The Louisiana Democrat. [volume] (Alexandria, La.) 1845-1918, 1886-08-18
THE PAN-GNOSTICS.

At the meeting of the Pangnostic club
on Wednesday last, Mr.. O. N. O. Watts
read the following beautiful essay
POETIC INSPIRATION IN AMERICA.
When we look back upon the pages of
History and call up in long review the
events of those olden days, the conflicts
between the regal powers for supremacy,
their scenes of war and peace represented
so fully by the plumed Knight on the one
hand, and the festal board on the other.
at which our ancestors told their won
drous tales of chivalry, passed around the
flowing bowl and laughed at the rude but
merry jests, we find that the poets of Il
later period took up the song where their
fathers left OFT, and have handed down to
future ages poems that tell of little less
than bloody carnage and exaggerated
deeds done by some musty ancient Knight.
But when peace had spread her white
wings DER the land, we find these old
tales growing sadly in the minority and
much out of fashion. The new poets sing
i'll milder, gentler strain. Then it was
hat they at'lned their halps to sing the
praises of their lady loves, to call forth
| he plaudits of their listeners by the re-
hearsal of poems telling the exploits of
soEe gallant soldier perhaps that gave his
life as 4 sacrifice to his country: not like
the olden Knight with his clanking spurs
and staggering air. Aud we know. too,
that many of their most excellent poems
were the offspring Of some event of pleas
IRE OF pain, Of the contemplation of some
deed of violence on the one hand that
f,,
their outraged feelings, or some deed of
Kindness on the other hand that gives
them true feelings of pleasure and de-
light. And, we can with justice say that
it is owing to such things in large meas
ure, that the poets power is awakened
from its state of lethargy. Perhaps the
grandest words that Milton ever uttered,
sprung into existence from his blindness,
or the tenderest words of pathos that ever
! came from the pen Of Allen Poe are only
known to rs as the offspring of IA grieved
and broken heart 1t was the shameful
actions of All ill-spent life that caused
Lord Byron to speak the sorrowfnl yet
most beautiful words of regret, as he look
ed back upon the past. Yes, we all know
that the most exquisite gems of poetry,
the loftiest and most thrilling eloqucnce
that has fallen from human lips, ALL all,
have owed their existence to some pre-eX-
isting event of pleasure or grief. So it is
with the influence exerted by the charms
of Nature, and we have only to point to
Burns to prove the assertion. And can
we not say that the same is true with re-
gard to our own poets Situated as this
country is. Nature has spread widely over
it her many gifts; countless phases of her
manifold appearance seem to have been
given it, whereby to lure the poets fancy,
to bring forth the hidden power therein
and to frame into words the emotions that
struggle to be free. From the icy regions
of the North to the golden fields of the
Middle States, thence to the orange
groves and cotton fields of the South we
may see Nature in her countless forms that
ever vary In their beauty. We often hear
it said that Kentucky was the specially
favored one when Nature distributed
around her gifts, but we find that Nature
has not forgotten the other States. Ohio,
indeed Virginia and others can boast of
beauties equally as great. Pastures of
blue grass, fields of golden grain, lofty
mountains and broad rivers-all bear wit
ness to the fact that in the central States
we find pleasures that increase as we con-
tinae to indulge in them. "For," the ar
dent admirer would say, 'it is only here
that we are reminded of the true beauty
of Nature, of her many hues and brilliant
garbs." Yes, tits true that we find in
these magnificent States, beauties that
are unsurpassed, that give us lively
sense of the greatness and goodness of
God, beauties that grow more bcanteous
as We look upon them. Here surely, the
poets fancy may roam content and ever
find newer and more pleasing themes for
reflection. Here Nature seems to lure the
eye, seems to entice us on and on, passing
from vine-clad wales to lofty mountains,
from ripping streamlets to wide and roll
ing rivers. And we pause ever and anon.
rs if transtixed to the spot by the bewitch-
ing beauty, to gaze upon these scenes Of
such exquisite makeup, and passing by
and even further to find ourselves sur
rounded by scenes more lovely and more
grand. And when the poet beholds all
this, they surely mnst exert an inf;uence
upon bis mind. And would it surprise us
that he should find in every spot, in tree,
and flower an unwritten poem that needs
only language to give in fuller terms their
loneliness to the world 7 Yes, and we
would be more than surprised, if he did
not give utterance to his thoughts in
verse. Twas here that George ID. Prem
tice strung his harp to sing Of his ''Old
Home" Amidst the melancholy gran
deur that surrounded it, he stood and
looked with fearful eye upon the home of
his childhood and revisited the scenes of
his youth. Enraptured, even spell-boaRd
by the magic scene, he trlsned away with
4 sadder heart, and composed those verses
of such pathetic sweetness. Go with me
to the bleak cold regions of the North,
where We find naught TO please the eye of
one used to milder climates. We look
upon the dreary waste, and shivering,
wish for the warmth of our Southern
homes. But how is it with the native!
To him these regions seem pleasure with
out an equal. He alone is impressed with
their true solemnity. To him this ssems
the grandest feature of Nature that by
The power Of Him above, streams cease to