Wilmington daily commercial. [volume] (Wilmington, Del.) 1866-1877, 1874-10-12

Then love and memory, Rand In hand,
Shall call this hour to mnd,
And val ly search departed years
such unmixed Joy 10 1nd
10 this, Miss Lamborn now, after the lapse |
of thirty years, under these changed circnm- |
stances, added the following lines
Here now we greet our early friend
With proud and grateful Joy,
remnant of the loving band
That gathered ronnu the boy.
Near this wide vale which by his pen
Has since been classic maue
In years gone by tn Sc voices rang
Throughout the rocky glade.
However rich the wreath of fame
hat Giro es rou d the row,
The pearl of greater pric- is still
The warm hearts generous glow.
After the reading of Miss Lanborn's verses,
Chandler Darlington, of Kenneth, said Stand
ing, as we do, on or near the bridge-way of Ezra
Metld.nhaus barn,I offer this sentiment inlay
love continue to rule, Lars to preach, and our
poet to write and sing, until the world shall be
filled with Love, Goodness, and Music"
Mr.. Taylor now arose, aud amid an apprecia-
tive silence, said
Old Friends and Neiqhbors: have great
deal to ray, yet feel t difficult to say anything
This demonsti alton Of welcome overwhelins me.
had only thought of n simple, Informal plc NC
IN the style OF the old days, with few friends
dining together amongst tue rocks in some PIC
turesque spot. have been very busy, and not
until this morning had tho thought occurred to
me that very probably might have 10 make
response to the welcome OF the occasion. turn
ed tho subject over in my mind, and dismissed all
che suggestions that arose feeling that nothing OF
winch 1 thought would be proper, and when
came 10 Wilmington, a suspicion oil tile character
uf the occasion began TO dawn upon me.
saw old trends with new hight in theii
faces, and new tones in their Voices, ahd mere
amidst so much hearty testimony OF welcome,
with my own lines greeting me as something
familiar and yet strange, am unable to say any
thing that seems adequate to express my feelilRr
| Only the mere words of thanks, that sound so
| hollow, are at command, aud when ray how
heartily thank Won, that seems after all, saying
| but little.
| Such a greeting l deem tho highest form OF
recognition an author can receive, Ito be 80 re-
| ceived by his friends and neighbors, who know
| all his life ard character, his weaknesseh and
shortcomings, but who perhaps do not always
see his aims and aspirations; who may lose III
their personal acquaintance with the Individual,
their appreciation Of the artist tins seemh
| to me the rarest honor, because the truest and
purest. / am glad 1t il not mere formal occa-
SION, but suoh as forms, really close, connden'
tal circle, where things said are said to friends
only, and not TO the great world listening ut the
| window. / will no speak. AZ a friend to his
friends face to face. Tho most grateful feature
of the occasion il its recognition OF what feel
to be my best work. And let ME assure you,
first, that this honor does not come to me TOO
late. If you feel that have deserved 1t, now,
know that have not deserved it sooner. II
is only IN the character of my later work that l
feel / have earned it, It. thirty years ago,
since first left home fol- Europe, and in three
months | shall be fifty. his IL the turning
point OF my life. While the springs oil Nature.
! feel are still fresh. and the enthusiasm oil
youth has not died out, still at this period, one
san look back and consider impartally his career
| en- years age, l saw that the work had thel
done had no permanent value, and did not eX
press what felt were my full powers as an atl-
thor. My books of travel had had q popularity
that deoevedmany OF my friends, but knew thal
they could not hold an enduring position III liter
aturo A travellers observations and descilp.
Uons stand only until some later traveller sees
more inteligently, or discovers moro, Or de-
scribes more agreeaby. They cannot emhody
the creative element, which is tho highest II
literature. therefore resolved to nov
mako good my lost time for my travels had
never been part of the purpose of my life
had undertaken them only to aid in my educa'
ton in criticism, poetry, ana the higher forms OF
. literary work. Now such decision to change
the character of my efforts wss like changing
front in battle--a Inanduvre, us you know, al
. ways full of danger. | knew that might lost
tho audience ! POSSESSED, before gaining tina
winch | hoped for. But determined upon my
7 course, and followed it, sustained by the recog
I milton and encouragement of the friends VIII
$1,000 QeAreEl me. DlDrt Ol Ill Alliii
!. ful companion of my hfe who in all my literar
a labors has been my good conscience, never aI
a proving what she saw was hasty and imperieG
= | work, yet never emitting or Withholding praist
: when the bert had boen done of which | wa
fpable.
During my last absence in the O'd World,
a | --aye worked harder than ever. In that period
h have written Lnis'--the poem vii u, eeeIns
n have had no small share in occasIonng tins we
y | come--a & History OF Geimaby,' and II dramat
lad mar
published, besides keeping upmy newspaper co
, reupoudence. The idea Of - Lars had been
t. my mind for seven years before the pubiicatic
A of the volume. but il any of my woik is to hay
= permanent place in Literature, it it that whiC
n have done within the last year or two
ar To be received thus blends the past Al
the future with the Illumination OF u
heart and will tell you about " Lars. II
~ story ~ entirely of my own invention. hay
N, always been Interested in the stony of the Swed
hi settlements on the Delaware, and remarkiI
ar that the earliest colonists here had been Sea
il, diuaylan people, who were followed by u
nj Friends, the idea long ago occurred to me
H. mako some puetlcal nso Of the subject Not un
,es my later visit to Northern Europe however, d
M | fluid clue, when discovered that there wa
he at Arendal, III the South Of Norway, aAetteme
a. 81 Friends, and the whole story grew in my MN
er to contrast the bold, rugged, Scandinavian chi
ri acter, with its - Berserker rage, and tho gent
re- aud spiritual people of peace. 1t IS urged, son
az times that have introduced tJo violent an in
d. dent into the poem, IN the duel with knives wi
nd belts hooked together, &C., but that belonged
the wild life of the NorwegIans Of the mnuutaii
Ito aud the duel, with the death Of ono of the co
nc batants, was necessary to the poem, in apsycl
an logical and spiritual sense, III order to show :
H. victory over IL rude and wild nature Of the pun
~ spiritual principle | wrote LIARS" Just 0
a., years ago at this time in the Autumn, and
an the scenes rose distinctly to my minds eye
Ia Tinicum island the shores Of the Delaware. "
,ro mington, the old churcl--as sat in my roo
nst IN Germany. / also remembered Hockessin,
the name had always fingered IN my mind II
.b. peculiar manner, and recalled to me the char
re. of its scenery--something picturesqe aud V
ma Il diversified beauty Now it IN q strange I
ms thas when in your book you have once create
nd character, and given him dit tinct form in "
file own mind he acquires separate existence, q
hat begins to do as lie will. So, when Lars had
'rIv rived at Philadelphia and come to linicum, q
ret. failing to find his ancestors, had reached v
the mngton he went on to Hockessin, himself
her could not hinder it
Of Once moro | thank you for day which
or stand in my memory, bathed IN its own sole
and sacred light. / give YOU my promise .
and the honor you have done me shall not be allt
nm ed to engender any vanity or over appreciat
"a of self. The occasion has a saicttv whlc
ion dare not profane by accepting 1t otherwise Il
/ to humbly and gratefully. | can best thank
and for it, by striving to do better work, hencefor
csc and if God gives me life, shall labor to deye
every power He has given me. to do the W
gho Which seems appointed to me, with the pra
on. that something in 1t may become portion
nor our literature, and may holp to cheer,
-, | ntrenpthau or IN elevate those who read VIII