NORTH SHORE BREEZE 
MANCHESTER, MASS., FRIDAY, JANUARY 8, 1909. 
ENGLISH LITERATURE IN THE 
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY. 
BY .D. f., LAMSON. 
James Thomson, the poet of the 
*“Seasons,’? was born Sept. 11, 1700, 
and thus barely escaped belonging by 
birth as well as by culture and- environ- 
ment to the eighteenth century, the cen- 
tury of fine wits, of artificial poets and of 
fashionable moralists. His father was a 
country parson in the extreme south of 
Scotland; his youth was passed among 
the breezy hills and moors of a Border 
parish, aside from the influences of city 
life, his early rural associations giving a 
tone to all his writings. His education 
was obtained at Edinburgh, and was of 
the ordinary prosaic type of the time; 
his attention, we may suppose _ being 
given chiefly to the Humanities, as he 
begun early in his student life to show an 
appreciation of the poetic side of nature, 
and to cultivate the art of verse-making; 
a teacher at Jedburgh having, it is said, 
great influence in moulding his taste be- 
fore he entered the university. 
Thomson at first thought of the minis- 
try as a profession, but after five years in 
the Divinty Hall he abandoned the idea, 
and going up to London launched upon 
the uncertain sea of literary life. He 
was without employment, without 
money, and with few friends, practically 
alone in the great city; saddened by the 
recent death of his mother, he began 
composing the first of his poems on _ the 
seasons, © Winter,’’ and the lines 
*“Welcome, kindred glooms 
Congenial horrors, hail,”’ 
no doubt expressed his own forlorn mood 
onthe approach of the winter of 1725. 
The complete work was not published 
until- 1730. Meanwhile, and later, 
Thomson wrote many other poems, 
among them “‘ Liberty,’’ which he in- 
intended to be his masterpiece, but which 
never gained great acceptance; the 
masque of “ Alfred,’’ which contained 
the song ‘‘ Rule Brittannia;’’ and the 
“Castle of Indolence,’’ his last work 
published the year of his death, 1748. 
This is by some considered the best of 
his works; but the general verdict is in 
favor of the “‘ Seasons.”’ 
The classical school had wearied the 
public taste with its art and frigidity; the 
time was ripe for the advent of a_ writer 
of verse with a simple theme, a_ poetical 
coloring of common life, and manly 
sentiment. It is no wonder that ‘Thom- 
son took by surprise a generation accus- 
tomed to burlesque, refined inanity, and 
themes remote from everyday life; and 
TOTALLY DESTROYED BY FIRE 
Residence of David Betts at Manchester a Total Loss, Last Night, 
Origin of Fire Unknown. 
The 12-room two and a half story re- 
sidence of David Betts, off Pine street, 
Manchester, was totally destroyed by fire 
last night. While those who first saw 
the fire say it started in the end of the 
house where the kitchen is located, the 
exact cause of the fire is unknown. 
‘The alarm was sounded shortly after 
seven o'clock after a telephone to the 
engine house summoned the department. 
Though record time was made to the 
scene when the hose wagon arrived there 
the house was even then a mass of flames. 
Aided by the strong breeze the Hames 
soon became beyond control and _ spread 
to all parts of the house. 
The firemen put up a good fight. but . 
were powerless to overcome the head- 
way that had been obtained. The force 
from the water mains was hardly sufhici- 
ent to throw astream over the house. 
The steamer was brought in use later. 
A big crowd gathered to see the fire. 
The all out was sounded about nine 
o'clock. The building was totally de- 
stroyed. 
Mr. and Mrs. Betts lived in the house 
alone, their son being in California. 
Yesterday morning Mr. and Mrs. Betts 
left home about nine o’clock for Boston, 
driving over the road as far as Lynn. 
‘They returned last evening about 7.30 
and as they turned up Pine street from 
the main road they saw the crowds flock- 
Horse Dropped Dead. 
ing to the fire, but not until they came 
within sight of the fire did they realize it 
was their own home that was being de- 
stroyed. Mrs. Betts was overcome and 
had to be taken from the carriage and 
into the house of a neighbor. 
Mr. Betts said to the Breeze man 
that when they left home inthe morning 
they left a fire in their kitchen range and 
one ina parlor stove. It didn’t seem 
possible that the fire could have started 
from either of these sources, as the fires 
would naturally have almost burned 
themselves out by that time. 
Asked as to the value of the house 
Mr. Betfs said he had built it from 
foundations to attic, and had driven every 
nail in it himself. It was built after the 
cottage style, and was quite attractive. 
It was not wholly finished inside. He 
said he valued the house at $9000 or 
$10,000. $5000 insurance is carried on 
it through the agency of William J. 
Johnson. 
Smith’s Express Co. lost a valuable 
horse through the fre. A pair of the 
company s horses was used to haul the 
steamer to the scene. ‘The fire had 
been reached and the horses were just 
brought to a stop when one of the pair 
fell over, dead. “The animal had been 
fed only a short time before. Mr. 
Merrill places his loss at about $300. 
his popularity did not lessen until in the 
next century Scott and Byron threw him 
into eclipse. Thomson was not only an 
easy versifer, but he had an eye which 
nature bestows only upon a poet, and a 
heart to feel for all mankind; and the 
high praise must be given to him that 
his poems contain 
** Not one immoral, one corrupted thought, 
One line which, dying, he would wish to blot. 
. ce 
These lines from the Hymn on the 
Seasons’ give a fair idea of his muse: 
‘These, as they change, Almighty Father, 
these 
Are but the varied God. The rolling year 
Is full of thee. Forth in the pleasing Spring 
Thy beauty walks, thy tenderness and love. 
Wide flush the fields; the softening air is balm; 
Echo the mountains round; the forest smiles; 
And every sense and every heart is joy. 
Then comes thy glory in the Summer months, 
With light end heat refulgent. Then thy sun 
Shoots full perfection through the swelling year; 
And oft thy voice in dreadful thunder speaks-— 
And oft at dawn, deap noon, or falling eve, 
By brooks and groves 
gales. 
Thy bounty shines in Autumn unconfined, 
And spreads a common feast for all that lives. 
In Winter, awful thou, with clouds and storm, 
Around thee thrown, tempest o’er tempest 
roll’d, 
Majestic darkness! On the whirlwind’s wing, 
Riding sublime, thou bidst the world adore, 
And humblest nature with thy northern blast.” 
in hollow-whispering 
But no single selection can do justice 
to his varied and tuneful measures; his 
Eolian harp, gives voice to all the melo- 
dies of the Seasons, from Summer’s 
gentlest zephyr to the roar of Winter’s 
tempests; his skillful hand strikes now 
the tenderest and now the most tragic 
chords of nature’s lyre; the only really 
unworthy passage is the ridiculous bath- 
ing scene, a remarkable instance of 
bathos. 
The generous impulses of the poet are 
expressed in a noble stanza inthe “‘ Castle 
of Indolence:”’ 
Continued on next page 
