mind, to stimulate his readers to immediate action, and in consequence his productions have a business-like directness and cogency which do not belong to ordinary poetic effusions. Whittier's genius is essentially lyrical. It would be out of his power to write in a strain so purely imaginative as that of Keats "To a Grecian Urn," or other similar productions. Besides, mere devotion to the poetical art, mere exercise of the imagination for its own sake, seems inappropriate to him who considers, as he says, "Life all too earnest, and its time too short, For dreamy ease and Fancy's graceful sport." One short, vigorous blast suffices him. He himself has frequently shown that he is aware of this characteristic, as, for instance, in the modest Dedication of his larger volume: "The rigor of a frozen clime, The harshness of an untaught ear, The jarring words of one whose rhyme Beat often Labor's hurried time, Or Duty's rugged march through storm and strife, are here. "Of mystic beauty, dreamy grace, No rounded art the lack supplies; Unskilled the subtle lines to trace, Or softer shades of Nature's face, I view her common forms with unanointed eyes. "Yet here at least an earnest sense Of human right and weal is shown; A hate of tyranny intense, And hearty in its vehemence, As if my brother's pain and sorrow were my own.” Like every other true lyric poet, Whittier does not lack his multitude of friendly critics, who advise him to concentrate his efforts upon some great work, instead of dissipating his energy upon what they consider mere ephemerals,- to devote himself to some gigantic undertaking, which shall loom up like the Pyramids to tell posterity his fame. But in our opinion the author has unwittingly best consulted his genius and reputation in the course which he has adopted. His shortest productions are his happiest. There is no doubt that the writing of long poems is sanctioned by many eminent examples; but they are the least read of an author's works, and are known to most people only by certain favorite extracts. Readers in general look upon a great poem in the same light in which Leigh Hunt regarded a great mountain, as a great impostor. The majority of the lovers of Homer and Dante and Virgil, in any given community, except schoolboys qui amant misere, might find accommodations in an omnibus of reasonable size. They are mistaken who measure the greatness of a poem by its length; for length is very little to be considered in estimating durability. Provided that a poem be vital in every part with true inspiration, and exhibit a perfect finish throughout, it matters very little for the permanency of its fame how many pages it covers. The compactness which oftentimes results from Whittier's intensity is well illustrated in the ode entitled "Our State," indicating the sources of the pride and prosperity of Massachusetts: "Nor heeds the sceptic's puny hands, While near her school the church-spire stands; While near her church-spire stands the school." The "Reformer" is an instance to the same purpose: "All grim and soiled and brown with tan, I saw a strong one in his wrath, "Gray-bearded Use, who, deaf and blind, "Young Romance raised his dreamy eyes, "I looked: aside the dust-cloud rolled, The Waster seemed the Builder too; I saw the New." These lines," To Pius IX.," were written immediately after the bombardment of Rome by the allied armies of the Pon "Yet, scandal of the world! from thee One needful truth mankind shall learn, And God are false in turn. "Not vainly Roman hearts have bled The natural vehemence of Whittier's poetry has at times run into declamatory excess. This failing is discoverable principally in his earlier verses upon political and reformatory subjects, written while his judgment was still immature, and unduly influenced by his passions. Thus, upon reading the sentence of death passed on John L. Brown for assisting a female slave to escape, (which sentence was afterwards commuted,) a series of stanzas were written, the first one of which makes the following insinuations against the clergy, addressing them in this style : "Ho! thou who seekest late and long A license from the Holy Book The poem entitled "Clerical Oppressors" was called forth by a meeting of the citizens of Charleston, which the clergy attended in a body, and has some good round invective, equally unfair, but rather more telling than that quoted above: "Pilate and Herod, friends! Chief priests and rulers, as of old, combine! Just God and holy! is that church, which lends The first stanza of "The Pine-Tree" contains an inspiring appeal, and a graphic picture of the old Roundheads in council: : "Lift again the stately emblem on the Bay State's rusted shield, Give to Northern winds the Pine-Tree on our banner's tattered field! Sons of men who sat in council with their Bibles round the board, Answering England's royal missive with a firm 'THUS SAITH THE LORD,' Rise again for home and freedom!-set the battle in array!- A wider experience, and the more charitable judgment which generally accompanies increasing years, have had their effect in modifying the tone of his recent verse. Without losing any of its fire, it shows in a more chastened style and temperate spirit marks of a greater culture and a more Christian forbearance. The exquisite sonnet, " Forgiveness," is an index of this change of feeling: "My heart was heavy, for its trust had been Abused, its kindness answered with foul wrong; One summer Sabbath-day, I strolled among Our common sorrow, like a mighty wave, Swept all my pride away, and, trembling, I forgave." A poem bearing the name of " Ichabod," provoked by the supposed recreancy of a great statesman, under circumstances which would have once called forth all the denunciation of which the author was capable, is an impressive example of the same kind. We forbear to quote, in further exemplification of our remarks, the impressive "Lines suggested by a Visit to Washington," and "What the Voice said," in order to make room for two specimens which will bring into striking contrast his earlier and his later views. The first is from "Stanzas for the Times" of 1836, when an anti-Abolition meeting was held in Faneuil Hall. "Shall tongues be mute, when deeds are wrought Which well might shame extremest hell? Shall Pity's bosom cease to swell? Shall Honor bleed?-shall Truth succumb? The second is from "Stanzas for the Times" of 1850, the date of the passage of the Fugitive Slave Law. "Not mine sedition's trumpet-blast And threatening word; I read the lesson of the Past, That firm endurance wins at last More than the sword." The Quakerism in which Whittier was reared, and which he has always professed, stands, as we have already said, in strange conflict with the belligerent tone of many of his writings. We should hardly have expected so rude and martial a strain from the quiet, drab-coated professor of the mild tenets of his sect. Perhaps his tone is more in accordance with the spirit of the early founders of the denomination, than the comparatively uninteresting dulness of the modern type. Of late years, the Quakers have lost their desire for propagandism, and have become more accommodating and worldly-wise. But in early times, no sect had so zealous and wide-awake champions as the Society of Friends. George Fox, James Nayler, and even William Penn, show that their Quakerism had not wholly subdued their combative tendencies. The admirers of Whittier need not regret that he is not formed upon the more modern and respectable pattern. We are naturally led, from the consideration of our author's Quakerism, to that strong religious fervor which is manifested in every part of his writings. So deeply rooted is it, and apparently so blended with his imaginative powers, that, in some of his productions, one can hardly tell which predominates. His religious views embrace a simple faith in the Quaker doc |