Skip to content
← Back to poem

MASSACHUSETTS REGIMENT

James Russell Lowell

[This letter of Mr. Sawin's was not originally written in verse. Mr.

Biglow, thinking it peculiarly susceptible of metrical adornment,

translated it, so to speak, into his own vernacular tongue. This is not

the time to consider the question, whether rhyme be a mode of expression

natural to the human race. If leisure from other and more important

avocations be granted, I will handle the matter more at large in an

appendix to the present volume. In this place I will barely remark, that

I have sometimes noticed in the unlanguaged prattlings of infants a

fondness for alliteration, assonance, and even rhyme, in which natural

predisposition we may trace the three degrees through which our

Anglo-Saxon verse rose to its culmination in the poetry of Pope. I would

not be understood as questioning in these remarks that pious theory

which supposes that children, if left entirely to themselves, would

naturally discourse in Hebrew. For this the authority of one experiment

is claimed, and I could, with Sir Thomas Browne, desire its

establishment, inasmuch as the acquirement of that sacred tongue would

thereby be facilitated. I am aware that Herodotus states the conclusion

of Psammetieus to have been in favor of a dialect of the Phrygian. But,

beside the chance that a trial of this importance would hardly be

blessed to a Pagan monarch whose only motive was curiosity, we have on

the Hebrew side the comparatively recent investigation of James the

Fourth of Scotland. I will add to this prefatory remark, that Mr. Sawin,

though a native of Jaalam, has never been a stated attendant on the

religious exercises of my congregation. I consider my humble efforts

prospered in that not one of my sheep hath ever indued the wolf's

clothing of war, save for the comparatively innocent diversion of a

militia training. Not that my flock are backward to undergo the

hardships of _defensive_ warfare. They serve cheerfully in the great

army which fights, even unto death _pro aris et focis_, accoutred with

the spade, the axe, the plane, the sledge, the spelling-book, and other

such effectual weapons against want and ignorance and unthrift. I have

taught them (under God) to esteem our human institutions as but tents of

a night, to be stricken whenever Truth puts the bugle to her lips and

sounds a march to the heights of wider-viewed intelligence and more

perfect organization.--H.W.]

 

 

MISTER BUCKINUM, the follerin Billet was writ hum by a Yung feller of

our town that wuz cussed fool enuff to goe atrottin inter Miss Chiff

arter a Drum and fife, it ain't Nater for a feller to let on that he's

sick o' any bizness that He went intu off his own free will and a Cord,

but I rather cal'late he's middlin tired o' voluntearin By this Time. I

bleeve u may put dependunts on his statemence. For I never heered nothin

bad on him let Alone his havin what Parson Wilbur cals a _pong shong_

for cocktales, and he ses it wuz a soshiashun of idees sot him agoin

arter the Crootin Sargient cos he wore a cocktale onto his hat.

 

his Folks gin the letter to me and i shew it to parson Wilbur and he ses

it oughter Bee printed. send It to mister Buckinum, ses he, i don't

ollers agree with him, ses he, but by Time,[11] ses he, I _du_ like a

feller that aint a Feared.

 

I have intusspussed a Few refleckshuns hear and thar. We're a kind

o'prest with Hayin.

 

Ewers respecfly