The Biglow Papers | Page 3

rear by provincialism of style and subject, the
author of the "Biglow Papers" holds his own place distinct from each
and all. The man who reads the book for the first time, and is capable of
understanding it, has received a new sensation. In Lowell the American
mind has for the first time flowered out into thoroughly original genius.
There is an airy grace about the best pieces of Washington Irving,
which has no parallel amongst English writers, however closely
modelled may be his style upon that of the Addisonian age. There is
much original power, which will perhaps be better appreciated at a
future day, about Fenimore Cooper's delineations of the physical and
spiritual border-land, between white and red, between civilization and
savagery. There is dramatic power of a high order about Mr.
Hawthorne, though mixed with a certain morbidness and bad taste,
which debar him from ever attaining to the first rank. There is an
originality of position about Mr. Emerson, in his resolute setting up of
King Self against King Mob, which, coupled with a singular metallic
glitter of style, and plenty of shrewd New England mother-wit, have
made up together one of the best counterfeits of genius that has been
seen for many a day; so good, indeed, that most men are taken by it for
the first quarter of an hour at the least. But for real unmistakable
genius,--for that glorious fulness of power which knocks a man down at
a blow for sheer admiration, and then makes him rush into the arms of
the knocker-down, and swear eternal friendship with him for sheer
delight; the "Biglow Papers" stand alone.
If I sought to describe their characteristics, I should say, the most
exuberant and extravagant humour, coupled with strong, noble,
Christian purpose,--a thorough scorn for all that is false and base, all

the more withering because of the thorough geniality of the writer.
Perhaps Jean Paul is of all the satirists I have named the one who at
bottom presents most affinity with Lowell, but the differences are
marked. The intellectual sphere of the German is vaster, but though
with certain aims before him, he rather floats and tumbles about like a
porpoise at play than follows any direct perceptible course. With
Lowell, on the contrary, every word tells, every laugh is a blow; as if
the god Momus had turned out as Mars, and were hard at work fighting
every inch of him, grinning his broadest all the while.
Will some English readers be shocked by this combination of broad
and keen humour with high Christian purpose--the association of
humour and Christianity? I hope not. At any rate, I would remind any
such of Luther, and of our own Latimer and Rowland Hill; are they
prepared to condemn them and many more like them? Nay (though it is
a question which can only be hinted at here), does not the Bible itself
sanction the combination by its own example? Is there not humour
mixed with the tremendous sarcasm of the old prophets--dread humour
no doubt, but humour unmistakably--wherever they speak of the
helplessness of idols, as in the forty-fourth and forty-sixth chapters of
Isaiah, and in Elijah's mockery of the priests of Baal:--"Cry aloud, for
he is a God; either he is talking, or he is pursuing, or he is on a journey,
or peradventure he sleepeth, and must be awakened." Is not the book of
Proverbs full of grave, dry, pungent humour? Consider only the
following passage out of many of the same spirit: "As the door turneth
upon his hinges, so doth the slothful upon his bed. The slothful hideth
his hand in his bosom, it grieveth him to bring it again to his mouth.
The sluggard is wiser in his own conceit than seven men that can render
a reason. He that passeth by and meddleth with strife belonging not to
him, is like one that taketh a dog by the ears."--Prov. xxvi. 14-17.
Or if it be objected that these things belong to an earlier covenant, that
laughter and jesting are "not convenient" under the Gospel of Him who
came not to destroy the law but to fulfil it, there is, perhaps, an answer
to this also.
For a specimen of subdued humour in narrative, adhering in the most

literal manner to facts, and yet contriving to bring them out by that
graphic literalness under their most ludicrous aspect, what can equal St.
Luke's description of the riot at Ephesus? The picture of the narrow
trade selfishness of Demetrius--of polytheism reduced into a matter of
business--of the inanity of a mob tumult in an enslaved country--of the
mixed coaxing and bullying of its officials, was surely never brought
out with a more latter vice, indeed, includes both the others, or rather
uses