The commonwealth. (Greenwood, Miss.) 1896-1923, 1905-05-26
. SHORT SKETCH OF SOUTHERN
WRITER'S.
BY ANNIE HUGHES.

read In countries, both far and near,
and that much praise has been given to
the gifted writer's of u Southland.
Our writer's should be compared with
those Of other sections and other coun-
tries; due honor should be given them,
ebually reno we'd from over-praise and
from depreciation. II we, their coun-
trymen, do not know and honor them,
who a be expected to do so? No peo-
pie are great whose memory is lost.
Who looks not reverently back to true
beginnings and hopefully forward to a
grand future, Whose interests centre
In the present alone). Men pass away;
monuments crumble into dust-what re-
mains and survives is human thought.
Although our most important writer's
have passed away, there are yet some
great and thinking minds in our Sec
ton and we can never collect too much
Of their writings nor ponder over them
too carefully. There is no ground for
encouragement In our literature for the
South has many geniuses. The intel
lect, which among us now chooses its
field of work with so much success in
things essential for the development Of
the country and people, might under
settled and natural conditions, achieve
corresponding triumphs in literature,
and the day for such achievements will
doubtless come. We will not seek to
anticipate it, for eminence in letters
seldom comes until eminence in other
respects begins to decline,
In the primeval forests Of old Virginia,
where trees and vines luxuriant in
their beauty, standing where the great
hand Of nature planted them, and where
the bright birds fitted to and fro, as
free and fearless as the air, lived our
first writer, Capt. John Smith. AL
though he and others of our early writ
ers have left us thrilling accounts Of
colonization, yet their writings we're OF
no value except in a political way.
However, it is said that one of our early
writer's, VIM. strachey, In his descrip-
tion Of "A Storm OF the Bermudas," sug-
gested to Shakespeare the scene of the
storm in his Tempest, while Audubon,
. native Of Louisiana, by his works on
"Bird Life" gained a European reputa-
ton.
Once as yet and once only has there
sounded out Of all America, n pure
note Of original song, worth singing; a
note neither too wide nor deep, but ut
terly true, rich, clear and native to the
singer; the short exquisite music, sub
tie and simple, sombre and sweet Of Ed
gar Allen Poe. In him is found one Of
the finest scholars; n of the most
original men Of genius; and n Of the
most industrious in the literary profess
sion Of u country. His works hold the
first place in our literature, and In the
eyes Of foreigners he is considered the
most gifted Of all Authors Of America.
Poe's mind was indeed a Haunted Pal
ace" echoing to the footballs Of angels
and demons. His works though artistic
In finish, and powerful in theme, are of
such o nature as to make one shudder.
They do not touch the heart, for they
do not come from it, moi are they aimed
at 1t. Their workmanship is, in many
respects, as nearly perfect as it can be
made. The best of them could scarcely
be improved, in structure, in proper
| ton and in artistic effect. He had many
faults and it may be that his critics are
somewhat unjust for in these twentieth
century days Of lavish recognition of
genius, what rewards might not a Poe
claim?
The names Of Poe and Lanier have
been associated in that they have more
Of this quality denominated genius than
any others Of the south. Lanier, who is
known ~ the poet musician OF the
South, has aptly been called the "poet
Of sunshine, for his works are full Of
love, sunshine, hope and good cheer
With him beauty is purity and purity
must be beauty. Some who praise Ian
ier's poetry do not approve OF 1t be-
cause they do not understand his thee.
ry, just because Al Tennyson's poems
bear the mark Of Tennyson so do the
poems OF Lanier bear his mark. Many
/ beauties might be called from his verse
but there is a vision Of wood and SIX!
, and a breath Of the sea in his bes
I long poems which must be taken in full
l II n would feel the sweep Of his fight
!. As the pen falls from his dying grasl
we catch the bright song:
"Yonder beside Thee,
My soul shall float, friend sun,
: The day being done"
"The Conquered Banner" by FatheI
, Ryan, our poet priest, Is an eloquen
lament over defeat, bringing out tn
pure thoughts Of the writer and sho"
% ing him y 8 great lover Of his hou'