XVIII

EDITORS' ADDRESS

MASSACHUSETTS QUARTERLY REVIEW, DECEMBER, 1847

THE old men studied magic in the flowers,
And human fortunes in astronomy,

And an omnipotence in chemistry,

Preferring things to names, for these were men,
Were unitarians of the united world,

And, wheresoever their clear eye-beams fell,
They caught the footsteps of the Same. Our eyes
Are armed, but we are strangers to the stars,
And strangers to the mystic beast and bird,
And strangers to the plant and to the mine.
The injured elements say, Not in us;
And night and day, ocean and continent,
Fire, plant and mineral say, 'Not in us; '
And haughtily return us stare for stare.
For we invade them impiously for gain;
We devastate them unreligiously,

And coldly ask their pottage, not their love.
Therefore they shove us from them, yield to us
Only what to our griping toil is due;

But the sweet affluence of love and song,
The rich results of the divine consents

Of man and earth, of world beloved and loved,
The nectar and ambrosia are withheld.

EDITORS' ADDRESS

HE American people are fast opening their own destiny. The material basis is of such extent that no folly of man can quite subvert it; for the territory is a considerable fraction of the planet, and the population neither loath nor inexpert to use their advantages. Add, that this energetic race derive an unprecedented material power from the new arts, from the expansions effected by public schools, cheap postage and a cheap press, from the telescope, the telegraph, the railroad, steamship, steam-ferry, steam-mill; from domestic architecture, chemical agriculture, from ventilation, from ice, ether, caoutchouc, and innumerable inventions and manufactures.

A scholar who has been reading of the fabulous magnificence of Assyria and Persia, of Rome and Constantinople, leaves his library and takes his seat in a railroad-car, where he is importuned by newsboys with journals still wet from Liverpool and Havre, with telegraphic despatches not yet fifty minutes old from Buffalo and Cincinnati. At the screams of the steam-whistle, the train quits city and suburbs,

darts away into the interior, drops every man at his estate as it whirls along, and shows our traveller what tens of thousands of powerful and weaponed men, science-armed and societyarmed, sit at large in this ample region, obscure from their numbers and the extent of the domain. He reflects on the power which each of these plain republicans can employ; how far these chains of intercourse and travel reach, interlock and ramify; what levers, what pumps, what exhaustive analyses are applied to Nature for the benefit of masses of men. Then he exclaims, What a negro-fine royalty is that of Jamschid and Solomon! What a substantial sovereignty does my townsman possess! A man who has a hundred dollars to dispose of a hundred dollars over his bread is rich

beyond the dreams of the Cæsars.

Keep our eyes as long as we can on this picture, we cannot stave off the ulterior question, -the famous question of Cineas to Pyrrhus,'the WHERE TO of all this power and population these surveys and inventions, this taxing and tabulating, mill-privilege, roads, and mines. The aspect this country presents is a certain maniacal activity, an immense apparatus of cunning machinery which turns out, at last,