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took occasion to amend it pretty radically. In the liturgy which has been employed at King's Chapel from bis time to our own, although the general form of the episcopal service is preserved rather more nearly than the episcopal service preserves that of the Church of Rome, there is occasional avoidance of the Holy Ghost. In consequence, the publication of the King's Chapel liturgy has sometimes been held the beginning of the Unitarian movement in New England. Certainly, too, along with this insistence on the unity of God, as distinguished from the mysteries of Trinity, Dr. Freeman's teaching tended to agree with that which has since been fashionable in Boston, by emphasising the more amiable as distinguished from the more terrible aspects of Deity. As we shall see later, the theology of nineteenth-century Massachusetts has occupied itself in so thickly freezing over the Calvinistic hell that to this day those who slide about on its surface, particularly in the neighbourhood of Harvard College, are disposed to deny that there were ever any brimstone fires at all.

To the orthodoxy of Yale this tendency was abhorrent; and Dwight's “ Triumph of Infidelity” thus attacks the type of ecclesiastic who was to develop into such eminent spiritual leaders as Channing, Emerson, and Phillips Brooks:

“There smiled the smooth Divine, unused to wound
The sinner's heart, with hell's alarming sound.
No terrors on his gentle tongue attend;
No grating truths the nicest ear offend.
That strange new-birth, that methodistic grace,
Nor in his heart nor sermons found a place.
Plato's fine tales he clumsily retold,
Trite, fireside, moral seesaws, dull as old;
His Christ and Bible placed at good remove,
Guilt hell-deserving, and forgiving love.
'T was best he said, mankind should cease to sin:
Good fame required it: so did peace within.
Their honours, well he knew, would ne'er be driven;
But hoped they still would please to go to heaven.
Each week he paid his visitation dues ;
Coaxed, jested, laughed; rehearsed the private news;

Smoked with each goodly, thought her cheese excelled;
Her pipe he lighted, and her baby held.
Or placed in some great town, with lacquered shoes,
Trim wig, and trimmer gown, and glistening hose,
He bowud, talked politics, learned manners mild;
Most meckly questioned, and most smoothly smiled;
At rich men's jests laughed loud, their stories praised;
Their wives' new patterns gazed, and gazed, and gazed;
Most daintily on pampered turkeys dined;
Nor shrunk with fasting nor with study pined;
Yet from their churches saw his brethren driven,
Who thundered truth, and spoke the voice of heaven,
Chilled trembling guilt, in Satan's headlong path,
Charmed the feet back, and roused the ear of death.
• Let fools,' he cried starve on, while prudent I
Snug in my nest shall live, and snug shall die.''

Good sound eighteenth-century satire this of Dwight's, expressing vigorous theologic conservatism, but written, as any one can see, in the traditional manner of the early English eighteenth century, and published in a year signalised in England by a collected edition of the poems of Burns. American literature still lagged behind that of the mother country. Dwight also wrote a poem called “Greenfield Hill,” of which the name is remembered. It is long, tedious, formal, and turgid; but it indicates, like the good President's travels, that he was touched by a sense of the beauties of nature in his native country.

Toward the end of the century the literary group of which President Dwight is the most memorable figure developed into a recognised little company, designated as the “ Hartford Wits ;” for most of them, though graduates of Yale, lived at one time or another in the old capital of colonial Connecticut. In Stedman and Hutchinson's “ Library of American Literature” a special section is given to these “ Hartford Wits,” of whom the chief are said to have been : John Trumbull, Lemuel Hopkins, David Humphreys, Joel Barlow, Theodore Dwight, M. F. Cogswell, and E. H. Smith. Of these names only two, those of Trumbull and Barlow, now survive even in tradition.

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Trumbull was on the whole the more important. He was two years older than President Dwight, and graduated at Yale in 1767, two years before hiin. In 1769 he co-operated with him in publishing that series of essays in the manner of the “Spectator.” From 1771 to 1773 he was a tutor at Yale ; afterwards he practised law in New Haven and in Boston; and in 1781 he went to Hartford, where he remained as lawyer and later as Judge of the Superior Court until 1819. From 1825 until his death in 1831 he lived at Detroit in Michigan. Trumbull's principal works are two long poems in the manner of “ Hudibras.” The first, entitled the “ Progress of Dulness," and written between 1772 and 1774, satirises the state of clerical education in a manner of which the following extract will give a sufficient example :

“ Our hero's wit and learning now may

Be proved by token of diploma,
Of that diploma, which with speed
He learns to construe and to read;
And stalks abroad with conscious stride,
In all the airs of pedant pride,
With passport signed for wit and knowledge
And current under seal of college.
Few months now past, he sees with pain
His purse as empty as his brain;
His father leaves him then to fate,
And throws him off, as useless weight;
But gives him good advice, to teach
A school at first, and then to preach.
Thou reason'st well ; it must be so;
For nothing else thy son can do.
As thieves of old, t'avoid the halter,
Took refuge in the holy altar,
Oft dulness flying from disgrace
Finds safety in that sacred place ;
There boldly rears his head, or rests
Secure from ridicule or jests;
Where dreaded satire may not dare
Offend his wig's extremest hair ;
Where scripture sanctifies his strains,
And reverence hides the want of brains."

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Trumbull's other Hudibrastic work is a mock epic entitled “M’Fingal,” written between 1774 and 1782, which satirises the follies of his countrymen, particularly of the Tory persuasion. The poem had great popularity; it is said to have passed through more than thirty editions. A taste of it may be had from the following description of how M'Fingal, a caricatured Tory, was punished by a patriot mob for cutting down a Liberty pole:

“Forthwith the crowd proceed to deck
With halter'd noose M'Fingal's neck,
While he in peril of his soul
Stood tied half-hanging to the pole ;
Then lifting high the ponderous jar,
Pour'd o'er his head the smoaking tar.
With less profusion once was spread
Oil on the Jewish monarch's head,
That down his beard and vestments ran,
And covered all his outward man.
As when (so Claudian sings) the Gods
And earth-born Giants fell at odds,
The stout Enceladus in malice
Tore mountains up to throw at Pallas;
And while he held them o'er his head,
The river, from their fountains fed,
Pour'd down his back its copious tide,
And wore its channels in his hide :
So from the bigh-raised urn the torrents
Spread down his side their various currents;
His flowing wig, as next the brim,
First met and drank the sable stream;
Adown his visage stern and grave
Rolld and adhered the viscid wave;
With arms depending as he stood,
Each cup capacious holds the flood;
From nose and chin's remotest end
The tarry icicles descend ;
Till all o'erspread, with colors gay,
He glittered to the western ray,
Like sleet-bound trees in wintry skies,
Or Lapland idol carved in ice.
And now the feather-bag display'd
Is waved in triumph o'er his head,

And clouds him o'er with feathers missive,
And down upon the tar, adhesive :
Not Maia's son, with wings for ears,
Such plumage round his visage wears,
Nor Milton's six-wing'd angel gathers
Such superfluity of feathers.
Now all complete appears our Squire,
Like Gorgon or Chimæra dire ;
Nor more could boast on Plato's plan
To rank among the race of man,
Or prove his claim to human nature,
As a two-legg'd unfeather'd creature.”

Now, clearly, this is not “ Hudibras,” any more than John Trumbull, the respectable and scholarly Connecticut lawyer of the closing eighteenth century, was Samuel Butler, the prototype of Grub Street in Restoration London. Most historians of American literature who have touched on Trumbull have accordingly devoted themselves to emphasising the difference between “M'Fingal ” and “Hudibras.” For our purposes the likeness between the poems seems more significant. Butler died, poor and neglected, in 1680; Trumbull was prosperously alive one hundred and fifty years later; and yet an intelligent reader might easily mistake many verses of the latter for verses of the former. Trumbull's are less clever, more decent, and doubtless distinguishable in various more profound ways; but the two poems are so much alike as to indicate in the cleverest American satirist of the closing eighteenth century a temper essentially like that of the cleverest English satirist of a century before.

Butler was born less than ten years after Queen Elizabeth died, and Trumbull only ten years before the accession of King George III. It is hardly unreasonable to find in these facts a fresh indication of how nearly the native temper of America remained like that of the first immigration.

Joel Barlow, the other Hartford Wit who is still faintly remembered, was rather more erratic. He was born in 1754. While a Yale undergraduate he served in the Continental

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