itutions; and the fourth
book of his _Knickerbocker_ is throughout a palpable satire on the
administration of Thomas Jefferson, the great apostle of Democracy.
Perhaps, however, he may since have changed his views. Willis, too,
the 'Free Penciler,' who has been half his life prating about lords
and ladies, and great people, and has become a sort of Jenkins to
the fashionable life of New York; he also is one of the Democratic
party. Peradventure he may vote the 'Locofoco ticket' in the hope
of propitiating _the boys_ (as the _canaille_ of American cities are
properly called), and saving his printing-office from the fate of the
Italian Opera House in Astor Place. But what shall we say of Cooper,
who, by his anti-democratic opinions, has made himself one of the most
unpopular men in his country, and whose recent political novels rival
the writings of Judge Haliburton in the virulence as well as the
cleverness of their satire upon Republican institutions? He, too, is
a Democrat. To us, who are not behind the curtain, these things are
a mystery incapable of explanation. To return to our present subject.
Halleck made his _debut_ in the poetical world by some satirical
pieces called _The Croakers_, which created as much sensation at their
appearance as the anonymous _Salmagundi_ which commenced Irving's
literary career. These were succeeded by _Fanny_, a poem in the
_Don Juan_ metre. _Fanny_ has no particular plot or story, but is a
satirical review of all the celebrities, literary, fashionable, and
political, of New York at that day (1821). And the satire was probably
very good at the time and in the place; but, unfortunately for the
extent and permanence of its reputation, most of these celebrities are
utterly unknown, not merely beyond the limits of the Union, but beyond
those of New York. Among all the personages enumerated we can find
but two names that an European reader would be likely to know anything
about,--Clinton and Van Buren. Nay, more, in the rapid growth and
change of things American, the present generation of New Yorkers are
likely to lose sight of the lions of their immediate progenitors; and
unless some Manhattanese scholiast should write a commentary on the
poem in time, its allusions, and with them most of its wit, will be
in danger of perishing entirely. What we _can_ judge of in _Fanny_ are
one or two graceful lyrics interspersed in it, though even these are
marred by untimely comicality and local allusio