Poems of James Russell Lowell Part 59
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Robinson he Sez the world'll go right, ef he hollers out Gee!
[The attentive reader will doubtless have perceived in the foregoing poem an allusion to that pernicious sentiment,--"Our country, right or wrong." It is an abuse of language to call a certain portion of land, much more, certain personages, elevated for the time being to high station, our country. I would not sever nor loosen a single one of those ties by which we are united to the spot of our birth, nor minish by a t.i.ttle the respect due to the Magistrate. I love our own Bay State too well to do the one, and as for the other, I have myself for nigh forty years exercised, however unworthily, the function of Justice of the Peace, having been called thereto by the unsolicited kindness of that most excellent man and upright patriot, Caleb Strong. _Patriae fumus igne alieno luculentior_ is best qualified with this,--_Ubi libertas, ibi patria_. We are inhabitants of two worlds, and owe a double but not a divided, allegiance. In virtue of our clay, this little ball of earth exacts a certain loyalty of us, while, in our capacity as spirits, we are admitted citizens of an invisible and holier fatherland. There is a patriotism of the soul whose claim absolves us from our other and terrene fealty. Our true country is that ideal realm which we represent to ourselves under the names of religion, duty, and the like. Our terrestrial organizations are but far-off approaches to so fair a model, and all they are verily traitors who resist not any attempt to divert them from this their original intendment. When, therefore, one would have us to fling up our caps and shout with the mult.i.tude,--"_Our country, however bounded!_" he demands of us that we sacrifice the larger to the less, the higher to the lower, and that we yield to the imaginary claims of a few acres of soil our duty and privilege as liegemen of Truth. Our true country is bounded on the north and the south, on the east and the west, by Justice, and when she oversteps that invisible boundary-line by so much as a hair's-breadth, she ceases to be our mother, and chooses rather to be looked upon _quasi noverca_. That is a hard choice, when our earthly love of country calls upon us to tread one path and our duty points us to another. We must make as n.o.ble and becoming an election as did Penelope between Icarius and Ulysses. Veiling our faces, we must take silently the hand of Duty to follow her.
Shortly after the publication of the foregoing poem, there appeared some comments upon it in one of the public prints which seemed to call for animadversion. I accordingly addressed to Mr. Buckingham, of the Boston Courier, the following letter.
Jaalam , November 4, 1847.
_'To the Editor of the Courier:_
" Respected Sir ,--Calling at the post-office this morning, our worthy and efficient postmaster offered for my perusal a paragraph in the Boston Morning Post of the 3d instant, wherein certain effusions of the pastoral muse are attributed to the pen of Mr. James Russell Lowell. For aught I know or can affirm to the contrary, this Mr. Lowell may be a very deserving person and a youth of parts (though I have seen verses of his which I could never rightly understand); and if he be such, he, I am certain, as well as I, would be free from any proclivity to appropriate to himself whatever of credit (or discredit) may honestly belong to another. I am confident, that, in penning these few lines, I am only forestalling a disclaimer from that young gentleman, whose silence hitherto, when rumor pointed to himward, has excited in my bosom mingled emotions of sorrow and surprise. Well may my young paris.h.i.+oner, Mr. Biglow, exclaim with the poet,
'Sic vos non vobis,' &c.;
though, in saying this, I would not convey the impression that he is a proficient in the Latin tongue,--the tongue, I might add, of a Horace and a Tully.
"Mr. B. does not employ his pen, I can safely say, for any lucre of worldly gain, or to be exalted by the carnal plaudits of men _digito monstrari_, &c. He does not wait upon Providence for mercies, and in his heart mean _merces_.
But I should esteem myself as verily deficient in my duty (who am his friend and in some unworthy sort his spiritual _fidus Achates_, &c.), if I did not step forward to claim for him whatever measure of applause might be a.s.signed to him by the judicious.
"If this were a fitting occasion, I might venture here a brief dissertation touching the manner and kind of my young friend's poetry. But I dubitate whether this abstruser sort of speculation (though enlivened by some apposite instances from Aristophanes) would sufficiently interest your oppidan readers. As regards their satirical tone, and their plainness of speech, I will only say, that, in my pastoral experience, I have found that the Arch-Enemy loves nothing better than to be treated as a religious, moral, and intellectual being, and that there is no _apage Sathanas_!
so potent as ridicule. But it is a kind of weapon that must have a b.u.t.ton of good-nature on the point of it.
"The productions of Mr. B. have been stigmatized in some quarters as unpatriotic; but I can vouch that he loves his native soil with that hearty, though discriminating, attachment which springs from an intimate social intercourse of many years' standing. In the ploughing season, no one has a deeper share in the well-being of the country than he. If Dean Swift were right in saying that he who makes two blades of gra.s.s grow where one grew before confers a greater benefit on the state than he who taketh a city, Mr. B. might exhibit a fairer claim to the Presidency than General Scott himself. I think that some of those disinterested lovers of the hard-handed democracy, whose fingers have never touched anything rougher than the dollars of our common country, would hesitate to compare palms with him. It would do your heart good, respected Sir, to see that young man mow. He cuts a cleaner and wider swarth than any in this town.
"But it is time for me to be at my Post. It is very clear that my young friend's shot has struck the lintel, for the Post is shaken (Amos ix. 1). The editor of that paper is a strenuous advocate of the Mexican war, and a colonel, as I am given to understand. I presume, that, being necessarily absent in Mexico, he has left his journal in some less judicious hands. At any rate, the Post has been too swift on this occasion. It could hardly have cited a more incontrovertible line from any poem than that which it has selected for animadversion, namely,--
'We kind o' thought Christ went agin war an' pillage.'
"If the Post maintains the converse of this proposition, it can hardly be considered as a safe guide-post for the moral and religious portions of its party, however many other excellent qualities of a post it may be blessed with. There is a sign in London on which is painted,--'The Green Man.'
It would do very well as a portrait of any individual who would support so unscriptural a thesis. As regards the language of the line in question, I am bold to say that He who readeth the hearts of men will not account any dialect unseemly which conveys a sound and pious sentiment. I could wish that such sentiments were more common, however uncouthly expressed. Saint Ambrose affirms, that _veritas a quocunque_ (why not, then, _quomodocunque_?) _dicatur, a spiritu sancto est_. Digest also this of Baxter:--'The plainest words are the most profitable oratory in the weightiest matters.'
"When the paragraph in question was shown to Mr. Biglow, the only part of it which seemed to give him any dissatisfaction was that which cla.s.sed him with the Whig party. He says, that, if resolutions are a nouris.h.i.+ng kind of diet, that party must be in a very hearty and flouris.h.i.+ng condition; for that they have quietly eaten more good ones of their own baking than he could have conceived to be possible without repletion. He has been for some years past (I regret to say) an ardent opponent of those sound doctrines of protective policy which form so prominent a portion of the creed of that party. I confess, that, in some discussions which I have had with him on this point in my study, he has displayed a vein of obstinacy which I had not hitherto detected in his composition. He is also (_horresco referens_) infected in no small measure with the peculiar notions of a print called the Liberator, whose heresies I take every proper opportunity of combating, and of which, I thank G.o.d, I have never read a single line.
"I did not see Mr. B.'s verses until they appeared in print, and there is certainly one thing in them which I consider highly improper. I allude to the personal references to myself by name. To confer notoriety on an humble individual who is laboring quietly in his vocation, and who keeps his cloth as free as he can from the dust of the political arena (though _vae mihi si non evangelizavero_), is no doubt an indecorum. The sentiments which he attributes to me I will not deny to be mine. They were embodied, though in a different form, in a discourse preached upon the last day of public fasting, and were acceptable to my entire people (of whatever political views), except the postmaster, who dissented _ex officio_. I observe that you sometimes devote a portion of your paper to a religious summary. I should be well pleased to furnish a copy of my discourse for insertion in this department of your instructive journal. By omitting the advertis.e.m.e.nts, it might easily be got within the limits of a single number, and I venture to insure you the sale of some scores of copies in this town. I will cheerfully render myself responsible for ten. It might possibly be advantageous to issue it as an _extra_. But perhaps you will not esteem it an object, and I will not press it. My offer does not spring from any weak desire of seeing my name in print; for I can enjoy this satisfaction at any time by turning to the Triennial Catalogue of the University, where it also possesses that added emphasis of Italics with which those of my calling are distinguished.
"I would simply add, that I continue to fit ingenuous youth for college, and that I have two s.p.a.cious and airy sleeping apartments at this moment unoccupied. _Ingenuas didicisse_, &c. Terms, which vary according to the circ.u.mstances of the parents, may be known on application to me by letter, post paid. In all cases the lad will be expected to fetch his own towels. This rule, Mrs. W. desires me to add, has no exceptions.
"Respectfully, your obedient servant, " Homer Wilbur , A.M.
"P.S. Perhaps the last paragraph may look like an attempt to obtain the insertion of my circular gratuitously. If it should appear to you in that light, I desire that you would erase it, or charge for it at the usual rates, and deduct the amount from the proceeds in your hands from the sale of my discourse, when it shall be printed. My circular is much longer and more explicit, and will be forwarded without charge to any who may desire it. It has been very neatly executed on a letter sheet, by a very deserving printer, who attends upon my ministry, and is a creditable specimen of the typographic art. I have one hung over my mantelpiece in a neat frame, where it makes a beautiful and appropriate ornament, and balances the profile of Mrs. W., cut with her toes by the young lady born without arms. H. W."
I have in the foregoing letter mentioned General Scott in connection with the Presidency, because I have been given to understand that he has blown to pieces and otherwise caused to be destroyed more Mexicans than any other commander. His claim would therefore be deservedly considered the strongest. Until accurate returns of the Mexicans killed, wounded, and maimed be obtained, it will be difficult to settle these nice points of precedence. Should it prove that any other officer has been more meritorious and destructive than General S., and has thereby rendered himself more worthy of the confidence and support of the conservative portion of our community, I shall cheerfully insert his name, instead of that of General S., in a future edition. It may be thought, likewise, that General S. has invalidated his claims by too much attention to the decencies of apparel, and the habits belonging to a gentleman. These abstruser points of statesmans.h.i.+p are beyond my scope. I wonder not that successful military achievement should attract the admiration of the mult.i.tude. Rather do I rejoice with wonder to behold how rapidly this sentiment is losing its hold upon the popular mind. It is related of Thomas Warton, the second of that honored name who held the office of Poetry Professor at Oxford, that, when one wished to find him, being absconded, as was his wont, in some obscure alehouse, he was counselled to traverse the city with a drum and fife, the sound of which inspiring music would be sure to draw the Doctor from his retirement into the street. We are all more or less bitten with this martial insanity.
_Nescio qua dulcedine ... cunctos ducit._ I confess to some infection of that itch myself. When I see a Brigadier-General maintaining his insecure elevation in the saddle under the severe fire of the training-field, and when I remember that some military enthusiasts, through haste, inexperience, or an over-desire to lend reality to those fict.i.tious combats, will sometimes discharge their ramrods, I cannot but admire, while I deplore, the mistaken devotion of those heroic officers. _Semel insanivimus omnes._ I was myself, during the late war with Great Britain, chaplain of a regiment, which was fortunately never called to active military duty. I mention this circ.u.mstance with regret rather than pride. Had I been summoned to actual warfare, I trust that I might have been strengthened to bear myself after the manner of that reverend father in our New England Israel, Dr. Benjamin Colman, who, as we are told in Turell's life of him, when the vessel in which he had taken pa.s.sage for England was attacked by a French privateer, "fought like a philosopher and a Christian,... and prayed all the while he charged and fired." As this note is already long, I shall not here enter upon a discussion of the question, whether Christians may lawfully be soldiers. I think it sufficiently evident, that, during the first two centuries of the Christian era, at least, two professions were esteemed incompatible. Consult Jortin on this head.--H. W.]
No. IV.
REMARKS OF INCREASE D. O'PHACE, ESQUIRE, AT AN EXTRUMPERY CAUCUS IN STATE STREET, REPORTED BY MR. H. BIGLOW.
[The ingenious reader will at once understand that no such speech as the following was ever _totidem verbis_ p.r.o.nounced. But there are simpler and less guarded wits, for the satisfying of which such an explanation may be needful.
For there are certain invisible lines, which as Truth successively overpa.s.ses, she becomes Untruth to one and another of us, as a large river, flowing from one kingdom into another, sometimes takes a new name, albeit the waters undergo no change, how small soever. There is, moreover, a truth of fiction more veracious than the truth of fact, as that of the Poet, which represents to us things and events as they ought to be, rather than servilely copies them as they are imperfectly imaged in the crooked and smoky gla.s.s of our mundane affairs. It is this which makes the speech of Antonius, though originally spoken in no wider a forum than the brain of Shakspeare, more historically valuable than that other which Appian has reported, by as much as the understanding of the Englishman was more comprehensive than that of the Alexandrian. Mr. Biglow, in the present instance, has only made use of a license a.s.sumed by all the historians of antiquity, who put into the mouths of various characters such words as seem to them most fitting to the occasion and to the speaker. If it be objected that no such oration could ever have been delivered, I answer, that there are few a.s.semblages for speech-making which do not better deserve the t.i.tle of _Parliamentum Indoctorum_ than did the sixth Parliament of Henry the Fourth, and that men still continue to have as much faith in the Oracle of Fools as ever Pantagruel had. Howell, in his letters, recounts a merry tale of a certain amba.s.sador of Queen Elizabeth, who, having written two letters, one to her Majesty and the other to his wife, directed them at cross-purposes, so that the Queen was beducked and bedeared and requested to send a change of hose, and the wife was beprincessed and otherwise unwontedly besuperlatived, till the one feared for the wits of her amba.s.sador, and the other for those of her husband.
In like manner it may be presumed that our speaker has misdirected some of his thoughts, and given to the whole theatre what he would have wished to confide only to a select auditory at the back of the curtain. For it is seldom that we can get any frank utterance from men, who address, for the most part, a Buncombe either in this world or the next. As for their audiences, it may be truly said of our people, that they enjoy one political inst.i.tution in common with the ancient Athenians: I mean a certain profitless kind of _ostracism_, wherewith, nevertheless, they seem hitherto well enough content. For in Presidential elections, and other affairs of the sort, whereas I observe that the _oysters_ fall to the lot of comparatively few, the _sh.e.l.ls_ (such as the privileges of voting as they are told to do by the _ostrivori_ aforesaid, and of huzzaing at public meetings) are very liberally distributed among the people, as being their prescriptive and quite sufficient portion.
The occasion of the speech is supposed to be Mr. Palfrey's refusal to vote for the Whig candidate for the Speakers.h.i.+p.--H. W.]
No? Hez he? He haint, though? Wut? Voted agin him?
Ef the bird of our country could ketch him, she'd skin him; I seem's though I see her, with wrath in each quill, Like a chancery lawyer, afilin' her bill, An' grindin' her talents ez sharp ez all nater, To pounce like a writ on the back o' the traitor.
Forgive me, my friends, ef I seem to be het, But a crisis like this must with vigor be met; Wen an Arnold the star-spangled banner bestains, Holl Fourth o' Julys seem to bile in my veins.
Who ever'd ha' thought sech a pisonous rig Would be run by a chap thet wuz chose fer a Wig?
"We knowed wut his principles wuz 'fore we sent him?'
Wut wuz ther in them from this vote to pervent him?
A marciful Providunce fas.h.i.+oned us holler O' purpose thet we might our principles swaller; It can hold any quant.i.ty on 'em, the belly can, An' bring 'em up ready fer use like the pelican, Or more like the kangaroo, who (wich is stranger) Puts her family into her pouch wen there's danger.
Aint principle precious? then, who's goin' to use it Wen there's resk o' some chap's gittin' up to abuse it?
I can't tell the wy on 't, but nothin' is so sure Ez ther principle kind o' gits spiled by exposure;[T]
A man thet lets all sorts o' folks git a sight on 't Ough' to hev it all took right away, every mite on 't; Ef he can't keep it all to himself wen it's wise to, He aint one it's fit to trust nothin' so nice to.
[Footnote T: The speaker is of a different mind from Tully, who, in his recently discovered tractate _De Republica_, tells us,--_Nec vero habere virtutem satis est, quasi artem aliquam, nisi utare_, and from our Milton, who says,--"I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race where that immortal garland is to be run for, _not without dust and heat_."--_Areop._ He had taken the words out of the Roman's mouth, without knowing it, and might well exclaim with Austin (if a saint's name may stand sponsor for a curse.) _Pereant qui ante nos nostra dixerint!_--H. W.]
Besides, ther's a wonderful power in lat.i.tude To s.h.i.+ft a man's morril relations an' att.i.tude; Some flossifers think thet a fakkilty's granted The minnit it's proved to be thoroughly wanted, Thet a change o' demand makes a change o' condition, An' thet everythin' 's nothin' except by position, Ez, fer instance, thet rubber-trees fust begun bearin'
Wen p'litikle conshunces come into wearin',-- Thet the fears of a monkey, whose holt chanced to fail, Drawed the vertibry out to a prehensile tail; So, wen one's chose to Congriss, ez soon ez he's in it, A collar grows right round his neck in a minnit, An' sartin it is thet a man cannot be strict In bein' himself, wen he gits to the Deestrict, Fer a coat thet sets wal here in ole Ma.s.sachusetts, Wen it gits on to Was.h.i.+nton, somehow askew sets.
Resolves, do you say, o' the Springfield Convention?
Thet's percisely the pint I was goin' to mention; Resolves air a thing we most gen'ally keep ill, They're a cheap kind o' dust fer the eyes o' the people; A parcel o' delligits jest git together An' chat fer a spell o' the crops an' the weather, Then, comin' to order, they squabble awile An' let off the speeches they're ferful 'll spile; Then--Resolve,--Thet we wunt hev an inch o' slave territory; Thet President Polk's holl perceedins air very tory; Thet the war is a d.a.m.ned war, an' them thet enlist in it Should hev a cravat with a dreffle tight twist in it; Thet the war is a war fer the spreadin' o' slavery; Thet our army desarves our best thanks fer their bravery; Thet we're the original friends o' the nation, All the rest air a paltry an' base fabrication; Thet we highly respect Messrs. A, B, an' C, An' ez deeply despise Messrs. E, F, an' G.
In this way they go to the eend o' the chapter, An' then they bust out in a kind of a raptur About their own vartoo, an' folks's stone-blindness To the men thet 'ould actilly do 'em a kindness,-- The American eagle,--the Pilgrims thet landed,-- Till on ole Plymouth Rock they git finally stranded.
Wal, the people they listen and say, "Thet's the ticket; Ez fer Mexico, t'aint no great glory to lick it, But 't would be a darned shame to go pullin' o' triggers To extend the aree of abusin' the n.i.g.g.e.rs."
So they march in percessions, an' git up hooraws, An' tramp thru the mud fer the good o' the cause, An' think they're a kind o' fulfillin' the prophecies, Wen they're on'y jest changin' the holders of offices; Ware A sot afore, B is comf'tably seated, One humbug's victor'ous, an' t' other defeated, Each honnable doughface gits jest wut he axes, An' the people--their annool soft-sodder an' taxes.
Now, to keep unimpared all these glorious feeturs Thet characterize morril an' reasonin' creeturs, Thet give every paytriot all he can cram, Thet oust the untrustworthy Presidunt Flam, And stick honest Presidunt Sham in his place, To the manifest gain o' the holl human race, An' to some indervidgewals on 't in partickler, Who love Public Opinion an' know now to tickle her,-- I say thet a party with great aims like these Must stick jest ez close ez a hive full o' bees.
I'm willin' a man should go tollable strong Agin wrong in the abstract, fer thet kind o' wrong Is ollers unpop'lar an' never gits pitied, Because it's a crime no one never committed; But he mus'n't be hard on partickler sins, Coz then he'll be kickin' the people's own s.h.i.+ns; On'y look at the Demmercrats, see wut they've done Jest simply by stickin' together like fun; They've sucked us right into a mis'able war Thet no one on airth aint responsible for; They've run us a hundred cool millions in debt, (An' fer Demmercrat Horners ther's good plums left yet;) They talk agin tayriffs, but act fer a high one, An' so coax all parties to build up their Zion; To the people they're ollers ez slick ez mola.s.ses, An' b.u.t.ter their bread on both sides with The Ma.s.ses, Half o' whom they've persuaded, by way of a joke, Thet Was.h.i.+nton's mantelpiece fell upon Polk.
Now all o' these blessin's the Wigs might enjoy, Ef they'd gumption enough the right means to imploy;[U]
Fer the silver spoon born in Dermocracy's mouth Is a kind of a scringe thet they hev to the South; Their masters can cuss 'em an' kick 'em an' wale 'em, An' they notice it less 'an the a.s.s did to Balaam; In this way they screw into second-rate offices Wich the slaveholder thinks 'ould substract too much off his ease; The file-leaders, I mean, du, fer they, by their wiles, Unlike the old viper, grow fat on their files.
Wal, the Wigs hev been tryin' to grab all this prey frum 'em An' to hook this nice spoon o' good fortin' away frum 'em An' they might ha' succeeded, ez likely ez not, In lickin' the Demmercrats all round the lot, Ef it warn't thet, wile all faithful Wigs were their knees on, Some stuffy old codger would holler out,--"Treason!
You must keep a sharp eye on a dog thet hez bit you once, An' _I_ aint agoin' to cheat my const.i.toounts,"-- Wen every fool knows thet a man represents Not the fellers thet sent him, but them on the fence,-- Impartially ready to jump either side An' make the fust use of a turn o' the tide,-- The waiters on Providunce here in the city, Who compose wut they call a State Centerl Committy.
Const.i.toounts air hendy to help a man in, But arterwards don't weigh the heft of a pin.
Wy, the people can't all live on Uncle Sam's pus, So they've nothin' to du with 't fer better or wus; It's the folks thet air kind o' brought up to depend on 't Thet hev any consarn in 't, an' thet is the end on 't.
[Footnote U: That was a pithy saying of Persius, and fits our politicians without a wrinkle,-_Magister artis, ingeniique largitor venter._--H. W.]
Now here wuz New England ahevin' the honor Of a chance at the Speakers.h.i.+p showered upon her;-- Do you say,--"She don't want no more Speakers, but fewer; She's hed plenty o' them, wut she wants is a _doer_"?
Fer the matter o' thet it's notorous in town Thet her own representatives du her quite brown.
But thet's nothin' to du with it; wut right hed Palfrey To mix himself up with fanatical small fry?
Warn't we gittin' on prime with our hot an' cold blowin', Acondemnin' the war wilst we kep' it agoin'?
We'd a.s.sumed with gret skill a commandin' position, On this side or thet, no one couldn't tell wich one, So, wutever side wipped, we'd a chance at the plunder An' could sue fer infringin' our paytented thunder; We were ready to vote fer whoever wuz eligible, Ef on all pints at issoo he'd stay unintelligible.
Wal, sposin' we hed to gulp down our perfessions, We were ready to come out next mornin' with fresh ones; Besides, ef we did, 'twas our business alone, Fer couldn't we du wut we would with our own?
Poems of James Russell Lowell Part 59
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