Page images
PDF
EPUB

EDWIN P. WHIPPLE.

THIS distinguished essayist was born in Gloucester, Massachusetts. on the 8th of March, 1819. His father, Matthew Whipple, dying while the son was in his infancy, his widow removed to Salem, and there young Edwin was educated at the English High School. Whes he was but fourteen years of age, he published articles in the news paper press at Salem, and at fifteen became clerk of the Bank of Ge ral Interest in that city. When he was eighteen years of age, he went to Boston, where he entered a large banking-house, as clerk, br was soon after appointed Superintendent of the Merchants' Exchang News Room. Such a position would hardly seem compatible with literary pursuits; and yet but few graduates of any of our colleges have been more distinguished for articles of beautiful, just, and vigorous criticism, in our best reviews, than Mr. Whipple. But besides his influence as a writer, he has appeared before the public, in most of our northern States, as a lecturer of uncommon power and attract iveness; and has often been invited to address the literary societies of various colleges, as Brown, Dartmouth, Amherst, and the New York University. In 1850, the city authorities of Boston elected him to deliver before them the Fourth of July oration. Two collections of his writings have been published by Ticknor & Fields, namely, "Essays and Reviews," in two volumes; and "Lectures on Subjects connected with Literature and Life."

[ocr errors]

An appreciative critic thus remarks upon the character and style of Mr Whipple's writings: "As chief among his mental characteristics, we are disposed to place the rectitude which marks his critical judgments, and which is seen in the patience and thoroughness of his investigation and in the precision of his analysis, not less than in the results at which he arrives. the utmost skill he penetrates to the heart of his subject, and lays it bare fe the inspection of the curious, that they may verify for themselves the er rectness of the views which he presents. Nor does he seem satisfied untu be has done this, and thus given his readers the opportunity of forming ther own opinions. * Closely allied with this quality of mental rectitude s his power of analytical criticism, as shown in his delineations of both inte lectual and moral character. He rarely fails of reaching the prime motive of a man's acts, and the principles which give a direction to his though in his peculiar psychological development. ** Joined with these three prominent characteristics are a strong dislike of every form of literary cant and quackery, a moderate conservatism, a tendency to philosophical genera zation, and a ready and sympathizing perception of beauty in the works f others. ✶ ✶ Such are the leading features in Mr. Whipple's mental eganization; and from them we might infer pretty nearly the character of his style. While it is clear and vigorous, it is at the same time easy and graceful; never dull or verbose, but concise and brilliant;-in short, a perteet

THE POWER OF WORDS.

Words are most effective when arranged in that order which is called style. The great secret of a good style, we are told, is to have proper words in proper places. To marshal one's verbal battalions in such order that they may bear at once upon all quarters of a subject, is certainly a great art. This is done in different ways. Swift, Temple, Addison, Hume, Gibbon, Johnson, Burke, are all great generals in the discipline of their verbal armies, and the conduct of their paper wars. Each has

a system of tactics of his own, and excels in the use of some particular weapon. The tread of Johnson's style is heavy and sonorous, resembling that of an elephant or a mail-clad warrior. He is fond of levelling an obstacle by a polysyllabic batteringram. Burke's words are continually practising the broadsword exercise, and sweeping down adversaries with every stroke. Arbuthnot "plays his weapon like a tongue of flame." Addison draws up his light infantry in orderly array, and marches through sentence after sentence without having his ranks disordered or his line broken. Luther is different. His words are "half battle;" "his smiting idiomatic phrases seem to cleave into the very secret of the matter." Gibbon's legions are heavily armed, and march with precision and dignity to the music of their own tramp. They are splendidly equipped, but a nice eye can discern a little rust beneath their fine apparel, and there are suttlers in his camp who lie, cog, and talk gross obscenity. Macaulay, brisk, lively, keen, and energetic, runs his thoughts rapidly through his sentence, and kicks out of the way every word which obstructs his passage. He reins in his steed only when he has reached his goal, and then does it with such celerity that he is nearly thrown backwards by the suddenness of his stoppage. Gifford's words are mosstroopers, that waylay innocent travellers and murder them for hire. Jeffrey is a fine "lance," with a sort of Arab swiftness in his movement, and runs an iron-clad horseman through the eye before he has had time to close his helmet. John Wilson's camp is a disorganized mass, who might do effectual service

reflection of his mind, which has undoubtedly been formed in the school of the old English writers. His long practice and a careful study of those writers have given him great power and fluency of expression, and a remarkable facility in adapting his style to the varied wants of his subject."Christian Examiner, xlvi. 190.

under better discipline, but who, under his lead, are suffered to carry on a rambling and predatory warfare, and disgrace their general by flagitious excesses. Sometimes they steal, some times swear, sometimes drink, and sometimes pray. Swift's words are porcupine's quills, which he throws with unerring aim at whoever approaches his lair. All of Ebenezer Elliot's words are gifted with huge fists, to pummel and bruise. Chatham and Mirabeau throw hot shot into their opponents magazines. Talfourd's forces are orderly and disciplined, and march to the music of the Dorian flute; those of Keats keep time to the tones of the pipe of Phoebus; and the hard, harsafeatured battalions of Maginn are always preceded by a brass band. Hallam's word-infantry can do much execution when they are not in each other's way. Pope's phrases are either daggers or rapiers. Willis's words are often tipsy with the champagne of the fancy, but even when they reel and stagger they keep the line of grace and beauty, and, though scattered at first by a fierce onset from graver cohorts, soon reunite without wound or loss. John Neal's forces are multitudinous, and fire briskly at everything. They occupy all the provinces of letters, and are nearly useless from being spread over too much ground. Everett's weapons are ever kept in good order, and shine well in the sun, but they are little calculated for warfare, and rarely kill when they strike. Webster's words are thunderbolts, which sometimes miss the Titans at whom they are hurled, but always leave enduring marks when they strike. Hazlitt's verbal army is sometimes drunk and surly, sometimes foaming with passion, sometimes cool and malig nant, but, drunk or sober, are ever dangerous to cope with. Some of Tom Moore's words are shining dirt, which he filings with excellent aim. This list might be indefinitely extended, and arranged with more regard to merit and chronology. My own words, in this connection, might be compared to ragged, undisciplined militia, which could be easily routed by a charge of horse, and which are apt to fire into each other's faces.

WIT AND HUMOR.

Wit was originally a general name for all the intellectual powers, meaning the faculty which kens, perceives, knows, understands; it was gradually narrowed in its signification to express merely the resemblance between ideas; and lastly, to note that resemblance when it occasioned ludicrous surprise.

It marries ideas, lying wide apart, by a sudden jerk of the understanding. Humor originally meant moisture, a signification it metaphorically retains, for it is the very juice of the mind, oozing from the brain, and enriching and fertilizing wherever it falls. Wit exists by antipathy; humor by sympathy. Wit laughs at things; humor laughs with them. Wit lashes external appearances, or cunningly exaggerates single foibles into character; humor glides into the heart of its object, looks lovingly on the infirmities it detects, and represents the whole man. Wit is abrupt, darting, scornful, and tosses its analogies in your face; humor is slow and shy, insinuating its fun into your heart. Wit is negative, analytical, destructive; humor is creative. The couplets of Pope are witty, but Sancho Panza is a humorous creation. Wit, when earnest, has the earnestness of passion, seeking to destroy; humor has the earnestness of affection, and would lift up what is seemingly low, into our charity and love. Wit, bright, rapid, and blasting as the lightning, flashes, strikes, and vanishes in an instant; humor, warm and all-embracing as the sunshine, bathes its objects in a genial and abiding light. Wit implies hatred or contempt of folly and crime, produces its effects by brisk shocks of surprise, uses the whip of scorpions and the branding-iron -stabs, stings, pinches, tortures, goads, teases, corrodes, undermines; humor implies a sure conception of the beautiful, the majestic, and the true, by whose light it surveys and shapes. their opposites. It is a humane influence, softening with mirth the ragged inequalities of existence-promoting tolerant views of life-bridging over the spaces which separate the lofty from the lowly, the great from the humble. Old Dr. Fuller's remark, that a negro is "the image of God cut in ebony," is humorous; Horace Smith's inversion of it, that the taskmaster is "the image of the devil cut in ivory," is witty. Wit can coexist with fierce and malignant passions; but humor demands good feeling and fellow-feeling-feeling not merely for what is above us, but for what is around and beneath us.

NEED OF A NATIONAL LITERATURE.

In order that America may take its due rank in the commonwealth of nations, a literature is needed which shall be the exponent of its higher life. We live in times of turbulence and change. There is a general dissatisfaction, manifesting itself often in rude contests and ruder speech, with the gulf which

separates principles from actions. Men are struggling to realize dim ideals of right and truth, and each failure adds to the desperate earnestness of their efforts. Beneath all the shrewdness and selfishness of the American character, there is a smouldering enthusiasm which flames out at the first touch of fire, sometimes at the hot and hasty words of party, and sometimes at the bidding of great thoughts and unselfs principles. The heart of the nation is easily stirred to its depths; but those who rouse its fiery impulses into action are often men compounded of ignorance and wickedness, and wholly unfitted to guide the passions which they are able to excite. There is no country in the world which has nobler ideas embodied in more worthless shapes. All our factions, fanaticisms, reforms, parties, creeds, ridiculous or dangerous though they often appear, are founded on some aspiration or reality which deserves a better form and expression. There is a mighty power in great speech. If the sources of what we call our fooleries and faults were rightly addressed, they would echo more majestic and kindling truths. We want a poetry which shall speak in clear, loud tones to the people; a poetry which shall make us more in love with our native land by converting its ennobling scenery into the images of lofty thoughts; which shall give visible form and life to the abstract ideas of our written constitutions; which shall confer upon virtue a the strength of principle, and all the energy of passion; which shall disentangle freedom from cant and senseless hyperbole, and render it a thing of such loveliness and grandeur as to justify all self-sacrifice; which shall make us love man by the new consecrations it sheds on his life and destiny; which sha'! force through the thin partitions of conventionalism and expediency, vindicate the majesty of reason, give new power to the voice of conscience, and new vitality to human affection, soften and elevate passion, guide enthusiasm in a right direction, and speak out in the high language of men to a nation of men.

MRS. SARAH G. LIPPINCOTT.

THIS gifted writer, who has won such an enviable reputation around the hearth-stones of this country, under the name of "Grace Greenwood," was born in Pompey, Onondaga County, N. Y. Her maiden

« PreviousContinue »