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I.    HIOH    1 


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THE  SCOTT  LIBRARY 


THE  BIGLOW   PAPERS. 


The  Biglow  Papers,  by  James 
Russell  Lowell:  With  a 
Prefatory  Note  by  Ernest 
Rhys. 


THE  WALTER  SCOTT  PUBLISHING  CO.,  LTD. 
LONDON   AND   NEWCASTLE-ON-TYNE 


Annex 

A| 


CONTENTS. 


Notices  of  an  Independent  Press    . 

Note  to  Title- Page        .  .  .  .  . 

Introduction        ...... 

The  Biglow  Papers  {First  Series)— 

A  letter   from    MR.   EZEKIEL    BIGLOW,   INCLOSING 
A  POEM  OF  HIS  SON,   MR.   HOSEA   BIGLOW 

A  LETTER  FROM   MR.    HOSEA   BIGLOW,   COVERING  A 
LETTER  FROM   MR.   B.   SAWIN 

WHAT  MR.    ROBINSON   THINKS 

REMARKS  OF  INCREASE  D.   O'PHACE,  ESQ.      . 

THE  DEBATE  IN  THE  SENNIT  ... 

THE  PIOUS  EDITOR'S   CREED     . 

A    LETTER    FROM    A    CANDIDATE    FOR    THE    PRESI 
DENCY  ..... 

A  SECOND   LETTER   FROM   B.   SAWIN,   ESQ. 

A  THIRD   LETTER   FROM   B.   SAWIN,   ESQ. 


PAOB 
3 

17 
21 


43 

SI 
61 

71 
82 
89 

96 
105 
119 


vi  CONTENTS. 

The  Biglow  Papers  (^Second  Series)— 

PAGE 

BIRDOFREDUM  SAWIN,  ESQ.,  TO   MR.   HOSEA  BIGLOW  1 35 

MASON  AND  SLIDELL :  A   YANKEE   IDYLL        .  .  152 

BIRDOFREDUM  SAWIN,  ESQ.,  TO  MR.  HOSEA  BIGLOW  1 73 

A  MESSAGE  OF  JEFF.   DAVIS  IN  SECRET  SESSION      .  190 
SPEECH     OF     HONOURABLE     PRESERVED     DOE     IN 

SECRET  CAUCUS       .  .  .  .  .  20I 

SUNTHIN'   IN  THE  PASTORAL  LINE      .  .  .  213 

LATEST  VIEWS  OF  MR.  BIGLOW  .  .  .  224 

KETELOPOTOMACHIA  .  .  234 

MR.  HOSEA  BIGLOW'S  SPEECH   IN    MARCH    MEETING  252 


PREFATORY  NOTE. 


The  author  of  the  Biglow  Papers  was  a  liberal  influence 
for  too  long  among  us,  to  soon  lose  his  contemporary  effect; 
but  death  changes  many  things,  and  we  do  well,  perhaps,  to 
recount  his  achievements  while  we  still  feel  him  to  be,  by 
his  life  and  writings,  one  of  us.  Fifty  years  hence,  and  who 
shall  say  what  the  estimate  of  his  contributions  to  nine- 
teenth century  literature  will  be  ?  Possibly  the  new  criticism 
then,  with  the  easy  aid  of  the  twentieth  century,  will  calmly 
point  out  that  he  was  not  a  great  poet,  as  most  American 
and  some  English  critics  would  have  us  now  believe;  that 
he  was  not  an  essayist  of  the  first  rank,  the  rank  of  Mon- 
taigne and  Charles  Lamb,  as  the  Times  told  us  in  its 
obituary;  and  that,  even  as  a  humorist,  in  the  Biglow 
Papers^  he  was  more  American  than  immortal.  All  this  is 
conceivable;  but  we  are  at  any  rate  safe  in  maintaining 
that  his  total  effect,  as  far  as  we  of  to-day  are  concerned,  is 
remarkable.  He  was  fortunate  in  his  opportunities,  and 
adroit  and  manly  in  his  use  of  them,  as  the  Biglow 
Papers  alone  serve  to  show.  He  wrote  well  and  vigorously, 
spoke  eloquently,  and  worked  hard  in  the  cause  that  poets 
and  men  have  at  heart.  He  was,  with  his  own  weapons,  a 
good  soldier  in  the  War  of  Liberation  of  Humanity,  and  of 
the  Slaves.  By  reason,  indeed,  of  his  double  relationship  to 
this  country  and  to  America,  and  his  double  influence  as 


viii  PREFA  TOR  Y  NOTE. 

man  of  letters  and  man  of  affairs,  he  counted  to  us  with  an 
international  importance  beyond  other,  and  perhaps  greater, 
men  of  letters,  his  contemporaries;  and  we  feel  so  much 
the  poorer  because  he  is  gone. 

When  we  have  lost  a  great  contemporary,  we  recall  our 
meetings  with  him  with  a  new  interest.  The  unveiling,  by 
Mr.  Lowell,  of  the  memorial  bust  of  Coleridge  in  West- 
minster Abbey,  when  Robert  Browning  and  other  English 
poets  were  of  the  company,  and  when  Lord  Coleridge  paid 
a  characteristic  tribute  to  his  great  relative,  was  the  occa- 
sion of  my  first  seeing  the  former  American  minister.  Only 
a  few  days  before  I  had  returned  from  a  pilgrimage  to 
Nether  Stowey  and  the  Quantocks,  where  Coleridge  spent 
perhaps  the  happiest  days  of  his  youth — the  days  when 
his  first  great  poetical  ambitions  were  still  potential ;  and 
this  adventure  served  to  give  to  the  ceremony  at  West- 
minster an  added  impressiveness,  and  to  the  words  of  the 
eloquent  American  an  added  weight,  when  he  spoke  of  his 
greater  predecessor  and  the  long  line  of  English  poets 
whose  names  are  written  in  Poets'  Corner.  Already  then 
it  struck  those  of  his  hearers  who  knew  him  best,  that 
he  showed  signs  of  decaying  strength :  an  impression 
enhanced  by  the  shadow  of  some  late  bereavement  that  lay 
upon  him  at  the  time.  Very  different  was  the  effect  of 
meeting  him  a  year  or  two  later  in  his  native  New  England  ; 
at  Cambridge,  close  to  which  lies  the  old  homestead  of  the 
Lowells,  Elmwood,  where  he  was  born,  and  died;  or  at 
Boston,  hospitable,  admirable  Boston,  where  they  discuss 
Browning's  poetry  a  pleine  voix  in  the  street  cars,  and  street 
urchins  whistle  bits  from  Wagner  on  the  way  from  school. 
At  Boston  one  evening  I  heard  him  speak  again  after  a 
dinner  of  the  evergreen  Lotus  Club,  the  club  which  has 
associations  with  Hawthorne  and  Emerson,  Longfellow  and 


PREFA  TOR  Y  NOTE.  ix 

Dr.  Oliver  Wendell  Holmes,  and  which  has  a  delightful 
motto, 

"  I'd  rather  live  in  Bohemia, 
Than  in  any  other  land  ! " 

And  then,  among  those  Bohemians,  the  veteran  seemed 
as  young  as  any  of  the  younger  rhymesters  and  prose- 
writers  of  America  who  sat  round  him.  He  told  us 
that  evening,  with  much  characteristic  humour,  of  the 
fortunate  ill-fortune  that  happened  to  his  own  boyish  first 
book  of  poems.  It  had  been  published,  he  said,  for 
some  little  time,  and  the  whole  edition  still  lay,  so  little 
was  the  demand  for  it,  almost  untouched  on  the  pubHsher's 
shelves,  when  a  lucky  fire  broke  out  on  the  premises,  and 
burnt  up  every  volume.  As  the  stock  of  books  was  fully 
insured,  the  young  author  made  as  much  by  this  covetable 
disaster  as  if  every  copy  had  been  eagerly  bought  up. 
"Thus  encouraged,"  added  Mr.  Lowell,  "in  that  reckless 
career  of  poetry,  I  grew  hardened  in  iniquity,  and  wrote  on 
more  irrepressibly  than  ever  !  "  The  results  of  that  verse- 
writing  we  know,  and  can  review,  in  the  five  hundred 
closely-printed  pages  to  which  the  young  rhymester's  first 
book  grew  at  length :  a  volume  which,  including,  as 
it  does,  the  Biglow  Papers^  has  been  more  popular  in 
England  than  that  of  any  other  American  poet,  save 
Longfellow. 

Other  occasions  of  pleasant  memory,  more  informal, 
served  to  show  how  delightful  in  talk  Mr.  Lowell  could  be. 
London  did  not  fail  to  discover  this,  but  he  was  to  be  found 
at  his  best  in  some  of  the  hospitable,  old-fashioned 
homesteads  that  surround  his  favourite  Cambridge  oversea, 
whose  praises  he  has  recited  in  one  of  his  liveliest  essays, 
which    opens   his   characteristic    but   little-known   volume 

a-* 


X  PREFA  TOR  Y  NOTE. 

of  Fireside  Travels.  Such  a  house  was  his  own  Elmwood, 
one  of  the  typical  wooden  New  England  houses,  surrounded 
by  park-like  English  elms  and  ash  trees,  and  standing  close 
to  Mount  Auburn  Cemetery,  where  he  now  lies  buried. 
Such  a  house,  too,  is  Shady  Hill,  the  residence  of  Professor 
Charles  Eliot  Norton,  his  old  friend  and  collaborateur ; 
which  again  brings  recollections  of  one  winter's  after- 
noon spent  in  listening  to  various  stories  of  New  England 
character  recounted  by  the  creator  of  Hosea  Biglow. 
Some  one  had  complained  that  Americans  were  fond  of 
declaring  Englishmen  to  be  wanting  in  wit,  and  cited  the 
average  Cockney  to  the  contrary.  But  this  set  Mr.  Lowell 
going  inimitably  for  once  in  the  particular  vein  of  Biglow, 
as  he  expatiated  on  the  difference  between  Yankee  and 
Cockney  wit  On  his  lips,  the  suggested  mispronunciations, 
the  idioms,  the  drawl,  of  the  New  England  dialect  had  an 
unction  which  you  shall  hardly  find  as  effective  in  the 
written  humours  of  the  poet  of  Jaalam.  Indeed,  in  the 
Biglow  Papers  English  readers  are  apt  to  find  the  wit  of 
misrendering  the  language  a  little  tedious,  when  it  arrives 
at  such  cheap  eccentricities  as  "candid  8's  "  for  "candi- 
dates." But,  recited  in  a  voice  full  of  telling  inflections,  as 
good  for  purposes  of  humour  as  of  eloquence,  a  story  told  by 
Mr.  Lowell  never  failed  of  its  effect. 

Up  to  the  last,  it  is  said,  Mr.  Lowell  kept  that  vigour  of 
speech  and  mental  energy  which  made  it  hard  to  realise 
how  long  a  career  lay  behind  him  when  he  exchanged  New, 
for  Old  England,  for  the  last  time.  Born  in  1819,  he  died 
on  August  1 6th  of  this  year  of  189 1.  The  first  of  the  Biglow 
Papers  was  begun  in  the  forties,  almost  half  a  century  ago, 
when  Mr.  Lowell,  who  lived  to  be  over  seventy,  was  still  a 
young  man  under  thirty.  He  was  born,  I  have  said,  at 
Elmwood.    '•  His  father,  and  his  father's  father,"  says  Mr.  E. 


PREFA  TOR  Y  NOTE.  xi 

C.  Stedman/  "  were  clergymen,  well  read,  bearing  honoured 
names;  his  mother,  a  gifted  woman,  mistress  of  various 
languages,  and  loving  the  old  English  songs  and  ballads, — 
no  wonder  that  three  of  her  children  came  to  be  authors, 
and  this  one,  the  youngest,  a  famous  citizen  and  poet  It 
is  not  hard  to  fill  in  these  outlines  with  something  of  the 
circumstance  that  foreordains  the  training  of  genius." 
In  all  this  early  circumstance  Lowell  was  exceptionally 
favoured,  under  the  influence  of  local  and  family  traditions, 
the  home-culture,  the  method  of  his  father,  and  the  taste 
of  the  mother,  from  whom  he  inherited  his  bent  towards 
letters  and  song. 

In  the  essay  on  "  Cambridge  Fifty  Years  Ago,"  and  in  some 
of  his  other  essays,  recalling  the  still  remoter  past  of  New 
England,  one  may  glean  many  descriptive  touches  to  fill  up 
the  outline  of  Lowell's  early  history.  "  Passing  through 
some  Massachusetts  village,  perhaps  at  a  distance  from  any 
house,  it  may  be  in  the  midst  of  a  piece  of  woods  where  four 
roads  meet,  one  may  sometimes  even  yet  see  a  small  square 
one-storey  building,  whose  use  would  not  be  long  doubtful. 
It  is  summer,  and  the  flickering  shadows  of  forest-leaves 
dapple  the  roof  of  the  little  porch,  whose  door  stands  wide, 
and  shows,  hanging  on  either  hand,  rows  of  straw  hats  and 
bonnets,  that  look  as  if  they  had  done  good  service.  As 
you  pass  the  open  windows,  you  hear  whole  platoons  of 
high-pitched  voices  discharging  words  of  two  or  three 
syllables  with  wonderful  precision  and  unanimity. 

"If  you  had  the  good  fortune,"  he  continues,  "to  be  born 
and  bred  in  the  Bay  State,  your  mind  is  thronged  with  half- 
sad,  half-humorous  recollections.  Thea-3  abs  of  little  voices 
long  since  hushed  in  the  mould,  or  ringing  now  in  the  pulpit, 
at  the  bar,  or  in  the  Senate-chamber,  come  back  to  the  ear  of 
^  The  Poets  of  America. 


xii  PREFA  TOR  Y  NOTE. 

memory.  You  remember  the  high  stool  on  which  culprits 
used  to  be  elevated  with  the  tall  paper  fool's  cap  on  their 
heads,  blushing  to  the  ears ;  and  you  think  with  wonder 
how  you  have  seen  them  since  as  men  climbing  the  world's 
penance-stools  of  ambition  without  a  blush,  and  gladly 
giving  everything  for  life's  caps  and  bells.  And  you  have 
pleasanter  memories  of  going  after  pond-lilies,  of  angling  for 
horn-pouts — that  queer  bat  among  the  fishes, — of  nutting,  of 
walking  over  the  creaking  snow-crust  in  winter,  when  the 
warm  breath  of  every  household  was  curling  up  silently  in 
the  keen  blue  air." 

At  sixteen  he  went  to  Harvard,  and  his  college  life  there 
fills  up  another,  and  very  formative,  period  of  his  history. 
Those  who  have  visited  the  American  Cambridge,  and  felt 
its  architectural  and  other  difference  from  its  English  name- 
sake, will  read  a  great  deal  into  some  of  his  references  in 
verse  or  prose  to  this  part  of  his  life  there,  and  under- 
stand how  its  associations  haunted  him  afterwards. 

"There  in  red  brick,  which  softeniag  time  defies. 
Stand  stiff  and  square  the  Muses'  factories." 

"Yes,  dearer  far  thy  dust  than  all  that  e'er. 

Beneath  the  awarded  crown  of  victory, 
Gilded  the  blown  Olympic  charioteer  ; 

Though  lightly  prized  the  ribbofled  parchments  three, 
Yet,  collegissejuvat,  I  am  glad. 
That  here  what  colleging  was  mine  I  had — 

It  linked  another  tie,  dear  native  town,  with  thee  ! " 

"It  seems,"  says  Mr.  Stedman,  "that  the  light-hearted 
Cambridge  student  was  eager  for  all  books,  except  those 
of  the  curriculum,  and  troubled  himself  little  as  to 
mathematics  and  other  prosaic  branches.  This  was  quite 
in  accordance  with  precedent,  teste  Landor  or  Shelley;  yet  I 


PREFATORY  NOTE.  xiii 

doubt  not  that  he  was  more  than  once  sorry  for  it  in  atter 
years."  At  Harvard,  Lowell  wrote  the  class  poem,  which 
abounded,  as  has  been  pointed  out,  in  satire  of  the 
reformers  whom  the  poet  was  afterwards  to  join  in  the 
Biglow  Papers.  He  printed  this  poem ;  but  as  prize  and 
class  poems  hardly  count,  we  may  consider  his  first  book 
really  that  published  in  1841,  when  he  had  left  Harvard, 
and  was  an  incipient  lawyer  in  Boston  :  the  volume  whose 
curious  fate  has  been  told.  It  was  entitled  A  Year's  Life, 
and  contains  several  of  the  pieces  now  included  in  his 
complete  poems,  with  other  Juvenilia  not  reprinted,  making 
up  a  thin,  pretty  volume,  now,  for  the  reasons  given,  one 
of  the  scarcest  first  books  of  verse  published  during  the 
century.  This  led  him  on  to  new  schemes,  one  of  which 
bore  fruit  in  an  obscure  magazine.  The  Pioneer,  which 
he  edited  with  a  friend,  but  which  did  not  live  long. 
A  second  volume  of  poems  followed  in  1844;  ^"^ 
the  same  year  saw  him  married  to  the  "  Una "  of  his 
first  book.  "  A  Legend  of  Brittany,"  included  in  this 
volume,  gave  its  author  more  reputation  than  he  had 
hitherto  made  by  his  verse.  Edgar  Poe  praised  it  as  "  the 
noblest  poem  yet  written  by  an  American ! "  to  which  we 
may  rejoin  now  that  Poe  himself  had  already  written  far 
nobler. 

Already,  in  this  volume  of  1844,  the  young  poet  had 
begun  to  show  signs  in  his  work  of  the  pressure  of  actuality 
and  the  reform  movement,  which  presently  led  him  to  the 
point  where  he  found  his  happier  inspiration  in  the  Biglow 
Papers.  He  is  described  at  this  time  as  "a  young  idealist," 
whose  "  broad  collar  and  flowing  hair  set  off  a  handsome, 
eager  face,  with  the  look  of  Keats  and  the  resolve  of  a 
Brook-Farmer."  If  he  was  ever  inclined  to  pose  as  the 
typical  young  poet  of  a  sentimental  type,  however,  he  soon 


Jdv  PREFA  TOR  Y  NOTE. 

found  a  humoristic  deliverance.  It  was  in  1846  that  the 
first  of  the  Bi,(;low  Pat>ers  began  to  appear  in  a  local 
weekly  paper,  the  Boston  Courier^  which  you  may  still  buy 
for  five  cents  every  Friday  in  that  famous  city.  Begun  so 
unpretentiously,  under  cover  of  journalism,  rather  than  of 
literature  pure  and  simple,  they  made  an  almost  immediate 
effect.  The  historical  events  that  called  forth  the  first, 
and  much  the  best,  of  the  two  series  are  now  almost 
forgotten  in  England;  for  the  invasion  of  Mexico  in 
the  forties,  though  very  potential,  had  not  the  effect, 
naturally  enough,  of  the  great  Civil  War  of  North  and  South 
that  inspired  the  second  series  of  the  Papers  in  the  sixties. 
But  Mexico  was  only  the  accident  which  served  to  fire  a 
long-smouldering  mine  in  young  Lowell's  imagination ; 
and  it  is  New  England,  and  not  any  more  foreign  cause, 
that  was  the  essential  impulse  to  this  highly  original 
writing.  Mr.  Bret  Harte  told  us  recently  that,  in  these 
strange  chronicles  in  verse  and  prose  from  the  village  of 
Jaalam,  "their  author  had  for  the  first  time  discovered  the 
real  Yankee  —  that  wonderful  evolution  of  the  English 
Puritan  who  had  shaken  off  the  forms  and  superstitions, 
the  bigotry  and  intolerance,  of  religion,  but  never  the 
deep  consciousness  of  God,  .  .  .  not  only  an  all-wise  God, 
but  one  singularly  perspicacious  of  wily  humanity,  and 
one  that  you  had  to  get  up  early  to  take  in ! "  Else- 
where Mr.  Bret  Harte  refers  to  a  book  which  was  a 
forerunner  in  some  ways  of  the  Biglow  Papers:  Dr. 
Judd's  Margaret,  which  was  "  a  New  England  classic  when 
Hosea  Biglow  was  born,  ...  a  dialect  romance,  so  pro- 
vincial as  to  be  almost  unintelligible  to  even  the  average 
American  reader ;  but  while  painted  with  a  coarse  Flemish 
fidelity,  its  melodrama  was  conventional  and  imported." 
That   Lowell   had  been  much   impressed  by  the  book  is 


PRE  FA  TOR  Y  NO  TE.  xv 

evident.  In  his  essay,  "  A  Good  Word  for  Winter,"  he 
brings  the  book  and  its  author  fairly  into  context  with 
Homer,  with  delightful  New  Englander's  audacity: — 
"There  is  admirable  snow  scenery  in  Judd's  Margaret, 
but  some  one  has  confiscated  my  copy  of  that  admirable 
book,  and  perhaps  Homer's  picture  of  a  snow-storm  is  the 
best  yet  in  its  large  simplicity."  By  searching  the  files  of 
old  Massachusetts  country  papers  and  magazines,  you  may 
come  upon  other  hints  of  what  was  perfected  finally  out  of 
the  mouth  of  Hosea  Biglow.  A  New  Hampshire  bucolic 
rhymester,  Fessenden,  had,  we  are  told,  too,  given  Lowell 
the  immediate  suggestion  of  "The  Courtin',"  in  his  Country 
Lovers,  similar  to  that,  but  less  perfect  in  subject  and  method. 
Similarly,  the  queer  prose  notes,  and  prefaces,  and  appen- 
dices, by  no  means  the  least  successful  part  of  the  whole 
work,  are  clearly  inspired,  in  the  first  instance,  by  Carlyle 
and  his  Scoto-Teutonic  Teufelsdrockh.  The  Rev.  Homer 
Wilbur  is  indeed  a  Sartor  Resartus  of  a  type  not  con- 
templated by  Carlyle  in  his  humorous  masterpiece;  and 
yet  not  an  unworthy  reappearance  in  this  grotesque  New 
England  garb.  But  the  creator  of  the  Rev.  Homer 
Wilbur,  and  his  protege  at  Jaalam,  only  borrowed  so  far  as 
all  originators  may,  without  detriment  to  their  good  fame. 
Thus,  before  he  was  thirty,  we  find  Lowell  securely  placed 
among  his  own  countrymen,  although  he  had  to  wait  longer, 
until  the  second  series  of  the  Biglow  Papers  appeared  in  the 
time  of  the  Civil  War,  for  the  full  international  recognition 
afterwards  gained  by  him. 

The  last  of  the  first  series  appeared  in  1848;  in  the 
same  year  he  published  A  Fable  Jor  Critics,  which,  in  its 
entirely  different  vein  of  satire,  proved  quite  as  popular. 
In  his  serious  verse  Lowell  had  always  inclined  to  be 
imitali\e,  as  his  earlier  volumes  prove,  in  which  we  find 


xvi  PRE  FA  TOR  Y  NO  TE. 

traces  in  turn  of  Keats,  Shelley,  Tennyson,  Leigh  Hunt, 
and  Hood.  In  A  Fable  for  Critics  he  imitated  Pope — 
that  Pope  of  whom  he  said  afterwards:  "There  was  a 
time  when  I  could  not  read  Pope,  but  disliked  him  on 
principle."  After  one's  salad  days,  however,  one  revises 
many  old,  off-hand  prejudices,  and  before  he  was  thirty 
Lowell  had  studied  the  author  of  the  Dunciad  to  some  pur- 
pose. A  Fable  for  Critics  has  nothing  of  the  unpleasantness 
that  Lowell  complained  of  in  the  Dunciad,  and  something 
less  than  the  art  and  wit  that  he  fully  admired.  "This 
New  England  Pope,"  said  one  critic,  "is  a  very  immature 
Pope."  But  his  Fable  is  the  best*  thing  of  the  kind 
yet  produced  by  America,  and  will  long  be  turned  to  for 
its  witty  account  of  many  figures  on  what  has  been  as 
wittily  called  "the  Parnassus  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Griswold," 
of  immortal  ignominy.  As  an  example  of  the  Fable  at  its 
best,  take  these  references  to  Emerson,  which  form  one  of 
the  most  familiar  parts  of  the  satire — 

"  There  comes  Emerson  first,  whose  rich  words,  every  one. 
Are  like  gold  nails  in  temples  to  hang  trophies  on, 
Whose  prose  is  grand  verse,  while  his  verse,  the  Lord  knows, 
Is  some  of  it  pr No  !  'tis  not  even  prose. 

In  the  worst  of  his  poems  are  mines  of  rich  matter, 
But  thrown  in  a  heap  with  a  crush,  and  a  clatter ; 
Now  it  is  not  one  thing  nor  another  alone 
Makes  a  poem,  but  rather  the  general  tone, 
The  something  pervading,  uniting  the  whole, 
The  before  unconceived,  unconceivable  soul. 

But,  to  come  back  to  Emerson  (whom,  by  the  way, 
I  believe  we  left  waiting),  his  is,  we  may  say, 
A  Greek  head  on  right  Yankee  shoulders,  whose  range 
Has  Olympus  for  one  pole,  for  t'other  the  Exchange. 


PREFA  TOR  Y  NOTE.  xvii 

All  admire,  and  yet  scarcely  six  converts  he's  got, 

To  I  don't  (nor  they  either)  exactly  know  what ; 

For  though  he  builds  glorious  temples,  'tis  odd 

He  leaves  never  a  doorway  to  get  in  a  god, 

'Tis  refreshing  to  old-fashioned  people  like  me 

To  meet  such  a  primitive  Pagan  as  he,  ' 

In  whose  mind  all  creation  is  duly  respected, 

As  parts  of  himself— just  a  little  projected  ; 

And  who's  willing  to  worship  the  stars  and  the  sun, 

A  convert  to — nothing  but  Em;rson." 

It  has  been  the  main  purpose  of  this  introductory  note 
to  outline  those  periods  of  our  author's  life,  and  those 
conditions  of  life  and  literature  in  New  England,  which 
went  to  the  making  of  the  Biglow  Papers^  here  reprinted. 
Before  the  second  series  of  the  Papers  appeared  there 
had  been  many  new  chapters  in  Lowell's  history.  His 
professorship  at  Harvard,  his  co-editorship  of  the  Atlantic 
Monthly  with  Professor  C.  E.  Norton,  and  various 
European  adventures,  left  their  mark  on  the  later  Lowell 
of  My  Study  Windows ;  but  they  did  not  affect  the  later 
Biglow  Papers  in  their  revived,  readjusted  application  to 
the  anti-slavery  movement  and  the  fatal  war  that  followed. 
With  this  second  series  of  the  Papers,  which  appeared  first 
in  the  Atlantic  Monthly  from  1862  onwards,  we  may  end 
our  tale  for  the  time  being. 

On  a  last  reconsideration,  we  may  well  find  it  difficult  to 
pronounce  critically  upon  this  curious  book  of  the  Biglow 
Papers,  so  unlike  some  books  of  admitted  perfection  that 
New  England  has  given  us  through  such  writers  as 
Hawthorne  and  Emerson.  The  humour,  the  originality, 
the  idiomatic  raciness  of  the  book,  we  must  all  admit, 
without  feeling  quite  convinced,  perhaps,  with  their  author's 
fellow-countrymen,  that  they  are  of  the  literary  stuff  of  all 
time,  instead  of  only  their  own  time.     For  one  thing,  their 


xviii  PRE  FA  TOR  Y  NO  TE. 

dialect  is,  in  point  of  poetry,  against  them  ;  no  amount  of 
genius  could  render  that  quite  poetical.  Their  author  was 
as  unfortunate  in  this  as  he  was  fortunate  in  the  great 
opportunity  that  the  Slavery  struggle  in  America  brought 
him,  which  floated  so  many  poets  of  a  more  local  and 
temporary  faculty  than  his  into  the  high  seas  of  fame  for 
a  time.  It  was  a  similar  stimulus  that  some  earlier  English 
poets,  Wordsworth,  Coleridge,  Shelley,  Byron,  and  others, 
found  in  the  ferment  of  the  French  Revolution ;  but  with 
what  different  result. 

If  we  turn  for  light  from  the  Biglow  Papers  to  Lowell's 
mature  work  in  poetry  of  a  quite  different  order,  we  are 
similarly  unconvinced,  I  think.  Possibly,  it  is  our  defect, 
and  not  his.  However  this  may  be,  there  is  no  doubt  that 
such  strong  and  inspiriting  writing,  as  we  find  in  his  famous 
stanzas  in  honour  of  Lloyd-Garrison,  rank  him  high,  as  a 
man  speaking  with  authority,  and  not  as  the  scribes,  to  the 
men  of  his  own  time  : — 

*  O  Truth  !  O  Freedom  !  how  are  ye  still  born, 
In  the  rude  stable,  in  the  manger  nursed  ! 
What  humble  hands  unbar  those  gates  of  morn, 
Through  which  the  splendours  of  the  New  Day  burst ! 

Men  of  a  thousand  shifts  and  wiles,  look  here  ! 

See  one  straightforward  conscience  put  in  pawn 
To  win  a  world  ;  see  the  obedient  sphere 

By  bravery's  simple  gravitation  drawn. 

Shall  we  not  heed  the  lesson  taught  of  old. 

And  by  the  Present's  lips  repeated  still, 
In  our  own  single  manhood  to  be  bold, 

Fortressed  in  conscience  and  impregnable  will  ?  " 

There  is  the   heroic  ring  in  these  lines,  and  others,  like 
them,  that  Mr.  Lowell  wrote  :    the  ring  of  a  manly  voice 


PRE  FA  TOR  y  NO  TE.  xix 

that  did  not  fail  to  make  itself  eloquently  heard  on  the 
council  of  our  literary  senate.  The  voice,  indeed,  of  a 
strong  man,  a  true  and  masterful  contemporary ;  who 
beside  his  literary  effect,  let  us  remember,  used  all  his 
diplomatic  influence,  while  he  was  American  Minister,  to 
aid  the  federation  of  the  great  nations  for  which  he  was 
the  first  to  discover  the  harmonious  common  title  of  the 
"  English-speaking "  people  of  the  world ;  and  more  than 
this,  to  aid  that  wider  federation  still,  which  is  of  all 
mankind. 

Editor. 


'THE    BIGLOW   PAPERS. 


THE   BIGLOW  PAPERS. 


NOTICES  OF  AN  INDEPENDENT  PRESS. 

[I  HAVE  observed,  reader  (bene-  or  male-volent,  as  it  may  happen), 
that  it  is  customary  to  append  to  the  second  editions  of  books,  and  to 
the  second  works  of  authors,  short  sentences  commendatory  of  the  first, 
under  the  title  of  Notices  of  the  Press.  These,  I  have  been  given  to 
understand,  are  procurable  at  certain  established  rates,  payment  being 
made  either  in  money  or  advertising  patronage  by  the  publisher, 
or  by  an  adequate  outlay  of  servility  on  the  part  of  the  author.  Con- 
sidering these  things  with  myself,  and  also  that  such  notices  are  neither 
intended,  nor  generally  believed,  to  convey  any '  real  opinions,  being  a 
purely  ceremonial  accompaniment  of  literature,  and  resembling  certifi- 
cates to  the  virtues  of  various  morbiferal  panaceas,  I  conceived  that  it 
would  be  not  only  more  economical  to  prepare  a  sufficient  number  of 
such  myself,  but  also  more  immediately  subservient  to  the  end  in  view, 
to  prefix  them  to  this  our  primary  edition  rather  than  await  the  contin- 
gency of  a  second,  when  they  would  seem  to  be  of  small  utility.  To 
delay  attaching  the  bobs  until  the  second  attempt  at  flying  the  kite 
would  indicate  but  a  slender  experience  in  that  useful  art.  Neither 
has  it  escaped  my  notice,  nor  failed  to  afford  me  matter  of  reflection, 
that,  when  a  circus  or  a  caravan  is  about  to  visit  Jaalam,  the  initial  step 
is  to  send  forward  large  and  highly  ornamented  bills  of  performance  to 
be  hung  in  the  bar-room  and  the  post-office.  These  having  been  suffi- 
ciently gazed  at,  and  beginning  to  lose  their  attractiveness  except  for  the 
flies,  and,  truly,  the  boys  also  (in  whom  I  find  it  impossible  to  repress, 
even  during  school  hours,  certain  oral  and  telegraphic  communications 
concerning  the  expected  show),  upon  some  fine  morning  the  band  enters 


4    NOTICES  OF  AN  INDEPENDENT  PRESS. 

in  a  gaily-painted  wa^^on,  or  triumphal  chariot,  and  with  noisy  adver- 
tisement, by  means  of  brass,  wood,  and  sheepskin,  makes  the  circuit  of 
our  startled  village  streets.  Then,  as  the  exciting  sounds  draw  nearer 
and  nearer,  do  I  desiderate  those  eyes  of  Aristarchus,  "  whose  looks  were 
as  a  breeching  to  a  boy."  Then  do  I  perceive,  with  vain  regret  of 
wasted  opportunities,  the  advantage  of  a  pancratic  or  pantachnic  educa- 
tion, since  he  is  most  reverenced  by  my  little  subjects  who  can  throw  the 
cleanest  summerset  or  walk  most  securely  upon  the  revolving  cask. 
The  story  of  the  Pied  Piper  becomes  for  the  first  time  credible  to  me 
(albeit  confirmed  by  the  Hameliners  dating  their  legal  instruments  from 
the  period  of  his  exit),  as  I  behold  how  those  strains,  without  pretence 
of  magical  potency,  bewitch  the  pupillary  legs,  nor  leave  to  the 
pedagogic  an  entire  self-control.  For  these  reasons,  lest  my  kingly 
prerogative  should  suffer  diminution,  I  prorogue  my  restless  commons, 
whom  I  also  follow  into  the  street,  chiefly  lest  some  mischief  may  chance 
befall  them.  After  the  manner  of  such  a  band,  I  send  forward  the 
following  notices  of  domestic  manufacture,  to  make  brazen  proclama- 
tion, not  unconscious  of  the  advantage  which  will  accrue,  if  our  little 
craft,  cymbula  sutilis,  shall  seem  to  leave  port  with  a  clipping  breeze, 
and  to  carry,  in  nautical  phrase,  a  bone  in  her  mouth.  Nevertheless,  I 
have  chosen,  as  being  more  equitable,  to  prepare  some  also  sufficiently 
objurgatory,  that  readers  of  every  taste  may  find  a  dish  to  their  palate. 
I  have  modelled  them  upon  actually  existing  specimens,  preserved  in 
my  own  cabinet  erf  natural  curiosities.  One,  in  particular,  I  had  copied 
with  tolerable  exactness  from  a  notice  of  one  of  my  own  discourses, 
which,  from  its  superior  tone  and  appearance  of  vast  experience,  I  con- 
cluded to  have  been  written  by  a  man  at  least  three  hundred  years  of  age, 
though  I  recollected  no  existing  instance  of  such  antediluvian  longevity. 
Nevertheless,  I  afterwards  discovered  the  author  to  be  a  young  gentle- 
man preparing  for  the  ministry  under  the  direction  of  one  of  my  brethren 
in  a  neighbouring  town,  and  whom  I  had  once  instinctively  corrected  in 
a  Latin  quantity.  But  this  I  have  been  forced  to  omit,  from  its  too 
great  length.— H.  W.] 


From  the  Universal  Littery  Universe. 

Full  of  passages  which  rivet  the  attention  of  the  reader.  .  .  .  Under 
a  rustic  garb,  sentiments  are  conveyed  which  should  be  committed  to  the 
memory  and  engraven  on  the  heart  of  every  moral  and  social  being. 


NOTICES  OF  AN-  INDEPENDENT  PRESS.    5 

.  .  .  We  consider  this  a  unique  performance.  .  .  .  We  hope  to  see 
it  soon  introduced  into  our  common  schools.  .  .  .  Mr.  Wilbur  has  per- 
formed his  duties  as  editor  with  excellent  taste  and  judgment.  .  .  . 
This  is  a  vein  which  we  hope  to  see  successfully  prosecuted.  .  .  .  We 
hail  the  appearance  of  this  work  as  a  long  stride  toward  the  formation 
of  a  purely  aboriginal,  indigenous,  native,  and  American  literature.  We 
rejoice  to  meet  with  an  author  national  enough  to  break  away  from  the 
slavish  deference,  too  common  among  us,  to  English  grammar  and 
orthography.  .  .  .  Where  all  is  so  good,  we  are  at  a  loss  how  to  make 
extracts.  .  .  .  On  the  whole,  we  may  call  it  a  volume  which  no  library, 
pretending  to  entire  completeness,  should  fail  to  place  upon  its  shelves. 


From  the  Higginbottomopolis  Snapping-turtle. 

A  collection  of  the  merest  balderdash  and  doggerel  that  it  was  ever  our 
bad  fortune  to  lay  eyes  on.  The  author  is  a  vulgar  buffoon,  and  the 
editor  a  talkative,  tedious  old  fool.  We  use  strong  language,  but 
should  any  of  our  readers  peruse  the  book  (from  which  calamity  Heaven 
preserve  them  !),  they  will  find  reasons  for  it  thick  as  the  leaves  of 
Vallumbrozer,  or,  to  use  a  still  more  expressive  comparison,  as  the  com- 
bined heads  of  author  and  editor.  The  work  is  wretchedly  got  up.  .  .  . 
We  should  like  to  know  how  much  British  gold  was  pocketed  by  this 
libeller  of  our  country  and  her  purest  patriots. 


From  the  Oldfogrumville  Mentor^ 

We  have  not  had  time  to  do  more  than  glance  through  this  hand- 
somely printed  volume,  but  the  name  of  its  respectable  editor,  the  Rev. 
Mr.  Wilbur,  of  Jaalam,  will  afford  a  sufficient  guaranty  for  the  worth  of 
its  contents.  .  .  .  The  paper  is  white,  the  type  clear,  and  the  volume  of 
a  convenient  and  attractive  size.  ...  In  reading  this  elegantly-executed 
work,  it  has  seemed  to  us  that  a  passage  or  two  might  have  been 
retrenched  with  advantage,  and  that  the  general  style  of  dicti  n  was 
susceptible  of  a  higher  polish.  .  .  .  On  the  whole,  we  may  safely  leave 
the  ungrateful  task  of  criticism  to  the  reader.  We  will  barely  suggest, 
that  in  volumes  intended,  as  this  is,  for  the  illustration  of  a  provincial 
dialect  and  turns  of  expression,  a  dash  of  humour  or  satire  might  be 
thrown  in  with  advantage.  .  .  .  The  work  is  admirably  got  up.  .  .  . 


6    NOTICES  OF  AN  INDEPENDENT  PRESS. 

This  work  will  form  an  appropriate  ornament  to  the  centre-table.     It  is 
beautifully  printed,  on  paper  of  an  excellent  quality. 


From  the  Dekay  Bulwark. 

We  should  be  wanting  in  our  duty  as  the  conductor  of  that  tremendous 
engine,  a  public  press,  as  an  American,  and  as  a  man,  did  we  allow 
such  an  opportunity  as  is  presented  to  us  by  "The  Biglow  Papers"  to 
pass  by  without  entering  our  earnest  protest  against  such  attempts  (now, 
alas  !  too  common)  at  demoralising  the  public  sentiment.  Under  a 
wretched  mask  of  stupid  drollery,  slavery,  war,  the  social  glass,  and,  in 
short,  all  the  valuable  and  time-honoured  institutions  justly  dear  to  our 
common  humanity,  and  especially  to  republicans,  are  made  the  butt  of 
coarse  and  senseless  ribaldry  by  this  low-minded  scribbler.  It  is  time 
that  the  respectable  and  religious  portion  of  our  community  should  be 
aroused  to  the  alarming  inroads  of  foreign  Jacobinism,  sansculottism, 
and  infidelity.  It  is  a  fearful  proof  of  the  wide-spread  nature  of  this 
contagion,  that  these  secret  stabs  at  religion  and  virtue  are  given  from 
under  the  cloak  {credite,  posieril)  of  a  clergyman.  It  is  a  mournful 
spectacle  indeed  to  the  patriot  and  Christian  to  see  liberality  and  new 
ideas  (falsely  so  called, — they  are  as  old  as  Eden)  invading  the  sacred 
precincts  of  the  pulpit.  .  .  .  On  the  whole,  we  consider  this  volume  as 
one  of  the  first  shocking  results  which  we  predicted  would  spring  out  of 
the  late  French  "  Revolution"  (!). 


From  the  Bungtoivn  Copper  and  Comprehensive  Tocsin 
(a  tryiveakly  family  journal). 

Altogether  an  admirable  work.  .  .  .  Full  of  humour,  boisterous,  but 
delicate,— of  wit  withering  and  scorching,  yet  combined  with  a  pathos 
cool  as  morning  dew, — of  satire  ponderous  as  the  mace  of  Richard,  yet 
keen  as  the  scymitar  of  Saladin.  ...  A  work  full  of  "mountain- 
mirth,"  mischievous  as  Puck  and  lightsome  as  Ariel.  .  .  .  We  know 
not  whether  to  admire  most  the  genial,  fresh,  and  discursive  concinnity 
of  the  author,  or  his  playful  fancy,  weird  imagination,  and  compass  of 
style,  at  once  both  objective  and  subjective.  .  .  .  We  might  indulge  in 
some  criticisms,  but  were  the  author  other  than  he  is,  he  would  be  a 
different  being.     As  it  is,  he  has  a  wonderful  pose,  which  flits  from 


NOTICES  OF  AN  INDEPENDENT  PRESS.    7 

flower  to  flower,  and  bears  the  reader  irresistibly  along  on  its  eagle 
pinions  (like  Ganymede)  to  the  "highest  heaven  of  invention."  .  .  . 
We  love  a  book  so  purely  objective.  .  .  .  Many  of  his  pictures  of 
natural  scenery  have  an  extraordinary  subjective  clearness  and  fidelity. 
...  In  fine,  we  consider  this  as  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  volumes 
of  this  or  any  age.  We  know  of  no  English  author  who  could  have 
written  it.  It  is  a  work  to  which  the  proud  genius  of  our  country, 
standing  with  one  foot  on  the  Aroostook  and  the  other  on  the  Rio 
Grande,  and  holding  up  the  star-spangled  banner  amid  the  wreck  of 
matter  and  the  crush  of  worlds,  may  point  with  bewildering  scorn  of  the 
punier  efforts  of  enslaved  Europe.  .  .  .  We  hope  soon  to  encounter  our 
author  among  those  higher  walks  of  literature  in  which  he  is  evidently 
capable  of  achieving  enduring  fame.  Already  we  should  be  inclined  to 
assign  him  a  high  position  in  the  bright  galaxy  of  our  American  bards. 


From  the  Saltriver  Pilot  and  Flag  of  Freedom. 

A  volume  in  bad  grammar  and  worse  taste.  •  .  .  While  the  pieces 
here  collected  were  confined  to  their  appropriate  sphere  in  the  corners 
of  obscure  newspapers,  we  considered  them  wholly  beneath  contempt, 
but  as  the  author  has  chosen  to  come  forward  in  this  public  manner  he 
must  expect  the  lash  he  so  richly  merits.  .  .  .  Contemptible  slanders. 
.  .  .  Vilest  Billingsgate.  .  .  .  Has  raked  all  the  gutters  of  our  lan- 
guage. .  .  .  The  most  pure,  upright,  and  consistent  politicians  not  safe 
from  his  malignant  venom.  .  .  .  General  Gushing  comes  in  for  a  share 
of  his  vile  calumnies.  .  .  .  The  Reverend  Homer  Wilbur  is  a  disgrace 
to  his  cloth.  .  .  . 


From  the  World- Harmonic- yEolian- Attachment, 

Speech  is  silver  ;  silence  is  golden.  No  utterance  more  Orphic  than 
this.  While,  therefore,  as  highest  author,  we  reverence  him  whose  works 
continue  heroically  unwritten,  we  have  also  our  hopefiil  word  for  those 
who  with  pen  (from  wing  of  goose  loud-cackling,  or  seraph  God-commis- 
sioned) record  the  thing  that  is  revealed.  .  .  .  Under  mask  of  quaintest 
irony,  we  detect  here  the  deep,  storm-tost  (nigh  shipwracked)  soul, 
thunder-scarred,  semi-articulate,  but  ever  climbing  hopefully  toward  the 
peaceful  summits  of  an  Infinite  Sorrow.  .  .  .  Yes,  thou  poor,  forlorn 


8    NOTICES  OF  AN  INDEPENDENT  PRESS. 

Hosea,  with  Hebrew  fire-flaming  soul  in  thee,  for  thee  also  this  life  of  ours 
has  not  been  without  its  aspects  of  heavenliest  pity  and  laughingest  mirth. 
Conceivable  enough !  Through  coarse  Thersites-cloak,  we  have  revelation 
of  the  heart,  wild-glowing,  world-clasping,  that  is  in  him.  Bravely  he 
grapples  with  the  life-problem  as  it  presents  itself  to  him,  uncombed, 
shaggy,  careless  of  the  "nicer  proprieties,"  inexpert  of  "elegant  diction," 
yet  with  voice  audible  enough  to  whoso  hath  ears,  up  there  on  the  gravelly 
side-hills,  or  down  on  the  splashy,  Indiarubber-like  salt-marshes  of  native 
Jaalam.  To  this  soul  also  the  Necessity  of  Creating  somewhat  has 
unveiled  its  awful  front.  If  not  CEdipuses  and  Electras  and  Alcestises, 
then  in  God's  name  Birdofredum  Sawins  !  These  also  shall  get  born 
into  the  world,  and  filch  (if  so  need)  a  Zingali  subsistence  therein,  these 
lank,  omnivorous  Yankees  of  his.  He  shall  paint  the  Seen,  since  the 
Unseen  will  not  sit  to  him.  Yet  in  him  also  are  Nibelungen-lays,  and 
Iliads,  and  Ulysses- wanderings,  and  Divine  Comedies, — if  only  ccce 
he  could  come  at  them !  Therein  lies  much,  nay  all ;  for  what  truly  is 
this  which  we  name  All,  but  that  which  we  do  not  possess?  .  .  . 
Glimpses  also  are  given  us  of  an  old  father  Ezekiel,  not  without 
paternal  pride,  as  is  the  wont  of  such.  A  brown,  parchment-hided  old 
man  of  the  geoponic  or  bucolic  species,  grey-eyed,  we  fancy,  queued 
perhaps,  with  much  weather-cunning  and  plentiful  September-gale 
memories,  bidding  fair  in  good  time  to  become  the  Oldest  Inhabitant. 
After  such  hasty  apparition,  he  vanishes  and  is  seen  no  more.  ...  Of 
"  Rev.  Homer  Wilbur,  A.M.,  Pastor  of  the  First  Church  in  Jaalam," 
we  have  small  care  to  speak  here.  Spare  touch  in  him  of  his  Mele- 
sigenes  namesake,  save,  haply,  the — blindness !  A  tolerably  caliginose, 
nephelegeretous  elderly  gentleman,  with  infinite  faculty  of  sermonising, 
muscularised  by  long  practice,  and  excellent  digestive  apparatus,  and, 
for  the  rest,  well-meaning  enough,  and  with  small  private  illuminations 
(somewhat  tallowy,  it  is  to  be  feared)  of  his  own.  To  him,  there, 
"  Pastor  of  the  First  Church  in  Jaalam,"  our  Hosea  presents  himself 
as  a  quite  inexplicable  Sphinx-rid.dle.  A  rich  poverty  of  Latin  and 
Greek, — so  far  is  clear  enough,  even  to  eyes  peering  myopic  through 
hom-lensed  editorial  spectacles, — but  naught  farther  ?  O  purblind, 
well-meaning,  altogether  fuscous  Melesigenes- Wilbur,  there  are  things 
in  him  incommunicable  by  stroke  of  birch !  Did  it  ever  enter  that  old 
bewildered  head  of  thine  that  there  was  the  Fossibility  of  the  Infinite  in 
him  ?  To  thee,  quite  wingless  (and  even  featherless)  biped,  has  not  so 
much  even  as  a  dream  of  wings  ever  come  ?  "  Talented  young 
parishioner  ?  "    Among  the  Arts  wherejf  thou  art  Magisler,  does  that 


NOTICES  OF  AN  INDEPENDENT  PRESS.    9 

of  seeing  happen  to  be  one  ?  Unhappy  Artium  Magister  !  Somehow 
a  Nemean  lion,  fulvous,  torrid-eyed,  dry-nursed  in  broad-howling  sand- 
wildernesses  of  a  sufficiently  rare  spirit-Libya  (it  may  be  supposed)  has 
got  whelped  among  the  sheep.  Already  he  stands  wild-glaring,  with 
feet  clutching  the  ground  as  with  oak-roots,  gathering  for  a  Remus- 
spring  over  the  walls  of  thy  little  fold.  In  Heaven's  name,  go  not 
near  him  with  that  flybite  crook  of  thine !  In  good  time,  thou  painful 
preacher,  thou  wilt  go  to  the  appointed  place  of  departed  Artillery- 
Election  Sermons,  Right-Hands  of  Fellowship,  and  Results  of  Councils, 
gathered  to  thy  spiritual  fathers  with  much  Latin  of  the  Epitaphial  sort ; 
thou,  too,  shalt  have  thy  reward ;  but  on  him  the  Eumenides  have 
looked,  not  Xantippes  of  the  pit,  snake-tressed,  finger-threatening,  but 
radiantly  calm  as  on  antique  gems ;  for  him  paws  impatient  the  winged 
courser  of  the  gods,  champing  unwelcome  bit ;  him  the  starry  deeps, 
the  empyrean  glooms,  and  far-flashing  splendours  await. 


From  the  Onion  Grove  Phcenix. 

A  talented  young  townsman  of  ours,  recently  returned  from  a  Conti- 
nental tour,  and  who  is  already  favourably  known  to  our  readers  by  his 
sprightly  letters  from  abroad  which  have  graced  our  columns,  called  at 
our  office  yesterday.  We  learn  from  him,  that,  having  enjoyed  the 
distinguished  privilege,  while  in  Germany,  of  an  introduction  to  the 
celebrated  Von  Humbug,  he  took  the  opportunity  to  present  that 
eminent  man  with  a  copy  of  the  Biglo-w  Papers,  The  next  morning  he 
received  the  following  note,  which  he  has  kindly  furnished  us  for  pub- 
lication. We  prefer  to  print  it  verbatim,  knowing  that  our  readers  will 
readily  forgive  the  few  errors  into  which  the  illustrious  writer  has  fallen, 
through  ignorance  of  our  language. 

"High-Worthy  Mister! 

"  I  shall  also  now  especially  happy  starve,  because  I  have  more  or 
less  a  work  of  one  those  aboriginal  Red-Men  seen  in  which  have  I 
so  deaf  an  interest  ever  taken  fullworthy  on  the  self  shelf  with  our 
Gottsched  to  be  upset. 

"  Pardon  my  in  the  English-speech  unpractice! 

"Von  Humbug." 

He  also  sent  with  the  above  note  a  copy  of  his  famous  work  on 
Cosmetics,  to  be  presented  to  Mr.  Biglow ;  but  this  was  taken  from  our 
friend  by  the  English  custom-house  officers,  probably  through  a  petty 


lo  NOTICES  OF  AN  INDEFENDENT  PRESS. 

national  spite.  No  doubt  it  has  by  this  time  found  its  way  into  the 
British  Museum.  We  trust  this  outrage  will  be  exposed  in  all  our 
American  papers.  We  shall  do  our  best  to  bring  it  to  the  notice  of  the 
State  Department.  Our  numerous  readers  will  share  in  the  pleasure 
we  experience  at  seeing  our  young  and  vigorous  national  literature  thus 
encouragingly  patted  on  the  head  by  this  venerable  and  world-renowned 
German.  We  love  to  see  these  reciprocations  of  good-feeling  between 
the  different  branches  of  the  great  Anglo-Saxon  race. 

[The  following  genuine  "  notice  "  having  met  my  eye,  I  gladly  insert 
a  portion  of  it  here,  the  more  especially  as  it  contains  one  of  Mr. 
Biglow's  poems  not  elsewhere  printed. — H.  W.] 


From  thejaalam  Independent  Blunderbuss. 

.  .  .  But  while  we  lament  to  see  our  young  townsman  thus  mingling 
in  the  heated  contests  of  party  politics,  we  think  we  detect  in  him  the 
presence  of  talents  which,  if  properly  directed,  might  give  an  innocent 
pleasure  to  many.  As  a  proof  that  he  is  competent  to  the  production 
of  other  kinds  of  poetry,  we  copy  for  our  readers  a  short  fragment  of  a 
pastoral  by  him,  the  manuscript  of  which  was  loaned  us  by  a  friend. 
The  title  of  it  is  "  The  Courtin'." 

Zekle  crep'  up,  quite  unbeknown, 

An'  peeked  in  thru  the  winder. 
An'  there  sot  Huldy  all  alone, 

'ith  no  one  nigh  to  bender. 

Agin'  the  chimbly  crooknecks  hung. 

An'  in  amongst  'em  rusted 
The  ole  Queen^  arm  thet  gran'ther  Young 

Fetched  back  frum  Concord  busted. 

The  wannut  logs  shot  sparkles  out 

Towards  the  pootiest,  bless  her ! 
An'  leetle  fires  danced  all  about 

The  chiny  on  the  dresser. 

The  very  room,  coz  she  wus  in, 

Looked  warm  frum  floor  to  ceilin', 
An'  she  looked  full  ez  rosy  agin 

Ez  th'  apples  she  wuz  peelin'. 


NOTICES  OF  AN  INDEPENDENT  PRESS,  ii 

She  heerd  a  foot  an'  knowed  it,  tu, 

Araspin'  on  the  scraper, — 
All  ways  to  once  her  feelins  flew 

Like  sparks  in  burnt-up  paper. 

He  kin'  o'  I'itered  on  the  mat, 

Some  doubtfle  o'  the  seekle ; 
His  heart  kep'  goin'  pitypat, 

But  hem  went  pity  Zekle. 

An'  yet  she  gin  her  cheer  a  jerk 

Ez  though  she  wished  him  furder. 
An'  on  her  apples  kep'  to  work 

Ez  ef  a  wager  spurred  her. 

"  You  want  to  see  my  Pa,  I  spose  ?" 

"  Wall,  no  ;  I  come  designin' " 

"  To  see  my  Ma  ?    She's  sprinklin'  clo'es 

Agin  to-morrow's  i'nin'.' 

He  stood  a  spell  on  one  foot  fust, 

Then  stood  a  spell  on  tothcr. 
An'  on  which  one  he  felt  the  wust 

He  couldn't  ha'  told  ye,  nuther. 

Sez  he,  "  I'd  better  caH  agin  ; " 

Sez  she,  "  Think  likely.  Mister ;" 
The  last  word  pricked  him  like  a  pin, 

An' — wal,  he  up  and  kist  her. 

When  Ma  bimeby  upon  'em  slips, 

Huldy  sot  pale  ez  ashes, 
All  kind  o'  smily  round  the  lips 

An'  teary  round  the  lashes. 

Her  blood  riz  quick,  though,  like  the  tide 

Down  to  the  Bay  o'  Fundy, 
An'  all  I  know  is  they  wuz  cried 

In  meetin',  come  nex  Sunday. 


Satis  multis  sese  emptores  futuros  libri  professis,  Georgius  Nichols, 
Cantabrigiensis,  opus  emittet  de  parte  gravi  sed  adhuc  neglecta  historise 
naturalis  cum  titulo  sequenti,  videlicet : 

Conatus  ad  Dtlineationem  naturak'n  nonnihil  perfectiorem  Scarabcti 
Bombilaioris,  vulgo   dicti   Humbug,  ab  Homero  Wilbur,  Artium 


12  NOTICES  OF  AN  INDEPENDENT  PRESS. 

Magistro,  Sodetatis  historico-naturalis  Jaalamensis  Praeside  (Secretario, 
Socioque  (eheu  !)  singulo),  multarumque  alianim  Societatum  eruditaruni 
(sive  ineruditarum)  tam  domesticarum  quam  transmarinarum  Socio— 
forsitan  futuro. 

PROEMIUM. 
Lectori  Benevolo  S. 

Toga  scholastica  nondum  deposita,  quum  systemata  varia  entomo- 
logica,  a  viris  ejus  scientise  cultoribus  studiosissimis  summa  diligentia 
aedificata,  penitus  indagassem,  non  fuit  quin  luctuose  omnibus  in  iis, 
quamvis  aliter  laude  dignissimis,  hiatum  magni  momenti  perciperem. 
Tunc,  nesdo  quo  motu  superiore  impulsus,  aut  qua  captus  dulcedine 
opens,  ad  ei«n  implendum  (Curtius  alter)  me  solemniter  devovi.  Nee 
ab  isto  labore,  Scu/wvlus  imposito,  abstinui  antequam  tractatulum 
sufficienter  inconcinnum  lingua  vemacula  perfeceram.  Inde,  juveniliter 
tumefactus,  et  barathro  ineptiae  tup  /3i/3\to7r«\w«'  (necnon  "  Publid 
Legentis")  nusquam  explorato,  me  composuisse  quod  quasi  placentas 
praefervidas  (ut  sic  dicam)  homines  ingurgitarent  credidi.  Sed,  quum 
huic  et  alio  bibliopolse  MSS.  mea  submisissem  et  nihil  solidius  respon- 
sione  valde  negativa  in  Musseum  meum  retulissem,  horror  ingens  atque 
misericordia,  ob  crassitudinem  Lambertianam  in  cerebris  homunculorum 
istius  muneris  coelesti  quadam  ira  infixam,  me  invasere.  Extemplo 
mei  solius  impensis  librum  edere  decrevi,  nihil  omnino  dubitans  quin 
"  Mundus  Scientificus "  (ut  aiunt)  crumenam  meam  ampliter  repleret. 
Nullam,  attamen,  ex  agro  illo  meo  parvulo  segetem  demessui,  praeter 
gaudium  vacuum  bene  de  Republica  merendi.  Iste  panis  meus 
pretiosus  super  aquas  literarias  feeculentas  praefidenter  jactus,  quasi 
Harpyiarum  quarundam  (scilicet  bibliopolarum  istorum  facinorosorum 
supradictorum)  tactu  randdus,  intra  perpaucos  dies  mihi  domum  rediit. 
Et,  quum  ipse  tali  victu  ali  non  tolerarem,  primum  in  mentem  venit 
pistori  (typographo  nempe)  nihilominus  solvendum  esse.  Animum  non 
iddrco  demisi,  imo  aeque  ac  pueri  naviculas  suas  penes  se  lino  retinent 
(eo  ut  e  recto  cursu  delapsas  ad  ripam  retrahant),  sic  ego  Argo  meam 
chartaceam  fluctibus  laborantem  a  quaesitu  velleris  aurei,  ipse  potius 
tonsus  pelleque  exutus,  mente  solida  revocavi.  Metaphoram  ut  mutem, 
boomarangam  meam  a  scopo  aberrantem  retraxi,  dum  majore  vi, 
occasione  ministrante,  adversus  Fortunam  intorquerem.  Ast  mihi, 
talia  volventi,  et,  sicut  Saturnus  ille  ircuSo^dpos,  liberos  intellectus  mei 
depascere  fidenti,  casus  miserandus,  nee  antea  inauditus,  supervenit. 
Nam,   ut  ferunt  Scythas  pietatis  causa   et   parsimoniae,   parentes  suos 


NOTICES  OF  AN  INDEPENDENT  PRESS.  13 

mortuos  devorasse,  sic  filius  hie  meus  primogenitus,  Scythis  ipsis  minus 
mansuetus,  patrem  vivum  totum  et  calcitrantem  exsorbere  enixus  est. 
Nee  tamen  hac  de  causa  sobolem  meam  esurientem  exheredavi.  Sed 
famem  istam  pro  valido  testimonio  virilitatis  roborisque  potius  habui, 
cibumque  ad  earn  satiandam,  salva  paterna  mea  came,  petii.  Et  quia 
bilem  illam  seaturientem  ad  scs  etiam  concoquendum  idoneam 
esse  estimabam,  unde  aes  alienum,  ut  minoris  pretii,  haberem 
cireumspexi.  Rebus  ita  se  habentibus,  ab  avunculo  meo  Johanne 
Doolittle,  Armigero,  impetravi  ut  pecunias  necessarias  suppeditaret, 
ne  opus  esset  mihi  uniyersitatem  relinquendi  antequam  ad  gradum 
primum  in  artibus  pervenissem.  Tunc  ego,  salvum  facere  patronum 
meum  munificum  maxime  cupiens,  omnes  libros  primse  editionis  opens 
mei  non  venditos  una  cum  privilegio  in  omne  sevum  ejusdem  imprimendi 
et  edendi  avunculo  meo  dicto  pigneravi.  Ex  iUo  die,  atro  lapide 
notando,  curse  vociferantes  familise  singulis  annis  crescentis  eo  usque 
insultabant  ut  nunquam  tam  carum  pignus  e  vineulis  istis  aheneis 
solvere  possem. 

Avunculo  vero  nuper  mortuo,  quum  inter  alios  consanguineos  testa- 
menti  ejus  leetionem  audiendi  causa  advenissem,  erectis  auribus  verba 
talia  sequentia  accepi : — "  Quoniam  persuasum  habeo  meum  dilectum 
nepotem  Homerum,  longa  et  intima  rerum  angustarum  domi  experi- 
entia,  aptissimum  esse  qui  divitias  tueatur,  beneficenterque  ac  prudentei 
iis  divinis  creditis  utatur, — ergo,  motus  hisce  cogitationibus,  exque 
amore  meo  in  ilium  magno,  do  legoque  nepoti  caro  meo  suprano- 
minato  omnes  singularesque  istas  possessiones  nee  ponderabiles  nee 
computabiles  meas  quae  sequuntur,  scilicet :  quingentos  libros  quos 
mihi  pigneravit  dictus  Homerus,  anno  lucis  1792,  cum  privilegio  edendi 
et  repetendi  opus  istud  *  scientificum '  (quod  dicunt)  suum,  si  sic  elegerit. 
Tamen  D.  O.  M.  precor  oculos  Homeri  nepotis  mei  ita  aperiat  eumque 
moveat,  ut  libros  istos  in  bibliotheca  unius  e  plurimis  castellis  suis^ 
Hispaniensibus  tuto  abscondat." 

His  verbis  (vix  credibilibus)  auditis,  cor  meum  in  pectore  exsultavit. 
Deinde,  quoniam  tractatus  Anglice  scriptus  spem  auctoris  fefellerat, 
quippe  quum  studium  Historias  Naturalis  in  Republica  nostra  inter 
factionis  strepitum  languescat,  Latine  versum  edere  statui,  et  eo  potius 
quia  nescio  quomodo  disciplina  academica  et  duo  diplomata  proficiant, 
nisi  quod  peritos  linguarum  omnino  mortuarum  (et  damnandarum,  ut 
dicebat  iste  -Kavovpyo^  Gulielmus  Cobbett)  nos  faciant. 

Et  mihi  adhuc  superstes  est  tota  ilia  editio  prima,  quam  quasi 
crepitaculum  per  quod  dentes  canines,  entibam  retineo. 


14  NOTICES  OF  AN  INDEPENDENT  PRESS, 

OPERIS  SPECIMEN. 
(Ad exemplum  Johannis  Physiophili  speciminis  Monachohgia.) 

12.  S.  B.     Militarise  Wilbur.     Camifex,  Jablonsk.     Prtfanm^ 

Desfont. 

[Male  hancce  speciem  Cyelopem  Fabricius  vocat,  ut  qui  singulo  oculo 
ad  quod  sui  interest  distinguitur.  Melius  vero  Isaacus  Outis  nullum 
inter  S.  milit.     S.que  Belzebul  (Fabric.  152)  discrimen  esse  defendit.] 

Habitat  civitat.  Americ.  austral. 

Aureis  lineis  splendidus  ;  plerumque  tamen  sordidus,  utpote  lanienas 
valde  frequentans,  fcetore  sanguinis  allectus.  Amat  quoque  insuper 
septa  apricari,  neque  inde,  nisi  maxima  conatione,  detruditur.  Candi- 
datus  ergo  populariter  vocatus.  Caput  cristam  quasi  pennarum  ostendit. 
Pro  cibo  vaccam  publicam  callide  mulget ;  abdomen  enorme  ;  facultas 
suctus  haud  &cile  estimanda.  Otiosus,  fatuus ;  ferox  nihilominus, 
semperque  dimicare  paratus.     Tortuose  repit. 

Capite  ssepe  maxima  cum  cura  dissecto,  ne  illud  rudimentum  etiam 
cerebri  commune  omnibus  prope  insectis  detegere  poteram. 

Unam  de  hoc  S.  milit.  rem  singularem  notavi ;  nam  S.  Guineens. 
(Fabric.  143)  servos  facit,  et  idcirco  a  multis  summa  in  reverentia 
habitus,  quasi  scintillas  rationis  psene  humanse  demonstrans. 

24.  S.  B.     Criticus,  Wilbur.     Zclius,  Fabric.     Fygmatts^ 
Carlskn. 

[Stultissime  Johannes  Stryx  cum  S.  punctato  (Fabric.  64-109)  con- 
fundit.  Specimina  quamplurima  scrutationi  microscopicae  subjeci, 
nunquam  tamen  unum  ulla  indicia  puncti  cujusvis  prorsus  ostendentem 
inveni.] 

Praecipue  formidolosus,  insectatusque,  in  proxima  rima  anon)Tiia  sese 
abscondit,  we,  we,  creberrime  stridens.     Ineptus,  segnipes. 

Habitat  ubique  gentium  ;  in  sicco  ;  nidum  suum  terebratione  inde- 
fessa  sedificans.  Cibus :  Libros  depascit ;  siccos  prxcipue  seligens,  et 
forte  succidum. 


MELIBCEUS-HIPPONAX. 


THE 


BiGLOw    Papers, 

EDITED, 

WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION,     NOTES,    GLOSSARY, 
AND  COPIOUS   INDEX, 


BY 

HOMER  WILBUR,  A.M., 

PASTOR  OF  THE  FIRST  CHURCH   IN  JAALAM  AND  (PROSPECTIVE) 

MEMBER  OF  MANY  LITERARY,   LEARNED,   AND 

SCIENTIFIC   SOCIETIES. 

{For  whick  seepage  19.) 

"  The  ploughman's  whistle,  or  the  trivial  flute, 
Finds  more  respect  than  great  Apollo's  lute." 

Quarles's  Emblems,  B.  ii.  E.  8. 

"Margaritas,  munde  uorcine,  calcasti:  en,  siliquas  accipe." 

^ac.  Car.  Fil.  ad  Tub.  Leg.  §  I. 


NOTE   TO   TITLE-PAGE. 

IT  will  not  have  escaped  the  attentive  eye  that  I  have,  on  the  title- 
page,  omitted  those  honorary  appendages  to  the  editorial  name 
which  not  only  add  greatly  to  the  value  of  every  book,  but  whet  and 
exacerbate  the  appetite  of  the  reader.  For  not  only  does  he  surmise 
that  an  honorary  membership  of  literary  and  scientific  societies  implies 
a  certain  amount  of  necessary  distinction  on  the  part  of  the  recipient  of 
such  decorations,  but  he  is  willing  to  trust  himself  more  entirely  to  an 
author  who  writes  under  the  fearful  responsibility  of  involving  the 
reputation  of  such  bodies  as  the  S.  Arc/iai/.  Dakom.,  or  the  Acad.  Lit. 
et  Sclent.  Kamtschat.  I  cannot  but  think  that  the  early  editions  of 
Shakespeare  and  Milton  would  have  met  with  more  rapid  and  general 
acceptance,  but  for  the  barrenness  of  their  respective  title-pages ;  and  I 
believe  that,  even  now,  a  publisher  of  the  works  of  either  of  those  justly 
distinguished  men  would  find  his  account  in  procuring  their  admission 
to  the  membership  of  learned  bodies  on  the  Continent, — a  proceeding 
no  whit  more  incongruous  than  the  reversal  of  the  judgment  against 
Socrates,  when  he  was  already  more  than  twenty  centuries  beyond  the 
reach  of  antidotes,  and  when  his  memory  had  acquired  a  deserved 
respectability.  I  conceive  that  it  was  a  feeling  of  the  importance  of  this 
precaution  which  induced  Mr.  Locke  to  style  himself  "Gent."  on  the 
title-page  of  his  Essay,  as  who  should  say  to  his  readers  that  they  could 
receive  his  metaphysics  on  the  honour  of  a  gentleman. 

Nevertheless,  finding  that,  without  descending  to  a  smaller  size  of 
type  than  would  have  been  compatible  with  the  dignity  of  the  several 
societies  to  be  named,  I  could  not  compress  my  intended  list  within  the 
limits  of  a  single  page,  and  thinking,  moreover,  that  the  act  would 
carry  with  it  an  air  of  decorous  modesty,  I  have  chosen  to  take  the 
reader  aside,  as  it  were,  into  my  private  closet,  and  there  not  only 
exhibit  to  him  the  diplomas  which  I  already  possess,  but  also  to  furnish 
him  with  a  prophetic  vision  of  those  which  I  may,  without   undue 

3 


1 8  NOTE  TO  TITLE-PAGE. 

presumption,  hope  for,  as  not  beyond  the  reach  of  human  ambition  and 
attainment.  And  I  am  the  rather  induced  to  this  from  the  fact,  thai 
my  name  has  been  unaccountably  dropped  from  the  last  triennial 
catalogue  of  our  beloved  Ahna  Mater.  Whether  this  is  to  be  attributed 
to  the  difficulty  of  Latinising  any  of  those  honorary  adjuncts  (with  a 
complete  list  of  which  I  took  care  to  furnish  the  proper  persons  nearly  a 
year  beforehand),  or  whether  it  had  its  origin  in  any  more  culpable 
motives,  I  forbear  to  consider  in  this  place,  the  matter  being  in  course 
of  painful  investigation.  But,  however  this  may  be,  I  felt  the  omission 
the  more  keenly,  as  I  had,  in  expectation  of  the  new  catalogue,  enriched 
the  library  of  the  Jaalam  Athenaeum  with  the  old  one  then  in  my 
possession,  by  which  means  it  has  come  about  that  my  children  will  be 
deprived  of  a  never  wearpng  winter  evening's  amusement  in  looking 
out  the  name  of  their  parent  in  that  distinguished  roll.     Those  harmless 

innocents  had  at  least  committed  no but  I  forbear,  having  intrusted 

my  reflections  and  animadversions  on  this  painful  topic  to  the  safe 
keeping  of  my  private  diary,  intended  for  posthumous  publication.  I 
state  this  fact  here,  in  order  that  certain  nameless  individuals,  who  are, 
perhaps,  overmuch  congratulating  themselves  upon  my  silence,  may 
know  that  a  rod  is  in  pickle  which  the  vigorous  hand  of  a  justly-incensed 
posterity  will  apply  to  their  memories. 

The  careful  reader  will  note  that,  in  the  list  which  I  have  prepared, 
I  have  included  the  names  of  several  Cisatlantic  societies  to  which  a 
place  is  not  commonly  assigned  in  processions  of  this  nature.  I  have 
ventured  to  do  this,  not  only  to  encourage  native  ambition  and  genius, 
but  also  because  I  have  never  been  able  to  perceive  in  what  way 
distance  (unless  we  suppose  them  at  the  end  of  a  lever)  could  increase 
the  weight  of  learned  bodies.  As  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  extend  my 
researches  among  such  stuffed  specimens  as  occasionally  reach  America, 
I  have  discovered  no  generic  difference  between  the  antipodal  Fogrum 
Japonicum  and  the  F.  Americatiuvi  sufficiently  common  in  our  own 
immediate  neighbourhood.  Yet,  with  a  becoming  deference  to  the 
popular  belief  that  distinctions  of  this  sort  are  enhanced  in  value 
by  every  additional  mile  they  travel,  I  have  intermixed  the  names 
of  some  tolerably  distant  literary  and  other  associations  with  the 
rest. 

I  add  here,  also,  an  advertisement,  which,  that  it  may  be  the  more 
readily  understood  by  those  persons  especially  interested  therein,  I  have 
written  in  that  curtailed  and  otherwise  maltreated  canine  Latin,  to  the 
writing  and  reading  of  which  they  are  accustomed. 


NOTE  TO  TITLE-PAGE.  19 

Omnib.  per  tot.  Orb.  Terrar.  Catalog.  Academ.  Edd. 

Minim,  gent,  diplom.  ab  inclytiss.  acad.  vest,  orans,  vir.  honorand. 
operosiss.,  at  sol.  ut  sciat.  quant,  glor.  nom.  meum  (dipl.  fort,  concess.) 
catal.  vest.  temp,  fiitur.  affer.,  ill.  subjec,  addit.  omnib.  titul.  honorar. 
qu.  adh.  non  tant.  opt.  quam  probab.  put. 

*,*  Litt.  Uncial,  distinx.  ut  PrcES.  S.  Hist.  Nat.  Jaal. 

HOMER  US  WILBUR,  Mr.,  Episc.  Jaalam,  S.  T.  D.  1850,  et  Yal. 
1849,  et  Neo-Caes.  et  Brun.  et  Gulielm.  1852,  et  Gul.  et  Mar.  et  Bowd. 
et  Georgiop.  et  Viridimont.  et  Columb.  Nov,  Ebor.  1853,  et  Amherst, 
et  Watervill.  et  S.  Jarlath.  Hib.  et  S.  Mar.  et  S.  Joseph,  et  S.  And. 
Scot.  1854,  et  Nashvill.  et  Dart,  et  Dickins.  et  Concord,  et  Wash,  et 
Columbian,  et  Chariest,  et  JeflF.  et  Dubl.  et  Oxon.  et  Cantab,  et  cset. 
185s,  P,U,N,C,H.  et  J.U.D.  Gott.  et  Osnab.  et  Heidelb,  i860,  et 
Acad.  Bore  us.  Berolin.  Soc,  et  SS.  RR.  Lugd.  Bat.  et  Patav.  et 
Lond.  et  Edinb.  et  Ins.  Feejee.  et  Null.  Terr,  et  Pekin.  Soc.  Hon.  et 
S.  H.  S.  et  S,  P.  A.  et  A.  A.  S.  et  S.  Humb.  Univ.  et  S.  Omn.  Rer. 
Quarund.  q.  Aliar.  Promov.  Passamaquod.  et  H.  P.  C.  et  I.  O.  H,  et 
A,  A.  *.  et  n.  K.  P.  et  *.  B.  K.  et  Peucin.  et  Erosoph.  et  Philadelph. 
et  Frat,  in  Unit,  et  S.  T.  et  S.  Archaeolog.  Athen.  et  Acad.  Scient  et 
Lit.  Panorm.  et  SS.  R.  H.  Matrit,  et  Beeloochist.  et  Caf&ar.  et  Caribb, 
et  M,  S.  Reg.  Paris,  et  S.  Am.  Antiserv,  Soc.  Hon.  et  P.  D.  Gott.  et 
LL.  D.  1852,  et  D.  C.  L.  et  Mus.  Doc  Oxon.  i860,  et  M.  M.  S.  S.  et 
M.  D.  1854,  et  Med.  Fac.  Univ.  Harv.  Soc,  et  S.  pro  Convers.  Polly- 
wog.  Soc.  Hon.  et  Higgl.  Piggl.  et  LL.  B.  1853,  et  S.  pro  Christianiz. 
Moschet,  Soc,  et  SS.  Ante-Diluv.  ubiq.  Gent.  Soc.  'Ton.  et  Civit. 
Cleric.  Jaalam.  et  S.  pro  Diffus  General.  Tenebr.  Secret.  Corr. 


INTRODUCTION 

When,  more  than  three  years  ago,  my  talented  young 
parishioner,  Mr.  Biglow,  came  to  me  and  submitted  to 
my  animadversions  the  first  of  his  poems  which  he  in- 
tended to  commit  to  the  more  hazardous  trial  of  a  city 
newspaper,  it  never  so  much  as  entered  my  imagination  to 
conceive  that  his  productions  would  ever  be  gathered  into 
a  fair  volume,  and  ushered  into  the  august  presence  of  the 
reading  public  by  myself.  So  little  are  we  short-sighted 
mortals  able  to  predict  the  event  1  I  confess  that  there  is 
to  me  a  quite  new  satisfaction  in  being  associated  (though 
only  as  sleeping  partner)  in  a  book  which  can  stand  by 
itself  in  an  independent  unity  on  the  shelves  of  libraries. 
For  there  is  always  this  drawback  from  the  pleasure  of 
printing  a  sermon,  that,  whereas  the  queasy  stomach  of  this 
generation  will  not  bear  a  discourse  long  enough  to  make  a 
separate  volume,  those  religious  and  godly-minded  children 
(those  Samuels,  if  I  may  call  them  so)  of  the  brain  must  at 
first  lie  buried  in  an  undistinguished  heap,  and  then  get  such 
resurrection  as  is  vouchsafed  to  them,  mummy-wrapt  with 
a  score  of  others  in  a  cheap  binding,  with  no  other  mark  of 
distinction  than  the  word  ^'■Miscellaneous"  printed  upon  the 
back.  Far  be  it  from  me  to  claim  any  credit  for  the  quite 
unexpected  popularity  which  I  am  pleased  to  find  these 
bucolic  strains  have  attained  unto.  If  I  know  myself,  I  am 
measurably  free  from  the  itch  of  vanity;  yet  I  may  be 
allowed  to  say  that  I  was  not  backward  to  recognise  in 


22  INTRODUCTION. 

them  a  certain  wild,  puckery,  acidulous  (sometimes  even 
verging  toward  that  point  which,  in  our  rustic  phrase,  is 
termed  shut-eye)  flavour,  not  wholly  unpleasing,  nor  un- 
wholesome, to  palates  cloyed  with  the  sugariness  of  tamed 
and  cultivated  fruit.  It  may  be,  also,  that  some  touches  of 
my  own,  here  and  there,  may  have  led  to  their  wider 
acceptance,  albeit  solely  from  my  larger  experience  of 
literature  and  authorship.^ 

I  was,  at  first,  inclined  to  discourage  Mr.  Biglow's 
attempts,  as  knowing  that  the  desire  to  poetise  is  one 
of  the  diseases  naturally  incident  to  adolescence,  which,  if 
the  fitting  remedies  be  not  at  once  and  with  a  bold  hand 
applied,  may  become  chronic,  and  render  one,  who  might 
else  have  become  in  due  time  an  ornament  of  the  social 
circle,  a  painful  object  even  to  nearest  friends  and  relatives. 
But  thinking,  on  a  further  experience,  that  there  was  a 
germ  of  promise  in  him  which  required  only  culture  and 
the  pulling  up  of  weeds  from  around  it,  I  thought  it  best  to 
set  before  him  the  acknowledged  examples  of  English  com- 
positions in  verse,  and  leave  the  rest  to  natural  emulation. 
With  this  view,  I  accordingly  lent  him  some  volumes  of 
Pope  and  Goldsmith,  to  the  assiduous  study  of  which  he 
promised  to  devote  his  evenings.  Not  long  afterward,  he 
brought  me  some  verses  written  upon  that  model,  a  speci- 
men of  which  I  subjoin,  having  changed  some  phrases  of 
less  elegancy,  and  a  few  rhymes  objectionable  to  the  cul- 
tivated ear.  The  poem  consisted  of  childish  reminiscences, 
and  the  sketches  which  follow  will  not  seem  destitute  of 

*  The  reader  curious  in  such  matters  may  refer  (if  he  can  find  them) 
to  "A  Sermon  preached  on  the  Anniversary  of  the  Dark  Day,"  "An 
Artillery  Election  Sermon,"  "A  Discourse  on  the  Late  Eclipse," 
"Dorcas,  a  Funeral  Sermon  on  the  Death  of  Madam  Submit  Tidd, 
Relict  of  the  late  Experience  Tidd,  Esq.,"  etc.,  etc. 


INTRODUCTION.  23 

truth  to  those  whose  fortunate  education  began  in  a  country 
village.  And,  first,  let  us  hang  up  his  charcoal  portrait  of 
the  school-dame. 

"  Propt  on  the  marsh,  a  dwelling  now,  I  see 
The  humble  school-house  of  my  A,  B,  C, 
Where  well-drilled  urchins,  each  behind  his  tire, 
Waited  in  ranks  the  wished  command  to  fire, 
Then  all  together,  when  the  signal  came. 
Discharged  their  a-b  abs  against  the  dame. 
Daughter  of  Danaus,  who  could  daily  pour 
In  treacherous  pipkins  her  Pierian  store. 
She,  'mid  the  volleyed  learning  firm  and  calm, 
Patted  the  furloughed  ferule  on  her  palm, 
And,  to  our  wonder,  could  divine  at  once 
Who  flashed  the  pan,  and  who  was  downright  dunce. 

There  young  Devotion  learned  to  climb  with  ease 
The  gnarly  limbs  of  Scripture  family-trees. 
And  he  was  most  commended  and  admired 
Who  soonest  to  the  topmost  twig  perspired  ; 
Each  name  was  called  as  many  various  ways 
As  pleased  the  reader's  ear  on  different  days. 
So  that  the  weather,  or  the  ferule's  stings, 
Colds  in  the  head,  or  fifty  other  things, 
Transformed  the  helpless  Hebrew  thrice  a  week 
To  guttural  Pequot  or  resounding  Greek, 
The  vibrant  accent  skipping  here  and  there. 
Just  as  it  pleased  invention  or  despair  ; 
No  controversial  Hebraist  was  the  Dame  ; 
With  or  without  the  points  pleased  her  the  same ; 
If  any  tyro  found  a  name  too  tough. 
And  looked  at  her,  pride  furnished  skill  enough  ; 
She  nerved  her  larynx  for  the  desperate  thing, 
And  cleared  the  five-barred  syllables  at  a  spring. 

Ah,  dear  old  times  !  there  once  it  was  my  hap. 
Perched  on  a  stool,  to  wear  the  long-eared  cap ; 
From  books  degraded,  there  I  sat  at  ease, 
A  drone,  the  envy  of  compulsory  bees  ; 


24  INTR  on  UCTION. 

Rewards  of  merit,  too,  full  many  a  time. 

Each  with  its  woodcut  and  its  moral  rhyme, 

And  pierced  half-dollars  hung  on  ribbons  gay 

About  my  neck — to  be  restored  next  day, 

I  carried  home,  rewards  as  shining  then 

As  those  which  deck  the  lifelong  pains  of  men, 

More  solid  than  the  redemanded  praise 

With  which  the  world  beribbons  later  days. 

Ah,  dear  old  times  !  how  brightly  ye  return  ! 

How,  rubbed  afresh,  your  phosphor  traces  burn  ! 

The  ramble  schoolward  through  dew-sparkling  meads  ; 

The  willow-wands  turned  Cinderella  steeds ; 

The  impromptu  pinbent  hook,  the  deep  remorse 

O'er  the  chance  captured  minnow's  inchlong  corse ; 

The  pockets,  plethoric  with  marbles  round, 

That  still  a  space  for  ball  and  pegtop  found. 

Nor  satiate  yet  could  manage  to  confine 

Horse-chestnuts,  flagroot,  and  the  kite's  wound  twine, 

And,  like  the  prophet's  carpet  could  take  in. 

Enlarging  still,  the  popgun's  magazine  ; 

The  dinner  carried  in  the  small  tin  pail, 

Shared  with  the  dog,  whose  most  beseeching  tail 

And  dripping  tongue  and  eager  ears  belied 

The  assumed  indifference  of  canine  pride  ; 

The  caper  homeward,  shortened  if  the  cart 

Of  neighbour  Pomeroy,  trundling  from  the  mart, 

O'ertook  me, — then,  translated  to  the  seat, 

I  praised  the  steed,  how  staunch  he  was  and  fleet. 

While  the  bluff  farmer,  with  superior  grin. 

Explained  where  horses  should  be  thick,  where  thin, 

And  warned  me  (joke  he  always  had  in  store) 

To  shun  a  beast  that  four  white  stockings  wore. 

What  a  fine  natural  courtesy  was  his  ! 

His  nod  was  pleasure,  and  his  full  bow  bliss  ; 

How  did  his  well-thumbed  hat,  with  ardour  rapt. 

Its  decorous  curve  to  every  rank  adapt ! 

How  did  it  graduate  with  a  courtly  ease 

The  whole  long  scale  of  social  differences. 

Yet  so  gave  each  his  measure  running  o'er. 

None  thought  his  own  was  less,  his  neighbour's  more ; 


INTRODUCTION,  25 

The  squire  was  flattered,  and  the  pauper  knew 

Old  times  acknowledged  'neath  the  threadbare  blue  J 

Dropped  at  the  corner  of  the  embowered  lane, 

Whistling  I  wade  the  knee-deep  leaves  again, 

While  eager  Argus,  who  has  missed  all  day 

The  sharer  of  his  condescending  play, 

Comes  leaping  onward  with  a  bark  elate 

And  boisterous  tail  to  greet  me  at  the  gate ; 

That  I  was  true  in  absence  to  our  love 

Let  the  thick  dog's-ears  in  my  primer  prove." 

I  add  only  one  further  extract,  which  will  possess  a  melan- 
choly interest  to  all  such  as  have  endeavoured  to  glean  the 
materials  of  revolutionary  history  from  the  lips  of  aged 
persons,  who  took  a  part  in  the  actual  making  of  it,  and, 
finding  the  manufacture  profitable,  continued  the  supply 
in  an  adequate  proportion  to  the  demand. 

"  Old  Joe  is  gone,  who  saw  hot  Percy  goad 
His  slow  artillery  up  the  Concord  road, 
A  tale  which  grew  in  wonder,  year  by  year, 
As,  every  time  he  told  it,  Joe  drew  near 
To  the  main  fight,  till,  faded  and  grown  grey. 
The  original  scene  to  bolder  tints  gave  way ; 
Then  Joe  had  heard  the  foe's  scared  double-quick 
Beat  on  stove  drum  with  one  uncaptured  stick. 
And,  ere  Death  came  the  lengthening  tale  to  lop, 
Himself  had  fired,  and  seen  a  red-coat  drop ; 
Had  Joe  lived  long  enough,  that  scrambling  fight 
Had  squared  more  nearly  with  his  sense  of  right, 
And  vanquish'd  Percy,  to  complete  the  tale. 
Had  hammer'd  stone  for  life  in  Concord  gaol." 

I  do  not  know  that  the  foregoing  extracts  ought  not  to 
be  called  my  own  rather  than  Mr.  Biglow's,  as,  indeed,  he 
maintained  stoutly  that  my  file  had  left  nothing  of  his  in 
them.     I  should  not,  perhaps,  have  felt  entitled  to  take  so 


26  INTRODUCTION. 

great  liberties  with  them,  had  I  not  more  than 
suspected  an  hereditary  vein  of  poetry  in  myself,  a 
very  near  ancestor  having  written  a  Latin  poem  in  the 
Harvard  Gratulaiio  on  the  accession  of  George  the  Third. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that,  whether  not  satisfied  with  such  limited 
approbation  as  I  could  conscientiously  bestow,  or  from  a 
sense  of  natural  inaptitude,  certain  it  is  that  my  young 
friend  could  never  be  induced  to  any  further  essays  in  this 
kind.  He  affirmed  that  it  was  to  him  like  writing  in  a 
foreign  tongue, — that  Mr.  Pope's  versification  was  like  the 
regular  ticking  of  one  of  Willard's  clocks,  in  which  one 
could  fancy,  after  long  listening,  a  certain  kind  of  rhythn:\ 
or  tune,  but  which  yet  was  only  a  poverty-stricken  tick,  tick, 
after  all, — and  that  he  had  never  seen  a  sweet-water  on  a 
trellis  growing  so  fairly,  or  in  forms  so  pleasing  to  his  eye, 
as  a  fox-grape  over  a  scrub-oak  in  a  swamp.  He  added  I 
know  not  what,  to  the  effect  that  the  sweet-water  would  only 
be  the  more  disfigured  by  having  its  leaves  starched  and 
ironed  out,  and  that  Pegasus  (so  he  called  him)  hardly 
looked  right  with  his  mane  and  tail  in  curl-papers.  These 
and  other  such  opinions  I  did  not  long  strive  to  eradicate, 
attributing  them  rather  to  a  defective  education  and  senses 
untuned  by  too  long  familiarity  with  purely  natural  objects, 
than  to  a  perverted  moral  sense.  I  was  the  more  inclined 
to  this  leniency  since  sufficient  evidence  was  not  to  seek, 
that  his  verses,  as  wanting  as  they  certainly  were  in  classic 
polish  and  point,  had  somehow  taken  hold  of  the  public 
ear  in  a  surprising  manner.  So,  only  setting  him  right  as 
to  the  quantity  of  the  proper  name  Pegasus,  I  left  him  to 
follow  the  bent  of  his  natural  genius. 

Yet  could  I  not  surrender  him  wholly  to  the  tutelage  of 
the  pagan  (which,  literally  interpreted,  signified  village) 
muse  without  yet  a  further  effort  for  his  conversion,  and  to 


INTR  OD  UCTION.  2  7 

this  end  I  resolved  that  whatever  of  poetic  fire  yet  burned 
in  myself,  aided  by  the  assiduous  bellows  of  correct  models, 
should  be  put  in  requisition.  Accordingly,  when  my  in- 
genious young  parishioner  brought  to  my  study  a  copy  of 
verses  which  he-  had  written  touching  the  acquisition  of 
territory  resulting  from  the  Mexican  war,  and  the  folly  of 
leaving  the  question  of  slavery  or  freedom  to  the  adjudica- 
tion of  chance,  I  did  myself  indite  a  short  fable  or  apologue 
after  the  manner  of  Gay  and  Prior,  to  the  end  that  he  might 
see  how  easily  even  such  subjects  as  he  treated  of  were 
capable  of  a  more  refined  style  and  more  elegant  expression. 
Mr.  Biglow's  production  was  as  follows  : — 

THE  TWO  GUNNERS. 

A   FABLE. 

Two  fellers,  Isrel  named  and  Joe, 
One  Sundy  mornin'  'greed  to  go 
Agunnin'  scon's  the  bells  wuz  done 
And  meetin'  finally  begun, 
So'st  no  one  wouldn't  be  about 
Ther  Sabbath-breakin'  to  spy  out. 

Joe  didn't  want  to  go  a  mite ; 

He  felt  ez  though  'twarnt  skeercely  right. 

But,  when  his  doubts  he  went  to  speak  on, 

Isrel  he  up  and  called  him  Deacon, 

An'  kep'  apokin'  fun  like  sin. 

An'  then  arubbin'  on  it  in, 

Till  Joe,  less  skeered  o'  doin'  wrong 

Than  bein'  laughed  at,  went  along. 

Past  noontime  they  went  trampin'  round 

An'  nary  thing  to  pop  at  found, 

Till,  fairly  tired  o'  their  spree, 

They  leaned  their  guns  agin  a  tree, 

An'  jest  ez  they  wuz  settin'  down 

To  take  their  noonin',  Joe  looked  roun' 


«8  INTRODUCTION. 

And  see  (across  lots  in  a  pond 

That  warn't  more'n  twenty  rod  beyond) 

A  goose  that  on  the  water  sot 

Ez  ef  awaitin'  to  be  shot. 

Isrel  he  ups  and  grabs  his  gun ; 

Sez  he,  "  By  ginger,  here's  some  fun ! " 

"  Don't  fire,"  sez  Joe,  "  it  aint  no  use, 

That's  Deacon  Peleg's  tame  wild-goose;" 

Sez  Isrel,  *'  I  don't  care  a  cent, 

I've  sighted  an'  I'll  let  her  went ; " 

Bang!  went  queen's-arm,  ole  gander  flopped 

His  wings  a  spell,  an'  quorked,  an'  dropped. 

Sez  Joe,  '•  I  wouldn't  ha'  been  hired 
At  that  poor  critter  to  ha'  fired. 
But,  sence  it's  clean  gin  up  the  ghost, 
We'll  hev  the  tallest  kind  o'  roast ; 
I  guess  our  waistbands  '11  be  tight 
'Fore  it  comes  ten  o'clock  temight." 

"  I  won't  agree  to  no  such  bender," 
Sez  Isrel;  "  keep  it  till  it's  tender; 
'Taint  wuth  a  snap  afore  it's  ripe." 
Sez  Joe,  "  I'd  jest  ez  lives  eat  tripe; 
You  air  a  buster  ter  suppose 
I'd  eat  what  makes  me  hole  my  nosel" 

So  they  disputed  to  an'  firo 
Till  cunnin'  Isrel  sez  to  Joe, 
"  Don't  less  stay  here  an'  play  the  fool, 
Less  wait  till  both  on  us  git  cool; 
Jest  for  a  day  or  two  less  hide  it, 
An'  then  toss  up  and  so  decide  it." 
"  Agreed !"  sez  Joe,  an'  so  they  did. 
An'  the  ole  goose  wuz  safely  hid. 

Now  'twuz  the  hottest  kind  o'  weather. 
An'  when  at  last  they  come  together, 
It  didn't  signify  which  won, 
Fer  all  the  mischief  hed  ben  done  j 


INTR  on  UCTION.  29 

The  goose  wuz  there,  but,  fer  his  soul, 
Joe  wouldn't  ha'  tetched  it  with  a  pole ; 
But  Isrel  kind  o'  liked  the  smell  on't. 
An'  made  his  dinner  very  well  on't. 

My  own  humble  attempt  was  in  manner  and  form  follow- 
ing, and  I  print  it  here,  I  sincerely  trust,  out  of  no  vain- 
glory, but  solely  with  the  hope  of  doing  good. 

LEAVING  THE  MATTER  OPEN. 


By  Homer  Wilbur,  A.M. 

Two  brothers  once,  an  ill-nutched  pair, 

Together  dwelt  (no  matter  where). 

To  whom  an  Uncle  Sam,  or  some  one, 

Had  left  a  house  and  farm  in  common : 

The  two  in  principles  and  habifs 

Were  different  as  rats  from  rabbits ; 

Stout  Farmer  North,  with  frugal  care, 

Laid  up  provision  for  his  heir, 

Not  scorning  with  hard  sun-browned  hands 

To  scrape  acquaintance  with  his  lands ; 

Whatever  thing  he  had  to  do 

He  did,  and  made  it  pay  him,  too ; 

He  sold  his  waste  stone  by  the  pound. 

His  drains  made  water-wheels  spin  round, 

His  ice  in  summer  time  he  sold, 

His  wood  brought  profit  when  'twas  cold, 

He  dug  and  delved  from  mom  till  night, 

Strove  to  make  profit  square  with  right. 

Lived  on  his  means,  cut  no  great  dash. 

And  paid  his  debts  in  honest  cash. 

On  tother  hand,  his  brother  South 
Lived  very  much  from  hand  to  mouth. 
Played  gentleman,  nursed  dainty  hands, 
Borrowed  North's  money  on  his  lands. 


30  INTRODUCTION. 

And  culled  his  morals  and  his  graces 

From  cock-pits,  bar-rooms,  fights,  and  races. 

His  sole  work  in  the  farming  line 

Was  keeping  droves  of  long-legged  swine, 

Which  brought  great  bothers  and  expenses 

To  North,  in  looking  after  fences ; 

And,  when  they  happened  to  break  through, 

Cost  him  both  time  and  temper  too ; 

For  South  insisted  it  was  plain 

He  ought  to  drive  them  home  again, 

And  North  consented  to  the  work 

Because  he  loved  to  buy  cheap  pork. 

Meanwhile,  South's  swine  increasing  fast, 
His  farm  became  too  small  at  last, 
So,  having  thought  the  matter  over, 
And  feeling  bound  to  live  in  clover. 
And  never  pay  the  clover's  worth, 
He  said  one  day  to  brother  North : — 

"  Our  families  are  both  increasing, 
And,  though  we  labour  without  ceasing, 
Our  produce  soon  will  be  too  scant 
To  keep  our  children  out  of  want ; 
They  who  wish  fortune  to  be  lasting 
Must  be  both  prudent  and  forecasting ; 
We  soon  shall  need  more  land ;  a  lot 
I  know,  that  cheaply  can  be  bo't ; 
You  lend  the  cash,  I'll  buy  the  acres, 
And  we'll  be  equally  partakers." 

Poor  North,  whose  Anglo-Saxon  blood 
Gave  him  a  hankering  after  mud. 
Wavered  a  moment,  then  consented, 
And,  when  the  cash  was  paid,  repented ; 
To  make  the  new  land  worth  a  pin. 
Thought  he,  it  must  be  all  fenced  in. 
For,  if  South's  swine  once  get  the  nm  on't 
No  kind  of  farming  can  be  done  on't ; 
If  that  don't  suit  the  other  side, 
Tis  best  we  instantly  divide. 


INTRODUCTION.  31 

But  somehow  South  could  ne'er  incline 
This  way  or  that  to  run  the  line, 
And  always  found  some  new  pretence 
'Gainst  setting  the  division  fence ; 
At  last  he  said  : — 

"  For  peace's  sake, 
Liberal  concessions  I  will  make  ; 
Though  I  believe,  upon  my  soul, 
I've  a  just  title  to  the  whole. 
I'll  make  an  offer  which  I  call 
Gen'rous, — we'll  have  no  fence  at  all ; 
Then  both  of  us,  whene'er  we  choose, 
Can  take  what  part  we  want  to  use  ; 
If  you  should  chance  to  need  it  first. 
Pick  you  the  best,  I'll  take  the  worst." 

"  Agreed  I "  cried  North  ;  thought  he,  this  fall 

With  wheat  and  rye  I'll  sow  it  all, 

In  that  way  I  shall  get  the  start. 

And  South  may  whistle  for  his  part ; 

So  thought,  so  done  ;  the  field  was  sown, 

And,  winter  having  come  and  gone. 

Sly  North  walked  blithely  forth  to  spy 

The  progress  of  his  wheat  and  rye ; 

Heavens,  what  a  sight !  his  brother's  swine 

Had  asked  themselves  all  out  to  dine  ; 

Such  grunting,  munching,  rooting,  shoving. 

The  soil  seemed  all  alive  and  moving, 

As  for  his  grain,  such  work  they  made  on't, 

He  couldn't  spy  a  single  blade  on't. 

Off  in  a  rage  he  rushed  to  South, 

"  My  wheat  and  rye  " — grief  choked  his  mouth  ; 

"  Pray  don't  mind  me,"  said  South ;  "  but  plant 

All  of  the  new  land  that  you  want ; " 

"Yes,  but  your  hogs,"  cried  North. 

"  The  grain 
Won't  hurt  them,"  answered  South  again  ; 
"  But  they  destroy  my  jfjrain ; " 


3  2  INTROD  UCTION. 

"No  doubt; 
'Tis  fortunate  you've  found  it  out ; 
Misfortunes  teach,  and  only  they, 
You  must  not  sow  it  in  their  way ; " 
"  Nay,  you,"  says  North,  "  must  keep  them  out :  " 
"Did  I  create  them  with  a  snout?" 
Asked  South  demurely ;  "as  agreed, 
The  land  is  open  to  your  seed. 
And  would  you  fain  prevent  my  pigs 
From  running  there  their  harmless  rigs? 
God  knows  I  view  this  compromise 
With  not  the  most  approving  eyes ; 
I  gave  up  my  unquestioned  rights 
For  sake  of  quiet  days  and  nights, 
I  offered  then,  you  know  'tis  true, 
To  cut  the  piece  of  land  in  two." 
"  Then  cut  it  now,"  growls  North. 

"  Abate 
Your  heat,"  says  South,  "  'tis  now  too  late  ; 
I  offered  you  the  rocky  comer, 
But  you,  of  your  own  good  the  scomer, 
Refused  to  take  it ;  I  am  sorry ; 
No  doubt  you  might  have  found  a  quarry, 
Perhaps  a  gold-mine,  for  aught  I  know, 
Containing  heaps  of  native  rhino  ; 
You  can't  expect  me  to  resign 
My  right '* 

" But  where,"  quoth  North,  "are  mine?" 
"  Your  rights,"  says  tother,  "  well,  that's  funny, 
/bought  the  land " 

"  /  paid  the  money ; " 
"That,"  answered  South,  "is  from  the  point, 
The  ownership,  you'll  grant,  is  joint. 
I'm  sure  my  only  hope  and  trust  is 
Not  law  so  much  as  abstract  justice, 
Though,  you  remember,  'twas  agreed 
That  so  and  so — consult  the  deed ; 


INTRODUCTION.  33 

Objections  now  are  out  of  date, 

They  might  have  answered  once,  but  Fate 

Quashes  them  at  the  point  we've  got  to  ; 

Obsta  principiis,  that's  my  motto." 

So  saying,  South  began  to  whistle 

And  looked  as  obstinate  as  gristle, 

While  North  went  homeward,  each  brown  paw 

Clenched  like  a  knot  of  natural  law, 

And  all  the  while,  in  either  ear. 

Heard  something  clicking  wondrous  clear. 

To  turn  now  to  other  matters,  there  are  two  things  upon 
which  it  would  seem  fitting  to  dilate  somewhat  more  largely 
in  this  place, — the  Yankee  character  and  the  Yankee 
dialect.  And,  first,  of  the  Yankee  character,  which  has 
wanted  neither  open  maligners,  nor  even  more  dangerous 
enemies  in  the  persons  of  those  unskilful  painters  who  have 
given  to  it  that  hardness,  angularity,  and  want  of  proper 
perspective,  which,  in  truth,  belonged,  not  to  their  subject, 
but  to  their  own  niggard  and  unskilful  pencil. 

New  England  was  not  so  much  the  colony  of  a  mother 
country  as  a  Hagar  driven  forth  into  the  wilderness.  The 
little  self-exiled  band  which  came  hither  in  1620  came,  not 
to  seek  gold,  but  to  found  a  democracy.  They  came  that 
they  might  have  the  privilege  to  work  and  pray,  to  sit  upon 
hard  benches  and  listen  to  painful  preachers  as  long  as  they 
would,  yea,  even  unto  thirty-seventhly,  if  the  spirit  so  willed 
it.  And  surely  if  the  Greek  might  boast  his  Thermopylae, 
where  three  hundred  men  fell  in  resisting  the  Persian,  we 
may  well  be  proud  of  our  Plymouth  Rock,  where  a  handful 
of  men,  women,  and  children  not  merely  faced  but  van- 
quished winter,  famine,  the  wilderness,  and  the  yet  more 
invincible  storge  that  drew  them  back  to  the  green  island 
far  away.  These  found  no  lotus  growing  upon  the  surly 
shore,  the  taste  of  which  could  make  them   forget  their 

3 


34  INTRODUCTION. 

little  native  Ithaca;  nor  were  they  so  wanting  to  themselves 
in  faith  as  to  burn  their  ship,  but  could  see  the  fair  west 
wind  belly  the  homeward  sail,  and  then  turn  unrepining  to 
grapple  with  the  terrible  Unknown. 

As  Want  was  the  prime  foe  these  hardy  exodists  had  to 
fortress  themselves  against,  so  it  is  little  wonder  if  that 
traditional  feud  is  long  in  wearing  out  of  the  stock.  The 
wounds  of  the  old  warfare  were  long  ahealing,  and  an  east 
wind  of  hard  times  puts  a  new  ache  in  every  one  of  them. 
Thrift  was  the  first  lesson  in  their  horn-book,  pointed  out, 
letter  after  letter,  by  the  lean  finger  of  the  hard  school- 
master. Necessity.  Neither  were  those  plump,  rosy-gilled 
Englishmen  that  came  hither,  but  a  hard-faced,  atrabilious, 
earnest-eyed  race,  stiflf  from  long  wrestling  with  the  Lord  in 
prayer,  and  who  had  taught  Satan  to  dread  the  new  Puritan 
hug.  Add  two  hundred  years'  influence  of  soil,  climate, 
and  exposure,  with  its  necessary  result  of  idiosyncrasies, 
and  we  have  the  present  Yankee,  full  of  expedients,  half- 
master  of  all  trades,  inventive  in  all  but  the  beautiful,  full 
of  shifts,  not  yet  capable  of  comfort,  armed  at  all  points 
against  the  old  enemy  Hunger,  longanimous,  good  at  patch- 
ing, not  so  careful  for  what  is  best  as  for  what  will  do,  with 
a  clasp  to  his  purse  and  a  button  to  his  pocket,  not  skilled 
to  build  against  Time,  as  in  old  countries,  but  against  sore- 
pressing  Need,  accustomed  to  move  the  world  with  no  t^ov 
OTO)  but  his  own  two  feet,  and  no  lever  but  his  own  long 
forecast  A  strange  hybrid,  indeed,  did  circumstance  beget, 
here  in  the  New  World,  upon  the  old  Puritan  stock,  and 
the  earth  never  before  saw  such  mystic-practicalism,  such 
niggard-geniality,  such  calculating-fanaticism,  such  cast-iron- 
enthusiasm,  such  sour-faced-humour,  such  close-fisted- 
generosity.  This  new  Grceculus  esuriens  will  make  a  living 
out  of  anything.     He  will  invent   new  trades  as  well  as 


INTRODUCTION.  35 

tools.  His  brain  is  his  capital,  and  he  will  get  education 
at  all  risks.  Put  him  on  Juan  Fernandez,  and  he  would 
make  a  spelling-book  first,  and  a  salt-pan  afterward.  In 
ccelum  jusseris,  ibit, — or  the  other  way  either, — it  is  all  one, 
so  anything  is  to  be  got  by  it.  Yet,  after  all,  thin,  specula- 
tive Jonathan  is  more  like  the  Englishman  of  two  centuries 
ago  than  John  Bull  himself  is.  He  has  lost  somewhat  in 
solidity,  has  become  fluent  and  adaptable,  but  more  of  the 
original  groundwork  of  character  remains.  He  feels  more 
at  home  with  Fulke  Greville,  Herbert  of  Cherbury,  Quarles, 
George  Herbert,  and  Browne,  than  with  his  modern  Eng- 
lish cousins.  He  is  nearer  than  John,  by  at  least  a 
hundred  years,  to  Naseby,  Marston  Moor,  Worcester,  and 
the  time  when,  if  ever,  there  were  true  Englishmen.  John 
Bull  has  suffered  the  idea  of  the  Invisible  to  be  very  much 
fattened  out  of  him.  Jonathan  is  conscious  still  that  he 
lives  in  the  world  of  the  Unseen  as  well  as  of  the  Seen. 
To  move  John  you  must  make  your  fulcrum  of  solid  beef 
and  pudding ;  an  abstract  idea  will  do  for  Jonathan. 


*»*  TO  THE  INDULGENT  READER. 

My  friend,  the  Reverend  Mr.  Wilbur,  having  been  seized  with  a 
dangerous  fit  of  illness  before  this  introduction  had  passed  through  the 
press,  and  being  incapacitated  for  all  literary  exertion,  sent  to  me  his 
notes,  memoranda,  etc.,  and  requested  me  to  fashion  them  into  some 
shape  more  fitting  for  the  general  eye.  This,  owing  to  the  fragmentary 
and  disjointed  state  of  his  manuscripts,  I  have  felt  wholly  unable  to 
do  ;  yet  being  unwilling  that  the  reader  should  be  deprived  of  such  parts 
of  his  lucubrations  as  seemed  more  finished,  and  not  well  discerning 
how  to  segregate  these  from  the  rest,  I  have  concluded  to  send  them 
all  to  the  press  precisely  as  they  are. 

CoLUMBijs  Nye, 

Pastor  of  a  Church  in  Bungtotvn  Comer. 


36  INTRODUCTION. 

It  remains  to  speak  of  the  Yankee  dialect.  And,  first, 
it  may  be  premised,  in  a  general  way,  that  any  one  much 
read  in  the  writings  of  the  early  colonists  need  not  be  told 
that  the  far  greater  share  of  the  words  and  phrases  now 
esteemed  peculiar  to  New  England,  and  local  there,  were 
brought  from  the  mother  country.  A  person  familiar  with 
the  dialect  of  certain  portions  of  Massachusetts  will  not 
fail  to  recognise,  in  ordinary  discourse,  many  words  now 
noted  in  English  vocabularies  as  archaic,  the  greater  part  of 
which  were  in  common  use  about  the  time  of  the  King 
James  translation  of  the  Bible.  Shakespeare  stands  less  in 
need  of  a  glossary  to  most  New  Englanders  than  to  many 
a  native  of  the  Old  Country.  The  peculiarities  of  our 
speech,  however,  are  rapidly  wearing  out.  As  there  is  no 
country  where  reading  is  so  universal  and  newspapers  are 
so  multitudinous,  so  no  phrase  remains  long  local,  but  is 
transplanted  in  the  mail-bags  to  every  remotest  corner  of 
the  land.  Consequently  our  dialect  approaches  nearer  to 
uniformity  than  that  of  any  other  nation. 

The  English  have  complained  of  us  for  coining  new 
words.  Many  of  those  so  stigmatised  were  old  ones  by 
them  forgotten,  and  all  make  now  an  unquestioned  part  of 
the  currency,  wherever  English  is  spoken.  Undoubtedly 
we  have  a  right  to  make  new  words,  as  they  are  needed  by 
the  fresh  aspects  under  which  life  presents  itself  here  in 
the  New  World ;  and,  indeed,  wherever  a  language  is  alive 
it  grows.  It  might  be  questioned  whether  we  could  not 
establish  a  stronger  title  to  the  ownership  of  the  English 
tongue  than  the  mother-islanders  themselves.  Here,  past 
all  question,  is  to  be  its  great  home  and  centre.  And  not 
only  is  it  already  spoken  here  by  greater  numbers,  but  with 
a  far  higher  popular  average  of  correctness  than  in  Britain. 
The  great  writers  of  it,  too,  we  might  claim  as  ours,  were 


INTR  OD  UCTION.  37 

ownership  to  be  settled  by  the  number  of  readers  and 
lovers. 

As  regards  the  provincialisms  to  be  met  with  in  this 
volume,  I  may  say  that  the  reader  will  not  find  one  which 
is  not  (as  I  believe)  either  native  or  imported  with  the  early 
settlers,  nor  one  which  I  have  not,  with  my  own  ears,  heard 
in  familiar  use.  In  the  metrical  portion  of  the  book  I 
have  endeavoured  to  adapt  the  spelling  as  nearly  as  possible 
to  the  ordinary  mode  of  pronunciation.  Let  the  reader 
who  deems  me  over-particular  remember  this  caution  of 
Martial : — 

"  Qium  reciioi,  meus  est,  O  Fidentine,  Ubellus; 
Sed  male  cum  recitas,  incipit  esse  iuus," 

A  few  further  explanatory  remarks  will  not  be  impertinent. 
I  shall   barely   lay   down   a   few   general  rules   for   the 
reader's  guidance. 

1.  The  genuine  Yankee  never  gives  the  rough  sound  to 
the  r  when  he  can  help  it,  and  often  displays  considerable 
ingenuity  in  avoiding  it  even  before  a  vowel. 

2.  He  seldom  sounds  the  final  g,  a  piece  of  self-denial,  if 
we  consider  his  partiality  for  nasals.  The  same  of  the  final 
d,  as  han^  and  stan^  for  hand  and  stand. 

3.  The  h  in  such  words  as  while,  when,  where,  he  omits 
altogether. 

4.  In  regard  to  a,  he  shows  some  inconsistency,  sometimes 
giving  a  close  and  obscure  sound,  as  hev  for  have,  hendy  for 
handy,  ez  for  as,  thet  for  that,  and  again  giving  it  the  broad 
sound  it  has  in  father,  as  hdnsome  for  handsome. 

5.  To  the  sound  ou  he  prefixes  an  e  (hard  to  exemplify 
otherwise  than  orally). 

The  following  passage  in  Shakespeare  he  would  recite 
thus : — 


38  INTR  OD  UCTION. 

"  Neow  is  the  winta  uv  eour  discontent 
Med  glorious  summa  by  this  sun  o'  Yock, 
An'  all  the  cleouds  thet  leowered  upun  eour  heouse 
In  the  deep  buzzum  o'  the  oshin  buried ; 
Neow  air  eour  breows  beound  'ith  victorious  wreaths ; 
Eour  breused  arms  hung  up  fer  monimunce ; 
Eour  stam  alarums  changed  to  merry  meetins, 
Eour  dreffle  marches  to  delightful  measures. 
Grim-visaged  war  heth  smeuthed  his  wrinkled  front, 
An'  neow,  instid  o'  mountin'  barebid  steeds 
To  fright  the  souls  o'  ferfle  edverseries, 
He  capers  nimly  in  a  lady's  chamber, 
To  the  lascivious  pleasin'  uv  a  loot." 

6.  Au^  in  such  words  as  daughter  and  slaughter^  he  pro- 
nounces ah. 

7.  To  the  dish  thus  seasoned  add  a  drawl  ad  libitum. 

[Mr.  Wilbur's  notes  here  become  entirely  fragmentary. — C.  1^.] 

tt.  Unable  to  procure  a  likeness  of  Mr.  Biglow,  I  thought 
the  curious  reader  might  be  gratified  with  a  sight  of  the 
editorial  effigies.  And  here  a  choice  between  two  was 
offered — the  one  a  profile  (entirely  black)  cut  by  Doyle,  the 
other  a  portrait  painted  by  a  native  artist  of  much  promise. 
The  first  of  these  seemed  wanting  in  expression,  and  in 
the  second  a  slight  obliquity  of  the  visual  organs  has  been 
heightened  (perhaps  from  an  over-desire  of  force  on  the 
part  of  the  artist)  into  too  close  an  approach  to  actual 
strabismus.  This  slight  divergence  in  my  optical  apparatus 
from  the  ordinary  model — however  I  may  have  been  taught 
to  regard  it  in  the  light  of  a  mercy  rather  than  a  cross, 
since  it  enabled  me  to  give  as  much  of  directness  and 
personal  application  to  my  discourses  as  met  the  wants  of 
my  congregation,  without  risk  of  offending  any  by  being 
supposed  to  have  him  or  her  in  my  eye  (as  the  saying  is) — 


INTRODUCTION.  39 

seemed  yet  to  Mrs.  Wilbur  a  sufficient  objection  to  the 
engraving  of  the  aforesaid  painting.  We  read  of  many 
who  either  absolutely  refused  to  allow  the  copying  of  their 
features,  as  especially  did  Plotinus  and  Agesilaus  among  the 
ancients,  not  to  mention  the  more  modern  instances  of 
Scioppius,  Palseottus,  Pinellus,  Velserus,  Gataker,  and 
others,  or  were  indifferent  thereto,  as  Cromwell. 


y8.  Yet  was  Caesar  desirous  of  concealing  his  baldness. 
Per  contra,  my  Lord  Protector's  carefulness  in  the  matter 
of  his  wart  might  be  cited.  Men  generally  more  desirous 
of  being  improved  in  their  portraits  than  characters.  Shall 
probably  find  very  unflattered  likenesses  of  ourselves  in 
Recording  Angel's  gallery. 


y.  Whether  any  of  our  national  peculiarities  may  be 
traced  to  our  use  of  stoves,  as  a  certain  closeness  of  the  lips 
in  pronunciation,  and  a  smothered  smoulderingness  of 
disposition,  seldom  roused  to  open  flame?  An  unre- 
strained intercourse  with  fire  probably  conducive  to 
generosity  and  hospitality  of  soul.  Ancient  Mexicans 
used  stoves,  as  the  friar  Augustin  Ruiz  reports,  Hakluyt, 
III.,  468, — but  Popish  priests  not  always  reliable  authority. 

To-day  picked  my  Isabella  grapes.  Crop  injured  by 
attacks  of  rose-bug  in  the  spring.  Whether  Noah  was 
justifiable  in  preserving  this  class  of  insects  ? 


S.  Concerning  Mr.  Biglow's  pedigree.  Tolerably  certain 
that  there  was  never  a  poet  among  his  ancestors.  An  ordi- 
nation hymn  attributed  to  a  maternal  uncle,  but  perhaps 
a  sort  of  production  not  demanding  the  creative  faculty. 


40  INTRODUCTION. 

His  grandfather  a  painter  of  the  grandiose  or  Michael 
Angelo  school  Seldom  painted  objects  smaller  than 
houses  or  barns,  and  these  with  uncommon  expression. 


c.  Of  the  Wilburs  no  complete  pedigree.  The  crest  said 
to  be  a  wild  boar,  whence,  perhaps,  the  name  (?).  A 
connection  with  the  Earls  of  Wilbraham  {quasi  wild  boar 
ham)  might  be  made  out.     This  suggestion  worth  following 

up.     In  1677,  John  W,  m.  Expect ^  had  issue,  i.  John, 

2.  Haggai,  3.  Expect,  4.  Ruhamah,  5.  Desire. 

"  Hear  lyes  ye  bodye  of  Mrs.  Expect  Wilber, 
Ye  crewell  salvages  they  kil'd  her 
Together  wt^  other  Christian  soles  eleaven, 
October  y«  ix  daye,  1707. 

Ye  stream  of  Jordan  sh'  as  crost  ore 
And  now  expeacts  me  on  ye  other  shore  : 
I  live  in  hope  her  soon  to  join ; 
Her  earthlye  yeeres  were  forty  and  nine." 

— From  Gravestone  in  Pekusseii,  North  parish. 

This  is  unquestionably  the  same  John  who  afterward 
(1711)  married  Tabitha  Hagg  or  Ragg. 

But  if  this  were  the  case,  she  seems  to  have  died  early ; 
for  only  three  years  after,  namely,  17 14,  we  have  evidence 
that  he  married  Winifred,  daughter  of  Lieutenant  Tipping. 

He  seems  to  have  been  a  man  of  substance,  for  we  find 
him  in  1696  conveying  "one  undivided  eightieth  part  of  a 
salt-meadow  "  in  Yabbok,  and  he  commanded  a  sloop  in 
1702. 

Those  who  doubt  the  importance  of  genealogical  studies 
fuste  potius  quam  argumento  erudiendL 

I  trace  him  as  far  as  1723,  and  there  lose  him.  In  that 
year  he  was  chosen  selectman. 


INTR  on  UCTION.  4 1 

No  gravestone.  Perhaps  overthrown  when  new  hearse- 
house  was  built,  1802. 

He  was  probably  the  son  of  John,  who  came  from 
Bilham  Comit.  Salop,  circa  1642. 

This  first  John  was  a  man  of  considerable  importance, 
being  twice  mentioned  with  the  honourable  prefix  of  Mr. 
in  the  town  records.     Name  spelt  with  two  /-s. 

"  Hear  lyeth  ye  bod  \stone  unhappily  broken.'\ 
Mr.  Ihon  Willber  [Esq.]    [Unclose  this  in  brackets  as  doubtful. 
To  me  it  seems  clear.  ] 

Ob't  die  [illegible;  looks  like  xviii.] iii  [prob.  1693.] 

paynt 

deseased  seinte : 
A  friend  and  [fath]er  untoe  all  ye  opreast, 
Hee  gave  ye  wicked  familists  noe  reast, 
When  Sat[an  bljewe  his  Antinomian  blaste, 
Wee  clong  to  [Willber  as  a  steadfjast  maste. 
[AJgaynst  ye  horrid  Qua[kers] " 

It  is  greatly  to  be  lamented  that  this  curious  epitaph  is 
mutilated.  It  is  said  that  the  sacrilegious  British  soldiers 
made  a  target  of  this  stone  during  the  war  of  Independence. 
How  odious  an  animosity  which  pauses  not  at  the  grave! 
How  brutal  that  which  spares  not  the  monuments  of 
authentic  history !  This  is  not  improbably  from  the  pen  of 
Rev.  Moody  Pyram,  who  is  mentioned  by  Hubbard  as 
having  been  noted  for  a  silver  vein  of  poetry.  If  his 
papers  be  still  extant,  a  copy  might  possibly  be  recovered. 


THE   BIGLOW    PAPERS. 


No.  I. 
A   LETTER 


FROM  MR.  EZEKIEL  BIGLOW  OF  JAALAM  TO  THE  HON. 
JOSEPH  T.  BUCKINGHAM,  EDITOR  OF  THE  "  BOSTON 
COURIER,"  INCLOSING  A  POEM  OF  HIS  SON,  MR.  HOSEA 
BIGLOW. 

Jaylem,  June  1846. 

Mister  Eddyter  : — Our  Hosea  wuz  down  to  Boston 
last  week,  and  he  see  a  cruetin  Sarjunt  a  struttin  round  as 
popler  as  a  hen  with  i  chicking,  with  2  fellers  a  drummin 
and  fifin  arter  him  like  all  nater.  the  sarjunt  he  thout 
Hosea  hedn't  gut  his  i  teeth  cut  cos  he  looked  a  kindo's 
though  he'd  jest  com  down,  so  he  cal'lated  to  hook  him  in, 
but  Hosy  woodn't  take  none  o'  his  sarse  for  all  he  hed 
much  as  20  Rooster's  tales  stuck  onto  his  hat  and  eenamost 
enuf  brass  a  bobbin  up  and  down  on  his  shoulders  and 
figureed  onto  his  coat  and  trousis,  let  alone  wut  nater  hed 
sot  in  his  featers,  to  make  a  6  pounder  out  on. 

wal,  Hosea  he  com  home  considerabal  riled,  and  arter 
I'd  gone  to  bed  I  heern  Him  a  thrashin  round  like  a  short- 
tailed  Bull  in  fli-time.  The  old  Woman  ses  she  to  me  ses 
she,  Zekle,  ses  she,  our  Hosee's  gut  the  chollery  or  suthin 


44  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

another  ses  she,  don't  you  Bee  skeered,  ses  I,  he's  oney 
amakin  pottery^  ses  i,  he's  oilers  on  hand  at  that  ere 
busynes  like  Da  &  martin,  and  shure  enuf,  cum  mornin, 
Hosy  he  cum  down  stares  full  chizzle,  hare  on  eend  and 
cote  tales  flyin,  and  sot  rite  of  to  go  reed  his  varses  to 
Parson  Wilbur  bein  he  haint  aney  grate  shows  o'  book 
larnin  himself,  bimeby  he  cum  back  and  sed  the  parson 
wuz  dreffle  tickled  with  'em  as  I  hoop  you  will  Be,  and  said 
they  wuz  True  grit 

Hosea  ses  taint  hardly  fair  to  call  'em  hisn  now,  cos  the 
parson  kind  o'  slicked  off  sum  o'  the  last  varses,  but  he  told 
Hosee  he  didnt  want  to  put  his  ore  in  to  tetch  to  the  Rest 
on  'em,  bein  they  wuz  verry  well  As  thay  wuz,  and  then 
Hosy  ses  he  sed  suthin  a  nuther  about  Simplex  Mundishes 
or  sum  sech  feller,  but  I  guess  Hosea  kind  o'  didn't  hear 
him,  for  I  never  hearn  o'  nobody  o'  that  name  in  this 
villadge,  and  I've  lived  here  man  and  boy  76  year  cum  next 
tatur  digging,  and  thar  aint  nowheres  a  kitting  spryer'n 
I  be. 

If  you  print  'em  I  wish  you'd  jest  let  folks  know  who 
hosy's  father  is,  cos  my  ant  Keziah  used  to  say  it's  nater  to 
be  curus  ses  she,  she  aint  livin  though  and  he's  a  likely 
kind  o'  lad. 

EZEKIEL  BIGLOW. 


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 ; 

^  Aut  insanity  aul  versos  facit. — H.  W. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  45 

Put  in  stiff,  you  fifer  feller, 

Let  folk  see  how  spry  you  be, — 
Guess  you'll  toot  till  you  are  yeller 

'Fore  you  git  ahold  o'  me ! 


Thet  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  drefile  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  bem'  biled  ? 


46  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

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  said  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. 


'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. 

Wut's  the  use  o'  meetin'-goin' 

Every  Sabbath,  wet  or  dry, 
Ef  it's  right  to  go  amowin' 

Feller-men  like  oats  an'  rye  ? 
I  dunno  but  wut  it's  pooty 

Trainin'  round  in  bobtail  coats, — 
But  it's  curus  Christian  dooty 

This  'ere  cuttin'  folks's  throats. 


They  may  talk  o'  Freedom's  airy 
Tell  they're  pupple  in  the  face, — 

It's  a  grand  gret  cemetary 

Fer  the  barthrights  of  our  race ; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  47 

They  jest  want  this  Californy 

So's  to  lug  new  slave-states  in 
To  abuse  ye,  an'  to  scorn  ye, 

An'  to  plunder  ye  like  sin. 


Aint  it  cute  to  see  a  Yankee 

Take  sech  everlastin'  pains, 
All  to  git  the  Devil's  thankee, 

Helpin'  on  'em  weld  their  chains  ? 
Wy,  it's  jest  e."  clear  ez  figgers, 

Clear  ez  one  an'  one  make  two, 
Chaps  thet  make  black  slaves  o'  niggers 

Want  to  make  wite  slaves  o'  you. 

Tell  ye  jest  the  eend  I've  come  to 

Arter  cipherin'  plaguy  smart, 
An'  it  makes  a  handy  sum,  tu. 

Any  gump  could  lam  by  heart ; 
Laborin'  man  an'  laborin'  woman 

Hev  one  glory  an'  one  shame, 
Ev'y  thin'  thet's  done  inhuman 

Injers  all  on  'em  the  same. 

'Taint  by  turnin'  out  to  hack  folks ; 

You're  agoin'  to  git  your  right, 
Nor  by  lookin'  down  on  black  folks 

Coz  you're  put  upon  by  wite ; 
Slavery  aint  o'  nary  color, 

'Taint  the  hide  thet  makes  it  wus. 
All  it  keers  fer  in  a  feller 

'S  jest  to  make  him  fill  its  pus. 


48  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Want  to  tackle  tne  in,  du  ye? 

I  expect  you'll  hev  to  wait ; 
Wen  cold  lead  puts  daylight  thru  ye 

You'll  begin  to  kal'late  : 
Spose  the  crows  wun't  fall  to  pickin' 

All  the  carkiss  from  your  bones, 
Coz  you  helped  to  give  a  lickin' 

To  them  poor  half-Spanish  drones  ? 


Jest  go  home  an'  ask  our  Nancy 

Wether  I'd  be  sech  a  goose 
Ez  to  jine  ye, — guess  you'd  fancy 

The  etarnal  bung  wuz  loose ! 
She  wants  me  fer  home  consumption, 

Let  alone  the  hay's  to  mow, — 
Ef  you're  after  folks  o'  gumption. 

You've  a  darned  long  row  ta  hoe. 


Take  them  editors  thet's  crowin' 

Like  a  cockerel  three  months  old, — 
Don't  ketch  any  on  'em  goin'. 

Though  they  be  so  blasted  bold; 
Aint  they  a  prime  lot  o'  fellers  ? 

'Fore  they  think  on't  they  will  sprout, 
(Like  a  peach  thet's  got  the  yellers,) 

With  the  meanness  bustin'  out. 


Wal,  go  'long  to  help  'em  stealin' 
Bigger  pens  to  cram  with  slaves, 

Help  the  men  thet's  oilers  dealin' 
Insults  on  your  fathers'  graves; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  49 

Help  the  strong  to  grind  the  feeble, 

Help  the  many  agin  the  few, 
Help  the  men  thet  call  your  people 

Witewashed  slaves  an'  peddlin'  crew  ! 


Massachusetts,  God  forgive  her, 

She's  akneelin'  with  the  rest. 
She,  thet  ough'  to  ha'  clung  fer  ever 

In  her  grand  old  eagle-nest; 
She  thet  ough'  to  stand  so  fearless 

Wile  the  wracks  are  round  her  hurled, 
Holdin'  up  a  beacon  peerless 

To  the  oppressed  of  all  the  world ! 

Haint  they  sold  your  colored  seamen  ? 

Haint  they  made  your  env'ys  wiz  ? 
Wui'W  make  ye  act  like  freemen  ? 

Wui'W  git  your  dander  riz  ? 
Come,  I'll  tell  ye  wut  I'm  thinkin' 

Is  our  dooty  in  this  fix. 
They'd  ha'  done  't  ez  quick  ez  winkin' 

In  the  days  o'  seventy-six. 


Clang  the  bells  in  every  steeple. 

Call  all  true  men  to  disown 
The  tradoocers  of  our  people, 

The  enslavers  o'  their  own ; 
Let  our  dear  old  Bay  State  proudly 

Put  the  trumpet  to  her  mouth. 
Let  her  ring  this  messidge  loudly 

In  the  ears  of  all  the  South  : — 


5©  THE  B 2 GLOW  PAPERS, 

"  I'll  return  ye  good  fer  evil 

Much  ez  we  frail  mortils  can, 
But  I  wun't  go  help  the  Devil 

Makin'  man  the  cus  o'  man; 
Call  me  coward,  call  me  traiter, 

Jest  ez  suits  your  mean  idees, — 
Here  I  stand  a  tyrant-hater. 

An'  the  friend  o'  God  an'  Peace  ! " 


Ef  I'd  my  way  I  hed  ruther 

We  should  go  to  work  an'  part, — 
They  take  one  way,  we  take  t'other, — 

Guess  it  wouldn't  break  my  heart; 
Man  had  ough'  to  put  asunder 

Them  thet  God  has  noways  jined; 
An'  I  shouldn't  gretly  wonder 

Ef  there's  thousands  o'  my  mind. 

[The  first  recruiting  sergeant  on  record  I  conceive  to  have  been  that 
individual  who  is  mentioned  in  the  Book  of  Job  as  going  to  and  fro  xk 
the  earth,  and  walking  up  and  down  in  it.  Bishop  Latimer  will  have 
him  to  have  been  a  bishop,  but  to  me  that  other  calling  would  appear 
more  congenial.  The  sect  of  Cainites  is  not  yet  extinct,  who  esteemed 
the  first-born  of  Adam  to  be  the  most  worthy,  not  only  because  of  that 
privilege  of  primogeniture,  but  inasmuch  as  he  was  able  to  overcome 
and  slay  his  younger  brother.  That  was  a  wise  saying  of  the  famous 
Marquis  Pescara  to  the  Papal  Legate,  that  it  was  impossible  for  men  to 
serve  Mars  and  Christ  at  the  same  time.  Yet  in  time  past  the  pro- 
fession of  arms  was  judged  to  be  /car'  i^ox^"  that  of  a  gentleman,  nor 
does  this  opinion  want  for  strenuous  upholders  even  in  our  day.  Must 
we  suppose,  then,  that  the  profession  of  Christianity  was  only  intended 
for  losels,  or,  at  best,  to  afford  an  opening  for  plebeian  ambition  ?  Or 
shall  we  hold  with  that  nicely  metaphysical  Pomeranian,  Captain  Vratz, 
who  was  Count  Konigsmark's  chief  instrument  in  the  murder  of 
Mr.  Thynne,  that  the  Scheme  of  Salvation  has  been  arranged  with  an 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  51 

especial  eye  to  the  necessities  of  the  upper  classes,  and  that  "  God  would 
consider  a  gentleman  and  deal  with  him  suitably  to  the  condition  and 
profession  he  had  placed  him  in  "  ?  It  may  be  said  of  us  all,  Exemplo 
plus  quatn  raiione  vivimus. — H.  W.] 


No.  II. 
A    LETTER 


FROM  MR.  HOSEA  BIGLOW  TO  THE  HON.  J.  T.  BUCKINGHAM, 
EDITOR  OF  THE  "  BOSTON  COURIER,"  COVERING  A  LETTER 
FROM  MR.  B.  SAWIN,  PRIVATE  IN  THE  MASSACHUSETTS 
REGIMENT. 

[This  letter  of  Mr.  Sawin's  was  not  originally  written  in  verse.  Mr. 
Biglow,  thinking  it  peculiarly  susceptible  of  metrical  adornment,  trans- 
lated it,  so  to  speak,  into  his  own  vernacular  tongue.  This  is  not  the 
time  to  consider  the  question,  whether  rhyme  be  a  mode  of  expression 
natural  to  the  human  race.  If  leisure  from  other  and  more  important 
avocations  be  granted,  I  will  handle  the  matter  more  at  large  in  an 
appendix  to  the  present  volume.  In  this  place  I  will  barely  remark 
that  I  have  sometimes  noticed  in  the  unlanguaged  prattlings  of  infants  a 
fondness  for  alliteration,  assonance,  and  even  rhyme,  in  which  natural 
predisposition  we  may  trace  the  three  degrees  through  which  our  Anglo- 
Saxon  verse  rose  to  its  culmination  in  the  poetry  of  Pope.  I  would  not 
be  understood  as  questioning  in  these  remarks  that  pious  theory  which 
supposes  that  children,  if  left  entirely  to  themselves,  would  naturally 
discourse  in  Hebrew.  For  this  the  authority  of  one  experiment  is 
claimed,  and  I  could,  with  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  desire  its  establish- 
ment, inasmuch  as  the  acquirement  of  that  sacred  tongue  would  thereby 
be  facilitated.  I  am  aware  that  Herodotus  states  the  conclusion  of 
Psammeticus  to  have  been  in  favour  of  a  dialect  of  the  Phrygian.  But, 
beside  the  chance  that  a  trial  of  this  importance  would  hardly  be  blessed 
to  a  Pagan  monarch  whose  only  motive  was  curiosity,  we  have  on  the 
Hebrew  side  the  comparatively  recent  investigation  of  James  the  Fourth 
of  Scotland.  I  will  add  to  this  prefatory  remark  that  Mr.  Sawin, 
though  a  native  of  Jaalam,  has  never  been  a  stated  attendant  on  the 


5a  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

religious  exercises  of  my  congregation.  I  consider  my  humble  efforts 
prospered  in  that  not  one  of  my  sheep  hath  ever  indued  the  wolfs 
clothing  of  war,  save  for  the  comparatively  innocent  diversion  of  a 
militia  training.  Not  that  my  flock  are  backward  to  undergo  the  hard- 
ships of  defensive  warfare.  They  serve  cheeriully  in  the  great  army 
which  fights  even  unto  death  pro  art's  et  facts,  accoutred  with  the  spade, 
the  axe,  the  plane,  the  sledge,  the  spelling-book,  and  other  such 
effectual  weapons  against  want  and  ignorance  and  unthrift.  I  have 
taught  them  (imder  God)  to  esteem  our  human  institutions  as  but  tents 
of  a  night,  to  be  stricken  whenever  Truth  puts  the  bugle  to  her  lips  and 
sounds  a  march  to  the  heights  of  wider-viewed  intelligence  and  more 
perfect  organisation. — H.  W.] 

Mister  Buckinum,  the  foUerin  Billet  was  writ  hum  by  a 
Yung  feller  of  our  town  that  wuz  cussed  fool  enuff  to  goe 
atrottin  inter  Miss  ChifiF  arter  a  Drum  and  fife,  it  ain't 
Nater  for  a  feller  to  let  on  that  he's  sick  o'  any  bizness  that 
He  went  intu  off  his  own  free  will  and  a  Cord,  but  I  rather 
cal'late  he's  middlin  tired  o'  voluntearin  By  this  Time.  I 
bleeve  u  may  put  dependunts  on  his  statemence.  For  I 
never  heerd  nothin  bad  on  him  let  Alone  his  havin  what 
Parson  Wilbur  cals  a  pongshong  iot  cocktales,  and  he  ses 
it  wuz  a  soshiashun  of  idees  sot  him  agoin  arter  the  Crootin 
Sargient  cos  he  wore  a  cocktale  onto  his  hat. 

his  Folks  gin  the  letter  to  me  and  i  shew  it  to  parson 
Wilbur  and  he  ses  it  oughter  Bee  printed,  send  It  to 
mister  Buckinum,  ses  he,  i  don't  oilers  agree  with  him,  ses 
he,  but  by  Time,^  ses  he,  I  du  like  a  feller  that  ain't  a 
Feared. 

'  In  relation  to  this  expression  I  cannot  but  think  that  Mr.  Biglow 
has  been  too  hasty  in  attributing  it  to  me.  Though  Time  be  a  com- 
paratively innocent  personage  to  swear  by,  and  though  Longinus  in  his 
discourse  Ilepi  'T^ous  has  commended  timely  oaths  as  not  only  a  useful 
but  sublime  figure  of  speech,  yet  I  have  always  kept  my  lips  free  from 
that  abomination.  Odi  profamim  vulgus,  I  hate  your  swearing  and 
hectoring  fellows. — H.  W. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  53 

I  have  intusspussed  a  Few  refleckshuns  hear  and  thair. 
We're  kind  o'  prest  with  Hayin. 

Ewers  respecfly 

HOSEA  BIGLOW. 

This  kind  o'  sogerin'  aint  a  mite  Hke  our  October  trainin', 
A  chap  could  clear  right  out  from  there  eft  only  looked  like 

rainin', 
An'  th'  Cunnles,  tu,  could  kiver  up  their  shappoes  with 

bandanners, 
An'  send  the  insines  skootin'  to  the  bar-room  with  their 

banners 
(Fear  o'  gittin'  on  'em  spotted),  an'  a  feller  could  cry  quarter 
Ef  he  fired  away  his  ramrod  arter  tu  much  rum  an'  water. 
Recollect  wut  fun  we  hed,  you'n'  I  an'  Ezry  HoUis, 
Up  there  to  Waltham  plain  last  fall,  along  o'  the  Corn- 

wallis  ?i 
This  sort  o'  thing  aint  jest  like  thet, — I  wish  thet  I  wuz 

furder, — 2 
Nimepunce  a  day  fer  killin' folks  comes  kind  o'low  fer  murder, 
(Wy  I've  worked  out  to  slarterin'  some  fer  Deacon  Cephas 

Billins, 
An'  in  the  hardest  times  there  wuz  I  oilers  tetched  ten 

shillins), 
There's  sutthin'  gits  into  my  throat  thet  makes  it  hard  to 

swaller, 
It  comes  so  nateral  to  think  about  a  hempen  collar; 
It's  glory, — but,  in  spite  o'  all  my  tryin'  to  git  callous, 
I  feel  a  kind  o'  in  a  cart,  aridin'  to  the  gallus. 
But  wen  it  comes  to  bein!  killed, — I  tell  ye  I  felt  streaked 

*  i  hait  the  Site  of  a  feller  with  a  muskit  as  I  do  pizn  But  their  is  fun 
to  a  cornwalHs  I  aint  agoin'  to  deny  it. — H.  B. 
'  he  means  Not  quite  so  fiir  I  guess.  — H.  B. 


54  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

The  fust  time  'tever  I  found  out  wy  baggonets  wuz  peaked ; 
Here's  how  it  wuz :  I  started  out  to  go  to  a  fandango, 
The  sentinul  he  ups  an'  sez,  "  That's  furder  'an  you  can  go." 
"None  o'  your  sarse,"  sez  I;  sez  he,  "Stan'  back!"  "Aint 

you  a  buster  ?  " 
Sez  I,  "I'm  up  to  all  thet  air,  I  guess  I've  been  to  muster; 
I  know  wy  sentinuls  air  sot;  you  aint  agoin'  to  eat  us : 
Caleb  haint  no  monopoly  to  court  the  seenoreetas ; 
My  folks  to  hum  air  full  ez  good  ez  hisn  be,  by  golly ! " 
An'  so  ez  I  wuz  goin'  by,  not  thinkin'  wut  would  folly, 
The  everlastin'  cus  he  stuck  his  one-pronged  pitchfork  in  me 
An'  made  a  hole  right  thru  my  close  ez  ef  I  wuz  an  in'my. 

Wal,  it  beats  all  how  big  I  felt  hoorawin'  in  ole  Funnel 
Wen   Mister  BoUes  he  gin  the  sword  to  our   Leftenant 

Cunnle, 
(It's  Mister  Secondary  Bolles,^  thet  writ  the  prize  peace 

essay ; 
Thet's  why  he  didn't  list  himself  along  o'  us,  I  dessay). 
An'  Rantoul,  tu,  talked  pooty  loud,  but  don't  put  his  foot 

in  it, 
Coz  human  life's  so  sacred  thet  he's  principled  agin  it, — 
Though  I  myself  can't  rightly  see  it's  any  wus  achokin'  on  'em, 
Than  puttin'  bullets  thru   their  lights,    or  with  a  bagnet 

pokin'  on  'em ; 
How  dreffle  slick  he  reeled  it  off  (like  Blitz  at  our  lyceum 
Ahaulin'  ribbins  from  his  chops  so  quick  you  skeercely  see 

'em), 
About  the  Anglo-Saxon  race  (an'  saxons  would  be  handy 
To  du  the  buryin'  down  here  upon  the  Rio  Grandy), 

^  the  ignerant  creeter  means  Sekketary;  but  he  oilers  stuck  to  \as 
books  like  cobbUr's  wax  to  an  ile-stone. — H.  B. 


THE  HIGLOW  PAPERS.  55 

About  our  patriotic  pas  an'  our  star-spangled  banner, 
Our  country's  bird  alookin'  on  an'  singin'  out  hosanner, 
A.n'  how  he  (Mister  B.  himself)  wuz  happy  fer  Ameriky, — 
I  felt,  ez  sister  Patience  sez,  a  leetle  mite  histericky. 
I  felt,  I  swon,  ez  though  it  wuz  a  dreffle  kind  o'  privilege 
Atrampin'  round  thru  Boston  streets  among  the  gutter's 

drivelage ; 
I  act'lly  thought  it  wuz  a  treat  to  hear  a  little  drummin', 
An'  it  did  bonyfidy  seem  millanyum  wuz  acomin' 
Wen  all  on  us  got  suits  (darned  like  them  wore  in  the  state 

prison) 
An'  every  feller  felt  ez  though  all  Mexico  wuz  hisn.^ 
This  'ere's  about  the  meanest  place  a  skunk   could   wal 

diskiver 
(Saltillo's  Mexican,  I  b'lieve,  fer  wut  we  call  Salt-river) ; 
The  sort  o'  trash  a  feller  gits  to  eat  docs  beat  all  nater, 
I'd  give  a  year's  pay  fer  a  smell  o'  one  good  blue-nose 

tater ; 
The  country  here  thet  Mister  Bolles  declared  to   be   so 

charm  in' 
Throughout  is  swarmin'  with  the  most   alarmin'  kind   o' 

varmin. 

He  talked  about  delishis  froots,  but  then  it  wuz  a  whopper 

all. 
The  hoU  on't's  mud  an'  prickly  pears,  with  here  an'  there  a 

chapparal; 
You  see  a  feller  peekin'  out,  an',  fust  you  know,  a  lariat 

^  it  must  be  aloud  that  thare's  a  streak  o'  nater  in  lovin'  sho,  but 
it  sartinly  is  I  of  the  curusest  things  in  nater  to  see  a  rispecktable  dri 
goods  dealer  (deekon  off  a  chutch  mayby)  a  riggin'  himself  out  in  the 
Weigh  they  du  and  struttin'  round  in  the  Reign  aspilin'  his  trowsis  and 
makin'  wet  goods  of  himself.  Ef  any  thin's  foolisher  and  more  dickius 
than  militerry  gloary  it  is  milishy  gloary. — H.  B. 


56  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Is  round  your  throat  an'  you  a  copse,  'fore  you  can  say, 

"Wut  air  ye  at?"i 
You    never  see   sech   darned   gret    ougs   (it   may  not   be 

irrelevant 
To  say  I've  seen  a  scarabaus  pilularius  ^  big  ez  a  year  old 

elephant), 
The  rigiment  come  up  one  day  in  time  to  stop  a  red  bug 
From  runnin'  off  with  Cunnle  Wright, — 'twuz  jest  a  common 

ciniex  ledularius. 

One  night  I  started  up  on  eend  an'  thought  I  wuz  to  hum 

agin, 
I  heern  a  horn,  thinks  I  it's  Sol  the  fisherman  hez  come  agin, 
His  bellowses  is  sound  enough, — ez  I'm  a  livin'  creeter, 
I  felt  a  thing  go  thru  my  leg, — 'twuz  nothin'  more  'n  a 

skeeter! 
Then   there's   the  yaller    fever,    tu,   they   call   it   here    el 

vomito, — 
(Come,  thet  wun't  du,  you  landcrab  there,  I  tell  ye  to  le'  go 

my  toe! 
My  gracious !  it's  a  scorpion  thet's  took  a  shine  to  play  with't, 
I   darsn't   skeer   the  tarnal  thing  fer  fear  he'd  run  away 

with't.) 
Afore  I  cum  away  from  hum  I  hed  a  strong  persuasion 
Thet  Mexicans  worn't  human  beans, ^ — an  ourang-outang 

nation, 

'  these  fellers  are  very  proppilly  called  Rank  Heroes,  and  the  more 
tha  kill  the  ranker  and  more  Hgrowick  tha  bekum. — H.  B. 

"  it  wuz  "tumblebug"  as  he  Writ  it,  but  the  parson  put  the  Latten 
instid.  i  sed  tother  maid  better  meeter,  but  he  said  tha  was  eddykated 
peepl  to  Boston  and  tha  wouldn't  stan'  it  no  how.  idnow  as  tha  wood 
and  idnow  as  tha  wood. — H.  B. 

'  he  means  human  beins,  that's  wut  he  means,  i  spose  he  kinder 
thought  tha  wuz  human  beans  ware  the  Xisle  Poles  comes  from. — H.  B. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  57 

A  sort  o'  folks  a  chap  could  kill  an'  never  dream  on't  arter, 
No  more'n  a  feller'd  dream  o'  pigs  that  he  hed  hed  to  slarter; 
I'd  an  idee  thet  they  were  built  arter  the  darkie  fashion  all, 
An'  kickin'  colored  folks  about,   you  know,  's  a  kind  o' 

national ; 
But  wen  I  jined  I  wornt  so  wise  ez  thet  air  queen  o'  Sheby, 
Fer,  come  to  look  at  'em,  they  aint  much  diff'rent  from  wut 

we  be. 
An'  here  we  air  ascrougin'  'em  out  o'  thir  own  dominions, 
Ashelterin'  'em,  ez  Caleb  sez,  under  our  eagle's  pinions, 
Wich  means  to  take  a  feller  up  jest  by  the  slack  o'  's  trowsis 
An'  walk  him  Spanish  clean  right  out  o'  all  his  homes  an' 

houses; 
VVal,  it  doos  seem  a  curus  way,  but  then  hooraw  fer  Jack- 
son ! 
It  must  be  right,  fer  Caleb  sez  it's  reg'lar  Anglo-Saxon. 
The  Mex'cans  don't  fight  fair,  they  say,  they  piz'n  all  the 

water. 
An'  du  amazin'  lots  o'  things  thet  isn't  wut  they  ough'  to ; 
Bein'  they  haint  no  lead,  they  make  their  bullets  out  o' 

copper 
An'  shoot  the  darned  things  at  us,  tu,  wich  Caleb  sez  aint 

proper ; 
He  sez  they'd  ough'  to  stan'  right  up  an'  let  us  pop  'em  fairly 
(Guess  wen  he  ketches  'em  at  thet  he'll  hev  to  git  up  airly), 
Thet  our  nation's  bigger'n  theirn  an'  so  its  rights  air  bigger, 
An'  thet  it's  all  to  make  'em  free  thet  we  air  puUin'  trigger, 
Thet  Anglo  Saxondom's  idee's  abreakin'  'em  to  pieces. 
An'  thet  idee's  thet  every  man  doos  jest  wut  he   damn 

pleases; 
Ef  I  don't  make  his  meanin'  clear,  perhaps  in  some  respex 

I  can, 
I  know  thet  "  every  man"  don't  mean  a  nigger  or  a  Mexican; 


58  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Aji'  there's  another   thing   I   know,  an'  thet   is,  ef  these 

creeturs, 
Thet  stick  an  Anglo-Saxon  mask  onto  State-prison  feeturs. 
Should  come  to  Jaalam  Centre  fer  to  argify  an'  spout  on't, 
The  gals  'ould  count  the  silver  spoons  the  minnit   they 

cleared  out  on't. 

This  goin'  ware  glory  waits  ye  haint  one  agreeable  feetur, 
An'  ef  it  worn't  fer  wakin'  snakes,   I'd  home  agin  short 

meter ; 
O,  wouldn't  I  be  ofT,  quick  time,  eft  worn't  thet   I  wuz 

sartin 
They'd  let  the  daylight  into  me  to  pay  me  fer  desartin ! 
I  don't  approve  o'  tellin'  tales,  but  jest  to  you  I  may  state 
Our  ossifers  aint  wut  they  wuz  afore  they  left  the  Bay  state ; 
Then  it  wuz  "  Mister  Sawin,  sir,  you're  middlin'  well  now, 

be  ye? 
Step  up  an'  take  a  nipper,  sir;  I'm  dreffle  glad  to  see  ye;" 
But  now  it's  "Ware's  my  eppylet?   here,  Sawin,  step  an 

fetch  it ! 
An'  mind  your  eye,  be  thund'rin'  spry,  or,  damn  ye,  you 

shall  ketch  it ! " 
VVal,   ez  the  Doctor  sez,   some  pork  will  bile  so,  but  by 

mighty, 
Ef  I  hed  sum  on  'em  to  hum,  I'd  give  'em  linkum  vity, 
I'd  play  the  rogue's  march  on  their  hides  an'  other  music 

foUerin' — 
But  I  must  close  my  letter  here,  fer  one  on  'em's  ahollerin', 
These  Anglo-Saxon  ossifers, — wal,  taint  no  use  ajawin', 
I'm  safe  enlisted  fer  the  war, 

Yourn, 
BIRDOFREDUM  SAWIN. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  59 

[Those  have  not  been  wanting  (as,  indeed,  when  hath  Satan  been  to 
seek  for  attorneys?)  who  have  maintained  that  our  late  inroad  upon 
Mexico  was  undertaken,  not  so  much  for  the  avenging  of  any  national 
quarrel,  as  for  the  spreading  of  free  institutions  and  of  Protestantism. 
Capita  vix  duabus  Anticyris  medenda  1  Verily  I  admire  that  no  pious 
sergeant  among  these  new  Crusaders  beheld  Martin  Luther  riding  at 
the  front  of  the  host  upon  a  tamed  pontifical  bull,  as,  in  that  former 
invasion  of  Mexico,  the  zealous  Gomara  (spawn  though  he  were  of  the 
Scarlet  Woman)  was  favoured  with  a  vision  of  St.  James  of  Compostella, 
skewering  the  infidels  upon  his  apostolical  lance.  We  read,  also,  that 
Richard  of  the  lion  heart,  having  gone  to  Palestine  on  a  similar  errand 
of  mercy,  was  divinely  encouraged  to  cut  the  throats  of  such  Paynims 
as  refused  to  swallow  the  bread  of  life  (doubtless  that  they  might  be 
thereafter  incapacitated  for  swallowing  the  filthy  gobbets  of  Mahound) 
by  angels  of  heaven,  who  cried  to  the  king  and  his  knights, — Seigneurs, 
tuez  I  tuez  I  providentially  using  the  French  tongue,  as  being  the  only 
one  understood  by  their  auditors.  This  would  argue  for  the  panto- 
glottism  of  these  celestial  intelligences,  while,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
Devil,  teste  Cotton  Mather,  is  unversed  in  certain  of  the  Indian  dialects. 
Yet  must  he  be  a  semeiologist  the  most  expert,  making  himself 
intelligible  to  every  people  and  kindred  by  signs ;  no  other  discourse, 
indeed,  being  needful,  than  such  as  the  mackerel- fisher  holds  with  his 
finned  quarry,  who,  if  other  bait  be  wanting,  can  by  a  bare  bit  of  white 
rag  at  the  end  of  a  string  captivate  those  foolish  fishes.  Such  pisca- 
torial oratory  is  Satan  cunning  in.  Before  one  he  trails  a  hat  and  feather, 
or  a  bare  feather  without  a  hat ;  before  another,  a  presidential  chair, 
or  a  tidewaiter's  stool,  or  a  pulpit  in  the  city,  no  matter  what.  To  us, 
dangling  there  over  our  heads,  they  seem  junkets  dropped  out  of  the 
seventh  heaven,  sops  dipped  in  nectar ;  but,  once  in  our  mouths,  they 
are  all  one,  bits  of  fuzzy  cotton. 

This,  however,  by  the  way.  It  is  time  now  revocare  gradum.  While 
so  many  miracles  of  this  sort,  vouched  by  eye-witnesses,  have  encouraged 
the  arms  of  Papists,  not  to  speak  of  Echetlaeus  at  Marathon  and  those 
Dioscuri  (whom  we  must  conclude  imps  of  the  pit)  who  sundry  times 
captained  the  pagan  Roman  soldiers,  it  is  strange  that  our  first  American 
crusade  was  not  in  some  such  wise  also  signalised.  Yet  it  is  said  that 
the  Lord  hath  manifestly  prospered  our  armies.  This  opens  the 
question  whether,  when  our  hands  are  strengthened  to  make  great 
slaughter  of  our  enemies,  it  be  absolutely  and  demonstratively  certain 
Uiat  this  might  is  added  to  us  from  above,  or  whether  some  Potentate 


6o  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

firom  an  opposite  quarter  may  not  have  a  finger  in  it,  as  there  are  few 
pies  into  which  his  meddling  digits  are  not  thrust.  Would  the  Sanc- 
tifier  and  Setter-apart  of  the  seventh  day  have  assisted  in  a  victory 
gained  on  the  Sabbath,  as  was  one  in  the  late  war  ?  Or  has  that  day 
become  less  an  object  of  his  especial  care  since  the  year  1697,  when  so 
manifest  a  providence  occurred  to  Mr.  William  Trowbridge,  in  answer 
to  whose  prayers,  when  he  and  all  on  shipboard  with  him  were  starving, 
a  dolphin  was  sent  daily,  "  which  was  enough  to  serve  'em  ;  only  on 
Saturdays  they  still  catched  a  couple,  and  on  the  Lord's  Days  they 
could  catch  none  at  all  ?  "  Haply  they  might  have  been  permitted,  by 
way  of  mortification,  to  take  some  few  sculpins  (those  banes  of  the  salt- 
water angler),  which  unseemly  fish  would,  moreover,  have  conveyed  to 
them  a  symbolical  reproof  for  their  breach  of  the  day,  being  known  in 
the  rude  dialect  of  our  mariners  as  Cape  Cod  Clergymen. 

It  has  been  a  refreshment  to  many  nice  consciences  to  know  that  our 
Chief  Magistrate  would  not  regard  with  eyes  of  approval  the  (by  many 
esteemed)  sinfiil  pastime  of  dancing,  and  I  own  myself  to  be  so  far  of 
that  mind,  that  I  could  not  but  set  my  face  against  this  Mexican  Polka, 
though  danced  to  the  Presidential  piping  with  a  Gubernatorial  second. 
If  ever  the  country  should  be  seized  with  another  such  mania  de  propa- 
gatiddfide,  I  think  it  would  be  wise  to  fill  our  bombshells  with  alternate 
copies  of  the  Cambridge  Platform  and  the  Thirty-nine  Articles,  which 
would  produce  a  mixture  of  the  highest  explosive  power,  and  to  wrap 
every  one  of  our  cannon-balls  in  a  leaf  of  the  New  Testament,  the  read- 
ing of  which  is  denied  to  those  who  sit  in  the  darkness  of  Popery. 
Those  iron  evangelists  would  thus  be  able  to  disseminate  vital  religion 
and  Gospel  truth  in  quarters  inaccessible  to  the  ordinary  missionary. 
I  have  seen  lads,  unimpregnate  with  the  more  sublimated  punctilious- 
ness of  Walton,  secure  pickerel,  taking  their  unwary  siesta  beneath 
the  lily-pads  too  nigh  the  surface,  with  a  gun  and  small  shot.  Why 
not,  then,  since  gunpowder  was  unknown  in  the  time  of  the  Apostles 
(not  to  enter  here  upon  the  question  whether  it  were  discovered  before 
that  period  by  the  Chinese),  suit  our  metaphor  to  the  age  in  which  we 
live,  and  say  shooters  as  well  zs,  fishers  of  men  ? 

I  do  much  fear  that  we  shall  be  seized  now  and  then  with  a  Protestant 
fervour,  as  long  as  we  have  neighbour  Naboths  whose  wallowings  in 
Papistical  mire  excite  our  horror  in  exact  proportion  to  the  size  and 
desirableness  of  their  vineyards.  Yet  I  rejoice  that  some  earnest 
Protestants  have  been  made  by  this  war, — I  mean  those  who  protested 
against  it.     Fewer  they  were  than  I  could  wish,  for  one  might  imagine 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  6i 

America  to  have  been  colonised  by  a  tribe  of  those  nondescript  African 
animals  the  Aye-Ayes,  so  difficult  a  word  is  No  to  us  all.  There  is 
some  malformation  or  defect  of  the  vocal  organs,  which  either  prevents 
our  uttering  it  at  all,  or  gives  it  so  thick  a  pronunciation  as  to  be  un- 
intelligible. A  mouth  filled  with  the  national  pudding,  or  watering  in 
expectation  thereof,  is  wholly  incompetent  to  this  refractory  mono- 
syllable. An  abject  and  herpetic  Public  Opinion  is  the  Pope,  the 
Anti-Christ,  for  us  to  protest  against  e  corde  cordium.  And  by  what 
College  of  Cardinals  is  this  our  God's-vicar,  our  binder  and  looser, 
elected  ?  Very  like,  by  the  sacred  conclave  of  Tag,  Rag,  and  Bobtail, 
in  the  gracious  atmosphere  of  the  grog-shop.  Yet  it  is  of  this  that  we 
must  all  be  puppets.  This  thumps  the  pulpit-cushion,  this  guides  the 
editor's  pen,  this  wags  the  senator's  tongue.  This  decides  what 
Scriptures  are  canonical,  and  shuffles  Christ  away  into  the  Apocrypha. 
According  to  that  sentence  fathered  upon  Solon,  OCtw  h-r\iJ.baiov  KaKhv 
tpxerai  of/co5'  iKdarCj).  This  unclean  spirit  is  skilful  to  assume  various 
shapes.  I  have  known  it  to  enter  my  own  study  and  nudge  my  elbow 
of  a  Saturday,  under  the  semblance  of  a  wealthy  member  of  my  congre- 
gation. It  were  a  great  blessing,  if  every  particular  of  what  in  the  sum 
we  call  popular  sentiment  could  carry  about  the  name  of  its  manu- 
facturer stamped  legibly  upon  it.  I  gave  a  stab  under  the  fifth  rib  to 
that  pestilent  fallacy, — "  Our  country,  right  or  wrong," — by  tracing  its 
original  to  a  speech  of  Ensign  Cilley  at  a  dinner  of  the  Bungtown 
Fencibles.— H.  W.] 


No.  III. 

WHAT   MR.    ROBINSON   THINKS. 

[A  few  remarks  on  the  following  verses  will  not  be  out  of  place. 
The  satire  in  them  was  not  meant  to  have  any  personal,  but  only  a 
general,  application.  Of  the  gentleman  upon  whose  letter  they  were 
intended  as  a  commentary  Mr.  Biglow  had  never  heard,  till  he  saw  the 
letter  itself.  The  position  of  the  satirist  is  oftentimes  one  which  he 
would  not  have  chosen,  had  the  election  been  left  to  himself.  In 
attacking  bad  principles,  he  is  obliged  to  select  some  individual  who 
has  made  himself  their  cMponent,  and  in  whom  they  are  impersonate, 
to  the  end  that  what  he  says  may  not,  through  ambiguity,  be  dissipated 


62  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS, 

tenues  in  attns.  For  what  says  Seneca  ?  Longum  iter  per  prcecepta, 
breve  et  efficace  per  exempla.  A  bad  principle  is  comparatively  harm- 
less while  it  continues  to  be  an  abstraction,  nor  can  the  general  mind 
comprehend  it  fully  till  it  is  printed  in  that  large  type  which  all  men 
can  read  at  sight,  namely,  the  life  and  character,  the  sayings  and  doings, 
of  particular  persons.  It  is  one  of  the  cunningest  fetches  of  Satan,  that 
he  never  exposes  himself  directly  to  our  arrows,  but,  still  dodging 
behind  this  neighbour  or  that  acquaintance,  compels  us  to  wound  him 
through  them,  if  at  all.  He  holds  our  afifections  as  hostages,  the  while 
he  patches  up  a  truce  with  our  conscience. 

Meanwhile,  let  us  not  forget  that  the  aim  of  the  true  satirist  is  not  to 
be  severe  upon  persons,  but  only  upon  falsehood,  and,  as  Truth  and 
Falsehood  start  from  the  same  point,  and  sometimes  even  go  along 
together  for  a  little  way,  his  business  is  to  follow  the  path  of  the  latter 
after  it  diverges,  and  to  show  her  floundering  in  the  bog  at  the  end  of  it. 
Truth  is  quite  beyond  the  reach  of  satire.  There  is  so  brave  a  simplicity 
in  her,  that  she  can  no  more  be  made  ridiculous  than  an  oak  or  a  pine. 
The  danger  of  the  satirist  is,  that  continual  use  may  deaden  his 
sensibility  to  the  force  of  language.  He  becomes  more  and  more 
liable  to  strike  harder  than  he  knows  or  intends.  He  may  be  careful 
to  put  on  his  boxing-gloves,  and  yet  forget  that  the  older  they  grow 
the  more  plainly  may  the  knuckles  inside  be  felt.  Moreover,  in  the 
heat  of  contest,  the  eye  is  insensibly  drawn  to  the  crown  of  victory, 
whose  tawdry  tinsel  glitters  through  that  dust  of  the  ring  which 
obscures  Truth's  wreath  of  simple  leaves.  I  have  sometimes  thought 
that  my  young  friend,  Mr.  Biglow,  needed  a  monitory  hand  laid  on  his 
arm, — aliquid  sufflaminandus  erat.  I  have  never  thought  it  good 
husbandry  to  water  the  tender  plants  of  reform  with  aqua  fortis,  yet, 
where  so  much  is  to  do  in  the  beds,  he  were  a  sorry  gardener  who 
should  wage  a  whole  day's  war  with  an  iron  scuffle  on  those  ill  weeds 
that  make  the  garden-walks  of  life  unsightly,  when  a  sprinkle  of  Attic 
salt  will  wither  them  up.  Est  ars  etiam  maledicendi,  says  Scaliger,  and 
truly  it  is  a  hard  thing  to  say  where  the  graceful  gentleness  of  the  lamb 
merges  in  downright  sheepishness.  We  may  conclude  with  worthy  and 
wise  Dr.  Fuller,  that  "one  may  be  a  lamb  in  private  wrongs,  but  in 
hearing  general  affronts  to  goodness  they  are  asses  which  are  not 
Uons."— H.  W.] 


THE  BIGLOW  PAFERS.  63 

GuvENER  B.  is  a  sensible  man; 

He  stays  to  his  home  an'  looks  arter  his  folks; 
He  draws  his  furrer  ez  straight  ez  he  can, 
An'  into  nobody's  tater-patch  pokes; 
But  John  P. 
Robinson  he 
Sez  he  wunt  vote  fer  Guvener  B. 


My !  aint  it  terrible  ?     Wut  shall  we  du  ? 

We  can't  never  choose  him,  o'  course, — thet's  flat; 
Guess  we  shall  hev  to  come  round  (don't  you  ?), 
An'  go  in  for  thunder  an'  guns,  an'  all  that; 
Fer  John  P. 
Robinson  he 
Sez  he  wunt  vote  fer  Guvener  B. 


Gineral  C.  is  a  dreffle  smart  man : 

He's  ben  on  all  sides  thet  gives  places  or  pelf; 
But  consistency  still  wuz  a  part  of  his  plan, — 
He's  ben  true  to  one  party, — an'  thet  is  himself; 
So  John  P. 
Robinson  he 
Sez  he  shall  vote  fer  Gineral  C. 


Gineral  C.  he  goes  in  fer  the  war; 

He  don't  vally  principle  more'n  an  old  cud ; 
What  did  God  make  us  raytional  creeturs  fer, 
But  glory  an'  gunpowder,  plunder  an'  blood  ? 
So  John  P. 
Robinson  he 
Sez  he  shall  vote  fer  Gineral  C. 


64  THE  BTGLOW  PAPERS. 

We  were  gittin'  on  nicely  up  here  to  our  village, 

With  good  old  idees  o'  wut's  right  an'  wut  aint, 
We  kind  o'  thought  Christ  went  agin  war  an'  pillage, 
An'  thet  eppyletts  worn't  the  best  mark  of  a  saint; 
But  John  P. 
Robinson  he 
Sez  this  kind  o'  thing's  an  exploded  idee. 


The  side  of  our  country  must  oilers  be  took, 

An'  Presidunt  Polk,  you  know,  he  is  our  country; 
An'  the  angel  thet  writes  all  our  sins  in  a  book 
Puts  the  debit  to  him,  an'  to  us  the/^r  contry; 
An'  John  P. 
Robinson  he 
Sez  this  is  his  view  o'  the  thing  to  a  T. 

Parson  Wilbur  he  calls  all  these  argimunts  lies; 

Sez  they're  nothin'  on  airth  but  }ts\.  fee,  faw, /urn ; 
An'  thet  all  this  big  talk  of  our  destinies 
Is  half  on  it  ignorance,  an'  t'other  half  rum; 
But  John  P. 
Robinson  he 
Sez  it  ain't  no  sech  thing;  an',  of  course,  so  must  we. 

Parson  Wilbur  sez  he  never  heerd  in  his  life 

Thet  th'  Apostles  rigged  out  in  their  swaller-tail  coats, 
An'  marched  round  in  front  of  a  drum  an'  a  fife. 
To  git  some  on  'em  office,  an'  some  on  'em  votes; 
But  John  P. 
Robinson  he 
Sez  they  didn't  know  everythin'  down  in  Judee. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  65 

Wal,  it's  a  marcy  we've  gut  folks  to  tell  us 

The  rights  an'  the  wrongs  o'  these  matters,  I  vow, — 
God  sends  country  lawyers,  an'  other  wise  fellers. 
To  start  the  world's  team  wen  it  gits  in  a  slough; 
Fer  John  P. 
Robinson  he 
Sez  the  world'U  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  tittle  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,  f atria  fumus 
igne  alieno  htadentior  is  best  qualified  with  this, —  Vbi  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  organ- 
isations 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  multitude, — "  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  qttasi  novel  ca.     That  is  a  hard  choice  when 

5 


66  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

our  earthly  love  of  country  calls  upon  us  to  tread  one  path  and  our  duty 
points  us  to  another.  We  must  make  as  noble  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  pro- 
clivity 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  rumour  pointed  to  himward,  has  excited 
in  my  bosom  mingled  emotions  of  sorrow  and  surprise.  Well  may  my 
young  parishioner,  Mr.  Biglow,  exclaim  with  the  poet — 

'  Sic  vos  non  vobis,'  etc ; 

though,  in  sajring  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,  etc.  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 
^dus  Achates,  etc.)  if  I  did  not  step  forward  to  claim  for  him  whatever 
measure  of  applause  might  be  assigned  to  him  by  the  judicious. 

"  If  this  were  a  fitting  occasion,  I  might  venture  here  a  brief  disserta- 
tion touching  the  manner  and  kind  of  my  young  friend's  poetry.  But 
I  dubitate  whether  this  abstruser  sort  of  speculation  (though  enlivened 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  67 

by  some  apposite  instances  from  Aristophanes)  would  sufficiently  interest 
your  oppidan  readers.  As  regards  their  satirical  tone,  and  their  plain- 
ness 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  button  of  good-nature  on  the  point  of  it. 

"  The  productions  of  Mr.  B.  have  been  stigmatised  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  grass  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  any  thing  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.  i).  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 


68  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

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  classed  him  with  the  Whig  party.  He  says  that,  if  resolutions 
are  a  nourishing  kind  of  diet,  that  party  must  be  in  a  very  hearty  and 
flourishing  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  {korresco  rsferens)  infected  in  no  small 
measure  with  the  peculiar  notions  of  a  print  called  the  Liberatof ,  whose 
heresies  I  take  every  proper  opportunity  of  combating,  and  of  which, 
I  thank  God,  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  labouring  quietly  in  his 
vocation,  and  who  keeps  his  cloth  as  free  as  he  can  from  the  dust  of  the 
political  arena  (though  va  mihi  si  non  evan^elizavero),  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  accept- 
able 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  advertisement? 
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  \vill  not  press  it.  My  offer  does  not  spring  from  any 
weak  desire  of  seeing  my  name  in  print ;  for  I  can  enjoy  this  satis&c- 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  69 

tion  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  caUing  are  distinguished. 

"  I  would  rimply  add,  that  I  continue  to  fit  ingenuous  youth  for 
college,  and  that  I  have  two  spacious  and  airy  sleeping  apartments  at 
this  moment  unoccupied.  Ingenuas  didicisse,  etc.  Terms,  which  vary 
according  to  the  circumstances  of  the  parents,  may  be  known  on  applica- 
tion 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  appro- 
priate ornament,  and  balances  the  profile  of  Mrs.  W.,  cut  with  her  toe 
by  the  young  lady  bom  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  difificult  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  fiiture  edition.  It  may  be 
thought,  likewise,  that  General  S.  has  invalidated  his  claims  by  too 
much  attention  to  the  decencies  of  apparei,  and  the  habits  belonging  to 
a  gentleman.     These  abstruser  points  of  statesmanship  are  beyond  my 


70  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

scope.  I  wonder  not  that  successful  military  achievement  should 
attract  the  admiration  of  the  multitude.  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  honoured  name  who  held  the  oflBce  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  dukedine  .  .  . 
cunctos  duett.  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  fictitious  combats,  will  sometimes  dis- 
charge 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  regi- 
ment which  was  fortunately  never  called  to  active  military  duty.  I 
mention  this  circumstance  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  passage  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,  the  two  professions  were  esteemed  incompatible.  Consult 
Jortin  on  this  head. — H.  W.] 


THE  BIGL  O  PV  PAPERS.  7 1 


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  pronounced.  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  overpasses,  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  glass  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  Shak- 
speare,  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  licence  assumed  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  assemblages  for  speech-making 
which  do  not  better  deserve  the  title  of  Parliamentum  Indociorwn 
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  ambassador  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  ambassador,  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 


72  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

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  tnily  said  of  our  people  that  they 
enjoy  one  political  institution  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  oyslers  fall  to 
the  lot  of  comparatively  few,  the  shells  (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  Speakership. — H.  W.] 

No?    Hezhe?    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  as  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  vigour  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  prevent  him  ? 

A  marciful  Providunce  fashioned  us  holler 

O'  purpose  thet  we  might  our  principles  swaller ; 

It  can  hold  any  quantity  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. 


THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS.  73 

Aint  principle  precious  ?  then,  who's  goin'  to  use  it 

When  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  thet  principle  kind  o'  gits  spiled  by  exposure  ;^ 

A  man  that  lets  all  sorts  o'  folks  get  a  sight  on't 

Ough'  to  hev  it  all  took  right  away,  every  mite  on't  j 

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. 

Besides,  ther's  a  wonderful  power  in  latitude 

To  shift  a  man's  morril  relations  an'  attitude ; 

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'  saitin  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  Massachusetts, 

Wen  it  gits  on  to  Washinton,  somehow  askew  sets. 

*  The  speaker  is  of  a  different  mind  from  Tully,  who,  in  his  recently 
discovered  tractate,  De  Repuhlica,  tells  us,  Nee  vera  habere  virtutent  satis 
tst,  quasi  artem  aliquant,  nisi  ulare,  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,  noi 
•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 
mttt  nos  nostra  dixerintl — H.  W. 


74  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

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  get  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  '11  spile ; 
Then — Resolve, — Thet  we  want  hev  an  inch  o'  slave  terri- 
tory; 
Thet  President  Polk's  hoU  perceedins  air  very  tory ; 
Thet  the  war  is  a  damned  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  'twould  be  a  darned  shame  to  go  puUin'  o'  triggers 
To  extend  the  aree  of  abusin'  the  niggers." 
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'  fulfiUin'  the  prophecies, 
Wen  they're  on'y  jest  changin'  the  holders  of  offices  j 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  75 

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  annooal  soft-sodder  an'  taxes 

Now,  to  keep  unimpaired  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  hoU  human  race, 

An'  to  some  indervidgewals  on't  in  partickler, 

Who  love  Public  Opinion  an'  know  how  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  oilers  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  shins; 

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  Homers  ther's  good  plums  left  yetj) 

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  oilers  ez  slick  ez  molasses. 

An'  butter  their  bread  on  both  sides  with  The  Masses, 

Half  o'  whom  they've  persuaded,  by  way  of  a  joke, 

Thet  Wasbinton's  mantelpiece  fell  upon  Polk. 


76  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Now  all  o'  these  blessin's  the  Wigs  might  enjoy, 

Ef  they'd  gumption  enough  the  right  means  to  imploy  -^ 

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  'era, 

An'  they  notice  it  less  'an  the  ass  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  'era 
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'  /  aint  agoin'  to  cheat  my  constitoounts," — 
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. 
Constitoounts  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 

*  That  was  a  pithy  saying  of  Persius,  and  fits  our  politicians  without 
a  wrinkle,  Magister  artis,  ingeniique  largitor  venter. — H.  W. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  77 

Now  here  wuz  New  England  ahevin'  the  honour 

Of  a  chance  at  the  Speakership  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  "  1 
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  assumed  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  ? 
An'  ef  a  man  can,  wen  pervisions  hev  riz  so, 
Eat  up  his  own  words,  it's  a  marcy  it  is  so. 

Wy,  these  chaps  frum  the  North,  with  back-bones  to  'em, 

darn  'em, 
*Ould   be   wuth    more   'an    Gennle    Tom    Thumb   is    to 

Barnum  ; 
Ther's  enough  thet  to  office  on  this  very  plan  grow, 
By  exhibitin'  how  very  small  a  man  can  grow ; 
But  an  M.C.  frum  here  oilers  hastens  to  state  he 
Belongs  to  the  order  called  invertebraty. 


78  THE  BJGLOW  PAPERS. 

Wence  some  gret  filologists  judge  primy  fashy 

Thet  M.C.  is  M.T.  by  paronomashy ; 

An'  these  few  exceptions  air  loosus  nayiury 

Folks  'ould  put  down  their  quarters  to  stare  at,  like  fury. 

It's  no  use  to  open  the  door  o'  success, 

Ef  a  member  can  bolt  so  fer  nothin'  or  less ; 

Wy,  all  o'  them  grand  constitootional  pillers 

Our  forefathers  fetched  with  'em  over  the  billers, 

Them  pillers  the  people  so  soundly  hev  slep'  on, 

Wile  to  slav'ry,  invasion,  an'  debt  they  were  swep'  on, 

Wile  our  Destiny  higher  an'  higher  kep'  mountin', 

(Though  I  guess  folks  '11  stare  wen  she  hends  her  account 

in,) 
Ef  members  in  this  way  go  kickin'  agin  'em, 
They  wunt  hev  so  much  ez  a  feather  left  in  'em. 

An',  ez  fer  this  Palfrey,i  we  thought  wen  we'd  gut  him  in 
He'd  go  kindly  in  wutever  harness  we  put  him  in ; 
Supposin'  we  did  know  thet  he  wuz  a  peace  man  ? 
Doos  he  think  he  can  be  Uncle  Sammle's  policeman, 
An*  wen  Sam  gits  tipsy  an'  kicks  up  a  riot, 
Lead  him  off  to  the  lockup  to  snooze  till  he's  quiet  ? 
Wy,  the  war  is  a  war  thet  true  paytriots  can  bear,  ef 
It  leads  to  the  fat  promised  land  of  a  taryiff; 
We  don't  go  an'  fight  it,  nor  aint  to  be  driv  on. 
Nor  Demmercrats  nuther,  thut  hev  wut  to  live  on  ; 
Ef  it  aint  jest  the  thing  thet's  well  pleasin'  to  God, 
It  makes  us  thought  highly  on  elsewhere  abroad ; 
The  Rooshian  black  eagle  looks  blue  in  his  eerie 
An'  shakes  both  his  heads  wen  he  hears  o'  Monteery; 

*  There  is  truth  yet  in  this  of  Juvenal, — 

"Dat  veniam  corvis,  vexat  censura  columbas." 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  79 

In  the  Tower  Victory  sets,  all  of  a  fluster, 

An'  reads,  with  locked  doors,  how  we  won  Cherry  Buster ; 

An'  old  Phihp  Lewis — thet  come  an'  kep'  school  here 

Fer  the  mere  sake  o'  scornin'  his  ryalist  ruler 

On  the  tenderest  part  of  our  kings  injuturo — 

Hides  his  crown  underneath  an  old  shut  in  his  bureau, 

Breaks  off  in  his  brags  to  a  suckle  o'  merry  kings, 

How  he  often  hed  hided  young  native  Amerrikins, 

An',  turnin'  quite  faint  in  the  midst  of  his  fooleries. 

Sneaks  downstairs  to  bolt  the  front  door  o'  the  Tooleries.^ 

You  say, — "  We'd  ha'  scared  'em  by  growin'  in  peace, 
A  plaguy  sight  more  then  by  bobberies  like  these"? 
Who  is  it  dares  say  thet  "our  naytional  eagle 
Wun't  much  longer  be  classed  with  the  birds  thet  air  regal, 
Coz  theirn  be  hooked  beaks,  an'  she,  arter  this  slaughter, 
'11  bring  back  a  bill  ten  times  longer'n  she  ough'  to"? 
Wut's  your  name  ?     Come,  I  see  ye,  you  upcountry  feller. 
You've  put  me  out  severil  times  with  your  beller; 

^  Jortin  is  willing  to  allow  of  other  miracles  besides  those  recorded  in 
Holy  Writ,  and  why  not  of  other  prophecies  ?  It  is  granting  too  much 
to  Satan  to  suppose  him,  as  divers  of  the  learned  have  done,  the 
inspirer  of  the  ancient  oracles.  Wiser,  I  esteem  it,  to  give  chance  the 
credit  of  the  successful  ones.  What  is  said  here  of  Louis  Philippe  was 
verified  in  some  of  its  minute  particulars  within  a  few  months'  time. 
Enough  to  have  made  the  fortune  of  Delphi  or  Hammon,  and  no  thanks 
to  Beelzebub  neither  !     That  of  Seneca  in  Medea  will  suit  here  : — 

"  Rapida  fortuna  ac  levis 
Prsecepsque  regno  eripuit,  exsilio  dedit." 

Let  us  allow,  even  to  richly  deserved  misfortune,  our  commiseration, 
and  be  not  over-hasty  meanwhile  in  our  censure  of  the  French  people, 
left  for  the  first  time  to  govern  themselves,  remembering  that  wise 
sentence  of  ^schylus, — 

"Attoj  hk  rpaxus  octtis  &v  viov  Kparfj, 

H.  W. 


8o  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Out  with  it!     Wut?     Biglow?     I  say  nothin'  furder, 
Thet  feller  would  like  nothin'  better'n  a  murder ; 
He's  a  trailer,  blasphemer,  an'  wut  ruther  worse  is, 
He  puts  all  his  ath'ism  in  dreffle  bad  verses ; 
Socity  aint  safe  till  sech  monsters  air  out  on  it, 
Refer  to  the  Post,  ef  you  hev  the  least  doubt  on  it ; 
Wy,  he  goes  agin  war,  agin  indirect  taxes, 
Agin  sellin'  wild  lands  'cept  to  settlers  with  axes, 
Agin  holdin'  o'  slaves,  though  he  knows  it's  the  corner 
Our  libbarty  rests  on,  the  mis'able  scorner ! 
In  short,  he  would  wholly  upset  with  his  ravages 
All  thet  keeps  us  above  the  brute  critters  an'  savages, 
An'  pitch  into  all  kinds  o'  briles  an'  confusions 
The  hoU  of  our  civilised,  free  institutions  ; 
He  writes  fer  thet  ruther  unsafe  print,  the  Courier, 
An'  likely  ez  not  hez  a  squintin'  to  Foorier ; 

I'll  be ,  thet  is,  I  mean  I'll  be  blest, 

Ef  I  hark  to  a  word  frum  so  noted  a  pest ; 

I  shan't  talk  with  him^  my  religion's  too  fervent. — 

Good  mornin',  my  friends,  I'm  your  most  humble  servant. 

[Into  the  question,  whether  the  ability  to  express  ourselves  in 
articulate  language  has  been  productive  of  more  good  or  evil,  I  shall 
not  here  enter  at  large.  The  two  faculties  of  speech  and  of  speech- 
making  are  wholly  diverse  in  their  natures.  By  the  first  we  make 
ourselves  intelligible,  by  the  last  unintelligible,  to  our  fellows.  It  has 
not  seldom  occurred  to  me  (noting  how  in  our  national  legislature  every- 
thing runs  to  talk,  as  lettuces,  if  the  season  or  the  soil  be  unpropitious, 
shoot  up  lankly  to  seed,  instead  of  forming  handsome  heads)  that  Babel 
was  the  first  Congress,  the  earliest  mill  erected  for  the  manufacture  of 
gabble.  In  these  days,  what  with  Town  Meetings,  School  Committees, 
Boards  (lumber)  of  one  kind  and  another.  Congresses,  Parliaments, 
Diets,  Indian  Councils,  Palavers,  and  the  like,  there  is  scarce  a  village 
which  has  not  its  factories  of  this  description  driven  by  (milk-and-) 
water  power.     I  cannot  conceive  the  confusion  of  tongues  to  have  been 


THE  BIGL  0  W  PAPERS.  8 1 

the  curse  of  Babel,  since  I  esteem  my  ignorance  of  other  languages  as  a 
kind  of  Martello-tower,  in  which  I  am  safe  from  the  furious  bombard- 
ments of  foreign  garrulity.  For  this  reason  I  have  ever  preferred  the 
study  of  the  dead  languages,  those  primitive  formations  being  Ararats 
upon  whose  silent  peaks  I  sit  secure  and  watch  this  new  deluge  without 
fear,  though  it  rain  figures  {simulacra,  semblances)  of  speech  forty  days 
and  nights  together,  as  it  not  uncommonly  happens.  Thus  is  my  coat, 
as  it  were,  without  buttons  by  which  any  but  a  vernacular  wild  bore  can 
seize  me.  Is  it  not  possible  that  the  Shakers  may  intend  to  convey  a 
quiet  reproof  and  hint,  in  fastening  their  outer  garments  with  hooks  and 
eyes  ? 

This  reflection  concerning  Babel,  which  I  find  in  no  Commentary, 
was  first  thrown  upon  my  mind  when  an  excellent  deacon  of  my  con- 
gregation (being  infected  with  the  Second  Advent  delusion)  assured  me 
that  he  had  received  a  first  instalment  of  the  gift  of  tongues,  as  a  small 
earnest  of  larger  possessions  in  the  like  kind  to  folow.  For,  of  a  truth, 
I  could  not  reconcile  it  with  my  ideas  of  the  Divine  justice  and  mercy 
that  the  single  wall  which  protected  people  of  other  languages  from  the 
incursions  of  this  otherwise  well-meaning  propagandist  should  be 
broken  down. 

In  reading  Congressional  debates,  I  have  fancied  that,  after  the 
subsidence  of  those  painful  buzzings  in  the  brain  which  result  from  such 
exercises,  I  detected  a  slender  residuum  of  valuable  information.  I 
made  the  discovery  that  nothing  takes  longer  in  the  saying  than 
anything  else,  for,  as  ex  nihilo  nihil  fit ,  so  from  one  polypus  nothing 
any  number  of  similar  ones  may  be  produced.  I  would  recommend  to 
the  attention  of  vivd  voce  debaters  and  controversialists  the  admirable 
example  of  the  monk  Copres,  who,  in  the  fourth  century,  stood  for  half- 
an-hour  in  the  midst  of  a  great  fire,  and  thereby  silenced  a  Manichsean 
antagonist  who  had  less  of  the  salamander  in  him.  As  for  those  who 
quarrel  in  print,  I  have  no  concern  with  them  here,  since  the  eyelids 
are  a  divinely-granted  shield  against  all  such.  Moreover,  I  have 
observed  in  many  modern  books  that  the  printed  portion  is  becoming 
gradually  smaller,  and  the  number  of  blank  or  fly-leaves  (as  they  are 
called)  greater.  Should  this  fortunate  tendency  of  literature  continue, 
books  will  grow  more  valuable  from  year  to  year,  and  the  whole 
Serbonian  bog  yield  to  the  advances  of  firm  arable  land. 

The  sagacious  Lacedaemonians  hearing  that  Tesephone  had  bragged 
that  he  could  talk  all  day  long  on  any  given  subject,  made  no  more 
ado,  but  forthwith  banished  him,  whereby  they  supplied  him  a  topic  and 

6 


82  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

at  the  same  time  took  care  that  his  experiment  upon  it  should  be  tried 
out  of  ear-shot. 

I  have  wondered,  in  the  Representatives'  Chamber  of  our  own 
Commonwealth,  to  mark  how  little  impression  seemed  to  be  produced 
by  that  emblematic  fish  suspended  over  the  heads  of  the  members.  Our 
wiser  ancestors,  no  doubt,  hung  it  there  as  being  the  animal  which  the 
Pythagoreans  reverenced  for  its  silence,  and  which  certainly  in  that 
particular  does  not  so  well  merit  the  epithet  cold-blooded^  by  which 
naturalists  distinguish  it,  as  certain  bipeds,  afflicted  with  ditch-water  on 
the  brain,  who  take  occasion  to  tap  themselves  in  Fanueil  Halls,  meet- 
ing-houses, and  other  places  of  public  resort. — H.  W.] 


No.  V. 
THE  DEBATE  IN  THE  SENNIT. 

SOT   TO   A   NUSRY   RHYME. 

[The  incident  which  gave  rise  to  the  debate  satirised,  in  the  following 
verses  was  the  unsuccessful  attempt  of  Drayton  and  Sayres  to  give  free- 
dom to  seventy  men  and  women,  fellow-beings  and  fellow-Christians. 
Had  Tripoli,  instead  of  Washington,  been  the  scene  of  this  undertaking, 
the  unhappy  leaders  in  it  would  have  been  as  secure  of  the  theoretic  as 
they  now  are  of  the  practical  part  of  martyrdom.  I  question  whether 
the  Dey  of  Tripoli  is  blessed  with  a  District  Attorney  so  benighted  as 
ours  at  the  seat  of  government.  Very  fitly  is  he  named  Key,  who  would 
allow  himself  to  be  made  the  instrument  of  locking  the  door  of  hope 
against  sufferers  in  such  a  cause.  Not  all  the  waters  of  the  ocean  can 
cleanse  the  vile  smutch  of  the  gaoler's  fingers  from  off  that  little  Key 
Ahenea  clavis,  a  brazen  Key  indeed  ! 

Mr.  Calhoun,  who  is  made  the  chief  speaker  in  this  burlesque,  seems 
to  think  that  the  light  of  the  nineteenth  century  is  to  be  put  out  as  soon 
as  he  tinkles  his  little  cow-bell  curfew.  Whenever  slavery  is  touched, 
he  sets  up  his  scarecrow  of  dissolving  the  Union.  This  may  do  for  the 
North,  but  I  should  conjecture  that  something  more  than  a  pumpkin- 
lantern  is  required  to  scare  manifest  and  irretrievable  Destiny  out  of 
her  path.  Mr.  Calhoun  cannot  let  go  the  apron-string  of  the  Past. 
The  Past  is  a  good  nurse,  but  we  must  be  weaned  from  her  sooner  or 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  83 

later,  even  though,  like  Plotinus,  we  should  run  home  from  school  to 
ask  the  breast,  after  we  are  tolerably  well-grown  youths.  It  will  not  do 
for  us  to  hide  our  faces  in  her  lap,  whenever  the  strange  Future  holds 
out  her  arms  and  asks  us  to  come  to  her. 

But  we  are  all  alike.  We  have  all  heard  it  said,  often  enough,  that 
little  boys  must  not  play  with  fire  ;  and  yet,  if  the  matches  be  taken  away 
from  us  and  put  out  of  reach  upon  the  shelf,  we  must  needs  get  into  our 
little  corner,  and  scowl  and  stamp  and  threaten  the  dire  revenge  of  going 
to  bed  without,  our  supper.  The  world  shall  stop  till  we  get  our 
dangerous  plaything  again.  Dame  Earth,  meanwhile,  who  has  more  than 
enough  household  matters  to  mind,  goes  bustling  hither  and  thither  as  a 
hiss  or  a  sputter  tells  her  that  this  or  that  kettle  of  hers  is  boiling  over, 
and  before  bedtime  we  are  glad  to  eat  our  porridge  cold,  and  gulp  down 
our  dignity  along  with  it. 

Mr.  Calhoun  has  somehow  acquired  the  name  of  a  great  statesman, 
and,  if  it  be  great  statesmanship  to  put  lance  in  rest  and  run  a  tilt  at  the 
Spirit  of  the  Age  with  the  certainty  of  being  next  moment  hurled  neck 
and  heels  into  the  dust  amid  universal  laughter,  he  deserves  the  title. 
He  is  the  Sir  Kay  of  our  modern  chivalry.  He  should  remember  the 
old  Scandinavian  mythus.  Thor  was  the  strongest  of  gods,  but  he 
could  not  wrestle  with  Time,  nor  so  much  as  lift  up  a  fold  of  the  great 
snake  which  knit  the  universe  together  ;  and  when  he  smote  the  Earth, 
though  with  his  terrible  mallet,  it  was  but  as  if  a  leaf  had  fallen.  Yet 
all  the  while  it  seemed  to  Thor  that  he  had  only  been  wrestling  with  an 
old  woman,  striving  to  lift  a  cat,  and  striking  a  stupid  giant  on  the 
head. 

And  in  old  times,  doubtless,  the  giants  were  stupid,  and  there  was 
no  better  sport  for  the  Sir  Launcelots  and  Sir  Gawains  than  to  go  about 
cutting  off  their  great  blundering  heads  with  enchanted  swords.  But 
things  have  wonderfully  changed.  It  is  the  giants,  nowadays,  that 
have  the  science  and  the  intelligence,  while  the  chivalrous  Don  Quixotes 
of  Conservatism  still  cumber  themselves  with  the  clumsy  armour  of 
a  bygone  age.  On  whirls  the  restless  globe  through  unsounded  time, 
with  its  cities  and  its  silences,  its  births  and  funerals,  half  light,  half 
shade,  but  never  wholly  dark,  and  sure  to  swing  round  into  the  happy 
morning  at  last.  With  an  involuntary  smile,  one  sees  Mr.  Calhoun 
letting  slip  his  pack-thread  cable  with  a  crooked  pin  at  the  end  of  it  to 
anchor  South  Carolina  upon  the  bank  and  shoal  of  the  Past. — H.  W.] 


84  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

TO    MR.    BUCKENAM. 

MR.  Editer,  As  i  wuz  kinder  prunin  round,  in  a  little 
nussry  sot  out  a  year  or  2  a  go,  the  Dbait  in  the  sennit  cum 
inter  my  mine  An  so  i  took  &  Sot  it  to  wut  I  call  a  nussry 
rime.  I  hev  made  sum  onnable  Gentlemun  speak  that 
dident  speak  in  a  Kind  uv  Poetikul  lie  sense  the  seeson 
is  dreffle  backerd  up  This  way 

ewers  as  ushul 

HOSEA  BIGLOW. 

"  Here  we  stan'  on  the  Constitution,  by  thunder ! 

It's  a  fact  o'  wich  ther's  bushils  o'  proofs ; 

Fer  how  could  we  trample  on't  so,  I  wonder, 

Eft  worn't  thet  it's  oilers  under  our  hoofs  ?  " 

Sez  John  C.  Calhoun,  sez  he ; — 

"  Human  rights  haint  no  more 

Right  to  come  on  this  floor, 

No  more'n  the  man  in  the  moon,"  sez  he. 

"  The  North  haint  no  kind  o'  bisness  with  nothin', 

An'  you've  no  idee  how  much  bother  it  saves ; 
We  aint  none  riled  by  their  frettin'  an'  frothin'. 
We're  used  to  layin'  the  string  on  our  slaves," 
Sez  John  C.  Calhoun,  sez  he ; — 
Sez  Mister  Foote, 
"  I  should  like  to  shoot 
The  hoU  gang,  by  the  gret  horn  spoon ! "  sez  he. 


"Freedom's  Keystond  is  Slavery,  thet  ther's  no  doubt  on, 
It's  sutthin'  thet's — wha'  d'  ye  call  it  ? — divine, — 

An'  the  slaves  thet  we  oilers  make  the  most  out  on 
Air  them  north  o'  Mason  an'  Dixon's  line," 


I 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  85 

Sez  John  C.  Calhoun,  sez  he ; — 

"Fer  all  thet,"  sez  Mangum, 

"  'Twould  be  better  to  hang  'em, 
An'  so  git  red  on  'em  soon,"  sez  he. 

•*  The  mass  ough'  to  labour  an'  we  lay  on  soffies, 

Thet's  the  reason  I  want  to  spread  Freedom's  aree ; 
It  puts  all  the  cunninest  on  us  in  office, 
An'  reelises  our  Maker's  orig'nal  idee," 
Sez  John  C.  Calhoun,  sez  he ; — 
"  Thet's  ez  plain,"  sez  Cass, 
"  Ez  thet  some  one's  an  ass, 
It's  ez  clear  ez  the  sun  is  at  noon,"  sez  he. 

•*  Now  don't  go  to  say  I'm  the  friend  of  oppression. 

But  keep  all  your  spare  breath  fer  coolin'  your  broth, 
Fer  I  oilers  hev  strove  (at  least  thet's  my  impression) 
To  make  cussed  free  with  the  rights  o'  the  North," 
Sez  John  C.  Calhoun,  sez  he ; — 
"Yes,"  sez  Davis  o'  Miss., 
"  The  perfection  o'  bliss 
Is  in  skinnin'  thet  same  old  coon,"  sez  he. 

"  Slavery's  a  thing  thet  depends  on  complexion. 
It's   God's    law  thet    fetters    on    black    skins    don't 
chafe ; 
Ef  brains  wuz  to  settle  it  (horrid  reflection  !) 
Wich  of  our  onnable  body'd  be  safe  ?  " 
Sez  John  C.  Calhoun,  sez  he ; — 
Sez  Mister  Hannegan, 
Afore  he  began  agin, 
"  Thet  exception  is  quite  oppertoon,"  sez  he. 


86  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

"  Gen'nie  Cass,  Sir,  you  needn't  be  twitchin'  your  collar, 

Your  merit's  quite  clear  by  the  dut  on  your  knees, 
At  the  North  we  don't  make  no  distinctions  o'  colour ; 
You  can  all  take  a  lick  at  our  shoes  wen  you  please," 
Sez  John  C.  Calhoun,  sez  he ; — 
Sez  Mister  Jarnagin, 
"  They  wunt  hev  to  lam  agin, 
They  all  on  'era  know  the  old  toon,"  sez  he. 

"  The  slavery  question  aint  no  ways  bewilderin*. 
North  an'   South  hev  one    int'rest,    it's    plain  to  a 
glance ; 
No'thern  men,  like  us  patriarchs,  don't  sell  their  childrin, 
But  they  du  sell  themselves,  ef  they  git  a  good  chance," 
Sez  John  C.  Calhoun,  sez  he ; — 
Sez  Atherton  here, 
"This  is  gittin'  severe, 
I  wish  I  could  dive  like  a  loon,"  sez  he. 

"  It'll  break  up  the  Union,  this  talk  about  freedom, 

An'  your  fact'ry  gals  (soon  ez  we  split)  '11  make  head, 
An'  gittin'  some  Miss  chief  or  other  to  lead  'em, 
'11  go  to  work  raisin'  promiscoous  Ned," 
Sez  John  C.  Calhoun,  sez  he; — 

"  Yes,  the  North,"  sez  Colquitt, 
"  Ef  we  Southeners  all  quit, 
Would  go  down  like  a  busted  balloon,"  sez  he. 

"  Jest  look  wut  is  .doin',  wut  annyky's  brewin' 
In  the  beautiful  clime  o'  the  olive  an'  vine. 

All  the  wise  aristoxy  is  tumblin'  to  ruin. 

An'  the  sankylots  drorin'  an'  drinkin'  their  wine," 


THE  BIGLO  W  PAPERS.  87 

Sez  John  C.  Calhoun,  sez  he  ; — 

"Yes,"  sez  Johnson,  "in  France 

They're  beginnin'  to  dance 
Beelzebub's  own  rigadoon,"  sez  he. 

"  The  South's  safe  enough,  it  don't  feel  a  mite  skeery. 

Our  slaves  in  their  darkness  an'  dut  air  tu  blest 
Not  to  welcome  with  proud  hallylugers  the  ery 

Wen  our  eagle  kicks  yourn  from  the  naytional  nest," 
Sez  John  C.  Calhoun,  sez  he ; — 
"O,"  sez  Westcott  o'  Florida, 
"Wut  treason  is  horrider 
Then  our  priv'leges  tryin'  to  proon  ?  "  sez  he. 

"It's  'coz  they're  so  happy,  thet,  wen  crazy  sarpints 

Slick  their  nose  in  our  bizness,  we  git  so  darned  riled  ; 
We  think  it's  our  dooty  to  give  pooty  sharp  hints, 

Thet  the  last  crumb  of  Edin  on  airth  shan't  be  spiled," 
Sez  John  C.  Calhoun,  sez  he ; — 
"Ah,"  sez  Dixon  H.  Lewis, 
"  It  perfectly  true  is 
Thet  slavery's  airth's  grettest  boon,"  sez  he. 

[It  was  said  of  old  time  that  riches  have  wings;  and,  though  this  be 
not  applicable  in  a  literal  strictness  to  the  wealth  of  our  patriarchal 
brethren  of  the  South,  yet  it  is  clear  that  their  possessions  have  legs, 
and  an  unaccountable  propensity  for  using  them  in  a  northerly  direction. 
I  marvel  that  the  grand  jury  of  Washington  did  not  find  a  true  bill 
against  the  North  Star  for  aiding  and  abetting  Drayton  and  Sayres.  It 
would  have  been  quite  of  a  piece  with  the  intelligence  displayed  by  the 
South  on  other  questions  connected  with  slavery.  I  think  that  no  ship 
of  state  was  ever  freighted  with  a  more  veritable  Jonah  than  this  same 
domestic  institution  of  ours.  Mephistopheles  himself  could  not  feign  so 
bitterly,  so  satirically  sad  a  sight  as  this  of  three  millions  of  human 
beings  crushed  beyond  help  or  hope  by  this  one  mighty  argument, — 


88  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

Our  fathers  knew  no  better  I  Nevertheless,  it  is  the  unavoidable 
destiny  of  Jonahs  to  be  cast  overboard  sooner  or  later.  Or  shall  we 
try  the  experiment  of  hiding  our  Jonah  in  a  safe  place,  that  none  may 
lay  hands  on  him  to  make  jetsam  of  him  ?  Let  us,  then,  with  equal 
forethought  and  wisdom,  lash  ourselves  to  the  anchor,  and  await  in 
pious  confidence  the  certain  result.  Perhaps  our  suspicious  passenger 
is  no  Jonah  after  all,  being  black.  For  it  is  well  known  that  a  super- 
intending Providence  made  a  kind  of  sandwich  of  Ham  and  his 
descendants,  to  be  devoured  by  the  Caucasian  race. 

In  God's  name,  let  all  who  hear  nearer  and  nearer  the  hungry  moan 
of  the  storm  and  the  growl  of  the  breakers,  speak  out !  But,  alas  1  we 
have  no  right  to  interfere.  If  a  man  pluck  an  apple  of  mine,  he  shall 
be  in  danger  of  the  justice  ;  but  if  he  steal  my  brother,  I  must  be  silent. 
Who  says  this?  Our  Constitution,  consecrated  by  the  callous  con- 
suetude of  sixty  years,  and  grasped  in  triumphant  argument  by  the 
left  hand  of  him  whose  right  hand  clutches  the  clotted  slave-whip. 
Justice,  venerable  with  the  undethronable  majesty  of  countless  seons, 
says, — Speak!  The  Past,  wise  with  the  sorrows  and  desolations  of 
ages,  from  amid  her  shattered  fanes  and  wolf-housing  palaces,  echoes, — 
Speak  !  Nature,  through  her  thousand  trumpets  of  freedom,  her  stars, 
her  sunrises,  her  seas,  her  winds,  her  cataracts,  her  mountains  blue  with 
cloudy  pines,  blows  jubilant  encouragement,  and  cries, — Speak  1 
From  the  soul's  trembling  abysses  the  still,  small  voice  not  vaguely 
murmurs, — Speak  !  But,  alas !  the  Constitution  and  the  Honourable 
Mr.  Bagowind,  M.  C. ,  say, — Be  dumb  ! 

It  occurs  to  me  to  suggest,  as  a  topic  of  inquiry  in  this  connection, 
whether,  on  that  momentous  occasion  when  the  goats  and  the  sheep 
shall  be  parted,  the  Constitution  and  the  Honourable  Mr.  Bagowind, 
M.C.,  will  be  expected  to  take  their  places  on  the  left  as  our  hircine 
vicars. 

"  Quid  sum  miser  tunc  diclurus  f 
Quern  patronum  rogaturus  /* 

There  is  a  point  where  toleration  sinks  into  sheer  baseness  and  pol- 
troonery. The  toleration  of  the  worst  leads  us  to  look  on  what  is 
barely  better  as  good  enough,  and  to  worship  what  is  only  moderately 
good.  Woe  to  that  man,  or  that  nation,  to  whom  mediocrity  has 
become  an  ideal ! 

Has  our  experiment  of  self-government  succeeded,  if  it  barely  manage 
to  rub  and  go  1    Here,  now,  is  a  piece  of  barbarism  which  Christ  and 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  89 

the  nineteenth  century  say  shall  cease,  and  which  Messrs.  Smith, 
Brown,  and  others  say  shall  not  cease.  I  would  by  no  means  deny  the 
eminent  respectability  of  these  gentlemen,  but  I  confess  that,  in  such  a 
wrestling-match,  I  cannot  help  having  my  fears  for  them. 

** Disciie  jusiiiiam,  moniti,  et  non  iemnere  divos." 

H.  W.] 


No.  VI. 
THE  PIOUS  EDITOR'S  CREED. 

[At  the  special  instance  of  Mr.  Biglow,  I  preface  the  following  satire 
with  an  extract  from  a  sermon  preached  during  the  past  summer,  from 
Ezekiel  xxxiv.  2: — "Son  of  man,  prophesy  against  the  shepherds  of 
Israel."  Since  the  Sabbath  on  which  this  discourse  was  delivered, 
the  editor  of  the  Jaalam  Independent  Blunderbuss  has  unaccountably 
absented  himself  from  our  house  of  worship. 

"  I  know  of  no  so  responsible  position  as  that  of  the  public  journalist. 
The  editor  of  our  day  bears  the  same  relation  to  his  time  that  the  clerk 
bore  to  the  age  before  the  invention  of  printing.  Indeed,  the  position 
which  he  holds  is  that  which  the  clergyman  should  hold  even  now.  But 
the  clergyman  chooses  to  walk  off  to  the  extreme  edge  of  the  world,  and 
to  throw  such  seed  as  he  has  clear  over  into  that  darkness  which  he  calls 
the  Next  Life.  As  if  next  did  not  mean  nearest,  and  as  if  any  life  were 
nearer  than  that  immediately  present  one  which  boils  and  eddies  all 
around  him  at  the  caucus,  the  ratification  meeting,  and  the  polls  !  Who 
taught  him  to  exhort  men  to  prepare  for  eternity,  as  for  some  future 
era  of  which  the  present  forms  no  integral  part  ?  The  furrow  which 
Time  is  even  now  turning  runs  through  the  Everlasting,  and  in  that 
must  he  plant,  or  nowhere.  Yet  he  would  fain  believe  and  teach  that 
we  are  going  to  have  more  of  eternity  than  we  have  now.  This  going 
of  his  is  like  that  of  the  auctioneer,  on  which  gone  follows  before  we 
have  made  up  our  minds  to  bid, — in  which  manner,  not  three  months 
back,  I  lost  an  excellent  copy  of  Chappelow  on  Job.  So  it  has  come 
to  pass  that  the  preacher,  instead  of  being  a  living  force,  has  faded  into 
an  emblematic  figure  at  christenings,  weddings,  and  funerals.     Or,  if 


90  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

he  exercise  any  other  function,  it  is  as  keeper  and  feeder  of  certain 
theologic  dogmas,  which,  when  occasion  offers,  he  unkennels  with  a 
staboy  I  '  to  bark  and  bite  as  'tis  their  nature  to,'  whence  that  reproach 
of  odium  theologicum  has  arisen. 

"  Meanwhile,  see  what  a  pulpit  the  editor  mounts  daily,  sometimes 
with  a  congregation  of  fifty  thousand  within  reach  of  his  voice,  and 
never  so  much  as  a  nodder,  even,  among  them  !  And  from  what  a 
Bible  can  he  choose  his  text, — a  Bible  which  needs  no  translation,  and 
which  no  priestcraft  can  shut  and  clasp  from  the  laity,  —  the  open 
volume  of  the  world,  upon  which,  with  a  pen  of  sunshine  or  destroying 
fire,  the  inspired  Present  is  even  now  writing  the  annals  of  God  ! 
Methinks  the  editor  who  should  understand  his  calling,  and  be  equal 
thereto,  would  truly  deserve  that  title  of  iroifi^jv  \aQv,  which  Homer 
bestows  upon  princes.  He  would  be  the  Moses  of  our  nineteenth 
century;  and  whereas  the  old  Sinai,  silent  now,  is  but  a  common 
mountain  stared  at  by  the  elegant  tourist,  and  crawled  over  by  the 
hammering  geologist,  he  must  find  his  tables  of  the  new  law  here 
among  factories  and  cities  in  this  Wilderness  of  Sin  (Numbers  xxxiii. 
12)  called  Progress  of  Civilisation,  and  be  the  captain  of  our  Exodus 
into  the  Canaan  of  a  truer  social  order. 

"Nevertheless,  our  editor  will  not  come  so  far  within  even  the 
shadow  of  Sinai  as  Mahomet  did,  but  chooses  rather  to  construe  Moses 
by  Joe  Smith.  He  takes  up  the  crook,  not  that  the  sheep  may  be  fed, 
but  that  he  may  never  want  a  warm  woollen  suit  and  a  joint  of  mutton. 

*  •  Immemor,  O,  Jidei,  pecorumque  oblite  tuorum ! " 

For  which  reason  I  would  derive  the  name  editor  not  so  much  from 
edo,  to  publish,  as  from  edo,  to  eat,  that  being  the  peculiar  profession  to 
which  he  esteems  himself  called.  He  blows  up  the  flames  of  political 
discord  for  no  other  occasion  than  that  he  may  thereby  handily  boil  his 
own  pot.  I  believe  there  are  two  thousand  of  these  mutton-loving 
shepherds  in  the  United  States,  and  of  these  how  many  have  even  the 
dimmest  perception  of  their  immense  power,  and  the  duties  consequent 
thereon  ?  Here  and  there,  haply,  one.  Nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine 
labour  to  impress  upon  the  people  the  great  principles  of  Tweealedum, 
and  other  nine  hundred  and  ninety-nine  preach  with  equal  earnestness 
the  gospel  according  to  Tweedledee." — H.  W.] 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  9.1 

I  Du  believe  in  Freedom's  cause, 

Ez  fur  away  ez  Payris  is ; 
I  love  to  see  her  stick  her  claws 

In  them  infarnal  Phayrisees ; 
It's  wal  enough  agin  a  king 

To  dror  resolves  an'  triggers, — 
But  libbaty's  a  kind  o'  thing 

Thet  don't  agree  with  niggers. 

I  du  believe  the  people  want 

A  tax  on  teas  an'  coffees, 
Thet  nothin'  aint  extravygunt, — 

Purvidin'  I'm  in  office ; 
Fer  I  hev  loved  my  country  sence 

My  eye-teeth  filled  their  sockets, 
An'  Uncle  Sam  I  reverence, 

Partic'larly  his  pockets. 


I  du  believe  in  any  plan 

O'  levyin'  the  taxes, 
Ez  long  ez,  like  a  lumberman, 

I  git  jest  wut  I  axes : 
I  go  free-trade  thru  thick  an'  thin. 

Because  it  kind  o'  rouses 
The  folks  to  vote, — an'  keeps  us  in 

Our  quiet  custom-houses. 

I  du  believe  it's  wise  an'  good 
To  sen'  out  furrin  missions, 

Thet  is,  on  sartin  understood 
An'  orthydox  conditions ; — 


9a  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

I  mean  nine  thousan'  dolls,  per  ann., 
Nine  thousan'  more  fer  outfit, 

An'  me  to  recommend  a  man 
The  place  'ould  jest  about  fit. 


I  du  believe  in  special  ways 

O'  prayin'  an'  convartin' ; 
The  bread  comes  back  in  many  days, 

An'  buttered,  tu,  fer  sartin ; 
I  mean  in  preyin'  till  one  busts 

On  wut  the  party  chooses, 
An'  in  convartin'  public  trusts 

To  very  privit  uses. 

I  du  believe  hard  coin  the  stuff 

Fer  'lectioneers  to  spout  on  \ 
The  people's  oilers  soft  enough 

To  make  hard  money  out  on  ; 
Dear  Uncle  Sam  pervides  fer  his, 

An'  gives  a  good-sized  junk  to  all, — 
I  don't  care  how  hard  money  is, 

Ez  long  ez  mine's  paid  punctooaL 

I  du  believe  with  all  my  soul 

In  the  great  Press's  freedom. 
To  pint  the  people  to  the  goal 

An'  in  the  traces  lead  'em ; 
Palsied  the  arm  thet  forges  yokes 

At  my  fat  contracts  squintin'. 
An'  withered  be  the  nose  thet  pokes 

Inter  the  gov'ment  printin'  I 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  93 

I  du  believe  thet  I  should  give 

Wut's  his'n  unto  Coesar, 
Fer  it's  by  him  I  move  an'  live, 

Frum  him  my  bread  an'  cheese  air ; 
I  du  believe  thet  all  o'  me 

Doth  bear  his  superscription, — 
Will,  conscience,  honour,  honesty, 

An'  things  o'  thet  description. 

I  du  believe  in  prayer  an'  praise 

To  him  thet  hez  the  grantin' 
O'  jobs, — in  every  thin'  thet  pays, 

But  most  of  all  in  Cantin'  ; 
This  doth  my  cup  with  marcies  fill. 

This  lays  all  thought  o'  sin  to  rest, — 
I  dorCt  believe  in  princerple, 

But  O,  I  du  in  interest. 


I  du  believe  in  bein'  this 

Or  thet,  ez  it  may  happen 
One  way  or  t'other  hendiest  is 

To  ketch  the  people  nappin'  j 
It  aint  by  princerples  nor  men 

My  preudunt  course  is  steadied, — 
I  scent  wich  pays  the  best,  an'  then 

Go  into  it  baldheaded. 


I  du  believe  thet  holdin'  slaves 
Comes  nat'ral  tu  a  Presidunt, 

Let  'lone  the  rowdedow  it  saves 
To  hev  a  wal-broke  precedunt  j 


94  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS, 

Fer  any  office,  small  or  gret, 

I  couldn't  ax  with  no  face, 
Without  I'd  ben,  thru  dry  an'  wet, 

Th'  unrizzest  kind  o'  doughface. 

I  du  believe  wutever  trash 

'11  keep  the  people  in  blindness, — 
Thet  we  the  Mexicuns  can  thrash 

Right  inter  brotherly  kindness, 
Thet  bombshells,  grape,  an'  powder  'n'  ball 

Air  good-will's  strongest  magnets, 
Thet  peace,  to  make  it  stick  at  all, 

Must  be  druv  in  with  bagnets. 

In  short,  I  firmly  du  believe 

In  Humbug  generally, 
Fer  it's  a  thing  thet  I  perceive 

To  hev  a  solid  vally ; 
This  heth  my  faithful  shepherd  ben. 

In  pasturs  sweet  heth  led  me. 
An'  this'll  keep  the  people  green 

To  feed  ez  they  hev  fed  me. 

[I  subjoin  here  another  passage  from  my  before-mentioned  discourse. 

"Wonderful,  to  him  that  has  eyes  to  see  it  rightly,  is  the  newspaper. 
To  me,  for  example,  sitting  on  the  critical  front  bench  of  the  pit,  in  my 
study  here  in  Jaalam,  the  advent  of  my  weekly  journal  is  as  that  of  a 
strolling  theatre,  or  rather  of  a  puppet-show,  on  whose  stage,  narrow  as 
it  is,  the  tragedy,  comedy,'  and  farce  of  life  are  played  in  little.  Behold 
the  whole  huge  earth  sent  to  mt  hebdomadally  in  a  brown-paper 
wrapper ! 

"  Hither,  to  my  obscure  corner,  by  wind  or  steam,  on  horseback  or 
dromedary-back,  in  the  pouch  of  the  Indian  runner,  or  clicking  over  the 
magnetic  wires,  troop  all  the  famous  performers  from  the  four  quarters 
al  the  glol)e.     Looked  at  from  a  point  of  criticism,  tiny  puppets  they 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  95 

seem  all,  as  the  editor  sets  up  his  booth  upon  my  desk  and  officiates  as 
showman.  Now  I  can  truly  see  how  little  and  transitory  is  life.  The 
earth  appears  almost  as  a  drop  of  vinegar,  on  which  the  solar  microscope 
of  the  imagination  must  be  brought  to  bear  in  order  to  make  out  any- 
thing distinctly.  That  animalcule  there,  in  the  pea-jacket,  is  Louis 
Philippe,  just  landed  on  the  coast  of  England.  That  other,  in  the 
grey  surtout  and  cocked  hat,  is  Napoleon  Bonaparte  Smith,  assuring 
France  that  she  need  apprehend  no  interference  from  him  in  the  present 
alarming  juncture.  At  that  spot,  where  you  seem  to  see  a  speck  of 
something  in  motion,  is  an  immense  mass-meeting.  Look  sharper,  and 
you  will  see  a  mite  brandishing  his  mandibles  in  an  excited  manner  j 
that  is  the  great  Mr.  Soandso,  defining  his  position  amid  tumultuous 
and  irrepressible  cheers.  That  infinitesimal  creature,  upon  whom  some 
score  of  others,  as  minute  as  he,  are  gazing  in  open-mouthed  admiration, 
is  a  famous  philosopher,  expounding  to  a  select  audience  their  capacity 
for  the  Infinite.  That  scarce  discernible  pufflet  of  smoke  and  dust  is  a 
revolution.  That  speck  there  is  a  reformer,  just  arranging  the  lever 
with  which  he  is  to  move  the  world.  And  lo,  there  creeps  forward  the 
shadow  of  a  skeleton  that  blows  one  breath  between  its  grinning  teeth, 
and  all  our  distinguished  actors  are  whisked  off  the  slippery  stage  into 
the  dark  Beyond. 

' '  Yes,  the  little  show-box  has  its  solemner  suggestions.  Now  and  then 
we  catch  a  glimpse  of  a  grim  old  man,  who  lays  down  a  scythe  and 
hour-glass  in  the  comer  while  he  shifts  the  scenes.  There,  too,  in  the 
dim  background,  a  weird  shape  is  ever  delving.  Sometimes  he  leans 
upon  his  mattock,  and  gazes,  as  a  coach  whirls  by,  bearing  the  newly- 
married  on  their  wedding  jaunt,  or  glances  carelessly  at  a  babe  brought 
home  from  christening.  Suddenly  (for  the  scene  grows  larger  and 
larger  as  we  look)  a  bony  hand  snatches  back  a  performer  in  the  midst 
of  his  part,  and  him,  whom  yesterday  two  infinities  (past  and  future) 
would  not  suffice,  a  handful  of  dust  is  enough  to  cover  and  silence  for 
ever.  Nay,  we  see  the  same  fleshless  fingers  opening  to  clutch  the 
showman  himself,  and  guess,  not  without  a  shudder,  that  they  are  lying 
m  wait  for  spectator  also. 

"Think  of  it:  for  three  dollars  a  year  I  buy  a  season-ticket  to  this 
great  Globe  Theatre,  for  which  God  would  write  the  dramas  (only  that 
we  like  farces,  spectacles,  and  the  tragedies  of  Apollyon  better),  whose 
scene-shifter  is  Time,  and  whose  curtain  is  rung  down  by  Death. 

"Such  thoughts  will  occur  to  me  sometimes  as  I  am  tearing  off  the 
wrapper  of  my  newspaper.     Then  suddenly  that  otherwise  too  often 


96  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

vacant  sheet  becomes  invested  for  me  with  a  strange  kind  of  awe. 
Look  !  deaths  and  marriages,  notices  of  inventions,  discoveries,  and 
books,  lists  of  promotions,  of  killed,  wounded,  and  missing,  news  of 
fires,  accidents,  of  sudden  wealth,  and  as  sudden  poverty.  I  hold  in 
my  hand  the  ends  of  myriad  invisible  electric  conductors,  along  which 
tremble  the  joys,  sorrows,  wrongs,  triumphs,  hopes,  and  despairs  of  as 
many  men  and  women  everywhere.  So  that  upon  that  mood  of  mind 
which  seems  to  isolate  me  from  mankind  as  a  spectator  of  their  puppet - 
pranks,  another  supervenes,  in  which  I  feel  that  I  too,  unknown  and 
unheard  of,  am  yet  of  some  import  to  my  fellows.  For,  through  my 
newspaper  here,  do  not  families  take  pains  to  send  me,  an  entire 
stranger,  news  of  a  death  among  them  ?  Are  not  here  two  who  would 
have  me  know  of  their  marriage  ?  And,  strangest  of  all,  is  not  this 
singular  person  anxious  to  have  me  informed  that  he  has  received  a 
fresh  supply  of  Dimitry  Bruisgins  ?  But  to  none  of  us  does  the  Present 
continue  miraculous  (even  if  for  a  moment  discerned  as  such).  We 
glance  carelessly  at  the  sunrise,  and  get  used  to  Orion  and  the  Pleiades. 
The  wonder  wears  off,  and  to-morrow  this  sheet,  in  which  a  vision  was 
let  down  to  me  from  Heaven,  shall  be  the  wrappage  to  a  bar  of  soap  or 
the  platter  for  a  beggar's  broken  victuals." — H.  W.] 


No.  VII. 
A    LETTER 

FROM  A  CANDIDATE  FOR  THE  PRESIDENCY  IN  ANSWER  TO 
SUTTIN  QUESTIONS  PROPOSED  BY  MR.  HOSEA  BIGLOW,  IN- 
CLOSED IN  A  NOTE  FROM  MR.  BIGLOW  TO  S.  H.  GAY,  ESQ., 
EDITOR   OF    THE   "NATIONAL    ANTI-SLAVERY  STANDARD." 

[Curiosity  may  be  said  to  be  the  quality  which  pre-eminently 
distinguishes  and  segregates  man  from  the  lower  animals.  As  we  trace 
the  scale  of  animated  nature  downward,  we  find  this  faculty  (as  it  may 
truly  be  called)  of  the  mind  diminished  in  the  savage,  and  quite  extinct 
in  the  brute.  The  first  object  which  civilised  man  proposes  to  himself  I 
take  to  be  the  finding  out  whatsoever  he  can  concerning  his  neighbours. 
Nihil  humanum  a  me  alienum  ptito ;  I  am  curious  about  even  John 


i 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS,  97 

Smith.  The  desire  next  in  strength  to  this  (an  opposite  pole,  indeed, 
of  the  same  magnet)  is  that  of  communicating  the  unintelligence  we 
have  carefully  picked  up. 

Men  in  general  may  be  divided  into  the  inquisitive  and  the  communi- 
cative. To  the  first  class  belong  Peeping  Toms,  eaves-droppers,  navel- 
contemplating  Brahmins,  metaphysicians,  travellers,  Empedocleses, 
spies,  the  various  societies  for  promoting  Rhinothism,  Columbuses, 
Yankees,  discoverers,  and  men  of  science,  who  present  themselves  to 
the  mind  as  so  many  marks  of  interrogation  wandering  up  and  down 
the  world,  or  sitting  in  studies  and  laboratories.  The  second  class  I 
should  again  subdivide  into  four.  In  the  first  subdivision  I  would  rank 
those  who  have  an  itch  to  tell  us  about  themselves, — as  keepers  of 
diaries,  insignificant  persons  generally,  Montaignes,  Horace  Walpoles, 
autobiographers,  poets.  The  second  includes  those  who  are  anxious  to 
impart  information  concerning  other  people, — as  historians,  barbers,  and 
such.  To  the  third  belong  those  who  labour  to  give  us  intelligence 
about  nothing  at  all, — as  novelists,  political  orators,  the  large  majority 
of  authors,  preachers,  lecturers,  and  the  like.  In  the  fourth  come  those 
who  are  communicative  from  motives  of  public  benevolence, — as  finders 
of  mares'-nests  and  bringers  of  ill  news.  Each  of  us  two-legged  fowls 
without  feathers  embraces  all  these  subdivisions  in  himself  to  a  greater 
or  less  degree,  for  none  of  us  so  much  as  lays  an  egg,  or  incubates  a 
chalk  one,  but  straightway  the  whole  barn-yard  shall  know  it  by  our 
cackle  or  our  cluck.  Omnibus  hoc  vitium  est.  There  are  different 
grades  in  all  these  classes.  One  will  turn  his  telescope  toward  a  back- 
yard, another  toward  Uranus  ;  one  will  tell  you  that  he  dined  with 
Smith,  another  that  he  supped  with  Plato.  In  one  particular,  all  men 
may  be  considered  as  belonging  to  the  first  grand  division,  inasmuch 
as  they  all  seem  equally  desirous  of  discovering  the  mote  in  theii 
neighbour's  eye. 

To  one  or  another  of  these  species  every  human  being  may  safely  be 
referred.  I  think  it  beyond  a  peradventure  that  Jonah  prosecuted  some 
inquiries  into  the  digestive  apparatus  of  whales,  and  that  Noah  sealed 
up  a  letter  in  an  empty  bottle,  that  news  in  regard  to  him  might  not 
be  wanting  in  case  of  the  worst.  They  had  else  been  super  or  subter 
human.  I  conceive,  also,  that,  as  there  are  certain  persons  who  con- 
tinually peep  and  pry  at  the  key-hole  of  that  mysterious  door  through 
which,  sooner  or  later,  we  all  make  our  exits,  so  there  are  doubtless 
ghosts  fidgetting  and  fretting  on  the  other  side  of  it,  because  they  have 
no  means  of  conveying  back  to  this  world  the  scraps  of  news  they  have 

7 


98  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

picked  up  in  that.  For  there  is  an  answer  ready  somewhere  to  every 
question,  the  great  law  of  ^ve  and  take  runs  through  all  nature,  and  if 
we  see  a  hook,  we  may  be  sure  that  an  eye  is  waiting  for  it.  I  read  in 
every  face  I  meet  a  standing  advertisement  of  information  wanted  in 
regard  to  A.  B. ,  or  that  the  fi-iends  of  C.  D.  can  hear  something  to  his 
disadvantage  by  application  to  such  a  one. 

It  was  to  gratify  the  two  great  passions  of  asking  and  answering  that 
epistolary  correspondence  was  first  invented.  Letters  (for  by  this  usurped 
title  epistles  are  now  commonly  known)  are  of  several  kinds.  First, 
there  are  those  which  are  not  letters  at  all, — as  letters-patent,  letters 
dimissory,  letters  inclosing  bills,  letters  of  administration,  Pliny's  letters, 
letters  of  diplomacy,  of  Cato,  of  Mentor,  of  Lords  Ljrttelton,  Chester- 
field, and  Orrery,  of  Jacob  Behmen,  Seneca  (whom  St.  Jerome  includes 
in  his  list  of  sacred  writers),  letters  from  abroad,  fi-om  sons  in  college  to 
their  fathers,  letters  of  marque  and  letters  generally,  which  are  in  nowise 
letters  of  mark.  Second,  are  real  letters,  such  as  those  of  Gray,  Cowper, 
Walpole,  Howel,  Lamb,  D.  Y.,  the  first  letters  from  children  (printed 
in  staggering  capitals).  Letters  from  New  York,  letters  of  credit,  and 
others,  interesting  for  the  sake  of  the  writer  or  the  thing  written.  I 
have  read  also  letters  from  Europe  by  a  gentleman  named  Pinto,  con- 
taining some  curious  gossip,  and  which  I  hope  to  see  collected  for  the 
benefit  of  the  curious.  There  are,  besides,  letters  addressed  to  posterity, 
— as  epitaphs,  for  example,  written  for  their  own  monuments  by 
monarchs,  whereby  we  have  lately  become  possessed  of  the  names  of 
several  great  conquerors  and  kings  of  kings,  hitherto  unheard  of  and 
still  unpronounceable,  but  valuable  to  the  student  of  the  entirely  dark 
ages.  The  letter  which  St.  Peter  sent  to  King  Pepin  in  the  year 
of  grace  755,  that  of  the  Virgin  to  the  magistrates  of  Messina,  that  of 
St.  Gregory  Thaumaturgus  to  the  D — 1,  and  that  of  this  last-mentioned 
active  police-magistrate  to  a  nun  of  Girgenti,  I  would  place  in  a  class 
by  themselves,  as  also  the  letters  of  candidates,  concerning  which  I 
shall  dilate  more  fully  in  a  note  at  the  end  of  the  following  poem.  At 
present,  sat  prata  biberunt.  Only,  concerning  the  shape  of  letters, 
they  are  all  either  square  or  oblong,  to  which  general  figures  circular 
letters  and  round-robins  also  conform  themselves. — H.  W.] 

Deer  sir  its  gut  to  be  the  fashun  now  to  rite  letters  to 
the  candid  8s  and  i  wus  chose  at  a  publick  Meetin  in  Jaalam 
to  du  wut  wus  nessary  fur  that  town,     i  writ  to  271  ginerals 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS,  99 

and  gut  ansers  to  209.  tha  air  called  candid  8s  but  I  don't 
see  nothin  candid  about  em.  this  here  i  which  I  send  wus 
thought  satty's  factory.  I  dunno  as  it's  ushle  to  print  Pos- 
crips,  but  as  all  the  ansers  I  got  hed  the  saim,  I  sposed  it 
wus  best,  times  has  gretly  changed.  Formaly  to  knock  a 
man  into  a  cocked  hat  wus  to  use  him  up,  but  now  it  ony 
gives  him  a  chance  fur  the  cheef  madgustracy, — H.  B. 

Dear  Sir, — You  wish  to  know  my  notions 

On  sartin  pints  thet  rile  the  land ; 
There's  nothin'  thet  my  natur  so  shuns 

Ez  bein'  mum  or  underhand ; 
I'm  a  straight-spoken  kind  o'  creetur 

Thet  blurts  right  out  wut's  in  his  head, 
An'  ef  I've  one  pecooler  feetur. 

It  is  a  nose  thet  wunt  be  led. 

So,  to  begin  at  the  beginnin', 

An'  come  direcly  to  the  pint, 
I  think  the  country's  underpinnin' 

Is  some  consid'ble  out  o'  jint ; 
I  aint  agoin'  to  try  your  patience 

By  tellin'  who  done  this  or  thet, 
I  don't  make  no  insinooations, 

I  jest  let  on  I  smell  a  rat. 

Thet  is,  I  mean,  it  seems  to  me  so. 

But,  ef  the  public  think  I'm  wrong, 
I  wunt  deny  but  wut  I  be  so, — 

An',  fact,  it  don't  smell  very  strong ; 
My  mind's  tu  fair  to  lose  its  balance 

An'  say  wich  party  hez  most  sense  ; 
There  may  be  folks  o'  greater  talence 

That  can't  set  stiddier  on  the  fence. 


loo  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

I'm  an  eclectic ;  ez  to  choosin' 

'Twixt  this  an'  thet,  I'm  plaguy  lawth ; 
I  leave  a  side  thet  looks  like  losin*, 

But  (wile  there's  doubt)  I  stick  to  both ; 
I  Stan'  upon  the  Constitution, 

Ez  preudunt  statesmun  say,  who've  planned 
A  way  to  git  the  most  profusion 

O'  chances  ez  to  ware  they'll  stand. 

Ez  fer  the  war,  I  go  agin  it, — 

I  mean  to  say  I  kind  o'  du, — 
Thet  is,  I  mean  that,  bein'  in  it, 

The  best  way  wuz  to  fight  it  thru ; 
Not  but  wut  abstract  war  is  horrid, 

I  sign  to  thet  with  all  my  heart, — 
But  civlyzation  does  git  forrid 

Sometimes  upon  a  powder-cart. 

About  thet  darned  Proviso  matter 

I  never  hed  a  grain  o'  doubt, 
Nor  I  aint  one  my  sense  to  scatter 

So'st  no  one  couldn't  pick  it  out ; 
My  love  fer  North  an'  South  is  equil, 

So  I'll  jest  answer  plump  an'  frank, — 
No  matter  wut  may  be  the  sequil, — 

Yes,  Sir,  I  am  agin  a  Bank. 


Ez  to  the  answerin'  o'  questions, 
I'm  an  off  ox  at  bein'  druv, 

Though  I  aint  one  thet  ary  test  shuns 
'11  give  our  folks  a  helpin'  shove ; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS,  lox 

Kind  o'  promiscoous  I  go  it 

Fer  the  holl  country,  an'  the  ground 

I  take,  ez  nigh  ez  I  can  show  it, 
Is  pooty  gen'ally  all  round. 


I  don't  appruve  o'  givin'  pledges ; 

You'd  ough'  to  leave  a  feller  free, 
An'  not  go  knockin'  out  the  wedges 

To  ketch  his  fingers  in  the  tree ; 
Pledges  air  awfle  breachy  cattle 

Thet  preudunt  farmers  don't  turn  out, — 
Ez  long  'z  the  people  git  their  rattle, 

Wut  is  there  fer'm  to  grout  about  ? 

Ez  to  the  slaves,  there's  no  confusion 

In  my  idees  consarnin'  them, — 
I  think  they  air  an  Institution, 

A  sort  of — yes,  jest  so, — ahem  : 
Do  /own  any?     Of  my  merit 

On  thet  pint  you  yourself  may  jedge  j 
All  is,  I  never  drink  no  sperit, 

Nor  I  haint  never  signed  no  pledge- 

Ez  to  my  princerples,  I  glory 

In  hevin'  nothin'  o'  the  sort ; 
I  aint  a  Wig,  I  aint  a  Tory, 

I'm  jest  a  candidate,  in  short ; 
Thet's  fair  an'  square  an'  parpendicler, 

But,  ef  the  Public  cares  a  fig 
To  hev  me  an'  thin'  in  particler, 

Wy,  I'm  a  kind  o'  peri-wig. 


I02  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS, 

P.  S. 

Ez  we're  a  sort  o'  privateerin', 

O'  course,  you  know,  it's  sheer  an'  sheer, 
An'  there  is  sutthin'  wuth  your  hearin' 

I'll  mention  in  your  privit  ear  ; 
Ef  you  git  me  inside  the  White  House, 

Your  head  with  ile  I'll  kin'  o'  'nint 
By  gittin'_>'^«  inside  the  Light-house 

Down  to  the  eend  o'  Jaalam  Pint. 

An'  ez  the  North  hez  took  to  brustlin' 

At  bein'  scrouged  frum  off  the  roost, 
I'll  tell  ye  wut'U  save  all  tusslin' 

An'  give  our  side  a  harnsome  boost, — 
Tell  'em  thet  on  the  Slavery  question 

I'm  RIGHT,  although  to  speak  I'm  lawth ; 
This  gives  you  a  safe  pint  to  rest  on, 

An'  leaves  me  frontin'  South  by  North. 

[And  now  of  epistles  candidatial,  which  are  of  two  kinds, — namely, 
letters  of  acceptance,  and  letters  definitive  of  position.  Our  republic,  on 
the  eve  of  an  election,  may  safely  enough  be  called  a  republic  of  letters. 
Epistolary  composition  becomes  then  an  epidemic,  which  seizes  one 
candidate  after  another,  not  seldom  cutting  short  the  thread  of  political 
life.  It  has  come  to  such  a  pass  that  a  party  dreads  less  the  attacks 
of  its  opponents  than  a  letter  from  its  candidate.  Litera  scripta  mane!, 
and  it  will  go  hard  if  something  bad  cannot  be  made  of  it.  General 
Harrison,  it  is  well  understood,  was  surrounded,  during  his  candidacy, 
with  the  cordon  sanitaire  of  a  vigilance  committee.  No  prisoner  in 
Spielberg  was  ever  more  cautiously  deprived  of  writing  materials.  The 
soot  was  scraped  carefully  from  the  chimney-places ;  outposts  of 
expert  rifle-shooters  rendered  it  sure  death  for  any  goose  (who  came 
clad  in  feathers)  to  approach  within  a  certain  limited  distance  of  North 
Bend;  and  all  domestic  fowls  about  the  premises  were  reduced  to. the 
condition  of  Plato's  original  man.      By  these  precautions  the  General 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  103 

was  saved.  Parva  componere  magnis,  I  remember  that,  when  party- 
spirit  once  ran  high  among  my  people,  upon  occasion  of  the  choice  of  a 
new  deacon,  I,  having  my  preferences,  yet  not  caring  too  openly  to 
express  them,  made  use  of  an  innocent  fraud  to  bring  about  that  result 
which  I  deemed  most  desirable.  My  stratagem  was  no  other  than  the 
throwing  a  copy  of  the  Complete  Letter- Writer  in  the  way  of  the  can- 
didate whom  I  wished  to  defeat.  He  caught  the  infection,  and 
addressed  a  short  note  to  his  constituents,  in  which  the  opposite  party 
detected  so  many  and  so  grave  improprieties  (he  had  modelled  it  upon 
the  letter  of  a  young  lady  accepting  a  proposal  of  marriage),  that  he  not 
only  lost  his  election,  but,  falling  under  a  suspicion  of  Sabellianism  and 
I  know  not  what  (the  widow  Endive  assured  me  that  he  was  a  Parali- 
pomenon,  to  her  certain  knowledge),  was  forced  to  leave  the  town. 
Thus  it  is  that  the  letter  killeth. 

The  object  which  candidates  propose  to  themselves  in  writing  is  to 
convey  no  meaning  at  all.  And  here  is  a  quite  unsuspected  pitfall  into 
which  they  successively  plunge  headlong.  For  it  is  precisely  in  such 
cryptographies  that  mankind  are  prone  to  seek  for  and  find  a  wonderful 
amount  and  variety  of  significance.  Omne  ignotum  pro  mirifico. 
How  do  we  admire  at  the  antique  world  striving  to  crack  those  oracular 
nuts  from  Delphi,  Hammon,  and  elsewhere,  in  only  one  of  which  can  I 
so  much  as  surmise  that  any  kernel  had  ever  lodged  ;  that,  namely, 
wherein  Apollo  confessed  that  he  was  mortal.  One  Didymus  is, 
moreover,  related  to  have  written  six  thousand  books  on  the  single 
subject  of  grammar,  a  topic  rendered  only  more  tenebrific  by  the  labours 
of  his  successors,  and  which  seems  still  to  possess  an  attraction  for 
authors  in  proportion  as  they  can  make  nothing  of  it.  A  singular 
loadstone  for  theologians,  also,  is  the  Beast  in  the  Apocalypse, 
whereof,  in  the  course  of  my  studies,  I  have  noted  two  hundred  and 
three  several  interpretations,  each  lethiferal  to  all  the  rest.  Non 
nostrum  est  tantas  componere  lites,  yet  I  have  myself  ventured  upon  a 
two  hundred  and  fourth,  which  I  embodied  in  a  discourse  preached  on 
occasion  of  the  demise  of  the  late  usurper.  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  and 
which  quieted,  in  a  large  measure,  the  minds  of  my  people.  It  is  true 
that  my  views  on  this  important  point  were  ardently  controverted  by 
Mr.  Shearjashub  Holden,  the  then  preceptor  of  our  academy,  and  in 
other  particulars  a  very  deserving  and  sensible  young  man,  though 
possessing  a  somewhat  limited  knowledge  of  the  Greek  tongue.  But 
his  heresy  struck  down  no  deep  root,  and,  he  having  been  lately 
removed    by    the    hand    of   Providence,    I    had  the    satisfaction    of 


I04  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

re-affirming  my  cherished  sentiments  in  a  sermon  preached  upon  the 
Lfird's  day  immediately  succeeding  his  funeral.  This  might  seem  like 
taking  an  unfair  advantage,  did  I  not  add  that  he  had  made  provision 
in  his  last  will  (being  celibate)  for  the  publication  of  a  posthumous 
tractate  in  support  of  his  own  dangerous  opinions. 

I  know  of  nothing  in  our  modern  times  which  approaches  so  nearly 
to  the  ancient  oracle  as  the  letter  of  a  Presidential  candidate.  Now, 
among  the  Greeks,  the  eating  of  beans  was  strictly  forbidden  to  all  such 
as  had  it  in  mind  to  consult  those  expert  amphibologists,  and  this  same 
prohibition  on  the  part  of  Pythagoras  to  his  disciples  is  understood  to 
imply  an  abstinence  from  politics,  beans  having  been  used  as  ballots. 
That  other  application,  quod  videlicet  sensus  eo  ciho  obtundi  existimaret, 
though  supported  pugnis  et  calcibus  by  many  of  the  learned,  and  not 
wanting  the  countenance  of  Cicero,  is  confuted  by  the  larger  experience 
of  New  England.  On  the  whole,  I  think  it  safer  to  apply  here  the  rule 
of  interpretation  which  now  generally  obtains  in  regard  to  antique 
cosmogonies,  myths,  fables,  proverbial  expressions,  and  knotty  points 
generally,  which  is,  to  find  a  common-sense  meaning,  and  then  select 
whatever  can  be  imagined  the  most  opposite  thereto.  In  this  way  we 
arrive  at  the  conclusion,  that  the  Greeks  objected  to  the  questioning  of 
candidates.  And  very  properly,  if,  as  I  conceive,  the  chief  point  be  not 
to  discover  what  a  person  in  that  position  is,  or  what  he  will  do,  but 
whether  he  can  be  elected.  Vos  exemplaria  Graca  nocturna  versate 
vianu,  versate  diuma. 

But,  since  an  imitation  of  the  Greeks  in  this  particular  (the  asking  of 
questions  being  one  chief  privilege  of  freemen)  is  hardly  to  be  hoped 
for,  and  our  candidates  will  answer  whether  they  are  questioned  or  not, 
I  would  recommend  that  these  ante-electionary  dialogues  should  be 
carried  on  by  symbols,  as  were  the  diplomatic  correspondences  of  the 
Scythians  and  Macrobii,  or  confined  to  the  language  of  signs,  like  the 
famous  interview  of  Panurge  and  Goatsnose.  A  candidate  might  then 
convey  a  suitable  reply  to  all  committees  of  inquiry  by  closing  one  eye, 
or  by  presenting  them  with  a  phial  of  Egyptian  darkness  to  be  speculated 
upon  by  their  respective  constituencies.  These  answers  would  be  sus- 
ceptible of  whatever  retrospective  construction  the  exigencies  of  the 
political  campaign  might  seem  to  demand,  and  the  candidate  could  take 
his  position  on  either  side  of  the  fence  with  entire  consistency.  Or,  if 
letters  must  be  written,  profitable  use  might  be  made  of  the  Dighton 
rock  hieroglyphic  or  the  cuneiform  script,  every  fresh  decipherer  of 
which  is  enabled  to  educe  a  different  meaning,  whereby  a  sculptured 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  105 

stone  or  two  supplies  us,  and  will  probably  continue  to  supply  posterity, 
with  a  very  vast  and  various  body  of  authentic  history.  For  even  the 
briefest  epistle  in  the  ordinary  chirography  is  dangerous.  There  is 
scarce  any  style  so  compressed  that  superfluous  words  may  not  be 
detected  in  it.  A  severe  critic  might  curtail  that  famous  brevity  of 
Caesar's  by  two-thirds,  drawing  his  pen  through  the  supererogatory  veni 
and  vidi.  Perhaps,  after  all,  the  surest  footing  of  hope  is  to  be  found  in 
the  rapidly  increasing  tendency  to  demand  less  .and  less  of  qualification 
in  candidates.  Already  have  statesmanship,  experience,  and  the  pos- 
session (nay,  the  profession,  even)  of  principles  been  rejected  as 
superfluous,  and  may  not  the  patriot  reasonably  hope  that  the  ability  to 
write  will  follow  ?  At  present,  there  may  be  death  in  pot-hooks  as  well 
as  pots,  the  loop  of  a  letter  may  suffice  for  a  bow-string,  and  all  the 
dreadful  heresies  of  Anti-slavery  may  lurk  in  a  flourish. — H.  W.] 


No.  VIII. 

A   SECOND    LETTER    FROM    B.    SAWIN,    ESQ. 

[In  the  following  epistle,  we  behold  Mr.  Sawin  returning,  a  miles 
emeritus,  to  the  bosom  of  his  family.  Quantum  mutatus  I  The  good 
Father  of  us  all  had  doubtless  intrusted  to  the  keeping  of  this  child  of 
his  certain  faculties  of  a  constructive  kind.  He  had  put  in  him  a  share 
of  that  vital  force,  the  nicest  economy  of  every  minute  atom  of  which  is 
necessary  to  the  perfect  development  of  Humanity.  He  had  given  him 
a  brain  and  heart,  and  so  had  equipped  his  soul  with  the  two  strong 
wings  of  knowledge  and  love,  whereby  it  can  mount  to  hang  its  nest 
under  the  eaves  of  heaven.  And  this  child,  so  dowered,  he  had  intrusted 
to  the  keeping  of  his  vicar,  the  State.  How  stands  the  account  of  that 
stewardship  ?  The  State,  or  Society  (call  her  by  what  name  you  will), 
had  taken  no  manner  of  thought  of  him  till  she  saw  him  swept  out  intc 
the  street,  the  pitiful  leavings  of  last  night's  debauch,  with  cigar-ends, 
lemon-parings,  tobacco-quids,  slops,  vile  stenches,  and  the  whole  loath- 
some next-morning  of  the  bar-room, — an  own  child  of  the  Almighty 
God  !  I  remember  him  as  he  was  brought  to  be  christened,  a  ruddy, 
rugged  babe;  and  now  there  he  wallows,  reeking,  seething, — the  dead 
corpse,  not  of  a  man,  but  of  a  soul, — a  putrefying  lump,  horrible  for  the 
life  that  is  in  it.     Comes  the  wind  of  heaven,  that  good  Samaritan,  and 


io6  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

parts  the  hair  upon  his  forehead,  nor  is  too  nice  to  kiss  those  parched. 
Clacked  lips;  the  morning  opens  upon  him  her  eyes  full  of  pitying 
sunshine,  the  sky  yearns  down  to  him, — and  there  he  lies  fermenting. 
O  sleep  !  let  me  not  profane  thy  holy  name  by  calling  that  stertorous 
unconsciousness  a  slumber  !  By-and-by  comes  along  the  State,  God's 
vicar.  Does  she  say, — "  My  poor,  forlorn  foster-child  !  Behold  here 
a  force  which  I  will  make  dig  and  plant  and  build  for  me  ?  "  Not  so, 
but, — "  Here  is  a  recruit  ready-made  to  my  hand,  a  piece  of  destroying 
energy  lying  unprofitably  idle."  So  she  claps  an  ugly  grey  suit  on  him, 
puts  a  musket  in  his  grasp,  and  sends  him  off,  with  Gubernatorial  and 
other  godspeeds,  to  do  duty  as  a  destroyer. 

I  made  one  of  the  crowd  at  the  last  Mechanics'  Fair,  and,  with  the 
rest,  stood  gazing  in  wonder  at  a  perfect  machine  with  its  soul  of  fire, 
its  boiler-heart  that  sent  the  hot  blood  pulsing  along  the  iron  arteries, 
and  its  thews  of  steeL  And  while  I  was  admiring  the  adaptation  of 
means  to  end,  the  harmonious  involutions  of  contrivance,  and  the  never- 
bewildered  complexity,  I  saw  a  grimed  and  greasy  fellow,  the  imperious 
engine's  lackey  and  drudge,  whose  sole  office  was  to  let  fall,  at  intervals, 
a  drop  or  two  of  oil  upon  a  certain  joint.  Then  my  soul  said  within  me. 
See  there  a  piece  of  mechanism  to  which  that  other  you  marvel  at  is  but 
as  the  rude  first  effort  of  a  child, — a  force  which  not  merely  suffices  to 
set  a  few  wheels  in  motion,  but  which  can  send  an  impulse  all  through 
the  infinite  future, — a  contrivance,  not  for  turning  out  pins,  or  stitching 
button-holes,  but  for  making  Hamlets  and  Lears.  And  yet  this  thing 
of  iron  shall  be  housed,  waited  on,  guarded  from  rust  and  dust,  and  it 
shall  be  a  crime  but  so  much  as  to  scratch  it  with  a  pin ;  while  the  other, 
with  its  fire  of  God  in  it,  shall  be  buffeted  hither  and  thither,  and  finally 
sent  carefully  a  thousand  miles  to  be  the  target  for  a  Mexican  cannon- 
ball.  Unthrifty  Mother  State !  My  heart  burned  within  me  for  pity  and 
indignation,  and  I  renewed  this  covenant  with  my  own  soul, — In  aliis 
mansuetus  era,  at,  in  blasphemiis  contra  Christum,  non  ita. — H.  W.] 

I  SPOSE  you  wonder  ware  I  be ;  I  can't  tell,  fer  the  soul  o'  me, 
Exacly  ware  I  be  myself, — meanin*  by  thet  the  holl  o'  me. 
Wen  I  left  hum,  I  hed  two  legs,  an'  they  worn't  bad  ones 

neither 
(The  scaliest  trick  they  ever  played  wuz  bringin'  on  me 

hither), 


THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS.  1 07 

Now  one  on  'em's  I  dunno  ware; — they  thought  I  wuz 

adyin', 
An'  sawed  it  off  because  they  said  'twuz  kin'  o'  mortifyin'; 
I'm  willin'  to  believe  it  wuz,  an'  yit  I  don't  see,  nuther, 
Wy  one  should  take  to  feelin'  cheap  a  minnit  sooner  'n 

t'other, 
Sence  both  wuz  equilly  to  blame ;  but  things  is  ez  they  be ; 
It  took  on  so  they  took  it  off,  an'  thet's  enough  fer  me : 
There's   one  good   thing,   though,    to   be   said   about   my 

wooden  nev  one, — 
The  liquor  can't  git  into  it  ez't  used  to  in  the  true  one ; 
So  it  saves  drink ;  an'  then,  besides,  a  feller  couldn't  beg 
A  gretter  blessin'  then  to  hev  one  oilers  sober  peg ; 
It's  true  a  chap's  in  want  o'  two  fer  follerin'  a  drum, 
But  all  the  march  I'm  up  to  now  is  jest  to  Kingdom  Come. 

I've  lost  one  eye,  but  thet's  a  loss  it's  easy  to  supply 
Out  o'  the  glory  thet  I've  gut,  fer  thet  is  all  my  eye ; 
An'  one  is  big  enough,  I  guess,  by  diligently  usin'  it, 
To  see  all  I  shall  ever  git  by  way  o'  pay  fer  losin'  it ; 
Off'cers,   I   notice,   who  git   paid  fer  all  our  thumps   an' 

kickins, 
Du  wal  by  keepin'  single  eyes  arter  the  fattest  pickins ; 
So,  ez  the  eye's  put  fairly  out  I'll  lam  to  go  without  it. 
An'  not  allow  myself  to  be  no  gret  put  out  about  it. 
Now,  le'  me  see,  thet  isn't  all;  I  used,  'fore  leavin'  Jalaam, 
To  count  things  on  my  finger-eends,  but  sutthin'  seems  to 

ail  'em : 
Ware's  my  left  hand?     O,  darn  it,  yes,  I  recollect  wut's 

come  on't; 
I  haint  no  left  arm  but  my  right,  an'  thet's  gut  jest  a  thumb 

on't; 
Jt  aint  so  hendy  ez  it  wuz  to  cal'late  a  sum  on't 


io8  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

I've  hed  some  ribs  broke, — six  (I  b'lieve), — I  haint  kep'  no 

account  on  'em ; 
Wen  pensions  git  to  be  the  talk,  I'll  settle  the  amount  on 

'em. 
An'  now  I'm  speakin'  about  ribs,  it  kin'  o'  brings  to  mind 
One  thet  I  couldn't  never  break, — the  one  I  lef  behind ; 
Ef  you  should  see  her,  jest  clear  out  the  spout  o'  your 

invention 
An'  pour  the  longest  sweetnin'  in  about  an  annooal  pension, 
An'  kin'  o'  hint  (in  case,  you  know,  the  critter  should  refuse 

to  be 
Consoled)  I  aint  so  'xpensive  now  to  keep  ez  wut  I  used  to 

be; 
There's  one  arm  less,  ditto  one  eye,  an'  then  the  leg  thet's 

wooden 
Can  be  took  oflf  an'  sot  away  wenever  ther's  a  puddin'. 

I  spose  you  think  I'm  comin'  back  ez  opperlunt  ez  thunder, 
With  shiploads  o'  gold  images  an'  varus  sorts  o'  plunder ; 
Wal,  'fore  I  vuUinteered,  I  thought  this  country  wuz  a  sort  o' 
Canaan,  a  reg'lar  Promised  Land  flowin'  with  rum  an'  water, 
Ware  propaty  growed  up  like  time,  without  no  cultivation. 
An'  gold  wuz  dug  ez  taters  be  among  our  Yankee  nation, 
Ware  nateral  advantages  were  pufficly  amazin'. 
Ware  every  rock  there  wuz  about  with  precious  stuns  wuz 

blazin', 
Ware  mill-sites  filled  the  country  up  ez  thick  ez  you  could 

cram  'em. 
An'  desput  rivers  run  about  abeggin'  folks  to  dam  'em ; 
Then  there  were  meetinhouses,  tu,  chockful  o'  gold  an' 

silver 
Thet  you  could  take,  an'  no  one  couldn't  hand  ye  in  no  bill 

fer; — 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  109 

Thet's  wut  I  thought  afore  I  went,  thet's  wut  them  fellers 
told  us 

Thet  stayed  to  hum  an'  speechified  an'  to  the  buzzards  sold 
us; 

I  thought  thet  gold  mines  could  be  gut  cheaper  than  Chiny 
asters, 

An'  see  myself  acomin'  back  like  sixty  Jacob  Astors ; 

But  sech  idees  soon  melted  down  an'  didn't  leave  a  grease- 
spot; 

I  vow  my  hoU  sheer  o'  the  spiles  wouldn't  come  nigh  a  V 
spot; 

Although,  most  any  wares  we've  ben,  you  needn't  break  no 
locks, 

Nor  run  no  kin'  o'  risks,  to  fill  your  pocket  full  o'  rocks. 

I  guess  I  mentioned  in  my  last  some  o'  the  nateral  feeturs 
O'  this  all-fiered  buggy  hole  in  th'  way  o'  awfle  creeturs, 
But  I  fergut  to  name  (new  things  to  speak  on  so  abounded) 
How  one  day  you'll  most  die  o'  thust,  an'  'fore  the  next  git 

drownded. 
The  clymit  seems  to  me  jest  like  a  teapot  made  o'  pewter 
Our  Prudence  hed,  thet  wouldn't  pour  (all  she  could  du)  to 

suit  her ; 
Fust  place  the  leaves  'ould  choke  the  spout,  so's  not  a  drop 

'ould  dreen  out. 
Then  Prude  'ould  tip  an'  tip  an'  tip,  till  the  holl  kit  bust 

clean  out, 
The  kiver-hinge-pin  bein'  lost,  tea-leaves  an'  tea  an'  kiver 
'ould  all  come  down  kerswosh t  ez  though  the  dam  broke  in 

a  river. 
Jest  so  't  is  here;   holl  months  there  aint  a  day  o'  rainy 

weather, 
An'  jest  ez  th'  officers  'ould  be  alayin'  heads  together 


1  lo  TIfE  BIGL O  W  PAPERS. 

Ez   t'   how   they'd   mix   their   drink   at  sech  a  mihngtary 

deepot, — 
'T  'ould  pour  ez  though  the  lid  wuz  off  the  everlastin'  teapot. 
The  cons'quence  is,  thet  I  shall  take,  wen  I'm  allowed  to 

leave  here, 
One  piece  o*  propaty  along, — an'  thet's  the  shakin'  fever ; 
It's  reggilar  employment,  though,  an'  thet  aint  thought  to 

harm  one, 
Nor  't  aint  so  tiresome  ez  it  wuz  with  t'other  leg  an'  arm  on ; 
An'  it's  a  consolation,  tu,  although  it  doosn't  pay. 
To  hev  it  said  you're  some  gret  shakes  in  any  kin'  o'  way. 
'Tworn't  very   long,    I   tell   ye   wut,   I   thought   o'   fortin- 

makin', — 
One  day  a  reg'lar  shiver-de-freeze,  an'  next  ez  good  ez 

bakin', — 
One   day  abrilin'   in    the    sand,    then    smoth'rin'  in    the 

mashes, — 
Git  up  all  sound,  be  put  to  bed  a  mess  o'  hacks  an'  smashes 
But  then,  thinks  I,  at  any  rate  there's  glory  to  be  hed, — 
Thet's  an  investment,  arter  all,  thet  mayn't  turn  out  so  bad; 
But  somehow,  wen  we'd  fit  an'  licked,  I  oilers  found  the 

thanks 
Gut  kin'  o'  lodged  afore  they  come  ez  low  down  ez  the 

ranks ; 
The  Gin'rals  gut  the  biggest  sheer,  the  Cunnles  next,  an'  so 

on, — 
We  never  gut  a  blasted  mite  o*  glory  ez  I  know  on ; 
An'  spose  we  hed,  I  wonder  how  you're  goin'  to  contrive  its 
Division  so's  to  give  a  piece  to  twenty  thousand  privits ; 
Ef  you  should  multiply  by  ten  the  portion  o'  the  brav'st 

one, 
You  wouldn't  git  more'n  half  enough  to  speak  of  on  a  grave- 
stun; 


i 


THE  BIGL  0  W  PAPERS.  1 1 1 

We  git  the  licks, — we're  jest  the  grist  thet's  put  into  War's 

hoppers ; 
Leftenants   is   the   lowest   grade   thet   helps   pick   up   the 

coppers. 
It  may  suit  folks  thet  go  agin  a  body  with  a  soul  in't, 
An'  aint  contented  with   a   hide   without   a   bagnet   hole 

in't; 
But  glory  is  a  kin'  o'  thing  /  shan't  persue  no  furder, 
Coz  thet's  the  off'cers  parquisite, — yourn's  on'y  jest   the 

murder. 

Wal,  arter  I  gin  glory  up,  thinks  I  at  least  there's  one 
Thing  in  the  bills  we  aint  hed  yit,  an'  thet's  the  glorious 

fun; 
Ef  once  we  git  to  Mexico,  we  fairly  may  presume  we 
All  day  an'  night  shall  revel  in  the  halls  o'  Montezumy. 
I'll  tell  ye  wut  my  revels  wuz,  an'  see  how  you  would  like 

'em; 
We  never  gut  inside  the  hall :  the  nighest  ever  /  come 
Wuz    stan'in'   sentry   in    the   sun   (an',    fact,   it   seemed  a 

cent'ry) 
A  ketchin'  smells  o'  biled  an'  roast  thet  come  out  thru  the 

entry, 
An'  hearin'  ez  I  sweltered  thru  my  passes  an'  repasses, 
A  rat-tat-too  o'  knives  an'  forks,  a  clinkty-clink  o'  glasses : 
I  can't  tell  off  the  bill  o'  fare  the  Gin'rals  hed  inside ; 
All   I   know   is,    thet   out   o'   doors  a   pair   o'   soles   wuz 

fried. 
An'  not  a  hunderd  miles  away  frum  ware  this  child  wuz 

posted, 
A  Massachusetts  citizen  wuz  baked,  an'  biled,  an'  roasted ; 
The  on'y  thing  like  revellin'  thet  ever  come  to  me 
Wuz  bein'  routed  out  o'  sleep  by  thet  darned  revelee. 


1 1 2  THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS. 

They  say  the  quarrel's  settled  now ;  far  my  part  I've  some 

doubt  on't, 
'T  '11  take  more  fish-skin  than  folks  think  to  take  the  rile 

clean  out  on't ; 
At  any  rate,  I'm  so  used  up  I  can't  do  no  more  fightin', 
The  on'y  chance  thet's  left  to  me  is  politics  or  writin'  j 
Now,  ez  the  people's  gut  to  hev  a  milingtary  man, 
An'  I  aint  nothin'  else  jest  now,  I've  hit  upon  a  plan ; 
The  can'idatin'  line,  you  know,  'ould  suit  me  to  a  T, 
An'  ef  I  lose,  'twunt  hurt  my  ears  to  lodge  another  flea ; 
So  I'll  set  up  ez  can'idate  for  any  kin'  o'  office 
(I  mean  fer  any  thet  includes  good  easy-cheers  an'  soffies ; 
Fer  ez  to  runnin'  fer  a  place  ware  work's  the  time  o'  day. 
You  know  thet's  wut  I  never  did, — except  the  other  way); 
Ef  if  s  the  Presidential  cheer  fer  wich  I'd  better  run, 
Wut  two  legs  any  wares  about  could  keep  up  with  my  one  ? 
There  aint  no  kin'  o'  quality  in  can'idates,  it's  said, 
So  useful  ez  a  wooden  leg, — except  a  wooden  head ; 
There's  nothin'  aint  so  poppylar — (wy,  it's  a  parfect  sin 
To  think  wut  Mexico  hez  paid  fer  Santy  Anny's  pin ;) — 
Then  I  haint  gut  no  princerples,  an',  sense  I  wuz  knee-high, 
I  never  did  hev  any  gret,  ez  you  can  testify ; 
I'm  a  decided  peace-man,  tu,  an'  go  agin  the  war, — 
Fer  now  the  hoU  on't's  gone  an'  past,  wut  is  there  to  go  for  ? 
Ef,  wile  you're  'lectioneerin'  round,  some  curus  chaps  should 

beg 
To  know  my  views  o'  state  affairs,  jest  answer  wooden 

leg! 
Ef  they  aint  settisfied  with  thet,  an'  kin'  o'  pry  an'  doubt, 
An'  ax  fer  sutthin'  deffynit,  jest  say  one  eve  put  out  ! 
Thet  kin'  o'  talk  I  guess  you'll  find'U  answer  to  a  charm. 
An'  when  you're  druv  tu  nigh  the  wall,  hoi'  up  my  missin' 

arm ; 


THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS,  1 1 3 

Ef  they  should  nose  round  fer  a  pledge,  put  on  a  vartoous 

look 
An'  tell  'em  thet's  percisely  wut  I  never  gin  nor — took ! 

Then  you  can  call  me  "Tirabertoes," — thet's  wut  the  people 

likes ; 
Sutthin'  combinin'  morril  truth  with  phrases  sech  ez  strikes; 
Some  say  the  people's  fond  o'  this,  or  thet,   or  wut  you 

please, — 
I  tell  ye  wut  the  people  want  is  jest  correct  idees ; 
"  Old  Timbertoes,"  you  see,  's  a  creed  it's  safe  to  be  quite 

bold  on, 
There's  nothin'  in't  the  other  side  can  any  ways  git  hold 

on; 
It's  a  good  tangible  idee,  a  sutthin'  to  embody 
Thet  valooable  class  o'  men  who  look  thru  brandy-toddy ; 
It  gives  a  Party  Platform,  tu,  jest  level  with  the  mind 
Of  all  right-thinkin',  honest  folks  thet  mean  to  go  it  blind ; 
Then  there  air  other  good  hooraws  to  dror  on  ez  you  need 

'em, 
Sech  ez  the  one-eyed  Slaterer,  the  bloody  Birdofredum; 
Them's  wut  takes  hold  o'  folks  thet  think,  ez  well  ez  o'  the 

masses, 
An'  makes  you  sartin  o'  the  aid  o'  good  men  of  all  classes. 

There's  one  think  I'm  in  doubt  about;   in  order  to  be 

Presidunt, 
It's  absolutely  ne'ssary  to  be  a  Southern  residunt ; 
The  Constitution  settles  thet,  an'  also  thet  a  feller 
Must  own  a  nigger  o'  some  sort,  jet  black,  or  brown,  or 

yeller. 
Now  I  haint  no  objections  agin  partickler  climes,. 
Nor  agin  ownin'  anythin'  (except  the  truth  sometimes), 

8 


114 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 


But,  ez  I  haint  no  capital,  up  there  among  ye,  may  be, 
You  might  raise  funds  enough  fer  me  to  buy  a  low-priced 

baby, 
An'  then,  to  suit  the  No'thern  folks,  who  feel  obleeged  to  say 
They  hate  an'  cuss  the  very  thing  they  vote  fer  every  day, 
Say  you're  assured  I  go  full  butt  fer  Libbaty's  diffusion 
An'  made  the  purchis  on'y  jest  to  spite  the  Institootion ; — 
But,  golly !  there's  the  currier's  boss  upon  the  pavement 

pawin' ! 
I'll  be  more  'xplicit  in  my  next 
Yourn, 

BIRDOFREDUM  SAWIN. 


[We  have  now  a  tolerably  fair  chance  of  estimating  how  the  balance- 
sheet  stands  between  our  returned  volunteer  and  glory.  Supposing 
the  entries  to  be  set  down  on  both  sides  of  the  account  in  fractional 
parts  of  one  hundred,  we  shall  arrive  at  something  like  the  following 
result : — 


B.  Sawin,  Esq.,  in  account  with  (Blank)  Glory, 
Cr. 

By  loss  of  one  leg 


do.       one  arm 
do.       four  fingers  . 
do.       one  eye 
the  breaking  of  six  ribs 
having  served  under  Colo 
nel  Gushing  one  month 


20    To  one  675th  three  cheers  in 
15  Faneuil  Hall 

5  ,,     do.  do.  on  occasion 
ID          of  presentation  of  sword 

6  to  Golonel  Wright  . 

,,  one  suit  of  grey  clothes 
44  (ingeniously  unbecoming) 

,,  musical  entertainments 
(drum  and  fife  six  months) 

,,  one  dinner  after  return    . 

,,  chance  of  pension   . 

,,  privilege  of  drawing  long- 
bow during  rest  of  natural 
life  .... 


Dr. 


30 


25 

15 

5 
I 
I 


23 


E.  E. 


THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS.  1 1 5 

It  would  appear  that  Mr.  Sawin  found  the  actual  feast  curiously  the 
reverse  of  the  bill  of  fare  advertised  in  Faneuil  Hall  and  other  places. 
His  primary  object  seems  to  have  been  the  making  of  his  fortune. 
Qu(Brenda  pecunia  primu77i,  virtus  post  nunimos.  He  hoisted  sail  for 
Eldorado,  and  shipwrecked  on  Point  Tribulation.  Quid  non  mortalia 
pectora  cogis,  auri  sacra  fames?  The  speculation  has  sometimes  crossed 
my  mind,  in  that  dreary  interval  of  drought  which  intervenes  between 
quarterly  stipendiary  showers,  that  Providence,  by  the  creation  of  a 
money-tree,  might  have  simplified  wonderfully  the  sometimes  perplex- 
ing problem  of  human  life.  We  read  of  bread-trees,  the  butter  for 
which  lies  ready  churned  in  Irish  bogs.  Milk-trees  we  are  assured  of 
in  South  America,  and  stout  Sir  John  Hawkins  testifies  to  water- 
trees  in  the  Canaries.  Boot-trees  bear  abundantly  in  Lynn  and 
elsewhere ;  and  I  have  seen,  in  the  entries  of  the  wealthy,  hat-trees 
with  a  fair  show  of  fruit.  A  family-tree  I  once  cultivated  myself, 
and  found  therefrom  but  a  scanty  yield,  and  that  quite  tasteless 
and  innutritious.  Of  trees  bearing  men  we  are  not  without 
examples  ;  as  those  in  the  park  of  Louis  the  Eleventh  of  France.  Who 
has  forgotten,  moreover,  that  olive-tree,  growing  in  the  Athenian's  back 
garden,  with  its  strange  uxorious  crop,  for  the  general  propagation  of 
which,  as  of  a  new  and  precious  variety,  the  philosopher  Diogenes, 
hitherto  uninterested  in  arboriculture,  was  so  zealous  ?  In  the  sylva  of 
our  own  Southern  States  the  females  of  my  family  have  called  my 
attention  to  the  china-tree.  Not  to  multiply  examples,  I  will  barely 
add  to  my  list  the  birch-tree,  in  the  smaller  branches  of  which  has  been 
implanted  so  miraculous  a  virtue  for  communicating  the  Latin  and 
Greek  languages,  and  which  may  well,  therefore,  be  classed  among  the 
trees  producing  necessaries  of  life, — venerabile  donum  fatalis  virga. 
That  money-trees  existed  in  the  golden  age  there  want  not  prevalent 
reasons  for  our  believing.  For  does  not  the  old  proverb,  when  it 
asserts  that  money  does  not  grow  on  every  bush,  imply  a  fortiori  that 
there  were  certain  bushes  which  did  produce  it?  Again,  there  is 
another  ancient  saw  to  the  effect  that  money  is  the  root  of  all  evil. 
From  which  two  adages  it  may  be  safe  to  infer  that  the  aforesaid  species 
of  tree  first  degenerated  into  a  shrub,  then  absconded  underground,  and 
finally,  in  our  iron  age,  vanished  altogether.  In  favourable  exposures 
it  may  be  conjectured  that  a  specimen  or  two  survived  to  a  great  age, 
as  in  the  garden  of  the  Hesperides ;  and,  indeed,  what  else  could  that 
tree  in  the  Sixth  ^Eneid  have  been,  with  a  branch  whereof  the  Trojan 
hero  procured  admission  to  a  territory,  for  the  entering  of  which  money 


1 1 6  THE  BIGL O  W  PAPERS. 

is  a  surer  passport  than  to  a  certain  other  more  profitable  (too)  foreign 
kingdom  ?  Whether  these  speculations  of  mine  have  any  force  in  them, 
or  whether  they  will  not  rather,  by  most  readers,  be  deemed  imper- 
tinent to  the  matter  in  hand,  is  a  question  which  I  leave  to  the 
determination  of  an  indulgent  posterity.  That  there  were,  in  more 
primitive  and  happier  times,  shops  where  money  was  sold, — and  that, 
too,  on  credit  and  at  a  bargain, — I  take  to  be  matter  of  demonstration. 
For  what  but  a  dealer  in  this  article  was  that  ^olus  who  supplied 
Ulysses  with  motive  power  for  his  fleet  in  bags  ?  What  that  Ericus, 
king  of  Sweden,  who  is  said  to  have  kept  the  winds  in  his  cap?  What, 
in  more  recent  times,  those  Lapland  Nomas  who  traded  in  favourable 
breezes?  All  which  will  appear  the  more  clearly  when  we  consider 
that,  even  to  this  day,  raising  the  wind  is  proverbial  for  raising  money, 
and  that  brokers  and  banks  were  invented  by  the  Venetians  at  a  later 
period. 

And  now  for  the  improvement  of  this  digression.  I  find  a  parallel 
to  Mr.  Sawin's  fortune  in  an  adventure  of  my  own.  For,  shortly  after 
I  had  first  broached  to  myself  the  before-stated  natural-historical  and 
archaeological  theories,  as  I  was  passing,  hac  negotia  penitus  tnecum 
revolvens,  through  one  of  the  obscure  suburbs  of  our  New  England 
metropolis,  my  eye  was  attracted  by  these  words  upon  a  sign-board, — 
Cheap  Cash-Store.  Here  was  at  once  the  confirmation  of  my 
speculations,  and  the  substance  of  my  hopes.  Here  lingered  the 
fragment  of  a  happier  past,  or  stretched  out  the  first  tremulous  organic 
filament  of  a  more  fortunate  future.  Thus  glowed  the  distant  Mexico 
to  the  eyes  of  Sawin,  as  he  looked  through  the  dirty  pane  of  the 
recruiting-office  window,  or  speculated  from  the  summit  of  that  mirage- 
Pisgah  which  the  imps  of  the  bottle  are  so  cunning  in  raising  up. 
Already  had  my  Alnaschar-fancy  (even  during  that  first  half-believing 
glance)  expended  in  various  useful  directions  the  funds  to  be  obtained 
by  pledging  the  manuscript  of  a  proposed  volume  of  discourses. 
Already  did  a  clock  ornament  the  tower  of  the  Jaalam  meeting-house,  a 
gift  appropriately,  but  modestly,  commemorated  in  the  parish  and  town 
records,  both,  for  now  many  years,  kept  by  myself.  Already  had  my 
son  Seneca  completed  his  course  at  the  University.  Whether,  for  the 
moment,  we  may  not  be  considered  as  actually  lording  it  over  those 
Baratarias  with  the  viceroyalty  of  which  Hope  invests  us,  and  whether 
we  are  ever  so  warmly  housed  as  in  our  Spanish  castles,  would  afford 
matter  of  argument.  Enough  that  I  found  that  sign-board  to  be  no 
other  than  a  bait  to  the  trap  of  a  decayed  grocer.     Nevertheless,  I 


I 


THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS.  1 1 7 

bought  a  pound  of  dates  (getting  short  weight  by  reason  of  immense 
flights  of  harpy  flies,  who  pursued  and  lighted  upon  their  prey  even  in 
the  very  scales),  which  purchase  I  made  not  only  with  an  eye  to  the 
little  ones  at  home,  but  also  as  a  figTirative  reproof  of  that  too  frequent 
habit  of  my  mind,  which,  forgetting  the  due  order  of  chronology,  will 
often  persuade  me  that  the  happy  sceptre  of  Saturn  is  stretched  over 
this  Astraea-forsaken  nineteenth  century. 

Having  glanced  at  the  ledger  of  Glory  under  the  title  Sawin,  B.,  let 
us  extend  our  investigations,  and  discover  if  that  instructive  volume 
does  not  contain  some  charges  more  personally  interesting  to  ourselves. 
I  think  we  should  be  more  economical  of  our  resources,  did  we 
thoroughly  appreciate  the  fact  that,  whenever  Brother  Jonathan  seems 
to  be  thrusting  his  hand  into  his  own  pocket,  he  is,  in  fact,  picking  ours. 
I  confess  that  the  late  viuck  which  the  country  has  been  running  has 
materially  changed  my  views  as  to  the  best  method  of  raising  revenue. 
If,  by  means  of  direct  taxation,  the  bills  for  every  extraordinary  outlay 
were  brought  under  our  immediate  eye,  so  that,  like  thrifty  house- 
keepers, we  could  see  where  and  how  fast  the  money  was  going,  we 
should  be  less  likely  to  commit  extravagancies.  At  present  these 
things  are  managed  in  such  a  hugger-mugger  way,  that  we  know  not 
what  we  pay  for ;  the  poor  man  is  charged  as  much  as  the  rich ;  and, 
while  we  are  saving  and  scrimping  at  the  spigot,  the  government  is 
[drawing  off  at  the  bung.  If  we  could  know  that  a  part  of  the  money 
iwe  expend  for  tea  and  coffee  goes  to  buy  powder  and  balls,  and  that  it 
is  Mexican  blood  which  makes  the  clothes  on  our  backs  more  costly,  it 
would  set  some  of  us  athinking.  During  the  present  fall  I  have  often 
pictured  to  myself  a  government  official  entering  my  study  and  handing 
me  the  following  bill : — 

Washington,  Sept.  30,  1848. 

Rev.  Homer  Wilbur  to  Itttcle  ^tttnttel.  Dr. 

To  his  share  of  work  done  in  Mexico  on  partnership  account, 

sundry  jobs,  as  below : — 
„  killing,  maiming,  and  wounding  about  5000  Mexicans  .     $2.00 

„  slaughtering  one  woman  carrying  water  to  wounded  .         .10 

„  extra  work  on  two  different  Sabbaths  (one  bombardment 
and  one  assault)  whereby  the  Mexicans  were  prevented 
from  defiling  themselves  with  the  idolatries  of  high  mass.  3.50 
n  throwing  an  especially  fortunate  and  Protestant  bombshell 
into  the  Cathedral  at  Vera  Cruz,  whereby  several  female 
Papists  were  slain  at  the  altar       .  .  .  .         .50 


1 1 8  THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS. 

To  his  proportion  of  cash  paid  for  conquered  territory    .            .  Sx.7S 

»            do.               do.            for  conquering     do.       .            .  1.50 
„  manuring  do.  with  new  superior  compost  called  "  American 

Citizen"  .......  .50 

„  extending  the  area  of  freedom  and  Protestantism      .            .  .01 

»  glory              .            .            .            .            ,            .            .  .01 


Immediate  payment  is  requested.  $9.87 

N.B. — Thankful  for  former  favours,  U.  S.  requests  a  continuance  of 
patronage.  Orders  executed  with  neatness  and  despatch.  Terms 
as  low  as  those  of  any  other  contractor  for  the  same  kind  and  style 
of  work. 

I  can  fancy  the  official  answering  my  look  of  horror  with, — "  Yes, 
Sir,  it  looks  like  a  high  charge,  Sir ;  but  in  these  days  slaughtering  is 
slaughtering."  Verily,  I  would  that  every  one  understood  that  it  was; 
for  it  goes  about  obtaining  money  under  the  false  pretence  of  being 
glory.  For  me,  I  have  an  imagination  which  plays  me  uncomfortable 
tricks.  It  happens  to  me  sometimes  to  see  a  slaughterer  on  his  way 
home  from  his  day's  work,  and  forthwith  my  imagination  puts  a 
cocked-hat  upon  his  head  and  epaulettes  upon  his  shoulders,  and  seta 
him  up  as  a  candidate  for  the  Presidency.  So,  also,  on  a  recent  public 
occasion,  as  the  place  assigned  to  the  "Reverend  Clergy"  is  jus! 
behind  that  of  "  Officers  of  the  Army  and  Navy  "  in  processions,  it  wa 
my  fortune  to  be  seated  at  the  dinn«r-table  over  against  one  of  thes 
respectable  persons.  He  was  arrayed  as  (out  of  his  own  profession) 
only  kings,  court-officers,  and  footmen  are  in  Europe,  and  Indians  in 
America.  Now  what  does  my  over-officious  imagination  but  set  tq 
work  upon  him,  strip  him  of  his  gay  livery,  and  present  him  to  mfl 
coatless,  his  trousers  thrust  into  the  tops  of  a  pair  of  boots  thick  wit 
clotted  blood,  and  a  basket  on  his  arm,  out  of  which  lolled  a  gore-] 
smeared  axe,  thereby  destroying  my  relish  for  the  temporal  mercie 
upon  the  board  before  me  ! — H.  W.] 


THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS.  119 

No.  IX. 

A   THIRD    LETTER    FROM    B.    SAWIN,    ESQ. 

[Upon  the  following  letter  slender  comment  will  be  needful.  In 
what  river  Selemnus  has  Mr.  Sawin  bathed,  that  he  has  become  so 
swiftly  oblivious  of  his  former  loves  ?  From  an  ardent  and  (as  befits  a 
soldier)  confident  wooer  of  that  coy  bride,  the  popular  favour,  we  see 
him  subside  of  a  sudden  into  the  (I  trust  not  jilted)  Cincinnatus, 
returning  to  his  plough  with  a  goodly-sized  branch  of  willow  in  his 
hand ;  figuratively  returning,  however,  to  a  figurative  plough,  and  from 
no  profound  affection  for  that  honoured  implement  of  husbandry  (for 
which,  indeed,  Mr.  Sawin  never  displayed  any  decided  predilection), 
but  in  order  to  be  gracefully  summoned  therefrom  to  more  congenial 
labours.  It  would  seem  that  the  character  of  the  ancient  Dictator  had 
become  part  of  the  recognised  stock  of  our  modern  political  comedy, 
though,  as  our  term  of  oflSce  extends  to  a  quadrennial  length,  the 
parallel  is  not  so  minutely  exact  as  could  be  desired.  It  is  sufficiently 
so,  however,  for  purposes  of  scenic  representation.  An  humble  cottage 
(if  built  of  logs,  the  better)  forms  the  Arcadian  background  of  the  stage. 
This  rustic  paradise  is  labelled  Ashland,  Jaalam,  North  Bend,  Marsh- 
field,  Kinderhook,  or  Baton  Rouge,  as  occasion  demands.  Before  the 
door  stands  a  something  with  one  handle  (the  other  painted  in  proper 
perspective),  which  represents,  in  happy  ideal  vagueness,  the  plough. 
To  this  the  defeated  candidate  rushes  with  delirious  joy,  welcomed  as  a 
father  by  appropriate  groups  of  happy  labourers,  or  from  it  the  success- 
ful one  is  torn  with  difficulty,  sustained  alone  by  a  noble  sense  of  public 
duty.  Only  I  have  observed  that,  if  the  scene  be  laid  at  Baton  Rouge 
or  Ashland,  the  labourers  are  kept  carefully  in  the  background,  and  are 
heard  to  shout  from  behind  the  scenes  in  a  singular  tone  resembling 
ululation,  and  accompanied  by  a  sound  not  unlike  vigorous  clapping. 
This,  however,  may  be  artistically  in  keeping  with  the  habits  of  the 
rustic  population  of  those  localities.  The  precise  connection  between 
agricultural  pursuits  and  statesmanship  I  have  not  been  able,  after 
diligent  inquiry,  to  discover.  But  that  my  investigations  may  not  be 
barren  of  all  fruit,  I  will  mention  one  curious  statistical  fact,  which  I 
consider  thoroughly  established,  namely,  that  no  real  farmer  ever 
attains  practically  beyond  a  seat  in  General  Court,  however  theoretically 
qualified  for  more  exalted  station. 

It  is  probable  that  some  other  prospect  has   been  opened  to  Mr. 


1 20  TITE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS. 

Sawin,  and  thai  he  has  not  made  this  great  sacrifice  without  some 
definite  understanding  in  regard  to  a  seat  in  the  cabinet  or  a  foreign 
mission.  It  may  be  supposed  that  we  of  Jaalam  were  not  untouched  by 
a  feeling  of  villatic  pride  in  beholding'  our  townsman  occupying  so  large 
a  space  in  the  public  eye.  And  to  me,  deeply  revolving  the  qualifica- 
tions necessary  to  a  candidate  in  these  frugal  times,  those  of  Mr.  S. 
seemed  peculiarly  adapted  to  a  successful  campaign.  The  loss  of  a  leg, 
an  arm,  an  eye,  and  four  fingers,  reduced  him  so  nearly  to  the  condi- 
tion of  a  vox  et  prcelerea  nihil,  that  I  could  think  of  nothing  but  the 
loss  of  his  head  by  which  his  chance  could  have  been  bettered.  But 
since  he  has  chosen  to  baulk  our  suffrages,  we  must  content  ourselves 
with  what  we  can  get,  remembering  lactucas  non  esse  dandas,  dum 
cardui  sufficiant. — H.  W.] 

I  SPOSE  you  recollect  thet  I  explained  my  gennle  views 

In  the  last  billet  thet  I  writ,  'way  down  from  Veery  Cruze, 

Jest  arter  I'd  a  kind  o'  ben  spontanously  sot  up 

To  run  unanimously  fer  the  Presidential  cup ; 

O'  course  it  worn't  no  wish  o'  mine,  'twuz  ferflely  distressin', 

But  poppiler  enthusiasm  gut  so  almighty  pressin' 

Thet,  though  like  sixty  all  along  I  fumed  an'  fussed  an' 

sorrered. 
There  didn't  seem  no  ways  to  stop  their  bringin'  on  me 

forrerd : 
Fact  is,  they  udged  the  matter  so,  I  couldn't  help  admittin' 
The  Father  o'  his  Country's  shoes  no  feet  but  mine  'ould 

fit  in, 
Besides  the  savin'  o'  the  soles  for  ages  to  succeed, 
Seein'  thet  with  one  wannut  foot,  a  pair  'd  be  more  'n  I  need; 
An',  tell  ye  wut,  them  shoes  '11  want  a  thund'rin  sight  o' 

pat  chin', 
Ef  this  'ere  fashion  is  to  last  we've  gut  into  o'  hatchin' 
A  pair  o'  second  Washintons  fer  every  new  election, — 
Though,  fur  ez  number  one's  consarned,  I  don't  make  no 

objection. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  lax 

I  wuz  agoin'  on  to  say  thet  wen  at  fust  1  saw 

The  masses  would  stick  to't  I  wuz  the  Country's  father-'n- 

law, 
(They  would  ha'  hed  it  Father,  but  I  told  'em  't  wouldn't  du, 
Coz  thet  wuz  sutthin'  of  a  sort  they  couldn't  split  in  tu, 
An'  Washinton  hed  hed  the  thing  laid  fairly  to  his  door 
Nor  darsn't  say  'tworn't  his'n,  much  ez  sixty  year  afore), 
But  'taint  no  matter  ez  to  thet ;  wen  I  wuz  nomernated, 
'Tworn't  natur  but  wut  I  should  feel  consid'able  elated, 
An'  wile  the  hooraw  o'  the  thing  wuz  kind  o'  noo  an'  fresh, 
I  thought  our  ticket  would  ha'  caird  the  country  with  a  resh. 

Sence  I've  come  hum,  though,  an'  looked  round,  I  think  I 

seem  to  find 
Strong  argimunts  ez  thick  ez  fleas  to  make  me  change  my 

mind; 
It's  clear  to  any  one  whose  brain  aint  fur  gone  in  a  phthisis, 
Thet  hail  Columby's  happy  land  is  goin'  thru  a  crisis. 
An'  'twouldn't  noways  du  to  hev  the  people's  mind  dis 

tracted 
By  bein'  all  to  once  by  sev'ral  pop'lar  names  attackted ; 
'Twould  save  holl  haycartloads  o'  fuss  an'  three  four  months 

o'  jaw, 
Ef  some  illustrous  paytriot  should  back  out  an'  withdraw ; 
So,  ez  I  aint  a  crooked  stick,  jest  like — like  ole  (I  swow, 
I  dunno  ez  I  know  his  name) — I'll  go  back  to  my  plough. 

Wenever  an  Amerikin  distinguished  politishin 
Begins  to  try  et  wut  they  call  definin'  his  posishin, 
Wal,  I,  fer  one,  feel  sure  he  aint  gut  nothin'  to  define ; 
It's  so  nine  cases  out  o'  ten,  but  jest  that  tenth  is  mine ; 
An'  'taint  no  more'n  is  proper  'n'  right  in  sech  a  sitooation 
To  hint  the  course  you  think  '11  be  the  savin'  o'  the  nation ; 


I2a  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

To  funk  right  out  o'  p'lit'cal  strife  aint  thought  to  be  the 

thing, 
Without  you  deacon  off  the  toon  you  want  your  folks  should 

sing; 
So  I  edvise  the  noomrous  friends  thet's  in  one  boat  with  me 
To  jest  up  killock,  jam  right  down  their  helium  hard  a  lee, 
Haul  the  sheets  taut,  an',  laying  out  upon  the  Suthun  tack, 
Make  fer  the  safest  port  they  can,  wich,  /  think,  is  Ole  Zack. 

Next  thing  you'll  want  to  know,  I  spose,  wut  argimunts  I 

seem 
To  see  thet  makes  me  think  this  ere'U  be  the  strongest 

team ; 
Fust  place,    I've  ben  consid'ble  round  in  bar-rooms   an' 

saloons 
Agethrin'   public    sentiment,    'mongst    Demmercrats    and 

Coons, 
An'  'taint  ve'y  offen  thet  I  meet  a  chap  but  wut  goes  in 
Fer  Rough  an'  Ready,  fair  an'  square,  hufs,  taller,  horns, 

an'  skin ; 
I  don't  deny  but  wut,  fer  one,  ez  fur  ez  I  could  see, 
I  didn't  like  at  fust  the  Pheladelphy  nomernee: 
I  could  ha'  pinted  to  a  man  thet  wuz,  I  guess,  a  peg 
Higher  than  him, — a  soger,  tu,  an'  with  a  wooden  leg ; 
But  every  day  with  more   an'  more   o'  Taylor  zeal   I'm 

burnin', 
Seein'  wich  way  the  tide  thet  sets  to  office  is  aturnin' ; 
Wy,  into  Bellers's  we  notched  the  votes  down  on  three 

sticks, — 
'Twuz  Birdofredum  one,  Cass  aughi,  an'  Taylor  iwenty-siXy 
An'  bein'  the  on'y  canderdate  thet  wuz  upon  the  ground, 
They  said  'twuz  no  more'n  right  thet  I  should  pay  the 

drinks  all  round ; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  123 

Ef  I'd  expected  sech  a  trick,  I  wouldn't  ha'  cut  my  foot 
By  goin'  an'  votin'  fer  myself  like  a  consumed  coot ; 
It  didn't  make  no  diff'rence,  though;  I  wish  I  may  be  oust, 
Ef  Bellers  wuzn't  slim  enough  to  say  he  wouldn't  trust ! 

Another  pint  thet  influences  the  minds  o'  sober  jedges 

Is   thet   the   Gin'ral   hezn't   gut   tied   hand   an'  foot   with 

pledges ; 
He  hezn't  told  ye  wut  he  is,  an'  so  there  aint  no  knowin' 
But  wut  he  may  turn  out  to  be  the  best  there  is  agoin' ; 
This,  at  the  on'y  spot  thet  pinched,  the  shoe  directly  eases, 
Coz  every  one  is  free  to  'xpect  percisely  wut  he  pleases : 
I  want  free-trade;  you  don't;   the  Gin'ral  isn't  bound  to 

neither ; — 
I  vote  my  way ;  you,  yourn ;  an'  both  air  sooted  to  a  T 

there. 
Ole  Rough  an'  Ready,  tu,  's  a  Wig,  but  without  bein'  ultry 
(He's   like   a   holsome   hayinday,   thet's    warm,    but    isn't 

sultry) ; 
He's  jest  wut  I  should  call  myself,  a  kin'  o'  scratch,  ez 

'tware, 
Thet  aint  exacly  all  a  wig  nor  wholly  your  own  hair ; 
I've  ben  a  Wig  three  weeks  myself,  jest  o'  this  mod'rate  sort. 
An'  don't  find  them  an'  Demmercrats  so  different   ez   I 

thought ; 
They  both  act  pooty  much  alike,  an'  push  an'  scrouge  an' 

cus; 
They're  like  two  pickpockets  in  league  fer  Uncle  Samwell's 

pus; 
Each  takes  a  side,  an'  then  they  squeeze  the  old  man  in 

between  'em, 
Turn  all  his  pockets  wrong  side  out  an'  quick  ez  lightnin' 

clean  'em ; 


124  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

To  nary  one  on  'em  I'd  trust  a  secon'-handed  rail 
No  furder  off  'an  I  could  sling  a  bullock  by  the  tail. 

Webster  sot  matters  right  in  thet  air  Mashfiel'  speech  o' 

his'n ; — 
"Taylor,"   sez  he,    "aint  nary  ways  the  one  thet  I'd  a 

chizzen, 
Nor  he  aint  fittin'  fer  the  place,  an'  like  ez  not  he  aint 
No  more'n  a  tough  old  buUethead,  an'  no  gret  of  a  saint; 
But  then,"  sez  he,  "  obsarve  my  pint,  he's  jest  ez  good  to 

vote  fer 
Ez  though  the  greasin'  on  him  worn't  a  thing  to  hire  Choate 

fer; 
Aint  it  ez  easy  done  to  drop  a  ballot  in  a  box 
Fer  one  ez*!  is  fer  t'other,  fer  the  bulldog  ez  the  fox  ?  " 
It  takes  a  mind  like  Dannel's,  fact,  ez  big  ez  all  ou*  doors. 
To  find  out  thet  it  looks  like  rain  arter  it  fairly  pours ; 
I  'gree  with  him,  it  aint  so  dreffle  troublesome  to  vote 
Fer  Taylor  arter  all, — it's  jest  to  go  an'  change  your  coat ; 
Wen  he's  once  greased,  you'll  swaller  him  an'  never  know 

on't  source. 
Unless  he  scratches,  goin'  down,  with  them  'ere  Gin'ral's 

spurs. 
I've  ben  a  votin'  Demmercrat,  ez  reg'lar  ez  a  clock, 
But  don't  find  goin*  Taylor  gives  my  narves  no  gret  'f  a 

shock ; 
Truth  is,  the  cutest  leadin'  Wigs,  ever  sence  fust  they  found 
Wich  side  the  bread   gut  buttered  on,  hev  kep'  a  edgin* 

round ; 
They  kin'  o'  slipt  the  planks  frum  out  th'  ole  platform  one 

by  one 
An'  made  it  gradooally  noo,  'fore  folks  know'd  wut  wuz 

done, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  125 

Till,  fur'z  I  know,  there  aint  an  inch  thet  I  could  lay  my 

han'  on 
But  I,  or  any  Demmercrat,  feels  comf'table  to  stan'  on, 
An'  ole  Wig  doctrines   act'lly  look,  their   occ'pants  bein' 

gone. 
Lonesome  ez  staddles  on  a  mash  without  no  hayricks  on. 

I  spose  it's  time  now  I  should  give  my  thoughts  upon  the 

plan, 
Thet  chipped  the  shell  at  Buffalo,  o'  settin'  up  ole  Van. 
I  used  to  vote  fer  Martin,  but,  I  swan,  I'm  clean  disgusted, — 
He  aint  the  man  thet  I  can  say  is  fittin'  to  be  trusted ; 
He  aint  half  antislav'ry  'nough,  nor  I  aint  sure,  ez  some  be, 
He'd  go  in  fer  abolishin'  the  Deestrick  o'  Columby; 
An',  now  I  come  to  recollect,  it  kin'  o'  makes  me  sick'z 
A  horse,  to  think  o'  wut  he  wuz  in  eighteen  thirty-six. 
An'  then,  another  thing ; — I  guess,  though  mebby  I  am 

wrong, 
This  Buff'lo  plaster  aint  agoin'  to  dror  almighty  strong ; 
Some  folks,  I  know,  hev  gut  th'  idee  thet  No'thun  dough  '11 

rise, 
Though,  'fore  I  see  it  riz  an'  baked,  I  wouldn't  trust  my 

eyes; 
'Twill  take  more  emptins,  a  long  chalk,  than  this  noo  party's 

gut, 
To  give  sech  heavy  cakes  ez  them  a  start,  I  tell  ye  wut. 
But  even   ef  they  caird  the  day,  there   wouldn't  be  no 

endurin' 
To  Stan'  upon  a  platform  with  sech  critters  ez  Van  Buren  ; — 
An'  his  son  John,   tu,   I  can't  think  how  thet  'ere  chap 

should  dare 
To  speak  ez  he  doos ;  wy,  they  say  he  used  to  cuss  an' 

swear  I 


126  THE  BIGL 0  W  PAPERS. 

I  spose  he  never  read  the  hymn  thet  tells  how  down  the 

stairs 
A  feller  with  long  legs  wuz  throwed  thet  wouldn't  say  his 

prayers. 
This  brings  me  to  another  pint :  the  leaders  o'  the  party 
Aint  jest  sech  men  ez  I  can  act  along  with  free  an'  hearty ; 
They  aint  not  quite  respectable,  an'  wen  a  feller's  morrils 
Don't  toe  the  straightest  kin'  o'  mark,  wy,  him  an'  me  jest 

quarrils. 
I  went  to  a  free  soil  meetin'  once,  an'  wut  d'ye  think  I  see  ? 
A  feller  was  aspoutin'  there  thet  act'lly  come  to  me. 
About  two  year  ago  last  spring,  ez  nigh  ez  I  can  jedge. 
An'  axed  me  ef  I  didn't  want  to  sign  the  Temprunce  pledge ! 
He's  one  o'  them  that  goes  about  an'  sez  you  hedn't  ough'  ter 
Drink  nothin',  mornin',  noon,  or  night,  stronger  'an  Taunton 

water. 
There's  one  rule  I've  been  guided  by,  in  settlin'  how  to 

vote,  oilers, — 
I  take  the  side  thet  istit  took  by  them  consarned  teetotallers. 

Ez  fer  the  niggers,  I've  ben  South,  an'  thet  hez  changed  my 

mind ; 
A  lazier,  more  ongrateful  set  you  couldn't  nowers  find. 
You  know  I  mentioned  in  my  last  thet  I  should  buy  a  nigger, 
£f  I  could  make  a  purchase  at  a  pooty  mod'rate  figger ; 
So,    ez  there's  nothin'  in   the  world  I'm    fonder    of    'an 

gunnin', 
I  closed  a  bargin  finally  to  take  a  feller  runnin'. 
I  shou'dered  queen's-arm  an'  stumped  out,  an'  wen  I  come 

t'  th'  swamp, 
'Tworn't  very  long  afore  I  gut  upon  the  nest  o'  Pomp  ; 
1  come  acrost  a  kin'  o'  hut,  an',  playin'  round  the  door. 
Some  little  woolly-headed  cubs,  ez  many'z  six  or  more. 


J 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  127 

At  fust  I  thought  o'  firin',  but  think  twice  is  safest  oilers ; 
There  aint,  thinks  I,  not  one  on  'em  but's  wuth  his  twenty 

dollars, 
Or  would  be,  ef  I  hed  'em  back  into  a  Christian  land, — 
How  temptin'  all  on  'em  would  look  upon  an  auction-stand  ! 
(Not  but  wut  /  hate  Slavery  in  th'  abstract,  stem  to  starn, — 
I  leave  it  ware  our  fathers  did,  a  privit  State  consarn.) 
Soon'z  they  see  me,  they  yelled  an'  run,  but  Pomp  wuz  out 

ahoein' 
A  leetle  patch  o'  corn  he  hed,  or  else  there  aint  no  knowin' 
He  wouldn't  ha'  took  a  pop  at  me ;  but  I  hed  gut  the  start. 
An'  wen  he  looked,  I  vow  he  groaned  ez  though  he'd  broke 

his  heart ; 
He  done  it  like  a  white  man,  tu,  ez  nat'ral  ez  a  pictur, 
The  imp'dunt,  pis'nous  hypocrite  !  wus  'an  a  boy  constrictur. 
"  You  can't  gum  me,  I  tell  ye  now,  an'  so  you  needn't  try, 
I  'xpect  my  eye-teeth  every  mail,  so  jest  shet  up,"  sez  I. 
"  Don't  go  to  actin'  ugly  now,  or  else  I'll  jest  let  strip, 
You'd  best  draw  kindly,  seein'  'z  how  I've  gut  ye  on  the 

hip; 
Besides,  you  darned  ole  fool,  it  aint  no  gret  of  a  disaster 
To  be  benev'lently  druv  back  to  a  contented  master, 
Ware  you  hed  Christian  priv'ledges  you  don't  seem  quite 

aware  of. 
Or  you'd  ha'  never  run  away  from  bein'  well  took  care  of; 
Ez  fer  kin'  treatment,  wy,  he  wuz  so  fond  on  ye,  he  said 
He'd  give  a  fifty  spot  right  out,  to  git  ye,  'live  or  dead ; 
Wite  folks  aint  sot  by  half  ez  much  ;  'member  I  run  away. 
Wen  I  wuz  bound  to  Cap'n  Jakes,  to  Mattysqumscot  bay; 
Don'  know  him,  likely?     Spose  not;    wal,   the  mean  ole 

codger  went 
An'  offered — wut  reward,  think  ?    Wal.  it  worn't  no  less  'n  a 

cent." 


1 28  THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS. 

Wal,  I  jest  gut  'em  into  line,  an'  druv  'em  on  afore  me, 
The  pis'nous  brutes,  I'd  no  idee  o'  the  ill-will  they  bore  me; 
We  walked  till.som'ers  about  noon,  an'  then  it  grew  so  hot 
I  thought  it  best  to  camp  awile,  so  I  chose  out  a  spot 
Jest  under  a  magnoly  tree,  an'  there  right  down  I  sot ; 
Then  I  unstrapped  my  wooden  leg,  coz  it  begun  to  chafe, 
An'  laid  it  down  'long  side  o'  me,  supposin'  all  wuz  safe; 
I  made  my  darkies  all  set  down  around  me  in  a  ring. 
An'  sot  an'  kin'  o'  ciphered  up  how  much  the  lot  would 

bring ; 
But,  wile  I  drinked  the  peaceful  cup  of  a  pure  heart  an' 

mind 
(Mixed  with  some  wiskey,  now  an'  then),  Pomp  he  snaked 

up  behind, 
An'  creepin'  grad'lly  close  tu,  ez  quiet  ez  a  mink. 
Jest  grabbed  my  leg,  and  then  pulled  foot,  quicker  'an  you 

could  wink. 
An',  come  to  look,  they  each  on  'em  hed  gut  behin'  a  tree. 
An'  Pomp  poked  out  the  leg  a  piece,  jest  so  ez  I  could 

see, 
An'  yelled  to  me  to  throw  away  my  pistils  an'  my  gun. 
Or  else  thet  they'd  cair  off  the  leg,  an'  fairly  cut  an'  run. 
I  vow  I  didn't  b'lieve  there  wuz  a  decent  alligatur 
Thet  hed  a  heart  so  destitoot  o'  common  human  natur; 
However,  ez  there  worn't  no  help,  I  finally  give  in 
An'  heft  my  arms  away  to  git  my  leg  safe  back  agin. 
Pomp  gethered  all  the  weapins  up,  an'  then  he  come  an' 

grinned, 
He  showed  his  ivory  some,  I  guess,  an'  sez,  "You're  fairly 

pinned ; 
Jest  buckle  on  your  leg  agin,  an'  git  right  up  an'  come, 
*Twunt  du  fer  fammerly  men  like  me  to  be  so  long  from  j 

hum." 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  129 

At   fust   I  put   my   foot  right  down  an'  swore  I   wouldn't 

budge. 
"  Jest  ez  you  choose,"  sez  he,  quite  cool,  "  either  be  shot  or 

trudge." 
So  this   black-hearted    monster   took   an'   act'Uy  druv  me 

back 
Along  the  very  feetmarks  o'  my  happy  raornin  track, 
An'  kep'  me  pris'ner  'bout  six  months,  an'  worked  me,  tu, 

like  sin, 
Till  I  hed  gut  his  corn  an'  his  Carliny  taters  in ; 
He  made  me  larn  him  readin',  tu  (although  the  crittur  saw 
How  much  it  hut  my  morril  sense  to  act  agin  the  law), 
So'st  he  could  read  a  Bible  he'd  gut ;  an'  axed  ef  I  could 

pint 
The  North  Star  out ;  but  there  I  put  his  nose  some  out  o' 

jint, 
Fer  I  weeled  roun'  about  sou'west,  an',  lookin'  up  a  bit, 
Picked  out  a  middlin'  shiny  one  an'  tole  him  thet  wuz  it. 
Fin'lly,  he  took  me  to  the  door,  an'  givin'  me  a  kick, 
Sez, — "  Ef  you  know  wut's  best  fer  ye,  be  off,  now,  double- 
quick; 
The  winter-time's  a  comin'  on,  an',  though  I  gut  ye  cheap, 
You're  so  darned  lazy,  I  don't  think  you're  hardly  wuth 

your  keep; 
Besides,   the  childrin's  growin'  up,  an'  you  aint  jest  the 

model 
I'd  like  to  hev  'em  immertate,  an'  so  you'd  better  toddle  I " 

Now  is  there  any  thin'  on  airth  '11  ever  prove  to  me 
Thet  renegader  slaves  like  him  air  fit  fer  bein'  free? 
D'you  think  they'll  suck  me  in  to  jine  the  Buff 'lo  chaps,  an' 

them 
Rank  infidels  thet  go  agin  the  Scriptur'l  cus  o'  Shem  ? 

9 


130  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Not  by  a  jugfull !  sooner'n  thet,  I'd  go  thru  fire  an'  water; 
Wen  I  hev  once  made  up  my  mind,  a  meet'nhus  aint  sotter; 
No,  not  though  all  the  crows  thet  flies  to  pick  my  bones  wuz 

cawin', — 
I  guess  we're  in  a  Christian  land, — 

Yourn, 
BIRDOFREDUM  SAWIN. 

[Here,  patient  reader,  we  take  leave  of  each  other,  I  trust  with  some 
mutual  satisfaction.  I  say  patient,  for  I  love  not  that  kind  which  skims 
dippingly  over  the  surface  of  the  page,  as  swallows  over  a  pool  before 
rain.  By  such  no  pearls  shall  be  gathered.  But  if  no  pearls  there  be 
(as,  indeed,  the  world  is  not  without  example  of  books  wherefrom  the 
longest -winded  diver  shall  bring  up  no  more  than  his  proper  handful 
of  mud),  yet  let  us  hope  that  an  oyster  or  two  may  reward  adequate 
perseverance.  If  neither  pearls  nor  oysters,  yet  is  patience  itself  a  gem 
worth  diving  deeply  for. 

It  may  seem  to  some  that  too  much  space  has  been  usurped  by  my 
own  private  lucubrations,  and  some  may  be  fain  to  bring  against  me 
that  old  jest  of  him  who  preached  all  his  hearers  out  of  the  meeting- 
house save  only  the  sexton,  who,  remaining  for  yet  a  little  space,  from 
a  sense  of  official  duty,  at  last  gave  out  also,  and,  presenting  the  keys, 
humbly  requested  our  preacher  to  lock  the  doors,  when  he  should  have 
wholly  relieved  himself  of  his  -estimony.  I  confess  to  a  satisfaction  in 
the  self  act  of  preaching,  nuv  do  I  esteem  a  discourse  to  be  wholly 
thrown  away  even  upon  a  sleeping  or  unintelligent  auditory.  I  cannot 
easily  believe  that  the  Gospel  of  Saint  John,  which  Jacques  Cartier 
ordered  to  be  read  in  the  Latin  tongue  to  the  Canadian  savages,  upon 
his  first  meeting  with  them,  fell  altogether  upon  stony  ground.  For 
the  earnestness  of  the  preacher  is  a  sermon  appreciable  by  dullest 
intellects  and  most  alien  ears.  In  this  wise  did  Episcopius  convert 
many  to  his  opinions,  who  yet  understood  not  the  language  in  which  he 
discoursed.  The  chief  thing  is,  that  the  messenger  believe  that  he  has 
an  authentic  message  to  deliver.  For  counterfeit  messengers  that  mode 
of  treatment  which  Father  John  de  Piano  Carpini  relates  to  have  pre- 
vailed among  the  Tartars  would  seem  effectual,  and,  perhaps,  deserved 
enough.  For  my  own  part,  I  may  lay  claim  to  so  much  of  the  spirit 
of  martyrdom  as  would  have  led  me  to  go  into  banishment  with  those 


THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS.  1 3 1 

clergymen  whom  Alphonso  the  Sixth  of  Portugal  drave  out  of  his 
kingdom  for  refusing  to  shorten  their  pulpit  eloquence.  It  is  possible 
that,  having  been  invited  into  my  brother  Biglow's  desk,  I  may  have 
been  too  little  scrupulous  in  using  it  for  the  venting  of  my  own  peculiar 
doctrines  to  a  congregation  drawn  together  in  the  expectation  and  with 
the  desire  of  hearing  him. 

I  am  not  wholly  unconscious  of  a  peculiarity  of  mental  organisation 
which  impels  me,  like  the  railroad-engine  with  its  train  of  cars,  to  run 
backward  for  a  short  distance  in  order  to  obtain  a  fairer  start.  I  may 
compare  myself  to  one  fishing  from  the  rocks  when  the  sea  runs  high, 
who,  misinterpreting  the  suction  of  the  undertow  for  the  biting  of  some 
larger  fish,  jerks  suddenly,  and  finds  that  he  has  caught  bottom,  hauling 
in  upon  the  end  of  his  line  a  trail  of  various  algce,  among  which, 
nevertheless,  the  naturalist  may  haply  find  somewhat  to  repay  the  dis- 
appointment of  the  angler.  Yet  have  I  conscientiously  endeavoured  to 
adapt  myself  to  the  impatient  temper  of  the  age,  daily  degenerating 
more  and  more  from  the  high  standard  of  our  pristine  New  England. 
To  the  catalogue  of  lost  arts  I  would  mournfully  add  also  that  of  listen- 
ing to  two-hour  sermons.  Surely  we  have  been  abridged  into  a  race 
of  pigmies.  For,  truly,  in  those  of  the  old  discourses  yet  subsisting  to 
us  in  print,  the  endless  spinal  column  of  divisions  and  subdivisions  can 
be  likened  to  nothing  so  exactly  as  to  the  vertebrse  of  the  saurians, 
whence  the  theorist  may  conjecture  a  race  of  Anakim  proportionate  to 
the  withstanding  of  these  other  monsters.  I  say  Anakim  rather  than 
Nephelim,  because  there  seem  reasons  for  supposing  that  the  race  of 
those  whose  heads  (though  no  giants)  are  constantly  enveloped  in  clouds 
(which  that  name  imports)  will  never  become  extinct.  The  attempt  to 
vanquish  the  innumerable  heads  of  one  of  those  aforementioned  dis- 
courses may  supply  us  with  a  plausible  interpretation  of  the  second 
labour  of  Hercules,  and  his  successful  experiment  with  fire  aflfords  us  a 
useful  precedent. 

But  while  I  lament  the  degeneracy  of  the  age  in  this  regard,  I  cannot 
refuse  to  succumb  to  its  influence.     Looking  out  through  my  study- 
window,  I  see  Mr.  Biglow  at  a  distance  busy  in  gathering  his  Baldwins, 
of  which,  to  judge  by  the  number  of  barrels   lying  about  under  the 
.  trees,  his  crop  is  more  abundant  than  my  own, — by  which  sight  I  am 
;  admonished  to  turn  to  those  orchards  of  the  mind  wherein  my  labours 
1  may  be  more  prospered,  and  apply  myself  diligently  to  the  preparation 
;  of  my  next  Sabbath's  discourse. — H.  W.] 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 
{Second  Series.) 


BIRDOFREDUM  SAWIN,  ESQ.,  TO  MR.  HOSEA 
BIGLOW. 

LETTER    FROM    THE   REVEREND    HOMER   WILBUR,    M.A., 
INCLOSING   THE   EPISTLE   AFORESAID. 

JAALAM,  15th  Nov.  1861. 

It  is  not  from  any  idle  wish  to  obtrude  my  humble  person  with  undue 
prominence  upon  the  public  view  that  I  resume  my  pen  upon  the  present 
occasion.  Juniores  ad  labores.  But  having  been  a  main  instrument  in 
rescuing  the  talent  of  my  young  parishioner  from  being  buried  in  the 
ground,  by  giving  it  such  warrant  with  the  world  as  would  be  derived 
from  a  name  already  widely  known  by  several  printed  discourses  (all  of 
which  I  may  be  permitted  without  immodesty  to  state  have  been 
deemed  worthy  of  preservation  in  the  Library  of  Harvard  College  by 
my  esteemed  friend  Mr.  Sibley),  it  seemed  becoming  that  I  should  not 
only  testify  to  the  genuineness  of  the  following  production,  but  call  atten- 
tion to  it,  the  more  as  Mr.  Biglow  had  so  long  been  silent  as  to  be  in 
danger  of  absolute  oblivion.  I  insinuate  no  claim  to  any  share  in  the 
authorship  {vix  ea  nostra  vocd)  of  the  works  already  published  by  Mr. 
Biglow,  but  merely  take  to  myself  the  credit  of  having  fulfilled  toward 
them  the  office  of  taster  {experto  cede),  who,  having  first  tried,  could 
afterwards  bear  witness — an  office  always  arduous,  and  sometimes  even 
dangerous,  as  in  the  case  of  those  devoted  persons  who  venture  their 
lives  in  the  deglutition  of  patent  medicines  (dolus  latet  in  generalibus, 
there  is  deceit  in  the  most  of  them),  and  thereafter  are  wonderfully 
preserved  long  enough  to  append  their  signatures  to  testimonials  in  the 
diurnal  and  hebdomadal  prints.  I  say  not  this  as  covertly  glancing  at 
the  authors  of  certain  manuscripts  which  have  been  submitted  to  my 
literary  judgment  (though  an  epic  in  twenty-four  books  on  the  "  Taking 
of  Jericho  "  might,  save  for  the  prudent  forethought  of  Mrs.  Wilbur  in 
secreting  the  same  just  as  I  had  arrived  beneath  the  walls,  and  was 


136  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

beginning  a  catalogue  of  the  various  horns  and  their  blowers,  too 
ambitiously  emulous  in  longanimity  of  Homer's  list  of  ships,  might,  1 
say,  have  rendered  frustrate  any  hope  I  could  entertain  vacare  Musis 
for  the  small  remainder  of  my  days),  but  only  further  to  secure  myself 
against  any  imputation  of  unseemly  forthputting.  I  will  barely  subjoin, 
in  this  connection,  that,  whereas  Job  was  left  to  desire,  in  the  soreness 
of  his  heart,  that  his  adversary  had  written  a  book,  as  perchance  misan- 
thropically  wishing  to  indite  a  review  thereof,  yet  was  not  Satan 
allowed  so  far  to  tempt  him  as  to  send  Bildad,  Eliphaz,  and  Zophar 
each  with  an  unprinted  work  in  his  wallet  to  be  submitted  to  his  cen- 
sure. But  of  this  enough.  Were  I  in  need  of  other  excuse,  I  might 
add  that  I  write  by  the  express  desire  of  Mr.  Biglow  himself,  whose 
entire  winter  leisure  is  occupied,  as  he  assures  me,  in  answering 
demands  for  autographs,  a  labour  exacting  enough  in  itself,  and 
egregiously  so  to  him,  who,  being  no  ready  penman,  cannot  sign  so 
much  as  his  name  without  strange  contortions  of  the  face  (his  nose, 
even,  being  essential  to  complete  success),  and  painfully  suppressed 
Saint-Vitus-dance  of  every  muscle  in  his  body.  This,  with  his  having 
been  put  in  the  commission  of  the  Peace  by  our  excellent  Governor 
(C,  si  sic  omves  !)  immediately  on  his  accession  to  office,  keeps  him 
continually  employed.  IJaud  inexpertus  loqttor,  having  for  many 
years  written  myself  J. P.,  and  being  not  seldom  applied  to  for  speci- 
mens of  my  chirography,  a  request  to  which  I  have  sometimes  too 
weakly  assented,  believing  as  I  do  that  nothing  written  of  set  purpose 
can  properly  be  called  an  autograph,  but  only  those  unpremeditated 
sallies  and  lively  runnings  which  betray  the  fireside  Man  instead  of  the 
hunted  Notoriety  doubling  on  his  pursuers.  But  it  is  time  that  I 
should  bethink  me  of  Saint  Austin's  prayer.  Libera  me  a  meipso,  if  I 
would  arrive  at  the  matter  in  hand. 

Moreover,  I  had  yet  another  reason  for  taking  up  the  pen  myself.  I 
am  informed  that  the  Atlantic  Monthly  is  mainly  indebted  for  its 
success  to  the  contributions  and  editorial  supervision  of  Dr.  Holmes, 
whose  excellent  Annals  of  America  occupy  an  honoured  place  upon 
my  shelves.  The  journal  itself  I  have  never  seen  ;  but  if  this  be  so,  it 
should  seem  that  the  recommendation  of  a  brother  clergyman  (though 
par  ma^s  quam  similis)  would  carry  a  greater  weight.  I  suppose  that 
you  have  a  department  for  historical  lucubrations,  and  should  be  glad, 
if  deemed  desirable,  to  forward  for  publication  my  "Collections  for  the 
Antiquities  of  Jaalam,"  and  my  (now  happily  complete)  pedigree  of  the 
Wilbur    family  from    its  fons  et  ori^o,   the  Wild   Boar  of  Ardennes. 


THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS.  1 3  7 

Withdrawn  from  the  active  duties  of  my  profession  by  the  settlement  of 
a  colleague-pastor,  the  Reverend  Jeduthun  Hitchcock,  formerly  of 
I3rutus-Four-Corners,  I  might  find  time  for  further  contributions  to 
general  literature  on  similar  topics.  I  have  made  large  advances 
towards  a  completer  genealogy  of  Mrs.  Wilbur's  family,  the  Pilcoxes, 
not,  if  I  know  myself,  from  any  idle  vanity,  but  with  the  sole  desire  of 
rendering  myself  useful  in  my  day  and  generation.  Nulla  dies  sine 
lined.  I  inclose  a  meteorological  register,  a  list  of  the  births,  deaths, 
and  marriages,  and  a  few  meviojabilia  of  longevity  in  Jaalam  East 
Parish  for  the  last  half-century.  Though  spared  to  the  unusual  period 
of  more  than  eighty  years,  I  find  no  diminution  of  my  faculties  or 
abatement  of  my  natural  vigour,  except  a  scarcely  sensible  decay  of 
memory,  and  a  necessity  of  recurring  to  younger  eyesight  for  the  finer 
print  in  Cruden.  It  would  gratify  me  to  make  some  further  provision 
for  declining  years  from  the  emoluments  of  my  literary  labours — I  had 
intended  to  effect  an  insurance  on  my  life,  but  was  deterred  therefrom 
by  a  circular  from  one  of  the  offices,  in  which  the  sudden  deaths  of  so 
large  a  proportion  of  the  insured  was  set  forth  as  an  inducement,  that  it 
seemed  to  me  little  less  than  the  tempting  of  Providence.  Neque  in 
summd  inopii  levis  esse  senectus  potest,  ne  sapienti  qiddem. 

Thus  far  concerning  Mr.  Biglow;  and  so  much  seemed  needful 
{brevis  esse  laboro)  by  way  of  preliminary,  after  a  silence  of  fourteen 
years.  He  greatly  fears  lest  he  may  in  this  essay  have  fallen  below 
himself,  well  knowing  that,  if  exercise  be  dangerous  on  a  full  stomach, 
no  less  so  is  writing  on  a  full  reputation.  Beset  as  he  has  been  on  all 
sides,  he  could  not  refrain,  and  would  only  imprecate  patience  till  he 
shall  again  have  "got  the  hang"  (as  he  calls  it)  of  an  accomplishment 
long  disused.  The  letter  of  Mr.  Sawin  was  received  some  time  in  last 
June,  and  others  have  followed,  which  will  in  due  season  be  submitted 
to  the  public.  How  largely  his  statements  are  to  be  depended  on  I 
more  than  merely  dubitate.  He  was  always  distinguished  for  a  ten- 
dency to  exaggeration — it  might  almost  be  qualified  by  a  stronger  term. 
Fortiter  mentire,  aliquid  haret,  seemed  to  be  his  favourite  rule  of 
rhetoric.  That  he  is  actually  where  he  says  he  is,  the  postmark  would 
seem  to  confirm ;  that  he  was  received  with  the  public  demonstrations 
he  describes  would  appear  consonant  with  what  we  know  of  the  habits 
of  those  regions ;  but  further  than  this  I  venture  not  to  decide.  I  have 
sometimes  suspected  a  vein  of  humour  in  him  which  leads  him  to  speak 
by  contraries ;  but  since,  in  the  unrestrained  intercourse  of  private  life, 
I  have  never  observed  in  him  any  striking  powers  of  invention,  I  am  • 


138  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

the  more  willing  to  put  a  certain  qualified  faith  in  the  incidents  and  the 
details  of  life  and  manners  which  give  to  his  narrative  some  of  the 
interest  and  entertainment  which  characterises  a  Century  Sermon. 

It  may  be  expected  of  me  that  I  should  say  something  to  justify 
myself  with   the  world  for  a  seeming  inconsistency  with   my  well- 
known  principles  in  allowing  my  youngest  son  to  raise  a  company  for 
the  war,  a  fact  known  to  all  through  the  medium  of  the  public  prints. 
I  did  reason  with  the  young  man,  but  expellas  naiuram  fund,  tamen 
usqite  recurrit.     Having  myself  been  a  chaplain  in  1812,  I  could  the 
less  wonder  that  a  man  of  war  had  sprung  from  my  loins.     It  was, 
indeed,  grievous  to  send  my  Benjamin,  the  child  of  my  old  age ;  but 
after  the  discomfiture  of  Manassas,  I  with  my  own  hands  did  buckle 
on  his  armour,  trusting  in  the  great  Comforter  for  strength  according  to 
my  need.     For  truly  the  memory  of  a  brave  son  dead  in  his  shroud 
were  a  greater  staff  of  my  declining  years  than  a  coward,  though  his 
days  might  be  long  in  the  land,  and  he  should  get  much  goods.     It  is 
not  till  our  earthen  vessels  are  broken  that  we  find  and  truly  possess 
the  treasure  that  was  laid  up  in  them.     Migravi  in  animam  nuam,  I 
have  sought  refuge  in  my  own  soul ;  nor  would  I  be  shamed  by  the 
heathen  comedian  with  his  Nequam  illud  verbum,  bene  vult,  nisi  bene 
facit.     During  our  dark  days  I  read  constantly  in  the  inspired  book  of 
Job,  which  I  believe  to  contain  more  food  to  maintain  the  fibre  of  the 
soul  for  right  living  and  high  thinking  than  all  Pagan  literature  together, 
though  I  would  by  no  means  vilipend  the  study  of  the  classics.     There 
I  read  that  Job  said  in  his  despair,  even  as  the  fool  saith  in  his  heart 
there  is  no  God — "  The  tabernacles  of  robbers  prosper,  and  they  that 
provoke  God  are  secure  "  (Job  xii.  6).     But  I  sought  farther  till  I  found 
this  Scripture  also,  which  I  would  have  those  perpend  who  have  striven 
to  turn  our  Israel  aside  to  the  worship  of  strange  gods — "  If  I  did 
despise  the  cause  of  my  man-servant  or  of  my  maid-servant  when  they 
contended  vdth  me,  what  then  shall  I  do  when  God  riseth  up  ?  and 
when  he  visiteth,  what  shall  I  answer  him  ?  "  (Job  xxxi.   13,  14).     On 
this  text  I  preached  a  discourse  on  the  last  day  of  Fasting  and  Humilia- 
tion with  general  acceptance,  though  there  were  not  wanting  one  or  two 
Laodiceans  who  said  that   I  should  have  waited   till   the    President 
announced  his  policy.     But  let  us  hope  and  pray,  remembering  this  of 
Saint  Gregory,  Vult  Detts  rogart,  vult  cogi,  vult  qu&dam  importunitate 
vinci. 

We  had  our  first  fall  of  snow  on  Friday  last.     Frosts  have  been 
-  unusually  backward  this  fall.     A  singular  circumstance  occurred  in  this 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  139 

town  on  the  20th  October,  in  the  family  of  Deacon  Pelatiah  Tinkham. 
On  the  previous  evening,  a  few  moments  before  family  prayers, 

[The  editors  of  the  Atlantic  find  it  necessary  here  to  cut  short  the 
letter  of  their  valued  correspondent,  which  seemed  calculated  rather  on 
the  rates  of  longevity  in  Jaalam  than  for  less  favoured  localities.     They 
have  every  encouragement  to  hope  that  he  will  write  again.] 
With  esteem  and  respect, 

Your  obedient  Servant, 

HOMER  WILBUR,  A.M. 

It's  some  consid'ble  of  a  spell  sence  I  hain't  writ  no  letters, 
An'  ther'  's  gret  changes   hez  took  place  in   all   polit'cle 

metiers : 
Some  canderdates  air  dead  an'  gone,  an'  some  hez  ben 

defeated, 
Which  'mounts  to  pooty  much  the  same ;  fer  it's  ben  proved 

repeated 
A  betch  o'  bread  thet  hain't  riz  once  ain't  goin'  to  rise  agin. 
An'  it's  jest  money  throwed  away  to  put  the  emptins  in  : 
But  thet's  wut  folks  wun't  never  larn ;  they  dunno  how  to  go, 
Arter  you  want  their  room,  no  more'n  a  bullet-headed  beau ; 
Ther'  's  oilers  chaps  a-hangin'  roun'  thet  can't  see  pea-time's 

past, 
Mis'ble  as  roosters  in  a  rain,  heads  down  an'  tails  half-mast : 
It  ain't  disgraceful  bein'  beat,  when  a  holl  nation  doos  it. 
But  Chance  is  like  an  amberill, — it  don't  take  twice  to  lose  it. 

I  spose  you're  kin'  o'  cur'ous,  now,  to  know  why  I  hain't 

writ. 
Wal,  I've  ben  where  a  litt'ry  taste  don't  somehow  seem  to  git 
Th'  encouragement  a  feller 'd  think,  thet's  used  to  public 

schools, 
An'  where  sech  things  ez  paper  'n'  ink  air  clean  agin  the 

rules : 


I40  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

A  kind  o'  vicyvarsy  house,  built  dreffle  strong  an'  stout, 
So  *s  't  honest  people  can't  git  in,  ner  t'  other  sort  git  out, 
An'  with  the  winders  so  contrived,  you'd  prob'ly  like  the 

view 
Better  a-lookin'  in  than  out,  though  it  seems  sing'lar,  tu ; 
But  then  the  landlord  sets  by  ye,   can't  bear   ye  out   o' 

sight, 
And  locks  ye  up  ez  reg'lar  ez  an  outside  door  at  night 

This  world  is  awfle  contrary :    the  rope  may  stretch  your 

neck 
Thet  mebby  kep'  another  chap  frum  washin'  off  a  wreck ; 
An'  you  will  see  the  taters  grow  in  one  poor  feller's  patch. 
So  small  no  self-respectin'  hen  thet  vallied  time  'ould  scratch, 
So  small  the  rot  can't  find  'em  out,  an'  then   agin,  nex' 

door, 
Ez  big  ez  wut  hogs  dream  on  when  they're  'most  too  fat  to 

snore. 
But  groutin'  ain't  no  kin'  o'  use ;  an*  ef  the  fust  throw  fails. 
Why,  up  an'  try  agin,  thet's  all, — the  coppers  ain't  all  tails  j 
Though  I  hev   seen  'em  when  I  thought  they    hedn't  no 

more  head 
Than  'd  sarve  a  nussin'  Brigadier  thet  gits  some  ink  to  shed. 

When  I  writ  last,   I'd  ben  turned  loose  by  thet  blamed 

nigger,  Pomp, 
Ferlorner  than  a  musquash,  ef  you'd  took  an'  dreened  his 

swamp : 
But  I  ain't  o'  the  meechin*  kind,  thet  sets  an'  thinks  fer 

weeks 
The  bottom's  out  o'  th'  univarse  coz  their  own  gill-pot  leaks. 
I  hed  to  cross  bayous  an'  criks  (wal,  it  did  beat  all  natur'), 
Upon  a  kin'  o'  corderoy,  fust  log,  then  alligator : 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  141 

Luck'ly  the  critters  warn't  sharp-sot ;  I  guess 't  wuz  overruled 
They'd  done  their  mornin's  marketin'  an'  gut  their  hunger 

cooled ; 
Fer  missionaries  to  the  Creeks  an'  runaways  are  viewed 
By  them  an'  folks  ez  sent  express  to  be  their  reg'lar  food : 
Wutever  't   wuz,   they   laid   an'  snoozed  ez  peacefully  ez 

sinners, 
Meek  ez  disgestin'  deacons  be  at  ordination  dinners ; 
Ef  any  on  'em  turned  an'  snapped,  I  let  'em  kin'  o'  taste 
My  live-oak  leg,  an'  so,  ye  see,  ther'  warn't  no  gret  o'  waste. 
Fer  they  found  out  in  quicker  time  than  ef  they'd  ben  to 

college 
'T  warn't  heartier  food  than  though  't  wuz  made  out  o'  the 

tree  o'  knowledge. 
But  /  tell  yoii  my  other  leg  hed  larned  wut  pizon-nettle 

meant, 
An'  var'ous  other  usefle  things,  afore  I  reached  a  settlement, 
An'  all  o'  me  thet  wuzn't  sore  an'  sendin'  prickles  thru  me 
Wuz  jest  the  leg  I  parted  with  in  lickin'  Montezumy : 
A  usefle  limb  it's  ben  to  me,  an'  more  of  a  support 
Than  wut  the  other  hez  ben, — coz  I  dror  my  pension  for  't. 

Wal,  I  gut  in  at  last  where  folks  wuz  civerlized  an'  white, 

Ez  I  diskivered  to  my  cost  afore  't  wuz  hardly  night ; 

Fer  'z  I  wuz  settin'  in  the  bar  a-takin'  sunthin'  hot, 

An'  feelin'  like  a  man  agin,  all  over  in  one  spot, 

A  feller  thet  sot  opposite,  arter  a  squint  at  me, 

Lep  up  an'  drawed  his  peacemaker,  an',    "Dash  it,   Sir," 

suz  he, 
"I'm  doubledashed  ef  you  ain't  him  thet  stole  my  yeller 

chettle 
(You're  all  the  stranger  thet's  around),  so  now  you've  gut  to 

settle ; 


I4«  THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS. 

It  ain't  no  use  to  argerfy  ner  try  to  cut  up  frisky, 

I  know   ye   ez   I    know   the   smell   o'   ole   chain-lightnin' 

whisky ; 
We're  lor-abidin*  folks  down  here,  we'll  fix  ye  so  's  't  a  bar 
Would  n'  tech  ye  with  a  ten-foot  pole ;  (Jedge,  you  jest  warm 

the  tar ;) 
You'll  think  you'd  better  ha'  gut  among  a  tribe  o'  Mongrel 

Tartars, 
'Fore  we've  done  showin'  how  we  raise  our  Southun  prize 

tar-martyrs ; 
A  moultin'  fallen  cherubim,  ef  he  should  see  ye,  'd  snicker, 
Thinkin'  he  hedn't  nary  chance.     Come,  genlemun,  le'  's 

liquor ; 
An',  Gin'ral,  when  you've  mixed  the  drinks  an'  chalked  'em 

up,  tote  roun' 
An'  see  ef  ther'  's  a  feather-bed  (thet's  borryable)  in  town. 
We'll  try  ye   fair,  Ole   Grafted-Leg,  an'  ef  the  tar  wun't 

stick, 
Th'  ain't  not  a  juror  here  but  wut  '11  'quit  ye  double-quick." 
To  cut  it  short,  I  wun't  say  sweet,  they  gi'  me  a  good  dip 
(They  ain't  perfessin!  Bahptists  here),  then  give  the  bed  n 

rip,— 
The  jury  'd  sot,  an'  quicker  'n  a  flash  they  hetched  me  out, 

a  livin' 
Extemp'ry  mammoth  turkey-chick  fer  a  Feejee  Thanksgivin*. 

Thet  I  felt  some  stuck  up  is  wut  it's  nat'ral  to  suppose, 
When  poppylar  enthusiasm  hed  furnished  me  sech  clo'es ; 
(Ner  't  ain't  without  edvantiges,  this  kin'  o'  suit,  ye  see. 
It's  water-proof,  an'  water  's  wut  I  like  kep'  out  o'  me ;) 
But  nut  content  with  thet,  they  took  a  kerridge  from  the 

fence 
An'  rid  me  roun'  to  see  the  place,  entirely  free  'f  expense, 


THE  BIGL  OW  PA  PERS.  1 43 

With    forty-'leven  new   kines  o'   sarse  without   no   charge 

acquainted  me, 
Gi'  me  three  cheers,  an'  vowed  thet  I  wuz  all  their  fahncy 

painted  me ; 
They  treated  me  to  all  their  eggs;  (they  keep  'em  I  should 

think, 
Fer  sech  ovations,  pooty  long,  for  they  wuz  mos'  distinc* ;) 
They  starred  me  thick  'z  the  Milky-Way  with  indiscrim'nit 

cherity, 
Fer  wut  we  call  reception  eggs  air  sunthin'  of  a  rerity ; 
Green    ones    is    plentifle   anough,  skurce  wuth   a   nigger's 

getherin', 
But  your  dead-ripe  ones  ranges  high  fer  treatin'  Nothun 

bretherin  : 
A  spotteder,  ringstreakeder  child  the'  warn't  in  Uncle  Sam's 
HoU  farm, — a  cross  of  stripbd  pig  an'  one  o'  Jacob's  lambs  ; 
'T  wuz  Dannil  in  the  lions'  den,  new  an'  enlarged  edition, 
An'  everythin'  fust-rate  o'  'ts  kind,  the'  warn't  no  impersition. 
People  's  impulsiver  down  here  than  wut  our  folks  to  home 

be. 
An'  kin'  o'  go  it  'ith  a  resh  in  raisin'  Hail  Columby  : 
Thet's  so:  an'  they  swarmed  out  like  bees,  for  your  real 

Southun  men's 
Time   isn't   o'   much    more    account    than   an   ole   settin' 

hen's ; 
(They  jest  work   semioccashnally    or   else   don't  work  at 

all, 
An'  so  their  time  an'  'tention  both  air  et  saci'ty's  call). 
Talk  about  hospitality  I  wut  Nothun  town  d'ye  know 
Would  take  a  totle  stranger  up  an'  treat  him  gratis  so  ? 
:  I  You'd  better  b'lieve  ther'  's  nothin'  like  this  spendin'  days 

an'  nights 
Along  'ith  a  dependent  race  fer  civerlisin'  whites. 


144  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

But  this  wuz  all  prelim'nary ;  it's  so  Gran'  Jurors  here 
Fin'  a  true  bill,  a  hendier  way  than  ourn,  an'  nut  so  dear; 
So  arter  this  they  sentenced  me,  to  make  all  tight  'n'  snug, 
Afore  a  reg'lar  court  o'  law,  to  ten  years  in  the  Jug. 
I  did  n'  make  no  gret  defence :  you  don't  feel  much  like 

speakin', 
When,  ef  you  let  your  clamshells  gape,  a  quart  o'  tar  will 

leak  in : 
I  hev  hearn  tell  o'  winged  words,  but  pint  o'  fact  it  tethers 
The  spoutin'  gift  to  hev  your  words  tu  thick  sot  on  with 

feathers, 
An'  Choate  ner  Webster  wouldn't  ha'  made  an  Ai  kin'  o' 

speech 
Astride  a   Southun   chestnut    horse   sharper   'n   a   baby's 

screech. 

Two   year   ago   they   ketched   the   thief,  'n'  seein'   I   wuz 

innercent, 
They  jest  oncorked  an'  le'  me  run,  an'  in  my  stid  the  sinner 

sent 
To  see  how  he  liked  pork  'n'  pone  flavored  with   wa'nut 

saplin'. 
An'    nary   social   priv'ledge    but  a   one-hoss,    starn-wheel 

chaplin. 
When  I  come  out,  the  folks   behaved  mos'  gen'manly  an' 

harnsome; 
They  'lowed  it  wouldn't  be  more  'n  right,  ef  I  should  cuss 

'n'  darn  some : 
The  Cunnle  he  apolergised;  suz  he,  "  I'll  du  wut's  right, 
I'll  give  ye  settisfection  now  by  shootin'  ye  at  sight. 
An'  give  the  nigger  (when  he's  caught),  to  pay  him  fer  his 

trickin' 
In  gittin'  the  wrong  man  took  up,  a  most  H  fired  lickin', — 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  145 

It's  jest  the  way  with  all  on  'em,  the  inconsistent  critters, 
They're  'most    enough    to   make    a   man    blaspheme    his 

mornin'  bitters; 
I'll  be  your  frien'  thru   thick  an'  thin  an'  in  all  kines  o' 

weathers, 
An'  all  you'll  hev  to  pay  fer  's  jest  the  waste  o'  tar  an' 

feathers : 
A  lady  owned  the  bed,  ye  see,  a  widder,  tu,  Miss  Shennon; 
It  wuz  her  mite;  we  would  ha'  took  another,  ef  ther  'd  ben 

one  : 
We  don't  make  no  charge  for  the  ride  an'  all  the  other  fixins. 
Le'  's  liquor;  Gin'ral,  you  can  chalk  our  friend  for  all  the 

mixins." 
A  meetin'  then  wuz  called,  where  they  "Resolved,  Thet 

we  respec' 
B.  S.  Esquire  for  quallerties  o'  heart  an'  intellec' 
Peculiar  to  Columby's  sile,  an'  not  to  no  one  else's, 
Thet  makes  European  tyrans  scringe  in  all   their  gilded 

pel'ces, 
An'  doos  gret  honor  to  our  race  an'  Southun  institootions 
(I  give  ye  jest  the  substance  o'  the  leadin'  resolootions :) 
Resolved,  Thet  we  revere  in  him  a  soger  'thout  a  flor, 
A  martyr  to  the  princerples  o'  libbaty  an'  lor  : 
Resolved,  Thet  other  nations  all,  ef  sot  'longside  o'  us, 
For  vartoo,  larnin',  chivverlry,  ain't  noways  wuth  a  cuss." 
They  gut  up  a  subscription,  tu,  but  no  gret  come  o'  thai, 
I  'xpect  in  cairin'  of  i4;  roun'  they  took  a  leaky  hat; 
Though  Southun  genelmun  ain't  slow  at  puttin'  down  their 

name 
(When  they  can  write),  fer  in  the  eend  it  comes  to  jest  the 

same, 
Because,  ye  see,  't  's  the  fashion  here  to  sign  an'  not  to  think 
A  critter  'd  be  so  sordid  ez  to  ax  'em  for  the  chink : 

10 


146  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

I  didn't  call  but  jest  on  one,  an'  he  drawed  toothpick   on 

me, 
An'  reckoned  he  warn't  goin'  to  stan'  no  sech  doggauned 

econ'my; 
So  nothin'  more  wuz  realised,  'ceptin'  the  good-will  shown, 
Than  ef  't  had  ben  from  fust  to  last  a  reg'lar  Cotton  Loan. 
It's  a  good  way,  though,  come  to  think,  coz  ye  enjy  the 

sense 
O'  lendin'  lib'rally  to  the  Lord,  an'  nary  red  o'  'xpense : 
Sence  then  I've  gut  my  name  up  for  a  gin'rous-hearted 

man 
By  jes'  subscribin'  right  an'  left  on  this  high-minded  plan; 
I've  gin  away  my  thousans  so  to  every  Southun  sort 
O'  missions,  colleges,  an'  sech,  ner  ain't  no  poorer  for  't. 

I  warn't  so  bad  oif,  arter  all;  I  needn't  hardly  mention 
Thet  Guv'ment  owed  me  quite  a  pile  for  my  arrears  o' 

pension, — 
I  mean   the  poor,  weak  thing  we  hed:  we  run  a  new  one 

now, 
Thet  strings  a  feller  with  a  claim  up  tu  the  nighest  bough, 
An'   prectises   the   rights   o'   man,    purtects    down-trodden 

debtors, 
Ner  wun't  hev  creditors  about  a-scrougin'  o'  their  betters : 
Jeff 's  got  the  last  idees  ther*  is,  poscrip',  fourteenth  edition, 
He  knows  it  takes  some  enterprise  to  run  an  oppersition; 
Ourn  's  the  fust  thru-by-daylight  train,  with  all  ou'doors  for 

deepot, 
Yourn  goes  so  slow,    you'd   think  'twuz  drawed  by  a  last 

cent'ry  teapot; — 
Wal,  I  gut  all  on  't  paid  in  gold  afore  our  State  seceded, 
An'  done  wal,  for  ConfedVit  bonds  warn't  jest  the  cheese 

needed : 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  147 

Nut  but   wut  they're  ez  good  ez  gold,  but  then  it's  hard 

a-breakin'  on  'em, 
An'  ignorant  folks  is  oilers  sot  an'  wun't  git  used  to  takin' 

on  'em; 
They're  wuth  ez  much  ez  wut  they  wuz  afore  ole  Mem'nger 

signed  'em. 
An'  go  off  middlin'  wal  for  drinks,  when  ther'  's  a  knife 

behind  'em; 
We  dti  miss  silver,  jest  fer  thet  an'  ridin'  in  a  bus, 
Now  we've  shook  off  the  despots  thet  was  suckin'  at  our  pus; 
An'  it's  because  the  South's  so  rich ;  'twuz  nat'ral  to  expec* 
Supplies  o'  change  wuz  jest  the  things  we  shouldn't  recoUec'; 
We'd  ough'  to  ha'  thought  aforehan',  though,  o'  thet  good 

rule  o'  Crockett's, 
For  't  's  tiresome  cairin'  cotton-bales  an'  niggers  in  your 

pockets, 
Ner  't  ain't  quite  hendy  to  pass  off  one  o'  your  six-foot 

Guineas 
An'  git  your  halves  an'  quarters  back  in  gals  an'  pickaninnies : 
Wal,  't  ain't  quite  all  a  feller  'd  ax,  but  then  ther'  's  this  to 

say. 
It's  on'y  jest  among  ourselves  thet  we  expec'  to  pay; 
Our  system  would  ha'  caird  us  thru  in  any  Bible  cent'ry, 
'Fore  this  onscripterl  plan  come  up  o'  books  by  double  entry; 
We  go  the  patriarkle  here  out  o'  all  sight  an'  hearin'. 
For  Jacob  warn't  a  circumstance  to  Jeff  at  financierin' ; 
He  never  *d  thought  o'  borryin'  from  Esau  like  all  nater 
An'  then  cornfiscatin'  all  debts  to  sech  a  small  pertater ; 
There's  p'litickle  econ'my,  now,  combined  'ith  morril  beauty 
Thet  saycrifices  privit  eends  (your  in'm^s,  tu)  to  dooty ! 
Wy,  Jeff  'd  ha'  gin  him  five  an'  won  his  eye-teeth  'fore  he 

knowed  it, 
An',  stid  o'  wastin'  pottage,  he'd  ha'  eat  it  up  an'  owed  it. 


J48  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

But  I  wuz  goin'  on  to  say  how  I  come  here  to  dwall ; — 
'Nough  said,  that,  arter  lookin'  roun',  I  liked  the  place  so 

wal, 
Where  niggers  doos  a  double  good,  with  us  atop  to  stiddy 

'em. 
By  bein'  proofs  o'  prophecy  an'  cirkleatin'  medium, 
Where  a  man's  sunthin'  cos  he's  white,  an'  whiskey's  cheap 

ez  fleas. 
An'  the  financial  pollercy  jest  sooted  my  idees, 
Thet  I  friz  down  right  where  I  wuz,  merried  the  Widder 

Shennon, 
(Her  thirds  wuz  part  in  cotton-land,  part  in  the  curse  o' 

Canaan,) 
An'  here  I  be  ez  lively  ez  a  chipmunk  on  a  wall. 
With  nothin'  to  feel  riled  about  much  later  'n  Eddam's 

fall. 

Ez  fur  ez  human  foresight  goes,  we  made  an  even  trade : 

She  gut  an  overseer,  an'  I  a  fem'ly  ready-made 

(The  youngest  on  'em  's  'most  growed  up),  rugged  an'  spry 

ez  weazles. 
So  's  't  ther'  's  no  resk  o'  doctors'  bills  fer  hoopin'  cough 

an'  measles. 
Our  farm  's  at  Turkey-Buzzard   Roost,   Little  Big  Boosy 

River, 
Wal  located  in  all  respex — fer  't  ain't  the  chills  'n'  fever 
Thet  makes  my  writin'  seem  to  squirm ;   a  Southuner  'd 

allow  I'd 
Some  call  to  shake,  for  I've  jest  hed  to  meller  a  new  cow- 
hide. 
Miss  S.  is  all  'f  a  lady ;  th'  ain't  no  better  on  Big  Boosy, 
Ner    one    with    more    accomplishmunts    'twixt    here   an' 
Tuscaloosy ; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  149 

She's  an  F.  F.,  the  tallest  kind,  an*  prouder  'n  the  Gran' 

Turk, 
An'  never  hed  a  relative  thet  done  a  stroke  o'  work ; 
Hern  ain't  a  scrimpin'  fem'ly  sech  ez  you  git  up  Down  East, 
Th'  ain't  a  growed  member  on  't  but  owes  his  thousuns  et 

the  least : 
She  is  some  old ;  but  then  agin  ther'  's  drawbacks  in  my 

sheer : 
Wut  's  left  o'  me  ain't  more  'n  enough  to  make  a  Brigadier : 
The  wust  is,  she  hez  tantrums ;  she  is  like  Seth  Moody's  gun 
(Him  thet  wuz  nicknamed  frum  his  limp  Ole  Dot  an'  Kerry 

One); 
He'd  left  her  loaded  up  a  spell,  an'  hed  to  git  her  clear, 
So  he  onhitched, — Jeerusalem !  the  middle  o'  last  year 
Wuz  right  nex'  door  compared  to  where  she  kicked  the 

critter  tu 
(Though /Vj/  where  he  brought  up  wuz  wut  no  human  never 

knew) ; 
His  brother  Asaph  picked  her  up  an'  tied  her  to  a  tree, 
An'  then  she  kicked  an  hour  'n'  a  half  afore  she'd  let  it  be : 
Wal,  Miss  S.  doos  hev  cuttins-up  an'  pourins-out  o'  vials, 
But  then  she  hez  her  widder's  thirds,  an'  all  on  uz  hez 

trials. 
My  objec',  though,  in  writin'  now  warn't  to  allude  to  sech, 
But  to  another  suckemstance  more  dellykit  to  tech, — 
I   want   thet   you  should   grad'lly    break   my  merriage   to 

Jerushy, 
An'  there's  a  heap  of  argymunts  thet's  emple  too  indooce  ye: 
Fust  place,  State's  Prison, — wal,  it's  true  it  warn't  fer  crime, 

o'  course, 
But  then  it's  jest  the  same  fer  her  in  gittin'  a  disvorce ; 
Nex'  place,  my  Staters  secedin'  out  hez  leg'Uy  lef  me  free 
To  merry  any  one  I  please,  pervidin'  it's  a  she  ; 


I  so  THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS. 

Fin'Uy,  I  never  wun't  come  back,  she  needn't  hev  no  fear 

on't, 
But  then  it's  wal  to  fix  things  right  fer  fear  Miss  S.  should 

hear  on't ; 
Lastly,  I've  gut  religion  South,  an'  Rushy  she's  a  pagan 
Thet  sets  by  th'  graven  imiges  o'  the  gret  Nothun  Dagon ; 
(Now  I  hain't  seen  one  in  six  munts,  for,  sence  our  Treashry 

Loan, 
Though  yaller  boys  is  thick  anough,  eagles  hez  kind  o' 

flown ;) 
An'  ef  J.  wants  a  stronger  pint  than  them  thet  I  hev  stated, 
Wy,  she's  an  aliun  in'my  now,  an'  I've  ben  cornfiscated, — 
For  sence  we've  entered  on  th'  estate  o'  the  late  nayshnul 

eagle, 
She  haint'  no  kin'  o'  right  but  jest  wut  I  allow  ez  legle : 
Wut  doos  Secedin'  mean,  ef  't  ain't  thet  nat'rul  rights  hez 

riz,  'n' 
Thet  wut  is  mine  's  my  own,  but  wut's  another  man's  ain't 

his'n  ? 

Besides,  I  couldn't  do  no  else ;  Miss  S.  suz  she  to  me, 
"You've    sheered    my   bed,"    [Thet's    when    I   paid    my 

interduction  fee 
To  Southun  rites,]  '*  an'  kep'  your  sheer,"  [Wal,  I  allow  it 

sticked 
So  's  't  I  wuz  most  six  weeks  in  gaol  afore  I  gut  me  picked,] 
"Ner  never  paid  no  demmiges ;  but  thet  wun't  do  no  harm, 
Pervidin'  thet  you'll  ondertake  to  oversee  the  farm ; 
(My   eldes'   boy   is   so   took   up,    wut   with    the    Ringtail 

Rangers 
An  settin'  in  the  Jestice-Court  for  welcomin'  o'  strangers";) 
[He  sot  on  me  /]  "  an'  so,  ef  you'll  jesf  ondertake  the  care 
Upon  a  mod'rit  sellery,  we'll  up  an'  call  it  square  ; 


THE  BIGL  0  W  PAPERS.  1 5 1 

But  ef  you  caiit  conclude,"  suz  she,  an'  give  a  kin'  o'  grin, 
"  Wy,  the  Gran'  Jury,  I  expect,  '11  hev  to  set  agin." 
Thet's  the  way  nietters  stood  at  fust ;  now  wut  wuz  I  to  du. 
But  jest  to  make  the  best  on't  an'  off  coat  an'  buckle  tu? 
Ther'  ain't  a  livin'  man  thet  finds  an  income  necessarier 
Than  me, — bimeby  I'll  tell  ye  how  I  fin'lly  come  to  merry 
her. 

She  hed  another  motive,  tu ;  I  mention  of  it  here 

T'  encourage  lads  thet's  growin'  up  to  study  'n'  persevere, 

An'  show  'em  how  much  better  't  pays  to  mind  their  winter- 

schoolin' 
Than  to  go  off  on  benders  'n'  sech,  an'  waste  their  time  in 

foolin' 
Ef 't  warn't  for  studyin'  evenins,  I  never  'd  ha'  been  here 
An  orn'ment  o'  saciety,  in  my  approprut  spear : 
She  wanted  somebody,  ye  see,  o'  taste  an'  cultivation, 
To  talk  along  o'  preachers  when  they  stopt  to  the  planta- 
tion; 
For  folks  in  Dixie  th't  read  an'  write,  onless  it  is  by  jarks 
Is  skurce  ez  wut  they  wuz  among  th'  oridgenal  patriarchs ; 
To  fit  a  feller  f  wut  they  call  the  soshle  higherarchy, 
All   thet   you've   gut   to    know  is  jest  beyund  an  evrage 

darky; 
Schoolin'  's  wut  they  can't  seem  to  stan',  they're  tu  con- 

sarned  high-pressure. 
An'  knowin'  t'  much  might  spile  a  boy  for  bein'  a  Secesher. 
We  hain't  no  settled  preachin'  here,  ner  ministeril  taxes; 
The  min'ster's  only  settlement  's  the  carpet-bag  he  packs 

his 
Razor   an'   soap-brush   intu,    with   his    hymbook    an'    his 

Bible,— 
But  they  du  preach,  I  swan  to  man,  it's  puf'kly  indescrib'le ! 


IS«  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

They  go  it  like  an  Ericsson's  ten-hoss-power  coleric  ingine, 
An'  make  Ole  Split-Foot  winch   an'  squirm,   for   all   he's 

used  to  singein' ; 
Hawkins's  whetstone  ain't  a  pinch  o'  primin'  to  the  innards 
To  hearin'  on  'em  put  free  grace  t'  a  lot  o'  tough  old  sin- 
hards  ! 
But  I  must  eend  this  letter  now:  'fore  long  I'll  send  a  fresh 

un : 
I've  lots  o'  things  to  write  about,  perticklerly  Seceshun  : 
I'm  called  off  now  to  mission-work,  to  let  a  leetle  law  in 
To  Cynthy's  hide :  an'  so,  till  death, 

Yourn, 
BIRDOFREDUM  SAWIN. 


MASON  AND  SLIDELL:   A  YANKEE  IDYLL. 

TO  THE  EDITORS  OF  THE   "ATLANTIC  MONTHLY." 

Jaalam,  6th  Jan.  1862. 
Gentlemen, — I  was  highly  gratified  by  the  insertion  of  a  portion  of 
my  letter  in  the  last  number  of  your  valuable  and  entertaining  Mis- 
cellany, though  in  a  type  which  rendered  its  substance  inaccessible  even 
to  the  beautiful  new  spectacles  presented  to  me  by  a  Committee  of  the 
Parish  on  New  Year's  Day.  I  trust  that  I  was  able  to  bear  your  very 
considerable  abridgment  of  my  lucubrations  with  a  spirit  becoming  a 
Christian.  My  third  grand-daughter,  Rebekah,  aged  fourteen  years, 
and  whom  I  have  trained  to  read  slowly  and  with  proper  emphasis  (a 
practice  too  much  neglected  in  our  modem  systems  of  education),  read 
aloud  to  me  the  excellent  essay  upon  "  Old  Age,"  the  author  of  which 
I  cannot  help  suspecting  to  be  a  young  man  who  has  never  yet  known 
what  it  was  to  have  snow  {canities  vioiosa)  upon  his  own  roof.  Dis- 
solve fn'syis,  largi  super  foro  Hgna  reponens  is  a  rule  for  the  young,  | 
whose  wood-pile  is  yet  abundant  for  such  cheerful  lenitives.  A  good] 
life  behind  him  is  the  best  thing  to  keep  an  old  man's  shoulders  from] 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  153 

shivering  at  every  breath  of  sorrow  or  ill-fortune.  But  methinks  it 
were  easier  for  an  old  man  to  feel  the  disadvantages  of  youth  than  the 
advantages  of  age.  Of  these  latter  I  reckon  one  of  the  chiefest  to  be 
this :  that  we  attach  a  less  inordinate  value  to  our  own  productions, 
and,  distrusting  daily  more  and  more  our  own  wisdom  (with  the  conceit 
whereof  at  twenty  we  wrap  ourselves  away  from  knowledge  as  with  a 
garment),  do  reconcile  ourselves  with  the  wisdom  of  God.  I  could 
have  wished,  indeed,  that  room  might  have  been  made  for  the  residue 
of  the  anecdote  relating  to  Deacon  Tinkham,  which  would  not  only  have 
gratified  a  natural  curiosity  on  the  part  of  the  public  (as  I  have  reason 
to  know  from  several  letters  of  inquiry  already  received),  but  would 
also,  as  I  think,  have  largely  increased  the  circulation  of  your 
Magazine  in  this  town.  Nihil  humani  alienum,  there  is  a  curiosity 
about  the  affairs  of  our  neighbours  which  is  not  only  pardon- 
able, but  even  commendable.  But  I  shall  abide  a  more  fitting 
season. 

As  touching  the  following  literary  effort  of  Esquire  Biglow,  much 
might  be  profitably  said  on  the  topic  of  Idyllic  and  Pastoral  Poetry, 
and  concerning  the  proper  distinctions  to  be  made  between  them,  from 
Theocritus,  the  inventor  of  the  former,  to  Collins,  the  latest  author 
I  know  of  who  has  emulated  the  classics  in  the  latter  style.  But  in 
the  time  of  civil  war  worthy  a  Milton  to  defend  and  a  Lucan  to  sing, 
it  may  be  reasonably  doubted  whether  the  public,  never  too  studious 
of  serious  instruction,  might  not  consider  other  objects  more  deserving 
of  present  attention.  Concerning  the  title  of  Idyll,  which  Mr.  Biglow 
has  adopted  at  my  suggestion,  it  may  not  be  improper  to  animadvert, 
that  the  name  properly  signifies  a  poem  somewhat  rustic  in  phrase  (for, 
though  the  learned  are  not  agreed  as  to  the  particular  dialect  employed 
by  Theocritus,  they  are  universanimous  both  as  to  its  rusticity  and  its 
capacity  of  rising  now  and  then  to  the  level  of  more  elevated  sentiments 
and  expressions),  while  it  is  also  descriptive  of  real  scenery  and  manners. 
Yet  it  must  be  admitted  that  the  production  now  in  question  (which 
here  and  there  bears  perhaps  too  plainly  the  marks  of  my  correcting 
hand)  does  partake  of  the  nature  of  a  Pastoral,  inasmuch  as  the  inter- 
locutors therein  are  purely  imaginary  beings,  and  the  whole  is  little 
better  than  Kairvov  ffKids  6vap.  The  plot  was,  as  I  believe,  suggested 
by  the  "  Twa  Briggs  "  of  Robert  Burns,  a  Scottish  poet  of  the  last 
century,  as  that  found  its  prototype  in  the  "  Mutual  Complaint  of 
Plainstanes  and  Causey,"  by  Fergusson,  though  the  metre  of  this  latter 
be  different  by  a  foot  in  each  verse.     I  reminded  my  talenteu  young 


154  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

parishioner  and  friend  that  Concord  Bridge  had  long  since  yielded  to 
che  edacious  tooth  of  Time.  But  he  answered  me  to  this  effect :  that 
there  was  no  greater  mistake  of  an  author  than  to  suppose  the  reader 
had  no  fancy  of  his  own  ;  that,  if  once  that  faculty  was  to  be  called 
into  activity,  it  were  better  to  be  in  for  the  whole  sheep  than  the 
shoulder;  and  that  he  knew  Concord  like  a  book — an  expression 
questionable  in  propriety,  since  there  are  few  things  with  which  he  is 
not  more  familiar  than  with  the  printed  page.  In  proof  of  what  he 
affirmed,  he  showed  me  some  verses  which  with  others  he  had  stricken 
out  as  too  much  delaying  the  action,  but  which  I  communicate  in  this 
place  because  they  rightly  define  "  punkin-seed "  (which  Mr.  Bartlett 
would  have  a  kind  of  perch — a  creature  to  which  I  have  found  a  rod  or 
pole  not  to  be  so  easily  equivalent  in  our  inland  waters  as  in  the  books 
of  arithmetic),  and  because  it  conveys  an  eulogium  on  the  worthy  son  of 
an  excellent  father,  with  whose  acquaintance  (eheu,  fugaces  anni  I)  I 
was  formerly  honoured. 

"  But  nowada)rs  the  Bridge  ain't  wut  they  show, 
So  much  ez  Em'som,  Hawthorne,  an'  Thoreau. 
I  know  the  village,  though  :  was  sent  there  once 
A-schoolin',  coz  to  home  I  played  the  dunce ; 
An'  I've  ben  sence  a-visitin'  the  Jedge, 
Whose  garding  whispers  with  the  river's  edge, 
Where  I've  sot  momin's  lazy  as  the  bream. 
Whose  only  business  is  to  head  up-stream 
(We  call  'm  punkin-seed),  or  else  in  chat 
Along  'th  the  Jedge,  who  covers  with  his  hat 
More  wit  an'  gumption  an'  shrewd  Yankee  sense 
Than  there  is  mosses  on  an  ole  stone  fence." 

Concerning  the  subject-matter  of  the  verses,  I  have  not  the  leisure  at 
present  to  write  so  fully  as  I  could  wish,  my  time  being  occupied  with 
the  preparation  of  a  discourse  for  the  forthcoming  bi-centenary  celebra- 
tion of  the  first  settlement  of  Jaalam  East  Parish.  It  may  gratify  the 
public  interest  to  mention  the  circumstance,  that  my  investigations  to 
this  end  have  enabled  me  to  verify  the  fact  (of  much  historic  im- 
portance, and  hitherto  hotly  debated)  that  Shearjashub  Tarbox  was  the 
first  child  of  white  parentage  born  in  this  town,  being  named  in  his 
father's  will  under  date  August  7th  or  9th,  1662.  It  is  well  known  that 
those  who  advocate  the  claims  of  Mehetable  Goings,  are  unable  to  find 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  155 

any  trace  of  hei  existence  prior  to  October  of  that  year.  As  respects 
the  settlement  of  the  Mason  and  Slidell  question,  Mr.  Biglow  has  not 
incorrectly  stated  the  popular  sentiment,  so  far  as  I  can  judge  by  its 
expression  in  this  locality.  For  myself,  I  feel  more  sorrow  than  resent- 
ment ;  for  I  am  old  enough  to  have  heard  those  talk  of  England  who 
still,  even  after  the  unhappy  estrangement,  could  not  unschool  their  lips 
from  calling  her  the  Mother  Country.  But  England  has  insisted  on 
ripping  up  old  wounds,  and  has  undone  the  healing  work  of  fifty  years  ; 
for  nations  do  not  reason,  they  only  feel,  and  the  spretce  injuria  forma 
rankles  in  their  minds  as  bitterly  as  in  that  of  a  woman.  And  because 
this  is  so,  I  feel  the  more  satisfaction  that  our  Government  has  acted 
(as  all  Governments  should,  standing  as  they  do  between  the  people 
and  their  passions)  as  if  it  had  arrived  at  years  of  discretion.  There 
are  three  short  and  simple  words,  the  hardest  of  all  to  pronounce  in  any 
language  (and  I  suspect  they  were  no  easier  before  the  confusion  of 
tongues),  but  which  no  man  or  nation  that  cannot  utter  can  claim  to 
have  arrived  at  manhood.  Those  words  are,  /  was  wrong ;  and  I  am 
proud  that,  while  England  played  the  boy,  our  rulers  had  strength 
enough  from  below  and  wisdom  enough  from  above  to  quit  themselves 
like  men.  Let  us  strengthen  the  hands  of  those  in  authority  over  us, 
and  curb  our  own  tongues,^  remembering  that  General  Wait  commonly 


^  And  not  only  our  own  tongues,  but  the  pens  of  others,  which  are 
swift  to  convey  useful  intelligence  to  the  enemy.  This  is  no  new 
inconvenience ;  for,  under  date  3rd  June  1745,  General  Pepperell 
wrote  thus  to  Governor  Shirley  from  Louisbourg : — "What  your 
Excellency  observes  of  the  army's  being  made  acquainted  with  any 
plans  proposed,  until  ready  to  be  put  in  execution,  has  always  been 
disagreeable  to  me,  and  I  have  given  many  cautions  relating  to  it. 
But  when  your  Excellency  considers  that  our  Council  of  War  consists 
of  more  than  twenty  members,  I  am  persuaded  you  will  think  it  impos- 
sible for  me  to  hinder  it,  if  any  of  them  will  persist  in  communicating  to 
inferior  officers  and  soldiers  what  ought  to  be  kept  secret.  I  am 
informed  that  the  Boston  newspapers  are  filled  with  paragraphs  from 
private  letters  relating  to  the  expedition.  Will  your  Excellency  permit 
me  to  say  I  think  it  may  be  of  ill  consequence?  Would  it  not  be 
convenient,  if  your  Excellency  should  forbid  the  printers  inserting  such 
news?"  Verily,  if  tempora  mutantur,  we  may  question  the  et  nos 
muttmur  in  illis ;  and  if  tongues  be  leaky,  it  will  need  all  hands  at  the 


156  THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS. 

proves  in  the  end  more  than  a  match  for  General  Headlong,  and  that 
the  Good  Book  ascribes  safety  to  a  multitude,  indeed,  but  not  to  a  mob, 
of  counsellors.  Let  us  remember  and  perpend  the  words  of  Paulus 
Emilius  to  the  people  of  Rome:  that,  "if  they  judged  they  could 
manage  the  war  to  more  advantage  by  any  other,  he  would  willingly 
yield  up  his  charge  ;  but  if  they  confided  in  him,  they  -were  not  to  make 
themselves  his  colleagues  in  his  office,  or  laise  reports,  or  criticise  his 
actions,  but,  without  talking,  supply  him  with  means  and  assistatue 
necessary  to  the  carrying  on  of  the  war  ;  for,  if  they  proposed  to  command 
tlieir  own  commander,  they  would  render  this  expedition  more  ridiculous 
than  the  former."  (Vide  Plutarchum  in  vitd  P.  E.)  Let  us  also  not 
forget  what  the  same  excellent  author  says  concerning  Perseus's  fear  ol 
spending  money,  and  not  permit  the  covetousness  of  Brother  Jonathan 
to  be  the  good  fortune  of  Jefferson  Davis.  For  my  own  part,  till  I  am 
ready  to  admit  the  Commander-in-Chief  to  my  pulpit,  I  shall  abstain 
from  planning  his  battles.  Patience  is  the  armour  of  a  nation  ;  and  in 
our  desire  for  peace  let  us  never  be  willing  to  surrender  the  Constitution 
bequeathed  us  by  fathers  at  least  as  wise  as  ourselves  (even  with 
Jefferson  Davis  to  help  us),  and,  with  those  degenerate  Romans, 
tiUa  et  prasentia  quant  vet  era  et  periculosa  malle. 
With  respect. 

Your  ob*  humble  serv*, 

HOMER  WILBUR,  A.M. 


I  LOVE  to  Start  out  arter  night's  begun, 
An'  all  the  chores  about  the  farm  are  done, 
The  critters  milked  an'  foddered,  gates  shet  fast, 
Tools  cleaned  aginst  to-morrer,  supper  past, 
An'  Nancy  darnin*  by  her  ker'sene  lamp, — 
I  love,  I  say,  to  start  upon  a  tramp, 
To  shake  the  kinkles  out  o'  back  an'  legs, 
An'  kind  o'  rack  my  life  off  from  the  dregs 

pumps  to  save  the  Ship  of  State.  Our  history  dotes  and  repeats  itself. 
If  Sassycus  (rather  than  Alcibiades)  find  a  parallel  in  Beauregard,  so 
Wcakwash,  as  he  is  called  by  the  brave  Lieutenant  Lion  Gardiner, 
need  not  seek  far  among  our  own  Sachems  for  his  antitype. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  157 

That's  apt  to  settle  in  the  buttery-hutch 

Of  folks  thet  foller  in  one  rut  too  much  : 

Hard  work  is  good  an'  wholesome,  past  all  doubt ; 

But 't  ain't  so,  ef  the  mind  gets  tuckered  out 


Now,  bein'  born  in  Middlesex,  you  know, 

There's  certin  spots  where  I  like  best  to  go  : 

The  Concord  road,  for  instance  (I,  for  one, 

Most  gin'lly  oilers  call  '\t  John  Bull's  Pun), — 

The  field  o'  Lexin'ton,  where  England  tried 

The  fastest  colours  thet  she  ever  dyed, — 

An'  Concord  Bridge,  thet  Davis,  when  he  came, 

Found  was  the  bee-line  track  to  heaven  an'  fame, — 

Ez  all  roads  be  by  natur',  ef  your  soul 

Don't  sneak  thru  shun-pikes  so's  to  save  the  toll. 

They're  'most  too  fur  away,  take  too  much  time 

To  visit  often,  ef  it  ain't  in  rhyme ; 

But  there's  a  walk  thet's  hendier,  a  sight. 

An'  suits  me  fust-rate  of  a  winter's  night, — 

I  mean  the  round  whale's-back  o'  Prospect  Hill. 

I  love  to  loiter  there  while  night  grows  still, 

An'  in  the  twinklin'  villages  about, 

Fust  here,  then  there,  the  well-saved  lights  goes  out, 

An'  nary  sound  but  watch-dogs'  false  alarms, 

Or  muffled  cock-crows  from  the  drowsy  farms. 

Where  some  wise  rooster  (men  act  jest  thet  way) 

Stands  to  't  thet  moon-rise  is  the  break  o'  day  : 

So  Mister  Seward  sticks  a  three-months  pin 

Where  the  war  'd  oughto  end,  then  tries  agin ; — 

My  gran'ther's  rule  was  safer  n'  't  is  to  crow : 

Don't  never  prophesy — onless  ye  know. 


158  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

I  love  to  muse  there  till  it  kind  o'  seems 
Ez  ef  the  world  went  eddyin'  off  in  dreams. 
The  Northwest  wind  thet  twitches  at  my  baird 
Blows  out  o'  sturdier  days  not  easy  scared, 
An'  the  same  moon  thet  this  December  shines- 
Starts  out  the  tents  an'  booths  o'  Putnam's  lines ; 
The  rail-fence  posts,  acrost  the  hill  thet  runs, 
Turn  ghosts  o'  sogers  should'rin*  ghosts  o'  guns ; 
Ez  wheels  the  sentry,  glints  a  flash  o'  light 
Along  the  firelock  won  at  Concord  Fight, 
An'  'twixt  the  silences,  now  fur,  now  nigh. 
Rings  the  sharp  chellenge,  hums  the  low  reply. 

Ez  I  was  settin'  so,  it  warn't  long  sence, 

Mixin'  the  perfect  with  the  present  tense, 

I  heerd  two  voices  som'ers  in  the  air. 

Though,  ef  I  was  to  die,  I  can't  tell  where : 

Voices  I  call  'em :  'twas  a  kind  o'  sough 

Like  pine-trees  thet  the  wind  is  geth'rin'  through ; 

An',  fact,  I  thought  it  was  the  wind  a  spell, — 

Then  some  misdoubted, — couldn't  fairly  tell, — 

Fust  sure,  then  not,  jest  as  you  hold  an  eel, — 

I  knowed,  an'  didn't, — fin'Uy  seemed  to  feel 

'Twas  Concord  Bridge  a-talkin'  off  to  kill    • 

With  the  Stone  Spike  thet's  druv  thru  Bunker  Hill : 

Whether  'twas  so,  or  ef  I  only  dreamed, 

I  couldn't  say ;  I  tell  it  ez  it  seemed. 

THE   BRIDGE. 

Wal,  neighbor,  tell  us,  wut's  turned  up  thet's  new  ? 
You're  younger  'n  I  be, — nigher  Boston,  tu  : 
An'  down  to  Boston,  ef  you  take  their  showin', 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  159 

Wut  they  don't  know  ain't  hardly  wuth  the  knowin'. 

There's  sunihhi'  goin'  on,  I  know :  las'  night 

The  British  sogers  killed  in  our  gret  fight 

(Nigh  fifty  year  they  hedn't  stirred  nor  spoke) 

Made  sech  a  coil  you'd  thought  a  dam  hed  broke : 

Why,  one  he  up  an'  beat  a  revellee 

With  his  own  crossbones  on  a  holler  tree, 

Till  all  the  graveyards  swarmed  out  like  a  hive 

With  faces  I  hain't  seen  sence  Seventy-five. 

Wut  is  the  news  ?     'Tain't  good,  or  they'd  be  cheerin'. 

Speak  slow  an'  clear,  for  I'm  some  hard  o'  hearin'. 

THE   MONIMENT. 

I  don't  know  hardly  ef  it's  good  or  bad, • 

THE  BRIDGE. 

At  wust,  it  can't  be  wus  than  wut  we've  had. 

THE   MONIMENT. 

You  know  them  envys  thet  the  Rebbles  sent, 
An'  Cap'n  Wilkes  he  borried  o'  the  Trent  ? 

THE   BRIDGE. 

Wut !  hev  they  hanged  'em  ?    Then  their  wits  is  gone ; 
Thet's  a  sure  way  to  make  a  goose  a  swan  ! 

THE   MONIMENT. 

No  :  England  she  would  hev  'em,  Fee,  Faw,  Futnl 
(Ez  though  she  hedn't  fools  enough  to  home), 
So  they've  returned  'em 


i6o  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 


THE    BRIDGE. 


Hev  they  ?     Wal,  by  heaven, 
Thet's  the  wust  news  I've  heerd  sence  Seventy-seven ! 
By  George,  I  meant  to  say,  though  I  declare 
It's  'most  enough  to  make  a  deacon  swear. 


THE  MONIMENT. 


Now  don't  go  off  half-cock :  folks  never  gains 
By  usin'  pepper-sarse  instid  o'  brains. 
Come,  neighbor,  you  don't  understand 


THE    BRIDGE. 

How  ?     Hey  ? 
Not  understand  ?     Why,  wut's  to  hender,  pray  ? 
Must  I  go  huntin'  round  to  find  a  chap 
To  tell  me  when  my  face  hez  had  a  slap  ? 

THE   MONIMENT. 

See  here :  the  British  they  found  out  a  flaw 

In  Cap'n  Wilkes's  readin'  o'  the  law : 

(They  i7iake  all  laws,  you  know,  an'  so,  o'  course, 

It's  nateral  they  should  understand  their  force :) 

He'd  oughto  took  the  vessel  into  port, 

An'  hed  her  sot  on  by  a  reg'lar  court; 

She  was  a  mail-ship,  an'  a  steamer,  tu. 

An'  thet,  they  say,  hez  changed  the  pint  o'  view 

Coz  the  old  practice,  bein'  meant  for  sails, 

Ef  tried  upon  a  steamer,  kind  o'  fails; 

You  may  take  out  despatches,  but  you  mus'n't 

Take  nary  man 


THE  BIGL OW  PA PERS.  1 6 1 

THE    BRIDGE. 

You  mean  to  say,  you  dus'n't 
Changed  pint  o'  view !     No,  no, — it's  overboard 
With  law  an'  gospel,  when  their  ox  is  gored ! 
I  tell  ye,  England's  law,  on  sea  an'  land, 
Hez  oilers  ben,  "/'z/*?  gut  the  heaviest  hand." 
Take  nary  man  ?     Fine  preachin'  from  her  lips! 
Why,  she  hez  taken  hundreds  from  our  ships, 
An'  would  agin,  an'  swear  she  had  a  right  to, 
Ef  we  warn't  strong  enough  to  be  perlite  to. 
Of  all  the  sarse  thet  I  can  call  to  mind, 
England  dcos  make  the  most  onpleasant  kind  : 
It's  you're  the  sinner  oilers,  she's  the  saint; 
Wut's  good  's  all  English,  all  thet  isn't  ain't»; 
Wut  profits  her  is  oilers  right  an'  just. 
An'  ef  you  don't  read  Scriptur  so,  you  must; 
She's  praised  herself  ontil  she  fairly  thinks 
There  ain't  no  light  in  Natur  when  she  winks ; 
Hain't  she  the  Ten  Comman'ments  in  her  pus  ? 
Could  the  world  stir  'thout  she  went,  tu,  ez  nus  ? 
She  ain't  like  other  mortals,  thet's  a  fact : 
She  never  stopped  the  habus-corpus  act, 
Nor  specie  payments,  nor  she  never  yet 
Cut  down  the  int'rest  on  her  public  debt ; 
She  don't  put  down  rebellions,  lets  'em  breed, 
An'  's  oilers  willin'  Ireland  should  secede ; 
She's  all  thet's  honest,  honnable,  an'  fair. 
An'  when  the  vartoos  died,  they  made  her  heir. 

THE    MONIMENT. 

Wal,  wal,  two  wrongs  don't  never  make  a  right ; 
Ef  we're  mistaken,  own  it,  an'  don't  fight : 

IJ 


i6i  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

For  gracious'  sake,  hain't  we  enough  to  du 
'Thout  gittin'  up  a  fight  with  England,  tu? 
She  thinks  we're  rabble-rid 

THE   BRIDGE. 

An'  so  we  can't 
Distinguish  'twixt  You  ou^httCt  an'  You  shatft  : 
She  jedges  by  herself;  she's  no  idear 
How 't  stiddies  folks  to  give  'em  their  fair  sheer  : 
The  odds  'twixt  her  an'  us  is  plain  's  a  steeple, — 
Her  People's  turned  to  Mob,  our  Mob's  turned  People. 

THE  MONIMENT. 

She's  riled  jes'  now 

THE   BRIDGE. 

Plain  proof  her  cause  ain't  strong, — 
The  one  thet  fust  gits  mad  's  most  oilers  wrong.    , 

THE   MONIMENT. 

You're  oilers  quick  to  set  your  back  aridge, — 
Though  't  suits  a  tom-cat  more  'n  a  sober  bridge  : 
Don't    you    git    het:     they    thought    the    thing    was 

planned ; 
They'll  cool  off  when  they  come  to  understand. 

THE    BRIDGE. 

Ef  thet 's  wut  you  expect,  you'll  hev  to  wait ; 
Folks  never  understand  the  folks  thet  hate. 
She'll  fin'  some  other  grievance  jest  ez  good, 
'Fore  the  month's  out,  to  git  misunderstood. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  163 

England  cool  off!     She'll  do  it,  ef she  sees 

She's  run  her  head  into  a  swarm  o'  bees. 

I  ain't  so  prejudiced  cz  wut  you  spose  : 

I  hev  thought  England  was  the  best  thet  goes ; 

Remember  (no,  you  can't),  when  /was  reared, 

God  save  the  King  was  all  the  tune  you  heerd : 

But  it's  enough  to  turn  Wachuset  roun', 

This  stumpin'  fellers  when  you  think  they're  down. 

THE    MONIMENT. 

But,  neighbor,  ef  they  prove  their  claim  at  law, 

The  best  way  is  to  settle,  an'  not  jaw. 

An'  don't  le'  's  mutter  'bout  the  awfle  bricks 

We'll  give  'em,  ef  we  ketch  'em  in  a  fix : 

That  'ere's  most  frequently  the  kin'  o'  talk 

Of  critters  can't  be  kicked  to  toe  the  chalk ; 

Your  "  You'll  see  neo^  time! "  an'  "Look  out  bimeby ! " 

Most  oilers  ends  in  eatin'  umble-pie. 

'T  wun't  pay  to  scringe  to  England  :  will  it  pay 

To  fear  thet  meaner  bully,  old  "  They'll  say  "  ? 

Suppose  they  du  say :  words  are  dreffle  bores, 

But  they  ain't  quite  so  bad  ez  seventy-fours. 

Wut  England  wants  is  jest  a  wedge  to  fit 

Where  it'll  help  to  widen  out  our  split : 

She's  found  her  wedge,  an'  't  ain't  for  us  to  come 

An'  lend  the  beetle  thet's  to  drive  it  home. 

For  growed-up  folks  like  us  'twould  be  a  scandle, 

When  we  git  sarsed,  to  fly  right  off  the  handle. 

England  ain't  all  bad,  coz  she  thinks  us  blind  : 

Ef  she  can't  change  her  skin,  she  can  her  mind  ; 

An'  you  will  see  her  change  it  double-quick, 

Soon  ez  we've  proved  thet  we're  a-goin'  to  lick. 


1 64  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

She  an'  Columby  's  gut  to  be  fas'  friends; 
For  the  world  prospers  by  their  privit  ends  : 
'Twould  put  the  clock  back  all  o'  fifty  years, 
Ef  they  should  fall  together  by  the  ears. 

THE    BRIDGE. 

You  may  be  right ;  but  hearken  in  your  ear, — 
I'm  older  'n  you, — Peace  wun't  keep  house  with  Fear 
Ef  you  want  peace,  the  thing  you've  gut  to  du 
Is  jest  to  show  you're  up  to  fightin',  tu. 
/recollect  how  sailors'  rights  was  won 
Yard  locked  in  yard,  hot  gun-lip  kissin'  gun : 
Why,  afore  thet,  John  Bull  sot  up  thet  he 
Hed  gut  a  kind  o'  mortgage  on  the  sea ; 
You'd  thought  he  held  by  Gran'ther  Adam's  will, 
An'  ef  you  knuckle  down,  >^^11  think  so  still. 
Better  thet  all  our  ships  an'  all  their  crews 
Should  sink  to  rot  in  ocean's  dreamless  ooze, 
Each  torn  flag  vavin'  chellenge  ez  it  went, 
An'  each  dumb  gun  a  brave  man's  moniment. 
Than  seek  sech  peace  ez  only  cowards  crave  : 
Give  me  the  peace  of  dead  men  or  of  brave ! 

THE  MONIMENT. 

I  say,  ole  boy,  it  ain't  the  Glorious  Fourth  : 
You'd  oughto  learned  'fore  this  wut  talk  wuz  worth. 
It  ain't  our  nose  thet  gits  put  out  o'  jint; 
It's  England  thet  gives  up  her  dearest  pint. 
We've  gut,  I  tell  ye  now,  enough  to  du 
In  our  own  fem'ly  fight,  afore  we're  thru. 
I  hoped,  las'  spring,  jest  arter  Sumter's  shame. 
When  every  flag-staif  flapped  its  tethered  flame, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  165 

An'  all  the  people,  startled  from  their  doubt, 
Come  must'rin'  to  the  flag  with  sech  a  shout, — 
I  hoped  to  see  things  settled  'fore  this  fall, 
The  Rebbles  licked,  Jeff  Davis  hanged,  an'  all ; 
Then  come  Bull  Run,  an'  sence  then  I've  ben  waitin' 
Like  boys  in  Jennooary  thaw  for  skatin', 
Nothin'  to  du  but  watch  my  shadder's  trace 
Swing,  like  a  ship  at  anchor,  roun'  my  base, 
With  daylight's  flood  an'  ebb :  it's  gittin'  slow, 
An'  I  'most  think  we'd  better  let  'em  go. 
I  tell  ye  wut,  this  war's  a-goin'  to  cost 

THE   BRIDGE. 

An'  I  tell  you  it  wun't  be  money  lost ; 

Taxes  milks  dry,  but,  neighbor,  you'll  allow 

Thet  havin'  things  onsettled  kills  the  cow: 

We've  gut  to  fix  this  thing  for  good  an'  all ; 

It's  no  use  buildin'  wut's  a-goin'  to  fall. 

I'm  older  'n  you,  an'  I've  seen  things  an'  men, 

An'  here's  wut  my  experience  hez  ben : 

Folks  thet  worked  thorough  was  the  ones  thet  thriv, 

But  bad  work  follers  ye  ez  long's  ye  live ; 

You  can't  git  red  on't ;  jest  ez  sure  ez  sin, 

It's  oilers  askin'  to  be  done  agin  : 

Ef  we  should  part,  it  wouldn't  be  a  week 

'Fore  your  soft-soddered  peace  would  spring  aleak. 

We've  turned  our  cuffs  up,  but,  to  put  her  thru, 

We  must  git  mad  an'  off"  with  jackets,  tu ; 

'T  wun't  du  to  think  thet  killin'  ain't  perlite, — 

You've  gut  to  be  in  airnest,  ef  you  fight ; 

Why,  two-thirds  o'  the  Rebbles  'ould  cut  dirt, 

Ef  they  once  thought  thet  Guv'ment  meant  to  hurt ; 


i66  THE  BJGLOW  PAPERS. 

An'  I  du  wish  our  Gin'rals  hed  in  mind 

The  folks  in  front  more  than  the  folks  behind ; 

You  wun't  do  much  ontil  you  think  it's  God, 

An'  not  constitoounts,  thet  holds  the  rod; 

We  want  some  more  o'  Gideon's  sword,  I  jedge, 

For  proclamations  hain't  no  gret  of  edge ; 

There's  nothin'  for  a  cancer  but  the  knife, 

Onless  you  set  by 't  more  than  by  your  life. 

7've  seen  hard  times ;  I  see  a  war  begun 

Thet  folks  thet  love  their  bellies  never  'd  won, — 

Pharo's  lean  kine  hung  on  for  seven  long  year, — 

But  when 't  was  done,  we  didn't  count  it  dear. 

Why,  law  an*  order,  honor,  civil  right, 

Ef  they  aitit  wuth  it,  wut  is  wuth  a  fight  ? 

I'm  older  'n  you  :  the  plough,  the  axe,  the  mill, 

All  kinds  o'  labor  an'  all  kinds  o'  skill, 

Would  be  a  rabbit  in  a  wile-cat's  claw, 

Eft  warn't  for  thet  slow  critter,  'stablished  law; 

Onsettle  thet,  an'  all  the  world  goes  whiz, 

A  screw  is  loose  in  everythin'  there  is  : 

Good  buttresses  once  settled,  don't  you  fret 

An'  stir  'em  :  take  a  bridge's  word  for  thet ! 

Young  folks  are  smart,  but  all  ain't  good  thet's  news 

I  guess  the  gran'thers  they  knowed  sunthin',  tu. 

THE   MONIMENT. 

Amen  to  thet !  build  sure  in  the  beginnin', 
An'  then  don't  never  tech  the  underpinnin' : 
Th'  older  a  Guv'ment  is,  the  better  't  suits ; 
New  ones  hunt  folks's  corns  out  like  new  boots : 
Change  jest  for  change  is  like  those  big  hotels 
Where  they  shift  plates,  an'  let  ye  live  on  smells. 


THE  B  J  GLOW  PAPERS.  167 

THE    BRIDGE. 

Wal,  don't  give  up  afore  the  ship  goes  down : 
It's  a  stiff  gale,  but  Providence  wun't  drown ; 
An'  God  wun't  leave  us  yet  to  sink  or  swim, 
Ef  we  don't  fail  to  du  wut's  right  by  Him. 
This  land  o'  ourn,  I  tell  ye,  's  gut  to  be 
A  better  country  than  man  ever  see. 
I  feel  my  sperit  swellin'  with  a  cry 
Thet  seems  to  say,  "Break  forth  an'  prophesy!" 

0  strange  New  World,  thet  yet  wast  never  young. 
Whose  youth  from  thee  by  gripin'  need  was  wrung,— 
Brown  foundlin'  o'  the  woods,  whose  baby-bed 

Was  prowled  round  by  the  Injun's  cracklin'  tread, 

An'  who  grew'st  strong  thru  shifts  an'  wants  an'  pains 

Nussed  by  stern  men  with  empires  in  their  brains, 

Who  saw  in  vision  their  young  Ishmel  strain 

With  each  hard  hand  a  vassal  ocean's  mane, — 

Thou,  skilled  by  Freedom  an'  by  gret  events 

To  pitch  new  States  ez  Old-World  men  pitch  tents, — 

Thou,  taught  by  Fate  to  know  Jehovah's  plan 

Thet  only  manhood  ever  makes  a  man. 

An'  whose  free  latch-string  never  was  drawed  in 

Aginst  the  poorest  child  o'  Adam's  kin, — 

The  grave's  not  dug  where  traitor  hands  shall  lay 

In  fearful  haste  thy  murdered  corse  away! 

1  see 

Jest  here  some  dogs  began  to  bark. 
So  thet  I  lost  old  Concord's  last  remark : 
I  listened  long,  but  all  I  seemed  to  hear 
Was  dead  leaves  goss'pin'  on  some  birch-trees  near ; 
But  ez  they  hedn't  no  gret  things  to  say, 
An'  said  'em  often,  I  come  right  away. 


i68  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

An',  walkin'  home'ards,  jest  to  pass  the  time, 
I  put  some  thoughts  thet  bothered  me  in  rhyme : 
I  hain't  hed  time  to  fairly  try  'em  on, 
But  here  they  be, — it's 


JONATHAN    TO    JOHN. 

It  don't  seem  hardly  right,  John, 
When  both  my  hands  was  full, 
To  stump  me  to  a  fight,  John, — 
Your  cousin,  tu,  John  Bull. 

Ole  Uncle  S,  sez  he,  "I  guess 
We  know  it  now,"  sez  he, 
"  The  lion's  paw  is  all  the  law 
Accordin'  to  J.  B., 
Thet's  fit  for  you  an'  me ! "  . 

Blood  ain't  so  cool  as  ink,  John  • 

It's  likely  you'd  ha'  wrote. 
An'  stopped  a  spell  to  think,  John, 
Arter  they'd  cut  your  throat  ? 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "I  guess 

He'd  skurce  ha'  stopped,"  sez  he, 

"To  mind  his  p's  an'  q's,  ef  thet  wcasan 

Hed  b'longed  to  ole  J.  B., 

Instid  o'  you  an'  me !  " 


Ef /turned  mad  dogs  loose,  John, 
On  your  front-parlor  stairs, 

Would  it  jest  meet  your  views,  John, 
To  wait  an'  sue  their  heirs  ? 


TBE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  169 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess, 
I  on'y  guess,"  sez  he, 
"  Thet,  ef  Vattel  on  his  toes  fell, 
'Twould  kind  o'  rile  J.  B., 
Ez  wal  ez  you  an'  me  I  " 


Who  made  the  law  thet  hurts,  John, 

Heads  I  win, — ditto,  tails  1 
"/".  B."  was  on  his  shirts,  John, 
Onless  my  memory  fails. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess 

(I'm  good  at  thet),"  sez  he, 

"  Thet  sauce  for  goose  ain't /i?jr/  the  juice 

For  ganders  with  J.  B., 

No  more  than  you  or  me ! " 


When  your  rights  was  our  wrongs,  John, 

You  didn't  stop  for  fuss, — 
Britanny's  trident-prongs,  John, 
Was  good  'nough  law  for  us. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess, 
Though  physic's  good,"  sez  he, 
"  It  doesn't  foller  thet  he  can  swaller 
Prescriptions  signed  '■J.  B.,' 
Put  up  by  you  an'  me  !  " 


We  own  the  ocean,  tu,  John  : 
You  mus'  n't  take  it  hard, 

Ef  we  can't  think  with  you,  John, 
It's  jest  your  own  back-yard. 


f70  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "I  guess, 
Ef  ihet^%  his  claim,"  sez  he, 
"  The  fencin'-stuff  '11  cost  enough 
To  bust  up  friend  J.  B., 
Ez  wal  ez  you  an'  me ! " 


Why  talk  so  dreffle  big,  John, 

Of  honor,  when  it  meant 

You  didn't  care  a  fig,  John, 

But  jest  for  ien  per  cent.  ? 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  *'  I  guess, 

He's  like  the  rest,"  sez  he  : 

"  When  all  is  done,  it's  number  one 

Thet's  nearest  to  J.  B., 

Ez  wal  ez  you  an'  me !  " 


We  give  the  critters  back,  John, 

Cos  Abram  thought  'twas  right ; 
It  warn't  your  buUyin'  clack,  John, 
Provokin'  us  to  fight. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess, 

We've  a  hard  row,"  sez  he, 

"To  hoe  jest  now;  but  thet,  somehow, 

May  heppen  to  J.  B., 

Ez  wal  ez  you  an'  me !  " 


We  ain't  so  weak  an'  poor,  John, 
With  twenty  million  people. 

An'  close  to  every  door,  John, 
A  school-house  an'  a  steeple. 


m 


THE  BIGL O  W  PAPERS.  1 7 1 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess 

It  is  a  fact,"  sez  he, 

"  The  surest  plan  to  make  a  Man 

Is,  Think  him  so,  J.  B., 

Ez  much  ez  you  or  me ! " 


Our  folks  believe  in  Law,  John; 

An'  it's  for  her  sake,  now. 
They've  left  the  axe  an'  saw,  John, 
The  anvil  an'  the  plough. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  *'  I  guess, 

Ef  't  warn't  for  law,"  sez  he, 

"There  'd  be  one  shindy  from  here  to  Indy; 

An'  thet  don't  suit  J.  B. 

(When  'tain't  'twixt  you  an'  me) ! " 


We  know  we've  gut  a  cause,  John, 

Thet's  honest,  just,  an'  true; 
We  thought  't  would  win  applause,  John, 
Ef  nowheres  else,  from  you. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "  I  guess 

His  love  of  right,"  sez  he, 

"  Hangs  by  a  rotten  fibre  o'  cotton: 

There's  natur'  in  J.  B., 

Ez  wal  ez  you  an'  me  I  " 


The  South  says,  "Poorjolks  down  I "  John, 
An'  "All  men  up  !  "  say  we, — 

White,  yaller,  black,  an'  brown,  John* 
Now  which  is  your  idee  ? 


172  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "I  guess, 

John  preaches  wal,"  sez  he; 

"  But,  sermon  thru,  an'  come  to  du^ 

Why,  there's  the  old  J.  B. 

A  crowdin'  you  an*  me !  " 

Shall  it  be  love,  or  hate,  John  ? 

It's  you  thet's  to  decide ; 
Ain't  your  bonds  held  by  Fate,  John, 
Like  all  the  world's  beside  ? 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "I  guess, 

Wise  men  forgive,"  sez  he, 

"  But  not  forget ;  an'  some  time  yet 

Thet  truth  may  strike  J.  B., 

Ez  wal  ez  you  an'  me  ! " 

God  means  to  make  this  land,  John, 

Clear  thru,  from  sea  to  sea, 
Believe  an'  understand,  John, 
The  wuth  o'  bein'  free. 

Ole  Uncle  S.  sez  he,  "I  guess, 

God's  price  is  high,"  sez  he; 

"  But  nothin'  else  than  wut  He  sells 

WeaK  long,  an'  thet  J.  B. 

May  learn  like  you  an'  me  I" 


THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS.  1 73 


BIRDOFREDUM  SAWIN,  ESQ.,  TO  MR.  HOSEA 
BIGLOW. 

With  the  following  Letter  from  the  Reverend  Homer 
Wilbur,  A.M. 

To  THE  Editors  of  thb  "Atlantic  Monthly." 

Jaalam,  7th  Feb.  1862. 
Respected  Friends, — If  I  know  myself,  and  surely  a  man  can 
hardly  be  supposed  to  have  overpassed  the  limit  of  fourscore  years  with- 
out attaining  to  some  proficiency  in  that  most  useful  branch  of  learning 
(«  ccelo  descendit,  says  the  pagan  poet),  I  have  no  great  smack  of  that 
weakness  which  would  press  upon  the  public  attention  any  matter 
pertaining  to  my  private  affairs.  But  since  the  following  letter  of 
Mr.  Sawin  contains  not  only  a  direct  allusion  to  myself,  but  that  in 
connection  with  a  topic  of  interest  to  all  those  engaged  in  the  public 
ministrations  of  the  sanctuary,  I  may  be  pardoned  for  touching  briefly 
thereupon.  Mr.  Sawin  was  never  a  stated  attendant  upon  my  preach- 
ing— never,  as  I  believe,  even  an  occasional  one,  since  the  erection  of 
the  new  house  (where  we  now  worship)  in  1845.  He  did,  indeed,  foe 
a  time,  supply  a  not  unacceptable  bass  in  the  choir  ;  but,  whether  on 
some  umbrage  {omnibus  hoc  vitium  est  canioribus)  taken  against  the 
bass-viol,  then,  and  till  his  decease  in  1850  {at.  77),  under  the  charge  of 
Mr.  Asaph  Perley,  or,  as  was  reported  by  others,  on  account  of  an 
imminent  subscription  for  a  new  bell,  he  thenceforth  absented  him- 
self from  all  outward  and  visible  communion.  Yet  he  seems  to  have 
preserved  (alid  mente  repostum),  as  it  were,  in  the  pickle  of  a  mind 
soured  by  prejudice,  a  lasting  scunner,  as  he  would  call  it,  against  our 
staid  and  decent  form  of  worship ;  for  I  would  rather  in  that  wise 
interpret  his  fling,  than  suppose  that  any  chance  tares  sown  by  my 
pulpit  discourses  should  survive  so  long,  while  good  seed  too  often  fails 
to  root  itself.  I  humbly  trust  that  I  have  no  personal  feeling  in  the 
matter ;  though  I  know  that,  if  we  sound  any  man  deep  enough,  our 
lead  shall  bring  up  the  mud  of  human  nature  at  last.  The  Bretons 
believe  in  an  evil  spirit  which  they  call  ar  c'houskezik,  whose  office  it  is 
to  make  the  congregation  drowsy ;  and  though  I  have  never  had  reason 


174  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

to  think  that  he  was  specially  busy  among  my  flock,  yet  have  I  seen 
enough  to  make  me  sometimes  regret  the  hinged  seats  of  the  ancient 
meeting-house,  whose  lively  clatter,  not  unwillingly  intensified  by  boys 
beyond  eyeshot  of  the  tithing-man,  served  at  intervals  as  a  wholesome 
reveil.  It  is  true,  I  have  numbered  among  my  parishioners  some 
whose  gift  of  somnolence  rivalled  that  of  the  Creton  Rip  van  Winkle, 
Epimenides,  and  who,  nevertheless,  complained  not  so  much  of  the 
substance  as  of  the  length  of  my  (by  them  unheard)  discourses.  Happy 
Saint  Anthony  of  Padua,  whose  finny  acolytes,  however  they  might 
profit,  could  never  murmur  !  Quare  fremuerunt  getttes  ?  Who  is  he 
that  can  twice  a  week  be  inspired,  or  has  eloquence  («/  tia  dicam) 
always  on  tap?  A  good  man,  and,  next  to  David,  a  sacred  poet  (him- 
self, haply,  not  inexpert  of  evil  in  this  particular),  has  said — 

"The  worst  speak  something  good  :  if  all  want  sense, 
God  takes  a  text  and  preacheth  patience." 

There  are  one  or  two  other  points  in  Mr,  Sawin's  letter  which  I 
would  also  briefly  animadvert  upon.  And  first  concerning  the  claim 
he  sets  up  to  a  certain  superiority  of  blood  and  lineage  in  the  people 
of  our  Southern  States,  now  unhappily  in  rebellion  against  lawful 
authority  and  their  own  better  interests.  There  is  a  sort  of  opinions, 
anachronisms  and  anachorisms,  foreign  both  to  the  age  and  the  country, 
that  maintain  a  feeble  and  buzzing  existence,  scarce  to  be  called  life, 
like  winter  flies,  which  in  mild  weather  crawl  out  from  obscure  nooks 
and  crannies  to  expatiate  in  the  sun,  and  sometimes  acquire  vigour 
enough  to  disturb  with  their  enforced  familiarity  the  studious  hours  of 
the  scholar.  One  of  the  most  stupid  and  pertinacious  of  these  is  the 
theory  that  the  Southern  States  were  settled  by  a  class  of  emigrants 
from  the  Old  World  socially  superior  to  those  who  founded  the 
institutions  of  New  England.  The  Virginians  especially  lay  claim  to 
this  generosity  of  lineage,  which  were  of  no  possible  account,  were  it  i 
not  for  the  fact  that  such  superstitions  are  sometimes  not  without  their 
effect  on  the  course  of  human  affairs.  The  early  adventurers  to 
Massachusetts  at  least  paid  their  passages ;  no  felons  were  ever 
shipped  thither ;  and  though  it  be  true  that  many  deboshed  younger  j 
brothers  of  what  are  called  good  families  may  have  sought  refuge  in  | 
Virginia,  it  is  equally  certain  that  a  great  part  of  the  early  deportations  j 
thither  were  the  sweepings  of  the  London  streets  and  the  leavings  of  j 


THE  BIGL  OW  PA  PERS.  r  7  5 

the  London  stews.  On  what  the  heralds  call  the  spindle  side,  some,  at 
least,  of  the  oldest  Virginian  families  are  descended  from  matrons  who 
were  exported  and  sold  for  so  many  hogsheads  of  tobacco  the  head. 
So  notorious  was  this,  that  it  became  one  of  the  jokes  of  contemporary 
playwrights,  not  only  that  men  bankrupt  in  purse  and  character  were 
"Food  for  the  Plantations"  (and  this  before  the  settlement  of  New 
England),  but  also  that  any  drab  would  suffice  to  wive  such  pitiful 
adventurers.  "Never  choose  a  wife  as  if  you  were  going  to  Virginia," 
says  Middleton  in  one  of  his  comedies.  The  mule  is  apt  to  forget  all 
but  the  equine  side  of  his  pedigree.  How  early  the  counterfeit  nobility 
of  the  Old  Dominion  became  a  topic  of  ridicule  in  the  Mother  Country 
may  be  learned  from  a  play  of  Mrs.  Behn's  founded  on  the  Rebellion  of 
Bacon  :  for  even  these  kennels  of  literature  may  yield  a  fact  or  two  to 
pay  the  raking.  Mrs.  Flirt,  the  keeper  of  a  Virginia  ordinary,  calls 
herself  the  daughter  of  a  baronet  "undone  in  the  late  rebellion," — 
her  father  having  in  truth  been  a  tailor, — and  three  of  the  Council, 
assuming  to  themselves  an  equal  splendour  of  origin,  are  shown  to 
have  been,  one  "  a  broken  exciseman  who  came  over  a  poor  servant," 
another  a  tinker  transported  for  theft,  and  the  third  "  a  common  pick- 
pocket often  flogged  at  the  cart's  tail."  The  ancestry  of  South  Carolina 
will  as  little  pass  muster  at  the  Herald's  Visitation,  though  I  hold  them 
to  have  been  more  reputable,  inasmuch  as  many  of  them  were  honest 
tradesmen  and  artisans,  in  some  measure  exiles  for  conscience's  sake, 
who  would  have  smiled  at  the  high-flying  nonsense  of  their  descendants. 
Some  of  the  more  respectable  were  Jews.  The  absurdity  of  supposing 
a  population  of  eight  millions  all  sprung  from  gentle  loins  in  the  course 
of  a  century  and  a  half  is  too  manifest  for  confutation.  The  aristocracy 
of  the  South,  such  as  it  is,  has  the  shallowest  of  all  foundations,  for  it 
is  only  skin-deep, — the  most  odious  of  all,  for,  while  affecting  to  despise 
trade,  it  traces  its  origin  to  a  successful  traffic  in  men,  women,  and 
children,  and  still  draws  its  chief  revenues  thence.  And  though,  as 
Doctor  Chamberlayne  says  in  his  Present  State  of  England,  "to  become 
a  Merchant,  of  Foreign  Commerce,  without  serving  any  Apprentisage, 
hath  been  allowed  no  disparagement  to  a  Gentleman  born,  especially  to 
a  younger  Brother,"  yet  I  conceive  that  he  would  hardly  have  made  a 
like  exception  in  favour  of  the  particular  trade  in  question.  Nor  do  I 
believe  that  such  aristocracy  as  exists  at  the  South  (for  I  hold  with 
Marius,  forlissunum  quemque  generosissimum)  will  be  found  an  element 
of  anything  like  persistent  strength  in  war, — thinking  the  saying  of  Lord 
Bacon  (whom  one  quaintly  called  tudiictionis  dominus  et  Veiulamii) 


176  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

as  true  as  it  is  pithy,  that  "  the  more  gentlemen,  ever  the  lower 
books  of  subsidies."  It  is  odd  enough  as  an  historical  precedent, 
that,  while  the  fathers  of  New  England  were  laying  deep  in  religion, 
education,  and  freedom  the  basis  of  a  polity  which  has  substantially 
outlasted  any  then  existing,  the  first  work  of  the  founders  of  Virginia, 
as  may  be  seen  in  Wingfield's  Memorial,  was  conspiracy  and  rebellion, 
^-odder  yet,  as  showing  the  changes  which  are  wrought  by  circum- 
stance, that  the  first  insurrection  in  South  Carolina  was  against 
the  aristocratical  scheme  of  the  Proprietary  Government.  I  do 
not  find  that  the  tuticular  aristocracy  of  the  South  has  added 
anything  to  the  refinements  of  civilisation,  except  the  carrying 
of  bowie-knives  and  the  chewing  of  tobacco,  a  high-toned  Southern 
gentleman  being  commonly  not  only  quadrumanous,  but  quidru- 
minant. 

I  confess  that  the  present  letter  of  Mr.  Sawin  increases  my  doubts  as 
to  the  sincerity  of  the  convictions  which  he  professes,  and  I  am  inclined 
to  think  that  the  triumph  of  the  legitimate  Government,  sure  sooner  or 
later  to  take  place,  will  find  him  and  a  large  majority  of  his  newly- 
adopted  fellow- citizens  (who  hold  with  Daedalus,  the  primal  sitter-on- 
the-fence,  that  medium  tenere  tutissimum)  original  Union  men.  The 
criticisms  towards  the  close  of  his  letter  on  certain  of  our  failings  are 
worthy  to  be  seriously  perpended ;  for  he  is  not,  as  I  think,  without  a 
spioe  of  vulgar  shrewdness.  As  to  the  good-nature  in  us  which  he 
seems  to  gird  at,  while  I  would  not  consecrate  a  chapel,  as  they  have 
not  scrupled  to  do  in  France,  to  Notre  Dame  de  la  Haine  (Our  Lady 
of  Hate),  yet  I  cannot  forget  that  the  corruption  of  good  nature  is 
the  generation  of  laxity  of  principle.  Good-nature  is  our  national 
characteristic ;  and  though  it  be,  perhaps,  nothing  more  than  a 
culpable  weakness  or  cowardice,  when  it  leads  us  to  put  up  tamely 
with  manifold  impositions  and  breaches  of  implied  contracts  (as  too 
firequently  in  our  public  conveyances),  it  becomes  a  positive  crime, 
when  it  leads  us  to  look  unresentfiilly  on  peculation,  and  to  regard 
treason  to  the  best  Government  that  ever  existed  as  something  with 
which  a  gentleman  may  shake  hands  without  soiling  his  fingers.  I  do 
not  think  the  gallows-tree  the  most  profitable  member  of  our  Syiva; 
but,  since  it  continues  to  be  planted,  I  would  fain  see  a  Northern 
limb  ingrafted  on  it,  that  it  may  bear  some  other  fruit  than  loyal 
Tennesseeans. 

A  relic  has  recently  been  discovered  on  the  east  bank  of  Bushy 
Brook,    in  North  Jaalam,   which  I  conceive  to   be  an   inscription   in 


7'HE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS.  1 7  7 

Runic  characters  relating  to  the  early  expedition  of  the  Northmen  to 
this  continent.  I  shall  make  fuller  investigations,  and  communicate 
the  result  in  due  season. 

Respectfully, 

Your  obedient  servant, 

HOMER  WILBUR,  A.M. 

P.S. — I  enclose  a  year's  subscription  from  Deacon  Tinkham. 


I  HED  it  on  my  min'  las'  time,  when  I  to  write  ye  started, 
To  tech  the  leadin'  featurs  o'  my  gitin'  me  convarted ; 
But,  ez  my  letters  hez  to  go  clearn  roun'  by  way  o'  Cuby, 
'Twun't  seem  no  staler  now  than  then,  by  th'  time  it  gits 

where  you  be. 
You  know  up  North,  though  sees  an'  things  air  plenty  ez 

you  please, 
Ther'  warn't  nut  one  on  'em  thet  come  jes'  square  with  my 

idees; 
I  dessay  they  suit  workin'-folks  thet  ain't  noways  pertic'lar, 
But  nut  your  Southun  gen'leman  thet  keeps  his  perpendic'lar; 
I  don't  blame  nary  man  thet  casts  his  lot  along  o'  his  folks, 
But  ef  you  cal'late  to  save  me^  \  must  be  with  folks  thet  is 

folks ; 
Cov'nants  o'  works  go  'ginst  my  grain,  but  down  here  I've 

found  out 
The  true  fus'-fem'ly  Ai  plan, — here's  how  it  come  about. 
When  I  fus'  sot  up  with  Miss  S.,  sez  she  to  me,  sez  she, — 
"Without  you  git  religion.  Sir,  the  thing  can't  never  be; 
Nut  but  wut  I  respeck,"  sez  she,  "  your  intellectle  part, 
But  you  wun't  noways  du  for  me  athout  a  change  o'  heart : 
Nothun    religion    works    wal    North,    but    it's   ez   soft   ez 

spruce. 
Compared  to  ourn,  for  keepin'  sound,"  sez  she,  "upon  the 

goose  j 

la 


178  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

A  day's  experunce  'd  prove  to  ye,  ez  easy  'z  pull  a  trigger, 
It  takes 'the  Southun  pint  o'  view  to  raise  ten  bales  a  nigger ; 
You'll  fin'  thet  human  natur,  South,  ain't  wholesome  more'n 

skin-deep, 
An'  once  't  a  darkie's  took  with  it,  he  wun't  be  wuth  his 

keep." 
•'  How  shell  I  git  it,  Ma'am  ?  "  sez  I.     "  Attend  the  nex' 

camp-meetin'," 
Sez  she,  "an'  it'll   come  to  ye   ez  cheap    ez    onbleached 

sheetin'." 

Wal,  so  I  went  along  an'  hcarn  most  an  impressive  sarmon 
About  besprinklin'  Afriky  with  fourth-proof  dew  o'  Harmon  : 
He  did  n'  put  no  weaknin'  in,  but  gin  it  tu  us  hot, 
*Z  ef  he  an'  Satan  'd  ben  two  bulls  in  one  five-acre  lot : 
I  don't  purtend  to  foller  him,  but  give  ye  jes'  the  heads  ; 
For  pulpit  ellerkence,  you  know,  'most  oilers  kin'  o'  spreads. 
Ham's  seed  wuz  gin  to  us  in  chairge,  an'  shouldn't  we  be  li'ble 
In  Kingdom  Come,  cf  we  kep'  back  their  priv'lege  in  the 

Bible? 
The  cusses  an'  the  promerses  make  one  gret  chain,  an'  ef 
You  snake  one  link  out  here,  one  there,  how  much  on  't  ud 

be  lef  ? 
All  things  wuz  gin  to  man  for  's  use,  his  sarvice,  an'  delight ; 
An'  don't  the  Greek  an'  Hebrew  words  thet  mean  a  Man 

mean  White  ? 
Ain't  it  belittin'  the  Good  Book  in  all  its  proudes'  featurs 
To  think  't  wuz  wrote  for  black  an'  brown  an'  'lasses  colored 

creaturs, 
Thet  could  n'  read  it,  ef  ihey  would,  nor  ain't  by  lor  allowed 

to, 
But  ough'  to  take  wut  we  think  suits  their  naturs,  an'  be 

proud  to? 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  179 

Warn't  it  more  prof 'table  to  bring  your  raw  materil  thru 
Where  you  can  work  it  inta  grace  an'  inta  cotton,  tu, 
Than  sendin'  missionaries  out  where  fevers  might   defeat 

'em, 
An'  ef  the  butcher  did  n'  call,  their  p'rishioners  might  eat 

'em? 
An'  then,  agin,  wut  airthly  use?     Nor  't  warn't  our  fault,  in 

so  fur 
Ez  Yankee  skippers  would  keep  on  a-totin'  on  'em  over. 
'T  improved  the  whites  by  savin'  'em  from  ary  need   o' 

wurkin', 
An'  kep'  the  blacks  from  bein'  lost  thru  idleness  an'  shirkin'  \ 
We  took  to  'em  ez  nat'ral  ez  a  barn-owl  doos  to  mice, 
An'  hed  our  hull  time  on  our  hands  to  keep  us  out  o'  vice ; 
It  made  us  feel  ez  pop'lar  ez  a  hen  doos  with  one  chicken, 
An'  fill  our  place  in  Natur's  scale  by  givin'  'em  a  lickin' ; 
For  why  should  Caesar  git  his  dues  more'n  Juno,    Pomp, 

an'Cuffy? 
It's  justifyin'  Ham  to  spare  a  nigger  when  he's  stuffy, 
■y^'here'd  their  soles  go  tu,  like  to  know,  ef  we  should  let 

'em  ketch 
Freeknowledgism  an'  Fourierism  an'  Speritoolism  an'  gech  ? 
When  Satan  sets  himself  to  work  to  raise  his  very  bes* 

muss. 
He  scatters  roun'  onscriptur'l  views  relatin'  to  Ones'mus. 

You'd  ough'  to  seen,  though,  how  his  facs  an'  argymunce 

an'  figgers 
Drawed   tears  o'  real    conviction  from   a  lot   o'   pen'tent 

niggers ! 
It  warn't  like  Wilbur's  meetin',  where  you're  shet  up  in  a 

pew, 
Your  dickeys  sorrin'  off  your  ears,  an'  bilin'  to  be  thru  ] 


i8o  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Ther'  wuz  a  tent  clost  by  thet  hed  a  kag  o'  sunthin'  in  it, 
Where  you  could  go,  ef  you  wuz  dry,  an'  damp  ye  in  a 

minute ; 
An'  ef  you  did  dror  off  a  spell,  ther'  wuzn't  no  occasion 
To  lose  the  thread,  because,  ye  see,  he  bellered  like  all 

Bashan. 
It's  dry  work  foUerin'  argymunce,  an'  so,  'twix'  this  an'  thet, 
1  felt  conviction  weighin'  down  somehow  inside  my  hat ; 
It  growed  an'  growed  like  Jonah's  gourd,  a  kin'  o'  whirlin' 

ketched  me, 
Ontil  I  fin'Uy  clean  giv  out  an'  owned  up  thet  he'd  fetched 

me; 
An*  when  nine-tenths  the  perrish  took  to  tumblin'  roun'  an' 

hollerin', 
I  did  n'  fin'  no  gret  in  th'  way  o'  turnin'  tu  an'  follerin'. 
Soon  ez  Miss  S.  see  thet,  sez  she,  "  Thet 's  wut  I  call  wuth 

seein'  1 
Thet 's  actin'  like  a  reas'nable  an'  intellectle  bein' !  " 
An'  so  we  fin'lly  made  it  up,  concluded  to  hitch  bosses, 
An'  here  I  be  'n  my  ellermunt  among  creation's  bosses ; 
Arter  I'd  drawed  sech  heaps  o'  blanks,  Fortin  at  last  hez 

sent  a  prize, 
An'  choose  me  for  a  shinin'  light  o'  missionary  enterprise. 

This  leads  me  to  another  pint  on  which  I've  changed  my 

plan 
O'  thinkin'  so  's  't  I  might  become  a  straight-out  Southun 

man. 
Miss  S.  (her  maiden  name  wuz  Higgs,  o'  the  fus'  fem'ly 

here) 
On  her  Ma's  side  's  all  Juggernot,  on  Pa's  all  Cavileer, 
An'  sence  I've  merried  into  her  an'  stept  into  her  shoes, 
It  ain't  more'n  nateral  thet  I  should  modderfy  my  views  : 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  i8i 

I've  ben  a-readin'  in  Debow  ontil  I've  fairly  gut 

So  'nlightened  thet  I'd  full  cz  lives   ha'  ben   a  Dook  ez 

nut; 
An'  when  we've  laid  ye  all  out  stiif,  an'  Jeff  hez  gut  his 

crown, 
An'  comes  to  pick  his  nobles  out,  wunU  this  child  be  in 

town! 
We'll  hev  an  Age  o'  Chivverlry  surpassin'  Mister  Burke's, 
Where  every  fem'ly  is  fus'-best  an'  nary  white  man  works  : 
Our  system's  sech,  the  thing'U  root  ez  easy  ez  a  tater ; 
For  while  your  lords  in  furrin  parts  ain't  noways  marked  by 

natur'. 
Nor  sot  apart  from  ornery  folks  in  featurs  nor  in  figgers, 
Efourn'll  keep  their  faces  washed,  you'll  know  'em  from 

their  niggers. 
Ain't  sech  things  wuth  secedin'  for,  an'  gettin'  red  o'  you 
Thet  waller  in  your  low  idees,  an'  will  till  all  is  blue  ? 
Fact  is,  we  air  a  diff'rent  race,  an'  I,  for  one,  don't  see, 
Sech  havin'  oilers  ben  the  case,  how  w'  ever  did  agree. 
It's  sunthin'  thet  you  lab'rin'-folks  up  North  hed  ough'  to 

think  on, 
Thet   Higgses   can't   bemean    themselves   to   rulin'   by  a 

Lincoln, — 
Thet  men  (an'  guv'nors,  tu)  thet  hez  sech  Normal  names  ez 

Pickens, 
Accustomed  to  no  kin'  o'  work,  'thout  't  is  to  givin'  lickins. 
Can't  masure  votes  with  folks  thet  git  their  livins  from  their 

farms. 
An'  prob'ly  think  thet  Law  's  ez  good  ez  hevin'  coats  o' 

arms. 
Sence  I've  ben  here,  I've  hired  a  chap  to  look  about  for 

me 
To  git  me  a  transplantable  an'  thrifty  fem'ly-tree, 


1 8  2  THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS. 

An'  he  tells  me  the  Sawins  is  ez  much  o'  Normal  blood 
Ez  Pickens  an'  the  rest  on  'em,  an'  older  'n  Noah's  flood. 
Your  Normal  schools  wun't  turn  ye  into  Normals,  for  it's 

clear, 
Ef  eddykatin'   done   the   thing,    they'd   be   some   skurcer 

here. 
Pickenses,  Boggses,  Pettuses,  Magoffins,  Letchers,  Polks, — 
Where  can  you  scare  up  names  like  them  among  your  mud- 
sill folks  ? 
Ther'  's  nothin'  to  compare  with  'em,   you'd  fin',  ef  you 

should  glance. 
Among  the  tip-top  femerlies  in  Englan',  nor  in  France : 
I've  hearn  from  'sponsible  men  whose  word  wuz  full  ez 

good's  their  note. 
Men  thet  can  run  their  face  for  drinks,  an'  keep  a  Sunday 

coat, 
Thet  they  wuz  all  on  'em  come  down,  and  come  down  pooty 

fur. 
From  folks  thet,  'thout  their  crowns  wuz  on,  ou'doors  would 

n'  never  stir, 
Nor  thet  ther'  warn't  a  Southun  man  but  wut  wuz  primy 

fashy 
O'  the  bes'  blood  in  Europe,  yis,  an'  Afriky  an'  Ashy : 
Sech  bein'  the  case,  is  't  likely  we  should  bend  like  cotton- 

wickin' 
Or  set  down  under  anythin'  so  low-lived  ez  a  lickin'  ? 
More'n  this, — hain't  we  the  literatoor  an'  science,  tu,  by 

gorry  ? 
Hain't  we  them  intellectle  twins,  them  giants,  Simms  an' 

Maury, 
Each  with  full  twice  the  ushle  brains,  like  nothin'  thet  I 

know, 
'Thout  'twuz  a  double-headed  calf  I  see  once  to  a  show? 


THE  BIGL  OW  PA  PERS.  1 8  3 

.  For  all  thet,  I  warn't  jest  nt  fust  in  favor  o'  secedin'; 
I  wuz  for  layin'  low  a  spell  to  find  out  where  'twuz  leadin', 
For  hevin'  South-Carliny  try  her  hand  at  seprit-nationin', 
She  takin'  resks  an'  findin'  funds,  and  we  co-operationin', — 
I  mean  a  kin'  o'  hangin'  roun'  an'  settin'  on  the  fence, 
Till  Prov'dunce  pinted  how  to  jump   an'  save  the  most 

expense; 
I  reecoUected  thet  'ere  mine  o'  lead  to  Shirza  Centre 
Thet  bust  up  Jabez  Pettibone,  an'  didn't  want  to  ventur' 
'Fore  I  wuz  sartin  wut  come  out  ud  pay  for  wut  went  in, 
For  swappin'  silver  off  for  lead  ain't  the  sure  way  to  win; 
(An',  fact,  it  doos  look  now  ez  though — but  folks  must  live 

an'  lam — 
We  should  git  lead,  an'  more'n  we  want,  out  o'  the  Old 

Consarn); 
But  when  I  see  a  man  so  wise  an'  honest  ez  Buchanan 
A-lettin'  us  hev  all  the  forts  an'  all  the  arms  an'  cannon, 
Admittin'  we  wuz  nat'Uy  right  an'  you  wuz  nat'lly  wrong, 
Coz  you  wuz  lab'rin'-folks  an'  we  wuz  wut  they  call  bon^s;- 

tong^ 
An'  coz  there  warn't  no  fight  in  ye  more'n  in  a  mashed 

potater, 
While  two  o'  us  can't  skurcely  meet  but  wut  we  fight  by 

natur', 
An'  th'  ain't  a  bar-room  here  would  pay  for  openin'  on  't  a 

night, 
Without  it  giv  the  priverlege  o'  bein'  shot  at  sight, 
Which  proves  we're  Natur's  noblemen,  with  whom  it  don't 

surprise 
The  British  aristoxy  should  feel  boun'  to  sympathise, — 
Seein'  all  this,  an'  scein',  tu,  the  thing  wuz  strikin'  roots 
While  Uncle  Sam  sot  still  in  hopes  thet  some  one  'd  bring 

his  boots. 


i84  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

I  thought  th'  ole  Union's  hoops  wuz  off,  and  let  myself  be 

sucked  in 
To  rise  a  peg  an'  jine   the  crowd  thet    went   for   recon- 

structin', — 
Thet  is,   to  hev  the    pardnership    under    th'   ole    name 

continner 
Jest  ez  it  wuz,  we  drorrin'  pay,  you  findin'  bone  an'  sinner, — 
On'y  to  put  it  in  the  bond,  an'  enter  't  in  the  journals, 
Thet  you're  the  nat'ral  rank  an'  file,  an'   we  the  nat'ral 

kurnels. 

Now  this  I  thought  a  fees'ble  plan,  thet  'ud  work  smooth  ez 

grease, 
Suitin'  the  Nineteenth  Century  an'  Upper  Ten  idees. 
An'  there  I  meant  to  stick,  an'  so  did  most  o'  th'  leaders,  tu, 
Coz  we  all  thought  the  chance  wuz  good  o'  puttin'  on  it  thru ; 
But  Jeff  he  hit  upon  a  way  o'  helpin'  on  us  forrard 
By    bein'   unannermous, — a   trick   you   aint   quite   up  to, 

Norrard. 
A  baldin  hain't  no  more  'f  a  chance  with  them  new  apple- 

corers 
Than  folks's  oppersition  views  aginst  the  Ringtail  Roarers ; 
They'll  take  'em  out  on  him  'bout  east, — one  canter  on 

a  rail 
Makes  a  man  feel  unannermous  ez  Jonah  in  the  whale ; 
Or  ef  he's  a  slow-moulded  cuss  thet  can't  seem  quite  *t 

agree, 
He  gits  the  noose  by  tellergraph  upon  the  nighes'  tree : 
Their  mission-work  with   Afrikins  hez  put  'em  up,  thet's 

sartin, 
To  all  the  mos'  across-lot  ways  o'  preachin'  an'  convartin' ; 
I'll  bet  my  hat  th'  ain't  nary  priest,  nor  all  on  'em  together, 
Thet  cairs  conviction  to  the  min'  like  Reveren'  Taranfeather; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  185 

Why,  he  sot  up  with  me  one  night,  an'  labored  to  sech 

purpose, 
Thet   (ez  an  owl   by  daylight   'raongst  a  flock   o'  teazin' 

chirpers 
Sees  clearer  'n  mud  the  wickedness  o'  eatin'  little  birds) 
I  see  my  error  an'  agreed  to  shen  it  arterwurds ; 
An'    I   should   say   (to   jedge   our   folks    by   facs   in   my 

possession), 
Thet  three's  Unannermous  where  one's  a  'Riginal  Secession; 
So    it's   a  thing   you   fellers  North   may   safely   bet   your 

chink  on, 
Thet   we're   all   water-proofed   agin   th'   usurpin'    reign  o' 

Lincoln. 

Jeff  *s  some.      He's  gut  another  plan  thet   hez  pertic'lar 

merits. 
In  givin'  things  a  cherfle  look  an'  stiffnin'  loose-hung  sperits; 
For  while  your  million  papers,  wut  with  lyin'  an'  discussin', 
Keep  folks's  tempers  all  on  eend  a-fumin'  an'  a-fussin', 
A-wondrin'  this  an'  guessin'  thet,  an'  dreadin',  every  night, 
The  breechin'  o'  the  Univarse  '11  break  afore  it's  light. 
Our  papers  don't  purtend  to  print  on'y  wut  Guv'ment  choose, 
An'  thet  insures  us  all  to  git  the  very  best  o'  noose  : 
Jeff  hez  it  of  all  sorts  an'  kines,  an'  sarves  it  out  ez  wanted, 
So  's  't  every  man  gits  wut  he  likes  an'  nobody  ain't  scanted; 
Sometimes   it's  vict'ries    (they're   'bout   all   ther'   is  that's 

cheap  down  here). 
Sometimes  it's  France  an'  England  on  the  jump  to  interfere. 
Fact  is,  the  less  the  people  know  o'  wut  ther'  is  a-doin', 
The  hendier  't  is  for  Guv'ment,  sence  it  benders  trouble 

brewin' ; 
An'  noose  is  like  a  shinplaster, — it's  good,  ef  you  believe  it. 
Or,  wut's  all  same,  the  other  man  thet's  goin'  to  receive  it: 


i86  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Ef  you've  a  son  in  th'  army,  wy,  it's  comfortin'  to  hear 
He'll  hev  no  gretter  resk  to  run  than  seein'  th'  in'my's  rear, 
Coz,  ef  an  F.  F.  looks  at  'em,  they  oilers  break  an'  run, 
Or  wilt  right  down  ez  debtors  will  thet  stumble  on  a  dun 
(An'  this,  ef  an'thin',  proves  the  wuth  o'  proper  fem'ly  pride, 
Fer  such  mean  shucks  ez  creditors  are  all  on  Lincoln's  side) ; 
Ef  I  hev  scrip  thet  wun't  go  ofiF  no  more'n  a  Belgin  rifle. 
An'  read  thet  it's  at  par  on  'Change,   it  makes  me  feel 

delFfle ; 
It's  cheerin',  tu,  where  every  man  mus'  fortify  his  bed, 
To  hear  thet  Freedom's  the  one  thing  our  darkies  mos'ly 

dread, 
An'  thet  experunce,  time  'n'  agin,  to  Dixie's  Land  hez  shown 
Ther*  's  nothin'  like  a  powder-cask  f  r  a  stiddy  corner-stone ; 
Ain't  it  ez  good  ez  nuts,  when  salt  is  sellin'  by  the  ounce 
For  its  own  weight  in  Treash'ry-bons  (ef  bought  in  small 

amounts), 
When  even  whiskey's  gittin'  skurce,  an'  sugar  can't  be  found, 
To  know  thet  all  the  ellerments  o'  luxury  abound  ? 
An'  don't  it  glorify  sal'-pork,  to  come  to  understand 
It's  wut  the  Richmon'  editors  call  fatness  o'  the  land  ? 
Nex'  thing  to  knowin'  you're  well  off  is  nut  to  know  when 

y'  ain't ; 
An'  ef  Jeff"  says  all's  goin'  wal,  who'll  ventur'  t'  say  it  ain't  ? 

This  cairn  the  Constitooshun  roun'  ez  Jeff  doos  in  his  hat 
Is  hendier  a  dreffle  sight,  an'  comes  more  kin'  o'  pat 
I  tell  ye  wut,  my  jedgment  is  you're  pooty  sure  to  fail, 
Ez  long  'z  the   head  keeps  turnin'   back  for   counsel    to 

the  tail : 
Th'  advantiges  of  our  consarn  for  bein'  prompt  air  gret, 
While,  'long  o'  Congress,   you  can't  strike,   'f  you  git  ah 

iron  het; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  187 

They  bother  roun'  with  argooin',  an'  var'ous  sorts  o'  foolin', 
To  make  sure  ef  it's  leg'Uy  het,  an'  all  the  while  it's  coolin', 
So  's  't  when  you  come  to  strike,  it  ain't  no  gret  to  wish  ye 

j'y  on. 
An'  hurts  the  hammer  'z  much  or  more  ez  wut  it  doos  the 

iron. 
Jeff  don't    allow  no  jawin'-sprees  for  three  months  at  a 

stretch, 
Knowin'  the  ears  long  speeches  suits  air  mostly  made  to 

metch ; 
He  jes'  ropes  in  your  tonguey  chaps  an'  reg'Iar  ten-inch 

bores 
An'  lets  'em  play  at  Congress,  ef  they'll  du  it  with  closed 

doors ; 
So  they  ain't  no  more  bothersome  than  ef  we'd  took  an' 

sunk  'em, 
An'  yit  enj'y  th'  exclusive  right  to  one  another's  Buncombe 
'Thout  doin'  nobody  no  hurt,  an'  'thout  its  costin'  nothin', 
Their  pay  bein'  jes'  Confedrit  funds,  they  findin'  keep  an' 

clothin' ; 
They  taste  the  sweets  o'  public  life,  an'  plan  their  little  jobs. 
An'  suck  the  Treash'ry  (no  gret  harm,  for  it's  ez  dry  ez 

cobs), 
An'  go  thru  all  the  motions  jest  ez  safe  ez  in  a  prison. 
An'  hev  their  business  to  themselves,  while  Buregard  hez 

hisn : 
Ez  long  'z  he  gives  the  Hessians  fits,  committees  can't  make 

bother 
'Bout  whether  't  's  done  the  legle  way  or  whether  't  's  done 

the  t'other. 
An'  /  tell  you  you've  gut  to  larn  thet  War  ain't  one  long 

teeter 
Betwixt  I  wan'  to  an'  'Twun't  du,  debatin'  like  a  skeetur 


1 88  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS. 

Afore  he  lights, — all  is,  to  give  the  other  side  a  millin', 
An'  arter  thet's  done,  th'  ain't  no  resk  but  wut  the  lor  '11  be 

willin' ; 
No  metter  wut  the  Guv'ment  is,  ez  nigh  ez  I  can  hit  it, 
A  lickin'  's  constitooshunal,  pervidin'  We  don't  git  it. 
JeflF  don't  stan'  dilly-dallyin',  afore  he  takes  a  fort 
(With  no  one  in),  to  git  the  leave  o'  the  nex'  Soopreme 

Court, 
Nor  don't  want  forty-'Ieven  weeks  o'  jawin'  an'  expoundin' 
To  prove  a  nigger  hez  a  right  to  save  him,  ef  he's  drowndin'; 
Whereas  ole  Abram  'd  sink  afore  he'd  let  a  darkie  boost 

him, 
Ef  Taney  shouldn't  come  along  an'  hedn't  interdooced  him. 
It  ain't  your  twenty  millions  thet'U  ever  block  Jeff's  game. 
But  one  Man  thet  wun't    let  'em  jog  jest  ez  he's   takin 

aim: 
Your  numbers  they  may  strengthen  ye  or  weaken  ye,  ez  't 

heppens 
They're  willin'  to  be  helpin'  hands  or  wuss'n-nothin'  cap'ns. 

I've  chose  my  side,  an'  *t  ain't  no  odds  ef  I  wuz  drawed 

with  magnets. 
Or  ef  I  thought  it  prudenter  to  jine  the  nighes'  bagnets ; 
I've  made  my  ch'ice,  an'  ciphered  out,  from  all  I  see  an 

heard, 
Th'   ole   Constitooshun  never  'd  git  her  decks  for  action 

cleared, 
Long  'z  you  elect  for  Congressmen  poor  shotes  thet  want 

to  go 
Coz  they  can't  seem  to  git  their  grub  no  otherways  than  so, 
An'  let  your  bes'  men  stay  to  home  coz  they  wun't  show  ez 

talkers, 
Nor  can't  be  hired  to  fool  ye  an  soi  -soap  ye  at  a  caucus, — 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  189 

Long  'z  ye  set  by  Rotashun  more  'n  ye  do  by  folks's  merits, 
Ez  though  experunce  thriv  by  change  o'  sile,  Hke  corn  an' 

kerrits, — 
Long 'z  you  allow  a  critter's  "claims"  coz,  spite  o'  shoves 

an'  tippins, 
He's  kep'  his  private  pan  jest  where  't  would  ketch  mos' 

public  drippins, — 
Long  'z  A,  '11  turn  tu  an'  grin'  B.'s  exe,  ef  B.  '11  help  him 

grin'  hisn, 
(An'  thet's  the  main  idee  by  which  your  leadin'  men  hev 

risen,) — 
Long  'z  you  let  ary  exe  be  groun',  'less  't  is  to  cut  the 

weasan' 
O'  sneaks  thet  dunno  till  they're  told  wut  is  an'  wut  ain't 

Treason, — 
Long  'z  ye  give  out  commissions  to  a  lot  o'  peddlin'  drones 
Thet  trade  in  whiskey  with  their  men,  an'  skin  'em  to  their 

bones, — 
Long  'z  ye  sift  out  "safe"  canderdates  thet  no  one  ain't 

afeared  on 
Coz   they're    so   thund'rin'  eminent  for  bein'  never  heard 

on. 
An*  hain't  no   record,  ez  it's  called,   for  folks  to  pick  a 

hole  in, 
Ez  ef  it  hurt  a  man  to  hev  a  body  with  a  soul  in. 
An'  it  wuz  ostentashun  to  be  showin'  on  't  about. 
When  half  his  feller-citizens  contrive  to  do  without, — 
Long  'z  you  suppose  your  votes  can  turn  biled  kebbage  into 

brain, 
An'  ary  man  thet's  pop'lar  's  fit  to  drive  a  lightnin'-train, — 
Long  'z  you   believe   democracy   means  I*m  ez  good  ez 

you  be. 
An'  thet  a  feller  from  the  ranks  can't  be  a  knave  or  booby, — 


1 90  THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS. 

Long  'z  Congress  seems  purvided,  like  yer  street  cars  an' 

yer  'busses, 
With  oilers  room  for  jes'  one  more  o'  your  spiled-in-bakin' 

cusses, 
Dough  'thout  the  emptins  of  n  soul,  an'  yit  with   means 

about  'em 
(Like    essence-peddlers  1)    thet'll    make   folks   long   to   be 

without  em', 
Jes'  heavy  'nough  to  turn  a  scale  thet's  doubtfle  the  wrong 

way, 
An'  make  their  nat'ral  arsenal  o'  bein'  nasty  pay, — 
Long  'z  them  things  last  (an'  /  don't  see  no  gret  signs  o' 

improvin') 
I  shan't  up  stakes,  not  hardly  yit,  nor  't  wouldn't  pay  for 

movin' ; 
For,  'fore  you  lick  us,  it'll  be  the  long*st  day  ever  you  see. 
Yourn  (ez  I  'xpec'  to  be  nex'  spring), 

B.,  Markiss  o'  Big  Boosy. 


A.  MESSAGE  OF  JEFF.  DAVIS  IN  SECRET 
SESSION. 

Conjecturally  Reported  by  H.  Biglow. 

To  THE  Editors  of  the  "Atlantic  Monthly." 

Jaalam,  loth  March  1862. 

Gentlemen, — My  leisure  has  been  so  entirely  occupied  with  the 

hitherto  fruitless  endeavour  to  decipher  the  Runic  inscription  whose 

fortunate  discovery  I  mentioned  in  my  last  communication,  that  I  have 

not  found  time  to  discuss,  as  I  had  intended,  the  great  problem  of  what 

*  A  rustic  euphemism  for  the  American  variety  of  the  Mephitis. — 
H.  W. 


THE  BIGL O  W  PAPERS.  1 9 1 

we  are  to  do  with  slavery,  a  topic  on  which  the  public  mind  in  this 
place  is  at  present  more  than  ever  agitated.  What  my  wishes  and 
hopes  are  I  need  not  say,  but  for  safe  conclusions  I  do  not  conceive  that 
we  are  yet  in  possession  of  facts  enough  on  which  to  bottom  them  with 
certainty.  Acknowledging  the  hand  of  Providence,  as  I  do,  in  all 
events,  I  am  sometimes  inclined  to  think  that  they  are  wiser  than  we, 
and  am  willing  to  wait  till  we  have  made  this  continent  once  more  a 
place  where  freemen  can  live  in  security  and  honour,  before  assuming 
any  further  responsibility.  This  is  the  view  taken  by  my  neighbour 
Habakkuk  Sloansure,  Esq.,  the  president  of  our  bank,  whose  opinion 
in  the  practical  affairs  of  life  has  great  weight  with  me,  as  I  have 
generally  found  it  to  be  justified  by  the  event,  and  whose  counsel,  had 
I  followed  it,  would  have  saved  me  from  an  unfortunate  investment  of  a 
considerable  part  of  the  painful  economies  of  half  a  century  in  the 
North-west  Passage  Tunnel.  After  a  somewhat  animated  discussion 
with  this  gentleman,  a  few  days  since,  I  expanded,  on  the  audi  alteram 
partsm  principle,  something  which  he  happened  to  say  by  way  of 
illustration,  into  the  following  fable : — 

FESTINA  LENTE. 

Once  on  a  time  there  was  a  pool 
Fringed  all  about  with  flag-leaves  cool 
And  spotted  with  cow-lilies  garish, 
Of  frogs  and  pouts  the  ancient  parish. 
Alders  the  creaking  redwings  sink  on. 
Tussocks  that  house  blithe  Bob  o'  Lincoln 
Hedged  round  the  unassailed  seclusion, 
Where  muskrats  piled  their  cells  Carthusian, 
«  And  many  a  moss-embroidered  log. 

The  watering-place  of  summer  frog, 
Slept  and  decayed  with  patient  skill, 
As  watering-places  sometimes  will. 

Now  in  this  Abbey  of  Theleme, 
Which  realised  the  fairest  dream, 
That  ever  dozing  bull-frog  had. 
Sunned  on  a  half-sunk  lily-pad, 
Thare  rose  a  party  with  a  mission 
To  mend  the  poUiwogs'  condition, 


192  T/JE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Who  notified  the  selectmen 

To  call  a  meeting  there  and  then. 

*'  Some  kind  of  steps,"  they  said,  "  are  needed  j 

They  don't  come  on  so  fast  as  we  did  : 

Let's  dock  their  tails  ;  if  that  don't  make  'em 

Frogs  by  brevet,  the  Old  One  take  'em  ! 

That  boy,  that  came  the  other  day 

To  dig  some  flag-root  down  this  way, 

His  jack-knife  left,  and  'tis  a  sign 

That  Heaven  approves  of  our  design  ; 

'Twere  wicked  not  to  urge  the  step  on, 

When  Providence  has  sent  the  weapon." 

Old  crosdcers,  deacons  of  the  miie. 
That  led  the  deep  batrachian  choir, 
l/k  I  Uk  !  Caronk  !  with  bass  that  might 
Have  left  Lablache's  out  of  sight. 
Shook  nobby  heads,  and  said,  "  No  go  ! 
You'd  better  let  'em  try  to  grow  : 
Old  Doctor  Time  is  slow,  but  still 
He  does  know  how  to  make  a  pill." 

But  vain  was  all  their  hoarsest  baas, 
Their  old  experience  out  of  place, 
And  spite  of  croaking  and  entreating, 
The  vote  was  carried  in  marsh-meeting. 

"  Lord  knows,"  protest  the  polliwogs, 
"  We're  anxious  to  be  grown-up  frogs  ;  • 

But  do  not  undertake  the  work 
Of  Nature  till  she  prove  a  shirk  ; 
'Tis  not  by  jumps  that  she  advances. 
But  wins  her  way  by  circumstances  ; 
Pray  wait  awhile,  until  you  know 
We're  so  contrived  as  not  to  grow  ; 
I^et  Nature  take  her  own  direction, 
And  she'll  absorb  our  imperfection  ; 
You  mightn't  like  'em  to  appear  with. 
But  we  must  have  the  things  to  steer  with." 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  193 

"  No,"  piped  the  party  of  reform, 

•'  All  great  results  are  ta'en  by  storm ; 

Fate  holds  her  best  gifts  till  we  show 

We've  strength  to  make  her  let  them  go: 

No  more  reject  the  age's  chrism. 

Your  cues  are  an  anachronism  ; 

No  more  the  Future's  promise  mock, 

But  lay  your  tails  upon  the  block, 

Thankful  that  we  the  means  have  voted 

To  have  you  thus  to  frogs  promoted." 

The  thing  was  done,  the  tails  were  croppe«l, 

And  home  each  philotadpole  hopped. 

In  faith  rewarded  to  exult, 

And  wait  the  beautiful  result. 

Too  soon  it  came :  our  pool,  so  long 

The  theme  of  patriot  bull-frogs'  song, 

Next  day  was  reeking,  fit  to  smother, 
With  heads  aad  tails  that  missed  each  other, — 
Here  snoutless  tails,  there  tailless  snouts: 
The  only  gainers  were  the  pouts. 


From  lower  to  the  higher  next, 
Not  to  the  top,  is  Nature's  text ; 
And  embryo  Good,  to  reach  full  stature, 
Absorbs  the  Evil  in  its  nature. 

I  think  that  nothing  will  ever  give  permanent  peace  and  security  to 
this  continent  but  the  extirpation  of  Slavery  therefrom,  and  that  the 
occasion  is  nigh ;  but  I  would  do  nothing  hastily  or  vindictively,  nor 
presume  to  jog  the  elbow  of  Providence.  No  desperate  measures  for 
me  till  we  are  sure  that  all  others  are  hopeless,— ^^^/tf^tf  si  neqtteo 
SUPEROS,  Acheron/a  movebo.  To  make  Emancipation  a  reform  instead 
of  a  revolution  is  worth  a  little  patience,  that  we  may  have  the  Bordc. 
States  first,  and  then  the  non-slaveholders  of  the  Cotton  States  with  us 
in  principle, — a  consummation  that  seems  to  be  nearer  than  many 
imagine.  Fiat  justitia^  mat  calum,  is  not  to  be  taken  in  a  literal  sense 
by  statesmen,  whose  problem  is  to  get  justice  done  with  as  Httlejar  as 

^3 


194  THE  BIGL 0  W  PAPERS. 

possible  to  existing  order,  which  has  at  least  so  much  of  heaven  in  it 
that  it  is  not  chaos.  I  rejoice  in  the  President's  late  Message,  which 
at  last  proclaims  the  Government  on  the  side  of  freedom,  justice,  and 
sound  policy. 

As  I  write,  comes  the  news  of  our  disaster  at  Hampton  Roads.  I  do 
not  understand  the  supineness  which,  after  fair  warning,  leaves  wood  to 
an  unequal  conflict  with  iron.  It  is  not  enough  merely  to  have  the  right 
on  our  side,  if  we  stick  to  the  old  flint-lock  of  tradition.  I  have  observed 
in  my  parochial  experience  {haud  ignarus  malt)  that  the  Devil  is  prompt 
to  adopt  the  latest  inventions  of  destructive  warfare,  and  may  thus  take 
even  such  a  three-decker  as  Bishop  Butler  at  an  advantage.  It  is 
curious  that,  as  gunpowder  made  armour  useless  on  shore,  so  armour  is 
having  its  revenge  by  baffling  its  old  enemy  at  sea, — and  that,  while 
gunpowder  robbed  land-warfare  of  nearly  all  its  picturesqueness  to  give 
even  greater  stateliness  and  sublimity  to  a  sea-fight,  armour  bids  fair  to 
degrade  the  latter  into  a  squabble  between  two  iron-shelled  turtles. 
Yours,  with  esteem  and  respect, 

HOMER  WILBUR,  A.M. 

P.S. — I  had  well^igh  forgotten  to  say  that  the  object  of  this  lettei 
is  to  enclose  a  communication  from  the  gifted  pen  of  Mr.  Biglow. 


I  SENT  you  a  messige,  my  friens,  t'other  day, 

To  tell  you  I'd  nothin'  pertickler  to  say: 

'Twuz  the  day  our  new  nation  gut  kin'  o'  stillborn, 

So  'twuz  my  pleasant  dooty  t'  acknowledge  the  corn, 

An'  I  see  clearly  then,  ef  I  didn't  before, 

Thet  the  augur  in  inauguration  means  bore. 

I  needn't  itW  you  thet  my  messige  wuz  written 

To  diffuse  correc'  notions  in  France  an'  Gret  Britten. 

An'  agin  to  impress  on  the  poppylar  mind 

The  comfort  an'  wisdom  o'  goin'  it  blind, — 

To  say  thet  I  didn't  abate  not  a  hooter 

O'  my  faith  in  a  happy  an'  glorious  futur', 

Ez  rich  in  each  soshle  an'  p'litickle  blessin* 

pz  them  thet  we  now  hed  the  joy  o'  possessin', 


i 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  195 

With  a  people  united,  an'  longin'  to  die 

For  wut  we  call  their  country,  without  askin'  why, 

An'  all  the  gret  things  we  concluded  to  slope  for 

Ez  much  within  reach  now  ez  ever — to  hope  for. 

We've  all  o'  the  ellerments,  this  very  hour, 

Thet  make  up  a  fus'-class,  self-governin'  power: 

We've  a  war,  an'  a  debt,  an'  a  flag ;  an'  ef  this 

Ain't  to  be  inderpendunt,  why,  wut  on  airth  is  ? 

An'  nothin'  now  benders  our  takin'  our  station 

Ez  the  freest,  enlightenedest,  civerlised  nation, 

Built  up  on  our  bran'-new  politickle  thesis 

Thet  a  Gov'ment's  fust  right  is  to  tumble  to  pieces, — 

I  say  nothin'  benders  our  takin'  our  place 

Ez  the  very  fus'-best  o'  the  whole  human  race, 

A-spittin'  tobacker  ez  proud  ez  you  please 

On  Victory's  bes'  carpets,  or  loafin'  at  ease 

In  the  Tool'ries  front-parlor,  discussin'  affairs 

With  our  heels  on  the  backs  o'  Napoleon's  new  chairs. 

An*  princes  a-mixin'  our  cocktails  an'  slings, — 

Excep',  wal,  excep'  jest  a  very  few  things, 

Sech  ez  navies  an'  armies  an'  wherewith  to  pay, 

An'  gittin'  our  sogers  to  run  t'other  way, 

An'  not  be  too  over-pertickler  in  tryin' 

To  hunt  up  the  very  las'  ditches  to  die  in. 

Ther'  are  critters  so  base  thet  they  want  it  explained 
Jes'  wut  is  the  totle  amount  thet  we've  gained, 
Ez  ef  we  could  maysure  stupenjious  events 
By  the  low  Yankee  stan'ard  o'  dollars  an'  cents: 
They  seem  to  forgit  thet,  sence  last  year  revolved. 
We've  succeeded  in  gittin'  seceshed  an'  dissolved. 
An'  thet  no  one  can't  hope  to  git  thru  dissolootion 
'Thout  some  kin'  o'  strain  on  the  best  Constitootion. 


196  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Who  asks  for  a  prospec'  more  flettrin'  an'  bright, 
When  from  here  clean  to  Texas  it's  all  one  free  fight  ? 
Hain't  we  rescued  from  Seward  the  gret  leadin'  featurs 
Thet  makes  it  wuth  while  to  be  reasonin'  creators  ? 
Hain't  we  saved  Habus  Coppers,  improved  it  in  fact, 
By  suspendin'  the  Unionists  'stid  o'  the  Act  ? 
Ain't  the  laws  free  to  all  ?     Where  on  airth  else  d'ye  see 
Every  freeman  improvin'  his  own  rope  an'  tree  ? 

It's  ne'ssary  to  take  a  good  confident  tone 

With  the  pubUc ;  but  here,  jest  amongst  us,  I  own 

Things  looks  blacker  'n  thunder.     Ther'  's  no  use  denym', 

We're  clean  out  o'  money,  an'  'most  out  o'  lyin', — 

Two  things  a  young  nation  can't  mennage  without, 

Ef  she  wants  to  look  wal  at  her  fust  comin'  out ; 

For  the  fust  supplies  physickle  strength,  while  the  second 

Gives  a  morril  edvantage  thet's  hard  to  be  reckoned  : 

For  this  latter  I'm  willin'  to  du  wut  I  can ; 

For  the  former  you'll  hev  to  consult  on  a  plan, — 

Though  OMxfust  want  (an'  this  pint  I  want  your  best  views  on) 

Is  plausible  paper  to  print  I.  O.  U.s  on. 

Some  gennlemen  think  it  would  cure  all  our  cankers 

In  the  way  o'  finance,  ef  we  jes'  hanged  the  bankers ; 

An'  I  own  the  proposle  'ud  square  with  my  views, 

Ef  their  lives  wuzn't  all  thet  we'd  left  'em  to  lose. 

Some  say  thet  more  confidence  might  be  inspired, 

Ef  we  voted  our  cities  an'  towns  to  be  fired, — 

A  plan  thet  'ud  suttenly  tax  our  endurance, 

Coz  'twould  be  our  own  bills  we  should  git  for  the  insurance; 

But  cinders,  no  metter  how  sacred  we  think  'em. 

Mightn't  strike  furrin  minds  ez  good  sources  of  income, 

Nor  the  people,  perhaps,  wouldn't  like  the  eclaw 

O'  bein'  all  turned  into  paytriots  by  law. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  197 

Some  want  we  should  buy  all  the  cotton  an'  burn  it, 

On  a  pledge,  when  we've  gut  thru  the  war,  to  return  it, — 

Then  to  take  the  proceeds  an'  hold  them  ez  security 

For  an  issue  o'  bonds  to  be  met  at  maturity, 

With  an  issue  o'  notes  to  be  paid  in  hard  cash 

On  the  fus'  Monday  follerin'  the  'tarnal  AUsmash : 

This  hez  a  safe  air,  an',  once  hold  o'  the  gold, 

'Ud  leave  our  vile  plunderers  out  in  the  cold, 

An'  might  temp'  John  Bull,  ef  it  warn't  for  the  dip  he 

Once  gut  from  the  banks  o'  my  own  Massissippi. 

Some  think  we  could  make,  by  arrangin'  the  figgers, 

A  hendy  home-currency  out  of  our  niggers ; 

But  it  wun't  du  to  lean  much  on  ary  sech  staff. 

For  they're  gittin'  tu  current  a'ready,  by  half. 

One  gennleman  says,  ef  we  lef '  our  loan  out 

Where  Floyd  could  git  hold  on  't,  he  'd  take  it,  no  doubt ; 

But  'tain't  jes'  the  takin',  though  't  hez  a  good  look. 

We  mus'  git  sunthin'  out  on  it  arter  it's  took. 

An*  we  need  now  more  'n  ever,  with  sorrer  I  own, 

Thet  some  one  another  should  let  us  a  loan, 

Sence  a  soger  wun't  fight,  on'y  jes'  while  he  draws  his 

Pay  down  on  the  nail,  for  the  best  of  all  causes, 

'Thout  askin'  to  know  wut  the  quarrel's  about, — 

An*  once  come  to  thet,  why,  our  game  is  played  out. 

It's  ez  true  ez  though  I  shouldn't  never  hev  said  it 

Thet  a  hitch  hez  took  place  in  our  system  o'  credit ; 

I  swear  it's  all  right  in  my  speeches  an*  messiges, 

But  ther*  's  idees  afloat,  ez  ther'  is  about  sessiges : 

Folks  wun*t  take  a  bond  ez  a  basis  to  trade  on, 

Without  nosin'  round  to  find  out  wut  it's  made  on. 

An'   the   thought    more   an'   more   thru   the  public   min* 

crosses 
Thet  our  Treshry  hez  gut  'mos'  too  many  dead  bosses. 


.  igS  THE  BIGL O  W  PAPERS. 

Wut's  called  credit,  you  see,  is  some  like  a  balloon, 
Thet  looks  while  it's  up  'most  ez  harnsome  'z  a  moon, 
But  once  git  a  leak  in  't  an'  wut  looked  so  grand 
Caves  righ'  down  in  a  jiffy  ez  flat  ez  your  hand. 
Now  the  world  is  a  dreffie  mean  place,  for  our  sins, 
Where  ther*  ollus  is  critters  about  with  long  pins 
A-prickin'  the  globes  we've  blowed  up  with  sech  care. 
An'  provin'  ther'  's  nothin'  inside  but  bad  air : 
They're  all  Stuart  Millses,  poor-white  trash,  an'  sneaks, 
Without  no  more  chivverlry  'n  Choctaws  or  Creeks, 
Who  think  a  real  gennleman's  promise  to  pay 
Is  meant  to  be  took  in  trade's  ornery  way : 
Them  fellers  an'  I  could  n'  never  agree ; 
They're  the  nateral  foes  o'  the  Southun  Idee; 
I'd  gladly  take  all  of  our  other  resks  on  me 
To  be  red  o'  this  low-lived  politikle  'con'my ! 

Now  a  dastardly  notion  is  gittin'  about 

Thet  our  bladder  is  bust  an'  the  gas  oozin'  out, 

An'  onless  we  can  mennage  in  some  way  to  stop  it. 

Why,  the  thing's  a  gone  coon,  an'  we  might  ez  wal  drop  it. 

Brag  works  wal  at  fust,  but  it  ain't  jes'  the  thing 

For  a  stiddy  inves'ment  the  shiners  to  bring. 

An'  votin'  we're  prosp'rous  a  hundred  times  over 

Wun't  change  bein'  starved  into  livin'  on  clover. 

Manassas  done  sunthin'  tow'rds  drawin'  the  wool 

O'er  the  green,  anti-slavery  eyes  o'  John  Bull : 

Oh,  warrCt  it  a  godsend,  jes'  when  sech  tight  fixes 

Wuz  crowdin'  us  mourners,  to  throw  double-sixes ! 

I  wuz  tempted  to  think,  an'  it  wuzn't  no  wonder, 

Ther*  wuz  reelly  a  Providence, — over  or  under, — 

When,  all  packed  for  Nashville,  I  fust  ascertained 

From  the  papers  up  North  wut  a  victory  we'd  gained. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  195 

'Twuz  the  time  for  diffusin'  correc'  views  abroad 

Of  our  union  an'  strength  an'  relyin'  on  God ; 

An',  fact,  when  I'd  gut  thru  my  fust  big  surprise, 

I  much  ez  half  b'lieved  in  my  own  tallest  lies, 

An'  conveyed  the  idee  thet  the  whole  Southun  popperlace 

Wuz  Spartans  all  on  the  keen  jump  for  Thermopperlies, 

They  set  on  the  Lincolnites'  bombs  till  they  bust, 

An'  fight  for  the  priv'lege  o'  dyin'  the  fust ; 

But  Roanoke,  Bufort,  Millspring,  an'  the  rest 

Of  our  recent  starn-foremost  successes  out  West, 

Hain't  left  us  a  foot  for  our  swefUin'  to  stand  on, — 

We've  showed  too  much  o'  wut  Buregard  calls  abandon^ 

For  all  our  Thermopperlies  (an'  it's  a  marcy 

We  hain't  hed  no  more)  hev  ben  clean  vicy-varsy, 

An'  wut  Spartans  wuz  lef  when  the  battle  wuz  done 

Wuz  them  thet  wuz  too  unambitious  to  run. 

Oh,  ef  we  hed  on'y  jes'  gut  Reecognition, 

Things  now  would  ha'  ben  in  a  different  position ! 

You'd  ha'  hed  all  you  wanted :  the  paper  blockade 

Smashed  up  into  toothpicks, — unlimited  trade 

In  the  one  thing  that's  needfle,  till  niggers,  I  swow, 

Hed  ben  thicker  'n  provisional  shinplasters  now, — 

Quinine  by  the  ton  'ginst  the  shakes  when  they  seize  ye,— 

Nice  paper  to  coin  into  C.  S.  A.  specie ; 

The  voice  of  the  driver  'd  be  heerd  in  our  land, 

An'  the  univarse  scringe,  ef  we  lifted  our  hand  : 

Wouldn't  thet  be  some  like  a  fulfillin'  the  prophecies, 

With  all  the  fus'  fem'lies  in  all  the  best  offices  ? 

'Twuz  a  beautiful  dream,  an'  all  sorrer  is  idle, — 

But  <»/"  Lincoln  would  ha'  hanged  Mason  an'  Slidell ! 

They  ain't  no  good  in  European  pellices, 

But  think  wut  a  help  they'd  ha'  ben  on  their  gallowses  I 


2O0  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

They  'd  ha'  felt  they  wuz  truly  fulfiUin'  their  mission, 
An',  oh,  how  dog-cheap  we'd  ha'  gut  Reecognition ! 

But  somehow  another,  wutever  we've  tried, 

Though  the  the'ry's  fust-rate,  the  facs  wutit  coincide  : 

Facs  are  contrary  'z  mules,  an'  ez  hard  in  the  mouth. 

An'  they  alius  hev  showed  a  mean  spite  to  the  South. 

Sech  bein'  the  case,  we  hed  best  look  about 

For  some  kin'  o'  way  to  slip  our  necks  out : 

Le'  's  vote  our  las'  dollar,  ef  one  can  be  found, 

(An',  at  any  rate,  votin'  it  hez  a  good  sound,) — 

Le'  's  swear  thet  to  arms  all  our  people  is  flyin', 

(The  critters  can't  read,  an'  wun't  know  how  we're  lyin',) — 

Thet  Toombs  is  advancin'  to  sack  Cincinnater, 

With  a  rovin'  commission  to  pillage  an'  slarter, — 

Thet  we've   throwed   to   the   winds    all   regard   for   wut's 

lawfle, 
An'  gone  in  for  sunthin'  promiscu'sly  awfle. 
Ye  see,  hitherto,  it's  our  own  knaves  an'  fools 
Thet  we've  used, — those  for  whetstones,  an'  t'  others  ez 

tools, — 
An'  now  our  las'  chance  is  in  puttin'  to  test 
The  same  kin'  o'  cattle  up  North  an'  out  West. 

I But,  Gennlemen,  here's  a  despatch  jes'  come  in 

Which  shows  thet  the  tide's  begun  turnin'  agin, — 
Gret  Cornfedrit  success  !     C'lumbus  eevacooated ! 
I  mus'  run  down  an'  hev  the  thing  properly  stated, 
An'  show  wut  a  triumph  it  is,  and  how  lucky 
To  fin'Uy  git  red  o'  thet  cussed  Kentucky, — 
An'  how,  sence  Fort  Donelson,  winnin'  the  day 
Consists  in  triumphantly  gittin'  away. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  201 

SPEECH  OF  HONOURABLE  PRESERVED  DOE 
IN  SECRET  CAUCUS. 

To  THE  Editors  of  the  "Atlantic  Monthly." 

Jaalam,  I2th  April  1862, 
Gentlemen, — ^As  I  cannot  but  hope  that  the  ultimate,  if  not  speedy, 
success  of  the  national  arms  is  now  sufficiently  ascertained,  sure  as  I  am 
of  the  righteousness  of  our  cause  and  its  consequent  claim  on  the  bless- 
ing of  God  (for  I  would  not  show  a  faith  inferior  to  that  of  the  pagan 
historian  with  his  Facile  evenit  quod  Dts  cordi  est),  it  seems  to  me  a 
suitable  occasion  to  withdraw  our  minds  a  moment  from  the  confusing 
din  of  battle  to  objects  of  peaceful  and  permanent  interest.  Let  us  not 
neglect  the  monuments  of  preterite  history  because  what  shall  be  history 
is  so  diligently  making  under  our  eyes.  Ci-as  ingens  iterahimus  <zquor; 
to-morrow  will  be  time  enough  for  that  stormy  sea ;  to-day  let  me 
engage  the  attention  of  your  readers  with  the  Runic  inscription  to  whose 
fortunate  discovery  I  have  heretofore  alluded.  Well  may  we  say  with 
the  poet,  Multa  renascunlur  qua  jam  cecidere.  And  I  would  pre- 
mise that,  although  I  can  no  longer  resist  the  evidence  of  my  own 
senses  from  the  stone  before  me  to  the  ante-Columbian  discovery  of  this 
continent  by  the  Northmen,  ge^ts  tnclytissima,  as  they  are  called  in  a 
Palermitan  inscription,  written  fortunately  in  a  less  debatable  character 
than  that  which  I  am  about  to  decipher,  yet  I  would  by  no  means  be 
understood  as  wishing  to  vilipend  the  merits  of  the  great  Genoese, 
whose  name  will  never  be  forgotten  so  long  as  the  inspiring  strains  of 
"Hail,  Columbia!"  shall  continue  to  be  heard.  Though  he  must  be 
stripped  also  of  whatever  praise  may  belong  to  the  experiment  of 
the  egg,  which  I  find  proverbially  attributed  by  Castilian  authors  to 
a  certain  Juanito  or  Jack  (perhaps  an  offshoot  of  our  giant-killing 
mythus),  his  name  will  still  remain  one  of  the  most  illustrious  of  modern 
times.  But  the  impartial  historian  owes  a  duty  likewise  to  obscure 
merit,  and  my  solicitude  to  render  a  tardy  justice  is  perhaps  quickened 
by  my  having  known  those  who,  had  their  own  field  of  labour  been  less 
secluded,  might  have  found  a  readier  acceptance  with  the  reading 
public.  I  could  give  an  example,  but  I  forbear :  forsitan  nostris  ex 
ossibus  oritur  ultor. 

Touching  Runic  inscriptions,  I  find  that  they  may  be  classed  under 
I  three  general  heads:    l°.  Those  which  are  understood  by  the  Danish 


202  THE  BJGLOW  PAPERS. 

Royal  Society  of  Northern  Antiquaries,  and  Professor  Rafn,  their 
Secretary;  2°.  Those  which  are  comprehensible  only  by  Mr.  Rafn;  and 
3°.  Those  which  neither  the  Society,  Mr.  Rafn,  nor  anybody  else,  can 
be  said  in  any  definite  sense  to  understand,  and  which  accordingly  offer 
peculiar  temptations  to  enucleating  sagacity.  These  last  are  naturally 
deemed  the  most  valuable  by  intelligent  antiquaries,  and  to  tins  class 
the  stone  now  in  my  possession  fortunately  belongs.  Such  give  a  pic- 
turesque variety  to  ancient  events,  because  susceptible  oftentimes  of  as 
many  interpretations  as  there  are  individual  archaeologists;  and  since 
facts  are  only  the  pulp  in  which  the  Idea  or  event-seed  is  softly 
imbedded  till  it  ripen,  it  is  of  little  consequence  what  colour  or  flavour 
we  attribute  to  them,  provided  it  be  agreeable.  Availing  myself  of  the 
obliging  assistance  of  Mr.  Arphaxad  Bowers,  an  ingenious  photo- 
graphic artist,  whose  house-on-wheels  has  now  stood  for  three  years  on 
our  Meeting-House  Green,  with  the  somewhat  contradictory  inscrip- 
tion,— "Our  motto  is  onward" — I  have  sent  accural*  copies  of  my 
treasure  to  many  learned  men  and  societies,  both  native  and  European. 
I  may  hereafter  communicate  their  different  and  [tne  judice)  equally 
erroneous  solutions.  I  solicit  also,  Messrs.  Editors,  your  own  accept- 
ance of  the  copy  herewith  enclosed.  I  need  only  premise  further,  that 
the  stone  itself  is  a  goodly  block  of  metamorphic  sandstone,  and  that 
the  Runes  resemble  very  nearly  the  ornithichnites  or  fossil  bird-tracks  of 
Dr.  Hitchcock,  but  with  less  regularity  or  apparent  design  than  is  dis- 
played by  those  remarkable  geological  monuments.  These  are  rather 
the  non  benejtinctaium  discordia  setnina  retutn.  Resolved  to  leave  no 
door  open  to  cavil,  I  first  of  all  attempted  the  elucidation  of  this 
remarkable  example  of  lithic  literature  by  the  ordinary  modes,  but  with 
no  adequate  return  for  my  labour.  I  then  considered  myself  amply 
justified  in  resorting  to  that  heroic  treatment  the  felicity  of  which,  as 
applied  by  the  great  Bentley  to  Milton,  had  long  ago  enlisted  my 
admiration.  Indeed,  I  had  already  made  up  my  mind  that,  in  case 
good-fortune  should  throw  any  such  invaluable  record  in  my  way,  I 
would  proceed  with  it  in  the  following  simple  and  satisfactory  method. 
After  a  cursory  examination,  merely  sufficing  for  an  approximative 
estimate  of  its  length,  I  would  write  down  a  hypothetical  inscription 
based  upon  antecedent  probabilities,  and  then  proceed  to  extract  from 
the  characters  engraven  on  the  stone  a  meaning  as  nearly  as  possible 
conformed  to  this  a  priori  product  of  my  own  ingenuity.  The  result 
more  than  justified  my  hopes,  inasmuch  as  the  two  inscriptions  were 
noade  without  any  great  violence  to  tally  in  all  essential  particulars.     I 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  203 

then  proceeded,  not  without  some  anxiety,  to  my  second  test,  which 
was  to  read  the  Runic  letters  diagonally,  and  again  with  the  same 
success.  With  an  excitement  pardonable  under  the  circumstances,  yet 
tempered  with  thankful  humility,  I  now  applied  my  last  and  severest 
trial,  my  experimentum  crucis,  I  turned  the  stone,  now  doubly  precious 
in  my  eyes,  with  scrupulous  exactness  upside  down.  The  physical 
exertion  so  far  displaced  my  spectacles  as  to  derange  for  a  moment  the 
focus  of  vision.  I  confess  that  it  was  with  some  tremulousness  that  I 
readjusted  them  upon  my  nose,  and  prepared  my  mind  to  bear  with 
calmness  any  disappointment  that  might  ensue.  But,  0  albo  dies 
rto.'anda  lapillo !  what  was  my  delight  to  find  that  the  change  of 
position  had  effected  none  in  the  sense  of  the  writing,  even  by  so  much 
as  a  single  letter  !  I  was  now,  and  justly,  as  I  think,  satisfied  of  the 
conscientious  exactness  of  my  interpretation.     It  is  as  follows : — 

HERE 

BJARNA  GRIMOLFSSON 

FIRST   DRANK   CLOUD-BROTHER 

THROUGH   CHILD-OF-LAND-AND-WATER : 

that  is,  drew  smoke  through  a  reed  stem.  In  other  words,  we  have 
here  a  record  of  the  first  smoking  of  the  herb  Nicotiana  'labacum  by  a 
European  on  this  continent.  The  probable  results  of  this  discovery 
are  so  vast  as  to  baffle  conjecture.  If  it  be  objected  that  the  smoking 
of  a  pipe  would  hardly  justify  the  setting  up  of  a  memorial  stone, 
I  answer  that  even  now  the  Moquis  Indian,  ere  he  takes  his 
first  whiff,  bows  reverently  toward  the  four  quarters  of  the  sky 
in  succession,  and  that  the  loftiest  monuments  have  been  reared  to 
perpetuate  fame,  which  is  the  dream  of  the  shadow  of  smoke.  The 
Saga,  it  will  be  remembered,  leaves  this  Bjarna  to  a  fate  something  like 
that  of  Sir  Humphrey  Gilbert,  on  board  a  sinking  ship  in  the  "  wormy 
sea,"  having  generously  given  up  his  place  in  the  boat  to  a  certain 
Icelander.  It  is  doubly  pleasant,  therefore,  to  meet  with  this  proof 
that  the  brave  old  man  arrived  safely  in  Vinland,  and  that  his  declining 
years  were  cheered  by  the  respectful  attentions  of  the  dusky  denizens 
of  our  then  uninvaded  forests.  Most  of  all  was  I  gratified,  however, 
in  thus  linking  for  ever  the  name  of  my  native  town  with  one  of  the 
most  momentous  occurrences  of  modern  times.  Hitherto  Jaalam, 
though  in  soil,  climate,  and  geographical  position  as  highly  qualified 
to  be  the  theatre  of  remarkable  historical  incidents  as  any  spot  on  the 


204  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

earth's  surface,  has  been,  if  I  may  say  it  without  seeming  to  question 
the  wisdom  of  Providence,  almost  maliciously  neglected,  as  it  might 
appear,  by  occurrences  of  world-wide  interest  in  want  of  a  situation. 
And  in  matters  of  this  nature  it  must  be  confessed  that  adequate  events 
are  as  necessary  as  the  vates  sacer  to  record  them.  Jaalam  stood  always 
modestly  ready,  but  circumstances  made  no  fitting  response  to  her 
generous  intentions.  Now,  however,  she  assumes  her  place  on  the 
historic  roll.  I  have  hitherto  been  a  zealous  opponent  of  the  Circean 
herb,  but  I  shall  now  re-examine  the  question  without  bias. 

I  am  aware  that  the  Rev.  Jonas  Tutchel,  in  a  recent  communication 
to  the  Bogus  Four  Corners  Weekly  Meridian,  has  endeavoured  to  show 
that  this  is  the  sepulchral  inscription  of  Thorwald  Eriksson,  who,  as  is 
well  known,  was  slain  in  Vinland  by  the  natives.  But  I  think  he  has 
been  misled  by  a  preconceived  theory,  and  cannot  but  feel  that  he  has 
thus  made  an  ungracious  return  for  my  allowing  him  to  inspect  the 
stone  with  the  aid  of  my  own  glasses  (he  having  by  accident  left  his 
at  home)  and  in  my  own  study.  The  heathen  ancients  might  have 
instructed  this  Christian  minister  in  the  rites  of  hospitality  ;  but  much 
is  to  be  pardoned  to  the  spirit  of  self-love.  He  must  indeed  be 
ingenious  who  can  make  out  the  words  hlr  hvilir  from  any  characters 
in  the  inscription  in  question,  which,  whatever  else  it  may  be,  is 
certainly  not  mortuary.  And  even  should  the  reverend  gentleman 
succeed  in  persuading  some  fantastical  wits  of  the  soundness  of  his 
views,  I  do  not  see  what  useful  end  he  will  have  gained.  For  if  the 
English  Courts  of  Law  hold  the  testimony  of  grave-stones  from  the 
burial-grounds  of  Protestant  dissenters  to  be  questionable,  even  where 
it  is  essential  in  proving  a  descent,  I  cannot  conceive  that  the  epitaphial 
assertions  of  heathens  should  be  esteemed  of  more  authority  by  any 
man  of  orthodox  sentiments. 

At  this  moment,  happening  to  cast  my  eyes  upon  the  stone,  on  which 
a  transverse  light  from  my  southern  window  brings  out  the  characters 
with  singular  distinctness,  another  interpretation  has  occurred  to  me, 
promising  even  more  interesting  results.  I  hasten  to  close  my  letter  in 
order  to  follow  at  once  the  clue  thus  providentially  suggested. 

I  inclose,  as  usual,  a  contribution  from  Mr.  Biglow,  and  remain, 
Gentlemen,  with  esteem  and  respect. 

Your  Obedient  Humble  Servant, 

HOMER  WILBUR,  A.M. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  205 

I  THANK  ye,  my  friens,  for  the  warmth  o'  your  greetin': 

Ther*  's  few  airthly  blessins  but  wut's  vain  an'  fleetin'j 

But  ef  ther'  is  one  thet  hain't  no  cracks  an'  flaws, 

An'  is  wuth  goin'  in  for,  it's  pop'lar  applause; 

It  sends  up  the  sperits  ez  lively  ez  rockets. 

An'  I  feel  it — wal,  down  to  the  eend  o'  my  pocket. 

Jes'  lovin'  the  people  is  Canaan  in  view, 

But  it's  Canaan  paid  quarterly  t'  hev  'em  love  you; 

It's  a  blessin'  thet's  breakin'  out  oUus  in  fresh  spots; 

It's  a-follerin'  Moses  'thout  losin'  the  flesh-pots. 

But,  Gennlemen,  'scuse  me,  I  ain't  sech  a  raw  cus 

Ez  to  go  luggin'  ellerkence  into  a  caucus, — 

Thet  is,  into  one  where  the  call  comprehens 

Nut  the  People  in  person,  but  on'y  their  friens; 

I'm  so  kin'  o'  used  to  convincin'  the  masses 

Of  th'  edvantage  o'  bein'  self-governin'  asses, 

I  forgut  thet  we\^  all  o'  the  sort  thet  pull  wires 

An'  arrange  for  the  public  their  wants  an'  desires, 

An'  thet  wut  we  hed  met  for  wuz  jes'  to  agree 

Wut  the  People's  opinions  in  futur"  should  be. 

But  to  come  to  the  nub,  we've  ben  all  disappinted, 

An'  our  leadin'  idees  are  a  kind  o'  disjinted, — 

Though,  fur  ez  the  nateral  man  could  discern, 

Things  ough'  to  ha'  took  most  an  oppersite  turn. 

But  The'ry  is  jes'  like  a  train  on  the  rail, 

Thet,  weather  or  no,  puts  her  thru  without  fail, 

While  Fac's  the  ole  stage  thet  gits  sloughed  in  the  ruts, 

An'  hez  to  allow  for  your  darned  efs  an'  buts. 

An'  so,  nut  intendin'  no  pers'nal  reflections, 

They  don't — don't  nut  alius,  thet  is, — make  connections : 

Sometimes,  when  it  really  doos  seem  thet  they'd  oughter 

Combine  jest  ez  kindly  ez  new  rum  an'  water, 


so6  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Both  '11  be  jest  ez  sot  in  their  ways  ez  a  bagnet, 
Ez  otherwise-minded  ez  th'  eends  of  a  magnet, 
An'  folks  like  you  'n  me,  thet  ain't  ept  to  be  sold, 
Git  somehow  or  'nother  left  out  in  the  cold. 

I  expected  'fore  this,  'thout  no  gret  of  a  row, 

Jeff  D.  would  ha'  ben  where  A.  Lincoln  is  now. 

With  Taney  to  say  'twuz  all  legle  an'  fair, 

An'  a  jury  o'  Deemocrats  ready  to  swear 

Thet  the  ingin  o'  State  gut  throwed  into  the  ditch 

By  the  fault  o'  the  North  in  misplacin'  the  switch. 

Things  wuz  ripenin'  fust-rate  with  Buchanan  to  nuss  'em ; 

But  the  People  they  wouldn't  be  Mexicans,  cuss  'em ! 

Ain't  the  safeguards  o'  freedom  upsot,  'z  you  may  say, 

Ef  the  right  o'  rev'Iution  is  took  clean  away  ? 

An'  doosn't  the  right  primy-fashy  include 

The  bein'  entitled  to  nut  be  subdued  ? 

The  fact  is,  we'd  gone  for  the  Union  so  strong, 

When  Union  meant  South  ollus  right  an*  North  wrong, 

Thet  the  people  gut  fooled  into  thinkin'  it  might 

Worry  on  middlin'  wal  with  the  North  in  the  right. 

We  might  ha'  ben  now  jest  ez  prosp'rous  ez  France, 

Where  politikle  enterprise  hez  a  fair  chance, 

An'  the  people  is  heppy  an'  proud  et  this  hour, 

Long  ez  they  hev  the  votes,  to  let  Nap  hev  the  power ; 

But  our  folks  they  went  an'  believed  wut  we'd  told  'em, 

An',  the  flag  once  insulted,  no  mortle  could  hold  'em. 

'Twuz  pervokin'  jest  when  we  wuz  cert'in  to  win, — 

An'  I,  for  one,  wun't  trust  the  masses  agin : 

For  a  people  thet  knows  much  ain't  fit  to  be  free 

In  the  self-cockin',  back-action  style  o'  J.  D. 

I  can't  believe  now  but  wut  half  on't  is  lies; 
For  who'd  thought  the  North  wuz  a-goin'  to  rise, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  207 

Or  take  the  pervokin'est  kin'  of  a  stump, 

'Thout  'twuz  sunthin'  ez  pressin'  ez  Gabr'el's  las'  trump  ? 

Or  who'd  ha'  supposed,  arter  sech  swell  an'  bluster 

'Bout  the  lick-ary-ten-on-ye  fighters  they'd  muster, 

Raised  by  hand  on  briled  lightnin',  ez  op'lent  'z  you  please 

In  a  primitive  furrest  o'  femmily-trees, 

Who'd  ha'  thought  thet  them  Southuners  ever  'ud  show 

Starns  with  pedigrees  to  'em  like  theirn  to  the  foe, 

Or,  when  the  vamosin'  come,  ever  to  find 

Nat'ral  masters  in  front  an'  mean  white  folks  behind  ? 

By  ginger,  ef  I'd  ha'  known  half  I  know  now 

When  I  wuz  to  Congress,  I  wouldn't,  I  swow. 

Hev  let  'em  cair  on  so  high-minded  an'  sarsy, 

'Thout  some  show  o'  wut  you  may  call  vicy-varsy 

To  be  sure,  we  wuz  under  a  contrac'  jes'  then 

To  be  drefiie  forbearin'  to  >ards  Southun  men ; 

We  hed  to  go  sheers  in  preservin'  the  bellance : 

An'  ez  they  seemed  to  feel  they  wuz  wastin'  their  tellents 

'Thout   some   un  to  kick,  't  warn't   more  'n  proper,   you 

know, 
Each  should  funnish  his  part;  an'  sence  they  found  the 

toe. 
An'  we  wuzn't  cherubs — wal,  we  found  the  buffer, 
For  fear  thet  the  Compromise  System  should  suffer. 

I  wun't  say  the  plan  hedn't  onpleasant  featurs, — 
For  men  are  perverse  an'  onreasonin'  creaturs. 
An'  forgit  thet  in  this  life  't  ain't  likely  to  heppen 
Their  own  privit  fancy  should  ollus  be  cappen, — 
But  it  worked  jest  ez  smooth  ez  the  key  of  a  safe. 
An'  the  gret  Union  bearins  played  free  from  all  chafe. 
They  warn't  hard  to  suit,  ef  they  hed  their  own  way; 
An'  we  (thet  is,  some  on  us)  made  the  thing  pay: 


2o8  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS, 

'Twuz  a  fair  give-an'-take  out  of  Uncle  Sam's  heap ; 

Ef  they  took  wut  warn't  theirn,  wut  we  give  come  ez  cheap ; 

The  elect  gut  the  offices  down  to  tidewaiter, 

The  people  took  skinnin'  ez  mild  ez  a  tater, 

Seemed  to  choose  who  they  wanted  tu,  footed  the  bills, 

An'  felt  kind  o'  'z  though  they  wuz  havin'  their  wills, 

Which  kep'  'em  ez  harmless  an'  cherfle  as  crickets, 

While  all  we  invested  wuz  names  on  the  tickets : 

Wal,  ther*  's  nothin'  for  folks  fond  o'  lib'ral  consumption, 

Free  o'  charge,  like  democ'acy  tempered  with  gumption ! 

Now  warn't  thet  a  system  wuth  pains  in  presarvin', 

Where  the  people  found  jints  an'  their  friens  done   the 

carvin', — 
Where  the  many  done  all  o'  their  thinkin'  by  proxy, 
An'   were  proud  on  't  ez   long  ez  'twuz  christened   De- 

moc'cy, — 
Where  the  few  let  us  sap  all  o'  Freedom's  foundations, 
Ef  you  called  it  reformin'  with  prudence  an'  patience. 
An'  were  willin'  Jeff's  snake-egg  should  hetch  with  the  rest, 
Ef  you  writ  "Constitootional"  over  the  nest? 
But  it's  all  out  o'  kilter  ('twuz  too  good  to  last), 
An'  all  jes'  by  J.  D.'s  perceedin'  too  fast ; 
Ef  he'd  on'y  hung  on  for  a  month  or  two  more. 
We'd  ha'  gut  things  fixed  nicer  'n  they  hed  ben  before : 
Afore  he  drawed  off  an'  lef  all  in  confusion. 
We  wuz  safely  intrenched  in  the  ole  Constitootion, 
With  an  outlyin',  heavy-gun,  casemated  fort 
To  rake  all  assailants, — I  mean  th'  S.  J.  Court. 
Now  I  never  '11  acknowledge  (nut  ef  you  should  skin  me) 
'Twuz  wise  to  abandon  sech  works  to  the  in'my, 
An'  let  him  fin'  out  thet  wut  scared  him  so  long, 
Our  whole  line  of  argyments,  lookin'  so  strong, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  209 

All  our  Scriptur'  an'  law,  every  the'ry  an'  fac', 
Wuz  Quaker-guns  daubed  with  Pro-slavery  black. 
Why,  ef  the  Republicans  ever  should  git 
Andy  Johnson  or  some  one  to  lend  'em  the  wit 
An'  the  spunk  jes'  to  mount  Constitootion  an'  Cou. . 
With  Columbiad  guns,  your  real  ekle-rights  sort, 
Or  drill  out  the  spike  from  the  ole  Declaration 
Thet  can  kerry  a  solid  shot  clearn  roun'  creation, 
We'd  better  take  maysures  for  shettin'  up  shop, 
An'  put  off  our  stock  by  a  vendoo  or  swop. 

But  they  wun't  never  dare  tu ;  you'll  see  'em  in  Edom 

'Fore  they  ventur'  to  go  where  their  doctrines  'ud  lead  'em  : 

They've  ben  takin'  our  princerples  up  ez  we  dropt  'em, 

An'  thought  it  wuz  terrible  'cute  to  adopt  'em ; 

But  they'll  fin'  out  'fore  long  thet  their  hop's  ben  deceivin'  'em 

An'  thet  princerpLes  ain't  o'  no  good,  ef  you  b'lieve  in  'em ; 

It  makes  'em  tu  stiff  for  a  party  to  use. 

Where  they'd  ough'  to  be  easy  'z  an  ole  pair  o'  shoes. 

If  we  say  'n  our  pletform  thet  all  men  are  brothers. 

We   don't   mean  thet  some  folks   ain't  more  so  'n  some 

others ; 
An'  it's  wal  understood  thet  we  make  a  selection, 
An'  thet  brotherhood  kin'  o'  subsides  arter  'lection. 
The  fust  thing  for  sound  politicians  to  lam  is, 
Thet  Truth,  to  dror  kindly  in  all  sorts  o'  harness, 
Mus'  be  kep'  in  the  abstract, — for,  come  to  apply  it, 
You're  ept  to  hurt  some  folks's  interists  by  it. 
Wal,  these  'ere  Republicans  (some  on  'em)  acs 
Ez  though  gineral  mexims  'ud  suit  speshle  facs ; 
An'  there's  where  we'll  nick  'em,  there's  where  they'll , be , 

lost:  ^     I 

For  applvin'  vour  princerple  's  wut  makes  it  cost,  .    .< 

14 


2 1  o  THE  BIGL 0  W  PAPERS. 

An'  folks  don't  want  Fourth  o'  July  t'  interfere 
With  the  business-consarns  o'  the  rest  o'  the  year, 
No  more  'n  they  want  Sunday  to  pry  an'  to  peek 
Into  wut  they  are  doin'  the  rest  o'  the  week. 

A  ginooine  statesman  should  be  on  his  guard, 

Ef  he  must  hev  beliefs,  nut  to  b'lieve  'em  tu  hard ; 

For,  ez  sure  ez  he  does,  he'll  be  blartin'  'em  out 

'Thout  regardin'  the  natur'  o'  man  more  'n  a  spout, 

Nor  it  don't  ask  much  gumption  to  pick  out  a  flaw 

In  a  party  whose  leaders  are  loose  in  the  jaw : 

An'  so  in  our  own  case  I  ventu'r'  to  hint 

Thet  we'd  better  nut  air  our  perceedins  in  print, 

Nor  pass  resserlootions  ez  long  ez  your  arm 

Thet  may,  ez  things  heppen  to  turn,  do  us  harm ; 

For  when  you've  done  all  your  real  mean  in'  to  smother, 

The  darned  things  'II  up  an'  mean  sunthin'  or  'nother. 

JefFson  prob'ly  meant  wal  with  his  "  born  free  an'  ekle," 

But  it's  turned  out  a  real  crooked  stick  in  the  sekle ; 

It's  taken  full  eighty-odd  year — don't  you  see  ? — 

For  the  pop'lar  belief  to  root  out  thet  idee, 

An',  arter  all,  sprouts  on't  keep  on  buddin'  forth 

In  the  nat'lly  onprincipled  mind  o'  the  North. 

No,  never  say  nothin'  without  you're  compelled  tu, 

An'  then  don't  say  nothin'  thet  you  can  be  held  tu. 

Nor  don't  leave  no  friction-idees  layin'  loose 

For  the  ign'ant  to  put  to  incend'ary  use. 

You  know  I'm  a  feller  tket  keeps  a  skinned  eye 
On  the  leetle  events  thet  go  skurryin'  by, 
Coz  it's  of  ner  by  them  than  by  gret  ones  you'll  see 
/  Wut  the  p'litickle  weather  is  likely  to  be. 


THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS.  2 1 1 

Now  I  don't  think  the  South's  more  'n  begun  to  be  licked, 

But  I  du  think,  ez  Jeff  says,  the  wind-bag's  gut  pricked ; 

It'll  blow  for  a  spell  an'  keep  puffin'  an'  wheezin', 

The  tighter  our  army  an'  navy  keep  squeezin'. — 

For  they  can't  help  spread-eaglein'  long  'z  ther'  's  a  mouth 

To  blow  Enfield's  Speaker  thru  lef  at  the  South. 

But  it's  high  time  for  us  to  be  settin'  our  faces 

Towards  reconstructin'  the  national  basis, 

With  an  eye  to  beginnin'  agin  on  the  jolly  ticks 

We  used  to  chalk  up  'hind  the  back-door  o'  politics ; 

An'  the  fus'  thing's  to  save  wut  of  Slav'ry  ther'  's  lef 

Arter  this  (I  mus'  call  it)  imprudence  o'  Jeff 

For  a  real  good  Abuse,  with  its  roots  fur  an'  wide, 

Is  the  kin'  o'  thing  /  like  to  hev  on  my  side ; 

A  Scriptur'  name  makes  it  ez  sweet  ez  a  rose, 

An'  it's  tougher  the  older  an'  uglier  it  grows — 

(I  ain't  speakin'  now  o'  the  righteousness  of  it, 

But  the  p'litickle  purchase  it  gives,  an'  the  profit).      > 

Things  look  pooty  squally,  it  must  be  allowed, 

An'  I  don't  see  much  signs  of  a  bow  in  the  cloud : 

Ther'  's  too  many  Deemocrats — leaders,  wut's  wuss — 

Thet  go  for  the  Union  'thout  carin'  a  cuss 

Ef  it  helps  ary  party  thet  ever  wuz  heard  on. 

So  our  eagle  ain't  made  a  split  Austrian  bird  on. 

But  ther'  's  still  some  conservative  signs  to  be  found 

Thet  shows  the  gret  heart  o'  the  People  is  sound  : 

(Excuse  me  for  usin'  a  stump-phrase  agin, 

But,  once  in  the  way  on  't,  they  will  stick  like  sin  :) 

There's  Phillips,  for  instance,  hez  jes'  ketched  a  Tartar 

In  the  I.aw-'n'-Order  Party  of  ole  Cincinnater ; 

An'  the  Compromise  System  ain't  gone  out  o'  reach, 

Long  'z  you  keep  the  right  limits  on  freedom  o'  speech 

'Twarn't  none  too  late,  neither,  to  put  on  the  gag, 


212  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

For  he's  dangerous  now  he  goes  in  for  the  flag : 

Nut  thet  I  altogether  approve  o'  bad  eggs, 

They're  mos'  gin'lly  argymunt  on  its  las'  legs, — 

An'  their  logic  is  ept  to  be  tu  indiscriminate. 

Nor  don't  oUus  wait  the  right  objecs  to  'liminate  j 

But  there  is  a  variety  on  'em,  you'll  find. 

Jest  ez  usefle  an'  more,  besides  bein'  refined, — 

I  mean  o'  the  sort  thet  are  laid  by  the  dictionary, 

Sech  ez  sophisms  an'  cant  thet'U  kerry  conviction  ary 

Way  thet  you  want  to  the  right  class  o'  men, 

An'  are  staler  than  all 't  ever  come  from  a  hen : 

"  Disunion  "  done  wal  till  our  resh  Southun  friends 

Took  the  savor  all  out  on  't  for  national  ends ; 

But  I  guess  "  Abolition  "  'U  work  a  spell  yit, 

When  the  war's  done,  an'  so  will  "  Forgive-an'-forgit" 

Times  mus'  be  pooty  thoroughly  out  o'  all  jint, 

Ef  we  can't  make  a  good  constitootional  pint ; 

An'  the  good  time  '11  come  to  be  grindin'  our  exes, 

When  the  war  goes  to  seed  in  the  nettle  o'  texes : 

Ef  Jon'than  don't  squirm,  with  sech  helps  to  assist  him, 

I  give  up  my  faith  in  the  free-suffrage  system ; 

Democ'cy  wun't  be  nut  a  mite  interestin*, 

Nor  p'litikle  capital  much  wuth  investin' ; 

An'  my  notion  is,  to  keep  dark  an'  lay  low 

Till  we  see  the  right  minute  to  put  in  our  blow. — 

But  I've  talked  longer  now  *n  I  hed  any  idee, 

An'  ther'  's  others  you  want  to  hear  more  'n  you  du  me ; 

So  I'll  set  down  an'  give  thet  'ere  bottle  a  skrimmage, 

For  I've  spoke  till  I'm  dry  ez  a  real  graven  image. 


THE  BIGLO  W  PAPERS.  213 

SUNTHIN'  IN   THE   PASTORAL   LINE. 
To  THE  Editors  of  the  "Atlantic  Monthly." 

Jaalam,  17th  May  1862. 

Gentlemen, — At  the  special  request  of  Mr.  Biglow,  I  intended  to 
enclose,  together  with  his  own  contribution  (into  which,  at  my  suggestion, 
he  has  thrown  a  little  more  of  pastoral  sentiment  than  usual),  some 
passages  from  my  sermon  on  the  day  of  the  National  Fast,  from  the  text, 
"  Remember  them  that  are  in  bonds,  as  bound  with  them,"Heb.  xiii.  3. 
But  I  have  not  leisure  sufificient  at  present  for  the  copying  of  them,  even 
were  I  altogether  satisfied  with  the  production  as  it  stands.  I  should 
prefer,  I  confess,  to  contribute  the  entire  discourse  to  the  pages  of  your 
respectable  miscellany,  if  it  should  be  found  acceptable  upon  perusal, 
especially  as  I  find  the  difficulty  of  selection  of  greater  magnitude  than 
I  had  anticipated.  What  passes  without  challenge  in  the  fervour  of 
oral  deUvery  cannot  always  stand  the  colder  criticism  of  the  closet.  I 
am  not  so  great  an  enemy  of  Eloquence  as  my  friend  Mr.  Biglow  would 
appear  to  be  from  some  passages  in  his  contribution  for  the  current 
month.  I  would  not,  indeed,  hastily  suspect  him  of  covertly  glancing 
at  myself  in  his  somewhat  caustic  animadversions,  albeit  some  of  the 
phrases  he  girds  at  are  not  entire  strangers  to  my  lips.  I  am  a  more 
hearty  admirer  of  the  Puritans  than  seems  now  to  be  the  fashion,  and 
believe  that,  if  they  Hebraized  a  little  too  much  in  their  speech,  they 
showed  remarkable  practical  sagacity  as  statesmen  and  founders.  But 
such  phenomena  as  Puritanism  are  the  results  rather  of  great  religious 
than  merely  social  convulsions,  and  do  not  long  survive  them.  So  soon 
as  an  earnest  conviction  has  cooled  into  a  phrase,  its  work  is  over,  and 
the  best  that  can  be  done  with  it  is  to  bury  it.  Ite^  missa  est.  I  am 
inclined  to  agree  with  Mr.  Biglow  that  we  cannot  settle  the  great 
political  questions  which  are  now  presenting  themselves  to  the  nation 
by  the  opinions  of  Jeremiah  or  Ezekiel  as  to  the  wants  and  duties  of  the 
Jews  in  their  time,  nor  do  I  believe  that  an  entire  community  with  their 
feelings  and  views  would  be  practicable  or  even  agreeable  at  the  present 
day.  At  the  same  time  I  could  wish  that  their  habit  of  subordinating 
the  actual  to  the  moral,  the  fiesh  to  the  spirit,  and  this  world  to  the 


2 1 4  THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS. 

other,  were  more  common.     They  had  found  out,  at  least,  the  great 
mihtary  secret  that  soul  weighs  more  than  body. — But  I  am  suddenly 
called  to  a  sick-bed  in  the  household  of  a  valued  parishioner. 
With  esteem  and  respect. 

Your  obedient  servant, 

HOMER  WILBUR. 

Once  git  a  smell  o'  musk  into  a  draw 

An'  it  clings  hold  like  precerdents  in  law  : 

Your    gran'ma'am    put    it    there,  —  when,    goodness 

knows — 
To  jes'  this-worldify  her  Sunday-clo'es  ; 
But  the  old  chist  wun't  sarve  her  gran'son's  wife, 
(For,  'thout  new  funnitoor,  wut  good  in  life  ?) 
An'  so  ole  clawfoot,  from  the  precinks  dread 
O'  the  spare  chamber,  slinks  into  the  shed, 
Where,  dim  with  dust,  it  fust  or  last  subsides 
To  holdin'  seeds  an'  fifty  things  besides  ; 
But  better  days  stick  fast  in  heart  an'  husk, 
An'  all  you  keep  in  't  gits  a  scent  o'  musk. 

Jes'  so  with  poets  :  wut  they've  airly  read 
Gits  kind  o'  worked  into  their  heart  an'  head. 
So  's  't  they  can't  seem  to  write  but  jest  on  sheers 
With  furrin  countries  or  played-out  ideers, 
Nor  hev  a  feelin',  ef  it  doosn't  smack 
O'  wut  some  critter  chose  to  feel  'way  back  : 
This  makes  'em  talk  o'  daisies,  larks,  an'  things, 
Ez  though  we'd  nothin'  here  that  blows  an'  sings, — 
(Why,  I'd  give  more  for  one  live  bobolink 
Than  a  square  mile  o'  larks  in  printer's  ink,) — 
This  makes  'em  think  our  fust  o'  May  is  May, 
Which  't  ain't,  for  all  the  almanicks  can  say. 


THE  BIGL  OW  PA  PERS,  2 1 5 

O  little  city-p;als,  don't  never  go  it 
Blind  on  th«  word  o'  noospaper  or  poet ! 
They're  apt  co  puff,  an'  May-day  seldom  looks 
Up  in  the  country  ez  it  doos  in  books  ; 
They're  no  more  like  than  hornets'-nests  an'  hives, 
Or  printed  sarmons  be  to  holy  lives. 
I,  with  my  trouses  perched  on  cow-hide  boots, 
Tuggin'  my  foundered  feet  out  by  the  roots, 
Hev  seen  ye  come  to  fling  on  April's  hearse 
Your  muslin  nosegays  from  the  milliner's, 
Puzzlin'  to  find  dry  ground  your  queen  to  choose, 
An'  dance  your  throats  sore  in  morocker  shoes  : 
I've  seen  ye  an'  felt  proud,  thet,  come  wut  would, 
Our  Pilgrim  stock  wuz  pithed  with  hardihood. 
Pleasure  doos  make  us  Yankees  kind  o'  winch, 
Ez  though  'twuz  sunthin'  paid  for  by  the  inch ; 
But  yit  we  du  contrive  to  worry  thru, 
Ef  Dooty  tells  us  thet  the  thing  's  to  du, 
An'  kerry  a  hollerday,  ef  we  set  out, 
Ez  stiddily  ez  though  'twuz  a  redoubt. 

I,  country-born  an'  bred,  know  where  to  find 
Some  blooms  thet  make  the  season  suit  the  mind, 
An'  seem  to  match  the  doubtin'  bluebird's  notes, — 
Half-vent'rin'  liverworts  in  furry  coats, 
Bloodroots,  whose  rolled-up  leaves  ef  you  oncurl, 
Each  on  'em  's  cradle  to  a  baby-pearl, — 
But  these  are  jes'  Spring's  pickets ;  sure  ez  sin, 
The  rebble  frosts  '11  try  to  drive  'em  in  ; 
For  half  our  May  's  so  awfully  like  May  n't, 
'T would  rile  a  Shaker  or  an  evrige  saint ; 
Though  I  own  up  I  like  our  back'ard  springs 
Thet  kind  o'  haggle  with  their  greens  an'  things. 


«l6  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

An*  when  you  'most  give  up,  without  more  words 
Toss  the  fields  full  o'  blossoms,  leaves,  an'  birds  : 
Thet's  Northun  natur',  slow  an'  apt  to  doubt, 
But  when  it  doos  git  stirred,  ther*  's  no  gin-out ! 

Fust  come  the  blackbirds  clatt'rin'  in  tall  trees, 
An'  setthn'  things  in  windy  Congresses, — 
Queer  politicians,  though,  for  I'll  be  skinned, 
Ef  all  on  'em  don't  head  aginst  the  wind. 
'Fore  long  the  trees  begin  to  show  belief, — 
The  maple  crimsons  to  a  coral-reef. 
Then  saffern  swarms  swing  off  from  all  the  willers 
So  plump  they  look  like  yaller  caterpillars. 
Then  grey  hossches'nuts  leetle  hands  unfold 
Softer  'n  a  baby's  be  at  three  days  old : 
This  is  the  robin's  almanick ;  he  knows 
Thet  arter  this  ther'  's  only  blossom-snows ; 
So,  choosin'  out  a  handy  crotch  an'  spouse, 
He  goes  to  past'rin'  his  adobe  house. 

Then  seems  to  come  a  hitch, — things  lag  behind. 
Till  some  fine  mornin'  Spring  makes  up  her  mind, 
An*  ez,  when  snow-swelled  rivers  cresh  their  dams 
Heaped-up  with  ice  thet  dovetails  in  an'  jams, 
A  leak  comes  spirtin'  thru  some  pin-hole  cleft. 
Grows  stronger,  fercer,  tears  out  right  an'  left. 
Then  all  the  waters  bow  themselves  an'  come, 
Suddin,  in  one  gret  slope  o'  shedderin'  foam, 
Jes'  so  our  Spring  gits  everythin'  in  tune 
An'  gives  one  leap  from  April  into  June  : 
Then  all  comes  crowdin'  in ;  afore  you  think, 
The  oak-buds  mist  the  side-hill  woods  with  pink. 


THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS.  2 1 7 

The  catbird  in  the  laylock-bush  is  loud, 
The  orchards  turn  to  heaps  o'  rosy  vCloud, 
In  ellum-shrouds  the  flashin'  hangbird  clings 
An'  for  the  summer  vy'ge  his  hammock  slings, 
All  down  the  loose-walled  lanes  in  archin'  bowers 
.  The  barb'ry  droops  its  strings  o'  golden  flowers, 
Whose  shrinkin'  hearts  the  school-gals  love  to  try 
With  pins, — they'll  worry  yourn  so,  boys,  bimeby  ! 
But  I  don't  love  your  cat'logue  style, — do  you  ? — 
Ez  ef  to  sell  all  Natur'  by  vendoo  ; 
One  word  with  blood  in  't  's  twice  ez  good  ez  two 
'Nuff  sed,  June's  bridesman,  poet  o'  the  year. 
Gladness  on  wings,  the  bobolink,  is  here  ; 
Half-hid  in  tip-top  apple-blooms  he  swings, 
Or  climbs  aginst  the  breeze  with  quiverin'  wings, 
Or,  givin'  way  to  't  in  a  mock  despair, 
Runs  down,  a  brook  o'  laughter,  thru  the  air. 


I  oUus  feel  the  sap  start  in  my  veins 

In  Spring,  with  curus  heats  an'  prickly  pains, 

Thet  drive  me,  when  I  git  a  chance,  to  walk 

Off  by  myself  to  hev  a  privit  talk 

With  a  queer  critter  thet  can't  seem  to  'gree 

Along  o'  me  like  most  folks, — Mister  Me. 

Ther'  's  times  when  I'm  unsoshle  ez  a  stone, 

An'  sort  o'  suffocate  to  be  alone, — 

I'm  crowded  jes'  to  think  thet  folks  are  nigh, 

An'  can't  bear  nothin'  closer  than  the  sky ; 

Now  the  wind's  full  ez  shifty  in  the  mind 

Ez  wut  it  is  ou'-doors,  ef  I  ain't  blind, 

An'  sometimes,  in  the  fairest  sou'west  weather, 

My  innard  vane  pints  east  for  weeks  together. 


2 1 8  THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS. 

My  natur'  gits  all  goose-flesh,  an'  my  sins 
Come  drizzlin'  on  my  conscience  sharp  ez  pins  : 
Wal,  et  sech  times  I  jes'  slip  out  o'  sight 
An'  take  it  out  in  a  fair  stan'-up  fight 
With  the  one  cuss  I  can't  lay  on  the  shelf, 
The  crook'dest  stick  in  all  the  heap, — Myself. 

'Twuz  so  las'  Sabbath  arter  meetin'-time  : 

Findin'  my  feelins  wouldn't  noways  rhyme 

With  nobody's,  but  off  the  hendle  flew 

An'  took  things  from  an  east-wind  pint  o'  view, 

I  started  ofi"  to  lose  me  in  the  hills 

Where  the  pines  be,  up  back  o'  'Siah's  Mills : 

Pines,  ef  you're  blue,  are  the  best  friends  I  know, 

They  mope  an'  sigh  an'  sheer  your  feelins  so, — 

They  hesh  the  ground  beneath  so,  tu,  I  swan, 

You  half-forgit  you've  gut  a  body  on. 

Ther'  's  a  small  school'us'  there  where  four  roads  meet, 

The  door-steps  hollered  out  by  little  feet. 

An'  side-posts  carved  with  names  whose  owners  grew 

To  gret  men,  some  on  'em,  an'  deacons,  tu ; 

'T  ain't  used  no  longer,  coz  the  town  hez  gut 

A  high-school,  where  they  teach  the  Lord  knows  wut; 

Three-story  larnin'  's  pop'Iar  now ;  I  guess 

We  thriv*  ez  wal  on  jes'  two  stories  less. 

For  it  strikes  me  ther*  's  sech  a  thing  ez  sinnin' 

By  overloadin'  children's  underpinnin' : 

Wal,  here  it  wuz  I  lamed  my  ABC, 

An'  it's  a  kind  o'  favorite  spot  with  me. 

We're  curus  critters  :  Now  ain't  jes'  the  minute 
Thet  ever  fits  us  easy  while  we're  in  it ; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  2x9 

Long  ez  'twuz  futur',  'twould  be  perfect  bliss, — 
Soon  ez  it's  past,  thet  time's  wuth  ten  o'  this ; 
An'  yit  there  ain't  a  man  thet  need  be  told 
Thet  Now's  the  only  bird  lays  eggs  o'  gold. 
A  knee-high  lad,  I  used  to  plot  an'  plan 
An'  think  'twuz  life's  cap-sheaf  to  be  a  man  j 
Now,  gittin'  grey,  ther's  nothin'  I  enjoy 
Like  dreamin'  back  along  into  a  boy : 
So  the  ole  school'us'  is  a  place  I  choose 
Afore  all  others,  ef  I  want  to  muse  ; 
I  set  down  where  I  used  to  set,  an'  git 
My  boyhood  back,  an'  better  things  with  it, — 
Faith,  Hope,  an'  sunthin',  ef  it  isn't  Cherrity, 
It's  want  o'  guile,  an'  thet's  ez  gret  a  rerrity. 

Now,  'fore  I  knowed,  thet  Sabbath  arternoon 

Thet  I  sot  out  to  tramp  myself  in  tune, 

I  found  me  in  the  school'us'  on  my  seat, 

Drummin'  the  march  to  No-wheres  with  my  feet. 

Thinkin'  o'  nothin',  I've  heerd  ole  folks  say, 

Is  a  hard  kind  o'  dooty  in  its  way : 

It's  thinkin'  everythin'  you  ever  knew, 

Or  ever  hearn,  to  make  your  feelins  blue. 

I  sot  there  tryin'  thet  on  for  a  spell : 

I  thought  o'  the  Rebellion,  then  o'  Hell, 

Which  some  folks  tell  you  now  is  just  a  metterfor 

(A  the'ry,  p'raps,  it  yiun'tfeel  none  the  better  for) ; 

I  thought  o'  Reconstruction,  wut  we'd  win 

Patchin'  our  patent  self-blow-up  agin  : 

I  thought  ef  this  'ere  milkin'  o'  the  wits. 

So  much  a  month,  warn't  givin'  Natur'  fits, — 

Ef  folks  warn't  druv,  findin'  their  own  milk  fail, 

To  work  the  cow  thet  hez  an  iron  tail, 


220  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

An'  ef  idees  'thout  ripenin'  in  the  pan 
Would  send  up  cream  to  humor  ary  man : 
From  this  to  thet  I  let  my  worryin'  creep, 
Till  finally  I  must  ha'  fell  asleep. 

Our  lives  in  sleep  are  some  like  streams  thet  glide 
'Twixt  flesh  an'  sperrit  boundin'  on  each  side, 
Where  both  shores'  shadders  kind  o'  mix  an'  mingle 
In  sunthin'  thet  ain't  jes'  like  either  single ; 
An'  when  you  cast  off  moorins  from  To-day, 
An'  down  towards  To-morrer  drift  away, 
The  imiges  thet  tengle  on  the  stream 
Make  a  new  upside-down'ard  world  o'  dream : 
Sometimes  they  seem  like  sunrise-streaks  an'  warnins 
O'  wut  '11  be  in  Heaven  on  Sabbath-mornins, 
An*,  mixed  right  in  ez  ef  jest  out  o'  spite, 
Sunthin'  thet  says  your  supper  ain't  gone  right 
I'm  gret  on  dreams,  an'  often,  when  I  wake, 
I've  lived  so  much  it  makes  my  mem'ry  ache. 
An'  can't  skurce  take  a  cat-nap  in  my  cheer 
'Thout  hevin'  em,  some  good,  some  bad,  all  queer. 

Now  I  wuz  settin'  where  I'd  ben,  it  seemed. 
An'  ain'^  sure  yit  whether  I  r'ally  dreamed. 
Nor,  ef  I  did,  how  long  I  might  ha'  slep'. 
When  I  hearn  some  un  stompin'  up  the  step. 
An'  lookin'  round,  ef  two  and  two  make  four, 
I  see  a  Pilgrim  Father  in  the  door. 
He  wore  a  steeple-hat,  tall  boots,  an'  spurs 
With  rowels  to  'em  big  ez  ches'nut-burrs, 
An'  his  gret  sword  behind  him  sloped  away 
Long  'z  a  man's  speech  thet  dunno  wut  to  say. — 


THE  BIGL  O  W  PAPERS.  2  2 

"  Ef  your  name's  Biglow,  an'  your  given-name 

Hosee,"  sez  he,  "it's  arter  you  I  came; 

I'm  your  gret-gran'ther  multiplied  by  three." — 

"My  wutV  sez  I. — "Your  gret-gret-gret,"  says  he : 

"You  wouldn't  ha'  never  ben  here  but  for  me. 

Two  hunderd  an'  three  year  ago  this  May 

The  ship  I  come  in  sailed  up  Boston  Bay ; 

I'd  ben  a  cunnle  in  our  Civil  War, — 

But  wut  on  airth  hev  you  gut  up  one  for  ? 

I'm  told  you  write  in  public  prints :  ef  true, 

It's  nateral  you  should  know  a  thing  or  two." — 

"  Thet  air's  an  argymunt  I  can't  endorse, — 

'Twould  prove,  coz  you  wear  spurs,  you  kep'  a  horse : 

For  brains,"  sez  I,  "  wutever  you  may  think. 

Ain't  boun'  to  cash  the  drafs  o'  pen-an'-ink, — 

Though  mos'  folks  write  ez  ef  they  hoped  jes'  quickenin 

The  churn  would  argoo  skim-milk  into  thickenin'  j 

But  skim-milk  ain't  a  thing  to  change  its  view 

O'  usefleness,  no  more  'n  a  smoky  flue. 

But  do  pray  tell  me,  'fore  we  furder  go. 

How  in  all  Natur*  did  you  come  to  know 

'Bout  our  affairs,"  sez  I,  "  in  Kingdom-Come  ?  " — 

"  Wal,  I  worked  round  at  sperrit-rappin'  some, 

In  hopes  o'  larnin'  wut  wuz  goin'  on," 

Sez  he,  "  but  mejums  lie  so  like  all-split 

Thet  I  concluded  it  wuz  best  to  quit. 

But,  come  now,  ef  you  wun't  confess  to  knowin', 

You've  some  conjecturs  how  the  thing's  a-goin'." — 

"  Gran'ther,"  sez  I,  "  a  vane  warn't  never  known 

Nor  asked  to  hev  a  jedgment  of  its  own  j 

An'  yit,  ef 't  ain't  gut  rusty  in  the  jints, 

It's  safe  to  trust  its  say  on  certin  pints : 

It  knows  the  wind's  opinions  to  a  T, 


822  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS, 

An'  the  wind  settles  wut  the  weather  '11  be." — 

"  I  never  thought  a  scion  of  our  stock 

Could  grow  the  wood  to  make  a  weathercock; 

When  I  wuz  younger  'n  you,  skurce  more  'n  a  shaver, 

No  airthly  wind,"  sez  he,  "  could  make  me  waver  ! " 

(Ez  he  said  this,  he  clinched  his  jaw  an'  forehead, 

Hitchin'  his  belt  to  bring  his  sword-hilt  forrard.) — 

"  Jes'  so  it  wuz  with  me,"  sez  I,  "  I  swow, 

When  /wuz  younger  'n  wut  you  see  me  now, — 

Nothin',  from  Adam's  fall  to  Huldy's  bonnet, 

Thet  I  warn't  full-cocked  with  my  jedgment  on  it ; 

But  now  I'm  gittin'  on  in  life,  I  find 

It's  a  sight  harder  to  make  up  my  mind, — 

Nor  I  don't  often  try  tu,  when  events 

Will  du  it  for  me  free  of  all  expense. 

The  moral  question's  ollus  plain  enough, — 

It's  jes'  the  human-natur'  side  thet's  tough ; 

Wut's  best  to  think  mayn't  puzzle  me  nor  you, — 

The  pinch  comes  in  decidin'  wut  to  du; 

Ef  you  read  History,  all  runs  smooth  ez  grease, 

Coz  there  the  men  ain't  nothin'  more  'n  idees, — 

But  come  to  make  it,  ez  we  must  to-day, 

Th'  idees  hev  arms  an'  legs  an'  stop  the  way : 

It's  easy  fixin'  things  in  facts  an'  figgers, — 

They  can't  resist,  nor  warn't  brought  up  with  niggers  j 

But  come  to  try  your  the'ry  on, — why,  then 

Your  facts  an'  figgers  change  to  ign'ant  men 

Actin'  ez  ugly  " "  Smite  'em  hip  an'  high  I " 

Sez  gran'ther,  "and  let  every  man-child  die! 
Oh  for  three  weeks  o'  Crommle  an'  the  Lord  1 
O  Israel,  to  your  tents  an'  grind  the  sword ! "  — 
"  Thet  kind  o'  thing  worked  wal  in  ole  Judee, 
But  you  forgit  how  long  it's  ben  A.D. ; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS,  223 

You  think  thet's  ellerkence, — I  call  it  shoddy, 

A  thing,"  sez  I,  "wun't  cover  soul  nor  body; 

I  like  the  plain  all-wool  o'  common  sense, 

Thet  warms  ye  now,  an'  will  a  twelvemonth  hence. 

You  took  to  follerin'  where  the  Prophets  beckoned, 

An',    fust     you     knowed     on,    back    come    Charles    the 

Second ; 
Now  wut  I  want 's  to  hev  all  we  gain  stick. 
An'  not  to  start  Millennium  too  quick ; 
We  hain't  to  punish  only,  but  to  keep. 
An'  the  cure's  gut  to  go  a  cent'ry  deep." — 
"VVal,  milk-an'- water  ain't  a  good  cement," 
Sez  he,  **  an'  so  you'll  find  it  in  th'  event ; 
Ef  reshness  venters  sunthin',  shilly-shally 
Loses  ez  often  wut's  ten  times  the  vally. 
Thet  exe  of  ourn,  when  Charles's  neck  gut  split, 
Opened  a  gap  thet  ain't  bridged  over  yit : 
Slav'ry's  your  Charles,  the  Lord  hez  gin  the  exe," 
"  Our  Charles,"  sez  I,  "  hez  gut  eight  million  necks. 
The  hardest  question  ain't  the  black  man's  right, — 
The  trouble  is  to  'mancipate  the  white ; 
One's  chained  in  body  an'  can  be  sot  free, — 
The  other's  chained  in  soul  to  an  idee : 
It's  a  long  job,  but  we  shall  worry  thru  it ; 
Ef  bag'nets  fail,  the  spellin'-book  must  do  it." — 
"  Hosee,"  sez  he,  "  I  think  you're  goin'  to  fail : 
The  rettlesnake  ain't  dangerous  in  the  tail ; 
This  'ere  rebellion's  nothin'  but  the  rettle, — 
You'll  stomp  on  thet  an'  think  you've  won  the  bettle ; 
It's  Slavery  thet's  the  fangs  and  thinkin'  head, 
An'  ef  you  want  selvation,  cresh  it  dead, — 
An'  cresh  it  suddin,  or  you'll  larn  by  waitin' 
Thet  Chance  wun't  stop  to  listen  to  debatin' ! " — 


224  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

"  God's  truth ! "  sez  I,—"  an'  ef  /  held  the  club, 

An'  knowed  jes'  where  to  strike, — but  there's  the  rub !" — 

"Strike  soon,"  sez  he,  "or  you'll  be  deadly  ailin', — 

Folks  thet's  afeared  to  fail  are  sure  o'  failin' ; 

God  hates  your  sneakin'  creturs  thet  believe 

He'll  settle  things  they  run  away  an'  leave ! " 

He  brought  his  foot  down  fercely,  ez  he  spoke, 

An'  give  me  sech  a  startle  thet  I  woke. 


LATEST  VIEWS  OF  MR.  BIGLOW. 

PRELIMINARY    NOTE. 

It  is  with  feelings  of  the  liveliest  pain  that  we  inform  our  read«rs  of 
the  death  of  the  Reverend  Homer  Wilbur,  A.M.,  which  took  place  sud- 
denly, by  an  apoplectic  stroke,  on  the  afternoon  of  Christmas  Day, 
1862.  Our  venerable  friend  (for  so  we  may  venture  to  call  him, 
though  we  never  enjoyed  the  high  privilege  of  his  personal  acquaint- 
ance) was  in  his  eighty-fourth  year,  having  been  born  June  12,  1779,  at 
Pigsgusset  Precinct  (now  West  Jerusha)  in  the  then  District  of  Maine. 
Graduated  with  distinction  at  Hubville  College  in  1805,  he  pursued  his 
theological  studies  with  the  late  Reverend  Preserved  Thacker,  D.D., 
and  was  called  to  the  charge  of  the  First  Society  in  Jaalam  in  1809, 
where  he  remained  till  his  death. 

"  As  an  antiquary  he  has  probably  left  no  superior,  if,  indeed,  an 
equal,"  writes  his  friend  and  colleague,  the  Reverend  Jeduthun 
Hitchcock,  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  the  above  facts  ;  "  in  proof  of 
which  I  need  only  allude  to  his  History  of  Jaalam,  Genealogical,  Topo- 
graphical, and  Ecclesiastical,  1849,  which  has  won  him  an  eminent  and 
enduring  place  in  our  more  solid  and  useful  literature.  It  is  only  to  be 
r^atted  that  his  intense  application  to  historical  studies  should  have  so 
entirely  withdrawn  him  firom  the  pursuit  of  poetical  composition,  for 
which  he  was  endowed  by  Nature  with  a  remarkable  aptitude.  His 
well-known  hymn,  beginning  '  With  clouds  of  care  encompassed  round,' 
has  been  attributed  in  some  collections  to  the  late  President  Dwight, 
and  it  is  hardly  presumptuous  to  affirm  that  the  simile  of  the  rainbow  in 
the  eighth  stanza  would  do  no  discredit  to  that  polished  pen." 


I 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  225 

We  regret  that  we  have  not  room  at  present  for  the  whole  of  Mr. 
Hitchcock's  exceedingly  valuable  communication.  We  hope  to  lay  more 
liberal  extracts  from  it  before  our  readers  at  an  early  day.  A  summary 
of  its  contents  will  give  some  notion  of  its  importance  and  interest. 
It  contains  :  1st,  A  biographical  sketch  of  Mr.  Wilbur,  with  notices  of 
his  predecessors  in  the  pastoral  office,  and  of  eminent  clerical  con- 
temporaries ;  2nd,  An  obituary  of  deceased,  from  the  Punkin-Falls 
Weekly  Parallel ;  3rd,  A  list  of  his  printed  and  manuscript  productions 
and  of  projected  works  ;  4th,  Personal  anecdotes  and  recollections,  with 
specimens  of  table-talk  ;  5th,  A  tribute  to  his  relict,  Mrs.  Dorcas 
(Pilcox)  Wilbur;  6th,  A  list  of  graduates  fitted  for  different  colleges  by 
Mr.  Wilbur,  with  biographical  memoranda  touching  the  more  distin- 
guished ;  7th,  Concerning  learned,  charitable,  and  other  societies,  of 
which  Mr.  Wilbur  was  a  member,  and  of  those  with  which,  had  his  life 
been  prolonged,  he  would  doubtless  have  been  associated,  with  a  com- 
plete catalogue  of  such  Americans  as  have  been  Fellows  of  the  Royal 
Society;  8th,  A  brief  summary  of  Mr.  Wilbur's  latest  conclusions  con- 
cerning the  Tenth  Horn  of  the  Beast  in  its  special  application  to  recent 
events,  for  which  the  public,  as  Mr.  Hitchcock  assures  us,  have  been 
waiting  with  feelings  of  lively  anticipation  ;  9th,  Mr.  Hitchcock's  own 
views  on  the  same  topic ;  and  loth,  a  brief  essay  on  the  importance  of 
local  histories.  It  will  be  apparent  that  the  duty  of  preparing  Mr. 
Wilbur's  biography  could  not  have  fallen  into  more  sympathetic  hands. 

In  a  private  letter,  with  which  the  reverend  gentleman  has  since 
favoured  us,  he  expresses  the  opinion  that  Mr.  Wilbur's  life  was 
shortened  by  our  unhappy  civil  war.  It  disturbed  his  studies,  dislo- 
cated all  his  habitual  associations  and  trains  of  thought,  and  unsettled 
the  foundations  of  a  faith,  rather  the  result  of  habit  than  conviction,  in 
the  capacity  of  man  for  self-government.  "  Such  has  been  the  felicity 
of  my  life,"  he  said  to  Mr.  Hitchcock,  on  the  very  morning  of  the  day 
he  died,  "  that,  through  the  divine  mercy,  I  could  always  say,  Summum 
nee  vietuo  diem,  nee  opio.  It  has  been  my  habit,  as  you  know,  on  every 
recurrence  of  this  blessed  anniversary,  to  read  Milton's  •  Hymn  of  the 
Nativity,'  till  its  sublime  harmonies  so  dilated  my  soul  and  quickened  its 
spiritual  sense  that  I  seemed  to  hear  that  other  song  which  gave  assur- 
ance to  the  shepherds  that  there  was  One  who  would  lead  them  also  in 
green  pastures  and  beside  the  still  waters.  But  to-day  I  have  been 
unable  to  think  of  anything  but  that  mournful  text,  '  I  came  not  to  send 
peace,  but  a  sword,'  and,  did  it  not  smack  of  pagan  presumptuousness, 
could  almost  wish  I  had  never  lived  to  see  this  day." 

»5 


226  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Mr.  Hitchcock  also  informs  us  that  his  friend  "  lies  buried  in  the 
Jaalam  graveyard,  under  a  large  red-cedar  which  he  specially  admired. 
A  neat  and  substantial  monument  is  to  be  erected  over  his  remains, 
with  a  Latin  epitaph  written  by  himself;  for  he  was  accustomed  to  say 
pleasantly  that  there  was  at  least  one  occasion  in  a  scholar's  life  when 
he  might  show  the  advantages  of  a  classical  training." 

The  following  fragment  of  a  letter  addressed  to  us,  and  apparently 
intended  to  accompany  Mr.  Biglow's  contribution  to  the  present  num- 
ber, was  found  upon  his  table  after  his  decease. — Editors  "Atlantic 
Monthly." 

To  THE  Editors  of  the  "Atlantic  Monthly." 

Jaalam,  24th,  1862. 

Respected  Sirs, — The  infirm  state  of  my  bodily  health  would  be  a 
suflficient  apology  for  not  taking  up  the  pen  at  this  time,  wholesome  as  I 
deem  it  for  the  mind  to  apricate  in  the  shelter  of  epistolary  confidence, 
were  it  not  that  a  considerable,  I  might  even  say  a  large,  number  of 
individuals  in  this  parish  expect  from  their  pastor  some  public  expression 
of  sentiment  at  this  crisis.  Moreover,  Qui  tacitus  aniet  nta^ts  uritur. 
In  trying  times  like  these,  the  besetting  sin  of  undisciplined  minds  is  to 
seek  refuge  from  inexplicable  realities  in  the  dangerous  stimulant  of 
angry  partisanship,  or  the  indolent  narcotic  of  vague  and  hopeful  vatici- 
nation :  fortunamque  suo  temperat  arbitrio.  Both  by  reason  of  my  age 
and  my  natural  temperament,  I  am  unfitted  for  either.  Unable  to 
penetrate  the  inscrutable  judgments  of  God,  I  am  more  than  ever 
thankftil  that  my  life  has  been  prolonged  till  I  could  in  some  small 
measure  comprehend  His  mercy.  As  there  is  no  man  who  does  not  at 
some  time  render  himself  amenable  to  the  one, — quiim  vix  Justus  sit 
securus, — so  there  is  none  that  does  not  feel  himself  in  daily  need  of 
the  other. 

I  confess  I  cannot  feel,  as  some  do,  a  personal  consolation  for  the 
manifest  evils  of  this  war  in  any  remote  or  contingent  advantages  that 
may  spring  firom  it.  I  am  old  and  weak,  I  can  bear  little,  and  can 
scarce  hope  to  see  better  days  ;  nor  is  it  any  adequate  compensation  td 
know  that  Nature  is  old  and  strong  and  can  bear  much.  Old  men 
philosophise  over  the  past,  1  >ut  the  present  is  only  a  burthen  and  a 
weariness.  The  one  lies  before  them  like  a  placid  evening  landscape ; 
the  other  is  fiiU  of  the  vexatious  and  anxieties  of  housekeeping.  It  may 
be  true  enough  that   miscet  hac  tilts,  prohibetque    Clotho  forlunam 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  227 

stare,  but  he  who  said  it  was  fain  at  last  to  call  in  Atropos  with 
her  shears  before  her  time ;  and  I  cannot  help  selfishly  mourning  that 
the  fortune  of  our  Republic  could  not  at  least  stand  till  my  days  were 
numbered. 

TibuUus  would  find  the  origin  of  wars  in  the  great  exaggeration  of 
riches,  and  does  not  stick  to  say  that  in  the  days  of  the  beechen  trencher 
there  was  peace.  But  averse  as  I  am  by  nature  from  all  wars,  the  more 
as  they  have  been  especially  fatal  to  libraries,  I  would  have  this  one  go 
on  till  we  are  reduced  to  wooden  platters  again,  rather  than  surrender 
the  principle  to  defend  which  it  was  undertaken.  Though  I  believe 
Slavery  to  have  been  the  cause  of  it,  by  so  thoroughly  demoralising 
Northern  politics  for  its  own  purposes  as  to  give  opportunity  and  hope 
to  treason,  yet  I  would  not  have  our  thought  and  purpose  diverted  from 
their  true  object, — the  maintenance  of  the  idea  of  Government.  We  are 
not  merely  suppressing  an  enormous  riot,  but  contending  for  the  possi- 
bility of  permanent  order  co-existing  with  democratical  fickleness  ;  and 
while  I  would  not  superstitiously  venerate  form  to  the  sacrifice  of  sub- 
stance, neither  would  I  forget  that  an  adherence  to  precedent  and 
prescription  can  alone  give  that  continuity  and  coherence  under  a 
democratical  constitution  which  are  inherent  in  the  person  of  a  despotic 
monarch  and  the  selfishness  of  an  aristocratical  class.  Stet  pro  ratione 
voluntas  is  as  dangerous  in  a  majority  as  in  a  tyrant. 

I  cannot  allow  the  present  production  of  my  young  friend  to  go  out 
without  a  protest  from  me  against  a  certain  extremeness  in  his  views, 
more  pardonable  in  the  poet  than  the  philosopher.  While  I  agree  with 
him  that  the  only  cure  for  rebellion  is  suppression  by  force,  yet  I  must 
animadvert  upon  certain  phrases  where  I  seem  to  see  a  coincidence 
with  a  popular  fallacy  on  the  subject  of  compromise.  On  the  one  hand, 
there  are  those  who  do  not  see  that  the  vital  principle  of  Government 
and  the  seminal  principle  of  Law  cannot  properly  be  made  a  subject  of 
compromise  at  all ;  and  on  the  other,  those  who  are  equally  blind  to 
the  truth  that  without  a  compromise  of  individual  opinions,  interests, 
and  even  rights,  no  society  would  be  possible.  In  medio  tutisstmus. 
For  my  own  part,  I  would  gladly — 

Ef  I  a  song  or  two  could  make, 

Like  rockets  druv  by  their  own  burnin', 

All  leap  an'  light,  to  leave  a  wake 

Men's  hearts  an'  faces  skyward  turnin' ! — 


228  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

But,  it  strikes  me,  'tain't  jest  the  time 
Fer  stringin'  words  with  settisfaction : 

Wut's  wanted  now  's  the  silent  rhyme 
'Twixt  upright  Will  an'  downright  Action. 


Words,  ef  you  keep  'em,  pay  their  keep, 

But  gabble  's  the  short  cut  to  ruin ; 
It's  gratis  (gals  half-price),  but  cheap 

At  no  rate,  ef  it  benders  doin' ; 
Ther'  's  nothin'  wuss,  'less  'tis  to  set 

A  martyr-prem'um  upon  jawrin' : 
Teapots  git  dangerous,  ef  you  shet 

Their  lids  down  on  'em  with  Fort  Warren. 


'Bout  long  enough  it's  ben  discussed 

Who  sot  the  magazine  afire. 
An'  whether,  ef  Bob  Wickliffe  bust, 

'Twould  scare  us  more  or  blow  us  higher. 
D'ye  s'pose  the  Gret  Foreseer's  plan 

Wuz  settled  fer  him  in  town-meetin'  ? 
Or  thet  ther'  'd  ben  no  Fall  o'  Man, 

Ef  Adam  'd  on'y  bit  a  sweetin'? 

Oh,  Jon'than,  ef  you  want  to  be 

A  rugged  chap  agin  an'  hearty, 
Go  fer  wutever  '11  hurt  Jeff  D,, 

Nut  wut  '11  boost  up  ary  party. 
Here's  hell  broke  loose,  an'  we  lay  flat 

With  half  the  univarse  a-singein', 
Till  Sen'tor  This  an'  Gov'nor  Thet 

Stop  squabblin'  fer  the  garding-ingin'. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  229 

If s  war  we're  in,  not  politics ; 

It's  systems  wrastlin'  now,  not  parties  j 
An'  victory  in  the  eend  '11  fix 

Where  longest  will  an'  truest  heart  is. 
An'  wut's  the  Guv'ment  folks  about? 

Tryin'  to  hope  ther'  's  rfothin'  doin', 
An'  look  ez  though  they  didn't  doubt 

Sunthin'  pertickler  wuz  a-brewin'. 

Ther*  's  critters  yit  thet  talk  an'  act 

Fer  wut  they  call  Conciliation ; 
They  'd  hand  a  buff' lo-drove  a  tract 

When  they  wuz  madder  than  all  Bashan. 
Conciliate  ?  it  jest  means  be  kicked. 

No  metter  how  they  phrase  an'  tone  it ; 
It  means  thet  we're  to  set  down  licked, 

Thet  we're  poor  shotes  an'  glad  to  own  it  1 

A  war  on  tick 's  ez  dear  'z  the  deuce, 

But  it  wun't  leave  no  lastin'  traces, 
Ez  'twould  to  make  a  sneakin'  truce 

Without  no  moral  specie- basis : 
Ef  green-backs  ain't  nut  jest  the  cheese, 

I  guess  ther'  's  evils  thet's  extremer, — 
Fer  instance, — shinplaster  idees 

Like  them  put  out  by  Gov'nor  Seymour. 

Last  year,  the  Nation,  at  a  word, 

When  tremblin'  Freedom  cried  to  shield  her. 
Flamed  weldin'  into  one  keen  sword 

Waitin'  an'  longin'  fer  a  wielder : 


230  THE  B2GL0W  PAPERS. 

A  splendid  flash ! — an'  how  'd  the  grasp 
With  sech  a  chance  ez  thet  wuz  tally? 

Ther'  warn't  no  meanin'  in  our  clasp, — 
Half  this,  half  thet,  all  shilly-shally. 


More  men  ?     More  Man  !     It's  there  we  fail ; 

Weak  plans  grow  weaker  yit  by  lengthenin' : 
Wut  use  in  addin*  to  the  tail. 

When  it's  the  head  's  in  need  o'  strengthenin'  ? 
We  wanted  one  thet  felt  all  Chief 

From  roots  o*  hair  to  sole  o'  stockin'. 
Square-sot  with  thousan'-ton  belief 

In  him  an'  us,  ef  earth  went  rockin' ! 

Ole  Hick'ry  wouldn't  ha'  stood  see-saw 

'Bout  doin'  things  till  they  wuz  done  with, — 
He'd  smashed  the  tables  o'  the  Law 

In  time  o'  need  to  load  his  gun  with  ; 
He  couldn't  see  but  jest  one  side, — 

Ef  his,  'twuz  God's,  an'  thet  wuz  plenty ; 
An'  so  his  "Forrards/"  multiplied 

An  army's  fightin'  weight  by  twenty. 

But  this  'ere  histin',  creak,  creak,  creak, 

Your  cappen's  heart  up  with  a  derrick, 
This  tryin'  to  coax  a  lightnin'-streak 

Out  of  a  half-discouraged  hay-rick, 
This  hangin'  on  mont'  arter  mont'  •  - 1 

Fer  one  sharp  purpose  'mongst  the  twitter, — 
I  tell  ye,  it  doos  kind  o'  stunt 

The  peth  an'  sperit  of  a  critter. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  231 

In  six  months  where '11  the  People  be, 

Ef  leaders  look  on  revolution 
Ez  though  it  wuz  a  cup  o'  tea, — 

Jest  social  el'ments  in  solution  ? 
This  weighin'  things  doos  wal  enough 

When  war  cools  down,  an'  comes  to  writin  j 
But  while  it's  makin',  the  true  stuff 

Is  pison-mad,  pig-headed  fightin'. 

Democ'acy  gives  every  man 

A  right  to  be  his  own  oppressor ; 
But  a  loose  Gov'ment  ain't  the  plan,  ;j 

Helpless  ez  spilled  beans  on  a  dresser ; 
I  tell  ye  one  thing  we  might  lam 

From  them  smart  critters,  the  Seceders, — 
Ef  bein'  right 's  the  fust  consarn, 

The  'fore-the-fust  's  cast-iron  leaders. 


But  'pears  to  me  I  see  some  signs 

Thet  we're  a-goin'  to  use  our  senses : 
Jeff  druv  us  into  these  hard  lines, 

An'  ough'  to  bear  his  half  th'  expenses  j 
Slavery  's  Secession's  heart  an'  will, 

South,  North,  East,  West,  where'er  you  find  it. 
An'  ef  it  drors  in  the  War's  mill. 

D'ye  say  them  thunder-stones  shan't  grind  it  ? 


D'ye  s'pose,  ef  Jeff  give  him  a  lick,  ..y.;/;^ 

Ole  Hick'ry  'd  tried  his  head  to  sofn 

So  's  'twouldn't  hurt  thet  ebony  stick 
Thet's  made  our  side  see  stars  so  of 'n  ? 


232  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

"  No  !  "  he'd  ha'  thundered,  "  on  your  knees, 
An'  own  one  flag,  one  road  to  glory  ! 

Soft-heartedness,  in  times  like  these, 
Shows  sof'ness  in  the  upper  story  ! " 


An*  why  should  we  kick  up  a  muss 

About  the  Pres'dunt's  proclamation  ? 
It  ain't  a-goin'  to  lib'rate  us, 

Ef  we  don't  like  emancipation  : 
The  right  to  be  a  cussed  fool 

Is  safe  from  all  devices  human, 
It's  common  (ez  a  gin'l  rule) 

To  every  critter  born  o'  womaa 


So  we  're  all  right,  an'  I,  fer  one, 

Don't  think  our  cause  '11  lose  in  vally 
By  rammin'  Scriptur*  in  our  gun, 

An'  gittin'  Natur*  fer  an  ally : 
Thank  God,  say  I,  fer  even  a  plan 

To  lift  one  human  bein's  level. 
Give  one  more  chance  to  make  a  man, 

Or,  anyhow,  to  spile  a  devil  I 


Not  thet  I'm  one  thet  much  expec' 

Millennium  by  express  to  morrer; 
They  will  miscarry, — I  rec'lec' 

Tu  many  on  'em,  to  my  sorrer : 
Men  ain't  made  angels  in  a  day. 

No  matter  how  you  mould  an'  labor  'em,^ 
Nor  'riginal  ones,  I  guess,  don't  stay 

With  Abe  so  of'n  ez  with  Abraham. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  233 

The'ry  thinks  Fact  a  pooty  thing, 

An'  wants  the  banns  read  right  ensuin*; 
But  Fact  wun't  noways  wear  the  ring 

'Thout  years  o'  settin'  up  an'  wooin'  \ 
But,  arter  all.  Time's  dial-plate 

Marks  cent'ries  with  the  minute-finger, 
An'  Good  can't  never  come  tu  late, 

Though  it  doos  seem  to  try  an'  linger. 

An'  come  wut  will,  I  think  it's  grand 

Abe's  gut  his  will  et  last  bloom-furnaced 
In  trial-flames  till  it  '11  stand 

The  strain  o'  bein'  in  deadly  earnest: 
Thet's  wut  we  want, — we  want  to  know 

The  folks  on  our  side  hez  the  bravery 
To  b'lieve  ez  hard,  come  weal,  come  woe, 

In  Freedom  ez  Jeff  doos  in  Slavery. 

Set  the  two  forces  foot  to  foot. 

An'  every  man  knows  who'll  be  winner. 
Whose  faith  in  God  hez  ary  root 

Thet  goes  down  deeper  than  his  dinner: 
Then  'twill  be  felt  from  pole  to  pole. 

Without  no  need  o'  proclamation. 
Earth's  Biggest  Country 's  gut  her  soul 

An'  risen  up  Earth's  Greatest  Nation ! 


«34  THE  BIGLUW  PAPERS. 

KETELOPOTOMACHIA. 

PRELIMINARY   NOTE. 

In  the  month  of  February  1866  the  editors  of  the  Atlatitic  Monthly 
received  from  the  Rev.  Mr.  Hitchcock  of  Jaalam  a  letter  enclosing  the 
macaronic  verses  which  follow,  and  promising  to  send  more,  if  more 
should  be  communicated.  "  They  were  rapped  out  on  the  evening  of 
Thursday  last  past,"  he  says,  "  by  what  claimed  to  be  the  spirit  of  my 
late  predecessor  in  the  ministry  here,  the  Rev.  Dr.  Wilbur,  through  the 
medium  of  a  young  man  at  present  domiciled  in  my  family.  As  to  the 
possibility  of  such  spiritual  manifestations,  or  whether  they  be  properly 
so  entitled,  I  express  no  opinion,  as  there  is  a  division  of  sentiment  on 
that  subject  in  the  parish,  and  many  persons  of  the  highest  respecta- 
bility in  social  standing  entertain  opposing  views.  The  young  man 
who  was  improved  as  a  medium  submitted  himself  to  the  experiment 
with  manifest  reluctance,  and  is  still  unprepared  to  believe  in  the 
authenticity  of  the  manifestations.  During  his  residence  with  me  his 
deportment  has  always  been  exemplary ;  he  has  been  constant  in  his 
attendance  upon  our  family  devotions  and  the  public  ministrations  of 
the  Word,  and  has  more  than  once  privately  stated  to  me  that  the 
latter  had  often  brought  him  under  deep  concern  of  mind.  The  table 
is  an  ordinary  quadrupedal  one,  weighing  about  thirty  pounds,  three 
feet  seven  inches  and  a  half  in  height,  four  feet  square  on  the  top,  and 
of  beech  or  maple,  I  am  not  definitely  prepared  to  say  which.  It  had 
once  belonged  to  my  respected  predecessor,  and  had  been,  so  far  as  I 
can  learn  upon  careful  inquiry,  of  perfectly  regular  and  correct  habits 
up  to  the  evening  in  question.  On  that  occasion  the  young  man 
previously  alluded  to  had  been  sitting  with  his  hands  resting  carelessly 
upon  it,  while  I  read  over  to  him  at  his  request  certain  portions  of  my 
last  Sabbath's  discourse.  On  a  sudden  the  rappings,  as  they  are  called, 
commenced  to  render  themselves  audible,  at  first  faintly,  but  in 
process  of  time  more  distinctly  and  with  violent  agitation  of  the  table. 
The  young  man  expressed  himself  both  surprised  and  pained  by  the 
wholly  unexpected,  and,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned,  unprecedented 
occurrence.  At  the  earnest  solicitation,  however,  of  several  who 
happened  to  be  present,  he  consented  to  go  on  with  the  experiment, 
and  with  the  assistance  of  the  alphabet  commonly  employed  in  similar 
emergencies,   the  following  communication  was  obtained  and  written 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  235 

down  immediately  by  myself.  Whether  any,  and  if  so,  how  much 
weight  should  be  attached  to  it,  I  venture  no  decision.  That  Dr. 
Wilbur  had  sometimes  employed  his  leisure  in  Latin  versification  I  have 
ascertained  to  be  the  case,  though  all  that  has  been  discovered  of  that 
nature  among  his  papers  consists  of  some  fragmentary  passages  of  a 
version  into  hexameters  of  portions  of  the  Song  of  Solomon.  These  I 
had  communicated  about  a  week  or  ten  days  previous  [ly]  to  the  young 
gentleman  who  officiated  as  medium  in  the  communication  afterwards 
received.  I  have  thus,  I  believe,  stated  all  the  material  facts  that  have 
any  elucidative  bearing  upon  this  mysterious  occurrence." 

So  far  Mr.  Hitchcock,  who  seems  perfectly  master  of  Webster's 
unabridged  quarto,  and  whose  flowing  style  leads  him  into  certain 
further  expatiations  for  which  we  have  not  room.  We  have  since 
learned  that  the  young  man  he  speaks  of  was  a  sophomore,  put  under 

his  care  during  a  sentence  of  rustication  from  College,  where  he 

had  distinguished  himself  rather  by  physical  experiments  on  the  com- 
parative power  of  resistance  in  window-glass  to  various  solid  substances, 
than  in  the  more  regular  studies  of  the  place.  In  answer  to  a  letter  of 
inquiry,  the  professor  of  Latin  says,  "There  was  no  harm  in  the  boy 
that  I  know  of  beyond  his  loving  mischief  more  than  Latin,  nor  can  I 
think  of  any  spirits  likely  to  possess  him  except  those  commonly  called 
animal.  He  was  certainly  not  remarkable  for  his  Latinity,  but  I  see 
nothing  in  verses  you  enclose  that  would  lead  me  to  think  them  beyond 
his  capacity,  or  the  result  of  any  special  inspiration,  whether  of  beech 
or  maple.  Had  that  of  birch  been  tried  upon  him  earlier  and  more 
faithfully,  the  verses  would  perhaps  have  been  better  in  quality  and 
certainly  in  quantity."  This  exact  and  thorough  scholar  then  goes  on 
to  point  out  many  false  quantities  and  barbarisms.  It  is  but  fair  to  say, 
however,  that  the  author,  whoever  he  was,  seems  not  to  have  been 
unaware  of  some  of  them  himself,  as  is  shown  by  a  great  many  notes 
appended  to  the  verses  as  we  received  them,  and  purporting  to  be  by 
Scaliger,  Bentley,  and  others, — among  them  the  Esprit  de  Voltaire  I 
These  we  have  omitted  as  clearly  meant  to  be  humorous  and  altogether 
failing  therein. 

Though  entirely  satisfied  that  the  verses  are  altogether  unworthy  of 
Mr.  Wilbur,  who  seems  to  have  been  a  tolerable  Latin  scholar  after  the 
fashion  of  his  day,  yet  we  have  determined  to  print  them  here  partly  as 
belonging  to  the  res  gesta  of  this  collection,  and  partly  as  a  warning  to 
their  putative  author  which  may  keep  him  from  such  indecorous  pranks 
for  the  future. 


2s6  THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS, 

KETELOPOTOMACHIA. 

P.  Ovidii  Nasonis  carmen  heroicum  macaronicum  perplexametrum, 
inter  Getas  getico  more  compostum,  denuo  per  medium  ardentispirit- 
ualem,  adjuvante  mensa  diabolice  obsessa,  recuperatum,  curaque  Jo. 
Conradi  Schwarzii  umbrae,  aliis  necnon  plurimis  adjuvantibus, 
restitutum. 

LIBER   I. 

PuNCTORUM  garretos  colens  et  cellara  Quinque, 

Gutteribus  quae  et  gaudes  sundayam  abstingere  frontem, 

Plerumque  insidos  solita  fluitare  liquore 

Tanglepedem  quem  homines  appellant  Di  quoque  rotgut, 

Pimpliidis,  rubicundaque,  Musa,  O,  bourbon olenseque,      $ 

Fenianas  rixas  procul,  alma,  brogipotentis 

Patricii  cyathos  iterantis  et  horrida  bella, 

Backos  dum  virides  viridis  Brigitta  remittit, 

Linquens,  eximios  celebrem,  da,  Virginienses 

Rowdes,  praecipue  et  Te,  heros  alte,  Polarde  I  lo 

Insignes  juvenesque,  illo  certamine  lictos, 

Colemane,  Tylere,  nee  vos  oblivione  relinquam. 

Ampla  aquilae  invictse  fausto  est  sub  tegmine  terra, 

Backyfer,  ooiskeo  pollens,  ebenoque  bipede, 

Socors  prsesidum  et  altrix  (denique  quidruminantium),      15 

Duplefveorum  uberrima ;  illis  et  integre  cordi  est 

Deplere  assidue  et  sine  proprio  incommodo  fiscum ; 

Nunc  etiam  placidum  hoc  opus  invictique  secuti, 

Goosam  aureos  ni  eggos  voluissent  immo  necare 

Quae  peperit,  saltern  ac  de  illis  meliora  merentem.  20 

Condidit  hanc  Smithius  Dux,  Captinus  inclytus  ille 
Regis  Ulyssae  instar,  docti  arcum  intendere  longum  j 
Condidit  illi  Johnsmith,  Virginiamque  vocavit, 
Settledit  autem  Jacobus  rex,  nomine  primus. 


THE  BIGLO IV  PAPERS.  837 

Rascalis  implens  ruptis,  blagardisque  deboshtis,  25 

Militibusque  ex  FalstafiS  legione  fugatis 

Wenchisque  illi  quas  poterant  seducere  nuptas ; 

Virgineum,  ah,  littus  matronis  talibus  impar ! 

Progeniem  stirpe  ex  hoc  non  sine  stigmate  ducunt 

Multi  sese  qui  jactant  regum  esse  nepotes  :  30 

Haud  omnes,  Mater,  genitos  quae  nuper  habebas 

Bello  fortes,  consilio  cautos,  virtute  decoros, 

Jamque  et  habes,  sparso  si  patrio  in  sanguine  virtus, 

Mostrabisque  iterum,  antiquis  sub  astris  reducta  ! 

De  ilh's  qui  upkikitant,  dicebam,  rumpora  tanta,  35 

Letcheris  et  Floydis  magnisque  Extra  ordine  Billis : 

Est  his  prisca  fides  jurare  et  breakere  wordum ; 

Poppere  fellerum  a  tergo,  aut  stickere  clam  bowiknifo, 

Haud  sane  facinus,  dignum  sed  victrice  lauro ; 

Larrupere  et  nigerum,  factum  praestantius  ullo :  40 

Ast  chlamydem  piciplumatam,  Icariam,  flito  et  ineptam, 

Yanko  gratis  induere,  ilium  et  valido  railo 

Insuper  acri  equitare  docere  est  hospitio  utL 

Nescio  an  ille  Polardus  duplefveoribus  ortus, 
Sed  repute  potius  de  radice  poorwitemanorum ;  45 

Fortuiti  proles,  ni  fallor,  Tylerus  erat 
Praesidis,  omnibus  ab  Whiggis  nominatus  a  poor  cuss ; 
Et  nobilem  tertium  evincit  venerabile  nomen. 
Ast  animosi  omnes  bellique  ad  tympana  ha !  ha ! 
Vociferant  laeti,  procul  et  si  proelia,  sive  50 

vTostem  incautum  atsito  possunt  shootere  salvi ; 
Imperiique  capaces,  esset  si  stylus  agmen, 
Pro  dulci  spoliabant  et  sine  dangere  fito. 
Prae  ceterisque  Polardus  :  si  Secessia  licta^ 
Se  nunquam  licturum  jurat,  res  et  unheardof,  55 

Verbo  haesit,  similisque  audaci  roosteri  invicto, 
Dunghill!  solitus  rex  puUos  whoppere  moUes, 


238  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Grantum,  hirelingos  stripes  quique  et  splendida  toUunt 
Sidera,  et  Yankos,  territum  et  omnem  sarsuit  orbem. 

Usque  dabant  operam  isti  omnes,  noctesque  diesque,    60 
Samuelem  demulgere  avunculum,  id  vpro  siccum ; 
Uberibus  sed  ejus,  et  horum  est  culpa,  remotis, 
Parvam  domi  vaccam,  nee  mora  minima,  quaerunt, 
Lacticarentem  autem  et  droppam  vix  in  die  dantem ; 
Reddite  avunculi,  et  exclamabant,  reddite  pappam  !  65 

Polko  ut  consule,  gemens,  Billy  immurmurat  Extra; 
Echo  respondit,  thesauro  ex  vacuo,  pappam ! 
Frustra  explorant  pocketa,  ruber  nare  repertum ; 
Officia  expulsi  aspiciunt  rapla,  et  Paradisum 
Occlusum,  viridesque  baud  illis  nascere  backos;  70 

Stupent  tunc  oculis  madidis  spittantque  silenter. 
Adhibere  usu  ast  longo  vires  prorsus  inepti, 
Si  non  ut  qui  grindeat  axve  trabemve  revolvat, 
Virginiam  excruciant  totis  nunc  mightibu'  matrem ; 
Non  melius,  puta,  nono  panis  dimidiumne  est  ?  75 

Readere  ibi  non  posse  est  casus  commoner  uUo  j 
Tanto  intentius  imprimere  est  opus  ergo  statuta ; 
Nemo  propterea  pejor,  melior,  sine  doubto, 
Obtineat  qui  contractum,  si  et  postea  rhino  ; 
Ergo  Polardus,  si  quis,  inexsuperabilis  heros,  80 

Colemanus  impavidus  nondum,  atque  in  purpure  natus 
Tylerus  lohanides  celerisque  in  flito  Nathaniel, 
Quisque  optans  digitos  in  tantum  stickere  pium, 
Adstant  accincti  imprimere  aut  perrumpere  leges  : 
Quales  os  miserum  rabidi  tres  segre  molossi,  85 

Quales  aut  dubium  textum  atra  in  veste  ministri, 
Tales  circumstabant  nunc  nostri  inopes  hoc  job. 

Hisque  Polardus  voce  canoro  talia  fatus  : 
Primum  autem,  veluti  est  mos,  praeceps  quisque  liquorat, 
Quisque  et  Nicotianum  ingens  quid  inserit  atrum,  90 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  239 

Herodm  nitidum  decus  et  solamen  avitum, 

Masticat  ac  simul  altisonans,  spittatque  profuse  j 

Quis  de  Virginia  meruit  praestantius  unquam? 

Quis  se  pro  patria  curavit  impigre  tutum  ? 

Speechisque  articulisque  hominum  quis  fortior  uUus,         95 

Ingeminans  pennse  lickos  et  vulnera  vocis? 

Quisnam  putidius  (hie)  sarsuit  Yankinimicos, 

Saepius  aut  dedit  ultro  datam  et  broke  his  parolam  ? 

Mente  inquassatus  solidaque,  tyranno  minante, 

Horrisonis  (hie)  bombis  moenia  et  alta  quatente,  100 

Sese  promptum  (hie)  jactans  Yankos  lickere  centum, 

Atque  ad  lastum  invictus  non  surrendidit  unquam  ? 

Ergo  baud  meddlite,  posco,  mique  relinquite  (hie)  hoc  job, 

Si   non knifumque   enormem    mostrat    spittatque   tre- 

mendus. 

Dixerat ;  ast  alii  reliquorant  et  sine  pauso  105 

Pluggos  incumbunt  maxillis,  uterque  vicissim 
Certamine  innocuo  valde  madidam  inquinit  assem  : 
Tylerus  autem,  dumque  liquorat  aridus  hostis, 
Mirum  aspicit  duplumque  bibententem,  astante  Lyaeo; 
Ardens  impavidusque  edidit  tamen  impia  verba  ;  no 

Duplum  quamvis  te  aspicio,  esses  atque  virginti, 
Mendacem  dicerem  totumque  (hie)  thrasherem  acervum ; 
Nempe  et  thrasham,  doggonatus  (hie)  sim  nisi  faxem  ; 
Lamb  stabo  omnes  catawompositer-(hic)-que  chawam ! 
Dixit  et  impulsus  Ryeo  ruitur  bene  titus,  115 

IIH  nam  gravidum  caput  et  laterem  habet  in  hatto. 

Hunc  inhiat  titubansque  Polardus,  optat  et  ilium 
Stickere  inermem,  protegit  autem  rite  Lyaeus, 
£t  pronos  geminos,  oculis  dubitantibus,  heros 
Cerait  et  irritus  hostes,  dumque  excogitat  utrum  120 

Primum  inpitchere,  corruit,  inter  utrosque  recumbit, 
Magno  asino  similis  nimio  sub  pondere  quassus :  > 


240  THE  BIGLO IV  PAPERS. 

Colemanus  hos  moestus,  triste  ruminansque  solamen, 
Inspicit  hiccans,  circumspittat  terque  cubantes; 
Funereisque  his  ritibus  humidis  inde  solutis,  125 

Sternitur,  invalidusque  illis  superincidit  infans  : 
Hos  sepelit  somnus  et  snorunt  cornisonantes, 
Watchmanus  inscios  ast  calybooso  deinde  reponit. 

[The  Editors  of  the  Atlantic  have  received  so  many  letters  of  inquiry 
concerning  the  literary  remains  of  the  late  Mr.  Wilbur,  mentioned  by 
his  colleague  and  successor,  Rev.  Jeduthan  Hitchcock,  in  a  communica- 
tion from  which  we  made  some  extracts  in  our  number  for  February 
1863,  and  have  been  so  repeatedly  urged  to  print  some  part  of  them  for 
the  gratification  of  the  public,  that  they  felt  it  their  duty  at  least  to 
make  some  effort  to  satisfy  so  urgent  a  demand.  They  have  accord- 
ingly carefully  examined  the  papers  intrusted  to  them,  but  find  most  of 
the  productions  of  Mr.  Wilbur's  pen  so  fragmentary,  and  even  chaotic, 
written  as  they  are  on  the  backs  of  letters  in  an  exceedingly  cramped 
chirography, — here  a  memorandum  for  a  sermon  ;  there  an  observation 
of  the  weather ;  now  the  measurement  of  an  extraordinary  head  of 
cabbage,  and  then  of  the  cerebral  capacity  of  some  reverend  brother 
deceased  ;  a  calm  inquiry  into  the  state  of  modem  literature,  ending  in 
a  method  of  detecting  if  milk  be  impoverished  with  water,  and  the 
amount  thereof ;  one  leaf  beginning  with  a  genealogy,  to  be  interrupted 
half-way  down  with  an  entry  that  the  brindle  cow  had  calved, — that 
any  attempts  at  selection  seemed  desperate.  His  only  complete  work, 
An  Enquiry  concerning  the  Tenth  Horn  of  the  Beait,  even  in  the 
abstract  of  it  given  by  Mr.  Hitchcock,  would,  by  a  rough  computation 
of  the  printers,  fill  five  entire  numbers  of  our  journal,  and  as  he  attempts, 
by  a  new  application  of  decimal  fractions,  to  identify  it  with  the  Emperor 
Julian,  seems  hardly  of  immediate  concern  to  the  general  reader.  Evec 
the  Table-Talk,  though  doubtless  originally  highly  interesting  in  the 
domestic  circle,  is  so  largely  made  up  of  theological  discussion  and 
matters  of  local  or  preterite  interest,  that  we  have  found  it  hard  to 
extract  anything  that  would  at  all  satisfy  expectation.  But,  in  order  to 
silence  further  inquiry,  we  subjoin  a  few  passages  as  illustrations  of  its 
general  character.] 

I  think  I  could  go  near  to  be  a  perfect  Christian  if  I  were  always  a 
visitor,  as  I  have  sometimes  been,  at  the  house  of  some  hospitable 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  241 

friend.  I  can  show  a  great  deal  of  self-denial  where  the  best  of  every- 
thing is  urged  upon  me  with  kindly  importunity.  It  is  not  so  very  hard 
to  turn  the  other  cheek  for  a  kiss.  And  when  I  meditate  upon  the 
pains  taken  for  our  entertainment  in  this  life,  on  the  endless  variety  of 
seasons,  of  human  character  and  fortune,  on  the  costliness  of  the  hang- 
ings and  furniture  of  our  dwelling  here,  I  sometimes  feel  a  singular  joy 
in  looking  upon  myself  as  God's  guest,  and  cannot  but  believe  that  we 
should  all  be  wiser  and  happier,  because  more  grateful,  if  we  were 
always  mindful  of  our  privilege  in  this  regard.  And  should  we  not  rate 
more  cheaply  any  honour  that  men  could  pay  us,  if  we  remembered 
that  every  day  we  sat  at  the  table  of  the  Great  King  ?  Yet  must  we 
not  forget  that  we  are  in  strictest  bonds  His  servants  also  ;  for  there  is 
no  impiety  so  abject  as  that  which  expects  to  be  dead-headed  (ut  ita 
dicam)  through  life,  and  which,  calling  itself  trust  in  Providence,  is  in 
reality  asking  Providence  to  trust  us  and  taking  up  all  our  goods  on 
false  pretences.  It  is  a  wise  rule  to  take  the  world  as  we  find  it,  not 
always  to  leave  it  so. 

It  has  often  set  me  thinking  when  I  find  that  I  can  always  pick  up 
plenty  of  empty  nuts  under  my  shagbark-tree.  The  squirrels  know 
them  by  their  lightness,  and  I  have  seldom  seen  one  with  the  marks  of 
their  teeth  in  it.  What  a  school-house  is  the  world,  if  our  wits  would 
only  not  play  truant  1  For  I  observe  that  men  set  most  store  by  forms 
and  symbols  in  proportion  as  they  are  mere  shells.  It  is  the  outside 
they  want  and  not  the  kernel.  What  stores  of  such  do  not  many,  who 
in  material  things  are  as  shrewd  as  the  squirrels,  lay  up  for  the  spiritual 
winter-supply  of  themselves  and  their  children  !  I  have  seen  churches 
that  seemed  to  me  garners  of  these  withered  nuts,  for  it  is  wonderful 
how  prosaic  is  the  apprehension  of  symbols  by  the  minds  of  most  men. 
It  is  not  one  sect  nor  another,  but  all,  who,  like  the  dog  of  the  fable, 
have  let  drop  the  spiritual  substance  of  symbols  for  their  material 
shadow.  If  one  attribute  miraculous  virtues  to  mere  holy  water, 
that  beautiful  emblem  of  inward  purification  at  the  door  of  God's 
house,  another  cannot  comprehend  the  significance  of  baptism 
without  being  ducked  over  head  and  ears  in  the  liquid  vehicle 
thereof. 

Perhaps  a  word  of  historical  comment  may  be  permitted  here.  My 
late  revered  predecessor  was,  I  would  humbly  affirm,  as  free  from 
prejudice  as  falls  to  the  lot  of  the  most  highly  favoured  individuals  of 
our  species.  To  be  sure,  I  have  heard  him  say  that,  "what  were 
called  strong  prejudices  were  in  fact  only  the  repulsion  of  sensitive 


242  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

organisation  from  that  moral  and  even  physical  effluvium  through  which 
some  natures  by  providential  appointment,  like  certain  unsavoury 
quadrupeds,  gave  warning  of  their  neighbourhood.  Better  ten  mis- 
taken suspicions  of  this  kind  than  one  close  encounter."  This  he  said 
somewhat  in  heat,  on  being  questioned  as  to  his  motives  for  always 
refusing  his  pulpit  to  those  itinerant  professors  of  vicarious  benevolence 
who  end  their  discourses  by  taking  up  a  collection.  But  at  another 
time  I  remember  his  saying,  *'  that  there  was  one  large  thing  which 
small  minds  always  found  room  for,  and  that  was  great  prejudices." 
This,  however,  by  the  way.  The  statement  which  I  purposed  to  make 
was  simply  this.  Down  to  A.D.  1830,  Jaalam  had  consisted  of  a  single 
parish,  with  one  house  set  apart  for  religious  services.  In  that  year  the 
foundations  of  a  Baptist  Society  were  laid  by  the  labours  of  Elder 
Joash  Q.  Balcom,  2d,  As  the  members  of  the  new  body  were  drawn 
from  the  First  Parish,  Mr.  Wilbur  was  for  a  time  considerably  exercised 
in  mind.  He  even  went  so  far  as  on  one  occasion  to  follow  the  reprehen- 
sible practice  of  the  earlier  Puritan  divines  in  choosing  a  punning  text, 
and  preached  from  Hebrews  xiii.  9 :  "Be  not  carried  about  with  divers 
and  strange  doctrines."  He  afterwards,  in  accordance  with  one  of  his 
own  maxims, — "to  get  a  dead  injury  out  of  the  mind  as  soon  as  is 
decent,  bury  it,  and  then  ventilate," — in  accordance  with  this  maxim,  I 
say,  he  lived  on  very  friendly  terms  with  Rev.  Shearjashub  Scrimgour, 
present  pastor  of  the  Baptist  Society  in  Jaalam.  Yet  I  think  it  was 
never  unpleasing  to  him  that  the  church  edifice  of  that  society  (though 
otherwise  a  creditable  specimen  of  architecture)  remained  without  a 
bell,  as  indeed  it  does  to  this  day.  So  much  seemed  necessary  to  do 
away  with  any  appearance  of  acerbity  toward  a  respectable  community 
of  professing  Christians,  which  might  be  suspected  in  the  conclusion  of 
the  above  paragraph. — ^J.  H.] 

In  lighter  moods  he  was  not  averse  from  an  innocent  play  upon 
words.  Looking  up  from  his  newspaper  one  morning  as  I  entered  his 
study  he  said,  "  When  I  read  a  debate  in  Congress,  I  feel  as  if  I  were 
sitting  at  the  feet  of  Zeno  in  the  shadow  of  the  Portico,"  On  my 
expressing  a  natural  surprise,  he  added,  smiling,  "Why,  at  such  times 
the  only  view  which  honourable  members  give  me  of  what  goes  on  in 
the  world  is  through  their  intercalumniations."  I  smiled  at  this  after 
a  moment's  reflection,  and  he  added  gravely,  "  The  most  punctilious 
refinement  of  manners  is  the  only  salt  that  will  keep  a  democracy  from 
stinking ;  and  what  are  we  to  expect  from  'he  people,  if  their  repre- 


THE  BIG  LOW  PAPERS.  843 

sentatives  set  them  such  lessons  ?  Mr.  Everett's  whole  life  has  been  a 
sermon  from  this  text.  There  was,  at  least,  this  advantage  in  duelling, 
that  it  set  a  certain  hmit  on  the  tongue."  In  this  connection  I  may  be 
permitted  to  recall  a  playful  remark  of  his  upon  another  occasion.  The 
painful  divisions  in  the  First  Parish,  a.d.  1844,  occasioned  by  the  wild 
notions  in  respect  to  the  rights  of  (what  Mr.  Wilbur,  so  far  as  con- 
cerned the  reasoning  faculty,  always  called)  the  unfairer  part  of  creation, 
put  forth  by  Miss  Parthenia  Almira  Fitz,  are  too  well  known  to  need 
more  than  a  passing  allusion.  It  was  during  these  heats,  long  since 
happily  allayed,  that  Mr.  Wilbur  remarked  that  "  The  Church  had 
more  trouble  in  dealing  with  one  j/i^resiarch  than  with  twenty 
^(?resiarchs,"  and  that  the  men's  conscta  recti,  or  certainty  of  being 
right,  was  nothing  to  the  women's. 

When  I  once  asked  his  opinion  of  a  poetical  composition  on  which  I 
had  expended  no  little  pains,  he  read  it  attentively,  and  then  remarked, 
"  Unless  one's  thought  pack  more  neatly  in  verse  than  in  prose,  it  is 
wiser  to  refrain.  Commonplace  gains  nothing  by  being  translated  into 
rhyme,  for  it  is  something  which  no  hocus-pocus  can  transubstantiate 
with  the  real  presence  of  living  thought.  You  entitle  your  piece,  '  My 
Mother's  Grave,'  and  expend  four  pages  of  useful  paper  in  detailing 
your  emotions  there.  But,  my  dear  sir,  watering  does  not  improve  the 
quality  of  ink,  even  though  you  should  do  it  with  tears.  To  publish 
a  sorrow  to  Tom,  Dick,  and  Harry  is  in  some  sort  to  advertise  its 
unreality,  for  I  have  observed  in  my  intercourse  with  the  afflicted  that 
the  deepest  grief  instinctively  hides  its  face  with  its  hands  and  is  silent. 
If  your  piece  were  printed,  I  have  no  doubt  it  would  be  popular,  for 
people  like  to  fancy  that  they  feel  much  better  than  the  trouble  of  feel- 
ing. I  would  put  all  poets  on  oath  whether  they  have  striven  to  say 
everything  they  possibly  could  think  of,  or  to  leave  out  all  they  could 
not  help  saying.  In  your  own  case,  my  worthy  young  friend,  what  you 
have  written  is  merely  a  deliberate  exercise,  the  gymnastic  of  sentiment. 
For  your  excellent  maternal  relative  is  still  alive,  and  is  to  take  tea  with 
me  this  evening,  D.  V.  Beware  of  simulated  feeling  ;  it  is  hypocrisy's 
first  cousin ;  it  is  especially  dangerous  to  a  preacher ;  for  he  who  says 
one  day,  *  Go  to,  let  me  seem  to  be  pathetic,'  may  be  nearer  than  he 
thinks  to  saying,  '  Go  to,  let  me  seem  to  be  virtuous,  or  earnest,  or 
under  sorrow  for  sin.'  Depend  upon  it,  Sappho  loved  her  verses  more 
sincerely  than  she  did  Phaon,  and  Petrarch  his  sonnets  better  than 
Laura,  who  was  indeed  but  his  poetical  stalking-horse.  After  you  shall 
have  once  heard  that  muffled  r.Title  of  the  clods  on  the  coffin-lid  of  an 


244  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

irreparable  loss,  you  will  grow  acquainted  with  a  pathos  that  will  make 
all  elegies  hateful.  When  I  was  of  your  age,  I  also  for  a  time  mistook  my 
desire  to  write  verses  for  an  authentic  call  of  my  nature  in  that  direction. 
But  one  day  as  I  was  going  forth  for  a  walk,  with  my  head  full  of  an 
'  Elegy  on  the  Death  of  Flirtilla,'  and  vainly  groping  after  a  rhyme  for 
lily  that  should  not  be  silly  or  chilly,  I  saw  my  eldest  boy  Homer  busy 
over  the  rain-water  hogshead,  in  that  childish  experiment  at  partheno- 
genesis, the  changing  a  horse-hair  into  a  water-snake.  An  immersion 
of  six  weeks  showed  no  change  in  the  obstinate  filament.  Here  was 
a  stroke  of  unintended  sarcasm.  Had  I  not  been  doing  in  my  study 
precisely  what  my  boy  was  doing  out  of  doors  ?  Had  my  thoughts  any 
more  chance  of  coming  to  life  by  being  submerged  in  rhyme  than  his 
hair  by  soaking  in  water  ?  I  burned  my  elegy  and  took  a  course  of 
Edwards  on  the  Will.  People  do  not  make  poetry ;  it  is  made  out  of 
them  by  a  process  for  which  I  do  not  find  myself  fitted.  Nevertheless, 
the  writing  of  verses  is  a  good  rhetorical  exercitation,  as  teaching  us 
what  to  shun  most  carefully  in  prose.  For  prose  bewitched  is  like 
window-glass  with  bubbles  in  it,  distorting  what  it  should  show  with 
pellucid  veracity." 

It  is  unwise  to  insist  on  doctrinal  points  as  vital  to  religion.  The 
Bread  of  Life  is  wholesome  and  sufficing  in  itself,  but  gulped  down 
with  these  kick-shaws  cooked  up  by  theologians,  it  is  apt  to  pro- 
duce an  indigestion,  nay,  even  at  last,  an  incurable  dyspepsia  of 
scepticism. 

One  of  the  most  inexcusable  weaknesses  of  Americans  is  in  signing 
their  names  to  what  are  called  credentials.  But  for  my  interposition, 
a  person  who  shall  be  nameless  would  have  taken  from  this  town  a 
recommendation  for  an  office  of  trust  subscribed  by  the  select  men  and 
all  the  voters  of  both  parties,  ascribing  to  him  as  many  good  qualities 
as  if  it  had  been  his  tombstone.  The  excuse  was  that  it  would  be  well 
for  the  town  to  be  rid  of  him,  as  it  would  ere  long  be  obliged  to  main- 
lain  him.  I  would  not  refuse  my  name  to  modest  merit,  but  I  would 
be  as  cautious  as  in  signing  a  bond.  [I  trust  I  shall  be  subjected  to  no 
imputation  of  unbecoming  vanity,  if  I  mention  the  fact  that  Mr.  W. 
indorsed  my  own  qualifications  as  teacher  of  the  high  school  at  Pequash 
Junction. — J.  H,]  When  I  see  a  certificate  of  character  with  every- 
body's name  to  it,  I  regard  it  as  a  letter  of  introduction  fiom  the  Devil. 
Never  give  a  man  your  name  unless  you  are  willing  to  trust  him  with 
your  reputation. 


THE  B I  GLOW  PAPERS.  245 

There  seem  nowadays  to  be  two  sources  of  literary  inspiration,— 
fulness  of  mind  and  emptiness  of  pocket. 

I  am  often  struck,  especially  in  reading  Montaigne,  with  the  obvious- 
ness and  familiarity  of  a  great  writer's  thoughts,  and  the  freshness  they 
gain  because  said  by  him.  The  truth  is,  we  mix  their  greatness  with 
all  they  say  and  give  it  our  best  attention.  Johannes  Faber  sic 
cogitavit  would  be  no  enticing  preface  to  a  book,  but  an  accredited 
name  gives  credit  like  the  signature  of  a  note  of  hand.  It  is  the 
advantage  of  fame  that  it  is  always  privileged  to  take  the  world  by  the 
button,  and  a  thing  is  weightier  for  Shakespeare's  uttering  it  by  the 
whole  amount  of  his  personality. 

It  is  singular  how  impatient  men  are  with  overpraise  of  others,  how 
patient  with  overpraise  of  themselves ;  and  yet  the  one  does  them  no 
injury,  while  the  other  may  be  their  ruin. 

People  are  apt  to  confound  mere  alertness  of  mind  with  attention. 
The  one  is  but  the  flying  abroad  of  all  the  faculties  to  the  open  doors 
and  windows  at  every  passing  rumour ;  the  other  is  the  concentration 
of  every  one  of  them  in  a  single  focus,  as  in  the  alchemist  over  his 
alembic  at  the  moment  of  expected  projection.  Attention  is  the  stuflf 
that  memory  is  made  of,  and  memory  is  accumulated  genius. 

Do  not  look  for  the  Millennium  as  imminent.  One  generation  is  apt 
to  get  all  the  wear  it  can  out  of  the  cast  clothes  of  the  last,  and  is 
always  sure  to  use  up  every  paling  of  the  old  fence  that  will  hold  a  nail 
in  building  the  new. 

You  suspect  a  kind  of  vanity  in  my  genealogical  enthusiasm.  Perhaps 
you  are  right ;  but  it  is  a  universal  foible.  Where  it  does  not  show 
itself  in  a  personal  and  private  way,  it  becomes  public  and  gregarious. 
We  flatter  ourselves  in  the  Pilgrim  Fathers,  and  the  Virginian  offshoot 
of  a  transported  convict  swells  with  the  fancy  of  a  cavalier  ancestry. 
Pride  of  birth,  I  have  noticed,  takes  two  forms.  One  complacently 
traces  himself  up  to  a  coronet ;  another,  defiantly,  to  a  lap-stone.  The 
sentiment  is  precisely  the  same  in  both  cases,  only  that  one  is  the 
positive  and  the  other  the  negative  pole  of  it. 

Seeing  a  goat  the  other  day  kneeling  in  order  to  graze  with  less 
trouble,  it  seemed  to  me  a  type  of  the  common  notion  of  prayer.     Most 


246  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

people  are  ready  enough  to  go  down  on  their  knees  for  material  bless- 
ings, but  how  few  for  those  spiritual  gifts  which  alone  are  an  answer  to 
our  orisons,  if  we  but  knew  it ! 

Some  people,  nowadays,  seem  to  have  hit  upon  a  new  moralisation 
of  the  moth  and  the  candle.  They  would  lock  up  the  light  of  Truth, 
lest  poor  Psyche  should  put  it  out  in  her  effort  to  draw  nigh  to  it. 


MR.  HOSEA  BIGLOW  TO  THE  EDITOR  OF  THE 
"ATLANTIC  MONTHLY." 

Dear  Sir, — Your  letter  come  to  han', 

Requestin'  me  to  please  be  funny; 
But  I  ain't  made  upon  a  plan 

Thet  knows  wut's  comin',  gall  or  honey: 
Ther"  's  times  the  world  does  look  so  queer, 

Odd  fancies  come  afore  I  call  'em; 
An'  then  again,  for  half  a  year, 

No  preacher  'thout  a  call 's  more  solemn. 

You're  'n  want  o'  sunthiu'  light  an'  cute, 

Rattlin'  an'  shrewd  an'  kin'  o'  jingleish, 
An'  wish,  pervidin'  it  'ould  suit, 

I'd  take  an'  citify  my  English. 
I  ken  write  long-tailed,  ef  I  please, — 

But  when  I'm  jokin',  no,  I  thankee; 
Then,  'fore  I  know  it,  my  idees 

Run  helter-skelter  into  Yankee. 

Sence  I  begun  to  scribble  rhyme, 
I  tell  ye  wut,  I  hain't  ben  foolin'; 

The  parson's  books,  life,  death,  an'  time 
Hev  took  some  trouble  with  my  schoolin'; 


•i 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  847 

Nor  th'  airth  don't  git  put  out  with  me, 
Tiiet  love  her  'z  though  she  wuz  a  woman; 

Why,  th'  ain't  a  bird  upon  the  tree 
But  half  forgives  my  bein'  human. 


An'  yit  I  love  th'  unhighschooled  way 

01'  farmers  hed  when  I  wuz  younger; 
Their  talk  wuz  meatier,  an'  'ould  stay, 

While  book-froth  seems  to  whet  your  hunger; 
For  puttin'  in  a  downright  lick 

'Twixt  Humbug's  eyes,  ther*  's  few  can  metch  it, 
An'  then  it  helves  my  thoughts  ez  slick 

Ez  stret-grained  hickory  docs  a  hetchet. 

But  when  I  can't,  I  can't,  thet's  all, 

For  Natur'  won't  put  up  with  guUin*; 
Idees  you  hev  to  shove  an'  haul 

Like  a  druv  pig  ain't  wuth  a  mullein  : 
Live  thoughts  ain't  sent  for ;  thru  all  rifts 

O'  sense  they  pour  an'  resh  ye  onwards, 
Like  rivers  when  south-lyin'  drifts 

Feel  thet  th'  old  airth  's  a-wheelin'  sunwards. 


Time  wuz,  the  rhymes  come  crowdin*  thick 

Ez  office-seekers  arter  'lection, 
An*  into  ary  place  'ould  stick 

Without  no  bother  nor  objection  ; 
But  sence  the  war  my  thoughts  hang  back 

Ez  though  I  wanted  to  enlist  'em. 
An'  subs' tutes, — ihey  don't  never  lack, 

But  them  they'll  slope  afore  you've  mist  'em. 


248  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Nothin'  don't  seem  like  wut  it  wuz ; 

I  can't  see  wut  there  is  to  hender, 
An'  yit  my  brains  jes'  go  buzz,  buzz, 

Like  bumblebees  agin  a  winder ; 
'Fore  these  times  come,  in  all  airth's  row, 

Ther'  wuz  one  quiet  place,  my  head  in, 
Where  I  could  hide  an'  think, — but  now 

It's  all  one  teeter,  hopin',  dreadin'. 


Where's  Peace?    I  start,  some  clear-blown  night, 

When  gaunt  stone  walls  grow  numb  an'  number, 
An',  creakin'  'cross  the  snow-crus'  white, 

Walk  the  col*  starlight  into  summer  ; 
Up  grows  the  moon,  an'  swell  by  swell 

Thru  the  pale  pasturs  silvers  dimmer 
Than  the  last  smile  thet  strives  to  tell 

O*  love  gone  heavenward  in  its  shimmer. 

I  hev  ben  gladder  o'  sech  things 

Than  cocks  o'  spring  or  bees  o'  clover, 
They  filled  my  heart  with  livin'  springs. 

But  now  they  seem  to  freeze  'em  over  j 
Sights  innercent  ez  babes  on  knee, 

Peaceful  ez  eyes  o'  pastur'd  cattle, 
Jes'  coz  they  be  so,  seem  to  me 

To  rile  me  more  with  thought  o'  battle. 

In-doors  an'  out  by  spells  I  try ; 

Ma'am  Natur'  keeps  her  spin-wheel  goin', 
But  leaves  my  natur'  stiff  and  dry 

Ez  fiel's  o'  clover  arter  mowin' ; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  349 

An'  her  jes'  keepin'  on  the  same, 

Calmer  'n  a  clock,  an'  never  carin', 
An'  findin'  nary  thing  to  blame, 

Is  wus  than  ef  she  took  to  swearin'. 


Snow-flakes  come  whisperin'  on  the  pane 

The  charm  makes  blazin'  logs  so  pleasant, 
But  I  can't  hark  to  wut  they're  say'n', 

With  Grant  or  Sherman  oilers  present ; 
The  chimbleys  shudder  in  the  gale, 

Thet  lulls,  then  suddin  takes  to  flappin* 
Like  a  shot  hawk,  but  all's  ez  stale 

To  me  ez  so  much  sperit-rappin'. 

Under  the  yaller-pines  I  house. 

When  sunshine  makes  'em  all  sweet-scented, 
An'  hear  among  their  furry  boughs 

The  baskin'  west-wind  purr  contented, 
While  'way  o'erhead,  ez  sweet  an'  low 

Ez  distant  bells  thet  ring  for  meetin , 
The  wedged  wil'  geese  their  bugles  blow, 

Further  an'  further  South  retreatin'. 


Or  up  the  slippery  knob  I  strain 

An'  see  a  hundred  hills  like  islan's 
Lift  their  blue  woods  in  broken  chain 

Out  o'  the  sea  o'  snowy  silence ; 
The  farm-smokes,  sweetes'  sight  on  airth, 

Slow  thru  the  winter  air  a-shrinkin' 
Seem  kin'  o'  sad,  an'  roun'  the  hearth 

Of  empty  places  set  me  thinkin'. 


250  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Beaver  roars  hoarse  with  meltin'  snows, 

An'  rattles  di'mon's  from  his  granite  j 
Time  wuz,  he  snatched  away  my  prose, 

An'  into  psalms  or  satires  ran  it ; 
But  he,  nor  all  the  rest  thet  once 

Started  my  blood  to  country-dances, 
Can't  set  me  goin'  more  'n  a  dunce 

Thet  hain't  no  use  for  dreams  an'  fancies. 


Rat-tat-tat-tattle  thru  the  street 

I  hear  the  drummers  makin'  riot, 
An'  I  set  thinkin'  o'  the  feet 

Thet  foUered  once  an'  now  are  quiet, — 
White  feet  ez  snowdrops  innercent, 

Thet  never  knowed  the  paths  o'  Satan, 
Whose  comin'  step  ther'  's  ears  thet  won't, 

No,  not  lifelong,  leave  off  awaitin'. 

Why,  hain't  I  held  'em  on  my  knee  ? 

Didn't  I  love  to  see  'em  growin'. 
Three  likely  lads  ez  wal  could  be, 

Hahnsome  an'  brave  an'  not  tu  knowin'  ? 
I  set  an'  look  into  the  blaze 

Whose  natur',  jes'  like  theirn,  keeps  climbin' 
Ez  long  'z  it  lives,  in  shinin'  ways, 

An'  half  despise  myself  for  rhymin*. 

Wut's  words  to  them  whose  faith  an'  truth 
On  War's  red  techstone  rang  true  metal. 

Who  ventered  life  an'  love  an'  youth 
For  the  gret  prize  o'  death  in  battle? 


k 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  351 

To  him  who,  deadly  hurt,  agen 

Flashed  on  afore  the  charge's  thunder, 

Tippin'  with  fire  the  bolt  of  men 
Thet  rived  the  Rebel  line  asunder  ? 


'Tain't  right  to  hev  the  young  go  fust, 

All  throbbin'  full  o'  gifts  an'  graces, 
Leavin'  life's  paupers  dry  ez  dust 

To  try  an'  make  b'lieve  fill  their  places : 
Nothin'  but  tells  us  wut  we  miss, 

Ther'  's  gaps  our  lives  can't  never  fay  in, 
An'  thet  world  seems  so  fur  from  this 

Lef  for  us  loafers  to  grow  grey  in ! 

My  eyes  cloud  up  for  rain ;  my  mouth 

Will  take  to  twitchin'  roun'  the  corners ; 
I  pity  mothers,  tu,  down  South, 

For  all  they  sot  among  the  scorners ; 
I'd  sooner  take  my  chance  to  stan' 

At  Jedgment  where  your  meanest  slave  is. 
Than  at  God's  bar  hoi'  up  a  han' 

Ez  drippin'  red  ez  yourn,  Jeff  Davis ! 

Come,  Peace  I  not  like  a  mourner  bowed   , 

For  honour  lost  an'  dear  ones  wasted, 
But  proud,  to  meet  a  people  proud, 

With  eyes  thet  tell  o'  triumph  tasted  I 
Come,  with  han'  grippin'  on  the  hilt. 

An'  step  thet  proves  ye  Victory's  daughter  I 
Longin'  for  you,  our  sperits  wilt 

Like  shipwrecked  men's  on  raf  s  for  water. 


as  a  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Come,  while  our  country  feels  the  lift 

Of  a  gret  instinct  shoutin'  forwards, 
An'  knows  thet  freedom  ain't  a  gift 

Thet  tarries  long  in  han's  o'  cowards  I 
Come,  sech  ez  mothers  prayed  for,  when 

They  kissed  their  cross  with  lips  thet  quivered. 
An'  bring  fair  wages  for  brave  men, 

A  nation  saved,  a  race  delivered ! 


MR.  HOSEA  BIGLOWS  SPEECH  IN  MARCH 
MEETING. 

To  THE  Editor  of  the  "Atlantic  Monthly." 

Jaalam,  April  5,  1866. 
Mv  DEAR  Sir, — 

(an'  noticin'  by  your  kiver  thet  you're  some  dearer  than  wut  you  wuz, 
I  enclose  the  deffrence)  I  dunno  ez  I  know  jest  how  to  interdroce  this 
las'  perduction  of  my  mews,  ez  Parson  Willber  alius  called  'em,  which 
is  goin'  to  be  the  last  an'  stay  the  last  onless  sunthin'  pertikler  sh'd  inter- 
fear  which  I  don't  expec'  ner  I  wun't  yield  tu  ef  it  wuz  ez  pressin'  ez  a 
deppity  ShirifiF.  Sence  Mr.  Wilbur's  disease  I  hevn't  hed  no  one  thet 
could  dror  out  my  talons.  He  ust  to  kind  o'  wine  me  up  an'  set  the 
penderlum  agoin'  an'  then  somehow  I  seemed  to  go  on  tick  as  it  wear 
tell  I  run  down,  but  the  noo  minister  ain't  of  the  same  brewin'  nor  I 
can't  seem  to  git  ahold  of  no  kine  of  burning  nater  in  him  but  sort  of 
slide  rite  off  as  you  du  on  the  eedge  of  a  mow.  Minnysteeril  natur  is 
wal  enough  an'  a  site  better  'n  most  other  kines  I  know  on,  but  the 
other  sort  sech  as  Welbor  hed  wuz  of  the  Lord's  makin'  an'  naterally 
more  wonderfle  an'  sweet  tastin'  leastways  to  me  so  fur  as  heerd  from. 
He  used  to  interdooce  'em  smooth  ez  ile  athout  sayin'  nothin'  in  per- 
tickler  an'  I  misdoubt  he  didn't  set  so  much  by  the  sec'nd  Ceres  as 
wut  he  done  by  the  Fust,  fact,  he  let  on  onct  thet  his  mine  misgive  him 
of  a  sort  of  falHn'  off  in  spots.  He  wuz  as  outspoken  as  a  norwester  he 
wuz,  but  I  tole  him  I  hoped  the  fall  wuz  from  so  high  up  thet  a  feller 
could  ketch  a  good  many  times  fust  afore  comin'  bunt  onto  the  ground 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  253 

as  I  see  Jethro  C.  Swett  from  the  meetin'  house  steeple  up  to  th'  old 
perrish,  an'  took  up  for  dead  but  he's  alive  now  an'  spry  as  wut  you 
be.  Turnin'  of  it  over  I  recclected  how  they  ust  to  put  wut  they  called 
Argymunce  onto  the  frunts  of  po3mins,  like  poorches  afore  housen  whare 
you  could  rest  ye  a  spell  whilst  you  wuz  concludin'  whether  you'd  go  in 
or  nut  espeshuUy  ware  tha  wuz  darters,  though  I  most  alius  found  it  the 
best  plan  to  go  in  fust  an'  think  afterwards  an'  the  gals  likes  it  best  tu. 
I  dno  as  speechis  ever  hez  any  argimunts  to  'em,  I  never  see  none  thet 
hed  an'  I  guess  they  never  du  but  tha  must  alius  be  a  B'ginnin'  to  every 
thin'  athout  it  is  Etarnity  so  I'll  begin  rite  away  an'  anybody  may  put 
it  afore  any  of  his  speeches  ef  it  soots  an'  welcome.  I  don't  claim  no 
paytent. 

THE   ARGYMUNT. 

Interducshin,  wich  may  be  skipt.  Begins  by  talkin'  about  himself : 
thet's  jest  natur  an'  most  gin'ally  alius  pleasin',  I  b'leeve  I've  notist, 
to  one  of  the  cumpany,  an'  thet's  more  than  wut  you  can  say  of  most 
speshes  of  talkin'.  Nex'  comes  the  gittin'  the  goodwill  of  the  orjunce 
by  lettin'  'em  gether  from  wut  you  kind  of  ex'dentally  let  drop  thet  they 
air  about  East,  A  one,  an'  no  mistaik,  skare  'em  up  an'  take  'em  as  they 
rise.  Spring  interdooced  with  a  fiew  approput  flours.  Speach  finally 
begins  witch  nobuddy  needn't  feel  obolygated  to  read  as  I  never 
read  'em  an'  never  shell  this  one  ag'in.  Subjick  staited  ;  expanded  ; 
delay  ted ;  extended.  Pump  lively.  Subjick  staited  ag'in  so's  to  avide 
all  mistaiks.  Ginnle  remarks ;  continooed ;  kerried  on ;  pushed  furder ; 
kind  o'  gin  out.  Subjick  r^taited ;  dielooted ;  stirred  up  permiscoous. 
Pump  ag'in.  Gits  back  to  where  he  sot  out.  Can't  seem  to  stay  thair. 
Ketches  into  Mr.  Seaward's  hair.  Breaks  loose  ag'in  an'  staits  his 
subjick;  stretches  it;  turns  it;  folds  it;  onfolds  it;  folds  it  ag'in  so's  't 
no  one  can't  find  it.  Argoos  with  an  imedginary  bean  thet  ain't  aloud 
to  say  nothin'  in  repleye.  Gives  him  a  real  good  dressin'  an'  is  settysfide 
he's  rite.  Gits  into  Johnson's  hair.  No  use  tryin'  to  git  into  his  head. 
Gives  it  up.  Hez  to  stait  his  subjick  ag'in ;  doos  it  back'ards,  side- 
ways, eendways,  criss-cross,  bevellin',  noways.  Gits  finally  red  on  it. 
Concloods.  Concloods  more.  Reads  some  xtrax.  Sees  his  subjick 
a-nosin'  round  arter  him  ag'in.  Tries  to  avide  it.  Wun't  du.  Mis- 
states  it.  Can't  conjectur'  no  other  plawsable  way  of  stay  tin'  on 
it.  Tries  pump.  No  fx.  Finely  concloods  to  conclood.  Yeels  the 
flore. 

You  kin  spall  an'  punctooate  thet  as  you  please.     I  alius  do,  it  kind 


254  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

of  puts  a  noo  soot  of  close  onto  a  word,  thisere  funattick  spellin'  doos 
an'  takes  'em  out  of  the  prissen  dress  they  wair  in  the  Dixonary.  Ef  I 
squeeze  the  cents  out  of  'em  it's  the  main  thing,  an'  wut  they  wuz  made 
for  ;  wut's  left  's  jest  pummis. 

Mistur  Wilbur  sez  he  to  me  onct,  sez  he,  "  Hosee,"  sez  he,  "  in 
litterytoor  the  only  good  thing  is  Natur.  It's  amazin'  hard  to  come 
at,"  sez  he,  "  but  onct  git  it  an'  you've  gut  everythin',  Wut's  the 
sweetest  small  on  airth  ?"  sez  he.  "  Noomone  hay,"  sez  I,  pooty  bresk, 
for  he  wuz  alius  hankerin'  round  in  hayin'.  "  Nawthin'  of  the  kine," 
sez  he.  "  My  leetle  Huldy's  breath,"  sez  I  ag'in.  "  You're  a  good 
lad,"  sez  he,  his  eyes  sort  of  ripplin'  like,  for  he  lost  a  babe  onct  nigh 
about  her  age, — "You're  a  good  lad  ;  but  'tain't  thet  nuther,"  sez  he. 
"  Ef  you  want  to  know,"  sez  he,  "  open  your  wmder  of  a  mornin'  et 
ary  season,  and  you'll  lam  thet  the  best  of  perfooms  is  jest  fresh  air, 
fresh  air,"  sez  he,  emphysizin',  "  athout  no  mixtur.  Thet's  wut  / 
call  natur  in  writin',  and  it  bathes  my  lungs  and  washes  'em  sweet 
whenever  I  git  a  whiff  on  't,"  sez  he.  I  offen  think  o'  thet  when  I  set 
down  to  write,  but  the  winders  air  so  ept  to  git  stuck,  an'  breakin'  a 
pane  costs  sunthin'. 

Youm  for  the  last  time, 

Nut  to  be  continooed, 

HOSEA  BlGLOV\ 

I  don't  much  s'pose,  hows'ever  I  should  plen  it, 

I  could  git  boosted  into  th'  House  or  Sennit, — 

Nut  while  the  two-legged  gab-machine's  so  plenty, 

'Nablin*  one  man  to  du  the  talk  o'  twenty ; 

I'm  one  o'  them  thet  finds  it  ruther  hard 

To  mannyfactur'  wisdom  by  the  yard, 

An'  maysure  off,  accordin'  to  demand. 

The  piece-goods  el'kence  that  I  keep  on  hand. 

The  same  ole  pattern  runnin'  thru  an'  thru, 

An'  nothin'  but  the  customer  thet's  new. 

I  sometimes  think,  the  furder  on  I  go, 

Thet  it  gits  harder  to  feel  sure  I  know. 

An'  when  I've  settled  my  idees,  I  find 

'Twarn't  I  sheered  most  in  makin'  up  my  mind  j 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  255 

'Twuz  this  an'  thet  an'  t'other  thing  thet  done  it, 
Sunthin'  in  th'  air,  I  could  n'  seek  nor  shun  it. 
Mos'  folks  go  off  so  quick  now  in  discussion, 
All  th'  ole  flint  locks  seems  altered  to  percussion, 
Whilst  I  in  agin'  sometimes  git  a  hint 
Thet  I'm  percussion  changin'  back  to  iiint; 
Wal,  ef  it's  so,  I  ain't  agoin'  to  werrit, 
For  th'  ole  Queen's-arm  hez  this  pertickler  merit, — 
It  gives  the  mind  a  hahnsome  wedth  o'  margin 
To  kin'  o'  make  its  will  afore  dischargin' ; 
I  can't  make  out  but  jest  one  ginnle  rule, — 
No  man  need  go  an'  make  himself  a  fool. 
Nor  jedgment  ain't  like  mutton,  thet  can't  bear 
Cookin'  tu  long,  nor  be  took  up  tu  rare. 

Ez  I  wuz  say'n',  I  hain't  no  chance  to  speak 
So  's  't  all  the  country  dreads  me  onct  a  week. 
But  I've  consid'ble  o'  thet  sort  o'  head 
Thet  sets  to  home  an'  thinks  wut  might  be  said, 
The  sense  thet  grows  an'  werrits  underneath, 
Comin'  belated  like  your  wisdom-teeth, 
An'  git  so  el'kent,  sometimes,  to  my  gardin 
Thet  I  don'  vally  public  life  a  fardin'. 
Our  Parson  Wilbur  (blessin's  on  his  head !) 
'Mongst  other  stories  of  ole  times  he  hed, 
Talked  of  a  feller  that  rehearsed  his  spfeads 
Beforehan'  to  his  rows  o'  kebbigeheads, 
(Ef 't  warn't  Demossenes,  I  guess  'twuz  Sisro,) 
Appealin'  fust  to  thet  an'  then  to  this  row, 
Accordin'  ez  he  thought  thet  his  idees 
Their  diff'runt  ev'riges  o'  brains  'ould  please ; 
"An',"  sez  the  Parson,  "to  hit  right,  you  must 
Git  used  to  maysurin'  your  hearers  fust ; 


2  5  6  THE  BIGL  0  W  PAPERS. 

For,  take  my  word  for 't,  when  all 's  come  an*  pasl^ 
The  kebbige-heads  '11  cair  the  day  et  last ; 
Th'  ain't  ben  a  meetin'  sence  the  worl'  begun 
But  they  made  (raw  or  biled  ones)  ten  to  one." 

I've  alius  foun'  'em,  I  allow,  sence  then 

About  ez  good  for  talkin'  to  ez  men  ; 

They  '11  take  edvice,  like  other  folks,  to  keep 

(To  use  it  'ould  be  holdin'  on  't  tu  cheap), 

They  listen  wal,  don'  kick  up  when  you  scold  'em, 

An'  ef  they've  tongues,  hev  sense  enough  to  hold  'em  ; 

Though  th'  ain't  no  denger  we  shall  lose  the  breed, 

I  gin'Uy  keep  a  score  or  so  for  seed. 

An'  when  my  sappiness  gits  spry  in  spring, 

So  's  't  my  tongue  itches  to  run  on  full  swing, 

I  fin'  'em  ready-planted  in  March-meetin', 

Warm  ez  a  lyceum-audience  in  their  greetin', 

An'  pleased  to  hear  my  spoutin'  frum  the  fence, — 

Comin',  ez  't  doos,  entirely  free  'f  expense. 

This  year  I  made  the  foUerin'  observations 

Extrump'ry,  like  most  other  tri'ls  o'  patience, 

An',  no  reporters  bein'  sent  express 

To  work  their  abstrac's  up  into  a  mess 

Ez  like  th'  oridg'nal  ez  a  woodcut  pictur' 

Thet  chokes  the  life  out  like  a  boy-constrictor, 

I've  writ  'em  out,  an'  so  avide  all  jeal'sies 

'Twixt  nonsense  o'  my  own  an'  some  one's  else's. 

(N.B. — Reporters  gin'lly  git  a  hint 

To  make  dull  orjunces  seem  'live  in  print, 

An',  ez  I  hev  t'  report  myself,  I  vum, 

I'll  put  th'  applauses  where  they'd  ougK  to  come !) 


J 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  257 

My  feller  kebbige-heads,  who  look  so  green, 
I  vow  to  gracious  thet  ef  I  could  dreen 
The  world  of  all  its  hearers  but  jest  you, 
'Twould  leave  'bout  all  tha'  is  wuih  talkin'  to, 
An'  you,  my  ven'able  ol'  frien's,  thet  show 
Upon  your  crowns  a  sprinklin'  o'  March  snow, 
Ez  ef  mild  Time  had  christened  every  sense 
For  wisdom's  church  o'  second  innocence, 
Nut  Age's  winter,  no,  no  sech  a  thing, 
But  jest  a  kin'  o'  slippin'-back  o'  spring, — 

[Sev'ril  noses  blowed.] 
We've  gathered  here,  ez  ushle,  to  decide 
Which  is  the  Lord's  an'  which  is  Satan's  side, 
Coz  all  the  good  or  evil  thet  can  heppen 
Is  'long  o*  which  on  'em  you  choose  for  Cappen. 

[Cries  o'  "  Thet's  so  1 "] 

Aprul's  come  back ;  the  swellin'  buds  of  oak 
Dim  the  fur  hillsides  with  a  purplish  smoke ; 
The  brooks  are  loose  an',  singing  to  be  seen 
(Like  gals),  make  all  the  hollers  soft  an'  green ; 
The  birds  are  here,  for  all  the  season's  late ; 
They  take  the  sun's  height  an'  don'  never  wait ; 
Soon  'z  he  officially  declares  it's  spring 
Their  light  hearts  lift  'em  on  a  north'ard  wing. 
An'  th'  ain't  an  acre,  fur  ez  you  can  hear, 
Can't  by  the  music  tell  the  time  o'  year ; 
But  thet  white  dove  Carliny  scared  away, 
Five  year  ago,  jes'  sech  an  Aprul  day ; 
Peace,  that  we  hoped  'ould  come  an'  build  last  year 
An'  coo  by  every  housedoor,  isn't  here, — 
No,  nor  wun't  never  be,  for  all  our  jaw, 
Till  we're  ez  brave  in  pol'tics  ez  in  war  ! 

«7 


a58  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

O  Lord,  ef  folks  wuz  made  so  's  't  they  could  see 

The  begnet-pint  there  is  to  an  idee ! 

[Sensation. 
Ten  times  the  danger  in  'em  th'  is  in  steel ; 
They  run  your  soul  thru  an'  you  never  feel, 
But  crawl  about  an'  seem  to  think  you're  livin', 
Poor  shells  o'  men,  nut  wuth  the  Lord's  forgivin', 
Till  you  come  bunt  ag'in  a  real  live  feet, 
An'  go  to  pieces  when  you'd  ough'  to  ect ! 
Thet  kin'  o'  begnet  's  wut  we're  crossin'  now, 
An'  no  man,  fit  to  nevvigate  a  scow, 
'Ould  Stan'  expectin'  help  from  Kingdom  Come, 
While  t'other  side  druv  their  cold  iron  home. 


My  frien's,  you  never  gethered  from  my  mouth, 

No,  nut  one  word  ag'in  the  South  ez  South, 

Nor  th'  ain't  a  livin'  man,  white,  brown,  nor  black. 

Gladder  'n  wut  I  should  be  to  take  'em  back ; 

But  all  I  ask  of  Uncle  Sam  is  fust 

To  write  up  on  his  door,  "No  goods  on  trust;" 

[Cries  of  "  Thet's  the  ticket ! "] 
Give  us  cash  down  in  ekle  laws  for  all. 
An'  they'll  be  snug  inside  afore  nex*  fall 
Give  wut  they  ask,  an'  we  shall  hev  Jamaker, 
Wuth  minus  some  consid'able  an  acre ; 
Give  wut  they  need,  an'  we  shell  get  'fore  long 
A  nation  all  one  piece,  rich,  peacefle,  strong ; 
Make  'em  Amerikin,  an'  they'll  begin 
To  love  their  country  ez  they  loved  their  sin  ; 
Let  'em  stay  Southun,  an'  you've  kep'  a  sore 
Ready  to  fester  ez  it  done  afore. 
No  mortle  man  can  boast  of  perfic  vision, 
But  the  one  moleblin'  thing  is  Indecision, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  259 

An'  th'  ain't  no  futur'  for  the  man  nor  state 

That  out  of  j-u-s-t  can't  spell  great 

Some  foiks  'ould  call  thet  reddikle ;  do  you  ? 

'Twas  common-sense  afore  the  war  wuz  thru  j 

Thet  loaded  all  our  guns  an'  made  'em  speak 

So's  't  Europe  heared  'em  clearn  acrost  the  creek ; 

"They're  drivin'  o'  their  spiles  down  now,"  sez  she, 

"  To  the  hard  grennit  o'  God's  fust  idee ; 

Ef  they  reach  thet,  Democ'cy  needn't  fear 

The  tallest  airthquakes  we  can  git  up  here." 

Some  call't  insultin'  to  ask  ary  pledge, 

An'  say  'twill  only  set  their  teeth  on  edge, 

But  folks  you've  jest  licked,  fur  'z  I  ever  see. 

Are  'bout  ez  mad  'z  they  wal  know  how  to  be ; 

It's  better  than  the  Rebs  themselves  expected 

'Fore  they  see  Uncle  Sam  wilt  down  henpected ; 

Be  kind  'z  you  please,  but  fustly  make  things  fast, 

For  plain  Truth  's  all  the  kindness  thet  '11  last ; 

Ef  treason  is  a  crime,  ez  some  folks  say, 

How  could  we  punish  it  a  milder  way 

Than  sayin'  to  'em,  "  Brethren,  lookee  here, 

We'll  jes'  divide  things  with  ye,  sheer  an'  sheer, 

An'  sence  both  come  o'  pooty  strongbacked  daddies, 

You  take  the  Darkies,  ez  we've  took  the  Paddies ; 

Ign'ant  an'  poor  we  took  'em  by  the  hand. 

An'  they're  the  bones  an'  sinners  o'  the  land." 

I  ain't  o'  them  thet  fancy  there's  a  loss  on 

Every  inves'ment  thet  don't  start  from  Bos'on ; 

But  I  know  this:  our  money  's  safest  trusted 

In  sunthin',  come  wut  will,  thet  carCt  be  busted, 

An'  thet's  the  old  Amerikin  idee. 

To  make  a  man  a  Man  an'  let  him  be. 

[Gret  applause.] 


26o  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Ez  for  their  I'yalty,  don't  take  a  goad  to't, 

But  I  do  want  to  block  their  only  road  to't 

By  lettin'  'em  believe  thet  they  can  git 

Mor'n  wut  they  lost,  out  of  our  little  wit ; 

I  tell  ye  wut,  I'm  'fraid  we'll  drif  to  leeward 

'Thout  we  can  put  more  stiffenin'  into  Seward ; 

He  seems  to  think  Columby  'd  better  ect 

Like  a  scared  widder  with  a  boy  stiff-necked 

Thet  stomps  an'  swears  he  wun't  come  in  to  supper ; 

She  mus'  set  up  for  him,  ez  weak  ez  Tupper, 

Keepin'  the  Constitootion  on  to  warm. 

Tell  he'll  eccept  her  'pologies  in  form  ; 

The  neighbours  tell  her  he's  a  cross-grained  cuss 

Thet  needs  a  hidin'  'fore  he  comes  to  wus  ; 

"No,"  sez  Ma  Seward,  "he's  ez  good  'z  the  best, 

All  he  wants  now  is  sugar-plums  an'  rest ; " 

"  He's  sarsed  my  Pa,"  sez  one ;  "  He  stoned  my  son," 

Another  edds.     "  Oh,  wal,  'twuz  jest  his  fun." 

"He  tried  to  shoot  our  Uncle  Sam  well  dead." 

"  'Twuz  only  tryin'  a  noo  gun  he  hed." 

"  Wal,  all  we  ask 's  to  hev  it  understood 

You'll  take  his  gun  away  from  him  for  good  ; 

We  don't,  wal,  nut  exac'ly,  like  his  play, 

Seein'  he  alius  kin'  o*  shoots  our  way. 

You  kill  your  fatted  calves  to  no  good  eend, 

'Thout  his  fust  sayin',  *  Mother,  I  hev  sinned  ! '  " 

['•  Amen  !  "  frum  Deac'n  Greenleaf.] 

The  Pres'dunt  he  thinks  thet  the  slickest  plan 

*Ould  be  t'  allow  thet  he's  our  on'y  man, 

An'  thet  we  fit  thru  all  thet  dreffle  war 

Jes'  for  his  private  glory  an'  eclor ; 

"Nobody  ain't  a  Union  man,"  sez  he, 

'*  'Thout  he  agrees,  thru  thick  an'  thin,  with  me ; 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  261 

Warn't  Andrew  Jackson's  'nitials  jes'  like  mine  ? 

An'  ain't  that  sunthin'  like  a  right  divine 

To  cut  up  ez  kentenkerous  ez  I  please, 

An'  treat  your  Congress  like  a  nest  o'  fleas  ?  " 

Wal,  I  expec'  the  People  wouldn't  care,  if 

The  question  now  wuz  techin'  bank  or  tariff, 

But  I  conclude  they've  'bout  made  up  their  mind 

This  ain't  the  fittest  time  to  go  it  blind, 

Nor  these  ain't  metters  thet  with  pol'tics  swings, 

But  goes  'way  down  amongst  the  roots  o'  things  ; 

Coz  Sumner  talked  o'  whitewashin'  one  day 

They  wun't  let  four  years'  war  be  throwed  away. 

' '  Let  the  South  hev  her  rights?  "     They  say,  "  Thet's  you ! 

But  nut  greb  hold  of  other  folks's  tu." 

Who  owns  this  country,  is  it  they  or  Andy  ? 

Leastways  it  ough'  to  be  the  People  and  he ; 

Let  him  be  senior  pardner,  ef  he's  so. 

But  let  them  kin'  o'  smuggle  in  ez  Co ;  [Laughter.] 

Did  he  diskiver  it  ?     Consid'ble  numbers 

Think  thet  the  job  wuz  taken  by  Columbus. 

Did  he  set  tu  an'  make  it  wut  it  is  ? 

Ef  so,  I  guess  the  One-Man-power  hez  riz. 

Did  he  put  thru  the  rebbles,  clear  the  docket, 

An'  pay  th'  expenses  out  of  his  own  pocket  ? 

Ef  thet's  the  case,  then  everythin'  I  exes 

Is  t'  hev  him  come  an'  pay  my  ennooal  texes. 

[Profound  sensation.] 
VVas't  he  thet  shou'dered  all  them  million  guns  ? 
Did  he  lose  all  the  fathers,  brothers,  sons  ? 
Is  this  ere  pop'lar  gov'ment  thet  we  run 
A  kin  o'  sulky,  made  to  kerry  one  ? 
An'  is  the  country  goin'  to  knuckle  down 
To  hev  Smith  §ort  their  letters  'stid  o'  Brown  ? 


262  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

Who  wuz  the  'Nited  States  'fore  Richmon'  fell  ? 

Wuz  the  South  needfle  their  full  name  to  spell  ? 

An'  can't  we  spell  it  in  that  short-han'  way 

Till  th'  underpinnin'  's  settled  so's  to  stay  ? 

Who  cares  for  the  Resolves  of '6i, 

Thet  tried  to  coax  an  airthquake  with  a  bun  ? 

Hez  act'ly  nothin'  taken  place  sence  then 

To  larn  folks  they  must  hendle  fects  like  men  ? 

Ain't  this  the  true  p'int?     Did  the  Rebs  accep'  'em? 

Ef  nut,  whose  fault  is't  thet  we  hevn't  kep'  'em  ? 

Warn't  there  two  sides  ?  an'  don't  it  stend  to  reason 

Thet  this  week's  'Nited  States  ain't  las'  week's  treason  ? 

When  all  these  sums  is  done,  with  nothin'  missed, 

An'  nut  afore,  this  school  '11  be  dismissed. 

I  knowed  ez  wal  ez  though  I'd  seen't  with  eyes 

Thet  when  the  war  wuz  over  copper  'd  rise, 

An'  thet  we'd  hev  a  rile-up  in  our  kettle 

'T would  need  Leviathan's  whole  skin  to  settle  j 

I  thought  'twould  take  about  a  generation 

'Fore  we  could  wal  begin  to  be  a  nation, 

But  I  allow  I  never  did  imegine 

*T would  be  our  Pres'dunt  thet  'ould  drive  a  wedge  in 

To  keep  the  split  from  closin'  ef  it  could, 

An'  healin'  over  with  new  wholesome  wood  ; 

For  th'  ain't  no  chance  o'  healin'  while  they  think 

Thet  law  an'  gov'ment's  only  printer's  ink ; 

I  mus'  confess  I  thank  him  for  discoverin' 

The  curus  way  in  which  the  States  are  sovereign ; 

They  ain't  nut  quite  enough  so  to  rebel. 

But,  when  they  fin'  it's  costly  to  raise  h ^ 

[A  groan  from  Deac'n  G.3 
Why,  then,  for  jes'  the  same  superl'tive  reason, 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  363 

They're  'most  too  much  so  to  be  tetched  for  treason; 

They  can't  go  out,  but  ef  they  somehow  du^ 

Their  sovereignty  don't  noways  go  out  tu ; 

The  State  goes  out,  the  sovereignty  don't  stir, 

But  stays  to  keep  the  door  ajar  for  her. 

He  thinks  secession  never  took  'em  out, 

An'  mebby  he's  correc',  but  I  misdoubt ; 

Ef  they  warn't  out,  then  why,  'n  the  name  o'  sin, 

Make  all  this  row  'bout  lettin'  of  'em  in  ? 

In  law,  p'r'aps  nut ;  but  there's  a  diffurence,  ruther, 

Betwixt  your  mother-'n-law  an'  real  mother, 

[Derisive  cheers. 
An'  I,  for  one,  shall  wish  they'd  all  been  sonieres^ 
Long  'z  U.  S.  Texes  are  sech  reg'lar  comers. 
But,  O  my  patience !  must  we  wriggle  back 
Into  th'  ole  crooked,  pettyfoggin'  track, 
When  our  artil'ry-wheels  a  road  hev  cut 
Stret  to  our  purpose  ef  we  keep  the  rut  ? 
War's  jes'  dead  waste  excep'  to  wipe  the  slate 
Clean  for  the  ciph'rin  of  some  nobler  fate. 

[Applause. 

Ez  for  dependin'  on  their  oaths  an'  thet, 
'Twun't  bind  em'  mor'n  the  ribbin  roun'  my  het; 
I  heard  a  fable  once  from  Othniel  Starns, 
That  pints  it  slick  ez  weathercocks  do  barns : 
Onct  on  a  time  the  wolves  hed  certing  rights 
Inside  the  fold :  they  used  to  sleep  their  nights, 
An',  bein'  cousins  o'  the  dogs,  they  took 
Their  turns  et  watchin',  reg'lar  ez  a  book; 
But  somehow,  when  the  dogs  hed  gut  asleep. 
Their  love  o'  mutton  beat  their  love  o'  sheep. 
Till  gradilly  the  shepherds  come  to  see 
Things  warn't  agoin'  ez  they'd  ough'  to  be; 


264  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

So  they  sent  off  a  deacon  to  remonstrate 

Along  'th  the  wolves  an'  urge  'em  to  go  on  straight; 

They  didn'  seem  to  set  much  by  the  deacon, 

Nor  preachin'  didn'  cow  'em,  nut  to  speak  on; 

Fin'Iy  they  swore  thet  they'd  go  out  an'  stay, 

An'  hev  their  fill  o'  mutton  every  day; 

Then  dogs  an'  shepherds,  after  much  hard  dammin', 

[Groan  from  Deac'n  G.] 
Turned  tu  an  gave  'em  a  tormented  lammin', 
An*  sez,  "Ye  shan't  go  out,  the  murrain  rot  ye, 
To  keep  us  wastin'  half  our  time  to  watch  ye ! " 
But  then  the  question  come,  How  live  together 
'Thout  losin'  sheep,  nor  nary  yew  nor  wether? 
Now  there  wuz  some  dogs  (noways  wuth  their  keep) 
Thet  sheered  their  cousins'  tastes  an'  sheered  the  sheep; 
They  sez,  "  Be  gin'rous,  let  'em  swear  right  in, 
An',  ef  they  backslide,  let  'em  swear  ag'in; 
Jes'  let  'em  put  on  sheep-skins  whilst  they're  swearin' : 
To  ask  for  more  'ould  be  beyond  all  bearin'." 
*'  Be  gin'rous  for  yourselves,  where  _)'<?«  're  to  pay, 
Thet's  the  best  prectice,"  sez  a  shepherd  gray; 
*'  Ez  for  their  oaths  they  wun't  be  wuth  a  button. 
Long  'z  you  don't  cure  'em  o'  their  taste  for  mutton: 
Th'  ain't  but  one  solid  way,  howe'er  you  puzzle: 
Tell  they're  convarted,  let  'em  wear  a  muzzle." 

[Cries  of  "  Bully  for  you  ! "] 

I've  noticed  thet  each  half-baked  scheme's  abetters 
Are  in  the  hebbit  o'  producin'  letters 
Writ  by  all  sorts  o'  never-heared-on  fellers, 
'Bout  ez  oridge'nal  ez  the  wind  in  bellers; 
I've  noticed,  tu,  it's  the  quack  med'cines  gits 
(An'  needs)  the  grettest  heaps  o'  stiffykits; 

[Two  apothekeries  goes  out.] 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  265 

Now,  sence  I  lef  off  creepin'  on  all  fours, 
I  hain't  ast  no  man  to  endorse  my  course; 
It's  full  ez  cheap  to  be  your  own  endorser, 
An'  ef  I've  made  a  cup,  141  fin'  the  saucer; 
But  I've  some  letters  here  from  t'other  side. 
An'  them's  the  sort  thet  helps  me  to  decide; 
Tell  me  for  wut  the  copper-comp'nies  hanker, 
An'  I'll  tell  you  jest  where  it's  safe  to  anchor. 

[Faint  hiss.] 
Fus'ly  the  Hon'ble  B.  O.  Sawin  writes 
Thet  for  a  spell  he  could'n  sleep  o'  nights, 
Puzzlin'  which  side  wuz  preudentest  to  pin  to. 
Which  wuz  th'  ole  homestead,  which  the  temp'ry  lean  to; 
Et  fust  he  jedged  'twould  right-side-up  his  pan 
To  come  out  ez  a  'ridge'nal  Union  man, 
" But  now,"  he  sez,  "I  ain't  nut  quite  so  fresh; 
The  winnin'  horse  is  goin'  to  be  Secesh; 
You  might,  las'  spring,  hev  eas'ly  walked  the  course, 
'Fore  we  contrived  to  doctor  th'  Union  horse; 
Now  we  're  the  ones  to  walk  aroun'  the  nex'  track : 
Jest  you  take  hold  an'  read  the  foUerin'  extrac', 
Out  of  a  letter  I  received  last  week 
From  an  ole  frien'  thet  never  sprung  a  leak, 
A  Nothun  Dem'crat  o'  th'  ole  Jarsey  blue, 
Born  copper-sheathed  an'  copper-fastened  tu." 

"These  four  years  past  it  hez  been  tough 
To  say  which  side  a  feller  went  for; 
Guideposts  all  gone,  roads  muddy  'n'  rough, 
An'  nothin'  doin'  wut  'twuz  meant  for; 
Pickets  a-firin'  left  an'  right. 
Both  sides  a  lettin'  rip  et  sight, — 
Life  warn't  wuth  hardly  payin'  rent  for. 


266  THE  B  J  GLOW  PAPERS. 

"Columby  gut  her  back  up  so, 
It  warn't  no  use  a-tryin'  to  stop  her, — 
War's  emptin's  riled  her  very  dough 
An'  made  it  rise  an'  act  improper; 
.    'Twuz  full  ez  much  ez  I  could  du 
To  jes'  lay  low  an'  worry  thru, 
'Thout  hevin'  to  sell  out  my  copper. 

"  Afore  the  war  your  mod'rit  men  , 
Could  set  an'  sun  'em  on  the  fences, 
Ciph'rin'  the  chances  up,  an'  then 
Jump  off  which  way  bes'  paid  expenses; 
Sence,  'twus  so  resky  ary  way, 
/didn't  hardly  darst  to  say 
I  'greed  with  Paley's  Evidences. 

[Groan  from  Deac'n  G.] 

"  Ask  Mac  ef  tryin'  to  set  the  fence 

Warn't  like  bein'  rid  upon  a  rail  on't, 

Headin'  your  party  with  a  sense 

O'  bein'  tipjint  in  the  tail  on't, 

And  tryin'  to  think  thet,  on  the  whole, 

You  kin'  o'  quasi  your  own  soul 

When  Belmont's  gut  a  bill  o'  sale  on't? 

[Three  cheers  for  Grant  and  Sherman.] 

"  Come  peace,  I  sposed  thet  folks  'ould  like 
Their  pol'tics  done  ag'in  by  proxy, 
Give  their  noo  loves  the  bag  an'  strike 
A  fresh  trade  with  their  reg'lar  doxy; 
But  the  drag's  broke,  now  slavery's  gone, 
An'  there's  gret  resk  they'll  blunder  on, 
Ef  they  ain't  stopped,  to  real  Democ'cy. 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  267 

"  We've  gut  an  awful  row  to  hoe 

In  this  'ere  job  o'  reconstructin'; 

Folks  dunno  skurce  which  way  to  go, 

Where  th'  ain't  some  boghole  to  be  ducked  in; 

But  one  thing's  clear;  there  is  a  crack, 

Ef  we  pry  hard,  'twixt  white  and  black, 

Where  the  old  makebate  can  be  tucked  in. 

"  No  white  man  sets  in  airth's  broad  aisle 

Thet  I  ain't  willin'  t'  own  ez  brother, 

An'  ef  he's  heppened  to  strike  ile, 

I  dunno,  fin'ly,  but  I'd  ruther; 

An'  Paddies,  long  'z  they  vote  all  right, 

Though  they  ain't  jest  a  nat'ral  white, 

I  hold  one  on  'em  good  'z  another. 

[Applause.] 

"  Wut  is  there  lef  I'd  like  to  know, 
Ef  'tain't  the  difference  o'  colour, 
To  keep  up  self-respec'  an'  show 
The  human  natur'  of  a  fullah  ? 
Wut  good  in  bein'  white,  onless 
It's  fixed  by  law,  nut  lef  to  guess, 
That  we  are  smarter  an'  they  duller  ? 

"  Ef  we're  to  hev  our  ekle  rights, 
'T  wun't  du  to  'low  no  competition; 
Th'  ole  debt  doo  us  for  bein'  whites 
Ain't  safe  onless  we  stop  th'  emission 
O'  these  noo  notes,  whose  specie  base 
Is  human  natur',  'thout  no  trace 
O'  shape,  nor  colour,  nor  condition. 

[Continood  applause.] 


868  THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS. 

"  So  fur  I'd  writ  an'  could  n'  jedge 

Aboard  wut  boat  I'd  best  take  pessige, 

My  brains  all  mincemeat,  'thout  no  edge 

Upon  'em  more  than  tu  a  sessige, 

But  now  it  seems  ez  though  I  see 

Sunthin'  resemblin'  an  idee, 

Sence  Johnson's  speech  an'  veto  message. 

"  I  like  the  speech  best,  I  confess, 

The  logic,  preudence,  an'  good  taste  on  't, 

An'  it's  so  mad,  I  ruther  guess 

There's  some  dependence  to  be  placed  on  *t; 

[Laughter.] 
It's  narrer,  but  'twixt  you  an'  me, 
Out  o'  the  allies  o'  J.  D. 
A  temp'ry  party  can  be  based  on  't 

"  Jes'  to  hold  on  till  Johnson  's  thru 

An'  dug  his  Presidential  grave  is, 

An'  then! — who  knows  but  we  could  slew 

The  country  roun'  to  put  in ? 

Wun't  some  folks  rare  up  when  we  pull 
Out  o*  their  eyes  our  Union  wool 
An*  lam  'em  wut  a  p'lit'cle  shave  is  1 

"  O,  did  it  seem  'z  ef  Providence 
Could  ever  send  a  second  Tyler  ? 
To  see  the  South  all  back  to  once, 
Reapin'  the  spiles  o'  the  Freesiler, 
Is  cute  ez  though  an  ingineer 
Should  claim  th'  old  iron  for  his  sheer 
Coz  'twas  himself  that  bust  the  biler  ! " 

[Gret  laughter.] 


THE  BIGLOW  PAPERS.  269 

Thet  tells  the  story !     Thet's  wut  we  shall  git 

By  tryin'  squirtguns  on  the  burnin'  Pit; 

For  the  day  never  comes  when  it'll  du 

To  kick  off  Dooty  like  a  worn-out  shoe. 

I  seem  to  hear  a  whisperin'  in  the  air, 

A  sighin'  like,  of  unconsoled  despair, 

Thet  comes  from  nowhere  an'  from  everywhere. 

An'  seems  to  say,  "  Why  died  we  ?  warn't  it,  then, 

To  settle,  once  for  all,  thet  men  wuz  men  ? 

0,  airth's  sweet  cup  snetched  from  us  barely  tasted. 

The  grave's  real  chill  is  feelin'  life  wuz  wasted  ! 

O,  you  we  lef,  long-lingerin'  et  the  door, 

Lovin'  you  best,  coz  we  loved  Her  the  more, 

Thet  Death,  not  we,  had  conquered,  we  should  feel 

Ef  she  upon  our  memory  turned  her  heel, 

An'  unregretful  throwed  us  all  away 

To  flaunt  it  in  a  Blind  Man's  Holiday !  " 

My  frien's,  I've  talked  nigh  on  to  long  enough. 
I  hain't  no  call  to  bore  ye  coz  ye're  tough ; 
My  lungs  are  sound,  an'  our  own  v'ice  delights 
Our  ears,  but  even  kebbige-heads  hez  rights. 
It's  the  las'  time  thet  I  shell  e'er  address  ye, 
But  you'll  soon  fin'  some  new  tormentor  :  bless  ye ! 
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IS  BYRON'S     LETTERS    AND     JOURNALS.       SELECTED, 
with  Introduction,  by  Mathilde  Blind. 

i6  LEIGH  HUNT'S  ESSAYS.     WITH  INTRODUCTION  AND 
Notes  by  Arthur  Symons. 

17  LONGFELLOW'S    "HYPERION,"    "KAVANAGH,"    AND 

"The  Trouveres."    With  Introduction  by  W.  Tirebuck. 

18  GREAT    MUSICAL    COMPOSERS.       BY    G.    F.    FERRIS. 

Edited,  with  Introduction,  by  Mrs.  William  Sharp. 

19  THE  MEDITATIONS  OF  MARCUS  AURELIUS.      EDITED 

by  Alice  Zimmem. 

20  THE  TEACHING  OF  EPICTETUS.     TRANSLATED  FROM 

the  Greek,  with  Introduction  and  Notes,  by  T.  W.  Rolleston. 

21  SELECTIONS  FROM   SENECA.     WITH  INTRODUCTION 

by  Walter  Clode. 

22  SPECIMEN  DAYS  IN  AMERICA.     BY  WALT  WHITMAN. 

Revised  by  the  Author,  with  fresh  Preface. 

23  DEMOCRATIC    VISTAS,    AND    OTHER    PAPERS.       BY 

Walt  Whitman.    (Published  by  arrangement  with  the  Author.) 

24  WHITE'S   NATURAL  HISTORY  OF   SELBORNE.     WITH 

a  Preface  by  Richard  Jefferies. 

25  DEFOE'S     CAPTAIN     SINGLETON.        EDITED,     WITH 

Introduction,  by  H.  Halliday  Sparling. 

26  MAZZINI'S     ESSAYS :     LITERARY,     POLITICAL,     AND 

Religious.    With  Introduction  by  William  Clarke. 

27  PROSE  WRITINGS  OF  HEINE.     WITH  INTRODUCTION 

by  Havelock  Ellis. 

28  REYNOLDS'S    DISCOURSES.      WITH     INTRODUCTION 

by  Helen  Zimmem. 

29  PAPERS    OF    STEELE    AND    ADDISON.      EDITED    BY 

Walter  Lewin. 

30  BURNS'S     LETTERS.       SELECTED    AND    ARRANGED, 

with  Introduction,  by  J.  Logie  Robertson,  M.A. 

31  VOLSUNGA    SAGA.      V/illiam  Morris.      WITH    INTRO- 

duction  by  H.  H.  Sparling. 


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32  SARTOR  RESARTUS.      BY  THOMAS   CARLYLE.     WITH 

Introduction  by  Ernest  Rhys. 

33  SELECT    WRITINGS    OF    EMERSON.       WITH     INTRO- 

duction  by  Percival  Chubb. 

34  AUTOBIOGRAPHY    OF     LORD     HERBERT.       EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  ^Yill  H.  Dircks. 

35  ENGLISH      PROSE,      FROM     MAUNDEVILLE     TO 

Thackeray.    Chosen  and  Edited  by  Arthur  Galton. 

36  THE  PILLARS  OF  SOCIETY,  AND  OTHER  PLAYS.     BY 

Henrik  Ibssn.    Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Havelock  Elli.s. 

37  IRISH     FAIRY    AND     FOLK    TALES.       EDITED    AND 

Selected  by  W.  B.  Yeats. 

38  ESSAYS     OF    DR.    JOHNSON,    WITH     BIOGRAPHICAL 

Introduction  and  Notes  by  Stuart  J.  Reid. 

39  ESSAYS     OF    WILLIAM     HAZLITT.      SELECTED     AND 

Edited,  with  Introduction  and  Notes,  by  Frank  Carr. 

40  LANDOR'S   PENTAMERON,   AND   OTHER    IMAGINARY 

Conversations.    Edited,  with  a  Preface,  by  H.  Ellis. 

41  POE'S   TALES  AND   ESSAYS.     EDITED,   WITH   INTRO- 

duction,  by  Ernest  Rhys. 

43  VICAR    OF  WAKEFIELD.      BY    OLIVER    GOLDSMITH. 
Edited,  with  Preface,  by  Ernest  Rhys. 

43  POLITICAL     ORATIONS,      FROM     WENTWORTH     TO 

Macaulay.    Edited,  with  Introduction,  by  William  Clarke. 

44  THE    AUTOCRAT    OF    THE    BREAKFAST-TABLE.      BY 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 

45  THE  POET  AT  THE  BREAKFAST-TABLE.     BY  OLIVER 

Wendell  Holmes. 

46  THE  PROFESSOR  AT    THE    BREAKFAST-TABLE.      BY 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes. 

47  LORD     CHESTERFIELD'S     LETTERS     TO     HIS     SON. 

Selected,  with  Introduction,  by  Charles  Sayle. 

48  STORIES  FROM  CARLETON.    SELECTED,  WITH  INTRO- 

duction,  by  W.  Yeats. 


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49  JANE  EYRE.  BY  CHARLOTTE  BRONTE.   EDITED  BY 

Clement  K.  Shorter. 

50  ELIZABETHAN     ENGLAND.       EDITED     BY    LOTHROP 

Withington,  with  a  Preface  by  Dr.  Furnivall. 

51  THE  PROSE  WRITINGS  OF  THOMAS  DAVIS.     EDITED 

by  T.  W.  RoUeston. 

52  SPENCE'S     ANECDOTES.       A     SELECTION.      EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction  and  Notes,  by  John  Underbill. 

53  MORE'S  UTOPIA,  AND  LIFE  OF  EDWARD  V.     EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  Maurice  Adams. 

54  SADI'S    GULISTAN,   OR    FLOWER    GARDEN.      TRANS- 

lated,  with  an  Essay,  by  James  Ross. 

55  ENGLISH    FAIRY    AND    FOLK    TALES.       EDITED     BY 

E.  Sidney  Hartland. 

56  NORTHERN    STUDIES.     BY    EDMUND    GOSSE.     WITH 

a  Note  by  Ernest  Rhys. 

57  EARLY  REVIEWS   OF  GREAT  WRITERS.     EDITED   BY 

E.  Stevenson. 

58  ARISTOTLE'S      ETHICS.        WITH      GEORGE      HENRY 

Lewes's  Essay  on  Aristotle  prefixed. 

59  LANDOR'S  PERICLES  AND  ASPASIA.      EDITED,  WITH 

an  Introduction,  by  Havelock  Ellis. 

60  ANNALS   OF  TACITUS.     THOMAS   GORDON'S    TRANS- 

lation.    Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Arthur  Galton. 

61  ESSAYS    OF    ELIA.      BY    CHARLES    LAMB.      EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  Ernest  Rhys. 

62  BALZAC'S     SHORTER     STORIES.       TRANSLATED     BY 

William  Wilson  and  the  Count  Stenbock. 

63  COMEDIES     OF    DE     MUSSET.       EDITED,    WITH    AN 

Introductory  Note,  by  S.  L.  G  wynn. 

64  CORAL    REEFS.      BY    CHARLES    DARWIN.      EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  Dr.  J.  W.  Williams. 

65  SHERIDAN'S     PLAYS.       EDITED,    WITH    AN     INTRO- 

duction,  by  Rudolf  Dircks. 


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66  OUR  VILLAGE.     BY  MISS   MITFORD.      EDITED,  WITH 

an  Introduction,  by  Ernest  Rhys. 

67  MASTER  HUMPHREY'S  CLOCK,  AND  OTHER  STORIES. 

By  Charles  Dickens.     NVith  Introduction  by  Frank  T.  Marzials. 

68  TALES     FROM    WONDERLAND.        BY    RUDOLPH 

Baumbach.    Translated  by  Helen  B.  Dole. 

69  ESSAYS  AND  PAPERS  BY  DOUGLAS  JERROLD.    EDITED 

by  Walter  Jerrold. 

70  VINDICATION    OF    THE    RIGHTS     OF    WOMAN.       BY 

Mary  WoUstonecraft.    Introduction  by  Mrs.  E.  Robins  Pennell. 

71  "THE  ATHENIAN  ORACLE."     A  SELECTION.     EDITED 

by  John  Underbill,  with  Prefatory  Note  by  Walter  Besant. 

72  ESSAYS     OF     SAINTE-BEUVP:.       TRANSLATED     AND 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Elizabeth  Lee. 

73  SELECTIONS     FROM     PLATO.       FROM    THE    TRANS- 

lation  of  Sydenham  and  Taylor.    Edited  by  T.  W.  Rolleston. 

74  HEINE'S  ITALIAN  TRAVEL  SKETCHES,  ETC.     TRANS- 

lated  by  Elizabeth  A.  Sharp.    With  an  Introduction  from  the  French  of 
Theophile  Gautier. 

75  SCHILLER'S    MAID     OF     ORLEANS.        TRANSLATED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  Major-General  I'atrick  Maxwell. 

76  SELECTIONS  FROM  SYDNEY  SMITH.     EDITED,  WITH 

an  Introduction,  by  Ernest  Rhys. 

77  THE  NEW  SPIRIT.     BY  HAVELOCK  ELLIS. 

78  THE  BOOK  OF  MARVELLOUS   ADVENTURES.     FROM 

the  "Morte  d' Arthur."     Edited  by  Ernest  Rhys.    [This,  together  with 
No.  1,  forms  the  complete  "Morte  d'ArUiur."] 

79  ESSAYS  AND  APHORISMS.      BY  SIR  ARTHUR  HELPS. 

With  an  Introduction  by  E.  A.  Helps. 

80  ESSAYS      OF     MONTAIGNE.       SELECTED,     WITH     A 

Prefatory  Note,  by  Percival  Chubb. 

81  THE  LUCK  OF  BARRY  LYNDON.   BY  W.  M. 

Thackeray.    Edited  by  F.  T.  Marzials. 

82  SCHILLER'S    WILLIAM    TELL.      TRANSLATED,    WITH 

an  Introduction,  by  Major-General  Patrick  Maxwell. 


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THE    SCOTT    LIBRARY— continued. 

83  CARLYLE'S     ESSAYS     ON     GERMAN      LITERATURE. 

With  an  Introduction  by  Ernest  Rhys. 

84  PLAYS  AND  DRAMATIC  ESSAYS  OF  CHARLES  LAMB. 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Budolf  Dircks. 

85  THE    PROSE    OF   WORDSWORTH.       SELECTED    AND 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Professor  William  Knight. 

£5  ESSAYS,  DIALOGUES,  AND  THOUGHTS  OF  COUNT 
Giacomo  Leopardi.  Translated,  with  an  Introduction  and  Notes,  by 
Major-General  Patrick  Maxwell. 

87  THE    INSPECTOR-GENERAL,      A   RUSSIAN    COMEDY. 

liy  Nikolai  V.  Gogol.    Translated  from  the  original,  with  an  Introduction 
and  Notes,  by  Arthur  A.  Sykes. 

88  ESSAYS  AND  APOTHEGMS  OF  FRANCIS,  LORD  BACON. 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  John  Buchan. 

89  PROSE  OF  MILTON.     SELECTED  AND  EDITED,  WITH 

an  Introduction,  by  Richard  Garnett,  LL.D. 

90  THE     REPUBLIC     OF     PLATO.        TRANSLATED     BY 

Thomas  Taylor,  with  an  Introduction  by  Theodore  Wratislaw. 

91  PASSAGES    FROM    FROISSART.       WITH    AN    INTRO- 

duction  by  Frank  T.  Marzials. 

92  THE  PROSE  AND  TABLE  TALK  OF  COLERIDGE. 

Edited  by  WUl  H.  Dircks. 

93  HEINE    IN   ART   AND   LETTERS.      TRANSLATED    BY 

Elizabeth  A.  Sharp. 

94  SELECTED    ESSAYS    OF    DE    QUINCEY.       WITH    AN 

Introduction  by  Sir  George  Douglas,  Bart. 

95  VASARI'S  LIVES  OF  ITALIAN  PAINTERS.     SELECTED 

and  Prefaced  by  Havelock  Ellis. 

96  LAOCOON,     AND      OTHER     PROSE     WRITINGS      OF 

LESSINQ.    A  new  Translation  by  W.  B.  Ronnfeldt. 

97  PELLEAS  AND   MELISANDA,  AND   THE   SIGHTLESS. 

Two  Plays  by  Maurice  Maeterlinck.    Translated  from  the  French  by 
I^iaurence  Alma  Tadema. 

98  THE  COMPLETE  ANGLER  OF  WALTON  AND  COTTON. 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Charles  HiU  Dick. 


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99  LKSSING'S   NATHAN   THE   WISE.      TRANSLATED    BY 
Major-General  Patrick  Maxwell. 

100  THE   POETRY  OF  THE  CELTIC  RACES,  AND  OTHER 

Essays  of  Ernest  Renan.    Translated  by  W.  G.  Hutchison. 

101  CRITICISMS,  REFLECTIONS,  ANDMAXIMSOFGOETHE. 

Translated,  with  an  Introduction,  by  W.  B.  Bonnfeldt. 

102  ESSAYS     OF    SCHOPENHAUER.         TRANSLATED     BY 

Mrs.  Rudolf  Dircks.     With  an  Introduction. 

103  RENAN'S  LIFE  OF  JESUS.       TRANSLATED,  WITH  AN 

Introduction,  by  William  G.  Hutchison. 

104  THE  CONFESSIONS  OF  SAINT  AUGUSTINE.    EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  Arthur  Symons. 

105  THE    PRINCIPLES    OF    SUCCESS     IN    LITERATURE. 

By  George  Henry  Lewes.    Edit«d,  with  an  Introduction,  by  T.  Sharper 
Knowlson. 

106  THE  LIVES  OF  DR.  JOHN  DONNE,  SIR  HENRY  WOTTON, 

Mr.  Richard  Hooker,  Mr.  George  Herbert,  and  Dr.  Robert  Sanderson. 
By  Izaac  Walton.    Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Charles  Hill  Dick. 

107  WHAT   IS   ART?     BY   LEO   TOLSTOY.     TRANSLATED 

from  the  Original    Russian   MS.,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Aylmer 
Maude. 

108  RENAN'S    ANTICHRIST.       TRANSLATED,    WITH    AN 

Introduction,  by  W.  G.  Hutchison. 

109  ORATIONS    OF    CICERO.      SELECTED   AND    EDITED, 

with  an  Introduction,  by  Fred.  W.  Norris. 
no  REFLECTIONS    ON   THE    REVOLUTION   IN   FRANCE. 
By  Edmund  Burke.     With  an  Introduction  by  George  Sampson. 

111  THE  LETTERS  OF  THE  YOUNGER  PLINY.     SERIES  L 

Translated,  with  an  Introductory  Essay,  by  John  B.  Firth,  B.A.,  Late 
Scholar  of  Queen's  College,  Oxford. 

112  THE  LETTERS  OF  THE  YOUNGER  PLINY.     SERIES  IL 

Translated  by  John  B.  Firth,  B.A. 

113  SELECTED  THOUGHTS  OF  BLAISE  PASCAL.     TRANS- 

lated  and  Edited,  with  an  Introduction  and  Notes,  by  Gertrude  Burford 
Rawlings. 

114  SCOTS  ESSAYISTS:  FROM  STIRLING  TO  STEVENSON. 

Edited,  with  an  Introduction,  by  Oliphant  Smeaton. 

115  ON   LIBERTY.     BY  JOHN   STUART   MILL.     WITH   AN 

Introduction  by  W.  L.  Courtney. 

116  THE  DISCOURSE  ON  METHOD  AND  METAPHYSICAL 

Meditations  of   Ren(5  Descartes.      Translated,  with  Introduction,  by 
Gertrude  B.  Rawlings. 

117  KALIDASA'S   SAKUNTALA,   Etc.     EDITED,  WITH  AN 

Introduction,  by  T.  Holme. 
I  iS  NEWMAN'S  UNIVERSITY  SKETCHES.     EDITED,  WITH 

Introduction,  by  George  Sampson. 
119  NEWMAN'S    SELECT    ESSAYS.      EDITED,   WITH    AN 

Introduction,  by  George  Sampson. 

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MANUALS   OF   EMPLOYMENT  FOR 
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inclination  or  necessity  are  looking  forward  to  earning  their  own 
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training  may  be  had,  the  cost  of  training,  and  the  prospect  of  em- 
ployment when  trained. 

IL— ELEMENTARY  TEACHING. 

This  manual  sums  up  clearly  the  chief  facts  which  need  to  be  known 
respecting  the  work  to  be  done  in  elementary  schools,  and  the  conditions 
under  which  women  may  take  a  share  in  such  work. 

III.— SICK   NURSING. 

This  manual  contains  useful  information  with  regard  to  every  branch 
of  Nursing — Hospital,  District,  Private,  and  Mental  Nursing,  and 
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IV.— MEDICINE. 

This  manual  gives  particulars  of  all  the  medical  qualifications  recog- 
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Vol.  n.— "GHOSTS,"  "AN  ENEMY  OF  THE 
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THE  HISTORY  OF  THE  EUROPEAN  FAUNA.  By  R.  F. 
Scharff,  B.Sc,  Ph.D.,  F.Z.S.     6s. 

THE  RACES  OF  MAN:  A  Sketch  of  Ethnography  and  Anthro- 
pology.    By  J.  Deniker.     6s, 

THE  PSYCHOLOGY  OF  RELIGION.     By  Prof,  Starbuck.     6s. 

THE  CHILD.   ByALEXANDERFRANCIsCHAMBERLAIN,  M.A.,  Ph.D.    6s, 

THE  MEDITERRANEAN  RACE,     By  Prof,  Sergi,     6s, 

THE  STUDY  OF  RELIGION.    By  Morris  Jastrow,  Jun.,  Ph.D.    6s. 

HISTORY  OF  GEOLOGY  AND  PALEONTOLOGY,  By  Prof. 
Karl  Alfred  von  Zittel,  Munich.     6s. 

THE  MAKING  OF  CITIZENS  :  A  Study  in  Comparative  Educa- 
tion.    By  R.  E.  Hughes,  M;A,     6s, 


SPECIAL  EDITION  OF  THE 

CANTERBURY    POETS. 

Square  Zvo,  Cloth^  Gilt  Top  Elegant,  Price  2s. 
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CHRISTIAN  YEAR.    With  Portrait  of  John  Keble. 

LONGFELLOW.    With  Portrait  of  Longfellow. 

SH  ELLE  Y.    With  Portrait  of  Shelley. 

WORDSWORTH.    With  Portrait  of  Wordsworth. 

WHITTIER.    With  Portrait  of  Whittier. 

BURNS.    Songs  \With  Portrait  of  Burns,  and  View  of  "Tho 

BURNS.    Poems  /  Auld  Brig  o'  Doon." 

KEATS.    With  Portrait  of  Keats. 

E.MERSON.    With  Portrait  of  Emerson. 

SONNETS  OF  THIS  CENTURY.    Portrait  of  P.  B.  Marston. 

WHITMAN.    With  Portrait  of  Whitman. 

LOVE  LETTERS  OF  A  VIOLINIST.    Portrait  of  Eric  Mackay. 

SCOTT.    Lady  of  the  Lake,^  With  Portrait  of  Sir  Walter  Scott, 

etc.  y       and    View   of    "  The  Silver 

SCOTT.    Marmion,  etc.        )        Strand,  Loch  Katrine." 
CHILDREN  OF  THE  POETS.    With  an  Engraving  of  "The 

Orphans,"  by  Gainsborough. 
SONNETS  OF  EUROPE.    With  Portrait  of  J.  A.  Svmonds. 
SYDNEY  DOBELL.    With  Portrait  of  Sydney  Dobell. 
HERRICK.    With  Portrait  of  Herrick. 
BALLADS  AND  RONDEAUS.     Portrait  of  W.  E.  Henley. 
IRISH  MINSTRELSY.    With  Portrait  of  Thomas  Davis. 
PARADISE  LOST.    With  Portrait  of  Milton. 
FAIRY  MUSIC.    Engraving  from  Drawing  by  C.  E.  Brock. 
GOLDEN  TREASURY.    With  Engraving  of  Virgin  Mother. 
AJIERICAN  SONNETS.    With  Portrait  of  J.  R.  Lowell. 
IMITATION  OF  CHRIST.    With  Engraving,  "Eccellomo." 
PAINTER  POETS.     With  Portrait  of  Walter  Crane. 
WOMEN  POETS.    With  Portrait  of  Mrs.  Browning. 
POEMS  OF  HON.  RODEN  NOEL.   Portrait  of  Hon.  R.  NoeL 
AMERICAN  HUMOROUS  VERSE.    Portrait  of  Mark  Twain. 
SOVGS  OF  FREEDOM.    With  Portrait  of  William  Morris. 
SCOTTISH  MINOR  POETS.    With  Portrait  of  R.  Tannahill. 
CONTEMPORARY   SCOTTISH  VERSE.     With  Portrait  of 

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PARADISE  REGAINED.    With  Portrait  of  Milton. 
CAVALIER  POETS.    With  Portrait  of  Suckling. 
HUMOROUS  POEMS.    With  Portrait  of  Hood. 
HERBERT.    With  Portrait  of  Herbert. 
FOE.    With  Portrait  of  Poe. 

OWEN  MEREDITH.    With  Portrait  of  late  Lord  Lytton. 
LOVE  LYRICS.    With  Portrait  of  Raleigh. 
GERMAN  BALLADS.    With  Portrait  of  Schiller. 
CAMPBELL.     With  Portrait  of  Campbell. 
CANADIAN  POEMS.    With  View  of  Mount  Stephen. 
E.\RLY  ENGLISH  POETRY.    With  Portrait  of  Earl  of  Surrey. 
ALLAN  RAMSAY.    With  Portrait  of  Ramsay. 
SPENSER.    With  Portrait  of  Spenser. 

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COWPER.    With  Portrait  of  Cowper. 

CHAUCER.    With  Portrait  of  Chaucer. 

COLERIDGE.    With  Portrait  of  Coleridge. 

POPE.    With  Portrait  of  Pope. 

BYRON.    Miscellaneous  \  w,tj,  T>-^.*,»5t„  ^t  w„„-, 

BYRON.    Don  Juan        |  With  Portraits  of  Byron. 

JACOBITE  SONGS.    With  Portrait  of  Prince  Charlie. 

BORDER  BALLADS.    With  View  of  Neidpath  Castle. 

AUSTRALIAN  BALLADS.    With  Portrait  of  A.  L.  Gordon. 

HOGG.    With  Portrait  of  Hogg. 

GOLDSMITH.    With  Portrait  of  Goldsmith. 

MOORE.    With  Portrait  of  Moore. 

DORA  GREENWELL.    With  Portrait  of  Dora  Greenwell. 

BLAKE.     With  Portrait  of  Blake. 

POEMS  OF  NATURE.    With  Portrait  of  Andrew  Lang. 

PBAED.     With  Portrait. 

SOUTHEY.    With  Portrait. 

HUGO.    With  Portrait. 

GOETHE.    With  Portrait. 

BERANGER.    With  Portrait 

HEINE.    With  Portrait. 

SEA  MUSIC.    With  View  of  Corbiftre  Eocks,  Jersey. 

SONG-TIDE.    With  Portrait  of  Philip  Bourke  Marston. 

LADY  OF  LYONS.    With  Portrait  of  Bulwer  Lytton. 

SHAKESPEARE  :  Songs  and  Sonneta.    With  Portrait 

BEN  JONSON.     With  Portrait 

HORACE.    With  Portrait 

CBABBE.    With  Portrait 

CRADLE  SONGS.  With  Engraving  from  Drawing  by  T.  B.  Macklin, 

BALLADS  OF  SPORT.  Do.  do. 

MATTHEW  ARNOLD.    With  Portrait 

AUSTIN'S  DAYS  OF  THE  YEAR.    With  Portrait 

CLOUGH'S  BOTHIE,  and  other  Poems.    With  View. 

BROWNING'S  Pippa  Passes,  etc.  ^ 

BROWNING'S  Blot  in  the  'Scutcheon,  etc.  J-With  Portrait 

BROWNING'S  Dramatic  Lyrics.  J 

:MACKAY'S  LOVER'S  MISSAL.    With  Portrait 

KIRKE  WHITE'S  POEMS.    With  Portrait 

LYRA  NICOTIANA.    With  Portrait 

AURORA  LEIGH.    With  Portrait  of  E.  B.  Browning. 

NAVAL  SONGS.    With  Portrait  of  Lord  Nelson. 

TENNYSON  :  In  Memoriam,  Maud,  etc.    With  Portrait 

TENNYSON :  English  Idyls,  The  Princess,  etc.     With  View  of 

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JAMES  THOMSON.     With  Portrait 
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COMPANION  SERIES  TO   "THE  MAKERS  OF  BRITISH  ART." 

An  entirely  fresh  and  novel  series  of  literary-musical  illitstrateii  mono- 
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THE 

MUSIC  STORY   SERIES. 

The  great  aim  with  "The  Music  Story  Series"  of  books  will  be  to  make 
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The  following  volumes  are  ready  or  in  course  of  production,  and  will  be 
published  at  short  intervals : — 

THE    STORY    OF    ORATORIO.       By   ANNIE    W.    PATTERSON,    B.A., 

Mus.  Doc. 
THE    STORY    OF   NOTATION.       By    C.    F.    ABDY    WILLIAMS,    M.A., 

Mus.    BaC. 
THE    STORY    OF    THE    PIANOFORTE.        By    ALGERNON    S.    ROSE, 

Author  of  "Talks  with  Bandsmen." 
THE     STORY    OF    HARMONY.       Bv    EUSTACE    J.    BREAKSPEARE, 

Author  of  "Mozart,"   "Musical  ^Esthetics,"  etc. 
THE    STORY    OF    THE    ORGAN.      By  C.  F.  ABDY  WILLIAMS,  Author 

of  "Bach"  and  "Handel"  ("  Ma.ster  Musicians  Series ''). 
THE    STORY    OF    THE    ORCHESTRA.     By  STEWART  MACPHERSON, 

Fellow  and  Professor,  Royal  Academy  of   Music;   Conductor  of  the  West- 
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THE    STORY    OF    CHAMBER    MUSIC.       By  N.   KILBURN,  Mus.  Bac. 

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Musical  Societies. 
THE     STORY     OF     BIBLE     MUSIC.        By    ELEONORE     DESTERRE- 

KEELING,  Author  of  "The  Musicians'  Birthday  Book." 
THE    STORY    OF    THE    VIOLIN.       By  A  PRACTICAL  VIOLINIST. 
THE    STORY    OF    CHURCH    MUSIC.      By  THE  EDITOR. 
ETC.,  ETC.,   ETC. 

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NOW    READY: 

THE    STORY    OF    ORATORIO, 

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THE  WALTER  SCOTT  PUBLISHING  COMPANY,  LTD., 

LONDON   AND   NEWCASTLE-ON-TYNP- 


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