the Democratic Review. In these some of his best work appeared. "Mogg Megone" and "The Bridal of Pennacook" are Indian tales, chiefly noteworthy for their vivid description of New England scenery. Of the former Whittier did not have a high opinion, and sarcastically described it as "a big Injun strutting about in Walter Scott's plaid," which is not far from the truth. "Cassandra Southwick" is a justly admired ballad founded on the persecution of the Quakers in Massachusetts.

Whittier was intensely democratic in his feelings. He did not believe in the divine right of any class to lord it over their fellow-men. Through all the disguises of toil, poverty, and sin, he recognized the innate worth and natural rights of man. In the poem "Democracy" he says:

In harmony with this broad human sympathy, he wrote a series of poems, unsurpassed of their kind, to which he gave the name of "Songs of Labor." They are intended to show,

"The unsung beauty hid life's common things below."

In these songs the labors of "The Shipbuilders," "The Shoemakers," "The Drovers," "The Fishermen," "The Huskers," and "The Lumbermen," pass before us in idealized form.

Whittier was never married. But little of his poetry is in

spired by love, the master motive of song. Yet there are indications, unmistakable and tender, that his life was not without its romance.

The little poem "In School Days" is too nat

ural and too charming to have been fiction:

And in "

day:

"I hear again thy low replies,

I feel thine arm within my own,

And timidly again uprise

The fringed lids of hazel eyes,
With soft brown tresses overflown.
Ah, memories of sweet summer eves,
Of moonlit wave and willowy way,
Of stars and flowers, and dewy leaves,

And smiles and tones more dear than they."

Like

Whittier does not belong to the bards of doubt. most of the strong singers of the present century, he recognized the divine presence as existent and operative in all things.

His verse is filled with the cheer of hope and courage. In "The Reformer" he says:

It was this faith that sustained him in the midst of detraction, violence, and loss. In "Barclay of Ury," he exclaims:

"Happy he whose inward ear
Angel comfortings can hear
O'er the rabble's laughter;
And while Hatred's fagots burn,
Glimpses through the smoke discern
Of the good hereafter."

For a dozen years Whittier was a regular contributor to the National Era, an organ of the anti-slavery party established in 1847. In this paper appeared some of his most characteristic work, both in poetry and prose. His muse had gained in breadth of thought and sentiment. It was at this time he

wrote:

"I love the old melodious lays Which softly melt the ages through,

The songs of Spenser's golden days,

Arcadian Sidney's silvery phrase,

Sprinkling our noon of time with freshest morning dew."

Among the eighty poems contributed to the National Era, some of those needing special mention are "Tauler," "Burns,” "Kathleen," "Stanzas for the Times," "Trust,' ""A Sabbath Scene," "Calef in Boston," "The Last Walk in Autumn," "Ichabod," and "Maud Muller." They reach the higher levels of song, and give gemlike expression to some noble thought or sentiment. "Ichabod," meaning, as Bible readers will remember, "the glory hath departed," is a dirge over Webster for the compromising spirit shown by him in a speech in 1850. It is full of suppressed power.

"The Last Walk in Autumn" is a beautiful study of New England landscape. It abounds in noble thought, and contains

life-like portraits of Emerson, Bayard Taylor, and Sumner. times, as the poet tells us, he longs for gentler skies and softer air; but after all he prefers the vigor of a colder clime:

"Better to stem with heart and hand

The roaring tide of life, than lie,
Unmindful, on its flowery strand,
Of God's occasions drifting by!
Better with naked nerve to bear

The needles of this goading air,

Than, in the lap of sensual ease, forego

The godlike power to do, the godlike aim to know.”

Among the prose contributions to the National Era was a series of biographical studies, "Bunyan," " Andrew Marvell," "Richard Baxter," and others, entitled "Old Portraits," and

66

Margaret Smith's Journal in the Province of Massachusetts Bay, 1678-9." The latter is a kind of historical novel, written in the antique style belonging to the period it describes. It introduces the leading characters and incidents of the time, and reproduces the old colonial life in a very realistic way.

In 1860 appeared a volume of "Home Ballads, Poems, and Lyrics," which contains a number of notable pieces. "Skipper Ireson's Ride," with its refrain and pathetic conclusion, is well known:

"So with soft relentings and rude excuse,
Half scorn, half pity, they cut him loose,
And gave him a cloak to hide him in,

And left him alone with his shame and sin.

Poor Floyd Ireson, for his hard heart,

Tarred and feathered and carried in a cart

By the women of Marblehead."

In "The Shadow and the Light" the poet seeks an answer to the immemorial problem of evil :

"O, why and whither? - God knows all;

I only know that he is good,

And that whatever may befall

Or here or there, must be the best that could.

For he is merciful as just;

And so, by faith correcting sight,
I bow before his will, and trust

Howe'er they seem he doeth all things right."

In "Times," written for an agricultural and horticultural exhibition, the beauty and blessedness of labor are finely presented :

"Give fools their gold, and knaves their power;

Let fortune's bubbles rise and fall;

Who sows a field, or trains a flower,
Or plants a tree, is more than all.

For he who blesses most is blest;

And God and man shall own his worth
Who toils to leave as his bequest

An added beauty to the earth.”

The Civil War was repugnant to Whittier's Quaker principles. He looked on war as murder; and his preference was to let the South secede, and work out her destiny as a slaveholding country. But he was not an indifferent spectator when once the issue was joined. The collection of songs, "In War Time," is pervaded by a sad yet trustful spirit:

"The future's gain

Is certain as God's truth; but, meanwhile, pain
Is bitter, and tears are salt; our voices take
A sober tone; our very household songs
Are heavy with a nation's griefs and wrongs;
And innocent mirth is chastened for the sake
Of the brave hearts that nevermore shall beat,

The eyes that smile no more, the unreturning feet.'

He rejoiced at the freedom that at last came to the

negro :

"Not as we hoped; - but what are we?

Above our broken dreams and plans
God lays, with wiser hand than man's,
The corner-stones of liberty."