as it rounded out in all its gentleness, unselfishness, sensitiveness, and nobility. The poet has so delicately and strongly treated the young man's loyalty to his companion, that he has immortalized it as one of the famous friendships of literature.

Captain Standish is more of a genuine historical personage than his scholar-friend. He was born in Lancashire, England, in 1584, "a gentleman," says Morton, "and heir apparent unto a great estate of land and livings, surreptitiously detained from him, his grandfather being a second or younger brother from the house of Standish."1 One of his name had

66

been knighted for slaying Wat Tyler, and another, Sir John Standish, had fought at Agincourt in 1415. Young thinks that the captain was a scion of this ancient and warlike stock from his giving the name of Duxbury to the town where he settled, and calling his son Alexander." "

From his subsequent career it is evident that plenty of good warrior blood flowed in his veins. Educated as a soldier, he fought as a lieutenant in the forces sent over by Queen Elizabeth to aid the Dutch against the Spaniards. During the truce he attached himself to Robinson and his congregation, though he never became a member of the church. Liking their principles, or perhaps through mere love of adventure, he accompanied them to America as their military leader.

66

There is frequent mention of him in the Plymouth chronicles. He is described as a man of small stature, but of such an active and daring spirit that he spread terror through all the Indian tribes. His little army of sixteen men, which had been drilled into a perfect fighting machine, was able to defeat twenty times their number of savages. Their captain's daring, skill in dealing with the natives, and his promptness in suppressing their conspiracies is shown in an expedition against the Massachusetts in 1623. Longfellow works the

1 New England's Memorial, p. 262.

2 Young's Chronicles, chap. ix., p. 126.

incident into his poem finely. "The governor, on receiving this intelligence," says Holmes, "which was confirmed by other evidences, ordered Standish to take with him as many men as he should judge sufficient, and, if a plot should be discovered, to fall on the conspirators. Standish, with eight men, sailed to the Massachusetts, where the natives, suspecting his design, insulted and threatened him. Watching his opportunity, when four of them, Wittuwamet, Pecksuot, another Indian, and a youth of eighteen, brother of Wittuwamet, and about as many of his own men, were in the same room, he gave a signal to his men; the door was instantly shut; and snatching the knife of Pecksuot from his neck, he killed him with it, after a violent struggle; his party killed Wittuwamet, and the other Indian, and hung the youth. Proceeding to another place, Standish killed an Indian; and afterwards had a skirmish with a party of Indians, which he put to flight. Weston's men also killed two Indians. Standish, with that generosity which characterizes true bravery, released the Indian women, without taking their beaver coats, or allowing the least incivility to be offered to them."'

The military training of Captain Standish was invaluable at a time when fighting was necessary to existence. But he knew how to do other things as well. Another and equally admirable side of the little soldier appears in Governor Bradford's narrative of "the terrible winter" already referred to. When all but seven of the settlers were ill, "a rare example and worthy to be remembered were Mr. William Brewster, their reverent elder, and Myles Standish, their captain and military commander, unto whom myself, and many others were much beholden in our low and sick condition; and yet the Lord so upheld these persons, as in this general calamity they were not at all infected either with sickness or lameness." Elsewhere we are given particulars of how these men "spared no pains, night nor day, but with abundance of toil

1 Annals of America, p. 181.

and hazard of their own health, fetched them wood, made them fires, dressed them meat, made their beds, washed their loathsome clothes, clothed and unclothed them."" Miles Standish performed for his friends and brethren all of these homely and necessary offices willingly and cheerfully without any grudging. One of the deaths was that of his wife, Rose Standish, who came over in the "Mayflower." His second wife was Barbara (family name unknown), an orphan sister of Rose. She was left behind in England, but reached Plymouth afterwards in the "Fortune." They had six children, and many of their descendants are now living. In 1625 he was selected as agent of the colony to make a settlement with the company in London, and negotiated the loan mentioned above. He was one of the proprietors and first settlers of Duxbury, where he served as magistrate for the rest of his

In 1649 he assisted in the settlement of Bridgewater. He died on October 3, 1656, leaving a name, like that of Captain John Smith of Virginia, forever enrolled in the history of his country. At Duxbury there has been erected in his honor a lofty stone shaft surmounted by a bronze statue.

II. STUDY OF THE POEM.

§ 4. Its Form and Structure.

One of the first things to do in studying a piece of literature is to determine its form. Is it prose or poetry? If the latter, is its structure dramatic, lyric, or narrative? In case it belongs to the last named class, we examine it further to see whether it is an epic, an allegory, a ballad, a pastoral poem, or a verse-romance. Many of the scenes of "The Courtship," especially in Parts III., VIII., and IX., are pastoral, or idyllic, in their character, but its unity of purpose, its well-ordered plot, its sustained narrative power, its dra

1 Bradford's History of the Plimouth Plantation, Hart reprint, pp. 343, 350.

matic situations, and its picturesque and romantic features will incline us to class it as a verse-romance.

Like its companion poem, "Evangeline," it is a tale of true love whose course does not run smooth, but of which it may be happily said that all's well that ends well. It is less tragic and passionate than the story of the wandering French girl, but in both we breathe the sweet fresh air of the forest. "The Courtship" keeps more on the plane of everyday life, and to that extent is less idealistic and more realistic. One evidence of this is the greater amount of humor in the Puritan poem and the absence of any deep and soul-stirring pathos. The underlying motive of the poem is to be found in the question which Priscilla asks so coyly yet tremulously:

"Why don't you speak for yourself, John ?"

In "Evangeline" the improbable happens, but in "The Courtship" it is the likely, the probable, and the inevitable. Both strike a homely, tender note in the heart, and we are reminded of the sadness as well as the gladness of living. In both are simple lives, deep piety, and unaffected manners, but there is a wide difference in the real character of the people. The Acadians are weak, childlike, emotional; the Puritans, strong, practical, undemonstrative. The former are ready to bubble over with sentiment, and are willing to submit to their fate; the latter are proud, masterful, inclined to brood, and have iron in their blood. We see the racial distinction between the Celt and the Saxon. In the present work Longfellow was among his own people, and more at home, and his touch is surer in detail, he is more humorous, more colloquial. In the revelation of the universal human heart neither poem can claim precedence.

The plot, or chain of events that make up the story, of "The Courtship" is more simple, and more skilfully constructed than that of "Evangeline." It is true, the movement in the former is less complex than in the latter. The

introduction to "The Courtship" is shorter, more dramatic, and puts you more quickly right into the midst of the action.

There is always something in every story to cause the trouble and delay the happy ending. We may call this the exciting force. In our poem it is that two good friends want the same girl. The love of Alden and Standish for Priscilla runs counter to their long friendship, and makes them all unhappy for a time, but the heart and good sense of the girl solve one problem, and the friendship of the rivals stands the test. The contrast between the robust, active soldier and the refined, dreamy scholar is so great that we never seriously expect a tragedy. The author avoids too serious a tone because that would have been out of keeping with his plan. The course of the story is marked by crises. A crisis is some exciting, or dramatic, situation worked up between two or more people, but sometimes a crisis may be in the mental agony or the soul-conflict of one person. The first crisis in this poem is when Standish asks Alden as a friend to do an almost impossible thing; the second is the struggle in Alden's mind between his friendship for the man and his love for the woman. It will be interesting for the pupil to find other crises, and explain the interest of each situation.

66

The entire plot may be divided into two more general movements, which we shall call the complication and the resolution. They bear to each other the relation of cause to effect. The turning-point from one to the other is the most important crisis of the book, and is called the climax. In The Courtship" the climax is placed in the mechanical center of the poem in Part V., where Alden is restrained from sailing away in the "Mayflower" by the love-luring look of Priscilla. Everything goes wrong up to that point; all the difficulties both external and conscientious begin to unravel after that soul-revealing glance by which the girl holds her lover from taking the irrevocable step. Had he taken it, the result would have been tragic, but Longfellow wished this tale,