works is a volume entitled "Democracy and Other Addresses. He was not an orator so much as a refined and scholarly speaker. He spoke in an earnest, conversational tone, depending upon the weight of his utterance to secure the attention and interest of his hearers. He made no use of gesture. He did not soar to the heights of impassioned utterance, of which we must believe him to have been capable. He did not movẹ a great popular assembly, but to the scholarly and cultivated he was a delightful speaker.

Lowell lived beyond the allotted age of three score and ten. His latter years were sweetened by the tribute of honor and love which a great people united in paying him. He died Aug. 12, 1891, recognized at home and abroad as a man of high gifts and noble character. He is, perhaps, our best representative man of letters. An English critic has fairly expressed the feeling abroad: "No poetic note higher or deeper than his, no aspirations more firmly touched towards lofty issues, no voice more powerful for truth and freedom, have hitherto come to us from across the Atlantic."

JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER.

WHITTIER has been called the Burns of New England; and that title is not without justification. He owed the first awakening of his poetic talent to the Scottish bard; and, like him, he has cast a glory over the homely scenes of his native region. In the choice of his themes he is less a national than a sectional poet. Less cosmopolitan than Longfellow and Lowell, he is pre-eminently the poet of New England. It is the spirit, the legend, and the landscape of New England that are reflected in his verse.

John Greenleaf Whittier sprang from Quaker ancestry, and the memory of the wrongs inflicted upon his sect at an earlier day never left him. He was born near the town of Haverhill, Mass., Dec. 17, 1807. The house was an old one, surrounded by fields and woods; and in front of it, to use the poet's words, a brook "foamed, rippled, and laughed." The Merrimac River was not far away. He helped to till an unfriendly soil, and in his leisure hours he wandered over the hills or loitered along the streams.

He

Like Franklin, Whittier was a self-made man. His early education was limited to brief terms in the district school. was fond of reading, but his father's library contained only a score of tedious volumes. For a number of years the Bible was his principal resource for history, poetry, and eloquence; and encouraged and aided by his mother, he made its literary and religious treasures a permanent possession.

In spite of the meagre advantages of his frugal home, as compared with our present opulence of books and papers, he had the wealth of exuberant life and observant eyes. Nature became his inspiring teacher. In "The Barefoot Boy," with its childhood memories, he says:

"I was rich in flowers and trees,
Humming-birds and honey-bees;
For my sport the squirrel played,
Plied the snouted mole his spade;
For my taste the blackberry cone
Purpled over hedge and stone;
Laughed the brook for my delight

Through the day and through the night."

The monotony of the hospitable farmhouse was relieved now and then by the visits of peddlers. Strolling people were looked on more indulgently then than now. When Whittier

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was fourteen years old his first schoolmaster brought to the Quaker home a volume of Burns, from which he read, to the boy's great delight. It kindled the poetic fire within. "I begged him to leave the book with me," the poet said years afterwards, "and set myself at once to the task of mastering the glossary of the Scottish dialect at its close. This was

about the first poetry I had ever read (with the exception of that of the Bible, of which I had been a close student), and it had a lasting influence upon me. I began to make rhymes myself, and to imagine stories and adventures.”

In 1826 Whittier made the acquaintance of William Lloyd Garrison, who exerted no small influence upon his subsequent career. Garrison had established the Free Press at Newburyport. A poem contributed by young Whittier so impressed him with its indications of genius that he visited the Quaker lad in his home, and warmly urged a cultivation of his talents. The visit was not fruitless. The gifted youth resolved to obtain a better education; and to acquire the necessary means, which his father was not able to supply, he learned the art of shoemaking. In 1827 he entered the Academy in Haverhill, and by his genial nature and his literary ability quickly attained a position of distinction.

After two terms at the Academy and a brief interval of teaching, he served an apprenticeship to the literary craft by editing or contributing to several newspapers. His writings,