PREFACE
TO THE FIRST EDITION.
It is believed that the Poems in this volume, composed as they were under circumstances of unusual affliction, will be read with a peculiar interest. They are the record of a secluded sufferer; yet surely, in a world like this, of vicissitude and sorrow, they cannot fail to touch some chord of sympathetic feeling. We are not fitted for the condition of human life,—we are not cultivated to the extent of the capabilities of our nature, if to us the genuine expressions of sorrow are not eloquent. It is for a benevolent purpose, that God has wrought into our souls a capacity of receiving the impression of another's joys or sorrows. It is this capacity which unites us most truly to our fellow-beings. Without it, we should be solitary and sad in any part of God's universe. Without it, knowledge would lose half its value, prosperity its highest charm, and suffering its most grateful alleviation. The Scriptures make their appeal to us through this principle of our nature. Without this power of sympathy, we can hold no communion with Prophets and Apostles; and without it, the subduing narrative of a Saviour's sufferings would have been given to us in vain. Imagination was bestowed upon us, that we might place ourselves in the situation of others, and be excited by it to a congenial sympathy. This is, at least, one of the highest moral purposes of that noble faculty. When allied with benevolence and truth, it brings within our view a wider range of human interests than reason alone can apprehend. Why is it so seldom consecrated either to the sacred charities of life, or to the anticipation of the untold glories of heaven!
From the Christian who has held intimate communion with the spirit of his crucified Master, and whose tenderness is kept alive by the highest motives and the most touching remembrances, we may expect a just appreciation of the productions in this little volume. He solemnly realizes that every human being is placed under the government of God; and he views with deep interest the dispensations of his Providence toward individuals, as well as toward nations. To him, an immortal being, striving for submission to the will of God, in the midst of calamity and accumulated suffering, is an object of sublime interest. The pathos and the poetry of truth, as exhibited in these productions, will be felt by the Christian. To the medical man and the philosopher, desirous of contemplating the human intellect and character under every variety of circumstance, productions indicating so much thought, imagination, and feeling, and composed under the weight of the most oppressive disease, may furnish an interesting subject of reflection and inquiry. We cannot expect that those who are too much en- grossed by their own personal welfare, and with the conveniences and pleasures which surround them, to think often of others, or to feel for them, will peruse this volume. Their sphere is too limited for the enlarged and generous sympathies of a rational spirit. But it is hoped that there are few who can peruse it, and remain unaffected by it.
In confirmation of our opinion, that these Poems are not without power to interest, we offer some remarks introductory to one of the pieces, "An Ode to the Poppy," published in the Providence Literary Journal.
"The author of the following Ode is one of those, whom Misery has long since marked for her own, and exercised with the severest forms of physical suffering. Afflicted with a chronic disease of many years' duration (in the seat of thought itself), for which there is no remedy, and which must fatally terminate through slow and protracted degrees of pain and distress; never wholly losing her consciousness of present evil, in the balm of sleep, the author has yet been able briefly to forget her condition, and to find momentary consolation, in dictating to her friends several poetical effusions; from which the present has been selected as one of the most finished. Though secluded from the face of Nature, the memory of its various and beautiful forms is quickened, in her solitude, by a poet's imagination. There is a pathos in some of her pieces, a strength of soul struggling against the doom of its decaying tenement, in the agony of deferred and expiring hope, that excite in us, as we lay them down, a feeling of melancholy regret, that another mind is destined to pass away, and leave so imperfect a record of its origin;—a regret that is but partially alleviated by the conviction, however sincere, that, as well in the universe of mind, as of matter, through all their endless changes, nothing is lost, and all is safe in the hands of its Maker.
"The subject of this brief notice is little improved by education, and owes nothing to circumstances: thus adding another to the thousand proofs that genius, in its different degrees and kinds, is a gift, native in the soul, irrepressible in its growth by the greatest weight of calamity, and flourishing even in the cold shadow of Death.
"The author's story disarms criticism, and makes its way at once to the charity of the heart."Journal for Nov. 2d, 1833.
The eloquent observations of the Editor of the Literary Journal are to the same purpose.
"We solicit the attention of the reader to the preceding columns, containing the Memoir of William Taggart, and to the communications by which it is accompanied. His unstudied and unpretending narrative would repay perusal, were it merely for the fine exhibition of personal character which it contains. It, moreover, affords information respecting important events in the war of our Independence, and particularly illustrates some of the most interesting passages in the history of our own State.
"But these are not the strongest circumstances which recommend it to attention. We refer to it, not so much on account of its connexion with the memory of the dead, as with the fate of the living; with the condition of the surviving daughter, whose story, though brief, is terrible, and which cannot be repeated or heard without emotion. It has already been told, in the introductory remarks accompanying one of her poetical effusions which we inserted a few weeks since. The victim of a lingering and incurable malady, under which she has suffered for years; never losing the sense of physical pain, and perfectly conscious of the hoplessness of her condition; although possessing but slight advantages of education, and owing little to the influence of society, she has sent forth compositions which contain the emanations of a mind rich in endowment, fraught with beautiful and delicate conceptions, embodied in a style of language, the correctness and purity of which, under all these adverse circumstances, is scarcely less remarkable than the thoughts which it contains.
"We do not mean to say that her writings are not in many respects defective. They are so; and they could not be otherwise. But, considering the peculiar situation of their author, they are certainly remarkable productions; and without any allowance for circumstances, if subjected to the rules of rigid criticism, some of them would not suffer by a comparison with the ordinary writings of many who have acquired no slight degree of celebrity.
"The references to her own severe deprivations, which they contain, often bear a touching pathos, which finds its way directly to the heart; but of their affecting power she herself appears to be almost unconcious. There is evidently an absence of all design to enlist the feelings of others by allusions of this nature. Whenever we find them in her writings, they appear to come involuntarily from the depths of her own feelings, and to be mingled with the beautiful imagery of her poetry merely through the unceasing pressure of the physical suffering from which her spirit seeks relief among the creations of her vivid imagination.
"The proposal for publishing a collection of her poems certainly deserves encouragement. We hope it will be carried into effect: for, apart from all personal considerations, their intrinsic value renders them worthy of preservation. It is not to furnish the author with the means of ease and enjoyment, for this is beyond the reach of human power; but it is with the design of alleviating, in some degree, the calamities which surround her, that this proposal has been made. It is honorable to those with whom it originated.
"No one who can appreciate the productions of genius; indeed, no one who can feels the claims of humanity, will view a proposal of this nature, with indifference. The mere statement of facts relating to this young lady, which has already been given, is in itself the most powerful appeal which can be made in her behalf. It is mournful to think upon such a mind, suffering under the infliction of a fate like hers; of a spirit so finely tempered,—so framed to sympathize with all the beautiful and exquisite harmonies of the outward creation,—so fitted to draw instruction and delight from the exhaustless treasury of nature; debarred from all communication with the thousand scenes of inspiration, which are continually furnishing other minds with the materials of new and expanded thought,—doomed to the endurance of bodily pain, from which there is no relief,—still rising above the trials which are wearing it away, and pouring forth, amid languishment and pain, its rich music, like the melody of the dying swan."Journal for December 7th, 1833.
To the subjoined letters,[1] the reader is referred for other interesting particulars respecting the subject of this notice.
The venerable father[2] of the author, like many other patriots of the Revolution, bequeathed nothing to his family but the memory of his good works; and their circumstances, before much straitened, have been reduced, by the cessation of his pension, within the ordinary measure of a comfortable subsistence. The publication of this volume, undertaken at the suggestion of her friends, will be the means,—not of ministering to the love of fame, but of affording to the afflicted daughter, in the way most grateful to her fine feelings, and, through her, to the other portion of the family, a very needful relief from the pressure of adverse fortune.—Let those who believe that the national obligations to the Men of '76 have been but imperfectly fulfilled, avail themselves of every opportunity to discharge their portions of the accumulated debt of public gratitude, to such of the descendants of these Men, as are the worthy inheritors of their good name.—Had the author been favored with but a common share of that most essential blessing, health, she would not now need a preface to commend her to the public attention; but would in all probability be enjoying that homage of consideration and esteem for eminent talent and personal excellence, which we delight to manifest towards the distinguished female writers of our country.
As has already been stated, the author of these Poems dictated them (or the greater part of them) to her friends. They have never had her revision for publication, her health not permitting any exertion of this kind; and some of those who wrote them down, evidently have an imperfect acquaintance with the construction of verse. It has therefore been found necessary to make occasional corrections of style and language; not, however, such as to impair the author's originality of thought or expression. It is a matter of surprise, considering her defective education, and the impossibility of improvement, from the very nature of her unhappy condition, that there should have been so few grammatical inaccuracies and defects of rhyme that needed to be amended.—The reader will readily perceive that poetical writings must require, much more frequently than prose compositions, the proper exercise of this discretion. We oftentimes meet with excellent ideas (particularly in reading the old, quaint prose writers) embodied in a rude and repulsive style, and very readily pardon the language to the sense. But it is not so with poetry. One of the principal pleasures, which poetry, as such, distinguished from poetical thoughts in prose, affords us, is in the structure and harmony of its versification. When this is careless, imperfect, and discordant, the ear is at once offended; and good taste may thus mislead the judgment to an unfair estimate of the real powers of an author.
Unpolished diamonds, or as pearls unstrung,
Large, generous thoughts, in phrase obscure confined.
Are buried deep, and lost to all mankind."
To those who are in the habit of hastily running the eye over a few pages of a work, and of casting it aside if the first impression be unfavorable, we would point out any one of the following pieces,—"The Heart's Desire," "The Happy Birds," "On the Return of Spring," "Lines on a Minister of the Gospel," "Ode to the Poppy," "Midnight," "The Twin Sisters," "An Apostrophe to Thought," "Woman's Sympathy," "Lines on Reading the Poems of * * * *," "The Happiness of Early Years," "Distress," "Despair," "To her Father, supposed to be Dying,"—as well adapted to attract their attention, and to secure their interest and good opinion.
It is possible, from the tone of melancholy complaint, which pervades these productions, that some may be led to believe the author destitute of one gift, so necessary in her condition, that of pious resignation. It should be remembered, however, that the poems were separately composed,—most of them at long intervals of time; and that each, when written, naturally expressed the feelings of the author in her peculiar trials. The general effect of the whole upon the reader is not then the true test of the character of the several parts;—and, as "every heart knoweth its own bitterness" under the pressure of afflictions, who but the Searcher of hearts shall chide these lamentations of poor, stricken humanity, and say that they are too deep, and bitter, and prolonged!—If any human soul may utter from the depths of its anguish, a voice of sad repining to its Maker, it is that soul, which, conscious of powers beyond the common allotment to the race, undeveloped and uninstructed,—of honest and noble purposes, of large and generous sympathies and emotions toward all who live,—is prematurely drawing nearer to the close of a painful life, without having acted to a purpose in God's world, through the defect and decay of the tenement with which its mysterious being is invested,—leaving all that good undone which it aspired to do,—making no sign upon the times in which it appeared. Should such a grieved spirit pour itself out in a complaint, that does not breathe what we, the healthy and the happy, may call the calmness of resignation, it may be that "the tear of the Angel of Mercy" shall fall upon it, and "blot it out for ever" from the Judgment-Book of God's Remembrance.
But further,—a moment's reflection on the influence of cerebral disease upon the mind, would remove any remaining impression unfavorable to the author. If you would form a just estimate of her piety, you should think what the effect would be in your own case, to have all the sources of pleasurable sensation dried up, and all the powers of thought disturbed by its oppressed organ. If the brain, the medium through which the mind acts, be diseased, of course all the operations of the mind are impeded, or imperfectly and painfully performed.—Christianity, we know, does not directly remove those evils which have their origin in physical causes; though undoubtedly it has in it a tendency, as Baxter remarks, to remove all evil, inasmuch as it strikes at the root of all sin. "For those whose melancholy arises from corporeal causes," he says, "I would give this advice: Expect not that rational, spiritual remedies should suffice for this cure; for you may as well expect a good sermon, or comfortable words, should cure palsy, as to be a sufficient cure to your melancholy fears, for this is as real a bodily disease as the other." Baxter was no superficial thinker. He knew well that the reciprocal influences of mind and body do not cease in those who have their hearts and hopes in Heaven. No,—though its contemplation rest on God, on eternity, and its own moral nature and destiny,—while the soul is in the body, it is subject to the laws which govern both, and to the mysterious action and reaction established by them; and the faith of a Christian, though it may sustain the sufferer in the painful exercise of thought, feeling, and volition consequent upon a diseased organization, yet will not reverse this effect of physical causes. All the appropriate efforts of the rational spirit are to be made, in such a case, by an instrument unfitted for its "high employ"; and the soul must sink back upon itself, waiting, in faith, the day of its redemption from the burden of the flesh. Blessed be God, that there are truths appropriate to our higher nature, and adequate to sustain us amidst the gloom and solitude of bodily suffering. The Resurrection will be a remedy to the most lengthened malady; and the body will then become a perfect medium for the manifestations of mind and spirit. If we duly considered how easily "the fine net-work of mortality" may be disordered, and the effects resulting from this disorder, we should be better prepared to comprehend the state of the afflicted, and to minister to their necessities. Let the diseased bear in mind, for their own consolation, that God remembers their frame. "He knows each secret thread in nature's loom;" and perceives the necessary effect of their physical maladies, though unperceived by human skill and science. The weakness of the flesh now too often defeats the willing submission of the spirit. But it will not be so always.
It is important that, in the perusal of these poems, we should keep in mind the peculiar character of the author's sufferings, and the circumstances under which they were composed;—otherwise, we shall be but poor interpreters of their spirit. We should remember that, under "the pressure of irresistible suffering," God permits his creatures to complain to him, though not to murmur against him. We should consider, that the faith manifested in such a complex state of trial, though darkened by disease, may be as acceptable in the eye of God, as it is in its more joyous and triumphant exhibitions.
We would hope that the perusal of this volume may awaken in us a solemn conviction of our dependence on a Higher Power for every blessing, and of the consequent duty of using each to his glory;—and a sentiment of deep consideration and tenderness for those less prosperous than ourselves. We should remember that though the dispensations of God's Providence are various, yet that He designs but one end by them all,—to educate immortal spirits for the future life. When this end shall have been accomplished, the dark waters of affliction will have passed away for ever.