"
And then everybody is seized with an impulse to whisper to everybody
else, "Now we are to have the Star Spangled Banner."
It is evident that the American nation hungers and thirsts after
something over which it may wax patriotic and loyal. It has no monarch,
and the absurdity of becoming enthusiastic over GRANT'S cigar is only
too manifest. It is therefore obliged to content itself with simulating
a frantic admiration of the Flag.
Now the flag is rather a pretty one, and to people north of MASON and
DIXON'S line, possesses many interesting associations. But the doggerel
which the late Mr. KEY attempted to celebrate it, is not altogether
above reproach. Beginning with the Bowery interrogative "Sa-ay," and
ending with a reference to the "land of the free and the home of the
brave," which the late ELIJAH POGRAM, or the present NATHANIEL BANKS
might have written, it is simply the weakest of rhymed buncombe wedded
to the cheapest of pinchbeck music. And yet we fancy ourselves inspired
when we hear it.
Fortunately, as sung at the BEETHOVEN festival, the words are drowned by
the music, and the music by the artillery. It thus becomes an
inarticulate patriotic "yawp," of tremendous ear-splitting power.
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