And that it is beginning to be raised there to some extent by
the labor of free German emigrants. [Footnote: One small town in Texas
made eight hundred bales last year by free labor.] Will not something
eventually grow out of this? I trust so. Even the smallest chink of
light is welcome in a prison, if it speak of a possible door which
courage and zeal may open. I cannot as yet admit the justness of the
general proposition, that it is an actual sin to eat, drink, or wear
any thing which has been the result of slave labor, because it seems
to me to be based upon a principle altogether too wide in extent. To
be consistent in it, we must extend it to the results of all labor
which is not conducted on just and equitable principles; and in order
to do this consistently we must needs, as St. Paul says, go out of the
world. But if two systems, one founded on wrong and robbery, and the
other on right and justice, are competing with each other, should we
not patronize the right?
I am the more inclined to think that some course of this kind is
indicated to the Christian world, from the reproaches and taunts which
proslavery papers are casting upon us, for patronizing their cotton.
At all events, the Quakers escape the awkwardness of this dilemma.
In the evening quite a large circle of friends came to meet us. We
were particularly interested in the conversation of Mr. and Mrs.
Wesby, missionaries from Antigua. Antigua is the only one of the
islands in which emancipation was immediate, without any previous
apprenticeship system; and it is the one in which the results of
emancipation have been altogether the most happy. They gave us a very
interesting account of their schools, and showed us some beautiful
specimens of plain needlework, which had been wrought by young girls
in them. They confirmed all the accounts which I have heard from other
sources of the peaceableness, docility, and good character of the
negroes; of their kindly disposition and willingness to receive
instruction.
After tea Mr. S. and I walked out a little while, first to a large
cemetery, where repose the ashes of Dr. Watts. This burying ground
occupies the site of the dwelling and grounds formerly covered by the
residence of Sir T. Abney, with whom Dr. Watts spent many of the last
years of his life. It has always seemed to me that Dr. Watts's rank as
a poet has never been properly appreciated. If ever there was a poet
born, he was that man; he attained without study a smoothness of
versification, which, with Pope, was the result of the intensest
analysis and most artistic care. Nor do the most majestic and
resounding lines of Dryden equal some of his in majesty of volume. The
most harmonious lines of Dryden, that I know of, are these: -
"When Jubal struck the chorded shell,
His listening brethren stood around,
And wondering, on their faces fell,
To worship that celestial sound.
Less than a God they thought there could not dwell
Within the hollow of that shell,
That spoke so sweetly and so well."
The first four lines of this always seem to me magnificently
harmonious. But almost any verse at random in Dr. Watts's paraphrase
of the one hundred and forty-eighth Psalm exceeds them, both in melody
and majesty. For instance, take these lines: -
"Wide as his vast dominion lies,
Let the Creator's name be known;
Loud as his thunder shout his praise,
And sound it lofty as his throne.
Speak of the wonders of that love
Which Gabriel plays on every chord:
From all below and all above,
Loud hallelujahs to the Lord."
Simply as a specimen of harmonious versification, I would place this
paraphrase by Dr. Watts above every thing in the English language, not
even excepting Pope's Messiah. But in hymns, where the ideas are
supplied by his own soul, we have examples in which fire, fervor,
imagery, roll from the soul of the poet in a stream of versification,
evidently spontaneous. Such are all those hymns in which he describes
the glories of the heavenly state, and the advent of the great events
foretold in prophecy; for instance, this verse from the opening of one
of his judgment hymns: -
"Lo, I behold the scattered shades;
The dawn of heaven appears;
The sweet immortal morning sheds
Its blushes round the spheres."
Dr. Johnson, in his Lives of the Poets, turns him off with small
praise, it is true, saying that his devotional poetry is like that of
others, unsatisfactory; graciously adding that it is sufficient for
him to have done better than others what no one has done well; and,
lastly, that he is one of those poets with whom youth and ignorance
may safely be pleased. But if Dr. Johnson thought Irene was poetry, it
is not singular that he should think the lyrics of Watts were not.
Stoke Newington is also celebrated as the residence of De foe. We
passed by, in our walk, the ancient mansion in which he lived. New
River, which passes through the grounds of our host, is an artificial
stream, which is said to have been first suggested by his endlessly
fertile and industrious mind, as productive in practical projects as
in books.
It always seemed to me that there are three writers which every one
who wants to know how to use the English language effectively should
study; and these are Shakspeare, Bunyan, and Defoe. One great secret
of their hold on the popular mind is their being so radically and
thoroughly English. They have the solid grain of the English oak, not
veneered by learning and the classics; not inlaid with arabesques from
other nations, but developing wholly out of the English nationality.
