Belmont chronicle. [volume] (St. Clairsville, Ohio) 1855-1973, 1883-02-01
AMERICAN AUTHORS AND
THEIR PRODUCTIONS.
Paper Read by Mrs. C. 4. Guliett,
Before the Association of Belmont
County Teachers, at st. Clairsville.
January 20, 1883.

The old Scotchman, who, in the simplicity
of his heart, exclaimed, Scotland seems to
have grown dearer to me since Burns wrote
his bonny little songs about her" realized,
although perhaps he never philosophical on,
the love of ones country awakened by her
literature.
If it be, there
'sBreathes man with soul 80 dead,
That never to himself has said,
This is my own, my native land,'
that man surely had never groWu familiar
with its woodlands, its household scenes, Its
history and philosophy, its hopes and happi>
ness, through ''the thoughts that breathe,
and words that hurn'' of its poets, essayists,
and historians.
The knowledge of our country cleaned
from our Biographies, school histories, and
daily newspapers, is not the true, pure knowl-
edge of her calculated to awaken the homage
of the heart 1t but gives US the idea of a
vast territory won by fierce struggles of brave
men to become the home of the trickster,
political jobber, and criminal.
To rightly rank her, rate her by her men of
letters-Edwards, Charming, Bryant, Long,
fellow, Whittier, Holland, Holmes, and q
score of others, whose lives pure and untar
nished, but gain added lustre when compared
with those whom Old England delights to
honor, and whose writings have hushed for
ever the taunting cry of the mother country,
"Who reads an American book?"
Would you rightly know her, you must,
sin the love of nature hold communion with
her visible forms" with Bryant, wandering
through the ''groves, Gods first temples"
finding the Fountain, ''springing on the
grassy slope" With his Sower, "Fling wide
the generous grain," hearing ''glad voices Of
81, ftar
With LOngfellow, read:
''Thst bright and glorious revelation,
Written all over this earth of ours,
Making manifest our own creation,
In these stars of earth, these golden flowers" I"
aye whose hearts are fresh and simple,
Who have faith In God and Nature,
Who believe, that in all ages
Every human heart is human,
That in even savage bosoms
There are longings, yearnings, strivings,
For the good they comprehend not,
Listen to the simple story,
To the song of Hiawatha."
"Ye who believe in affection that hopes, and
endures, and is patient" read the story of
Evangeline.
Would you enjoy one of the happiest of
home scenes, be with Whittier, Snow Bound
as Shut in from all the world without the
little family grouped about the broad old
hearth, where room was found for even the
district school-master, or shonld the cold No
coat, however stout OF homespun stuff, could
quite shut OUT chill your tropic blood, pitch
your Tent ON the Beach,
And in the sea waves drown the restless
pack Of duties, claims and needs that barked
upon your track. Make the acquaintance of
his Pennsylvania Pilgrim, with Maud Muller.
rake the meadow, sweet with hay
By this time, perhaps, you will have re-
ceived litcomb's Letters, become acquainted
with the Mistress of 'Mause, Kathrina, and
Arthur Bonnicastle. In them you will learn
the philosophy of pain.
Hearts, like apples, are hard and sour,
Ill crushed by pains resistless power,
They yield their juices, rich and bland,
10 none but sorrows heavy hand,
The pUrest streams of human love,
Flow naturally, never,
But glsh by pressure from above,
With Gods hand on the lever
Meet Emerson's Representative Men, laugh
with SAKE and Holmes, review your countrys