Review, April, 1867. La Poesie en Amerique, par Louis Depret (Lille, 1876). Etudes Americaines, par A. De Prins (Louvain, 1877). Anthony Trollope, North American REFERENCE LIST OF BOOKS AND ARTICLES. 459 Review, April, 1881. H. W. Longfellow, by Thomas Davidson (Little, Brown, & Co., 1882). Estudios sobre Longfellow, por Victor Suarez Capalleja (Madrid, 1883). Tales of a Wayside Inn und ihre Quellen, von H. Varnhagen (Berlin, 1884). His Art, and the Shaping of Excel- sior, in Men and Letters, by H. E. Scudder (H. & M., 1887). Letters on Literature, by Andrew Lang (Longmans, 1889; second edition). Views and Reviews, by W. E. Henley (Scribner, 1890). Criticisms on Contemporary Thought and Thinkers, by R. H. Hutton (Macmillan, 1894). Literary and Social Essays, by G. W. Curtis (Harper, 1895). Introduction to Selected Poems of Longfellow, by George Saintsbury (Jack, 1906). Evangeline and the Real Acadians, by Archibald Mac- Mechan, Atlantic Monthly, February, 1907. Shelburne Essays, Fifth Series, by P. E. More (Putnam, 1908). Park-Street Papers, by Bliss Perry (H. & M., 1908). Longfellow and Other Essays, by W. P. Trent (Crowell, 1910). Bibliography, by L. S. Livingston (Dodd, Mead & Co., 1908). Amy Lowell. — A Dome of Many-Coloured Glass (H. & M., 1912). Sword Blades and Poppy Seed (Macmillan, 1916). Men, Women, and Ghosts (Macmillan, 1916). New Republic, Jan. 30, 1915. Nation, April 4, 1918. Amy Lowell, by W. Bryher (Eyre, 1918). J. R. Lowell. — Works, Standard Library Edition (H. & M., 1891- 1902; 13 vols., including life by Scudder). Works, Popular Edition (H. & M., 1892; 6 vols.). Poems, Cambridge Edition, edited by H. E. Scudder (H. & M., 1896). Letters, edited by C. E. Norton (Harper, 1894; 2 vols.). Life, by H. E. Scudder (H. & M., 1901 ; 2 vols.). Life, by Ferris Greenslet (H. & M. t 1905). Life, by Henry van Dyke, in English Men of Letters Series (Macmillan ; in preparation) . Canon Farrar, Forum, October, 1881. R. H. Stoddard, North American Re- view, October, 1891. C. E. Norton, Harper's Magazine, May, 1893. Lowell as a Teacher, by Barrett Wendell, in Stelligeri (Scribner, 1893). The Poet and the Man, Recollections and Appreciations, by F. H. Un- derwood (Lee and Shepard, 1893). Conversations with, in his last years, Atlantic Monthly, January, 1897. Lowell and his Friends, by E. E. Hale (H. & M., 1899). Contemporaries, by T. W. Higginson (H. & M., 1899) . Literary Friends and Acquaintance, by W. D. How- ells (Harper, 1900). My Own Story, by J. T. Trowbridge (H. & M., 1903). Atlantic Monthly, January, 1867. Quarterly Review, January, 1867; July, 1902. Nation, Jan. 27, 1870. Edinburgh Review, October, 1891; January, 1900. Essays in London and Elsewhere, by Henry James (Harper, 1893). Lowell as a Critic, in Excursions in Criticism, by William Watson (Macmillan, 1893). Orations and Addresses, Vol. III., by G. W. Curtis (Harper, 1894). My Literary Passions, by W. D. Howells (Harper, 1895). Makers of Literature, by G. E. Woodbcrry (Macmillan, 1900). American Prose Masters, by W. C. Brownell (Scribner, 1909). International Perspective in Criticism, by Gustav Pollak (Dodd, Mead & Co., 1914). James Russell Lowell as a Critic, 4 6o APPENDIX. by J, J. Reilly (Putnam, 1915). Bibliography, by G. W. Cooke (H. & M., 1906). John Mason. — A Brief History of the Pequot War, reprint, edited by Charles Orr (Cleveland, 1897). E. L. Masters. — Spoon River Anthology (Macmillan, 1915). Songs and Satires (Macmillan, 1916). The Great Valley (Macmillan, 1916). Toward the Gulf (Macmillan, 1918). New Republic, April 17, 1915; April 29, 1916. North American Review, August, 1915. Forum, January, 1916. Advance of English Poetry in the Twentieth Century, Bookman, May, 1918. Cotton Mather. — Life, by Barrett Wendell, in Makers of America Series, 1891. Herman Melville. — Sea Tales (Estes, 1910; 4 vols.). Typee, Omoo, Moby Dick (Dutton; 3 vols. ; Everyman's Library). Literary World, Dec. 19, 1891. The Greatest Sea Story in the World, in Life in a Little College, by Archibald MacMechan (H. & M., 1914). C. H. Miller ("Joaquin Miller"). — Poems, Bear Edition (Whita- ker & Ray-Wiggin Co., 1909-10). W. V. Moody. — Poems and Plays, with biographical sketch by J. M. Manly (H. & M., 1912; 2 vols.). Some Letters of William Vaughn Moody, edited by D. E. Mason (H. & M., 1913). Dial, June, 1901. Fortnightly Review, September, 1906. Forum, January, 1910. Atlantic Monthly, May, 1913. /. L. Motley. — Histories (Harper). Correspondence, edited by G. W. Curtis (Harper, 1889; 2 vols.). Memoir, by O. W. Holmes (H. & M., 1878). Edinburgh Review, January, 1857; January, 1861. Quarterly Review, January, 1861. John Mnir. — Writings, Manuscript Edition (H. & M., 1916-; 6 vols.). Three Days with, World's Work, March, 1909. Alaska Days with, Outlook, May 26-July 28, 1915. " Petroleu?n V. Nasdy." — D. R. Locke. Margaret Fuller Ossoli. — Life Without and Life Within; or Re- views, Narratives, Essays, and Poems, edited by A. B. Fuller (Brown, Taggard & Chase, 1859). Memoirs, by J. F. Clarke, R. W. Emerson, W. H. Channing (Phillips, Sampson & Co., 1851; 2 vols.). Life, by Julia W. Howe, in Famous Women Series (Roberts Bros., 1883). Life, by T. W. Higginson, in American Men of Letters Series, 1884. Essays in Puritanism, by Andrew Macphail (H. & M., 1905). Thomas Paine. — Writings, edited by M. D. Conway (Putnam, 1894- 1896; 4 vols.). Common Sense, and The American Crisis (Putnam, 1912). The Rights of Man (Dutton, 1915; Everyman's Library). Life, by M. D. Conway (Putnam, 1392; 2 vols.). Theodore Parker. — Works, edited by Frances P. Cobbe (Triibner & Co., 1863-1865; 12 vols.). Life, by John Fiske, in American Religious Leaders Series. Memorial and Biographical Sketches, by J. F. Clarke (II. & M.), 1878. REFERENCE LIST OF BOOKS AND ARTICLES. 461 Francis Park man. — Works (Little, Brown, & Co., 1865-1898 ; 12 vols.). Atlantic Monthly, October, 1865. Quarterly Review, April, 1897. T. W. Parsons. — Poems (H. & M., 1893). J. K. Paulding. — Literary Life of, by W. I. Paulding (Scribner, 1867) . J. G. Percival. — Poetical Works (Ticknor & Fields, 1859 ; 2 vols.) . Literary Essays, Vol. II., by J. R. Lowell. Wendell Phillips. — Speeches, Lectures, and Letters (Lee & Shepard, 1863, 1892; 2 vols.). Life and Times, by G. L. Austin (Lee & Shepard, 1884). Atlantic Monthly, December, 1863. Orations and Addresses, Vol. III., by G. W. Curtis (Harper, 1894). E. A. Poe. — Works, Virginia Edition, edited by J. A. Harrison (Crowell, 1902; 17 vols.). Works, edited by E. C. Stedman and G. E. Woodberry (Stone & Kimball, 1894-1895; 10 vols.). Works, edited by C. F. Richardson (Putnam, 1904; 10 vols.). Tales (Putnam; 5 vols.). Essays and Stories (Macmillan, 1914; Bohn Popular Library). Selec- tions from the Critical Writings, edited by F. C. Prescott (Holt, 1909). Complete Poems, edited by J. H. Whitty (H. & M., 1911; has textual notes and a bibliography). Poems, edited by Killis Campbell (Ginn, 1917 ; has notes, and collates the variant readings) . Last Letters to Sarah Helen Whitman, edited by J. A. Harrison (Putnam, 1909). Life, by J. A. Harrison, in Works, Virginia Edition, Vol. I. (Crowell, 1902). Life, by G. E. Woodberry, in American Men of Letters Series, 1885 ; enlarged edition, 2 vols., 1909. Life, by John Macy, in Beacon Biographies Series (Small, Maynard & Co., 1907). Life, by W. P. Trent, in English Men of Letters Series (Macmillan; in preparation). Poe and his Critics, by Sarah H. Whitman (New York, i860; Preston & Rounds Co., Providence). In the Poe Circle, by Joel Benton (Mansfield, 1899). Recollections Personal and Literary, by R. H.Stoddard (Barnes, 1903). Individuality of, with Numerous Scarce Portraits, by R. A. Douglass- Lithgow (Everett Publishing Co., 1911). Edgar Poe, sa vie et ses oeuvres, in Histoires extraordinaires, by Charles Baudelaire (Paris, 1852) ; translated by H. Curwen (London, 1872). North American Review, October, 1856. Edinburgh Review, April, 1858; April, 1903. Under the Microscope, by A. C. Swinburne (London, 1872). William Minto, Fortnightly Review, July 1, 1880 ; reprinted in Living Age, Sept. 11, 1880. Ecrivains francises, by Emile Hennequin (Paris, 1889). Letters to Dead Authors, by Andrew Lang (Scribner, 1893) . New Essays towards a Critical Method, by J. M. Robertson (Lane, 1897). Revue des Deux Mondes, July 15, Aug. 1, 1897. Studies and Appreciations, by L. E. Gates (Macmillan, 1900) . Shelburne Essays, First Series, by P. E. More (Put- nam, 1904). The Poe-Chivers Tradition Re- Examined, by A. G. New- comer, Sewanee Review, January, 1904. Notes on the Influence of E. T. A. Hoffmann upon E. A. Poe, by G. Gruener, in Publications of Modern Language Association, March, 1904 (Baltimore). The In- fluence of E. T. A. Hoffmann on the Tales of E. A. Poe, by Palmer Cobb (University of North Carolina Press, 1908). American Prose 462 APPENDIX. Masters, by W. C. Brownell (Scribner, 1909). E. A. Poe, a Critical Study, by Arthur Ransome (Seeker, 1910). Longfellow and Other Essays, by W. P. Trent (Crowell, 1910). Bibliography, by C. W. Bragg (Columbia University Library, 1909). W. S. Porter (" O. Henry ").— Life, by C. A. Smith (Doubleday, 1916). Some American Story Tellers, by F. T. Cooper (Holt, 1911). Living Age, Nov. 25, 1916. New Republic, Dec. 2, 1916. Ezra Pound. — Lustra, with Earlier Poems (Knopf, 1917). \V. H. Prescott. — Works (Lippincott, 1872-1875). Life, by George Ticknor (Ticknor & Fields, 1863). Edinburgh Review, January, 1839; April, 1845; January, 1857. Quarterly Review, December, 1843; Sep- tember, 1847. John Randolph. — Life, by Henry Adams, in American Statesmen Series, 1883. T. B. Read. — Poetical Works (Lippincott, 1866 ; 3 vols. ; revised edition, 1 vol., 1882). Mary Rowlandson. — The Soveraignty & Goodness of God, Being a Narrative of the Captivity and Restauration of Mrs. Mary Rowland- son, reprint in Narratives of the Indian Wars, 1675-1699 (Scribner, 1913). Alan Seeger. — Poems (Scribner, 1916). Letters and Diary (Scrib- ner, 1917). P. B. Shillaber. — Partingtonian Patchwork, etc. (Lee & Shepard, 1872-1881). E. R. Sill. — Poems ; and the Hermitage, and Later Poems (H. & M.). W. G. Simms. — Poems (New York : Redfield, 1853 ; 2 vols.) . Novels (Redfield,i859; 18 vols.; Lovell, 1884-1886; 18 vols.). Life, by W. P. Trent, in American Men of Letters Series, 1892 (has bibliography). Leading American Novelists, by John Erskine (Holt, 1910). Book News Monthly, June, 1912. John Smith. — Works, edited by Edward Arber, in English Scholar's Library (Birmingham, 1884; 2 vols.) ; new edition, with introduction by A. G. Bradley (Edinburgh, 1910; 2 vols.). Generall Historie of Vir- ginia, New England and the Summer Isles, etc. (Macmillan, 1907; 2 vols.). Life, by A. G. Bradley (Macmillan, 1905). Life, by Rossiter Johnson (Macmillan, 1915). E. C. Stedman. — Prose and Poetical Works, 4 vols. ; Poems, House- hold Edition (H. & M-). Life and Letters, edited by Laura Stedman and G. M. Gould (Moffat, 1910; 2 vols.). Atlantic Monthly, March, 1878 ; January, 1898. Carlyle's Laugh and Other Surprises, by T. W. Higginson (H. & M., 1909). R. H. Stoddard. — Poems (Scribner, 1880). //. B. Stowe. — Life and Letters, by Annie Fields (H. & M., 1897). Life, by C. E. Stowe (H. & M., 1889). Southern Literary Messenger, October, December, 1852; June, 1853. Notes on Uncle Tom's Cabin: being a Logical Answer to its Allegations and Inferences against Slavery REFERENCE LIST OF BOOKS AND ARTICLES. 463 as an Institution, by Rev. E. J. Stearns (Lippincott, Grambo & Co., 1853) . Essays on Fiction, by N. W. Senior ( Longmans, 1864) . Leading American Novelists, by John Erskine (Holt, 1910). Charles Sumner. — Works (Lee & Shepard, 1870-1883 ; 15 vols.). Memoir and Letters, by E. L. Pierce (Roberts Bros., 1877-1893 ; 4 vols.) . Life, by Moorfield Story, in American Statesmen Series, 1899. Memo- rial and Biographical Sketches, by J. F. Clarke (H. & M.), 1878. Orations and Addresses, Vol. III., by G. W. Curtis (Harper, 1894). Eulogy, by Carl Schurz (Lee & Shepard, 1874). Bayard Taylor. — Travels (Putnam, 1850-1889; 11 vols.). Novels (Putnam, 1862-1872; 5 vols.). Poetical Works, New Household Edi- tion, edited by Marie H. Taylor (H. & M., 1880). Dramatic Works, Household Edition, edited by Marie H. Taylor (H. & M., 1902). Life, by A. H. Smyth, in American Men of Letters Series, 1896. Life and Letters, edited by Marie Hansen-Taylor and H. E. Scudder (H. & M., 1884 ; 2 vols.). Recollections Personal and Literary, by R. H. Stoddard, (Barnes, 1903). Augustus Thomas. — As a Man Thinks (Duffield, 191 1). The Witch- ing Hour, in Representative American Plays, edited by A. H. Quinn (Century Co., 1917). The Stage in America, by Norman Hapgood (Macmillan, 1901). The Wallet of Time, Vol. II., by William Winter (Moffat, 1913). H.D. Thoreau. — Works, Manuscript Edition (H. & M., 1906; 20 vols.) ; Riverside Pocket Edition (H. & M., 1915; 11 vols.). Cape Cod Excursions, Maine Woods, Walden, Week on the Concord and Merri- mack Rivers (Crowell, 1914; Handy Volume Classics). Walden, edited by R. M. Alden (Longmans, 1910) ; edited by Byron Rees (Macmillan, 1910) ; with introduction by T. Watts-Dunton (Oxford University Press) ; in Everyman's Library (Dutton, 1908). Poems of Nature, selected and edited by H. S. Salt and F. B. Sanborn (H. & M.). Familiar Letters, edited by F. B. Sanborn (H. & M., 1894). Life, by F. B. Sanborn, in American Men of Letters Series, 1882. Life, by H. S. Salt, in Great Writers Series (Scott, 1896; has bibliography by J. P. Anderson, British Museum). Talks with Emerson; by C. J. Woodbury (Baker & Taylor, 1890; in general, books about Emerson have numerous references to Thoreau). Atlantic Monthly, March, October, 1865. Thoreau, by J. R. Lowell, in Literary Essays, Vol. I. R. W. Emerson, Works, Vol. X. An American Rousseau, Saturday Review, 1864, Vol. XVIII. Thoreau and New England Transcendentalism, Catholic World, 1878, Vol. XXVII. Familiar Studies of Men and Books, by R. L. Stevenson (Chatto & Windus, 1882). Indoor Studies, by John Burroughs (II. & M., 1889). Shelburne Essays, First and Fifth Series, by P. E. More (Putnam, 1904, 1908). Leading American Essayists, by W. M. Payne (Holt, 1910). Henry Thoreau, by T. Watts-Dunton (Torch Press, 1910). Bibliography, by F. H. Allen (H. & M., 1908). Henry Timrod. — Poems, Memorial Edition (B. F. Johnson Publish- 464 APPENDIX. ing Co., Richmond, 1901). International Review, September, 1880. H. W. Mabie, International Monthly, January-June, 1902. South Atlantic Quarterly, July, 1910. "Mark Twain." — See S. L. Cletnens. Jones Very. — Poems and Essays, Complete Edition, with a Bio- graphical Sketch by J. F. Clarke (H. & M., 1886). " Artemus Ward" — See C. F. Browne. Nathaniel Ward. — The Simple Cobbler of Agawam in America, reprint, edited by Thomas Waters (Ipswich Historical Society, 1905). C. D. Warner. — Writings, edited by T. R. Lounsbury (American Publishing Co., 1904; 15 vols.). Mercy Warren. — Life, by Alice Brown, in Women of Colonial and Revolutionary Times Series (Scribner, 1896). George Washington. — Writings, edited by W. C. Ford (Putnam, 1889-1893; 14 vols.). Life, by W. C. Ford (Scribner, 1900; 2 vols.) ; in Beacon Biographies Series (Small, Maynard & Co., 1910). The True George Washington, by P. L. Ford (Lippincott, 1896). Life, by H. C. Lodge, in American Statesmen Series, 1889 (2 vols.). George Wash- ington by Woodrow Wilson (Harper, 1896). Southern Statesmen of the Old Regime, by W. P. Trent (Crowell, 1897). George Washington and Other Addresses, by Frederic Harrison (Macmillan, 1901). Four American Leaders, by C. W. Eliot (American Unitarian Association. 1906). Daniel Webster. — Works (Little, Brown, & Co., 1903; 18 vols.). The Speeches and Orations (Little, Brown, & Co., 1902). Daniel Web- ster for Young Americans, Comprising the Greatest Speeches, edited by C. F. Richardson (Little, Brown, & Co., 1906). Unpublished Manu- scripts and Some Examples of his Preparation for Public Speaking, by G. F. Hoar, Scribner's Magazine, July, 1899. Life, by G. T. Curtis (Appleton, 1869-1870; 2 vols.). Life, by H. C. Lodge, in American Statesmen Series, 1884. The True Daniel Webster, by S. G. Fisher (Lippincott, 191 1). Edinburgh Review, June, 1829. Quarterly Review, December, 1840. North American Review, July, 1852. As a Master of English Style, by E. P. Whipple, m American Literature and Other Papers (Ticknor & Co., 1887). As an Orator, and a Glance at, in John Adams, with Other Essays and Addresses, by Mellen Chamberlain (H. & M., 1898). Noah Webster. — Life, by H. E. Scudder, in American Men of Let- ters Series, 1882. Edith Wharton. — New American Type and Other Essays, by H. D. Sedgwick (H. & M., 1908). Scribner's Magazine, February, 1910. Some American Story Tellers, by F.T.Cooper (Holt, 1911). Nation, Oct. 26, 1911; Oct. 30, 1913. North American Review, February, 1914. Quarterly Review, January, 1915; same article, Living Age, March 6, 1915. Some Modern Novelists, by Helen T. and Wilson Follett (Holt, 1918). REFERENCE LIST OF BOOKS AND ARTICLES. 465 Walt Whitman. — Complete Works, Camden Edition (Putnam, 1902 ; 10 vols.). Selections from the Prose and Poetry, edited by O. L. Triggs (Small, Maynard & Co., 1898). [Mitchell Kennerley, New York, is now the authorized publisher of Whitman's works.] His Life and Work, by Bliss Perry (H. & M., 1906). Life, by G. R. Carpenter, in English Men of Letters Series (Macmillan, 1909). A Study of, by R. M. Bucke (McKay, 1883). With Walt Whitman in Camden, by H. L. Traubel (Small, Maynard & Co., 1906, 1908; 2 vols.). Personal Recollections of, by Ellen M. Calder, Atlantic Monthly, June, 1907. Days with Walt Whitman, with Some Notes on his Life and Work, by Edward Carpenter (Macmillan, 1908). Familiar Studies of Men and Books, by R. L. Stevenson (Chatto & Windus, 1882). Studies in Lit- erature [1789-1877], by Edward Dowden (Paul, Trench & Co., 1889). Democratic Art, with Special Reference to Walt Whitman, in Essays Speculative and Suggestive, Vol. II., by J. A. Symonds (Chapman & Hall, 1890). The New Spirit, by Havelock Ellis (Scott, 1890). Brown- ing and Whitman, a Study in Democracy, by O. L. Triggs (Macmillan, 1893). A Study of, by J. A. Symonds (Nimmo, 1893). A Study of, by John Burroughs (H. & M., 1896). Studies in Prose and Poetry, by A. C. Swinburne (Chatto & Windus, 1897; second edition). Emerson and Other Essays, by J. J. Chapman (Scribner, 1898). Interpretations of Poetry and Religion, by George Santayana (Scribner, 1900). Essays in Puritanism, by Andrew Macphail (H. & M., 1905). Shelburne Essays, Fourth Series, by P. E. More (Putnam, 1906). Walt Whit- man, the Man and the Poet, by James Thomson (" B. V.") (Do- bell, 1910). Democracy and Poetry, by F. B. Gummere (H. & M., 1911). /. G. Whittier.— Works, Standard Library Edition (H. & M., 1892- 1894; 9 vols.; Vols. VIII., IX., contain Life and Letters, by S. T. Pick- ard). Complete Poetical Works, Cambridge Edition (H. & M., 1894). Life and Letters, by S. T. Pickard (H. & M., 1894; 2 vols.). Life, by Richard Burton, in Beacon Biographies Series (Small, Maynard & Co., 1901); by T. W. Higginson, in English Men of Letters Series (Macmil- lan, 1902) ; by G. R. Carpenter, in American Men of Letters Series, 1903; by W. J. Linton, in Great Writers Series (Scott, 1893; has bibli- ography by J. P. Anderson, British Museum). Notes of his Life and of his Friendships, by Mrs. J. T. Fields (Harper, 1893). G. E. Wood- berry, Atlantic Monthly, November, 1892. Personal Recollections of by Mary B. Claflin (Crowell, 1893). E. S. Phelps, Century Magazine, January, 1893. My Own Story, by J. T. Trowbridge (H. & M., 1903). Whittier-Land, by S. T. Pickard (II. & M., 1904). Atlantic Monthly, November, i860; Marcn, 1866. His Life, Genius, and Writings, by W. S. Kennedy (Lothrop, 1886). Stelligeri, by Barrett Wendell (Scrib- ner, 1893). Makers of Literature, by G. E. Woodberry (Macmillan, 1900). Park-Street Papers, by Bliss Perry (H. & M., 1908). Percival Wilde. — Dawn and Other One-Act Plays of Life To-Day 466 APPENDIX. (Holt, 1915). Confessional and Other American Plays (Holt, ic, 16). The Unseen Host and Other War Plays (Little, 1917). Roger Williams. — Life, Letters, and Works (Providence: Publica- tions of the Narragansett Club, 1866-1874; 6 vols.). Life, by O. S. Straus (Century Co., 1894). Roger Williams, by E. J. Carpenter (Graf- ton Press, 1909). N. P. Willis. — Poems (New York: Clark & Austin, 1861). Life, by H. A. Beers, in American Men of Letters Series, 1885 (has bibli- ography). Woodrow Wilson. — The State (Scribner, 1889). An Old Master and Other Political Essays (Heath, 1893). Mere Literature and Other Essays (H. & M., 1896). A History of the American People (Harper, 1902; 5 vols.). Democracy To-Day, edited by Christian Gauss (Scott, Foresman & Co., 1917; contains fifteen addresses or papers by Mr. Wilson). John Winthrop. — The History of New England, edited by J. K. Hosmer (Scribner, 1908; 2 vols.). Life, by J. H. Twichell, in Makers of America Series, 1891. Life and Letters, by R. C. Winthrop (Little, Brown, & Co., 1863; 2 vols.). Essays in Puritanism, by Andrew Mac- phail (H. &M., 1905). John Woolman. — Journal, with introduction by Whittier (Osgood, 1873) ; new edition (H. & M., 1909). Journal, with Other Writings (Macmillan, 1903) ; in Everyman's Library, with introduction by V. D. Scudder (Dutton, 1910). Life and Times, by W. T. Shore (Macmillan, 1914). INDEX. A. Gordon Pym, 164, 165. Abraham Lincoln, 249, 410. Abraham Lincoln Walks at Mid- night, 334. Adams, Abigail, 52. Adams, John, 46, 49> 5 2 > 45°- Adams, Rev. John, 37, 438. Adams, Samuel, 47-48, 450. Addison, Joseph, 15, 32, 52, 56, 121, 124. Adjustment, 238. Adulateur, 67, 440. Adventure of One Hans Pfaal, 164. Afloat and Ashore, 130. After a Tempest, 146. Age of Reason, 79. Ages, 143. Aiken, Conrad, 334. Akenside, Mark, 80. Al Aaraaf, 167. Alban the Pirate, 149. Alcott, A. B., 205, 209-210, 450. Alcuin, 95. Aldrich, T. B., 298, 300, 323, 4So. Algerine Captive, 93. Alhambra, 124-125. Alice of Old Vincennes, 297. Allen, Ethan, 52, 441. Allen, J. L., 294. Allinson, A. C. E., 320. Allston, Washington, 82. Alnwick Castle, 114. Alsop, George, 39, 438. Alsop, Richard, 87. Ambassadors, 302, 303. America, 173. America at Work, 320. American Flag, 114. American Ideals, 322. American Literature, 319. American Politician, 307. American Prose Masters, 318. American Revolution, 322. Americanism, 12, 15, 54, 59, 62, 80, 91, 92, 93, 100-101, 123, 126,135,136,171,249,254- 255, 257, 258, 264, 267-269, 274, 283, 347-348. Americans and Others, 319. Ames, Fisher, 78. Among the Hills, 237. Anarchiad, 59, 442. Andre, 149. Andros, Thomas, 52, 441. Annabel Lee, 169. Anne, 293. Anti-Matrimony, 342. Anti-Slavery Poems, 170. Arbuthnot, John, 54. Archdale, John, 38, 438. Arizona (play), 340. Arizona (poem), ^37- Armies of the United States, 59- 467 468 INDEX. Arnold, Matthew, 207, 209, 246, 3^3, 324. Artcmus Ward: His Book, etc., 274, 45i. Arthur Mervyn, 94, 96-97, 100. As a Man Thinks, 340. Assignation, 165. Astoria, 125. Atalantis, 155. Atlantic Monthly, 107, 253, 285, 3i7. Audrey, 297. Augustus and Aurelian, 93. Aurelian, 172. Autobiography of Franklin, 56- 57, 380. Autobiography of Jefferson, 52. Autocrat of the Breakfast Table, 253, 256-258, 414. Awakening of Helena Richie, 307. Aylmerc, 261. Backlog Studies, 316. Backwoodsman, 113. Balcony Stories, 292. Balloon Hoax, 164. Balzac, Honore, 134. Bancroft, George, 278, 450. Barbara Frictchie (play), 341. Barbara Frictchie (poem), 235. Barefoot Boy, 236. Barlow, Joel, 59, 62-63, 377, 442, 450. Barton, Andrew, 67, 440. Battle Hymn of the Republic, 174. Battle of Brooklyn, 68, 441. Battle of Bunker' s-H ill, 68, 379, 441. Battle of Niagara, 88-90. Battle of Tippecanoe, 149. Battle-Pieces, 149. Bay Fight, 174. Bay Psalm Book, 25. Bayou Folk, 293. Beach, Lewis, 345. Bedouin Song, 264. Beecher, H. W., 274, 285, 451. i Before Adam, 310. Beginnings of New England, 322. Beginnings of Poetry, 319. Being a Boy, 316. Belasco, David, 340. Belknap, Jeremy, 92. Bellamy, Edward, 298. Bells, 166. Ben Bolt, 261. Ben Hur, 296. Benjamin, Park, 116. Berenice, 166. Bertram, 156. Beverley, Robert, 15, 432. Bianca Visconti, 115. Biglow Papers, 245-246, 409. Biographical Stories, 219. Bird, R. M., 260. Birds and Poets, 320. Black Cat, 165. Blair, Rev. James, 14. Blair, Robert, 144-145. Blake, William, 226. Bleecker, A. E., 92-93. Blithedale Romance, 221, 223, 224. Blockheads (opera), 68, 442. Blockheads (play), 68, 441. Bloody T cnent of Persecution, 23, 435- Boccaccio, Giovanni, 287. Boker, G. H., 261, 451. Book of Annandale, 331. Books and Men, 319. INDEX. 469 Boss, 343. Boston, 81. Boston News-Letter, 362, 426. Bosworth, Benjamin, 29. Bracebridge Hall, 123-124. Brackenridge, H. H., 68, 93, 379, 428, 441. Bradford, William, 18, 353, 433, 45i- Bradstreet, Anne, 26-27, 35 7> 434, 45 *• Brahma, 207. Brainard, J. G., 173. Bransford in Arcadia, 288. "Bread and Cheese Lunch," 128, 142. Bread-Winners, 298. Breechiad, 81. "Bret Harte," 287-288, 327, t 455- Bricks without Straw, 293. Bridal of Pennacook, 234. Brief and Plain Essay, 37, 438. British Prison-Ship, 63, 443. Broken Harp, 84. Brook Farm Community, 205, 217, 221, 446, 448. Brooke, Henry, 41. Brooks, M. G., 171-172. Broomstick Train, 255. Brother Jonathan, 171. Brown, Alice, 286. Brown, C. B., 94-101, 121, 157, 169, 170, 226, 451. Browne, C. F., 274, 451. Brownell, H. H., 174. Brownell, W. C, 318. Browning, E. B., 169. Browning, Robert, 176. Brute, 329. Brutus, 115. Bryant, W. C. — life, 136-142 ; works, Zy, 137, 142-148; miscellaneous, 108, 163, 184, 385, 4Si. Buccaneer, 170. Buckthorne and His Friends, 1 24. Buds and Bird-Voices, 220. Building of the Ship, 184. Bunner, H. C, 286, 324. Burke, Edmund, 79. Burning Daylight, 310. Burns, 114. Burns, Robert, 229. Burroughs, John, 320, 321, 451. Busy-Body papers, 56. Butler, Samuel, 61, 82. Butler, W. A., 149. Byles, Mather, 32, 37, 366, 437. Byrd, Colonel William, 15, 352, .432,433. Byron, Lord, 79, 83, 89, 90, 114, 115, 149, 152, 153, 155, 168, 172,327. Cable, G. W., 291-292. Calaynos, 261. Calhoun, J. C, 274-275, 451. Caliban, a Community Masque, 345- California Ballads, 264. Call of the Wild, 310. Callender, John, 35, 438. Calvert, G. H., 153. Cambridge History of American Literature, 319. Campbell, Thomas, 65, 80. Canterbury Pilgrims, 342. Canterbury I* ales {Prologue), 342. Captain Craig, 331. Carey, Mathew, 87. 470 INDEX. Carlyle, Thomas, 194, i99> 200, 201, 204. Carman, Bliss, 328. Cary, Alice and Phcebe, 140- 150, 45i- Cassandra Southwick, 234. Cassique of Accabee, 156. Casting Away of Mrs. Leeks and Mrs. Aleshine, 301. Caterpillar, 85. Cathedral, 246. Catherwood, M. H., 296. Cato — Moral Distichs, trans- lation, 41, 439- Caller skill Falls, 147- Cawein, Madison, 326. Cecil Dreeme, 175. Celebrity, 311. Celestial Railroad, 220. Certain Rich Man, 300. Chambered Nautilus, 255, 413. Chance Acquaintance, 305. Changeling, 246. Channing, W. E., 26, 274, 451. Chapman, J. J., 318. Character of the Province of Maryland, 39, 438. "Charles E. Craddock," 293- 294. Charlotte Temple, 93, 94. Chase of St. Castin, 296. Chatham, Earl, 45, 46. Chaucer, Geoffrey, 42, 153, 244, 342. Cheerful Yesterdays, 316. Child, L. M., 172. Children of Earth, 286. Children of the Night, 330. Chinese Nightingale, 334. Choate, Rufus, 276, 451. Choir Invisible, 294. Chopin, Kate, 293. Chosen Valley, 288. Christ in Hades, 149. Christus, 190. Chronological History of New England, 36, 438. Church, Benjamin, 35, 438, 440. Church, Thomas, 35, 437. Churchill, Charles, 61, 64, 66. Churchill, Winston, 31 1-3 13, 452. Cicero — Be Senectute, trans- lation, 41. Circuit Rider, 291. City in the Sea, 168. Clara Howard, 94, 96, 97, 99. Clari, 114. Clark's Field, 308. Classical influence upon Amer- ican literature, 12, 24, 41, 71-72, 138, 145, 147, 201, 260, 266. Clay, Henry, 275, 452. Clemens, S. L., 289-291, 316, 452. Cleopatra, 176. Clever Stories of Many Nations, 149. Cliff ton, William, 81. Climbers, 341. Clio, 172. Clod, 345. Clough, A. H., 246. Cceur D'Alene, 288. Colcord, Lincoln, 334. Colden, Cadwallader, 39, 438. Coleridge, S. T., 83, 149, 168, 194, 201, 226, 244. Collection of Poems by Several Hands, 37, 365, 438. Colleges, 428. INDEX. 471 Collins, William, 58, 60. Colman, Benjamin, 32, 37, 437, Colonel Carter of Cartersville : 294. Columbiad, 62-63, 377, 442. Columbian Magazine, 369, 428. Columbus, 244. Common Lot, 308. Common Sense, 50, 441. Compromises, 319. Concord Hymn, 208. Confessional, 345. Congo and Other Poems, 334. Coniston, 312. Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, 289. Conqueror Worm, 168, 390. Conquest of Canaan (novel), 291. Conquest of Canaan (poem), 61, 376, 442. Conquest of Louisburg, $j, 438. Conquest of Mexico, 277, 420. Conquest of Peru, 277. Conrad, R. T., 261. Contemplations, 26, 357. Contrast, 90. Cook, Ebenezer, 39, 438. Cook, G. C, 345. Cooke, J. E., 157-158. Cooke, P. P., 153. Cooke, R. T., 285. Coolbrith, I. D., 328. Cooper, J. F. — life, 126-130; works, 101, 126-127, 130- 136; miscellaneous, 156, 157, 293, 383, 452. Coquette, 94. Correspondent, 60. Cotton, John, 19, 22, 25, 29, 360, 435- Country Doctor, 285. Country Lovers, 81. Country of the Pointed Firs, 285. County Road, 286. Court of Fancy, 41, 367, 439. Courtin\ 81, 245. Courtship of Miles Standish, 186-187. Cowper, William, 84, 144, 145. Crabbe, George, 84. Crafts, William, 152. Crane, Stephen, 298. Crawford, F. M., 307. Creative Criticism, 319. Crevecceur, J. H. St. John, 54- _ 55, 373, 442, 452. Crisis (novel), 31 1-3 12. Crisis (pamphlets), 50. Criticism and Fiction, 317. Croaker poems, 113-114. Crossing, 31 1-3 12. Crothers, Rachel, 344. Crothers, S. M., 319. Crowded Street, 143. Crucial Instances, 314. Culprit Fay, 113. Cumberland Vendetta, 295. Cure for the Spleen, 54, 371, 441. Curtis, G. W., 277, 452. Damnation of T her on Ware, 287. Dana, R. H., 26, 170, 452. Dana, R. H., Jr., 174. Dance Figure, 337. Dance to Death, 324. Dante Alighieri, 176, 190, 266, 332. Darling of the Gods, 340. Darwinism and Other Essays, 321. David II arum, 287. 472 INDEX. Davis, R. H., 287. Day of Doom, 27-28, 358, 434. Day is Done, 391. Days, 207, 208, 399. De Senectute — translation, 41. Deacon's Week, 285. Dead House, 246. Death of Cleopatra, 156. Death of General Montgomery, 68, 441. Death of the Flowers, 146. Declaration of Independence, 45. Deephaven, 285. Deer slayer, 134. Deland, Margaret, 307. Demetria, 171. Democracy, 249. Democracy and Poetry, 319. Democratiad, 86, 87. Dennie, Joseph, 79. Denton, Daniel, 39, 438. De Quincey, Thomas, 169. Descent into the Maelstrom, 164. Deukalion, 264. Dial, 210. Dialect Poems, 326. Diary of Samuel Sewall, 34-35, 36i,435. Dickens, Charles, 122, 288, 339. Dickenson, Jonathan, 40-41, 439- Dickinson, Emily, 324, 452. Dickinson, John, 48, 440. Disappointment, 67, 440. Discovery of America, 322. Disinterred Warrior, 143. Divina Commcdia — Parson's translation, 176; Long- fellow's, 190; miscella- neous, 266, 332. Divine Tragedy, 189. Doctor Grimshaw's Secret, 221, 223, 224, 225. Doctor Heidegger's Experiment, 220. Dolliver Romance, 221, 223, 225. Dolph Heyliger, 124. Domain of Arnheim, 166. Dome of Many-Coloured Glass, 337- Donna Florida, 155. Dorothy Q., 255. Douglass, William, 35, 438. Dr. Breeds Practice, 305. Dr. Lavendar's People, 307. Dr. Sevier, 292. Drake, J. R., 113-114, 452. Dream Life, 174. Dream of the Branding of Asses and Horses, 53~54, 37°. Dreamland, 167. Dreiser, Theodore, 309, 452. Drunkards in the Street, 333. Dryden, John, 37, 66, 67. Dukesborough Tales, 293. Dunbar, P. L., 326. Dunlap, William, 91. Dunne, P. F., 320. Dunsany, Lord, 345. Dutchman's Fireside, 113. Dwelling Place of Light, 313. Dwight, Timothy, 59, 61-62, 87, 376, 442, 452. Dying Words of Stonewall Jack- son, 325. Each and All, 207. Eagle's Heart, 291. Earth Triumphant, 334. East Angels, 293. Edgar Huntly, 94, 97-98, 99, 100, 101. INDEX. 473 Edict by the King of Prussia, 56. Edinburgh Review, 1 1 7-1 18. Edwards, Jonathan, 33-34, 191- 192, 360, 438, 452. Eggleston, Edward, 291. Eiron and Charmion, 166. Eleanor a , 165. Elegy on the Times, 60, 441. Eliot, John, 21, 435. Elizabethan Drama, 319. Elsie Venner, 258-259. Embargo, 138. Emerson, R. W. — life, 195- 200; works, 62, 195, 200- 209 ; miscellaneous, 211, 269, 395, 453- Emerson and Other Essays, 318. English, T. D., 261. English influence upon Amer- ican literature, 3, 7-9, 15, 18, 23, 25, 27, 28, 36, 37, 40, 41, 42, 45, 52, 54, 55, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 64, 66, 67, 68, 71-72, 78, 79, 80, 82, 83-86, 89-90, 91, 92, 93, 94, 95, 99, 100, 109, 113, 114, 115, n6, 118, 119, 121, 123, 124, 128, 138, 144, 145, 146, 147, 149, 150, 152, 153, 155, 156, 157, 158, 159, 166, 168, 169, 171, 172, 175, 176, 196, 201, 226, 229, 230, 236, 239, 244, 246, 248, 249, 256, 260, 261, 263, 264, 265, 266, 344, 346-347. English Novel, 317. English Traits, 203. Entertaining Passages Relating to Philip's War, 35, 437- Ephemera, 56. Equality, 298. Essays in Idleness, 319. Essays in London and Else- where, 317. Eternal Goodness, 238. Ethan Frome, 314, 315. Eureka, 163, 164. European (continental) in- fluence upon American literature, 46, 56, 71, 91, 92, 93, 109, 118, 119, 124- 125, 153, 157, 169, 175, 176, 179, 182, 183, 184, 186, 188, 190, 193-195, 201, 226, 260, 263, 265, 335, 344, 347- Eutaw Springs, 65. Evangeline, 185-186, 394. Evans, Nathaniel, 42, 439. Everett, Edward, 276, 454. Examination of Doctor Benjamin Franklin, 56, 440. Excelsior, 183. Exiles, 234. Fable for Critics, 245. Facts in the Case ofM. Valdemar, 164. Fair God, 296. Faith Healer, 330. Fall of British Tyranny, 67, 441. Fall of the House of Usher, 165, 166. Familiar Epistle to a Friend, 246. Fanny, 114. Fanshawe, 220. Far Country, 312-313. Farmer Refuted, 49, 440. Father of an Only Child, 91. " Father Tabb," 326. 474 INDEX. Faust — Bayard Taylor's trans- lation, 265. Fearful Responsibility, 305. FeatJiertop, 220, 342. Federalist, 50-51, 444. Female Quixotism, 94. Fenris the Wolf, 342. Ferdinand and Isabella, 277. Fessenden, T. G., 81-82 Feud, 327. Field, Eugene, 327. Field of Orleans, 88. Fielding, Henry, 123. Fields, J. T., 317. Financier, 309. Fire-Bringer, 330. Fisherman 's Luck, 321. Fiske, John, 296, 321, 322. Fitch, Clyde, 341, 454- Fletcher, J. G., 337. Flood of Years, 143. Florence Vane, 153. Flute and Violin, 294. Folger, Peter, 36, 435. FooVs Errand, 293. Foote, M. H., 288. Forbearance, 208. Ford, P. L., 297, 299. Forest Hymn, 145, 146. Foresters (poem), 84-85. Foresters (tale), 92. Foster, H. W., 94. Four Ages of Man, 26. Foure Elements, 26. Foure Humours, 26. Foure Monarchies, 26, 27. Foure Seasons, 26, 357. Fox, John, Jr., 295. Franklin,, Benjamin, 42, 55-57, 380, 439, 440, 454. Frederic, Harold, 287. "Free Verse,' , 335S37- Freedom of the Will, 33, 192, 438. Freeman, M. E. W., 285, 297. French, Alice, 291. French Dramatists of the Nine- teenth Century, 317. French Traits, 318. Freneau, Philip, 59, 63-65, 378, ^428, 443, 454. Froissart Ballads, 153. Frontenac, 116. Frost, Robert, 331, 454. Fruit of the Tree, 314. Full Vindication of the Measures of the Congress, 49, 440. Fuller, Margaret (see Ossoli, S. M. F.). Gallegher, 287. Gallic Perfidy, 37-38, 438. Garland, Hamlin, 291. Gay, John, 58, 60. General Idea of the College of Mirania, 41, 438. General William Booth Enters into Heaven, 334. Genius, 309. Gentle Reader, 319. Gentleman from Indiana, 291. " George Eliot," 314. Georgia Sketches, 293. Gettysburg, 342. Gettysburg Address, 419. Ghosts of an Old House, 337 Gilded Age, 316. Gilder, R. W., 324. Gillette, William, 340. Girl of the Golden West, 340. Gladiator, 261. Glaspell, Susan, 345. Gloucester Moors, 329. INDEX. 475 Goblins and Pagodas, 337. Godfrey, Thomas, 41-42, 367, 439- God's Protecting Providence, 41, 439- Godwin, William, 95, 99, 156. Goethe, J. W., 182, 186, 194, 263, 265. Gold Bug, 164. Golden Legend, 189-190. Golden Wedding, 295. Goldsmith, Oliver, 59, 60, 62, 83, 124. Good-Bye, 208. "Good Gray Poet," 267. Good Men and True, 288. Good Spec., 91. Gookin, Daniel, 21, 435. Gordon, William, 51, 444. Grandfather's Chair, 219. Grandissimes, 292. Grant, U. S., 322, 454. Grave, John, 13, 432. Gray, Thomas, 58, 60, 64, 86. Gray Days and Gold, 318. Gray Forest-Eagle, 116. Great Adventure of Max Breach, Great Divide, 330, 341. Great Valley, 333. Greater Inclination, 314. Greek Genius and Other Essays, 318. Green, Joseph, 37, 366, 438. Green River, 146. Greene, A. G., 173. Greenfield Hill, 62, 442. Greyslaer, 115. Group (play), 67, 440. Group (poem), 81. Guardian Angel, 258. Guillotina, 86. Gummere, F. B., 319. "H. H.," 297-298. Hail Columbia, 88. Hale, E. E., 300. Halleck, Fitz-Greene, 114, 454. Hamilton, Alexander, 49, 50, 440, 444, 454. Hammond, John, 12, 432. Hans Breitman's Ballads, 262. Happiness of America, 59, 443. Harris, J. C, 295, 326. Harte, F.B., 287-288, 327, 455. Harvest Moon, 331. Hasty-Pudding, 63, 377, 442. Haunted Palace, 168. Hawthorne, 317. Hawthorne, Nathaniel — life, 178, 214-219; works, 214, 2 1 9-2 2 7 ; miscellaneous, 100,141, 142,342,401,455. Hay, John, 298, 327. Hayne, P. H., 153, 455- Hazard of New Fortunes, 306. He and She, 344. Heart's Highway, 297. Heidenmauer, 130. Held by the Enemy, 340. Hemans, F. D., 171. Henry, Patrick, 46, 456. Henry Irving, 318. Her Husband's Wife, 343. Herfords, 344. Hermit of Saba, 64. Heme, J. A., 339. Herrick, Robert (English poet), 64, 326- Herrick, Robert (novelist), 308, 456. Hesperia, 152. 476 INDEX. Hiawatha, 187-189. Higginson, T. W., 316. Hillhouse, J. A., 171. Historical Novel, 317. History of American Literature, 3*9- History of Carolina, 38, 439. History of Elvira, 93. History of Literary Criticism in the Renaissance, 319. History of Maria Kittle, 92. History of New England, 19, 433. History of Plymouth, 18, 353, 433. History of the American People, 322. History of the Dividing Line, 15, 352, 432, 433. History of the First Discovery and Settlement of Virginia, 16, 36, 433- History of the Five Indian Na- tions, 39, 438. History of the Naval War of 181 2, 322. History of the Province of Massa- chusetts Bay, 51, 444. History of the Province of New York, 40, 438. History of the United Nether- lands, 278. History of the United States, by Bancroft, 277-278. History of Virginia, 15, 432. Hobomok, 172. Hoffman, C. F., 115. Holland, J. G., 176. Holmes, O. W. — life, 250-254; works, 251, 254-260; mis- cellaneous, 412, 456. Home, Sweet Home, 114. Homer, 147. Homeward Bound, 130. Honorable Peter Stirling, 299. Hood, Thomas, 149. Hooker, Thomas, 21, 22, 355, 434, 456. Hoosier Schoolmaster, 291. Hope Leslie, 172. Hopkins, Lemuel, 59, 87, 442. Hopkinson, Francis, 53, 54, 440. Hopkinson, Joseph, 88. Horse-Shoe Robinson, 154. House by the Sea, 261. House of Mirth, 314. House of Night, 64, 378. House of the Seven Gables, 221, 223, 224, 225, 227. Hovey, Richard, 328. How Love Looked for Hell, 325. How the Women Went from Dover, 236. Howard, Bronson, 339. Howard, Martin, 47. Howe, J. W., 174, 307. Howells, W. D., 304-307, 308, 456. Hoyt, Ralph, 116. Hubbard, William, 35, 436. 1 Hubert and Ellen, 8$. Huckleberry Finn, 290. Hugh Wynne, Free Quaker, 296. Humanly Speaking, 319. Humble Romance, 286. Humphreys, David, 59, 442, 443- Hunt, Leigh, 89. Hurricane, 145. Husband, Joseph, 320. Hutchinson, Thomas, 51, 444. 1 Hutton, Joseph, 84, 88. Hylas, 264. ' INDEX. 477 Hymns of the Marshes, 325. Hymns to the Gods, 173. Hyperion, 179, 182. I Have a Rendezvous with Death, 338. I Heard Immanuel Singing, 334. Ichabod, 235, 404. Idea of God, 321. Idomen, 171. "Ik Marvel," 174. Iliad — Bryant's translation, 147-148. Imagists, 335-33%, 45°- In a Castle, 338. In Happy Valley, 295. In Ole Virginia, 294. In School Days, 236. In the Clouds, 294. In the Tennessee Mountains, 294. In War Time, 235. Indian Burying Ground, 65. Indian Girl's Lament, 143. Indian Summer Reverie, 244. Indian's Bride, 153. Indians in American literature, 12, 18, 19, 20-21, 31, 35, 37, 38, 39, 4o, 59, 65, 67, 83, 92, 98, no, 113, 114, US, 116, 127, 132,133,134, 143, 153, 155, 156, 187-188, 234, 297-298,351,353,365. Industry of the United States, 59. Influence of Sea Power upon History, 322. Innocents Abroad, 289. Inscription for the Entrance to a Wood, 139, 145, 146. Inside of the Cup, 312, 313. Irene, 244. Iron Heel, 310. Iron Woman, 307, 308. Irving, Washington — life, 116- 121; works, 117, 121-126; miscellaneous, 174, 182, 190, 249, 316, 381, 456. Isaac and Archibald, 331. Island in the South, 153. Island of the Fay, 166. Israfel, 167, 168. Italian Banditti, 124. Jackson, H. H., 297-298. Jacquerie, 325. James, Henry, 301-304, 305, 307, 314, 457. James, William, 321. Jane Talbot, 94, 96, 99, 100. Janice Meredith, 297. Jay, John, 50. Jeanne d'Arc, 342. Jefferson, Thomas, 45-46, 52, 457. Jerome, a Poor Young Man, 286. Jewett, S. O., 285, 297. "Joaquin Miller," 327, 460. John Brent, 175. John Ward, Preacher, 307. Johnson, Edward, 20, 434, 457. Johnston, Mary, 296. Johnston, R. M., 293. Jonathan Oldstyle letters, 121. Jones, Hugh, 15, 432. Josh Billings: His Book, 273. Journal of Bradford and Wins- low, 18, 353, 433. Journal of John Winthrop, 433. Journal of John Woolman, 52- 53, 44i. Journal of Sarah K. Knight, 35, 3t>3, 437. 478 INDEX. Journey from Philadelphia to New York, 64, 443. Judas MaccabaiiSj 189. Judd, Sylvester, 173-174. Judith, Esther, etc., 1 71-172. Judith and Holof ernes, 323. June, 146. Jungle, 299. Jupiter Lights, 293. Justice and Expediency, 238. Kant, Immanuel, 193-194. Katharine Walton, 157. Katherine Lauderdale, 307. Kavanagh, 182. Keats, John, 89, 149, 150, 168, 244, 323, 337, 338. Keep Cool, 171. Keimer, Samuel, 41. Kennedy, J. P., 154. Kentucky Cardinal, 294. Key, F. S., 88. King, G. E., 292. King Coal, 299. King Philip's War, 35. Kinsmen, 157. Kipling, Rudyard, 298. Knapp, Francis, 37. Knickerbocker's History of New York, 118, 122-123. Knight, H. C, 84. Knight, S. K., 35, 363, 437. Knitters in the Sun, 291. Ladd, J. B., 59, 443. Ladies of Castile, 67. Lady, 338. Lady Eleanor's Mantle, 220. Lady of Fort St. John, 296. Lady or the Tiger, 301. Lamb, Charles, 53. Landor, W. S., 156, 244, 326. Landor's Cottage, 166. Lanier, Sidney, 317, 324-326, 329, 457- Larcom, Lucy, 323. Lars, 264. Last Leaf, 255, 412. Last of the Mohicans, 133, 134, 3^3- Laurens, Henry, 52, 368, 441. Lawson, John, ^8, 439. Lay of the Scotch Fiddle, 113. Lay Preacher, 79. Lays of the Heart, 171. Lazarus, Emma, 324, 458. Leaf and Tendril, 320. Leah and Rachel, 13, 432. Learning and Other Essays, 318. Leatherwood God, 306. Led-Horse Claim, 288. Legare, J. M., 153. Legend of Brittany, 244. Legend of Sleepy Hollow, 123, 381. Legends and Lyrics, 154. Leggett, William, 116. Leicester, 91. Leisure Day Rhymes, 149. Leisure Hours, 84. Leland, C. G., 261-262. Leonard, Daniel, 49, 441. ■ Letter from a Gentleman at Hali- fax, 47. Letters from an American Farmer, 54~55, 373, 442. Letters from a Farmer in Penn- sylvania, 48, 440. Letters of the British Spy, 79. Letters of John and Margaret Winthrop, 19, 354, 433- Letters to Young Ladies, 171. INDEX. 479 Lewis, M. G., 84. Life and Art of Edwin Booth, 318. Life and Character of Patrick Henry, 79. Life and Sayings of Mrs. Part- ington, 273. Life for a Life, 308. Life of Columbus, 125. Life of Franklin Pierce, 219. Life of Goldsmith, 125. Life of Washington, 79. Life on the Mississippi, 290. Life on the Ocean Wave, 173. Ligeia, 165, 166. Lighthouse, 184. Lincoln, Abraham, 276-277, 419, 458. Lindsay, N. V., 333. Lines on Revisiting the Country, 146. Linn, J. B., 83, 93. Linwoods, 172. Literary History of America, 319. Literary History of the American Revolution, 319. Little Britain, 123. Little People of the Snow, 147. Little Rivers, 321. Little Shepherd of Kingdom Come, 295. "Little Theatres," 344-345. Livingston, William, 40, 439. Locke, D. R., 274, 458. Logan, James, 41, 439. London, Jack, 310. Longfellow, H. W. — life, 177- 182; works, 177-178, 182- 191 ; miscellaneous, 163, 246, 323, 39i, 458. Longfellow, Samuel, 173. Looking Backward, 298, 299. Lord, W. W., 149. Lost Occasion, 235. Lounsbury, T. R., 319. LoveweWs Fight, 37. Lowell, Amy, 336, 3S7S3^ 459- Lowell, J. R. — life, 239-244 ; works, 240, 244-250; mis- cellaneous, 163, 318, 332, 407, 459- Luck of Roaring Camp, 288. Lunt, George, 173. Lynchers, 327. Lyrics from a Library, 324. MacKaye, Percy, 34i~343, 345- Mackenzie, Henry, 79. Macpherson, James, 59, 266, 271. Madame Butterfly, 340. Madame Delphine, 292. Madison, James, 50. Magazines, 53, 58, 77, 107, 116, 427. Maggie, a Girl of the Streets, 298. Magnolia, 30-31, 359, 436. Mahan, A. T., 322. Main-Travelled Roads, 291. Main Truck, 115. Major Andre, 341. Man with the Hoe, 329. Man without a Country, 300. Man's World, 344. Marble Faun, 221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 226, 227. Marco Bozzaris, 114. Margaret, 174. Margaret Smith's Journal, 238. "Maria del Occidente," 171- 172. Marion Darche, 307. 480 INDEX. Marjorie Daw, 300. ''Mark Twain," 289-291, 316, 452. Markham, Edwin, 329. Markoe, Peter, 58, 68, 443. Marks, J. P. P., 331, 343. Marlowe, 343. Married or Single, 172. Marse Chan, 294. Marshall, John, 79. Martin Eden, 310. Masefield, John, 334. Mason, John, 21, 435, 460. Masque of Judgment, 329, 330. Masque of Pandora, 189. Masque of the Gods, 264. Masque of the Red Death, 165. Masquerade, 149. "Massachusettensis," 49, 441. Massachusetts to Virginia, 235. Masters, E. L., 332~333, 460. Mater, 342. Mather, Cotton, 29-32, 36, 359, 436, 437, 460. Mather, Increase, 29, 31, 436. Matthews, Brander, 317. Maud Midler, 236. Maupassant, Guy de, 287. May Day, 91. Maylem, John, 37-38, 438. Meadow Grass, 286. Meat out of the Eater, 27, 434. Meddler, 60. Meditations in America, 149. Meditations of Anne Bradstreet, 27. Meeting, 238. Melville, Herman, 148-149, 460. Memoirs of U. S. Grant, 322. Mercedes, 132. Mere Literature, 323. Merlin, 207. Mesmeric Revelation, 164. "Metaphysical" poets, 25, 27, 36, 37- Mettle of the Pasture, 294. M'Fingal, 60, 376, 441. Michael Angelo, 189. Middle Atlantic States, 76, 77, 112-113, 286-287. Midge, 287. Midnight Mass for the Dying Year, 183. Mifflin, Lloyd, 324. Miller, C. H., 327, 460. Miller, H. M., 321. Milton, John, 23, 28, 64, 149, 155, 3io- Minister's Black Veil, 220. Minister's Wooing, 284. Minute Men, 339. Miss Lucinda, 285. Mitchell, D. G., 174. Mitchell, L. E., 340. Mitchell, S. W., 296. Mizzoura, 340. Moby Dick, 149. Moccasin Ranch, 291. Modern Chivalry, 93. Modern Instance, 305. Mogg Megone, 234. Money-Diggers, 124. Money-King, 149. Monikins, 130. Monos and Una, 166. Monsieur Motte, 292. Monument Mountain, 143. Moody, W. V., 329, 341, 460. Moore, Thomas, 89, 115, 153, 155, 172. Moral Pieces, 171. More, P. E., 318. INDEX. 481 Morella, 166. Moriah's Mourning, 295. Morrell, William, 24, 433. Morris, G. P., 115. Mortal Antipathy, 258. Morton, Nathaniel, 24, 435. Morton, Sarah, 83. Morton, Thomas, 19, 433. Mosses from an Old Manse, 219- 220, 401. Motley Assembly, 68, 441. Motley, J. L., 278, 421, 460. Mountain of the Lovers, 154. Mountains of California, 321. Mourt's Relation, 433. Mr. Dooley in Peace and in War, 320. Mrs. Bullfrog, 220. MS. Found in a Bottle, 160. Muir, John, 321, 460. Murders in the Rue Morgue, 164. Murfree, M. N., 293-294. Music and Poetry, 317. My Double and How He Undid Me, 300. My First Summer in the Sierra, 321. My Garden Acquaintance, 249. My Life Is Like the Summer Rose, 152. My Mother's Bible, 115. My Summer in a Garden, 316. My Winter on the Nile, 316. Mysterious Stranger, 289. Mystery of Marie Roget, 164. Mystery of Witchface Moun- tains, 294. Mystic Trumpeter, 273. Narrative of A. Gordon Pym, 164, 165. Narrative of the Captivity of Mrs. Rowlandson, 35, 365, 436. Narrative of the Indian Wars, 436. Narrative of the Troubles with the Indians, 35, 436. Nasby Papers, 274. Nathan Hale, 341. Nathaniel Hawthorne, 318. Nature and Elements of Poetry, 3i7. Nature in American literature, 59, 61-62, 83, 84-86, 89, 109-110, in, 113, 115, 116, 118, 126, 127, 133, 134, 138, 143-147, 148, 184, 207, 208, 212, 213, 221, 223, 239, 244- 245, 273. Nature, 207. Neal, John, 88-90, 171. New Description of Carolina, 38, 438. New England, 16-18, 21-23, 28-29, 76, 77, 9*, 177, 183, 191-195, 254-255, 259, 260, 284-286. New England Nun, 286. New England Primer, 429. New England Tale, 172. New England Tragedies, 189. New England's Memorial, 24, 25, 435- New English Canaan, 19, 433. New Pastoral, 261. " New Poetry," 333S3^y 45°- New Voyage to Georgia, 39, 439. Nciv York Idea, 340. Newspapers, 53, 77, 107, 426. Nick of the Woods, 261. Nigger, 343- 482 INDEX. Night Before, 330. Night in Arcadie, 293. • Nights with Uncle Remus, 295. Niles, Samuel, 37, 438. Norman Maurice, 156. Norris, Frank, 298. North American Review, 107, 139, 249, 428. North of Boston, 331. Norton, John, 36. Norwood, 285. Not Yet, 139. Note-Books of Hawthorne,- 219, 223. Nothing to Wear, 149. Nova Anglia, 24, 433. Noyes, Nicholas, 37. Captain! My Captain, 269, 416. "O.Henry," 311, 462. Oakes, Urian, 36, 435. "Octave Thanet," 291. Octopus, 299. Ode in Memory of the American Volunteers, 338. Ode in Time of Hesitation, 329. Ode Recited at the Harvard Com- memoration, 246. Ode to France, 244. Ode to Happiness, 246. Odell, Jonathan, 66, 441. Odyssey, Bryant's translation, 147-148. Of Plimoth Plantation, 353, 433. Oh Fairest of the Rural Maids, 146. Old Chester Tales, 307. Old Clock on the Stairs, 183, 392. Old Creole Days, 292. Old Grimes, 173. Old Ironsides, 252. Old Madame and Other Tragedies, 285. Old Master and Other Political Essays, 323. Old Oaken Bucket, 115. Old Town Folks, 284. Old Virginia and Her Neighbors, 322. Olio, 87. "Olive Thorn Miller," 321. On a Beautiful Lady with a Loud Voice, 58. On a Bust of Dante, 176. On a Certain Condescension in Foreigners, 249. On a Honey Bee, 64. On a Soldier Fallen in the Philippines, 329. One-Hoss Shay, 255. One Woman 1 s Life, 308. Orientalism, 201, 264-265, 266. Ormond, 94, 96, 99, 100. Orta-Undis, 153. Osgood, F. S., 173. "Ossian," 59, 266, 271, 335. Ossoli, S. M. F., 210, 460. Other House, 304. Otis, James, 46, 47, 439. Oudbi, 83. Our National Parks, 321. Our Old Home, 219. Ourselves, 344. Outcasts of Poker Flat, 288. Outre-Mer, 182. Over the Tea-Cups, 258. Ovid — Metamorphoses, Sandys' translation, 12, 432. Page, T. N., 294. Paine, R. T., 80. INDEX. 483 Paine, Thomas, 50, 79, 428, 441, 460. Pains of Memory, 80. Painted Cup, 147. Pan in Love, 176. Pan in Wall Street, 323. Paradise, 286. Pardoner's Wallet, 319. Park-Street Papers, 318. Parker, Theodore, 274, 460. Parkman, Francis, 278, 296, 423, 461. Parsons, T. W., 176, 461. Partial Portraits, 317. Parting Glass, 64. Partisan, 157. Passage to India, 272. Pathfinder, 134, 135, 136. Patriot Chief, 68, 443. Patrolling Barnegat, 273. Patterns, 338. Paul Felton, 170. Paulding, J. K., 113, 121, 461. Paulding, William, 121. Payne, J. H., 114-115. Peabodv, J. P. (see Marks, J. P. P.). Pearl of Orr J s Island, 284. Pembroke, 286. Pendennis, 340. Penhallow, Samuel, 35, 437. Penn, William, 40, 439. Pennsylvania Idyls, 264. Pennsylvania Pilgrim, 237. Percival, J. G., 172-173, 461. Perry, Bliss, 318. Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc, 289. Peters, Phillis Wheatley, 58, 440. "Petroleum V. Nasby," 274, 458. Philip and His Wife, 307. Philip Nolan's Friends, 300. Phillips, Wendell, 27, 277, 461. Philo, 174. Philosophic Solitude, 40, 439. Philosophy of Composition, 166. Piatt, John, 327. Piazza Tales, 149. Pictures from Appledore, 245. Pictures of Columbus, 64. Pierpont, John, 170. Pietas et Gratulatio, 38, 438. Pike, Albert, 173. Pike County Ballads, 327. Pilot, 130, 135. Pinckney, Eliza, 38-39, 439. Pinkney, E. C, 153. Pioneers, 134. Pioneers of France in the New World, 423. Piper, 343. Pipes at Lucknow, 236. Pit, 299. Pit and the Pendulum, 164. Plato, 201. Poe, E. A. — life, 158-163; works, 100, 158, 163-170; miscellaneous, 180, 226, 227, 325, 387, 461. Poem Spoken at Commencement at Yale College, 62, 442. Poems of the Orient, 264. Poems on Slavery, 184. Poet at the Breakfast Table, 258. Poetic Principle, 163. Poets of America, 317. Political Balance, 64. Political Green-House, 87. Ponteach, 66-67, 439- 4«4 INDEX. Poor Margaret Dwy, 84. Poor Richard's Almanac, 56-57, 439- Pope, Alexander, 37, 57, 58, 59, 61, 64, 66, 80, 83, 86, 256. Porcupiniad, 87. Porter, W. S., 311, 462. Pound, Ezra, 337, 462. Power of Fancy, 64. Power of Solitude, 80. Pragmatism, 321. Prairie (novel), 134-135. Prairie (poem), 146. Praxiteles and Phryne, 176. Prayer of Columbus, 272. Precaution, 128. Precinct, Rochester, 338. Prescott, W. H., 277, 420, 462. Present State of Virginia, 15, 432. Present State of Virginia and the College, 15. Pretty Story, 54, 440. Prince, Thomas, 36, 438. Prince and the Pauper, 289. Prince of Parthia, 42, 367, 439. Princess Casamassima, 304. Prisoners of Hope, 296. Problem, 398. Procession of Life, 220. Professor at the Breakfast Table, 258. Progress, 149. Progress of Dulness, 60, 375, 441. Prometheus (by Percival), 172. Prometheus (by Lowell), 244. Prophet, 264. Prophet of the Great Smoky Mountains, 294. Prospect of Peace, 62, 442. Proud Miss Macbride, 149. Providence Gazette, 370. Provincetown Plays, 345. Prudence Palfrey, 300. Psalm of Life, 183. Psalm of the West, 325. Psalms, Hymns, and Spiritual Songs, 25, 434. Pudd'nhead Wilson, 2go. Purloined Letter, 164. Queen of Sheba, 301. Rain-Dream, 146. ifozT* w& Summer, 184* Rainbow, 344. Rainy Day, 183. Raleigh, Walter, 27. Ralph, James, 41 » Ralstons, 307. Ramonaj 298. Ramsay, David, 51, 444. ••■■ Randolph, John, 78-79, 462* j Randolph of Roanoke, 235. Rationale of Verse, 163. Raven, 166, 169. Read, T. B., 261, 462. Realism, 284, 308, 309. Rebels, 172. i?ed Badge of Courage, 298. ifo/ Jacket, 114. /Serf 2?0c&, 294. 2?erf Rover, 130, 135. Redeemed Captive, 35, 437. \ Redskins, 130. Redwood, 172. Reign of Law, 294. Religious Aspect of Philosophy ', 321. Repplier, Agnes, 319. Restoration Drama, 42, 67. Reuben and Rachel, 94. INDEX. 485 Reuben Bright, 330. Rev. Griffith Davenport, 339. Revenge of H amis h, 325. Reveries of a Bachelor, 1 74. Rhodes, E. M., 288. Rhoecus, 244. Richard Carvel, 311, 313. Richard Edney, 174. Richardson, C. F., 319. Richardson, Samuel, 94. Rights of the British Colonies As- serted and Proved, 47, 439. Rights of Man, 79. Riley, J. W., 327. Rill from the Town Pump, 220. Rip Van Winkle, 118, 123. Rise of Silas Lapham, 305. Rise of the Dutch Republic, 278, 421. Rising Tide, 307. River's Children, 295. Road-Hymn for the Start, 329. Roads from Rome, 320. Robert of Lincoln, 146. Robinson, E. A., 330. Robinson, R. E., 286. Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep, 173. Roderick Hudson, 303. Rodman the Keeper, 293. Rodolph, 153. Rogers, John, $6. Rogers, Robert, 67, 439. Rogers, Samuel, 80. Romance, 343. Romance of Dollar d, 296. Romanticism, 59, 64, 79-80, 82-86, 95-101, 13S, 195, 226. Roosevelt, Theodore, 322. Rosaline, 244. Rose, Aquila, 41. Rose of the Rancho, 340. Rowlandson, Mary, 35, 365, 462. Rowson, S. H., 81, 93-94. Roxy, 291. Royce, Josiah, 321. Rudder Grange, 301. Rules for Reducing a Great Em- pire to a Small One, 56. Ruling Passion, 80. Rumford, Count, 79. Rural Funerals, 123. Rural Telephone, 285. Rush, Benjamin, 79. Russell, Irwin, 326. Sabbath-Day Chase, 64. Sack of Rome, 67. Sag Harbor, 339. ^ Saint Louts, a Civic Masque, 345. Salmagundi, 113, 118, 1 21-122. Salvation Nell, 343. Sam Average, 342. Sanctuary, a Bird Masque, 345. Sands, R. C, 116. Sandys, George, 12. Sappho and Phaon, 342. Saracinesca, 307. Sarah, 94. Saratoga, 339. Sargent, Epes, 173. Sargent, L. M., S3. Satanstoe, 132. "Saturday Club," 253. Saxe, J. G., 149. Scarecrow, 342. Scarlet Letter, 220, 221, 222, 223, 224, 225, 227. Schelling, F. E., 319. Science of English Verse, 317. 486 INDEX. Scollard, C. D., 324. Scott, Walter, 65, 79, 83, 90, 113, 116, 122; and Cooper, 128, 130, 133, 136; 149, i53> J 56, 172, 230, 239, 261, 265. Scribner's Monthly, 292. Sea Wolf, 310. Seabury, Samuel, 48-49, 440. Seccomb, John, 37, 437. Secret of the Sea, 184. Secret Service, 340. Sedgwick, C. M., 172. Seeger, Alan, 338, 462. Self- Reliance, 395. Sella, 147. Septimius Felton, 221, 223. Seth's Brother's Wife, 287. Seven Dreamers, 286. Seventy-Six, 171. Sewall, J. M., 88. Sewall, Samuel, 34-35, 361, 435- Shaded Water, 156. Shadow, a Parable, 387. Shadows of the Stage, 318. Shakespeare as a Dramatic Artist, 3i9- Shakespeare as a Playwright, 317. Shakespeare's England, 318. Shakspere and His Forerunners, 3*7- Shakspere, William, 12, 27, 42, 64, 67, 155, 230, 266. Sharp, D. L., 321. Shaw, H. W., 273. Shelburne Essays, 318. Sheldon, E. B., 343. Shelley, P. B., 89, 155, 168, 169, 172, 226, 244, 264. Shenandoah, 339. Shepard, Thomas, 22, 434, 435. Sheridan's Ride, 261. Shillaber, B. P., 273, 462. Shippen, Joseph, 41. Shore Acres, 339. Short Sixes, 287. 'Sieur George, 292. Signs of A po stacy Lamented, 29. Sigourney, L. H., 171. Sill, E. R., 324, 462. Simms, W. G., 154-157, 462. Simple Cobler of Aggawam, 24, 356, 434. Sinclair, Upton, 299. Singing Leaves, 331. Singing Man, 331. Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God, 33, 361, 438. Sirens, 244. Sister Carrie, 309. Sisters' Tragedy, 323. Skeleton in Armour, 183. Sketch Book, 122, 123, 381. " Sketch Club," 142. Skipper Ireson's Ride, 236. Sky Walk, 94. Slave Ships, 235. Slaves of Martinique, 235. Slosson, A. T., 286. Smith, Capt. John, 12, 351, 432, _ 433, 462. Smith, F. H., 294. Smith, S. F., 173. Smith, Sydney, 117, 275. Smith, William, 40, 438. Smith, William, 41, 438. Smollett, Tobias, 93, 124. S now-Bound, 230, 232, 236-237, 406. Snow Image, 220, 226. Snow-Shower, 146. Socialism, 298, 299. INDEX. 487 Some Imagist Poets, 337, 338. Somebody } s Neighbors, 285. Son of Wolf, 310. Song of a Virginia Slave Mother, 235- Song of Marion 1 s Men, 142. Song of Sion, 13, 432. Songs and Ballads, 156. Songs and Ballads of the Amer- ican Revolution, 374, 442. Songs and Satires, 333. Songs from the Golden Gate, 328. Songs from Vagabondia, 328. Songs of Labor, 235. Songs of the Sea, 173. Sot-Weed Factor, 39, 438. South, 76, 150-152, 291-295, 324-327, 447- Southey, Robert, 144, 145, 172. Spanish Student, 189. Spenser, Edmund, 26, 27, 62. Spingarn, J. E., 319. Spirit of Poetry, 184. Spofford, H. P., 285. Spoon River Anthology, 332. Sprague, Charles, 170. Spy, 128, 132. Star-Spangled Banner, 88. Stars of the Summer Night , 189. State, 323. Stedman, E. C, 317, 323, 462. Sterne, Lawrence, 79, 123. Stevenson, R. L., 288. Stillwater Tragedy, 298. Stirling, Lord, 28. Stith, Rev. William, 16, 36, 433. Stockton, F. R., 301. Stoddard, R. H., 462. Stories of a Western Town, 291. Story, Joseph, 80. ,<« Story, W. W., 175-176. Story of a Bad Boy, 300. Story of a New York House, 287. Story of Henry and Anne, 93. Story of Thyrza, 286. Stout Gentleman, 1 24. Stowe, H. B., 174-175, 284, 462. Strachey, William, 12, 432. Strange Lady, 147. Strange Stories by a Nervous Gentleman, 124. Stratford-on-Avon, 123. Street, A. B., 116. Stuart, R. M., 295. Student of Salamanca, 124. Studies in Chaucer, 319. Studies in Letters and Life, 318. Studies in Shakespeare, 319. Study of Prose Fiction, 318. Summer, 314, 315. Summer in Arcady, 294. Summer in the South, 156. Summer Ramble, 146. Summer Wind, 146. Summer's Day, 85-86. Sumner, Charles, 277, 463. Sunday at Home, 220. Suppressed Desires, 345. Supremacy, 330. Swift, Dean, 93. Swinburne, A. C, 328. Sword Blades and Poppy Seed, 336, 337- Sword of Bunker Hill, 149. Sylphs of the Seasons, 82, 85. Symphonies, 337. Synge, J. M., 345. . Tabb, J. B., 326. Tailfer, Patrick, 39, 439- \ Tales of a Traveller, 1 24. Tales of a Wayside Inn, 189. 488 INDEX. Tanglewood Tales, 219. Tarkington, Booth, 291. Taylor, Bayard, — life, 262- 263 ; works, 262, 264-265 ; miscellaneous, 463. Telling the Bees, 236, 405. T ell-Tale Heart, 165. Temptation of Venus, 153. Tenney, T. G., 94. Tennyson, Lord, 63, 147, 149, 150, 153.175)244, 246, 323, 328, 337. Tenth Muse, 26, 357, 434. Tent on the Beach, 232, 237. Terminus, 208. Terrible Tr adoration, 82. Thackeray, W. M., 158, 311, 3H, 34o. Thanatopsis, 138, 139, 144, 385. Thaxter, C. L., 323. "Theresa," 81. Thessalonica, 95, 100. Thomas, A. E., 343. Thomas, Augustus, 340, 463. Thomas, Gabriel, 40, 439. Thompson, J. R., 153. Thompson, Maurice, 297. Thomson, Benjamin, 37. Thomson, James, 62. Thoreau, H. D., 210-213, 320, 400, 463. Thousand Years Ago, 342. Three Fates, 307. Three of Us, 344. Timrod, H. B., 153, 463. Titan, 309. Tiverton Tales, 286. To a Cloud, 147. To a Waterfowl, 138, 146, 386. To Faneuil Hall, 235. To Have and to Hold, 297. To Helen, 390. To Perdita Singing, 244. To the Dandelion, 244, 407. To the Fringed Gentian, 65, 146. To the Man-of-War Bird, 273, 417. Tolstoi, L. N., 298, 304. Tom Sawyer, 290. Tom Thornton, 170. To-morrow, 342. Torrey, Bradford, 321. Tortesa the Usurer, 115. Tory Lover, 297. Tourgee, A. W., 293. Toward the Gulf, 333. Transcendentalism, 177, 191- 195, 204-205, 446. Trials of the Human Heart, 93. Trifles, 345. Trinitas, 238. True and Historical Narration of Georgia, 39, 439. Trumbull, John, 59, 60-61, 375, 441, 442. Truth, 341. Tuckerman, H. T., 116. Turn of the Screw, 303. Turns and Movies, 334. Turrell, Jane, 37, 438. Twice-Told Tales, 219-220. Two Bites at a Cherry, 301. Two Years before the Mast, 1 74. Tyler, M. C., 319. Tyler, Royall, 90-91, 93. Ulalume, 167, 168, 169. Uncle Lisha's Shop, 286. Uncle Remus and His Friends, 295- Uncle Remus, His Songs and Sayings, 295. INDEX. 489 Uncle Tom y s Cabin, 174. Under the Old Elm, 246. Under the Willows, 245. Undiscovered Country, 306. Unitarianism, 177, 446. Unseen World, 321. Valerian, 83. Van Bibber and Others, 287. Van Dyke, Henry, 321. Vanderlyn, 115. Vanity Fair, 340. Varieties of Religious Experience, 321. Vaudois Teacher, 237. Vers libre, 33SS37- Very, Jones, 210, 464. Victoria, 93. Victorian Poets, 317. Victorian Prose Masters, 318. Village Blacksmith, 183. Village Dressmaker, 285. Village Merchant, 64, 443. Virginal, 337. Virginia, 8, 11, 13-15- Virginia Comedians, 158. Virginian, 291. Vision of Columbus, 62, 442. Vision of Sir Launfal, 244. Vision of War, 334. Ftfic&y of Freedom, 234-235. Voluntaries, 400. Wages of Sin, 285. Wagoner of the Alleghanies, 261. Waiting by the Gate, 143. Wake-Robin, 320. W olden, 400. Wallace, Lewis, 296. Wallace, W. R., 149. Wa// Whitman, His Life and Work, 318. War Lyrics, 174. Ward, Nathaniel, 24, 356, 434, 464. Ware, William, 172. Warner, C. D., 316, 464. Warren, Mercy, 51, 67, 440, 444, 464- Warton, Joseph, 86. Washington, George, 52, 464. Washington Square Plays, 345. Wayfarers, 331. Ways of Nature, 320. Webb, George, 41, 439. Webster, Daniel, 229, 235, 275- 276, 418, 464. Webster, Noah, 79, 464. Wendell, Barrett, 319. ^ West — Far, 77, 287-288, 321, 327-328; Middle, 76, 289- 291, 327. "Westchester Farmer," 48-49, 440. Westcott, E. N., 287. Westminster Abbey, 123. Wharton, Edith, 313-315, 464. Wheatley, Phillis, 58, 440. When God Laughs, 310. Whipple, E. P., 175. Whisper to a Bride, 171. Whispers of Heavenly Death, 417. Whistle, 56. White Fang, 310. White, H. K., 144. White, R. G., 319. White, W. A., 300. Whitman, S. H., 173. Whitman, Walt — life, 265- 267; works, 265, 267-273; 490 INDEX. miscellaneous, 309, 334, 335, 4i6, 465. Whittier, J. G. — life, 228-234; works, 228, 232, 234-239; miscellaneous, 323, 332, 404, 465. Whole Booke of Psalmes, 25, 433. Wielandy 94, 98, 99. Wigglesworth, Michael, 27-28, 358, 434- Wild Honeysuckle j 64, 65, 379. Wilde, Percival, 345, 465. Wilde, R. H., 152. Wilderness Hunter, 322. Wilkins, M. E. (see Freeman, M. E. W.). Will to Believe, 321. Willard, E. H., 173. William Wilson, 165. Williams, John, 35, 437. Williams, Roger, 23-24, 29, 434, 435, 466. Willis, N. P., 1 15-116,466. Wilson, Alexander, 84. Wilson, Woodrow, 322, 466. Wind and Stream, 147. Windham Towers, 323. Wing-and-Wing, 130. Wings of the Dove, 302. Winning of the West, 322. Winslow, Edward, 18, 353, 433. Winter Sunshine, 320. Winter, William, 318. Winthrop, John, 19, 433, 466. Winthrop, Margaret, 19, 354, 433- Winthrop, Theodore, 175. Wirt, William, 79. Wise, John, 32, 437. Wister, Owen, 291. WitcKs Daughter, 236. Witchcraft, 31-32, no, 189, 222, 255, 361, 436, 446. Witching Hour, 340. With Husky-Haughty Lips, Sea, 273. Wolcott, Roger, 37, 437- Wolf, 299. Wolf of Gubbio, 343. Wonder-Book, 219. Wonder-Working Providence of Sion's Saviour, 20, 24, 434. Woodberry, G. E., 318. Woodman, Spare That Tree, 115. Woodworth, Samuel, 115. Woolman, John, 52-53, 441, 466. Woolson, C. F., 293. Wordsworth, William, 79, 83, 84, 86, 145-147, 201, 244. World and the Individual, 321. Wreck of the Hesperus, 184. Xingu and Other Stories, 314. Yankee Fantasies, 342. Yankee in London, 93. Yellow Violet, 146. Yesterdays with Authors, 317. Young Goodman Brown, 220. Young Mrs. Winthrop, 339. Zadoc Pine, 287. Zenobia, 172. Zola, Emile, 298, 309. Zophiel, 172. 314-77-7 Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process. Neutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide Treatment Date: Sept. 2009 PreservationTechnologies A WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION 111 Thomson Park Drive Cranberry Township, PA 16066 nOA\ 770.9111