same good offices for his rickety little son: "These be
good rhymes, Alexander;" or the reverse, when his couplets were
unfinished. Allibone states that Master Bryant's first effusions were
translations from some of the Latin poets, but, as these were written
and printed in his tenth year, the account is scarcely credible. He
began at ten years of age to write verses (says another authority),
which were printed in the Northampton newspaper of that day--the
_Hampshire Gazette_.

When he was fourteen he had verse enough on hand to make a little
pamphlet volume, which was published (we are not told where) in 1808.
A second edition, corrected and enlarged, was brought out at Boston in
the ensuing year. It was entitled "The Embargo; or, Sketches of the
Times--a Satire," and is described as being a reflection, in heroic
measure, of the anti-Jeffersonian Federalism of New England. "If the
young bard," said the Aristarchus of the _Monthly Anthology_ for June,
1808; "if the young bard has received no assistance in the composition
of this poem, he certainly bids fair, should he continue to cultivate
his talents, to gain a respectable station on the Parnassian mount,
and to reflect credit on the literature of his country." Besides the
"Embargo," the volume contained an "Ode to Connecticut," and a copy of
verses entitled "Drought," written in his thirteenth year.

In 1810 the young poet entered Williams College, a sophomore, and
remained two years. He is said to have distinguished himself greatly,
and we can readily believe it. We can believe anything of the youth
who conceived "Thanatopsis." When this noble poem was written is
variously stated; one account says in 1812, and another 1813. It is of
no great consequence, however, whether Bryant was eighteen or nineteen
at the time. No other poet ever wrote so profound a poem at so early
an age. In whatever light we consider it, "Thanatopsis" is without a
parallel in the history of literature. The train of thought it awakens
is the most universal with which the soul of man can be touched,
belonging to no age and no clime, but to all climes and ages, and
embracing all that pertains to him on earth. It is his life-hymn and
his death-anthem. It is mortality. Poets from immemorial time have
brooded over life and death, but none with the seriousness and
grandeur of this young American. There are moments in the life of man
when he stands face to face with nature, and sees her as she is, a