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BALDWIN'S BIOGRAPHICAL BOOKLETS 
 
 THE STORY 
 
 OF 
 
 WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 
 
 FOR YOUNG READERS 
 
 BY 
 
 SHERWIN CODY 
 
 WERNER SCHOOL BOOK COMPANY 
 NEW YORK CHICAGO BOSTON 
 
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W0 «>0P| ES 
 
 Baldwin's Biographical Booklet Series. 
 
 Biographical Stories of Great Americans 
 for Young Americans 
 
 EDITED BY 
 
 James Baldwin, Ph.D. 
 
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 The Story of William Cullen Bryant 
 The Story of Henry W. Longfellow 
 -The Story of John Greenleaf Whittier 
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 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. The Love of Nature ..... 5 
 
 <> 
 
 
 II. Bryant's Childhood ..... 10 
 
 III. What the Boys did when Bryant was Young 15 
 
 IV. The Young Poet . ... 19 
 V. Thanatopsis ...... 24 
 
 VI. Bryant Becomes a Lawyer . . . 29 
 
 VII. A Literary Adventurer ... 33 
 
 VIII. The Editor of a Great Newspaper . . 36 
 
 I X. How Bryant Became Rich ... 42 
 
 X. Bryant as an Orator and Prose Writer . 45 
 
 XI. Other Events in Bryant's Life . . 50 
 
 XII. Honors to the Great Poet . . . .57 
 
 XIII. Learning to Love a Poet 61 
 
 A 
 
 A* _ -; f 
 
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 
 
BRYANT 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE LOVE OF NATURE 
 
 Do you know what is meant by "the love of 
 Nature"? Yes? But are you quite sure? Think 
 a little. It is not an easy thing to understand, and 
 many older people than you do not know what it 
 means. 
 
 Bryant was the great American poet of Nature. 
 His poetry is best understood and enjoyed by 
 those who have first learned to love Nature as 
 he loved her. To all such it appears to be very 
 simple and grand. 
 
 In order that we may come by easy steps to a 
 true appreciation of Bryant's poetry, let us take a 
 lesson in the love of Nature. 
 
 ' ' Man made the city, God made the country, " 
 
is the old saving. Look at the long rows of city 
 houses: how ugly they are! How dirty are the 
 streets, from which on windy days clouds of dust 
 sometimes rise and almost choke you as you walk 
 along! Even the sky above is not often clear and 
 blue as it ought to be, but it seems filthy with 
 smoke and soot. And what sounds you hear! 
 The noise of the cars as they buzz and jar 
 along the street, the monotonous roar of human 
 traffic, and the rough words of teamsters and 
 hackmen as they try to crowd by one another 
 — all these grate upon the sensitive ear. 
 
 How different is everything in the country! 
 What a clear, brilliant blue the sky is; and what a 
 vast variety of color the surface of the earth 
 presents! 
 
 Here is the light, fresh green of the grass, 
 and over there are the darker greens of the 
 pines and cedars. In the autumn we observe 
 the gorgeous hues of the maples and the 
 oaks as their leaves change with the frost 
 from green to crimson and gold. Think, too, of 
 the flowers! Here are fields white with daisies, 
 
and there are other fields filled with yellow butter- 
 cups or red clover blossoms! Farther away are 
 fields of the graceful, slender-stalked wheat, or of 
 the tall, rustling corn! 
 
 Have you ever been in the woods in June? In- 
 stead of the harsh sounds of the stre ts you 
 hear the tumultuous but harmonious songs of 
 birds ; instead of the steady roar of traffic, 
 you hear the deep note of the wind through 
 the trees, or the murmur of a little brook flowing 
 over stones or dashing down a waterfall. All 
 around you the trees rise, like columns in a cathe- 
 dral, but more beautiful and majestic; and the air 
 is filled with a sweet scent fit to be used for 
 incense in the churches. *** 
 
 Xow read what Brvant has to say in his "In- 
 scription for the Entrance to a Wood." There are 
 many hard words in it, and you must read very 
 carefully and thoughtfully; but it will make you 
 feel that on entering such a wood you are indeed 
 going into God's own natural church, a place e 
 more magnificent and wonderful than Solomon's 
 
 mple: 
 
 lc 
 
8 
 
 Stranger, if thou hast learned a truth which needs 
 
 No school of long experience, that the world 
 
 Is full of guilt and misery, and hast seen 
 
 Enough of all its sorrows, crimes, and cares 
 
 To tire thee of it, enter this wild wood 
 
 And view the haunts of Nature. The calm shade 
 
 Shall bring a kindred calm, and the sweet breeze 
 
 That makes the green leaves dance, shall waft a balm 
 
 To thy sick heart. Thou wilt find nothing here 
 
 Of all that pained thee in the haunts of men, 
 
 And made thee loathe thy life. The primal curse 
 
 Fell, it is true, upon the unsinning earth, 
 
 But not in vengeance. God hath yoked to guilt 
 
 Her pale tormentor, misery. Hence these shades 
 
 Are still the abodes of gladness; the thick roof 
 
 Of green and stirring branches is alive 
 
 And musical with birds, that sing and sport 
 
 In wantonness of spirit ; while below, 
 
 The squirrel, with raised paws and form erect, 
 
 Chirps merrily. Throngs of insects in the shade 
 
 Try their thin wings and dance in the warm beam 
 
 That waked them into life. Even the green trees 
 
 Partake the deep contentment ; as they bend 
 
 To the soft winds, the sun from the blue sky 
 
 Looks in and sheds a blessing on the scene. 
 
 Scarce less the cleft-born wild-flower seems to enjoy 
 
Existence, than the winged plunderer 
 
 That sticks its sweets. The mossy rocks themselves, 
 
 And the old and ponderous trunks of prostrate trees 
 
 That lead from knoll to knoll a causey rude 
 
 Or bridge the sunken brook, and their dark roots, 
 
 With all their earth upon them, twisting high, 
 
 Breathe fixed tranquillity. The rivulet 
 
 Sends forth glad sounds, and tripping o'er its bed 
 
 Of pebbly sands, or leaping down the rocks, 
 
 Seems, with continuous laughter, to rejoice 
 
 In its own being. Softly tread the marge, 
 
 Lest from her midway perch thou scare the wren 
 
 That dips her bill in water. The cool wind 
 
 That stirs the stream in play, shall come to thee, 
 
 Like one that loves thee, nor let thee pass 
 
 Ungreeted, and shall give its light embrace.* 
 
 This is one of the hardest things in Bryant's 
 poetry. When you can see all its beauties, and 
 take pleasure in reading it, you will have learned 
 to love both Nature and Nature's poet-priest. 
 
 *To help in the mastery of this poem, the student is advised to make 
 a careful list of all the natural objects mentioned in it, such as birds, 
 brooks, trees, and flowers, and try to recollect having seen something 
 of the same sort. 
 
IO 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 BRYANTS CHILDHOOD 
 
 Bryant was the first great American poet, having 
 been born fourteen years before Longfellow. Like 
 Longfellow, he could trace his descent (on his 
 mother's side) from John Alden and Priscilla Mul- 
 lens, who came over in the Mayflower; and through 
 two other branches he was descended from Pilgrim 
 stock. The first Bryant in America did not come 
 in the Mayflower > but he was in Plymouth in 1632, 
 and was chosen town constable in 1663. 
 
 The poet's father and grandfather were both 
 doctors ; so when Dr. Peter Bryant was married to 
 ' < sweet Sallie Snell, " as the poet has it, and their 
 second child was born, the good doctor named 
 him William Cullen, after a great medical authority 
 who had died four years before. This happy 
 event — that is, the birth of William Cullen Bryant 
 — occurred November 3, 1794, in the small town 
 of Cummington, Massachusetts. But instead of 
 growing up to be a doctor the boy became a poet, 
 and his father was rather proud of the fact, too. 
 
II 
 
 Cummington is a small town among the Berk- 
 shire hills, in the western part of Massachusetts. 
 The country around it is mountainous, with wide 
 valleys which in the early days were very fertile. 
 Bryant's grandfather, Snell, had come here in 
 1774, just before the Revolution, with a handful of 
 other settlers, to take up a homestead. There is a 
 story that Eben Snell, Jr., an uncle of the poet, 
 while working in the cornfield put his ear to the 
 ground and heard the sounds of the distant battle 
 of Bunker Hill. 
 
 Little William Cullen was very quick and 
 bright, though puny. In his autobiography he 
 says he could go alone when he was but a year 
 old, and knew all the letters of the alphabet 
 four months later. His older brother, Austin, did 
 even better than this, however; for he began to 
 r read the Bible before he was three years old, and 
 in just about a year from the time he began, he had 
 read it all through, from Genesis to Revelation. 
 William Cullen as a small child learned many of 
 Watts's hymns, and used to recite them as he 
 stood by his mother's knee. 
 
12 
 
 It is probable that so much study was not good 
 for him, for he suffered from terrible headaches, 
 and was so puny his father and mother thought 
 he would not live long. His head seemed to 
 be too big for his body. There is a story that 
 some medical students, who were studying in 
 Dr. Bryant's office when William was a child, 
 were ordered to give him a cold bath every morn- 
 ing in a spring near the house. They kept this 
 up so late in the fall that they had to break the 
 first skim of ice on the top of the water. The 
 treatment cured him, and after he was fourteen, 
 he says, he never had a headache in his life. 
 
 He began to go to school before he was four years 
 old. It was not unnatural that a little fellow of 
 that age should get sleepy during school hours. 
 One day he woke from a sound nap to find him- 
 self in his teacher's lap. When he realized where 
 he was he became furiously angry at the thought 
 that he should be treated so like a baby. 
 
 About this time, too, he was kicked by a horse. 
 A lady had come to call on his mother, and had 
 tied her horse to a tree near the door. There were 
 
13 
 
 fresh chips scattered about, and William and his 
 elder brother amused themselves by throwing them 
 at the horse's heels to make him caper. William 
 got too near and at last the horse kicked him over. 
 He soon recovered, and went to school with a 
 bandaged head, but a scar from the wound on his 
 head he carried to the day of his death. 
 
 When he was five years old, the family went to 
 live on Grandfather Snell's old homestead, where 
 Dr. Peter Bryant remained as long as he lived. 
 Years afterward, when the poet became rich, he 
 bought this place for a country home. 
 
 He began now to go regularly to the district 
 school, where he learned reading, writing, and 
 arithmetic, a little grammar and geography, and 
 the Westminster Catechism. He was a fine 
 speller, seldom missing a word, and he got on well 
 in geography. The catechism, however, did not 
 interest him and he could not understand it. 
 
 Those were very strict Puritanic days. Says 
 Bryant, in his autobiography: " One of the means 
 of keeping boys in order was a little bundle of 
 birchen rods, bound together with a small cord, 
 
14 
 
 and generally suspended on a nail against the 
 kitchen wall. This was esteemed as much a part 
 of the necessary furniture as the crane that hung 
 in the kitchen fireplace, or the shovel and tongs." 
 And he tells us that sometimes the boy was sent 
 out to cut the twigs with which he himself was to 
 be whipped. 
 
 Not only was whipping thought to be good for 
 boys, but even grown-up people were whipped in 
 public for petty crimes. 
 
 About a mile from the Bryant home was a 
 public whipping-post. Says the poet: "I remember 
 seeing a young fellow, of about eighteen years of 
 age, upon whose back, by direction of a justice of 
 the peace, forty lashes had just been laid, as the 
 punishment for a theft which he had committed. 
 His eyes were red, like those of one who had been 
 crying, and I well remember the feeling of curios- 
 ity, mingled with pity and fear, with which I gazed 
 on him." 
 
 This was the last time the whipping-post was 
 used in that neighborhood, but it stood there for 
 several years longer. 
 
15 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 WHAT THE BOYS DID WHEN BRYANT WAS YOUNG 
 
 Life in the time of Bryant's boyhood was rather 
 hard and rough. New England country life was 
 never easy. The chairs were very straight-backed, 
 the beds were hard, and the food was not very 
 delicate, though there was always plenty of it — 
 plenty of pork and beans, if nothing else. For all 
 that, the boys in Bryant's day had a very good 
 time, which he tells about in the account of his 
 early life to which we have already referred. 
 
 Among the pleasant occurrences of those old- 
 fashioned times were the neighborhood ' ' raisings. " 
 When a man intended to build a house he got 
 all the big, heavy timbers together for the frame, 
 and then called in the neighbors to help him put 
 them up. The minister always made a point of 
 being present; and the young men thought it great 
 sport, as did the boys, who could only look on. ' ' It 
 was a spectacle for us," says Bryant, "next to that 
 of a performer on the tight-rope, to see the young 
 men walk steadily on the narrow footing of the 
 
i6 
 
 beams at a great height from the ground, or as 
 they stood to catch in their hands the wooden pins 
 and the braces flung to them from below. Each 
 tried to outdo the other in daring, and when the 
 frame was all up, one of them would usually cap the 
 climax by standing on his head on the ridge-pole. " 
 
 Another good time was had at the maple sugar 
 frolic. In spring, when the sap begins to come 
 up in the maple trees, men go about, and bore two 
 or three holes in every maple tree in a sugar 
 camp. In these they stick little spigots with holes 
 through them, and underneath they set a pail to 
 catch the sap. Soon it begins to drop. When the 
 pails are filled, the men bring fresh ones, and carry 
 off the sap to an enormous iron kettle hung on a 
 pole over a hot fire. 
 
 ''From my father's door," says Bryant, "in the 
 latter part of March and the early part of April, 
 we could see a dozen columns of smoke rising over 
 the woods in different places, where the work was 
 going on. After the sap had been collected and 
 boiled for three or four days, the time came when 
 the thickening liquid was made to pass into the 
 
i7 
 
 form of sugar. This was when the syrup had be- 
 come of such a consistency that it would feather — 
 that is to say, when a beechen twig, formed at the 
 small end into a little loop, dipped into the hot 
 syrup and blown upon by the breath, sent into the 
 air a light, feathery film." The syrup was then 
 lifted off and poured into moulds, or else stirred 
 rapidly until cooled, when it became delicious brown 
 sugar in loose grains. The boys had a great deal 
 of fun " trying" the syrup to see if it was ready to 
 "sugar off." 
 
 Then there were husking-bees and apple-parings 
 and cider-making ; and in the winter all the young 
 people went to singing school. 
 
 Bryant in his boyhood was also fond of fishing 
 for trout in the small streams, where there were 
 plenty of fish to catch. Another sport was squirrel 
 shooting. The young men would divide into two 
 equal parties and see which party could shoot the 
 most squirrels. 
 
 Of course, in those days everybody went to 
 church. Young Bryant began when he was only 
 three years old. History does not say how he 
 
i8 
 
 behaved, but there was not much chance to be 
 naughty in church in those times. Every parish 
 had its tithing man, whose business it was to 
 maintain order in the church during divine serv- 
 ice, and who sat with a stern countenance through 
 the sermon, keeping a vigilant eye on the boys in 
 distant pews and in the galleries. Sometimes 
 when he detected two of them communicating 
 with each other, he went to one of them, took him 
 by the arm, and leading him away, seated him 
 beside himself. He was also directed by law to see 
 that the Sabbath was not profaned by people 
 wandering in the fields or fishing in the brooks. 
 
 When he was eight years old, young Cullen 
 began to make poetry. His grandfather thought 
 him rather bright at this, and a year or two later 
 asked him to turn the first chapter of the Book 
 of Job into verse. He did it all. Here are two 
 sample lines : 
 
 His" name was Job, evil he did eschew. 
 
 To him were born seven sons ; three daughters, too. 
 
 For this he received a ninepenny piece, though 
 his father thought the lines rather bad. 
 
19 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE YOUNG POET 
 
 Bryant's poetic career began when he was twelve 
 years old. Besides some "Enigmas" and a trans- 
 lation from the Latin of Horace, he made a copy 
 of verses to be recited at the close of the winter 
 school, ' ' in the presence of the master, the minis- 
 ter of the parish, and a number of private gentle- 
 men." The verses were printed in the Hamp- 
 shire Gazette, March 18, 1806, the year before 
 Longfellow was born. This same newspaper 
 had other contributions also from the pen of 
 "C. B." 
 
 Dr. Peter Bryant was something of a politician. 
 He was several times a representative in the 
 Massachusetts legislature, and finally a senator. 
 He • belonged to the Federal party, which corre- 
 sponds to the present Republican party. Jefferson 
 was president, and in 1807 he laid an embargo on 
 shipping. This stopped all commerce and brought 
 on severe hard times, at which all the members of 
 the party opposed to Jefferson were very indignant. 
 
20 
 
 Dr. Bryant thought his young son might write a 
 satirical poem about it. So ' ' The Embargo ; or, 
 Sketches of the Times," was written and printed 
 in a volume. There was a line on the title page 
 saying the poem was written by ' ' a youth of thir- 
 teen. " One of the great periodicals of that time, 
 called the Anthology, reviewed the book, and while 
 speaking well of it, said it seemed impossible that 
 such a poem had been written by a "youth of 
 thirteen." So when the first edition was sold and 
 a second was printed the following year, young 
 Bryant's friends prefixed an "Advertisement," as 
 they called it — a paragraph in which they assured 
 the public that the author was only thirteen, and 
 there were plenty of people who would vouch for 
 it. In this edition the name William Cullen 
 Bryant was boldly printed. 
 
 Of course this was not very good poetry. There 
 is a story that years afterward some one asked 
 Bryant if he had a copy of his first book, "The 
 Embargo. " < < No, " said he. Afterward the friend 
 who had asked him said he had found a copy in 
 Boston. "I don't see how you can spend your 
 
21 
 
 time with such rubbish, " said the poet, and turned 
 away. 
 
 During tne next few years he wrote other boyish 
 and patriotic poems, some of which were printed 
 in the Hampshire Gazette. One, written when he 
 was sixteen, was entitled ' ' The Genius of Colum- 
 bia"; another was, "An Ode for the Fourth of 
 July, 1812." 
 
 In 18 1 2 he entered the Sophomore Class in 
 Williams College, where he remained only a year. 
 There were only the president, one professor, and 
 two tutors at Williams College in those days, and 
 so Bryant's room-mate decided to go to Yale, 
 where he could get a better education. Bryant 
 thought he would go, too. He left Williams 
 College and went home to prepare himself to pass 
 the examinations for entrance to the Junior Class 
 in Yale. 
 
 During this summer, while he was studying at 
 home, he often wandered about in the woods; and 
 here he wrote " Thanatopsis. " At this time 
 Bryant was a very meditative young man, fond of 
 reading poetry, a fair Greek and Latin scholar, 
 
22 
 
 and devotedly fond of the country and all its 
 
 beauties. 
 
 Just how or when he wrote << Thanatopsis" 
 nobody ever knew. In the autumn his father 
 decided that he could not afford to send him to 
 Yale, as he was poor and had a large family. So 
 the young man went away to study law. After he 
 was gone, Dr. Bryant was looking over some 
 papers in his desk, and found in one of the pigeon- 
 holes some poems which his son Cullen had writ- 
 ten. One of them was ' ' Thanatopsis. " He read 
 it over, and thought it so good that he took it to a 
 lady friend of his. 
 
 "Here are some poems," said he, " which our 
 Cullen has been writing. " 
 
 She took them and began to read. When she 
 had finished " Thanatopsis " she burst into tears* 
 and Dr. Bryant found his eyes rather watery, too. 
 
 At that time Dr. Bryant was a member of the 
 senate in the Massachusetts legislature ; and so, 
 going up to Boston, he took this and some other 
 poems along. The North American Review was 
 the great magazine in those days, and Dr. Bryant 
 
23 
 
 knew slightly one of the editors, whose name was 
 Phillips. He went to call on him, but not finding 
 him at home left the package of manuscript with 
 his own name on it. When Mr. Phillips came 
 home he found it, and after reading the poems 
 concluded that Dr. Bryant must have written 
 " Thanatopsis, " while the other poems were by his 
 son Cullen. But he regarded this poem as such a 
 find that he hurried over to Cambridge to see his 
 two fellow-editors and read them the wonderful 
 lines. When he had finished, one of them, Richard 
 H. Dana, himself a poet, said : 
 
 "Oh, Phillips, you have been imposed on. 
 There is no one in America who can write such 
 a poem as that." 
 
 "Ah, but I know the man who wrote it, "said 
 Phillips. " He is in the senate." 
 
 ' ' Well, I must have a look at the man who 
 wrote that poem," said Dana; and off he posted to 
 Boston. He went to the state house, and to the 
 senate chamber, and asked for Senator Bryant. 
 A tall, gray-bearded old man was pointed out 
 to him. Dana looked at him for a few minutes 
 
24 
 
 and said to himself: "He has a fine head; but 
 that man never wrote ' Thanatopsis. ' So without 
 speaking to him he returned to Cambridge. 
 
 The poem was printed in the North American 
 Review. It was the first great poem ever pro- 
 duced in America ; it was the work of a young 
 man not eighteen years of age, and it has since 
 been said to be the greatest poem ever written by 
 one so young. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THANATOPSIS 
 
 Every child at school becomes familiar with this 
 grand poem, because it is in many of the higher 
 readers. But that is not enough. You should 
 learn to understand its meaning. As you read 
 this poem, are you not reminded of the deep notes 
 of a church organ, as the organist, left alone, 
 plays some mighty fugue in preparation for the 
 funeral of a great man? Thanatopsis (made up 
 from two Greek words) means a view of death. 
 The poem opens by calling to our minds the 
 
25 
 
 grandeurs and the beauty of a cathedral-like 
 wood, where Nature rules supreme. 
 
 To him who in the love of Nature holds 
 Communion with her visible forms, she speaks 
 A various language ; for his gayer hours she 
 Has a voice of gladness, and a smile 
 And eloquence of beauty, and she glides 
 Into his darker musings with a mild 
 And healing sympathy, that steals away 
 Their sharpness ere he is aware. 
 
 We should hardly expect a young man of seven- 
 teen to be meditating on death; but even very 
 young people often think about it. 
 
 When thoughts 
 Of the last bitter hour come like a blight 
 Over thy spirit, and sad images 
 Of the stern agony, and shroud, and pall, 
 And breathless darkness, and the narrow house, 
 Make thee to shudder and grow sick at heart — 
 
 These are the things we all think of when father 
 or mother or brother or sister or young friend dies 
 and is laid away in the earth. It is sad and ter- 
 rible, and we cannot help weeping. At those times 
 
26 
 
 strong men and women shed tears, and we do not 
 think it strange. But, says Bryant,— 
 
 Go forth tinder the open sky and list 
 To Nature's teachings, while from all around — 
 Earth and her waters, and the depths of air- 
 Comes a still voice : Yet a few days, and thee 
 The all-beholding sun shall see no more 
 . In all his course ; nor yet in the cold ground, 
 Where thy pale form was laid, with many tears, 
 Nor in the embrace of ocean, shall exist 
 Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, shall claim 
 Thy growth, to be resolved to earth again; 
 And, lost each human trace, surrendering up 
 Thine individual being, shalt thou go 
 To mix forever with the elements, 
 To be a brother to the insensible rock 
 And to the sluggish clod, which the rude swain 
 Turns with his share, and treads upon. The oak 
 Shall send his roots abroad and pierce thy mould. 
 
 Yet not to thine eternal resting-place 
 Shalt thou retire alone, nor couldst thou wish 
 Couch more magnificent. Thou shalt lie down 
 With patriarchs of the infant world — with kings, 
 The powerful of the earth — the wise, the good, 
 Fair forms, and hoary seers of ages past, 
 All in one mighty sepulchre. 
 
2 7 
 
 Being turned back to earth again does not seem 
 so terrible when we think that all must have the 
 same fate. There is a suggestion of grandeur 
 in the thought that George Washington, King 
 Solomon, Sir Isaac Newton, Napoleon — all lie in 
 the same bed which Nature, the all-ruling, ever- 
 lasting power, has provided. 
 
 The hills, 
 Rock-ribbed and ancient as the sun, — the vales, 
 Stretching in pensive quietness between; 
 The venerable woods, — rivers that move 
 In majesty, and the complaining brooks 
 That make the meadows green ; and, poured round all, 
 Old Ocean's gray and melancholy waste,— 
 Are but the solemn decorations all 
 Of the great tomb of man. 
 
 When we reflect on how many have lived and 
 died, the earth seems but one great tomb. There 
 are said to be over 1,200,000,000 persons on the 
 earth to-day. In a few years they will all have 
 passed away, and others will have taken their 
 places; and this change has been going on for thou- 
 sands and thousands of years. In the graveyards 
 
28 
 
 of any city will be found but a few hundred or at 
 most a few thousand graves; yet hundreds of thou- 
 sands of people have died there and been buried. 
 Where are their graves ? Lost and forgotten. 
 
 All that tread 
 The globe are but a handful to the tribes 
 That slumber in its bosom. — Take the wings 
 Of morning, pierce the Barcan wilderness, 
 Or lose thyself in the continuous woods 
 Where rolls the Oregon, and hears no sound 
 Save his own dashings — yet the dead are there : 
 And millions in those solitudes, since first 
 The flight of years began, have laid them down 
 In their last sleep — the dead reign there alone. 
 So shalt thou rest ; and what if thou withdraw 
 In silence from the living, and no friend 
 Take note of thy departure? All that breathe 
 Will share thy destiny. The gay will laugh 
 When thou art gone, the solemn brood of care 
 Plod on, and each one as before will chase 
 His favorite phantom; yet all these shall leave 
 Their mirth and their employments, and shall come 
 And make their bed with thee. As the long train 
 Of ages glides away, the sons of men, 
 The youth in life's green spring, and he who goes 
 In the full strength of years, matron and maid, 
 
29 
 
 The speechless babe, and the grey-headed man — 
 Shall one by one be gathered to thy side, 
 By those who in their turn shall follow them. 
 
 So live that when thy summons comes to join 
 The innumerable caravan, which moves 
 To that mysterious realm where each shall take 
 His chamber in the silent halls of death, 
 Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, 
 Scourged to his dungeon, but sustained and soothed 
 By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave 
 Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 
 About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 BRYANT BECOMES A LAWYER 
 
 Always of a studious turn, always reading in 
 his father's well-stocked library, or wandering 
 through the woods and writing poetry, Bryant nat- 
 urally tended towards some learned profession. 
 He did not care to be a doctor; he would have 
 liked to be a literary man, if such a career had 
 then existed or been dreamed possible. As it was 
 not, he finally decided to become a lawyer. 
 
3o 
 
 A classmate who remembers him at this time 
 describes him as singularly handsome and finely 
 formed. He was tall and slender, and had a pro- 
 lific growth of dark brown hair. He was also 
 quick and dextrous in his movements, so much 
 so that his younger brother sometimes boasted 
 about his "stout brother," though he afterward 
 learned that his strength was not so remarkable as 
 his skill and alertness in the use of it. 
 
 When his father's poverty compelled him to 
 abandon college, he entered the law office of a Mr. 
 Howe, of Worthington, a quiet little village four 
 or five miles from Cummington. 
 
 Bryant's friend and biographer, John Bigelow, 
 says: "A young man's first year's study of the 
 law commonly affects him like his first cigar or 
 his first experience ' before the mast.' In other 
 words, Bryant didn't like it at all. He was a con- 
 scientious young man, and kept at the work; but 
 he felt that he would almost as soon go out as a 
 day laborer. In a letter he speaks of Worthington 
 as consisting of "a blacksmith shop and a cow 
 stable, " where his only entertainment was reading 
 
3i 
 
 Irving s "Knickerbocker." Mr. Howe complained 
 that he gave more time to Wordsworth's lyrical bal- 
 lads than to Blackstone and Chitty, the great 
 authorities on law, which he should have been 
 studying. 
 
 Young Bryant wanted to go to Boston to con- 
 tinue his studies; but finally, as his father was too 
 poor to support him in Boston, he went to Bridge- 
 water, where his grandfather, Dr. Philip Bryant, 
 lived. He liked this place better. He was poet for 
 a Fourth of July celebration, and became inter- 
 ested in politics. The War of 1812 was going on. 
 Madison was President, and Bryant, in his letters 
 to his friends, speaks of him as "His Imbecility." 
 " His Imbecility " was warned that if he imposed 
 any more taxes the people would revolt. 
 
 At one time, Bryant thought of entering the 
 militia for the defense of states' rights. It seems 
 that he then advocated the policy of Massachu- 
 setts seceding from the Union, as the Southern 
 states afterwards did. 
 
 His father actually got him a commission as 
 adjutant in the Massachusetts militia, but the war 
 
32 
 
 ended, and Bryant kept on with his law studies. 
 That same year he came of age and was admitted 
 to practice at the bar. 
 
 He now went home and began to look about 
 for a place where he could begin the practice of law. 
 He decided on Plainfield, a small village four 
 or five miles from Cummington. Plainfield had 
 been the home of his father for a short time when 
 the future poet was a child ; but it was a very 
 small place, with not more than two hundred inhab- 
 itants. 
 
 He drudged here for a few months, earning 
 quite a little money ; but he decided that the 
 place was too small, and went to Great Barring- 
 ton, where he had a chance to go into partnership 
 with a lawyer already established, whose practice 
 was worth $1,200 a year. 
 
 Here he settled down to hard work, and here 
 he remained as long as he continued to practice 
 law. After the success of ' ' Thanatopsis, " he con- 
 tributed various articles to the North American 
 Review, and in it were published some of his most 
 famous poems. He was chosen one of the tithing 
 
33 
 
 men of the town, and soon afterwards town clerk, 
 an office he held for five years. As town clerk he 
 received a salary of five dollars a year. The gov- 
 ernor of Massachusetts also made him Justice of 
 the Peace. 
 
 When Bryant was twenty-five years old his father 
 died. This caused him great grief ; but about this 
 time, great happiness came to him also. Soon 
 after going to Great Barrington he had become 
 acquainted with a Miss Fairchild, who was an 
 orphan visiting in the neighborhood. He liked 
 her, and the year after his father's death they were 
 married. She was his devoted wife and friend 
 for forty-five years, until she died. 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A LITERARY ADVENTURER 
 
 Gradually Bryant had become known in the 
 small literary circle that had sprung up around 
 the North American Review, though his name was 
 not known outside this small circle in Boston. He 
 
34 
 
 had a great desire to become a literary man ; but 
 he knew he must support his wife and family, and 
 verse-making offered no money return. 
 
 His friends, Richard H. Dana, Miss Cathe- 
 rine Sedgwick, and one or two others, tried to 
 persuade him to go to New York and engage in 
 literature. Finally he made a visit to New York. 
 A publishing firm there offered him two hundred 
 dollars a year to write one hundred lines of poetry 
 a month for them. He thought this might keep 
 him from starvation. He went back to Great 
 Barrington and stayed for some time longer, con- 
 tributing to the United States Literary Gazette, 
 for which Longfellow was then writing 
 
 In 1825 he visited New York again, and was 
 offered the editorship of a monthly periodical, the 
 New York Review and Athenceum Magazine, which 
 some publishers were proposing to start. His sal- 
 ary was to be one thousand dollars a year. This 
 offer he accepted, and he went to New York to 
 live, leaving his wife and family in Great Barring- 
 ton until he should find out whether he was going 
 to succeed. He considered that if literature failed, 
 
35 
 
 he could drudge at the law in New York as well as 
 at Great Barrington. 
 
 James Fenimore Cooper, who was now becom- 
 ing a famous novelist, was a friend of Bryant's. 
 So was William Ware, who wrote a novel based 
 on the life of Zenobia, the queen of Palmyra, — a 
 very famous book in its day and one still worth 
 reading. Bryant worked very hard. He liked 
 literature a great deal better than he did the law ; 
 and though it was uncertain, he thought that for- 
 tune would favor him in the end. The magazine 
 he edited did not succeed very well, and at the 
 end of a year was united with another one, the 
 New York Literary Gazette. A few months later 
 the United States Gazette in Boston was united with 
 the magazine which Bryant was editing, under the 
 title, United States Review and Literary Gazette. 
 Bryant was allowed one quarter interest in 
 the business and five hundred dollars a year 
 salary. The five hundred dollars was probably 
 all he got, and this sum was so small he could 
 not make it support his family very well. If 
 this magazine should succeed, he would get more 
 
36 
 
 money; but it did not, and Bryant really thought 
 he would have to quit literature for law once 
 more. 
 
 He was licensed to practice in New York; but 
 just then fortune favored him : he was asked to 
 to do some work on the New York Evening Post. 
 The assistant editor had gone to Cuba, and 
 finally died there. So Bryant was soon made the 
 assistant editor, and was allowed an interest in the 
 paper. 
 
 At that time the paper was favorable to the 
 federal party; but a few years later it became 
 decidedly democratic in tone. So long as Mr. 
 Bryant controlled it, it was an advocate of free 
 trade and a bold champion of human liberty. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE EDITOR OF A GREAT NEWSPAPER 
 
 Bryant's life work proved to be, not writing 
 poetry, but editing a great New York daily paper. 
 For many years he went to his office at seven 
 o'clock every morning. He was never strong in 
 
37 
 
 body, and he had to take very great care of 
 his health. 
 
 Every young reader should learn a useful 
 lesson from him, although it is not easy to follow 
 the rigorous mode of life he laid out for himself 
 and followed to the end of his days. He himself 
 tells in a letter what he did : 
 
 "I rise early at this time of the year (March), 
 about half-past five ; in summer, half an hour or 
 even an hour earlier. Immediately, with very little 
 encumbrance of clothing, I begin a series of exer- 
 cises, for the most part designed to expand the 
 chest, and at the same time call into action all the 
 muscles and articulations of the body. These are 
 performed with dumb-bells, — the very lightest, 
 covered with flannel, — with a pole, a horizontal 
 bar, and a light chair swung around my head. 
 After a full hour and sometimes more passed in 
 this manner, I bathe from head to foot. When at 
 my place in the country, I sometimes shorten my 
 exercise in the chamber, and, going out, occupy 
 myself in some work which requires brisk motion. 
 After my bath, if breakfast be not ready, I sit 
 
38 
 
 down to my studies till I am called. My breakfast 
 is a simple one — hominy and milk, or, in place of 
 hominy, brown bread, or oatmeal, or wheaten grits, 
 and, in season, baked sweet apples. Buckwheat 
 cakes I do not decline, nor any other article of veg- 
 etable food, but animal food I never take at break- 
 fast. Tea and coffee I never touch at any time ; 
 sometimes I take a cup of chocolate, which has no 
 narcotic effect, and agrees with me very well. At 
 breakfast I often take fruit, either in its natural 
 state or freshly stewed. 
 
 "After breakfast I occupy myself for a while 
 with my studies, and, when in town, I walk down 
 to the office of the Evening Post, nearly three 
 miles distant, and after about three hours return, 
 always walking. * * * In town, where I dine 
 late, I take but two meals a day. Fruit makes a 
 considerable part of my diet. My drink is water. 
 
 "That I may rise early, I, of course, go to bed 
 early ; in town as early as ten ; in the country 
 somewhat earlier. * * * I abominate drugs 
 and narcotics, and have always carefully avoided 
 anything which spurs nature to exertions which it 
 
39 
 
 would not otherwise make. Even with my food I 
 do not take the usual condiments, such as pepper 
 
 and the like." 
 
 A man who was so conscientious about eating 
 and drinking and going to bed and getting up in 
 the morning, was the kind of man who would be 
 conscientious in editing a newspaper. In Bryant's 
 early newspaper life a great daily paper was not so 
 much a machine to gather news from every quarter 
 of the globe and serve it up in a sensational style, as 
 a medium for discussing public questions. Nowa- 
 days, people often do not even look at the editorial 
 column ; but in those days there was so little news 
 they were obliged to read this. It was about the 
 only fresh thing in the paper. Once a week, per- 
 haps, a sailing vessel from Europe would come 
 in with a bundle of European newspapers, from 
 which the editor would clip and reprint a summary 
 of foreign news. It took several days to get news 
 from Washington to New York. Local items were 
 generally sent in by friends of the editor. For 
 years Bryant had but one assistant, and they two 
 did all the reporting, editing, and editorial writing. 
 
4 o 
 
 Reviews of books were sometimes done outside, 
 and the shipping and financial news was furnished 
 by a sort of City Press Association. It was Bry- 
 ant's work to write a brilliant editorial or two every 
 morning. Many of these were on politics, others 
 on questions of local public interest. But Bryant 
 tried always to be on the side of right and justice. 
 For years the Post was regarded as the leading 
 paper of the people, standing for the rights of the 
 people. Many a time it fought the battles of the 
 great public, and sometimes it won. 
 
 A daily paper lasts but for a day; then it is dead 
 and another takes its place. To know how com- 
 pletely a daily paper dies when its day's work is 
 done, so to speak, suppose you try to buy a copy 
 three months old, or a year old. You remember 
 three months ago there were hundreds of thousands 
 of copies printed and distributed. You suppose 
 that you can get a copy at the office of the paper, 
 at any rate. But no; all more than three months 
 old have been destroyed. 
 
 In New York there was once a little old shop, 
 kept by a queer old mulatto, known as ' ' Back 
 
4i 
 
 Number Bud," who charged a dollar and a half 
 for a one cent paper, less than a year old. This 
 shop of ' ' Back Number Bud's " was, a few years 
 ago, the only place in New York City where back 
 numbers of newspapers could be purchased at any 
 price ; and in smaller cities no copies whatever 
 could be obtained, except by chance. 
 
 A daily newspaper influences the people to-day, 
 and then dies, and another paper takes its place. 
 But if one man is making that paper every day for 
 fifty years, at the end of fifty years, doing a little 
 every day, he may have succeeded several times in 
 completely revolutionizing public opinion. 
 
 Besides Bryant, there were other great newspa- 
 per editors in New York. One was Horace 
 Greeley, whose name every child has heard. 
 There were others, too. But none were so faith- 
 ful as Bryant. For years his newspaper work took 
 so much of his time that he wrote scarcely any 
 poetry at all. But as those numbers of the Even- 
 ing Post are dead and forgotten, we shall never 
 know how much good he did during those years 
 and years of faithful leadership. 
 
42 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 HOW BRYANT BECAME RICH 
 
 We have already seen that Bryant was born a 
 poor country boy ; that his father was so poor he 
 could not send his son to college more than a year; 
 and that Bryant himself, when he first went to 
 New York, worked for a time at a salary of only 
 five hundred dollars a year. 
 
 When he became assistant editor of the Evening 
 Post, the editor-in-chief, William Coleman, who 
 was also the chief proprietor, thought it would be 
 well to give a small interest in the paper to one or 
 two young men, so that when the older proprie- 
 tors died others would be coming on to take their 
 places. An eighth part was given to Bryant, who 
 was to pay for it gradually from the money he 
 could save. Another portion was offered to a 
 friend of his, who decided not to take it. 
 
 Three or four years later, when Mr. Coleman 
 died, Bryant was made editor-in-chief, and bought 
 a larger interest in the paper. He finally secured 
 one half. The other half was owned for a time by 
 
 
43 
 
 a Mr. Burnham, a practical printer. Later, one 
 of Bryant's assistants, whose name was Leggett, 
 owned a part interest. 
 
 In those days newspapers were not such costly 
 properties as they are to-day. Bryant always 
 made a good living, but he regarded the work in 
 which he was engaged as drudgery. 
 
 After he had been in the newspaper work for 
 some years, he wrote to his brother, who was a 
 pioneer in Illinois, saying he thought of retiring 
 from the Post, and asking what could be done in 
 the West with four or five thousand dollars. His 
 interest at this time was two fifths, so that he 
 must have valued the paper at about twelve thou- 
 sand dollars. 
 
 About this time, while he was away from 
 New York, his partner and assistant editor, Mr. 
 Leggett, nearly ruined the paper. When Bryant 
 returned he found that it was earning no money, 
 and that he could not sell his interest at any price. 
 He therefore set to work to win popularity for 
 the paper once more. This he succeeded gradu- 
 ally in doing, and during the next ten years there 
 
44 
 
 was an average yearly profit of over $10,000, of 
 which Bryant received a little less than half. In 
 1850 the yearly profit was $16,000, and in i860 it 
 was #70,000. If Bryant received $30,000 for his 
 share of the profits of a year's business, he might 
 be regarded as a rich man. After his death, the 
 Evening Post was sold for $900,000, of which 
 
 Bryant's share was half. 
 
 During his later years he bought a great deal 
 of land and many houses on Long Island, where 
 he had a country home. He had another country 
 home at Cummington, his grandfather's homestead, 
 where he built a beautiful house. He also traveled 
 a great deal, going to Europe many times, and to 
 other parts of the world. 
 
 Thus, by faithful, plodding work for many years 
 Bryant, though a poet, became rich. He was del- 
 icate and sympathetic, like all true poets, but he 
 did not indulge in what some have supposed to be 
 the poet's liberty to be reckless and careless. He 
 worked faithfully and very diligently all his life; 
 and in his old age he was well rewarded for all his 
 labor. 
 
45 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 BRYANT AS AN ORATOR AND PROSE WRITER 
 
 When Bryant went to New York it was a com- 
 paratively small city. As years passed, it grew in 
 size and wealth, and its newspapers became more 
 important. We have seen how Bryant became 
 rich by his ownership of the Evening Post. He 
 also gained in honors. He was the editor of a 
 great daily paper, and he was also a noted poet. 
 His poems had been published both in this country 
 and in London, and many thousands of copies were 
 sold. Bryant was often asked to write poems for 
 great celebrations, or in honor of well-known 
 people. This he always refused to do. But he 
 often made public addresses. When James Feni- 
 more Cooper died, he acted, as it were, as the 
 spokesman of the nation's grief. He pronounced 
 the funeral eulogy upon Irving, and upon many 
 noted people. He was not a great orator like 
 Daniel Webster; but such speeches as these upon 
 the lives of great men have seldom been surpassed. 
 
 We must remember, too, that all his life Bryant, 
 
46 
 
 in his editorials, was writing prose. From these 
 editorials it would be easy to select some of the 
 finest pieces of prose writing in our language. As 
 most of them were on the passing events of the 
 day, they have never been reprinted, — they have 
 died with the newspaper. But here is a passage 
 on the emancipation of the slaves which has the 
 ring of true eloquence. 
 
 President Lincoln had proposed gradual eman- 
 cipation. 
 
 "Gradual emancipation!" exclaims Bryant. 
 " Have we not suffered enough from slavery with- 
 out keeping it any longer? Has not blood enough 
 been shed? My friends, if a child of yours were 
 to fall into the fire, would you pull him out gradu- 
 ally? If he were to swallow a dose of laudanum 
 sufficient to cause speedy death, and a stomach 
 pump were at hand, would you draw out the poison 
 by degrees ? If your house were on fire, would 
 you put it out piecemeal? And yet there are men 
 who talk of gradual emancipation by force of 
 ancient habit, and there are men in the slave 
 states who make of slavery a sort of idol which 
 
47 
 
 they are unwilling to part with; which, if it must 
 be removed, they would prefer to see removed 
 after a lapse of time and tender leave-takings. 
 
 ' ' Slavery is a foul and monstrous idol, a Jugger- 
 naut under which thousands are crushed to death ; 
 it is a Moloch for whom the children of the land 
 pass through fire. Must we consent that the 
 number of the victims shall be diminished gradu- 
 ally? If there are a thousand victims this year, 
 are you willing that nine hundred shall be sacri- 
 ficed next year, and eight hundred the next, and 
 so on until after the lapse of ten years it shall 
 cease? No, my friends, let us hurl the grim image 
 from its pedestal. Down with it to the ground! 
 Dash it to fragments; trample it in the dust. 
 Grind it to powder as the prophets of old com- 
 manded that the graven images of the Hebrew 
 idolaters should be ground, and in that state scatter 
 it to the four winds and strew it upon the waters, 
 that no human hand shall ever gather up the 
 accursed atoms and mould them into an image to 
 be worshiped again with human sacrifice. " 
 
 This eloquent passage is taken from an editorial 
 
48 
 
 in the Evening Post. The following is from a 
 speech delivered at a dinner given to Professor 
 Morse, the inventor of the telegraph : 
 
 tl There is one view of this great invention which 
 impresses me with awe. Beside me at this board, 
 along with the illustrious man whom we are met to 
 honor, and whose name will go down to the latest 
 generations of civilized man, sits the gentleman to 
 whose clear-sighted perseverance, and to whose 
 energy — an energy which knew no discouragement, 
 no weariness, no pause — we owe it that the tele- 
 graph has been laid which connects the Old World 
 with the New through the Atlantic Ocean. My 
 imagination goes down to the chambers of the 
 middle sea, to those vast depths where repose the 
 mystic wire on beds of coral, among forests of 
 tangle, or on the bottom of the dim blue gulfs, 
 strewn with the bones of whales and sharks, 
 skeletons of drowned men, and ribs and masts of 
 foundered barks, laden with wedges of gold never 
 to be coined, and pipes of the choicest vintages of 
 earth never to be tasted. 
 
 "Through these watery solitudes, among the 
 
49 
 
 fountains of the great deep, the abode of per- 
 petual silence, never visited by living human 
 presence and beyond the sight of human eye, 
 there are gliding to and fro, by night and by 
 day, in light and in darkness, in calm and in 
 tempest, currents of human thought borne by the 
 electric pulse which obeys the bidding of man. 
 That slender wire thrills with the hopes and fears 
 of nations; it vibrates to every emotion that can be 
 awakened by any event affecting the welfare of the 
 human race. 
 
 ' ' A volume of contemporary history passes 
 every hour of the day from one continent to 
 another. An operator on the continent of Europe 
 gently touches the keys of an instrument in his 
 quiet room, a message is shot with the swiftness of 
 light through the abysses of the sea, and before 
 his hand is lifted from the machine the story of 
 revolts and revolutions, of monarchs dethroned and 
 new dynasties set up in their place, of battles and 
 conquests and treaties of peace, of great statesmen 
 fallen in death, lights of the world gone out and 
 new luminaries glimmering on the horizon, is writ- 
 
5° 
 
 ten down in another quiet room on the other side 
 of the globe. 
 
 "Mr. President, I see in the circumstances 
 which I have enumerated a new proof of the 
 superiority of mind to matter, of the independent 
 existence of that part of our nature which we call 
 the spirit, when it can thus subdue, enslave, and 
 educate the subtilest, the most active, and in 
 certain of its manifestations the most intractable 
 and terrible, of the elements, making it in our 
 hands the vehicle of thought, and compelling it to 
 speak every language of the civilized world. I infer 
 the capacity of the spirit for a separate state of 
 being, its indestructible essence and its noble 
 destiny, and I thank the great discoverer whom we 
 have assembled to honor for this confirmation of 
 my faith." __ 
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 OTHER EVENTS IN BRYANT'S LIFE 
 
 Among the remaining important events of the 
 poet's life, we must first speak of the publica- 
 tion of his poems. In 1822, the year after his 
 
5i 
 
 marriage and while he was trying to practice law at 
 Great Barrington, he was invited to deliver the usual 
 poetical address before the Phi Beta Kappa Society 
 of Harvard College. For this occasion he wrote 
 the poem of ' ' The Ages, " with which his collected 
 works now open. This poem secured him so 
 much reputation that he published a very small 
 volume of his works. There were but forty-four 
 pages, but in that small space were printed some 
 of the finest poems Bryant ever wrote. The 
 copies did not sell very rapidly, and Bryant's profit 
 was not large. When he was old and famous, a 
 young man said to him, "I have just bought a 
 copy of the first volume of your poems. I paid 
 twenty dollars for it. " 
 
 "Hm ! " said Bryant. "A good deal more 
 than I got for writing it! " 
 
 Of his other poems, a large number were writ- 
 ten for the United States Literary Gazette, and 
 the various magazines he edited in New York. 
 When he became editor of the Evening Post he 
 continued to edit the United States Review and 
 Literary Gazette, until it was discontinued. After 
 
52 
 
 that he assisted in editing an annual called The 
 Talisman, which appeared regularly until 1829. 
 To this he contributed a considerable number of 
 poems. But now for several years he wrote but 
 little poetry, giving all his time and energy to the 
 newspaper. 
 
 In 1 83 1, however, he published a second collec- 
 tion of his poems. There were eighty in the 
 volume. Then he thought he would see how 
 they would be received in England. He had a 
 friend who knew Washington Irving. Irving was 
 a famous writer at this time, and his publisher was 
 John Murray, one of the greatest of English pub- 
 lishers. Bryant obtained an introduction to Irving 
 by letter, and asked him to assist in getting Mur- 
 ray to bring out a London edition of his poems. 
 Murray would not do it, however. But Irving 
 admired Bryant's work, and after a time he found 
 another publisher who was willing to bring out the 
 volume. He himself wrote an introduction, and 
 dedicated the book to Rogers, the fashionable poet 
 of England at that time. But before the book 
 came out the publisher, a fussy old man, came to 
 
53 
 
 Irving and said it would never do to print in Eng- 
 land the line, 
 
 And the British foe man trembles. 
 That would be sure to offend the stolid Briton's 
 pride. So Irving changed the line to 
 
 The foeman trembles in his camp. 
 
 Years afterward there was some controversy over 
 this change on the part of Irving ; but Irving and 
 Bryant always remained good friends. 
 
 Other volumes of his collected poems were pub- 
 lished from time to time after this ; but they are 
 not important. The only other great poetic work 
 that Bryant attempted was his translation of Ho- 
 mer's Iliad and Odyssey. When he translated these 
 grand Greek poems into English blank verse he was 
 already quite an old man. His wife had died, and 
 he wished some regular work, aside from his paper, 
 that would claim his thoughts. So he made it a 
 practice to translate a few lines every day. This 
 he kept up for a number of years, until he had 
 translated the whole of both these long poems. 
 
 For this he probably received more money than 
 
54 
 
 for all his other poems put together — over seven- 
 teen thousand dollars in all. 
 
 We must next speak of his travels ; for Bryant 
 was a great traveler. His first long journey was 
 made in 1832 to visit his brothers, who had become 
 the proprietors of a large landed estate in Illinois. 
 He was three weeks on the journey out. While 
 crossing the prairies between the Mississippi River 
 and his brothers' plantation he met a company 
 of Illinois volunteers, who were going to take 
 part in the Black Hawk War. They were led by 
 a tall, awkward, uncouth lad, whose appearance 
 attracted Bryant's attention, and whose conversa- 
 tion pleased him, it was so breezy and original. 
 He learned many years afterward that this captain 
 was Abraham Lincoln. When in i860 it was pro- 
 posed to nominate Lincoln for President, Lincoln 
 came to New York to speak, and Bryant intro- 
 duced him to the audience. 
 
 It was during his visit to his brothers that he 
 wrote of 
 
 The unshorn fields, boundless and beautiful, 
 For which the speech of England has no name. 
 
55 
 
 He evidently liked the West, for we have seen that 
 later he proposed to sell out his paper and go there 
 
 to live. 
 
 In 1834 he made his first trip to Europe. While 
 he was gone he wrote letters regularly for his 
 paper ; but he traveled leisurely and enjoyed him- 
 self. He took his wife and daughters with him. 
 He remained two years, when he was called home 
 by the illness of the associate editor, who had 
 charge of the paper in his absence. 
 
 After this, at various times, he visited Europe 
 again, crossing the Atlantic in all six times. One 
 of these journeys, made in 1857, was chiefly for 
 Mrs. Bryant's health. They landed at Havre, and 
 journeyed through Belgium and Holland, France 
 and Spain to Madrid, whence they crossed to 
 Naples, where Mrs. Bryant was ill for four months. 
 She recovered somewhat, but when at last they 
 returned to the United States she was not much 
 better. Bryant had bought the old homestead 
 at Cummington, and had invited all his relatives 
 from Illinois to join him in ' ' hanging the pot. " In 
 July, 1858, he had to notify his brothers, some of 
 
56 
 
 whom were already at Cummington, that his wife 
 was too ill to go there ; and on the 27th of that 
 month she died. In regard to her death he wrote 
 to a friend, ' ' I lived with my wife forty-five years, 
 and now that great blessing of my life is with- 
 drawn, and I am like one cast out of paradise and 
 wandering in a strange world. " 
 
 Nearly ten years before this, in 1849, he made a 
 visit of two months to Cuba, going by way of 
 the Carolinas and Florida. He was ' ' received 
 by the governor-general of Havana, and passed 
 several days on a coffee estate at Matanzas, 
 going then by rail to San Antonio in a car built at 
 Newark, drawn by an engine made in New York, 
 and worked by an American engineer. He 
 breakfasted at the inn of La Punta on rice 
 and fresh eggs and a dish of meat. He witnessed 
 a cock-fight, a masked ball, a murderer garroted, 
 and slavery in some of its most inhuman 
 phases." 
 
 He also visited Mexico, Egypt, and the Shet- 
 land Islands, and was everywhere an interested 
 observer of men and manners, 
 
57 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 HONORS TO THE GREAT POET 
 
 We have seen that Bryant was not only a great 
 poet, but a great newspaper editor, an eloquent 
 orator, and a rich man. So he came to be a 
 noted public character, one of the leading citizens 
 of the great city of New York. From this time 
 forward until his death in extreme old age, prom- 
 inent statesmen, politicians, poets, people of soci- 
 ety, hastened to shower honors upon him. He 
 was asked to be a regent of the University of 
 New York, but declined. Banquets were also 
 tendered him, which he also declined. But on 
 his seventieth birthday, November 3, 1864, the 
 Century Club of New York, of which he had been 
 one of the founders, resolved to make a great fes- 
 tival in his honor. Bancroft, the historian, was 
 president of the club, and greeted Bryant with a 
 graceful speech on that great occasion. In Bry- 
 ant's reply is the following passage, which will be 
 of interest to all young people as showing that 
 this great and wise man believed in placing 
 
 
58 
 
 responsibility on the young, and not in keeping 
 them in the background for wise old heads. 
 
 ' ' Much has been said of the wisdom of Old 
 Age, " said he. ' ' Old Age is wise, I grant, for it- 
 self, but not wise for the community. It is wise 
 in declining new enterprises, for it has not the 
 power nor the time to execute them ; wise in 
 shirking from difficulty, for it has not the strength 
 to overcome it ; wise in avoiding danger, for it 
 lacks the faculty of ready and swift action, by 
 which dangers are parried and converted into 
 advantages. But this is not wisdom for mankind 
 at large, by whom new enterprises must be under- 
 taken, dangers met, and difficulties surmounted. 
 What a world this would be if it were made up 
 of old men ! " 
 
 Oliver Wendell Holmes was there, and read a 
 beautiful poem composed for the occasion. There 
 were also other poems read by their authors, 
 and Whittier and Lowell, who could not be there, 
 sent their poems to be read, while Longfellow and 
 a great many other famous people wrote letters of 
 congratulation. 
 
59 
 
 Here are some of the beautiful lines from the 
 poem which Dr. Holmes read : 
 
 How can we praise the verse whose music flows 
 With solemn cadence and majestic close, 
 Pure as the dew that filters through the rose? 
 
 How shall we thank him that in evil days 
 He faltered never, — nor for blame nor praise, 
 Nor hire nor party, shared his earlier days ? 
 
 But as his boyhood was of manliest hue, 
 So to his youth his manty years were true, 
 All dyed in royal purple through and through. 
 
 Ralph Waldo Emerson was there, and made a 
 speech, which he closed with this verse, written by 
 the poet Crabbe : 
 
 True bard, and simple as the race 
 Of heaven-born poets always are, 
 
 When stooping from their starry place 
 They're children near but gods afar. 
 
 This means that great poets seem very great and 
 magnificent when we think of them after they are 
 dead and gone, or when they live by themselves 
 
6o 
 
 at a great distance ; but really, when you know 
 them, they are as natural and human as children. 
 That perfectly describes William Cullen Bryant. 
 
 In 1874 Bryant was elected an honorary member 
 of the Russian Academy of St. Petersburg. The 
 same year, on his eightieth birthday, he was pre- 
 sented with an address of honor, signed by thou- 
 sands and thousands of people. This was accom- 
 panied by a special vase, completed sometime 
 afterward, which commemorated his literary 
 career. A little later in the same year he visited 
 Governor Tilden at Albany, and was tendered a 
 public reception. After that some of his friends 
 proposed that he should be nominated as one of 
 the electors on the Tilden electoral ticket, when 
 Tilden was a candidate for the presidency of the 
 United States. 
 
 These and many other public honors were 
 heaped upon him in his old age. When over 
 eighty-three years of age he was invited to deliver 
 an address on the unveiling of a statue of Maz- 
 zini, the Italian patriot, in Central Park, New 
 York City. After it was over, he was very much 
 
6i 
 
 exhausted, but walked across the park to the house 
 of a friend. On the steps he fell, being old and 
 feeble and very tired. His head hit on a stone and 
 he fainted away. Less than two weeks later, 
 June 12, 1878, he died from the effects of this fall. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 LEARNING TO LOVE A POET 
 
 It is not uncommon to hear young people say, 
 " I don't like poetry at all. It is dry, horrid stuff, 
 and I don't understand it." No doubt some of 
 you will say or think this about Bryant's poetry. 
 It is true that he used a great many long, hard 
 words; and his poems are sometimes rather solemn. 
 What is more, they are not musical like Longfellow's. 
 It is said that Bryant had no ear for music. For 
 this reason you cannot read his poetry as you do 
 Longfellow's, swinging along from line to line. 
 Young people who read in the sing-song style will 
 find that they cannot do, that when they come to 
 Bryant. At first you may think his poetry is, for 
 this reason, not good poetry at all. Perhaps it 
 
62 
 
 would be better to call Bryant a prose poet instead 
 of a musical poet. But when you get used to his 
 prose-like poetry, you will like it if you have in 
 you the least love of nature or natural beauty. 
 
 Take some one poem that you like and read it 
 over and over again, until you have it almost if not 
 quite by heart — for instance, that beautiful poem, 
 ' ' The Death of the Flowers, " written on the occa- 
 sion of his sister's death : 
 
 The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the 
 
 year, 
 Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown 
 
 and sere. 
 Heaped in the hollows of the grove, the autumn leaves 
 
 lie dead; 
 They rustle to the eddying gust, and to the rabbit's 
 
 tread. 
 The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrubs 
 
 the jay, 
 And from the wood- top calls the crow through all the 
 
 gloomy day. 
 
 Other poems that are well worth reading many 
 times, until you really understand and love them, 
 are ' ' The Waterfowl, " ' ' Autumn Woods, " ■ ' No- 
 
63 
 
 vember, " "The Gladness of Nature," "The 
 Past," "To the Fringed Gentian," "The Con- 
 queror's Grave," "An Invitation to the Country," 
 "The Wind and the Stream," "The Poet," 
 "May Evening," "The Flood of Years," and 
 ' ' Our Fellow-Worshipers. " To have mastered 
 one of these poems is better than to have read the 
 whole of Bryant carelessly. Take one, and read 
 it until by very force of habit you learn to love it; 
 and then the next poem you take up will reveal 
 beauties which you never suspected when you 
 first read it. 
 
 There is also a city poem of Bryant's, "The 
 Crowded Street, " well worth learning to love : 
 
 Let me move slowly through the street, 
 
 Filled with an ever-shifting train, 
 Amid the sound of steps that beat 
 
 The murmuring walks like autumn rain. 
 
 How fast the flitting figures come! 
 
 The mild, the fierce, the stony face ; 
 Some bright with thoughtless smiles, and some 
 
 Where secret tears have left their trace. 
 
 And here is one more short poem, which may you 
 
64 
 
 all remember, long after you have forgotten that 
 you ever read this little history of the poet's life ! 
 
 THE DEATH OF LINCOLN. 
 
 Oh, slow to smite and swift to spare, 
 
 Gentle and merciful and just! 
 Who, in the fear of God, didst bear 
 
 The sword of power, a nation's trust! 
 
 In sorrow by thy bier we stand, 
 
 Amid the awe that hushes all, 
 And speak the anguish of a land 
 
 That shook with horror at thy fall. 
 
 Thy task is done ; the bond are free : 
 We bear thee to an honored grave, 
 
 Whose proudest monument shall be 
 The broken fetters of the slave. 
 
 Pure was thy life ; its bloody close 
 
 Hath placed thee with the sons of light, 
 
 Among the noblest host of those 
 Who perished in the cause of Right. 
 
"four Great 
 
 James Baldwin, Ph. D. 
 
 Americans" Series... 
 
 For Young American Readers. 
 
 In order that Baldwin's Biographical Stories may be had 
 in book form, they are bound together, four Booklets to the 
 volume. These volumes, beautifully bound in cloth, will be 
 published and known as the "Four Great Americans" Series. 
 
 VOLUMES NOW READY! 
 
 L Four Great Americans 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 
 DANIEL WEBSTER, ABRAHAM LINCOLN. 
 
 By James Baldwin, Ph. D. 
 
 Cloth. 246 Pages. . . . Price, 50 Cents. 
 
 IL Four American Patriots 
 
 PATRICK HENRY, ALEXANDER HAMILTON, 
 ANDREW JACKSON, ULYSSES S. GRANT. 
 By Alma Holman Burton, 
 
 Author of ** The Story of Our Country." 
 
 Cloth. 256 Pages. . . . Price, 50 Cents. 
 
 Other Volumes in Preparation. 
 Liberal Terms for Supplies to Schools. 
 
 Send for our Price List and 
 Announcement of 
 EPOCH-MAKING BOOKS. 
 
 WERNER SCHOOL BOOK COMPANY, 
 
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 New York, CHICAGO, Boston, 
 
 78 Fifth Avenue. 378-388 Wabash Avenue. 73 Tremont Street. 
 
 III. Four American Naval Heroes. 
 
" FOR BEGINNERS IN READING." 
 
 THE WERNER PRIMER 
 
 Exquisitely Illustrated in Colors. 
 H2 Pages. Price 30 Cents. 
 
 H^HE Werner Primer is a growth. It is based on the 
 •■*- Kindergarten idea as taught by Froebel. It in- 
 cludes all the work for the first half year, taking up the 
 subjects of reading, writing, language, number, science, 
 drawing, literature, and occupations, by means of the 
 most perfect inductive, correlative exercises. 
 
 This famous book has accomplished two results: 
 
 1. It has revolutionized methods of teaching 1 be- 
 ginners in reading*. 
 
 2. It has revolutionized the making* of text-books 
 for beginners in reading-. 
 
 The ■ ' old style ' Primers, First Readers, Primary 
 Readers, etc. , have all been relegated to the past. THE 
 WERNER PRIMER stands without a rival in original- 
 ity, in plan, in method, in beauty, in practical value, — 
 in everything needed in the schoolroom for beginners in 
 reading. 
 
 Liberal Terms for Supplies to Schools. 
 
THE 
 
 First Year Nature Reader* 
 
 o? o? o? 
 
 p nr (ZfnrJf>Q T nnrl TT By Katherine Beebe 
 
 - rc,r UrdUCb 1 ctnU 11. and Nellie F. Kingsley 
 
 J54 Pages. Price 35 Cents. 
 
 r I ^HIS is a remarkably interesting book for children. 
 "*■ It is designed to be taken up after the Werner 
 Primer, and has been prepared in the same thorough 
 and beautiful manner. The subject matter follows the 
 seasons as they change from fall to summer, calling 
 attention to the flowers, fruits, birds, and activities of 
 every-day interest. 
 
 The study of Nature is always attractive to the child, 
 and in the First Vear Nature Reader are some of the 
 most interesting phases of out-door life, put in a form 
 easily understood and enjoyed by the youngest reader. 
 
 A valuable feature of the book is a list of appropriate 
 stories by well-known authors. These are to be read or 
 told in connection with the reading lessons. At the end 
 of the book are placed many suggestions regarding seat 
 work, such as painting, drawing, modeling, sewing, etc. 
 The book is beautifully illustrated in colors and forms an 
 44 ideal First Reader." 
 
 Liberal Terms for Supplies to Schools. 
 
Legends of the Red Children 
 
 O? O? vl? 
 
 For Grades IV and V. mara l. pratt 
 
 \ 28 Pages. Price 30 Cents. 
 
 TN contrast with the old, classic tales and the lessons 
 -*- from Nature are these poetic legends of Indian life. 
 Children delight in beautiful stories like these, which 
 carry them into a new and strange world. Not only do 
 the myths form most interesting reading, but they 
 directly cultivate the child's imagination by means of the 
 delightful, poetic fancies. 
 
 The literary style of the author is picturesque and 
 charming, and is peculiarly adapted to interest the 
 children. The following extract, from the preface, shows 
 the pleasing character of the writings: 
 
 "Many years ago, when this country of ours was one great forest, 
 * * * there dwelt a race of happy little children. The Red Children, 
 we call them * * * Some wise men, who loved the Red Children and 
 saw the sweetness of their simple stories, gathered them together and 
 told them in a book, so that you and I might read these legends of the 
 Red Children." 
 
 The little book is attractively bound and illustrated.. 
 The chapters include, among others: 
 
 The Legend of the Lightning. The Rainbow. 
 
 The Star Beautiful. The Sun a Prisoner. 
 
 Will-o'-the-Wisp. The Land of the Hereafter, etc. 
 
 Liberal Terms for Supplies to Schools. 
 
The Story of Our Country* 
 
 %o o? o? 
 
 rot Grades V and VI. "alma ho man burton 
 
 240 Pages. Price 60 Cents. 
 
 r I ^HIS is a unique and charming work, which not only 
 -*- forms an admirable primary history, but also makes: 
 a remarkably interesting book for supplementary read- 
 ing. It is the story of the people of the United States, 
 and of their progress from the struggles and privations 
 in the wilderness down to the national prosperity of to- 
 day. 
 
 So skillfully is our country's growth depicted that the 
 whole is one continuous story, as charming as -any ro- 
 mance and of absorbing interest from beginning to end. 
 The captivating and picturesque style in which it is writ- 
 ten makes the work especially desirable as a supplemen- 
 tary reading book. 
 
 The illustrations are numerous, and are much more 
 than mere pictures, for each one assists in telling the 
 story, and is not thrown in haphazard, merely for embel- 
 lishment. 
 
 The author's aim throughout is to awaken in the child 
 an interest in our country's progress and to cherish feel- 
 ings of patriotic pride and love of country. 
 
 Liberal Terms for Supplies to Schools. 
 
SOHRAB and RUSTUM 
 
 AN EPISODE 
 
 For Higher Grades. matthew arnold 
 
 J23 Pages. Price 40 Cents. 
 
 r I ^HIS little volume presents one of the greatest epics 
 ■*■ of modern times, and introduces the student to 
 the rich fields of Persian literature. The subject of the 
 poem goes back to the earliest traditions of Persia, which 
 have been handed down for centuries in the folk-lore and 
 the written chronicles. During the tenth century these 
 traditional data were gathered together by the ' ' Homer 
 of Persia ' ' into one great epic, and it is on the crowning 
 episode of this great saga that Arnold has based his poem. 
 
 Sohrab and Rustum, more than any other of his 
 works, has placed Arnold among the poets of modern 
 England. It is the masterpiece of his classic and heroic 
 poems. A most interesting introduction, and valuable 
 and abundant notes, have been prepared by Merwin 
 Marie Snell. There is also a bibliography for the use of 
 students. 
 
 This poem has been selected as one of the English 
 requirements for admission into the colleges of the 
 United States. 
 
 Liberal Terms for Supplies to Schools. 
 
afayette, 
 
 The 
 
 
 THE BOOK OF 
 THE HOUR for 
 THE YOUTH 
 OF AMERICA.. 
 
 ** Just 
 
 ** Published. 
 
 Jirienclotjtmerican eCiberty 
 
 Ohe proposal to erect a monument in Paris to the 
 early friend of American liberty, GENERAL 
 LAFAYETTE, by contributions from the patriotic 
 school children of the United States, has aroused 
 national enthusiasm for the memory of this noble 
 
 In view of the great interest which this 
 fitting- and significant movement has awakened in 
 the life, character and services of the heroic soldier 
 and patriot, the Werner School Book Company has 
 just issued, edited by Dr. James Baldwin, 
 
 "LAFAYETTE, 
 
 THE FRIEND OF AMERICAN LIBERTY," 
 
 By Mrs. ALMA HOLMAN BURTON, 
 
 The author of ** Four American Patriots/' 
 
 ** The Story of Our Country/' Etc. 
 
 A TIMELY CONTRIBUTION OF GREAT VALUE 
 TO PATRIOTIC EDUCATIONAL LITERATURE. 
 
 merner School Book 
 
 ..♦gompany... 
 
 CHICAGO: 378-388 Wabash Ave. 
 NEW YORK: 78 Fifth Ave. 
 BOSTON: 73 Tremont St 
 
 Educational Publishers. 
 
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 The term, " Epoch-Making," is often used inaccurately. 
 When properly applied to school-books, it means such 
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 in the treatment of that branch. Such works, by showing a better way 
 than that "which was formerly pursued, bring about a revolution in 
 the making of school=books, as well as reform in the meth= 
 ods of teaching. 
 
 J8ST Here are some 
 
 NOTABLE EXAMPLES OF 
 EPOCH=MAKING BOOKS: 
 
 DeGarmo's Language Lessons, Book I $ SO 
 
 DeGarmo's Language Lessons, Book II 40 
 
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 The Werner Arithmetic, Book I. (Hall) 40 
 
 The Werner Arithmetic, Book II. (Hall) 50 
 
 The Werner Arithmetic. Book III. (Hall) 50 
 
 Giffin's Grammar School Algebra 50 
 
 Burton's Story of Our Country GO 
 
 The Story of George Washington (Baldwin) 10 
 
 The Story of Benjamin Franklin (Baldwin) 10 
 
 The Story of Daniel Webster (Baldwin) 10 
 
 The Story of Abraham Lincoln (Baldwin) 10 
 
 Baldwin's Four Great Americans ( W. F. W. & L.) 50 
 
 Baldwin's Primary Lessons in Physiology 35 
 
 Baldwin's Essential Lessons in Physiology 50 
 
 Hinsdale's Studies in Education 1 00 
 
 Hinsdale's American Government 1 25 
 
 Hinsdale's Training for Citizenship 10 
 
 Hinsdale's History and Civil Government of Ohio 1 00 
 
 The Werner Primer (Taylor) 30 
 
 Old Time Stories Betold (Smythe) 30 
 
 First Year Nature Reader (Beebe & Kingsley ) 35 
 
 Legends of the Red Children (Pratt) 30 
 
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