374 



ington, wrote his Life rather as an introduction to these, than as a 

 finished biography. Indeed, in a few words in praise of Marshall's 

 Life, he disclaims the intention of entering into competition with it. 



These are the principal biographers of Washington. It was, then, 

 to supply a great want that Irving undertook this labor of love. 



All the materials of former writers — and but little, if anything 

 more — came into his hands. It was not so much his object to inves- 

 tigate originally and profoundly, as to invest what was already known 

 with the charm of his narrative style ; to make a book which men 

 should read, — men and children who leave Marshall and Sparks upon 

 the shelves unread ; in a word, to do for Washington what he had 

 done for Columbus. 



This was a task of great difficulty. Columbus was the hero of 

 romance or epic ; Washington the man of stern realities. And yet, 

 in this design, Irving has perfectly succeeded. 



Chastened by age, and drawing nearer to the seat of eternal truth 

 and justice, his charity is manifest in every page. We are struck 

 with the evident anxiety to do justice throughout this work. Justice 

 to the English is not an American failing. Mr. Irving had been 

 accused of English partiality on several occasions. He had once 

 altered a line of Bryant's poem when it was to be republished in 

 England. He had published his own works with an aifectionate 

 preface in America; and had left it out in the English edition ; and 

 although the explanation in both cases was perfectly satisfactory, 

 there were some grumblers left. 



In Irving's Washington, the English are treated by a generous 

 enemy. Even Tarleton, who, like Claverhouse, had been always 

 represented as a devil incarnate, appears here as a stern, cold, and 

 most energetic partisan officer, who would have done his work well 

 anywhere, but was particularly relentless in pursuing those whom he 

 regarded as traitors and rebels. I have seen the spots and heard the 

 stories of his furious raids ; but I think his cruelty is usually over- 

 drawn. 



If I may be permitted to criticise the work in general ; for I 

 should be unjust in searching for faults in detail, unless I could 

 present also many of its numerous beauties, I would say that Irving 

 lacks the power to analyze character ; and in this work, he fails to 

 collate events and men so as to produce true scenic eifect, lie 

 gives you a beautiful current narrative, but not a true dramatic 

 representation, as in his Columbus. These, with its spirit of pane- 

 gyric, are its greatest faults. Let me oflfer a counter illustration : 



