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Aeschylus (search for this): chapter 12
appily, this is not so difficult as one might suppose. It often takes a great while to determine the comparative merit of authors,— indeed, the newspapers are just now saying that the late Mr. Tupper had a larger income from the sales of his works than Browning, Tennyson, and Lowell jointly received,—but it does not take so long to determine which among an author's works are the best; and it is probable that the Descent of Neptune in the Iliad, and the Vision of Helen in the Agamemnon of Aeschylus, and Sappho's famous ode, and the Birds of Aristophanes, and the Hylas of Theocritus, and the Sparrow of Catullus, and the De Arte Poetica of Horace were early recognized as being the same distinct masterpieces that we now find them. It is the tradition that an empress wept when Virgil recited his Tu Marcellus eris; and it still remains the one passage in the Aeneid that calls tears to the eye. After all, contemporary criticism is less trivial than we think. Philosophers, says Novalis, a
Neptune (search for this): chapter 12
e physicians name viability —the capacity to keep itself alive. Happily, this is not so difficult as one might suppose. It often takes a great while to determine the comparative merit of authors,— indeed, the newspapers are just now saying that the late Mr. Tupper had a larger income from the sales of his works than Browning, Tennyson, and Lowell jointly received,—but it does not take so long to determine which among an author's works are the best; and it is probable that the Descent of Neptune in the Iliad, and the Vision of Helen in the Agamemnon of Aeschylus, and Sappho's famous ode, and the Birds of Aristophanes, and the Hylas of Theocritus, and the Sparrow of Catullus, and the De Arte Poetica of Horace were early recognized as being the same distinct masterpieces that we now find them. It is the tradition that an empress wept when Virgil recited his Tu Marcellus eris; and it still remains the one passage in the Aeneid that calls tears to the eye. After all, contemporary cri<
Aristophanes (search for this): chapter 12
It often takes a great while to determine the comparative merit of authors,— indeed, the newspapers are just now saying that the late Mr. Tupper had a larger income from the sales of his works than Browning, Tennyson, and Lowell jointly received,—but it does not take so long to determine which among an author's works are the best; and it is probable that the Descent of Neptune in the Iliad, and the Vision of Helen in the Agamemnon of Aeschylus, and Sappho's famous ode, and the Birds of Aristophanes, and the Hylas of Theocritus, and the Sparrow of Catullus, and the De Arte Poetica of Horace were early recognized as being the same distinct masterpieces that we now find them. It is the tradition that an empress wept when Virgil recited his Tu Marcellus eris; and it still remains the one passage in the Aeneid that calls tears to the eye. After all, contemporary criticism is less trivial than we think. Philosophers, says Novalis, are the eternal Nile-gauges of a tide that has passed aw
T. B. Aldrich (search for this): chapter 12
thful story, Sir Rohan's Ghost, originally appeared, Lowell selected from it with strong admiration, in the Atlantic Monthly, the song, In a Summer Evening; and it still remains the most unequivocal product of her rare but unequal genius. The late Helen Jackson placed the poem called Spinning at the head of her volume of Verses, not because it was that which touched the greatest depths, but because it seemed to be universally accepted as her fullest, maturest, and most thoughtful product. Aldrich's noble Fredericksburg sonnet, in a somewhat similar way, stands out by itself; it seems to differ in kind rather than degree from the airy rhyme of which he is wont to be the enamored architect; its texture is so firm, its cadence so grand, that it seems more and more likely to rank as being, next to Lowell's Ode, the most remarkable poem called out by the Civil War. It is such writing as Keats pronounced to be next to fine doing, the top thing in the universe; and we must not forget that
Wolfe (search for this): chapter 12
's noble Fredericksburg sonnet, in a somewhat similar way, stands out by itself; it seems to differ in kind rather than degree from the airy rhyme of which he is wont to be the enamored architect; its texture is so firm, its cadence so grand, that it seems more and more likely to rank as being, next to Lowell's Ode, the most remarkable poem called out by the Civil War. It is such writing as Keats pronounced to be next to fine doing, the top thing in the universe; and we must not forget that Wolfe, before Quebec, pronounced fine writing to be the greater thing of the two. The crowning instances of high-water marks are in those poems which, like Blanco White's sonnet, alone bear the writer's name down to posterity. How completely the truculent Poe fancied that he had extinguished for all time the poetry of my gifted and wayward kinsman, Ellery Channing; and yet it is not at all certain that the one closing line of Channing's A Poet's Hope, — If my bark sinks, 'tis to another sea, m
Brownlee Brown (search for this): chapter 12
on's fine poem, Bugle Notes, beginning,— Sweet-voiced Hope, thy fine discourse Foretold not half Life's good to me, will be, unless I greatly mistake, as lasting as the seventeenth-century poems among which it naturally ranks. The mere title, Some Lover's Clear Day, of Weiss's poem will endure, perhaps, after the verses themselves and all else connected with that unique and wayward personality are forgotten. It is many years since I myself wrote of that rare and unappreciated thinker, Brownlee Brown; and he is less known now than he was then; yet his poem on Immortality, preserved by Stedman and Hutchinson, is so magnificent that it cheapens most of its contemporary literature, and seems alone worth a life otherwise obscure. It is founded on Xenophon's well-known story of the soldiers of Cyrus's expedition. As soon as the men who were in the vanguard had climbed the hill and beheld the sea, they gave a great shout . . . crying qa/latta! qa/latta! The Cry of the ten thousand. I
Ellen M. Hutchinson (search for this): chapter 12
ming nearest to a regularity of rhythm. The praise generally bestowed on the admirable selections in the Library of American Literature, by Mr. Stedman and Miss Hutchinson, is a proof that there is a certain consensus of opinion on this subject. Had they left out Austin's Peter Rugg, or Hale's A Man Without a Country, there wou with that unsurpassed poetic symbol of hopeless remoteness— As the pearl in the depths of the sea From the portionless king who would wear it. In the case of Miss Hutchinson, her exquisite little poem of The Moth-Song will be equally unmistakable. When Harriet Prescott Spofford's first youthful story, Sir Rohan's Ghost, originallf wrote of that rare and unappreciated thinker, Brownlee Brown; and he is less known now than he was then; yet his poem on Immortality, preserved by Stedman and Hutchinson, is so magnificent that it cheapens most of its contemporary literature, and seems alone worth a life otherwise obscure. It is founded on Xenophon's well-known
Walt Whitman (search for this): chapter 12
d Howe by her Battle Hymn of the Republic. It is, perhaps, characteristic of the even and well-distributed muse of Whittier that it is less easy to select his high-water mark; but perhaps My Playmate comes as near to it as anything. Bryant's Waterfowl is easily selected, and so is Longfellow's Wreck of the Hesperus, as conveying more sense of shaping imagination than any other, while Evangeline would, of course, command the majority of votes among his longer poems. In some cases, as in Whitman's My Captain, the high-water mark may have been attained precisely at the moment when the poet departed from his theory and confined himself most nearly to the laws he was wont to spurn—in this case, by coming nearest to a regularity of rhythm. The praise generally bestowed on the admirable selections in the Library of American Literature, by Mr. Stedman and Miss Hutchinson, is a proof that there is a certain consensus of opinion on this subject. Had they left out Austin's Peter Rugg, o
J. R. Lowell (search for this): chapter 12
are just now saying that the late Mr. Tupper had a larger income from the sales of his works than Browning, Tennyson, and Lowell jointly received,—but it does not take so long to determine which among an author's works are the best; and it is probabl Holmes should read the latter of these two poems, though he is still permitted to add the former. From the moment when Lowell read his Commemoration Ode at Cambridge, that great poem took for him the same position; while out of any hundred critics be equally unmistakable. When Harriet Prescott Spofford's first youthful story, Sir Rohan's Ghost, originally appeared, Lowell selected from it with strong admiration, in the Atlantic Monthly, the song, In a Summer Evening; and it still remains theed architect; its texture is so firm, its cadence so grand, that it seems more and more likely to rank as being, next to Lowell's Ode, the most remarkable poem called out by the Civil War. It is such writing as Keats pronounced to be next to fine do
R. W. Emerson (search for this): chapter 12
ce unequivocally as his high-water mark. At every author's reading it is the crowning desire that Holmes should read the latter of these two poems, though he is still permitted to add the former. From the moment when Lowell read his Commemoration Ode at Cambridge, that great poem took for him the same position; while out of any hundred critics ninety-nine would place the Day in June as the best of his shorter passages, and the Bigelow Papers, of course, stand collectively for his humor. Emerson's The Problem—containing the only verses by a living author hung up for contemplation in Westminster Abbey—still stands as the highwater mark of his genius, although possibly, so great is the advantage possessed by a shorter poem, it may be superseded at last by his Daughters of Time. No one doubts that Bayard Taylor will go down to fame, if at all, by his brief Legend of Balaklava, and Julia Ward Howe by her Battle Hymn of the Republic. It is, perhaps, characteristic of the even and well
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