Nashville daily patriot. [volume] (Nashville, Tenn.) 1855-1857, 1856-11-05
For the Nashville Patriot
"Newspaper Poetry"
q. VIRGINIA rRrNcB.l

VIZ. OSihSu OidSe VI PNASSu19 -
0racles Of their sge. to rather ridicule the SUBJ
ject which heads this newspaper article" We
need not ask have we a wissdere amongst usf q"
-ene who disdsius even 10 read newspaper poe
try" because we know that there are many who
would fain have us believe that they carry their
conteapt thus demonstrating themselves judges
nevertheless. Is this just to our authorss Ia it
complimentary to our publishers? Does it evince
discrimination on the part Of the critics We think
rot. True il ia that we have much poetry $50
raled,) which is utterly vaIueless such, but is
that reason why we should condemn It IN toto
Shall We destroy the whole gems of flowers because
some Of them possess neither beauty fragrance!
Shall decry the entire race of birds because the
notes of not few are devoid Of melody?
"a change has come over the spirit" OF Poetry
in this our day,-and let not those who have only
glanced at the surface Of things assert that it is
not q change for the better. The bold aud stk
ing features which humanity exhibits in its ruder
aspect, not to be sung with truthfulness and
taken home to the heart in an age Of civilization
The passions which stand out ia Shakspeare's char
acters like the muscular developments of Michael
Angeles statues, are not seen aud felt around US
now in everyday life. 1t is pleasant to read Of
them, for like the earnest eyes of the old female
portraits where the daring soul looks through
like the armOr and plumes Of the knightly Crusader
they bring us intelligence of mighty and a ruder
Past. But as well might we attempt to create
soul under the ribs Of Death" as to seek to revive
the passions, the sympathies, the strong and half
baroaric heart of a by-gone age, in the statuesque
body of the Present. We are a different people
and need different utterance. The change
which has come upon the spirit of Poetry, is in
accordance with the spirit of the age. 1t is conn
mon among many to lament over this 'change" as
though it were Of necessity degeneracy. We
may be in error, yet we cannot but think that a
foolish pride of consistency has much to do with
the opinions of such. They have been educated
in the old epcs, like politicians in their party"
or our painters after the "od masters" or our
sculptors in the Greek "models; E" until they are
actually afraid to deviste from them. Most proba
bly, in their own hearts they prefer the change"
yet they dare not say They have ignoble
fear of appearing undecided they dread the accu-
sation of Inconsistency. They can be nsincere with
themselves but not inconsistent with former expres
sed opinions. This is not true consistency, but real
moral cowardice. 1t requires certain herOism to
be sincere in this our day, and that courage they
do not possess consistency" says Emerson,
"is the hObgobln of little minds" and great
poet has declared that constancy is not virtue,
but a fact" No one when accused of inconsistency
should be either afraid or ashamed, if be be able
conscientiOusly to give the noble reply,
"Ny minds the same
II ever was to you Where find right
IloVe the keeper hHhe let it 90,
And then JoItow ii
We must remember that scholarship is not now
what it once was, the property of the exclusive and
privileged few; and mankind are no longer divided
INTO two extreme classes, the profoundly learned,
and the profoundly ignorant, There is a majority,
a great medium class, whose intellects have been
awakened by our system of public education, aud
improved by an intercourse with books aud vet
who have no time to enter upon fields Of extensive
erudilion, or to make themselves familiar with poe
try in black letter folios. We have become as it
we're a nation of D5mases, and if we attend at all
to the gospel of Poesy, it must be in brief intervals
between the cnking of dollars. and the rustling Of
bank bills. Il has become an impossibility for an
individual attend to his her regular vocation
and at the same time keep up with thecu lte~
nature OF the day. To this class, then,-the Work
ers, Poesy has (f you wi,) come down. If she
has failed to lead their souls upwards the heights
of her pure empyrean, she las taken upon herself
the likeness of fesh," and uniting the distinct
natures Of divinity and humanity, come down to
earth to teach them. She has not disdaiued TO as
sumo a garb suited to this immense multitude
She has thrown aside the stately robes of the epic
cast down the ponderous armor of the heroic, laid
off the mask and mantle of the dramatic, and taken
the soft eyes of the spirit of home;-the white
wings of the thought,ange who goes down into the
depths Of the great popular heart, and so srs its
secret fountains that the spirit of healing shall rise
from rs troubled waters. The hurry of life at pres
ent prevents the majority of the worlds tired den
liens" from sitting down to dream csntos, and
"he who runs may read" The modern writer
shows by bis very language that he is possessed OF
the progressive devil Of an advancing age. The
reader is like him. lie dares not inger by the way
but presses forward to the conclusion by the most
direct route.
This is the newspaper era We may choose
10 stigmatEe it as "day of small things, lit has
its broad mission nevertheless. The rays of the
summer mooo how noiseess and how gentle they
are,-yet they sway the swelling tides ofthe mighty
and mysterious sea. The drops Of summer dew
how softly and silently they fall, down through
darkness too yet they refresh and vivfy the world
Newspapers exert a mightier influence upon the
world OF opinion than quastos of ethics, or foos of
metaphysics, for the simple reason that they are
more read, and better understood. There is no
home however humble, there is no home however
high, where intelligence and virtue reside, and the
"lamiy paper" is denied entrance. Nor are the
little lyrics il contains without effect Epic and
dramatic poetry, because they are not entwined
with our individual interests, may be buried aud
forgotten, not SO with the Song. It's tones too
often strike upon the deep cords Of the heart, its
home is in the bosom of man. Said excellent Judge
human nature "Let me but make the songs OF a
nation, and care not who makes its laws" The
eagle launches forth from his eyrie to meet the SUM-
soon he is lost amid the clouds, and forgotten
but how do We love and cherish the red breast and
the blue bird that carol round the cottage caves
till their songs make blthe and tuneiul both the
homestead ard the heart
Bell in bis Philosophy Of Expression" asserts
tina. there is no such thing as enjoyment Of alb
stract nature, but We people every scene from the
Imagination, the heart, and this is the secret of
their enehantment. So perhaps with poetry. We