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PART VI I.

AMERICAN LITERATURE.

CHAPTER I.

AMERICAN POETS.

SECTION I.

POETS OF OUR REVOLUTIONARY FERIOD.

[It is suggested to teachers, in the use of the Seventh as well as the Sixth Part, to examine their pupils upon the characteristics of each author, and to require them to read, before their class, the specimens of each poet with a view to literary criticism.]

MR. GRISWOLD, in his Collection of American Poetry, remarks that before the Revolution, before the time when the spirit of freedom began to influence the national character, very little verse worthy of preservation was produced in America, and that the POETRY OF THE COLONIES was without originality, energy, feeling, or correctness of diction.

(1.) Of the Revolutionary times PHILIP FRENEAU was the most distinguished poet-the room-mate, while in Princeton College, of James Madison.

(2.) JOHN TRUMBULL, LL.D., born in Connecticut, 1750, died in 1831, having distinguished himself as the author of M Fingal, a burlesque poem, directed against the enemies of American liberty. It is written in Hudibrastic strain, and is said to be the best imitation of the great satire of Butler that was ever written. He was author of another poem written in the same style, entitled the "Progress of Dullness," which was eagerly read during the Revolution. From his description of the fop of those days we extract the following lines: "Then, lest religion he should need,

Of pious Hume he'll learn his creed;
By strongest demonstration shown,
Evince that nothing can be known;
Take arguments convey'd by doubt,
On Voltaire's trust, or go without;
'Gainst Scripture rail in modern lore,
As thousand fools have rail'd before;

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Calls piety the parson's trade;

Cries out, 'tis shame, past all abiding,
The world should still be so priest-ridden;
Applauds free thought that scorns control,
And generous nobleness of soul,

That acts its pleasure, good or evil,
And fears nor Deity nor devil.”

(3.) TIMOTHY DWIGHT, LL.D., D.D., born 1752, died 1817, has been pronounced the father of American poetry, of the higher order, though his poetry is inferior to the productions of the best English writers, and also of the best American poets that have follow ed him. The "Conquest of Canaan," and "Greenfield Hill," are his principal productions, exhibiting splendor, gravity, and an exuberant fancy.

(4.) Dr. LEMUEL HOPKINS, Colonel HUMPHREYS, and some others, acquired celebrity by satirical pieces composed during the war. JOEL BARLOW, also, is known, but not very favorably, as author of the "Columbiad." He was more happy in his preparation of the 66 Hasty Pudding," and some other humorous pieces. It may gratify some to understand the origin of the name; he thus gives it :

"Thee the soft nations round the warm Levant
Polanta call; the French, of course, Polante.
E'en in thy native regions how I blush

To hear the Pennsylvanians call thee Mush!
On Hudson's banks, while men of Belgic spawn
Insult and eat thee by the name Suppawn.
All spurious appellations, void of truth;
I've better known thee from my earliest youth;
Thy name is Hasty Pudding! thus our sires
Were wont to greet thee fuming from their fires.
And while they argued in thy just defense
With logic clear, they thus explain'd the sense.
In haste the boiling caldron, o'er the blaze,
Receives and cooks the ready-powder'd maize
In haste 'tis served, and then, in equal haste,
With cooling milk we make the sweet repast.
No carving to be done, no knife to grate
The tender ear and wound the stony plate:
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But the smooth spoon just fitted to the lip,
And taught with art the yielding mass to dip,
By frequent journeys to the bowl well stored,
Performs the hasty honors of the board.
Such is thy name, significant and clear,
A name, a sound, to every Yankee dear."

(5.) A few years later appeared WILLIAM CLIFFton, of Pennsylvania; ROBERT TREAT PAINE, of Massachusetts; and THOMAS G. FESSENDEN, of New-Hampshire. Their writings form what is called the transitive state of American poetry. Hitherto our poets had imita. ted too closely Dryden and Pope, but now began to pursue a more original and independent course. Their writings consist generally of short pieces, for the simple reason that poetry was not their business, but their recreation, their time being chiefly devoted to other pursuits. The period is approaching, however, wher poems of a more elaborate and finished character may be expected.

SECTION II.

(1.) JAMES K. PAULDING, better known as a novelist than a poet, has, however, written some good pieces. Among his prose works the most popular have been Salmagundi, which was written by him in connection with Washington Irving; John Bull and Brother Jonathan; The Dutchman's Fireside, and Westward Ho !

(2.) JOHN PIERPONT, of Boston, Massachusetts; a charming writer. He has composed in almost every metre, and many of his hymns, odes, and other brief poems, are remarkable for melody and spirit. His ear lier poems have generally been composed with more care than the later. Many of them relate to moral and religious enterprises of the present day, of which he has shown himself a most eloquent and powerful advocate. It would be gratifying to multiply extracts from this generous poet; but we must restrict our selves to a few. The first is from his " Airs of Palestine," the result of his observations while traveling abroad in 1835 and 1836:

"Greece and her charms I leave for Palestine.

There purer streams through happier valleys flow,
And sweeter flowers on holier mountains blow

I love to breathe where Gilead sheds her balm;
I love to walk on Jordan's bank of palm;

I love to wet my foot in Hermon's dews;
I love the promptings of Isaiah's muse!
In Carmel's holy grots I'll court repose,

And deck my mossy couch with Sharon's deathless rose."

NAPOLEON AT REST.

"His falchion flash'd along the Nile,

His hosts he led through Alpine snows;
O'er Moscows tower's that blazed the while,
His eagle-flag unroll'd-and froze!

Here sleeps he now, alone! not one
Of all the kings whom crowns he gave
Bends o'er his dust; nor wife nor son
Has ever seen or sought his grave.

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Alone he sleeps; the mountain cloud

That night hangs round him, and the breath Of morning scatters, is the shroud

That wraps the conqueror's clay in death.

Pause here! The far-off world at last

Breathes free; the hand that shook its thrones, And to the earth its mitres cast,

Lies powerless now beneath these stones.

Hark! Comes there from the Pyramids.
And from Siberia's wastes of snow,
And Europe's hills, a voice that bids
The world be awed to mourn him? No;

The only, the perpetual dirge

That's heard there, is the sea-bird's cryThe mournful murmur of the surge,

The cloud's deep voice, the wind's low sigh."

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The study of such an author by the young must beget noble and virtuous sentiments, and tend to purify the fountains of American literature.

SECTION III.

(1.) RICHARD H. DANA, of Massachusetts, has written po ems that are justly pronounced to be characterized by high religious purpose, simple sentiment, profound philosophy, pure and vigorous diction. The Bucaneer is his principal poem. The wretchedness of a depraved heart, the growth and operation of those harassing emotions which prey sometimes in the bosom of the guilty, are portrayed in vivid colors and with strong effect. The "Changes of Home" is of an opposite character. It is a poem of great beauty. Says an admirable critic, G. B. Cheever, "We are disposed to rank Mr. Dana at the head of all the American poets, not excepting Bryant; and we think this is the judgment which posterity will pass upon his writings. Not because he is superior to all others in the eloquence of his language, and in the polished beauty and finish of his compositions; in these respects, Bryant has, in this country, no equal; and Mr. Dana is often careless in the dress of his thoughts. It will be long ere any one breathes forth the soul of poetry in a finer strain than that to the Evening Wind,' and Coleridge himself could hardly have written a nobler Thanatopsis.' But Mr. Dana has attempted and proved successful in a higher and more difficult range of poetry. He exhibits loftier powers, and his compositions agitate the soul with a deeper emotion. His language, without being so beauti ful and finished, is yet more vivid, concise, and alive, and informed with meaning. His descriptions of natural objects may not pass before the mind with such sweet harmony, but they often present, in a single line, a whole picture before the imagination, with a vividness and power of compression which are astonishing. For instance:

'But when the light winds lie at rest,

And on the glassy, heaving sea

The black duck, with her glossy breast,
Sits swinging silently."

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