The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1878-09-05
An Era For q New Poet.

are no young singers to take the places Of
such venerable bards as Whittier Dana,
Emerson, Longfellow, and Walt Whit
man, who must in the course of nature
soon follow Bryant. And when Holmes
and Lowell depart in the fulness of years,
their death will threaten the close of an
era in American literature. 1t is true
there are minor poets of promise, like
Howells and Stedman, but they are both
advanced into middle age and have not
yet made distinct impression on the
consciousness Of their generation. They
have grown up in the shadow of the
earlier race of poets, and seem to have
been obscured from the sunshine of pop
ular favor and stunted in their growth by
the "harpers hoar" of our primeval liter,
allure.
The time is thoroughly ripe for strong
original genius. The people have grown
somewhat weary of the old songs, and
though they have not ceased to love and
honor the singers, they stop to listen oc-
casionally, amid the hum of their busy
avocations, for a new strain.
Richard Henry Dana had only one rev.
citation of music to make, and that was
X
OF to-day were boys.
Whittier's lyric tones, pure, clear and
powerful as they are, have grown some
what monotonous since they ceased to be
battle hymns in. the crusade against
slavery,
Longfellow is ever exalted, learned and
harmonious, but the compass of his harp
is familiar: and he has never touched it
so effectively as when long ago he chanted
the pastoral strains of "Evangeline."
Walt Whitman has poured out his in
expressible yearnings in chaotic verse,
and given the world uncouth passion in
stead of art but his theory of poetry is
now no longer strange, and all his wild
fancies have been caught and classified.
The humor of Holmes is getting
little less satisfying because less unex-
pected than it once was. We can tell
just the quantity and quality of it which
may be looked for on any given occasion.
His lyrics are always vigorous and fanci
full, and no man has ever handled the
heroic metre with more ease, but poets
mission is done when he can only re pro-
duce his typical poems.
Lowell has passed through various
stages of development, and his latest
odes have surprised even his admirers by
their melody, variety and manly vigor.
1t is not too much to say that he is the
only poet in the country, young or old,
whom new revelation of power would
not be looked upon as sort of miracle.
In England matters are no better.
Tennyson did his best work years ago.
IT Ill,
Hail." with their companion pieces, are
the natural expression of his genius. He
has done little since the first four "Idyls
of the King" were published to add to
his fame. He seems to be unconscious
that he has run through the compass of
his notes, and has for some years been
beating out themes unfit for his harp
He has not chosen TO initiate the wise re-
serve of the Roman who laughingiy re-
fused to launch his lyric bark on the sea
of epic poetry.
Browning has committed a grave error,
for he has allowed hostile criticism to
confirm him in slovenly habits of versifi-
cation, and has deliberately made harsh
Whatever artistic sense he once had is
degenerated into simple slipshod habit
of putting down every fancy that crosses
his caprcious mind, in or out of connec-
ton with the subject with which he is
dealing. He has forgotten, to use an old
metaphor, that statue comes out as the
sculptor cuts away the marble, and there
fore he often loses the adequate express
sion of thought by failing to knock off
the mass of whimsical rubbish out of
which he fetches it. With the Iarest
powers of condensation in expression, he
has lost all power of condensation in con-
struction; and poetry must be packed
close in both words and form if it is in
tended to outlast the wear of ages-easily
transmitted and not easily broken. In
word, Tennyson and Browning have done
their best work; upon whom is the man
tie of song to falli Swinburne might be
worthy to succeed them if the promise of
his youth could be fulfilled; but his gen
Jus is tainted with an intemperance that
threatens to eat into its core, and he is
the fool of habits which have cut off more
than one poet in his prime. He has the
capabilities of master singer, and yet
his influence upon artmay be so evil that
we could almost wish the influence less.
Even the promise Of Swinburne, original,
prolific melodious, but thus far sweetly
monotonous in his songs, does not pre-
vent the anticipation of the approach of
period barren in the production of Eng
fish poetry. If there be a new bard
among men in the New World or the
Old, he is certainly keenly desired, and
his paths are certainly made straight
before him.-N. Y. World,
"UNCLE" SOMEBODY'S vrsrT TO AN ART