olition party. Year after year poems fell from his pen in which with all the eloquence of his nature he sought to enlist his countrymen upon the side of emancipation and freedom. It is not too much to say that in the slow development of public sentiment Whittier's steady song was one of the most powerful advocates that the slave had, all the more powerful that it was free from malignity or unjust

accusation.

Whittier's poems have been issued in a number of small volumes, and collected into single larger volumes. Besides those already indicated, there are a number which owe their origin to his tender regard for domestic life and the simple experience of the men and women about him. Of these SnowBound is the most memorable. Then his fondness for a story has led him to use the ballad form in many cases, and Mabel Martin is one of a number, in which the narrative is blended with a fine and strong charity. The catholic mind of this writer and his instinct for discovering the pure moral in human action are disclosed by a number of poems, drawn from a wide range of historical fact, dealng with a great variety of religious faiths and circumstances of life, but always pointing to some sweet and strong truth of the divine life. Of such are The Brother of Mercy, The Gift of Tritemius, The Two Rabbis, and others. Whittier's Prose Works are comprised in two volumes, and consist mainly of his contributions to journals and of Leaves from Margaret Smith's Journal, a fictitious diary of a visitor to New England in 1678.

I.

SNOW-BOUND.

A WINTER IDYL.

As the Spirits of Darkness be stronger in the dark, so Good Spirits which be Angels of Light are augmented not only by the Divine light of the Sun, but also by our common VVood Fire and as the Celestial Fire drives away dark spirits, so also this our Fire of VVood doth the same." COR. AGRIPPA, Occult Philosophy, Book I. ch. v.

"Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
Arrives the snow; and, driving o'er the fields,
Seems nowhere to alight; the whited air
Hides hills and woods, the river and the heaven,
And veils the farm-house at the garden's end.
The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet
Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
Around the radiant fireplace, inclosed
In a tumultuous privacy of storm."

EMERSON, The Snow-Storm.

THE sun that brief December day
Rose cheerless over hills of gray,
And, darkly circled, gave at noon
A sadder light than waning moon.
5 Slow tracing down the thickening sky
Its mute and ominous prophecy,
A portent seeming less than threat,
It sank from sight before it set.
A chill no coat, however stout,

10 Of homespun stuff could quite shut out,
A hard, dull bitterness of cold,

That checked, mid-vein, the circling race
Of life-blood in the sharpened face,
The coming of the snow-storm told.
15 The wind blew east; we heard the roar

Of Ocean on his wintry shore,

And felt the strong pulse throbbing there
Beat with low rhythm our inland air.

Meanwhile we did our nightly chores, 2c Brought in the wood from out of doors, Littered the stalls, and from the mows Raked down the herd's-grass for the cows: Heard the horse whinnying for his corn; And, sharply clashing horn on horn, 25 Impatient down the stanchion rows The cattle shake their walnut bows; While, peering from his early perch Upon the scaffold's pole of birch, The cock his crested helmet bent 30 And down his querulous challenge sent. Unwarmed by any sunset light The gray day darkened into night, A night made hoary with the swarm, And whirl-dance of the blinding storm,

35 As zigzag wavering to and fro

Crossed and recrossed the wingéd snow:
And ere the early bedtime came

The white drift piled the window-frame, And through the glass the clothes-line posts 40 Looked in like tall and sheeted ghosts.

So all night long the storm roared on:
The morning broke without a sun;
In tiny spherule traced with lines

Of Nature's geometric signs,

45 In starry flake, and pellicle

All day the hoary meteor fell;
And, when the second morning shone,

We looked upon a world unknown,