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Page 11 text:
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Walt Whitman is the rhythmic apostle of our democracy.
Not only were these two representative types contemporaneous,
but both alike were rugged in nature, begotten of the same native rugged
soil. "Well, he looks like a man," said Lincoln when he first saw Whit-
man. And when Lincoln fell, how magnificently did Whitman sing his
elegy in "Captain, O My Captain". '
i Did you ever transplant yourself on a lovely spring morning from
your comfortable home to the untrodden part of the forest along the
Meramec? How your very soul is enraptured! You are unable to
analyze the charm, yet the charm is undeniably there. So you feel when
you come to Walt Whitman. Whitman can easily contend for first
honors as the genius of American nationality. Our turbulent demo-
cracyg our faith in the future, our huge mass movements, our continen-
tal spirit, our sublime, if unkept nature lies back of Walt Whitman, and
are implied in all his work. As Emerson vividly wrote, "Americans
abroad may now come home, unto us a Man is born !"
Whitman has been accused of silliness and of blasphemy. These
things may be trueg yet, in the sandy wastes of his innumerable lines,
there is a wealth of scattered gold, never sifted out by him, yet gold, un-
mistakable gold. Now and then Whitman incorporates a handy or
high sounding word from some other language. Perhaps he did this to
signify our composite democracy, and to teach that the whole world is
the mother of our country.
Yes, they may be crude, perhaps, but Whitman's rhapsodies are
"diamonds in the rough, virgin gold in unwrought nuggets".
How wonderfully large is Whitman's enthusiasm for mankind! His
scorn for all but real things: his faith and his hope, and his love!
As regards the form of what he writes, Whitman can find no author-
ity superior to himself. There is a very powerful and majestic rhyth-
mical sense throughout his writings, prose and verse, and this rhyth-
mical sense is original and inborn. One feels that although no count-
ing of syllables will reveal the mechanism of his music, the music is
surely there. His rhythm, so often burlesqued, is all of a part with the
man and with his ideas. It is apparently confusedg really it is most
carefully schemed, certainly to a high degree original. It has a great
booming movement or undertone, like the sound of a heavy surf.
Call this poet uncouth, inarticulateg whatever you please that is
least orthodox, yet after all, he is the only one who points out the stuff
of which, perchance, the American literature in the future may be made.
The appearance of such a man as Whitman involves deep world forces
of race and of time. Can we not then safely say that the one mountain
thus far in our literary landscape is Walt Whitman?
-Margaret M. H orchitz.
Page 10 text:
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stantly. He worked slowly but the results obtained were well worth
the while. He was his own severest critic and had that infinite patience
which goes back over a thing, and over it, again and again until it is
satisfactory to himself. St. Gaudens often worked for days over a statue
that had received the approval of the purchaser, because it did not seem
just right to him. And when it did seem right to him, it was sure to be
right, because he had a fineness of judgment that is given to few artists.
Like all truly great men, St. Gaudens was never obtrusively present
in a throng. He was, in fact, rather diflident. But he had his own
opinions on all subiects and when called upon could express them forc-
ibly. His temper when aroused was terrific and because of his nervous-
ness and excitability it was roused not infrequently.
However, he had a fine sense of humor, which he may have inher-
ited from his Irish mother, and such humor is the saving grace of Amer-
St. Gaudens had that unusual greatness which is able to completely
submerge itself to do honor to his hero. It was his remarkable-power
to feel his subject, however, and his ability to translate that feeling to us
that makes us stand in awe before his works. They seem to be rather
the expression of an overpowering sentiment than an effort to produce
a work of art. They suggest the big thought behind the whole thing,
rather than just one instance, as in his Civil War portrayals. One seems
to feel the big issues at stake in the struggle, just by seeing his "Lin-
coln" or his "Sherman".
And this bigness is the bigness of St. Gaudens himself 3 of a mind
great enough to encompass a universe, of a heart sublime enough to
sympathize with it. He was as truly a great man as he was a great
sculptor, since a gift such as his, without ceaseless toil and ready will-
ingness to take advantage of opportunities, would never have attained
Surely, in the gallery of great Americans the scu1ptor's place should
be filled by Augustus St. Gaudens.
W a I I W fi i i m a n
as yet produced a distinctive type Has our soil, our at
5 mosphere the necessary wherewithal to form beings whom
' ' we can recognize as our own, formed out of the absorption
f. of so many different nationalities that pour into this "melt-
From this conglomerate mass came an Abraham Lincoln, and as
Lincoln typiFies,to us the distinctive American in the political arena, so
ave often heard it questioned as to whether America has
A n Q Q . o -
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Page 12 text:
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Henry Ward Beecher
was during the War of 1812. Darkness had settled like a
t gg pall over our peaceful land. But a little ray of sunshine
town of Litchfield. This was not the only ray that had
come to the home of Dr. Lyman Beecher, for seven such
beams had preceded it: but this last was destined to bring
undying fame to this humble home, the birthplace of Henry Ward
Under motherly care and watchfulness, this son grew and became a
man. Nature, too, favored him by holding him to the soil, until his
strength and ambition united and broke the bonds that held him.
Henry Ward Beecher was a man of great resources and magnetic
personality. His one recreation lay in his search for a task so much
larger than the last that there was no comparison between the two.
Think a moment of a man with a broad smiling face, so full of kind-
ness and strength, that he drew you to him when you first looked upon
him, for you knew that his heart was warm with love for you. They
say he never could reflect, but just felt, and felt with you, and put his
feelings into burning words and deeds of kindness. It is one of nature's
wonders that such a being should come to a realization of his power and
a deep sense of responsibility toward the uplift of his fellowmen.
In view of these peculiar powers, it was most fitting that Mr. Beech-
er should become a preacher. He Worked at his chosen calling with the
same zeal which revealed to him his surpassing ability. Men came from
everywhere far and near to hear this powerful orator, who, they said,
could warm the heart of a stone. He gave to many a discouraged mor-
tal a helping hand and cheered him on in the Fight that seemed a losing
His voice, his power, were lifted against humanity's foes. His pul-
pit rang with not only denunciation of the iniquitous slave traffic but
with pathetic appeals for the support of his people in putting down this
cruel monster. When the international crisis came in 1863 and England
seemed about to recognize the Confederacy, Beecher braved the jeers of
the mobs in England, and fearlessly raised his voice against the whole
institution of human slavery.
No voice, except perhaps that of Wendell Phillips, was lifted with
such powerful effect both in America and abroad against this deep-
Beecher's life was full of gotd deeds. His kindly but powerful
words touched the needy on the streets, in the lowest hovels, and in the
mansions and business offices of the wealthiest. He lived for humanity
and humanity worshiped at his feet. To the discouraged and broken-
I ix4 T
5 came to a humble fireside back in the quaint Connecticut
A m y
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