and usages, may be fairly ascribed, in some degree, to the casual appearance of shipwrecked strangers. These scanty analogies, however, look towards Ásia as the point of migration of our aborigines.

But, notwithstanding the very remote period at which man, in his gradual diffusion, reached our continent, his eastern origin is sufficiently apparent in his physical characteristics. Although this point has been already adverted to, yet we will here adduce the evidence of several competent judges. "The American race," says Humboldt, "has a striking resemblance to the Mongol nations, which include those formerly called Huns, Kulans, and Kalmucks."-"We observed," says Barrow, speaking of the Brazilian Indians, "the Tartar or Chinese features, particularly the eye, strongly marked in the countenances of these Indians.” Of the Chiriguanos, a Peruvian tribe, Mr. Temple speaks thus: "Had I seen them in Europe, I should have supposed them to be Chinese, so closely do they resemble those people in their features." The testimony of many others equally decisive might be presented, but we will content ourselves with one more, viz., Mr. Ledyard, who speaks from extensive personal knowledge. Writing from Siberia to Mr. Jefferson, he says, "I shall never be able, without seeing you in person, and perhaps not then, to inform you how universally and circumstantially the Tartars resemble the aborigines of America. They are the same people-the most ancient and the most numerous of any other; and had not a small sea divided them, they would all have been still known by the same name."

A primitive branch of the human family, the American aboriginal race cannot be said to be derived from any nation now existing; but they are assimilated by so many analogies to the most ancient types of civilisation in the eastern hemisphere, that the character of their civilisation cannot be regarded as wholly indigenous. This uniformity is apparent in the monuments of these nations, whose temples were pyramids, and whose traditions are interwoven with cosmogonical fables, retaining the relics of primitive history. It thus appears that the same arts, cus

toms, religion, and institutions, carried, in the earliest ages of man's diffusion, into various parts of the globe, as for instance Egypt, China, Hindostan, and America, were subsequently so modified in each under the influence of causes the most diverse, that we can now discover only an approximation in their general features; and to the agency of these same local causes is to be ascribed, in a great degree, the modification of physical features and of moral and intellectual character, by which the leading varieties of mankind are distinguished.

The civilisation of the American nations may be considered as truly indigenous as that of Egypt. The ruined cities of Copan, Uxmal, Palenque, &c., point to an epoch that may be regarded as the primal seat of American civilisation; and from this centre, the march of mental culture extended south as far as Chile, and north to the borders of Canada, as indicated by the mounds and mural remains found in the region of the United States. These civilized nations, as already shown, were rich, populous, and agricultural; they were skilled in the arts of pottery, of dying cotton and wool, and manufacturing them into figured stuffs, and in the more refined knowledge of metallurgy and of sculpture. Their constructive talent is conspicuous in their extensive cities and fortifications; in their pyramids and temples, which are not exceeded by those of Egypt; and in their roads and aqueducts, which rival those of the Romans. They had a mental constitution adapted to scientific investigation, as indicated by their extensive and accurate mathematical and astronomical knowledge; and they were associated under regular forms of government, with a national religion under the direction of a priesthood.

Although American civilisation survived that of ancient Egypt, Phoenicia, and other Semitic nations, as illustrated in the splendor and luxury of Nineveh and Babylon; yet, like them, the day of its glory is no more. Throughout nature, the law of change is everywhere apparent. Even nations appear to have a period of growth, acmé, and decay. In this ceaseless mutation, the time would seem to have arrived, when the aboriginal of the American

hazards all for a great principle, a master-doctrine, should be strongly supported. A politician needs his backers as well as a pugilist, to give him heart and constancy. We never could understand the separation, upon which many insist, between the characters of the statesman and the private individual. We cannot distinguish the two different characters of the same person. A single mind impresses an unity of design upon all its performances, and an upright man should be governed by the same law of right and sense of duty, in his official position, that control his domestic and familiar actions. If we admire ability and trust to the unbiassed exercise of it, if we believe in the same creed and favor the same principles, how can we refrain from embracing the possessor of such talents, and the advocate of such doctrines, as a personal friend?

To come back to our text. Personality we affirm to be the most striking trait of the most brilliant political writing. Party spirit begets political satire. Along with its evident advantages, partisanship includes a spirit of bigotry that displays its worst features. "Party spirit incites people to attack with rashness, and to defend without sincerity. Violent partisans are apt to treat a political opponent in such a manner, when they argue with him, as to make the question quite personal, as if he had been present as it were, and a chief agent in all the crimes which they attribute to his party. Nor does the accused hesitate to take the matter upon himself, and in fancied self-defence, to justify things which other wise he would not hesitate, for one moment, to condemn."* Exact statements and precise deductions can hardly be expected when a man is making the most of his materials, and defending what he believes to be the true view, though it may have weak spots. From an article that has appeared elsewhere, we quote a few sentences that we are not sure could be better rewritten at present. "It is true that satirists have sometimes transcended the proper limits of truth and discretion; have calumniated where they should have calmly censured, and have written a libel instead

of a criticism. The most piquant satire is necessarily one-sided, and carried to the extreme verge of truth; at times overpassing it. Epigrams lose in point where they approach the truth. A moderate thinker is rarely to be found among professed wits. For, when a man comes to ponder and weigh opposite qualities and conflicting statements, to admit this excuse and allow that apology, when circumstance and occasion are considered, and, in a word, when we endeavor to strike a just balance of the actions and characters of men, he rarely can escape a trite conclusion or a mediocrity of argument. It is only where a point is driven home with force, when, to paint one trait vividly, the rest of the features are thrown into the shade, that brilliancy is attained at the expense of fidelity and a liberal construction."

In politics, as in most things, the most striking arguments are those ad hominem and ad absurdum. Ridicule serves too often for a test of truth; and though this delicate instrument may be perverted to great injury, yet we all know very well how many people can be laughed out of notions which could not be removed by the fairest and most conclusive argumentation. A laugh is the best logic for these. How many subjects, too, of no little detriment to a cause, though in themselves of diminutive importance, cannot be appropriately treated except in the way of jesting and raillery. The littleness of some men is far beneath aught but the levity of a squib or a pun; whereas the specific gravity (or, in plain terms, stolid presumption) of others, requires merely a superficial exposition, to make them ridiculous for ever.

There are other considerations that tend to confirm the usefulness of political satire. Much may be done indirectly that we cannot openly face and attack. An allegorical narrative may include real characters, which it might be imprudent to depict in express language. Bold, bad men, in power, may be scourged with impunity and poetic justice, by the dramatist and novel writer, when a faithful picture of them by a chronicler of the times would, in other days and lands than our own,

send him into duress. Existing public abuses which, from their intangible and irresponsible character, cannot always be publicly met, may still be so described in a work of fiction, as in time to effect a thorough popular reformation of them. Thus much at present for the value of the argument ad absurdum, of which we shall have something in the way of illustration to furnish before we conclude.

The argument ad hominem affects a man's interest, and appeals to his pride or excites his indignation, and moves his feelings. It is the most effective argument to be used with the majority of men, and when enlivened by comic ridicule, or exaggerated into something like vituperative eloquence by the presence of a Juvenal tone of sarcastic rebuke, it displays the perfection of political satire, and such as we find it in the most eminent instances.

The finest and most permanent sa tire, whether religious or political, has been conveyed in works of imagination, which, falling into the hands of the greatest number of readers, have consequently at the same time obtained universal reputation, and exercised the widest influence. Of this nature, especially, are the immortal works of Swift, "Gulliver's Travels," and "The Tale of a Tub," the most admirable union of exquisite satire and allegory. These may be most appropriately styled allegorical satires, to which may be added Arbuthnot's "John Bull," and our Paulding's imitation of it. The extravagance of unmitigated burlesque, however, does not in all respects become the true character of able political writing, which, when it does admit of satire, invariably demands that the wit be based on vigorous sense and logic, and that it appear rather in the form of great intellectual acuteness, sharpened by exercise, than in the guise of pure pleasantry or jesting without an aim. And here we may remark, that not a single political writer is to be mentioned, of any eminence, and who has a reputation for wit or humor, whose wit and humor is not founded upon great strength of under standing, shrewdness, and knowledge of mankind. Political wit admits of little play of fancy, and few or no imaginative excursions. In fact, it is only a livelier mode of stating an argument. 79

VOL. XI.-NO. LIV.

It is reasoning by pointed analogies or happy illustrations, a species of epigrammatic logic. This is the wit of Junius, of Horne Tooke, of Tom Paine, and of William Hazlitt. They sought to reach the reductio ad absurdum by the argument ad hominem. The accumulation of ridiculous traits of character made up a comic picture, and demonstrated practical absurdities in conduct at the same time. On the other hand, by a process of exhaustive analysis, they precipitated (as a chemist would say) the ludicrous points of a subject. Cobbett's wit consisted in calling nicknames with an original air. Satire is a prosaical talent, yet it has been exercised by some of the first poets in the second class of great poets, the most distinguished of whom we will refer to soon. It handles topics essentially unpoetical, and in a way that would deprive them of what poetical qualities they might possess. For satire tends to diminish and degrade, whereas true poetry aims to exalt and refine. Satire deals with the vices, the crimes of the worst part of mankind, or the levities and follies of the most insignificant. Much political satire exaggerates both, but that is the original sin and inherent defect of all satire. The value of satire in a practical point of view is great: it is the only curb upon many, and no ineffectual check upon the best. Next to religion, it exerts a happier and a wider influence than anything else, whether law, custom, or policy. Such is forcible and well-directed satire in the worthiest hands. It is a true manly style of writing, but it admits of wide aberrations from this standard, and may become hurtful and dangerous. It exposes hypocrisy and encourages an open, frank, fearless spirit; yet this very openness (in base natures) will run into recklessness and a contempt of authority, a neglect of propriety, and a rash avowal of lawless and foul doctrines. It may convert liberty into licentiousness. Then, again, satire is often unfair, morally unjust, or historically false. The acute perception of Butler, which, aided by his learned wit and matchless versification, saw with exactness, and has transmitted to us with picturesque fidelity, the mere canting, controversial, corrupt Presbyterians of his day, failed to recognize

the sturdy vigor of the Independent, and the sublime fanaticism of even the wildest of the Fifth Monarchy men. Even Scott, though he came much closer to the truth in his pictures, unconsciously distorted and caricatured some of the noblest features of the Puritans. That stern race of robust men has hardly yet met with its true histo

rian.

A too frequent consequence of successful satire, we have left for our last objection to its usefulness. It tends to beget a spirit of indifference. Men, looking on the excesses of either side with an eye of philosophic temperance, are too apt to conclude that there is nothing worth contending for; they become disgusted with what they (in their short-sightedness) esteem fruitless struggles, and give over all desire of victory. They become indifferent spectators of a stirring scene, and might as well, for all good purposes, be altogether removed from it.

In a former paper we promised to lay before the reader a catalogue raisonné of those poets who had been deeply concerned in contemporary politics, and whose writings had given an impulse to the parties they had respectively espoused. At present we can offer to occupy but a slight portion of this very wide general subject. Of this portion, even, we can present but a sort

of profile sketch, a mere outline. Hereafter we hope to enlarge our plan and enter more into detail.

From the time of Chaucer, English Poetry has been the firm friend and fast ally of Freedom. "The Mountain Nymph, Sweet Liberty," has inhaled the melodious airs and caught the mu sical breezes that float on "Parnassus" hill, and Truth has become the associate of Fancy. But it is only at a comparatively late period that an eminent example occurred of a partizan poet, of a political pamphleteer in verse. Perhaps Dryden may be placed at the head of this class, in point of time as well as in degree of excellence. Butler's mock heroic had more the tone of a general satire, though "of the court, courtly," the text book of the witty king and his lively courtiers. "Glorious John,” however, was the first poetical special pleader and rhyming controversialist we can refer to, who was a master in his department. In Church or State, he was almost equally at home.* His most celebrated satire, Absalom and Achitophel, is a masterpiece, and contains three characters, Absalom, (the Duke of Monmouth), Achitophel (the Earl of Shaftesbury), and Zimri, (the Duke of Buckingham), superior to the classic portraits of Pope. It includes, besides these, vigorous reasoning, occasional fanciful imagery, pointed re