who believe that Longfellow had no thought on art or life except a shallow optimism cannot do better than study the relevant parts of "Christus" and "Michael Angelo." There is pathos in the picture of Howells's "White Mr. Longfellow" toiling in his old age over "Michael Angelo," which concludes:

I. Texts.

I am so old that Death

Oft plucks me by the cloak to come with him;
And some day, like this lamp, shall I fall down,
And my last spark of life will be extinguished.
Ah me! ah me! what darkness of despair

So near to death, and yet so far from God.

Complete Works, Riverside Edition, II vols.; Standard Library Edition, with the life, 14 vols.; Cambridge Edition of the poems, vol. II. Biography.

Life, Samuel Longfellow, 3 vols.; Life, T. W. Higginson (American Men of Letters); Life, G. R. Carpenter (Beacon Biographies). See also My Literary Friends and Acquaintances, W. D. Howells. III. Criticism.

Interpretations of Literature, Lafcadio Hearn; Views and Reviews, W. E. Henley; My Literary Passions, W. D. Howells; Park Street Papers, Bliss Perry; successive criticisms by E. A. Poe, in Works, Virginia Edition, Vol. X, pp. 39, 40; 71-80; Vol. XI, pp. 64-85; Vol. XII, pp. 41-106; Vol. XIII, pp. 54-73; American Literature, C. F. Richardson, Vol. II, ch. iii; Longfellow and Other Essays, W. P. Trent; Specimen Days-The Death of Longfellow-Walt Whitman.

In the roll of American poetry Longfellow's work undoubtedly bulks the largest. Nevertheless, critics nowadays, comparing him with Poe, or Emerson, or Whitman, decry his didacticism, the sentimentality and prettiness of his verse, forgetting that poets as original as Poe, as independent as Whitman, or with the intellectual drive of Emerson were as exceptional in their time as they would be now. Whether or not such criticism is just, we shall not understand Longfellow's position in American letters until we reconstruct the literary taste of his time and discover how good is even his mediocre work, compared with the popular authors of his day. An excellent approach is the list of books in Mary Potter's library, cited by Higginson, which typically represents what cultured women were reading in New England in 1831.

There were first Maria Edgeworth's "Harry and Lucy"; then "Sabbath Recreations," by Miss Emily Taylor; then the "Wreath," a gift-book containing "a selection of elegant poems from the best authors," including Beattie's "Minstrel," Blair's "Grave," Gray's "Elegy," Goldsmith's "Traveller," selections from Campbell, Moore, and Burns, and a few American pieces, among them Bryant's "Death of the Flowers." As the biographer dryly remarks, "the sombre muse undoubtedly predominated." There were also Miss Bowdler's "Poems and Essays" (a reprint of the eighteenth edition!), and Mrs. Barbauld's "Legacy for Young Ladies," "discussing

beauty, fashion, botany, the uses of history, and especially including a somewhat elaborate essay on female studies"; Worcester's "Elements of History," and "The Literary Gem," another anthology. Bryant and Dana were the popular poets (Longfellow himself asknowledged Bryant as his master), and "parents regarded all more flowing measures as having a slight flavor of the French Revolution."

Later, in the forties, the graveyard school, imported or native, waned before a period of literary "elegance," washed-out Byronism, of the "literati," and of "female writers" who invariably "adorned the literature of their country." Of seventy and more American writers sufficiently popular to be discussed by Poe in the "Literati," less than ten are now remembered. Writing in 1845, in reply to British criticism, George P. Putnam found among those who had contributed "much to elegant literature" that would "not soon be lost in the waters of Lethe" such mediocrities as Miss Gould, Miss Brooks, Mrs. Ellet, "Lucretia," Margaret Davidson, Mrs. Sigourney, and Miss Sedgwick. Following "Lallah Rookh" and Byron's eastern tales, the tinsel brilliance of Willis's paraphrases of the Scriptures became immensely popular; Orientalism became the fashion, even in the "Dial," Maria Brooks (Southey's Maria del Occidente, "the most impassioned and imaginative of all poetesses") published “Zophiel, or the Bride of Seven," and as late as 1854 Bayard Taylor was bringing out the "Poems of the Orient." Whoever is inclined to deal harshly with Longfellow should be compelled to read through a volume of "Godey's Lady's Book," or "Graham's Magazine," the latter "embracing every department of literature, embellished with engravings, fashion and music, arranged for the pianoforte, harp and guitar." "The pages of the early magazines," says McMaster, "abound . . in sentimental stories, maudlin poetry, puzzles, and advice as to the proper way to cook a dinner or make a dress." The adjective applied to the poetry is not too strong.1

Nor must we forget, in criticising Longfellow's didacticism, that, as Carpenter says, "At no time in the history of the country was there a more genuine and widespread interest in matters of the spirit, and nowhere was this interest stronger than in New England. The old Calvinism was crumbling away. . . . People felt, rather than knew, that the old religious systems were essentially false, that man was not powerless in the hands of a foreordaining fate, that life was not merely to be endured, that nature was not a mere ornament of man's tomb, and the world but the scene of his disgrace. They were thankful to the theologians and philosophers who could help them understand why they felt thus, but most grateful to a poet who could cast their new feelings into song.. Longfellow must be read not only with Miss Edgeworth's moral tales but also with Channing and Theodore Parker.

Such was the period of Longfellow's early popularity. To an age steeped in didacticism he offered "The Psalm of Life"-didactic, it is true, but in ringing verses the like of which had not appeared. For an age groping for faith in place of doctrine, he wrote "The Reaper and the

For an excellent discussion of the east in the forties read John Bach McMaster, "History of the People of the United States," vol. vii, chap. lxxiii, from which some of this material is drawn.

Flowers" and "Resignation." More than that, he redirected the romantic temper of his time. Taking up the work of Bryant and Ticknor he supplanted the crudities of impossible eastern tales with his own discoveries, and while Margaret Fuller was vainly praising Goethe in the "Dial," Longfellow, more practically, was translating German ballads for a delighted public. In his original work, in "Hyperion" in prose, in volumes like "The Belfry of Bruges," in short narrative poems such as "Gaspar Becerra," in his tales, and finally in "The Golden Legend," he opened new windows on Europe, offering, so to speak, personally conducted tours through the cathedrals, the art galleries, the history and romance of the Old World, and throwing over them a glamour and a beauty peculiarly his own. Only the testimony of his contemporaries can make us realize Longfellow's importance in this labor.

More important for us is the fact that the poet was the explorer of a new field. By him poetry that is essentially American is given its largest impulse and the best of our narrative poetry is written. "Evangeline," "The Song of Hiawatha," and "The Courtship of Miles Standish" are native to the soil; they are American pioneers in theme, in metres, and in the fact that they are long narrative pieces. Even adverse critics admit that, given a story, nobody in our poetic hierarchy can tell it better than Longfellow. He is the only American who stands with Chaucer and Morris in that difficult field. Nor must we forget that he is our first poet of the sea, and the first, not even excepting Poe, to exhibit a mastery over many difficult and varied metres.

It is perhaps unfortunate for Longfellow's reputation that his great popular following has been gained by what is artistically his mediocre work. Those who read him as children-and who does not ?—seldom discover that the author of "The Village Blacksmith" was also the author of the superb sonnets on the "Divine Comedy," the sonorous strength of "The Saga of King Olaf," and the haunting ballad of "Count Arnaldos," which Henley so enthusiastically praised.

Yet we must admit that to our taste there is sometimes a monotony about his verse, as of sweetness too long enjoyed. Modern readers find his didacticism weariful, not because it teaches a lesson, but because much of it is unnecessary explanation. His continual search for metaphors often results in mere prettiness and now and then in positive bad taste. He is, moreover, unable to penetrate the deeper passions that make the puzzles of life-only another way of saying that Longfellow is not Browning. Yet we must be careful not to be afraid of a poet because he is popular: there is a vast difference between the ability to please the vulgar and "that exquisite gift possessed by a few men of essential distinctionlike Gray, like Goethe, like Longfellow-of giving perfect expression to certain feelings which are 'in widest commonalty spread."" Bliss Perry, from whom this is taken, has said, perhaps, the wisest words ever spoken of this poet:

"No doubt the most masterful poets have certain qualities which we do not find in Longfellow. But this is no reason for failing to recognize the qualities which he did command in well-nigh flawless perfection. There are candid readers, unquestionably, who feel they have outgrown him.

But, for one, I can never hear such a confession without a sort of pain. It is glory enough for Longfellow that he is read by the same persons who still read Robert Burns, and the plays of Shakespeare, and the English Bible."

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES (1809-1894)

J.

Holmes was born in Cambridge in 1809, coming from distinguished ancestry, which was interwoven with that of the Bradstreet, Phillips. Hancock, Quincy and Wendell families. His father, Abiel Holmes, was a historian and a Congregational clergyman. Holmes was prepared for college at Phillips Academy, Andover, and was a graduate of Harvard in the class of 1829. As literature, to which he was inclined, did not offer him a livelihood, and law proved unattractive, he undertook the study of medicine, gaining most of his preparation abroad from 1833 to 1835. A year of teaching at Dartmouth, and practice in Boston, during which he did some important research work, were followed by his appointment in 1847 to a professorship of anatomy and physiology at Harvard, a post which he held actively until 1882 and as Professor Emeritus until his death in 1894.

He began early to write verse. His first volume of poems appeared in 1833, and the second in 1836, the year in which he took his professional degree. The rivalry between literature and medicine was again recorded by the publication of the third volume in 1846 just before his appointment at Harvard. From the establishment of The Atlantic Monthly in 1857 and the launching therein of the "Breakfast Table Series," his reputation as a scientist was overshadowed by his name as poet, essayist and novelist. The complete edition of his works includes, besides the three volumes of poetry, the four above-mentioned, "Pages from an Old Volume of Life" and "My Hundred Days in Europe," his three novels, "Elsie Venner," "A Mortal Antipathy," and "The Guardian Angel," and his lives of Motley and Emerson. Editions of his poems appeared during his lifetime in 1833, 1836, 1846, 1861, 1865, 1874, 1875, 1880, 1888, most of his verses after 1857 appearing first in The Atlantic.

I. Texts.

The best editions of his poetry are in the volumes included in the Riverside, Autocrat, or Standard Library Editions, or the one-volume Cambridge Edition.

II. Biography.

The standard biography is The Life and Letters of Oliver Wendell Holmes, by John T. Morse, Jr., 2 vols. Other familiar studies are included in The Autocrat and His Fellow Boarders, by S. M. Crothers; Authors and Friends, by Mrs. Annie Fields; Old Cambridge, by T. W. Higginson; My Literary Friends and Acquaintances, by W. D. Howells; My Own Story, by J. T. Trowbridge.

III. Criticism.

The best critical discussions include the appropriate passages or chapters in the following: The Poetry and Poets of America, by Churton Collins; Certain Accepted Heroes, and Other Essays, by H. C. Lodge; The Rhythm of Life, and Other Essays, by Alice Meynell; Poets of America, by E. C. Stedman; Studies of a Biographer, by Leslie Stephen; Prose Works of John G. Whittier, Vols. II and III.

Oliver Wendell Holmes was preeminently loyal to his friends and to his neighborhood. In the best sense of the word he was extremely provincial. He was the proud offspring of distinguished New England ancestry. He believed in the value of the intellectual aristocracy to which he belonged.1 He consciously enjoyed his upbringing with Wendell Phillips and John Lothrop Motley, and his older-brother relationship to the Dana boys and Thomas Higginson and James Lowell. As a student and teacher and alumnus of Harvard College, he delighted to celebrate her traditions and her already venerable age. When the reform wave between 1835 and 1850 swept many of his friends off their feet, he kept his quite firmly on the wholesome and stable New England ground. In 1857 he was more visibly interested in the establishment of a new literary monthly than in the overthrow of slavery. His "Autocrat" and his "Poet at the Breakfast Table," in 1857 and 1859, were pictures of a serene and complacent little city— not the complete Boston of those years, but those aspects or moods of Boston which proved attractive to the man of intellect rather than to the man of feeling. As a leading member of the Saturday Club, he was the central figure in a group of distinguished gentlemen who represented breeding and culture. They were gentlemen who shared in the great events of their day with fine courage and heroism, but they came together, as their reminiscences unconsciously show, not so much to enter into earnest discussion of the problems of their day or of eternity as to indulge in sparkling colloquy to which Holmes was the chief contributor and Lowell an able second. Emerson did not altogether enjoy the meetings because, in spite of himself, he was so often reduced to the loud laughter which in his opinion, as in Goldsmith's, was no true index of the richly furnished mind.

In this intellectual world it should be understood that Holmes was distinctly a liberal. He did not subscribe to the old theology of Anne Bradstreet and of Jonathan Edwards and of his own father. From youth up "Wendell" inclined naturally to the Unitarian liberalism of the new Harvard rather than to the orthodox straitness of Andover and Yale. Again, in his choice of a profession, he was quite independent. By the natural bent of his mind and by social tradition he was delegated to one of the learned professions; but he rejected theology and law for medicine, which, when he entered it, was by no means so eligible a pursuit for a young gentleman of parts as preaching or teaching or practising at the bar.

Furthermore, it should be understood that though Holmes was not an ardent reformer he was by no means a cold incarnation of intellect. Nothing could be farther from the truth than this. Although he did not 1 See "Elsie Venner," chap. I. "The Brahmin Caste."