dowed at as early a period as the year 1636, and at Liverpool, he received a most cordial wel- | come. A few days after, he visited Carlisle, and was the guest of Captain Ferguson, of Morton. The Literary and Mechanics' Institute in that city presented him with an address, to which, in replying, he said that they could not think how very grateful and pleasant it was to him to find his naine had a place in their memories and their affections, when he had believed that, in coming to the land of his fathers, he would have found no trace of his family or name, even in the streets of towns, or on the outside of the houses of the living; but only in the graveyard, and on the doors of the dead. On the afternoon of the same day, the 13th of June, he visited Eden Hall, the seat of the ancient border clan of the Musgraves, where is still preserved the ancient goblet of the Luck of Edinburgh. Mr. Longfellow visited Cambridge on the 16th of June, and received from the ancient university in that town the degree of Doctor of Laws (LL.D.), amid much enthusiasm from a large and distinguished auditory. It is pleasant that a leading poet of the United States should have been thus honoured by a university generally as sparing of its favours as Cambridge; but it is especially noteworthy that this mark of esteem towards Longfellow should have been considered as a partial return for the kindness of America towards Mr. Charles Dickens. "Once, ah, once, within these walls Source: It is certainly a grand old estate, this residence of Longfellow's; almost too grand, indeed, to harmonize with one's romantic notion of what be. It is such a house as the untitled family the abode of rhyme-compelling genius should aristocracy of America are wont to delight invery ancient for the new world, built with that substantial massiveness and unpretending plainness which symbolize the characteristics of prerevolutionary generations. A simple, low, stone wall, settled a little by time, separates the square lawn from the street; half wayrises a high, plain, wooden gateway. Looking with ease over the wall, the passer-by may behold at leisure the residence of the poet and its sur On the afternoon of Saturday, the 4th of July, Longfellow had the honour of an interview with the Queen at Windsor Castle; and during his stay in London he had a grand dinner given to. him at the Langham Hotel, Portland-place, by the distinguished artist, Mr. Bierstadt. The entertainment was brilliant in the extreme, and thoroughly international in character, the attendance comprising some of the most celebrated men on both sides of the Atlantic. Amongst them was the great statesman, Mr. Gladstone, who, after dinner, in very appropriate remarks, called on the company to drink heartily to the health, happiness, and fame of their guest. A few things occurred at this dinner which ought not to be passed over in silence, on account of their novelty. A likeness of the poet was at tached to the bill of fare placed before the com-roundings. On either side of the walk from the pany; and to that especially prepared for Longfellow himself, a small oil picture, painted by Mr. Bierstadt, was attached, the subject being the "Departure of Hiawatha," as described in the concluding lines of the poem. Just before Longfellow's departure to the south of Europe, he spent some days in the Isle of Wight, at the residence of a congenial spiritEngland's greatest living poet, Tennyson. The criticisms upon the works of Longfellow are almost universal, and would fill more pages than this volume contains. We must therefore simply content ourselves with a short tribute to his praise by George Gilfillan, who speaks of his poems as being "inspirited with poetic life, decorated with chaste image, and shadowed with pensive sentiment, like the hand of manhood laid gently on the billowy head of childhood." This same writer has said, glancing critically at all the poems of Longfellow, that his genius is essentially lyric; that he has neither the severity of the epic power nor the subtlety of the dramatic genius, and that he swiftly and surely responds to the "passing impulses that come upon his soul." THE RESIDENCE OF LONGFELLOW. IN order to render our sketch of the American poet the more interesting, we give an illustration of Longfellow's house. It is situated in an old American town, which the original settlers are said to have intended as the capital of Massachusetts, and which they dignified with the name of Cambridge-a school, erected and en gate to the house is a pretty simple lawn, care- events of the revolution. The spacious old rooms now occupied by the poet were once, at a memorable time, the abode of America's most illustrious son. The writer of lyrics has taken the place of the actor of epics. When, in the early days of the war of independence, Washington was elected by Congress to the command of the colonial army, English troops had possession of Boston. The siege was formed by concentrating the patriot troops in the neighbouring towns. Washington went to New England to direct their movements in person, and fixed his head-qarters in convenient Cambridge-in this same venerable mansion where Longfellow now lives. Thence he sent out his orders, general and special; here convened, in anxious deliberation, the little knot of patriot officers, unskilled in war, collected from farm-houses and laboratories, to drill by manual and learn the art of sieges. Within this door passed the wealthy merchant, Hancock, who had turned his thoughts to "rules" and "orders of the day;" gruff Samuel Adams, a Puritan Mirabeau, putting his finger exactly on the pith of the trouble; rewards for the capture of those two had just been proclaimed over in Boston. In these quiet rooms, given up now these many years to the Muse, whence come out ever and anon gracefullest gems of the rhythmic art, a plan of campaign was drawn up, experienced ex-royal Lieutenant Washington supervising, ex-merchants, doctors, farmers, advising,-all agreeing, too, and at last succeeding; unity, a rare thing in revo lutionary councils, ever prevailing. Washington did not stir from this Longfellow's house till he could go in triumph. It is no wonder, then, that Americans visit this old place with mingled feelings-that they find here a reminiscence as well as an attractive presence; and while gazing at the home of the first of native poets, revert to that troublous time when there was for America but the grim poetry of war. |