The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1870-06-09

the mob of gentlemen and ladies who write
with such alarming ease in the South all
design to draw their inspiration from ''the
scoriac rivers that roll their sulphurous cur
rents down Yaanek, the state of affairs is
appalling and must be looked to at once.
The Wertherian and Byronic epidemics in
our fathers days were disastro rs; but what
are we to do if the Southern school girls and
boys, instead of going into well-conducted
offices or shops, permanently abandon them
selves to 'the mad pride of intellectually"
or to wandering down ghoul-haunted wood
lands with Psyche their soul
Such catastrophe really seems imminent.
A crop of novelists, poets, and essayists has
sprung up in the South since the war thick as
mushrooms after a rain. There is, too, a
constant boastful attempt to parade and thrust
them en- mdSse upon our notice. The latest
compilation contains two hundred and forty
writer's, all living, and with the great maj ority
of them Poes poems seem actually to have
constituted the sole literature with which
they were acquainted The compilation is
worth attention, as it gives very fairly an in
sight into the present intellectual condition
of the South as developed in literature. The
editor indulges, from preface to fnis, in a
perpetual cackle of delight. He marshals
his host from Mrs. Southworth to the callow
fledgling who has chirped feebly once or twice
in the county newspaper, as the immortas at
whose coming the ancient masters, Greek as
well as English, will hasten to yield their long
held thrones. When we know that this Mrs.
Southworth and the author of St. Elmo Gas
the ''De Stael of America'!) lead this troop
we can have very fair conception of their
rank and quality.
There is something pitiable to us in all
this. We cannot laugh at the proud display
of 'keen satires written by young ladies as
graduating odes," at the wild confusion of
''scintilating gleams-zephyrs freighted with
perfume-horror-g r-glares-magnolia blooms
the tragedies about Greek maidens, Scandi-
navian gods, or Aztec prophets, that rush
pell-mell out of the brains of this people
when the first outlet of pen and ink is given
them. If now and then glimpse of plain
natural feeling appears, the editor hastens
to apologize for the homeliness, and turns
us to some author Intensely Southern"
by which he means, he tells us, abound
ing in uncontrolled emotion, clothed in
tropical drapery." What can be done
with these people Is it worth while
to sit down and reason with them? to tell
them that vague gaspings for thought,
without definite thought in the brain, and
the utterance instead of a weak dribble of
flamboyant adj jectives, is not literature? Can
they understand that never to have spent
more than two hours in writing the longest
effort of his muse" does not ''speak volumes
for the genius of Mr.. Flash, but accounts for
the effusions so worthy of his name. Are
Bombast and Gush ineradcablei in their nature?
When, in the language of one of themselves,
''the amber-hued Falernian of truth and the
aromatic Tokay of passion are set before
them, must they always choose the Tokay?
We chose to be more hopeful about our
Southern brethren, and to reject this book,
and in fact any recent Offering they have
made to literature, as fair sign of their in
tellectual status. Surely the experience of
the last ten years has taught them sterner and
nobler lessons than this mawkish sentimen-
tality. During the war their actions proved
them to be brave men and resolute, long en-
| during women. 'They learned in suffering, "
says our editor, ''what they here teach in
| song" Suffering such as theirs ordinarily
| teaches very little song, but a large amount
of sound common sense; and however much
their literature may belle them, we believe
they learned the lesson. 1T was Ares who
| led them to Athena, says their euogist,
explaining the sudden appearance of
| Southern writers after the war. Heaven
| forbid that the dragons teeth should yield
another such crop! But the truth is, we be-
| lieve that the books which have inundated us
are no exposition of Southern thought or
feeling, but so many attempts to make
| money. The first mode of money making to
| which an educated person turns when thrown
| on his own resources is almost invariably au-
thorship. They would shrink from attempt
ing to make table or a chair, yet they go to
work boldly at novel, essay, or poem, without
materials, tools, or knowledge of even the
rudiments of art. Our Southern friends, we
trust, as more ways of earning a livelihood
open to them, will seek their mistake; and
then, when time has made real their new and
broader views of life, we may hope for a
literature from them that will be as genuine
| lcI. - hi.
| these crude efforts are frothy and worthless.
BROTHERS OF THE MYSTIC TIE.
| From the NJ Y. Times.