Lanier, Sidney

Aiton's Encyclopedia (1910)

lan i-er or la-ner', Sidney (1842-1881), an American writer. He was born at Macon, Georgia, February 3, 1842. He died at Lynn, North Carolina , September 8, 1881. The Laniers were Huguenots. Sidney Lanier's mother was a Mary Anderson, of Virginia. His father was a respected lawyer. Both sides of the family were noted for talent in music and for love of poetry. Sidney Lanier was graduated at Oglethorpe College, Georgia. He served in the Confederate army as a private, and toward the close of the war spent some time in a Northern prison. After his release he was for two years a clerk in a hotel in Montgomery. Subsequently he studied law and entered his father's office. In 1879 he was appointed lecturer on English Literature at the Johns Hopkins University . Never strong, hardship in camp and prison had left him with feeble health, and he was obliged to seek outdoor life. His wife underwent privation and a hand-to-hand conflict with poverty with the utmost faithfulness. During a long fight with poor health and poverty Lanier kept up his studies and his writing. His first novel, Tiger Lilies, was written in the hotel above mentioned. His university lectures resulted in two critical volumes, The Science of English Verse and The English Novel. He edited The Boys' Froissart, The Boys' King Arthur, The Boys' Percy, and other works. His fame rests, however, on a volume of poems that ranks high. The best known are The Song of the Chattahoochee, Corn, Tampa Robins, and The Marshes of Glynn. In genius, Lanier is deemed a fit successor of Poe. His works are published by Charles Scribner's Sons. Sidney Lanier and his verse deserve to be better known. His whole life was a gallant struggle with circumstance. Tennyson, Longfellow, and Lowell had opportunity from the first. Lanier's course was a buffeting from start to finish. His body was weak; his education, so he said, farcical; Georgia was prostrate; his pocket was empty; his ambition fairly wasted him away. The Song of the Chattahoochee is the song of a river. Wooed by bird, flower, tree, rock, and glen to "abide, abide," the river, filled with a sense of duty, into which we may read Lanier's own longings, glides, curves, dashes, frets, and brawls, and hurries away from fern and laurel to water the dusty plain. Here are a few liquid lines: The hickory told me manifold Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall Wrought me her shadowy self to hold; The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine, Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign, Said, Pass not, so cold, these manifold Deep shades of the hills of Habersham, These glades in the valleys of Hall. And oft in the hills of Habersham, And oft in the valleys of Hall, The white quartz shone, and the smooth brookstone Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl, And many a luminous jewel lone --Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist, Ruby, garnet, and amethyst-- Made lures with the lights of streaming stone.