understanding it, has received a new sensation. In Lowell the
American mind has for the first time flowered out into thoroughly
original genius.

There is an airy grace about the best pieces of Washington Irving, which
has no parallel amongst English writers, however closely modelled may be
his style upon that of the Addisonian age. There is much original power,
which will perhaps be better appreciated at a future day, about Fenimore
Cooper's delineations of the physical and spiritual border-land, between
white and red, between civilization and savagery. There is dramatic
power of a high order about Mr. Hawthorne, though mixed with a certain
morbidness and bad taste, which debar him from ever attaining to the
first rank. There is an originality of position about Mr. Emerson, in
his resolute setting up of King Self against King Mob, which, coupled
with a singular metallic glitter of style, and plenty of shrewd New
England mother-wit, have made up together one of the best counterfeits
of genius that has been seen for many a day; so good, indeed, that most
men are taken by it for the first quarter of an hour at the least. But
for real unmistakable genius,--for that glorious fulness of power which
knocks a man down at a blow for sheer admiration, and then makes him
rush into the arms of the knocker-down, and swear eternal friendship
with him for sheer delight; the "Biglow Papers" stand alone.

If I sought to describe their characteristics, I should say, the most
exuberant and extravagant humour, coupled with strong, noble, Christian
purpose,--a thorough scorn for all that is false and base, all the more
withering because of the thorough geniality of the writer. Perhaps Jean
Paul is of all the satirists I have named the one who at bottom presents
most affinity with Lowell, but the differences are marked. The
intellectual sphere of the German is vaster, but though with certain
aims before him, he rather floats and tumbles about like a porpoise at
play than follows any direct perceptible course. With Lowell, on the
contrary, every word tells, every laugh is a blow; as if the god Momus
had turned out as Mars, and were hard at work fighting every inch of
him, grinning his broadest all the while.

Will some English readers be shocked by this combination of broad and
keen humour with high Christian purpose--the association of humour and
Christianity? I hope not. At any rate, I would remind any such of
Luther, and of our own Lat