IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I til 11^ l^ m 2.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 1.6 ^ 6" — ► ^,^> - ^/^ ?s. fi v» * ■ '/ Photographic Sciences Corporation 23 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. 14580 (716) 872-4503 "*• //,„ ^ ^ Ux ^ CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHM/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques v\ %^ ^o V »• These sketches were prepared at intervals in my leisure for Belford's Magazine. I had an idea that in the form in which they are cast, I could say some things which could not be said in any other way. Lest some might mistake my meaning, I will explain the object I had in view at the time I sent the first paper of the series to the printers. The old Professor, the reader will observe, is not always a mere talker, but must be considered in the light of a lecturer. The younger men are his foils. Occa- sionly they take part in the conversations, but only in a way that serves to assist the older man in giving utter- ance to his thoughts about the authors and works which come under review. The papers are largely suggestive, and though made up of talks, there is little actual dis- cussion in them. I have preferied to say just what I thought of living authors and their works, and while VI PREFACE. i often critical, the sketches are for the mont part personal. In my choice of subjects, I have selected such of the great names in literature as please me the best, and this may account for the appreciative character, I may say warmth, of my estimates of their genius. It was not my intention to make a book of these papers at first, but my publishers willing it otherwise, I yield to their desires. If anything I have said will cause the reader to turn to the pages of the great geniuses who have enlightened an age, and read the delightful poems, sketches and stories which they have given us, I shall feel more than satisfied with the work I have done. The Author, CIOJSTTI^NTS. ^♦-« PAGE Carlyle jv Emerson ^ 24, Holmes -o Lowell ^.. 74 Longfellow q. WhITTIER j^oQ Bryant 1^, 161 HOWELLS jg . Aldrioh 224 . \ ^.1 ■7 1 ^^^^ ERRATA. Prtfeoe-" an age " rtiould read, " our age". P««c 65- "Elaine "should read, "Eliana". 20—" a could be " should read, " could be". 'I 20-" The Robers " should read, " The Robbers", 38-" Carljiu ' shou' " .■,,i, «« Carlile". S4-" Johnson " ihould read, " In Jchnson's day". EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. -•-♦♦- No. 1. CARLYLE. It was a chill November evening, and the fire crackled and blazed from the great square old-fashioned fire-place in the old Professor's library. A thousand little elfish figures played about the hearthstone, and peered curiously out at the old man as they hopped from ingle to ingle, and danced with impish glee in the ruddy flame. The Pro- fessor sat back in his cosy easy chair, nodding dreamily over a book. The room was full of books — heavy tomes of science and philosophy, graceful volumes of poetry, and quaint editions of gentle Izaac and querulous Pepys. The Professor's weak spot was literature, and he loved to read and talk about his favourites in the great world of letters. He had invited his two nephews, Frank and Charles, to meet him in the library, and chat over books, and the men and women who write them. The young men were glad of the opportunity, so that they might exchange ideas with their uncle, and learn something about half -forgotten writers and their works. 10 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. 1 ', it It was eight o'clock before the "boys " came in, and after the customary greeting, they sat down, and Charles asked his uncle what he was reading. " I am reading," said the Professor, "the 'Sage of Chel- sea ;' that grand old author who for more than sixty years has charmed and delighted the world. There is a fascin- ation about him which I cannot resist, and would not if I could. With all his faults he is the Master. He is a mental paradox, the chief in irony and the heavier form of sarcasm. He has a firm unwavering belief in himself, and an inner consciousness of his own grandeur and great- ness. He writes as vigorously, and his expressions are as terse and unmistakable to-day as they were half a century ago, when he charmed us in the pages of the old Edinlmrgh Revietv. His meanings are not always plain, and the trick he has of using misknown and foreign words mar to some extent his writings ; but in spite of that he is still the head in criticism, biograi)hy, and history. His literature is a man's literature ; his thoughts are a man's thoughts ; his brain is the brain of an intellectual giant — - a brainful Magog. He appeals to the intellect in every- thing he says." " Does he not dislike poetry ?" asked Cliarles. " No, 1 think not. Not real poetry, such as Pope and CARLYLE. 11 Milton and Byron wrote ; not the grand odes of Words- worth, nor the delicious songs of Keats, nor the sonnets of Shakespeare. These he loves. There is life in them ; they awaken thought. Some of his finest essays have been about poetry and poets. He has done more to intro- duce the poetry of Goethe and Schiller into England than any other man ; and he has not been unmindful of the lessons taught by Burns. His review of Lockhart's life of the poet is one of the best of his papers. He wi'ote it in 1828, and since that time a hundred literary men have followed in his wake, and used his images in their own criticisms. He has left nothing to be said on the subject. He has exhausted it. It is written in better style than Sartor Resartiis, and not so jerky as his Latter-Day Pamphlets. The language is simpler, the sentences are less involved than usual, and the thought is nowhere con- fused. I think I can remember the closing words of the panegyric, without getting down the volume from the shelf. Yes, I have it. I have read it often, and it seems fresher and more beautiful with every successive reading. He says : — ' In pitying admiration, he lies enshrined in all our hearts, in a far nobler mausoleum than that one of marble ; neither will his Works, even as they are, pass away from the memory of men. While the Shakespeares 12 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. and Miltons roll on like mighty rivers through the country of Thought, bearing fleets of traffickers and assiduous pearl-fishers on their waves ; this little Valclusa Fountain will also arrest our eye : For this also is of Nature's own and most cunning workmanship, bursts from the depths of the earth, with a full gTishing current, into the light of day ; and often will the traveller turn aside to drink of its clear waters, and muse among its rocks and pines.'" " Capital, capital ! " cried Frank. " There's true poetry in that." " I think," said Charles, " that it is as a reviewer and critic that Carlyle appears to the better advantage. While he is not so cold-blooded as Jeffrey, nor so remorseless as Macaulay, he cuts keenly, and kills his game as the French tragedians do their actors — behind the scenes. He shoots with the silent air gun, and the unfortunate victim of his shafts finds himself hit almost before he begins to realize it. He is more incisive than Sydney Smith, and strikes quicker ; but he bears no malice." • " Why is it that Carlyle is so intensely German ? He sees a thousand beauties in Goethe, but nothing in Vol- taire. The ponderous literature of Germany unfolds the purest gems, diamonds of the first water ; the literature of France is composed of nobodies." CARLYLE. 13 " I am afraid the philosopher does not comprehend French literature, or understand Voltaire, or Rousseau, or Janin. He is so strongly Teutonic in his predilections, so intensely German in his likes and dislikes, that the light, feuilletonistic style of the French is too mercurial, too dazzling to retain his attention long enough for him to study it. He cannot bestow any praise on the southern thinker. I think Carlyle is hasty in forming his opinion, and his observations on Voltaire are incorrect and injudi- cious. In his Critical and Miscellaneous Essays he thus delivers himself in speaking of the French author : — " * He reads History not with the eye of a devout Seer, or even a Cuitic ; but through a pair of mere anti-catholic spectacles. It is not a mighty drama, enacted on the theatre of Infinitude, with Suns for lamps and eternity as a background; whose author is God, and whose purport and thousand-fold moral lead us up to the * dark with excess of light ' of the Throne of God ; but a poor weari- some debating-club dispute, spun through ten centuries, between the EncyclopSdie and the Sorhonne. God's uni- verse is a larger patrimony of St. Peter, from which it were well and pleasant to hunt out the Pope. * ♦ * The force necessary for him wa« nowise a great and noble one ; but a small, in some respects a mean one, to warn wmm mm 14 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. be nimbly and seasonably put in use. The Ephesian Temple, which it had employed many wise heads and strong arms, for a life time to build, could be 'M,'n,-built by one madman, in a single hour.' " " The French return the compliment," said Frank. " Taine dubs Carlyle ' a Mastodon, a relic of a lost family,' and his style he calls * magnificence and mud/ " " I grant you he does," said the Professor; " but Taine speaks noble words for the grim Scotchman. His estim- ate is on the whole quite correct, and he strives very hard to understand him. Carlyle, you know, does not always make himself understood. He takes it for granted that his readers are of equal intellectual calibre to himself ; that they comprehend every allusion he makes ; that they have read everything he has read, and thought what he has thought. He is a literary mammoth — a king among his fellows, like Johnson a hundred years ago. He com- mands silence when he speaks, but he has no Goldsmith to chide, or Garrick to worry, or servile Boswell to chron- icle his every movement and saying. He prefers the soli- tude of his home to the glare and glitter of the club-room. The garish lights disturb his mind. He is nervous, fidgetty, and ill at ease in repose. His peculiar tempera- ment makes him always active ; he cannot remain quiet. CARLYLE. 15 He was nearly eighty when he sent out his last work, and yet his style was vigorous, and his mind had undergone no change in force. It was as brilliant as when he wrote, half a century ago, his delightful sketch of Richter in the Great Review, and won his first spurs in ' Auld Reekie.' An English writer a few years ago thought Carlyle had written himself out, and advised, actually advised, the hardy sage of Ecclefechan to retire from an active life, because he published a silly letter on the French-German war. But the hale old prophet was not dead yet, and his well-prepared history of the Norse Kings of eld shows that he is capable of much good work for some years to come. He is determined to die with harness on his back. The same indomitable energy which characterized that other eminent reviewer. Lord Brougham, is the distin." guishing feature in Cailyle. His writings fill more than twenty large volumes, and embrace almost every class of letters, biography, history, science, philosophy, physiol-^ ogy, metaphysics, etc. Every thought is stamped with his own sign-manual ; his individuality is on every page. There is no mistaking the authorship. Every one recog- nises at a glance the quaint, misknown philology, the cur- ious phraseology, the almost savage witchery which gleams and glistens and intoxicates the reader at every turn. A 16 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. tinge of sadness pervades the semi-joviality of his chapters ; and it has a terrible effect on the reader. His French Revolution is a huge diorama of ghastly events, and the volumes are peopled with fearful apparitions and ghost-like spectres. The horrors of the Bastile, as painted by Carlyle, make us shudder with fear and rouse us to a frenzy. In no other work has he displayed so much dramatic power, or written with such tremendous effect. It stands alone an enduring monument to his genius. It is a pity, from an artistic point, that he should descend to vulgarities and crude allusions so frequently throughout this wonderful work. It is at once the production of the trag3dian and the buffoon; the grand story of ' Paradise Lost' begun by a Milton and finished by a Balzac. Carlyle delights in con- trasts. His whole literary career is one immense contrast ; and the more violent the contrast the better it suits him." " Do you consider his French Revolution his gieatest work ? " " No. I think Frederic the Great is his chef d'oeuvre. He spent more real labour on it. It was in full sympathy with his feelings that he commenced the work. He almost worshipped the valorous Prussian, and he loved to paint his successes in the field, and tell the story of his life in the palace. He has developed in this life a wonderful power CARLYLE. 17 of description, and a rare degree of penetration. The his- tory is full of Carlyle's extravagances of style, rough say- ings, and involved metaphor ; but for all that there are elo(j[uent passages throughout which almost surpass the warm periods of Macaulay. The battle of Leuthen, for instance, is skilfully drawn and admirably described; and his portrait of the great general is really sublime. He is melodramatic, too, and I fear a trifle inconsistent. He affects, you know, to despise man- worshippers, the hero worshipper, and yet he is a great offender in this very re- spect himself Again he thunders anathemas against affectation in his essay on Richter, and he is affected him- self, not in one book only, but in all his books. I make no exception. The sin of affectation appears in a more or less aggravated form in every page of Carlyle. I think his whole style is affected. His veiy inelegance is put on." " What you take for affectation, I think, is originality. Carlyle will take advice from no one. He hates humbugs and shams : he loves truth. He has no policy in shaping his essays. He is not the word-painter that Ruskin is, but he is a more vigorous reasoner, and a far more forcible writer. His style is better than Hume's or Stuart Mill's. He is a man of strong loves, amounting almost to tender- ness. While his opinions are not always correct, they are 18 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. it ' Hi ■lii always manly and outspoken and honest. A good deal of his strength will be found in The Latter-Day Pamphlets, a volume which should be in every library." " I have read the Pamphlets, and discovered that Carlyle is humorous, but his humour takes a practical turn. He indulges in a sort of philosophic raillery, a mixture of earnest and sport, severely playful I should call it." " I would rather term it more severe than playful," said Frank. " Carlyle is never playful. He writes with audacity, sometimes irreverently, but always boldly, even recklessly. He is an active author, a producer, a moulder of thought, an inventor. He is a hard author to read ; and his slang — intellectual slang, classical slang — is abom- inable." " He is the first German scholar in England, is he not ? " "Yes. Thimm, who wrote those ahnirable volumes, The Literature of Germany, considered Carlyle so. He it was who pronounced the life of Schiller, which Carlyle published in The London Magazine, a ' perfect classic' His Sartor Resartus, however, is the best of his lesser pub- lications. You will find much that is humorous in that. It was a good while before the Sage could find anyone willing to publish it. It went a-begging from one pub- CARLYLE. m lisher to the other, till the Regina folks, after many mis- givings, consented to take it. He was living in his quiet old home in Chelsea when that work came out, a near neighbour to Daniel Maclise the artist. I think it is full of good things, notably the chapter entitled ' Tailors. Swift has written nothing that can eclipse this : — " ' An idea has gone abroad, and fixed itself down into wide-spreading rooted error, that Tailors are a distinct species of physiology, not Men, but fractional Parts of a Man. Call anyone a Schneider (Cutter, Tailor), is it not in our dislocated, hood- winked, and indeed delirious con- dition of society, equivalent to defying his perpetual, fellest enmity ? The epithet Schneider-mdssiy (tailor- like J, betokens an otherwise unapproachable degree of pusillanimity : we introduce a Tailor's Melancholy, more opprobrious than any leprosy, into our Books of Medicine ; and fable I know not what of his generating it by living on Cabbage. Why should I speak of Hans Sachs (himself a shoemaker or kind of Leather-Tailor), with his Schneider mit dem Panier? Why of Shakespeare in his Taming of the Shrew, and elsewhere ? Does it not stand on record that the English Queen Elizabeth, receiving a deputation of eighteen tailors, addressed them with a 'Good morning, gentlemen both V Did not the same virago boast that she ^ 70^ u 20 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. V had a Cavalry Regiment whereof neither horse nor man a could be injured — her Regiment, namely, of Tailors on Mares ? Thus everywhere is the false word taken for granted, and acted on as an indisputable fact.' And again in the chapter ' Prospective,' the philosopher says : 'Clothes, from the king's mantle downwards, are emblematic not of want only, but of manifold cunning — Victory over want.' Some one said that Carlyle's wit reminded him of the German baron, who was discovered leaping on tables, and explained to an anxious inquirer the cause of this action by saying tliat he was learniny to he lively." " What I admire in Carlyle is his independence : his fearless advocacy of right, and denunciation of wrong. It was well for him that he did not live in the time of Pope. He never could be servile. His proud spirit would rebel against the custom that made Genius stoop to Wealth. The mind that painted so gorgeously the life of the au- thor of ' The Robers,' could not endure the man whose only attribute was the possession of gold or the accident of an aristocratic birth. He could not pander to a de- based nobility, nor give up his opinions for fear of offend- ing a vile state minister, who had the ear of kings and the power of armies at his beck. One can fanc3'' in Carlyle the courage of a Cromwell. Indeed he is a literary Crom- CAULYLK. 21 well. He has, however, no finesse. He would never make a diplomatist. He is toe open. He would say, if he thought so, with Galileo, the world moves ; but he would take no oaths to the contrary before he said so. He. is a believer in unity. He would cement man to man. He would bind, if he could, the whole human race togetlier. His range of thought is not uniform. He groups to- gether, with shocking taste, the lowest as well as the highest things. He is a Dickens and a Thack eray rolled into one, if I might be allowed the phrase." " What a grand preacher he would have made — a second Chalmers ! " " He narrowly escaped being a minister. His parents intended him for the Church, but he preferred the priest- hood of the writers of books to the priesthood of the ministry. Had he entered the Church, what sermons would he have preached : as rugged in thought as his own native Grampians ! He would indeed have been another Chalmers, or perhaps a Knox. He would have fulmined over Scotland as Milton's ' old man eloquent fulmined over Greece.' He would have swayed audiences with the same majestic eloquence which he employed so well in his inaugural address at Glasgow, ^when he was made Lord 22 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. Rector. The Church has lost a great man. I do not be- lieve his philosophy is Pantheistic." " Yet he is a great doubter. I never could quite under- stand why it was he preferred to take the gloomy side so often ; why he loved to interrupt the joyous thoughts which ran freely through hopeful, sanguine minds, with some rough objection or sneering cynicism. Even genial Leigh Hunt felt ill at ease in the Thinker's company He would demolish at a blow the thousand little footless fancies which the imaginative and pleasant essayist rattled off in his delightful conversation. Carlyle always took a taciturn view, and threw cold water on many a joyously conceived project which grew in the brain of Hunt. The bright, glorious starlight which the lively essayist seemed to think, in his delicious way, was all joy and gladness, and contained voices which sung an eternal song of hope in the soul of man, Carlyle considered a sad sight. The brilliant stars would yet become gaunt graves, for all living things must die and have an end." " I remember that story : and how Hunt sat on the ^•teps and hrM his sides with laughter, when Carlyle looked up at the heavens and thundered out, in unmistakably br ^d Scotch, ' Ech, but it is a sad sight ! ' Hunt was im- mensely tickled over it, but it was Carlyle all over. He CARLYLE. 23 would quarrel with the heavens if he thought they were not doing right, I firmly believe." " What position do you think Carlyle will hold in letters ? " " I consider him the foremost thinker of the age ; and his place is at the head of our philosophers and historians. He is our soundest modern author. With all his pecu- liarities, he is a Saul among his contemporaries," " How would you rank him beside America's Thinker,, Emerson ? " " I admire Emerson very much, and consider him second only to Carlyle. I have something to say about Emerson, but we had better reserve him for our next meeting. He must have an evening to himself." 24 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. No. 2. EMERSON. li; The next evening the little club met bright and early. There was a roaring lire on the hearth, and the snow was coming down handsomely. Baker's portrait of Bryant had come in from the bookseller's, and the trio expended much admiration over it. Certainly it is a clever per- formance. The portrait almost speaks. The expression is magnetic, and attracts at once. Mr. Baker is a thorough artist, and his work always leaves his hands in a finished state. His Longfellow was very faithful ; his Bryant is not less so. He seems to catch his subjects in their best moods, and his pictures resemble perfect crayons. Every line is drawn with exquisite taste. " I wish," said the professor, as he laid the print carefully away, " that Baker would give us Emerson some time. What a splendid face is his for a picture ! So full of intelligence, so thoroughly human and sincere." "Yes," said Charles, catching the old man's fervour, " Baker could do him full justice. I think, however, it is the intention to include him in this gallery of American 'I 1 EMERSON. 25 poets. When the series is completed, it will form a very delightful set of portraits." " We were speaking," said Frank, " at our last meeting, of Carlyle and Emerson. Do you believe that Emerson copies Carlyle, as some say he does ? " " No," said the Professor, " Emerson is an independent thinker. He has nowhere copied Carlyle, but has thought for himself; and though sometimes his ideas appear simi- lar to the Scotch Thinker's, on certain subjects, the analyst will find a wide difference when he comes to make a cri- tical examination. Emerson's imagination is more deli- cate, his language is less harsh, his imagery is more rounded, more perfect. He is never common-place nor coarse. He never offends. He is never boorish, nor vul- gar, nor ridiculous. His sentences are always carefully turned, and he never shocks you with a ribald jest. Like Higginson, he thinks that an essay may be thoroughly de- lightful without a single witticism, while a monotone of jokes soon grows tedious. Mr. Emerson is a philosopher, — a rapid thinker, not quite as deep or as ponderous as X)arlyle, and a keen analyzer of the myriad works of na- ture. His is a speculative mind, and his temperament is sanguine and warm. He is too fervent for some minds ; and the man who reads Herbert Spencer is very apt to B m ■1 26 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. J look coldly down on Emerson. He is not congenial in his atmosphere. The sun is too bright, and with a growl he hastens away, and seeks the shady side, and finds solace in the study of sociology and kindred topics. It is dif- ferent with the ardent admirer of Swinburne, with his thousand graceful, glowing, floating images, for he meets with a responsive soul in the Concord dreamer. And yet Swinburne is in uowise like Emerson. They differ widely, rather. The Victorian poet is all sensuality, and his heroes and heroines are clothed in the thinnest gauzy fabrics, and his poetry is of the age of Edmund Spenser and the matchless * Faerie Queene.' Emerson, on the contrary, exhibits no such traits in the witching verselets he has written. Then why should the same minds find so much that is in common between them ? Why do they yearn for each other ?" " Because, I take it, both men are so sincere in their work. Both present their own individuality in every page. Both are equally warm, hot-blooded if you will. Both treat their subjects with the same degree of vigour. They lift them up till they stand out boldly and prom- inently on their mental canvasses, like a portrait of Raphael's or a face like Rembrandt's. They stay in the mind. They remain fixed. We cannot banish them from EMERSON. 27 our thoughts. ' Atalanta ' lives in our memory like a pleasant, delightful dream, and we feel all the satisfying ecstacy which sweet music gives, as the mellow strain floats all around us. When Michael Angelo struck the marble block in histoiic Florence three centuries ago, and a figure filled with life sprang into existence, and aston- ished even old Rome itself, all the world proclaimed the tidings that a great genius was born among men. In a lesser degree that genius enters largely into Emerson's composition. His mind is surcharged with it. It must have vent. It must find an out-going channel. If it be true that, according to Rahel, the world can be astonished wHh the simple truth, then Emerson has long ago accom- plished this feat. He has astonished the world, for the simple truth, charmingly told, delights the reader of his voluminous works at every turn." "I grant you Emerson has genius, but he has no passion Swinburne possesses both genius and passion, but his pas- sion is much the greater force. They differ, too, in the mode of construction, in the building of those edifices which charm mankind. Emerson's structure is filled with libraries and quaint books. Swinburne builds only spac- ious halls and pretty alcoves ; and rare bits of statuary meet the eye at every turn, and curious bronzes of curious i 28 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. I ii'. pattern cunningly hid in nooks and out-of-the-way places, appear in view at odd times. Emerson is an instruc- tor — an educator. Swinburne is only a sweet singer, a graceful bard, a nineteenth century Minnesinger." " Emerson mistrusts a good deal. I think more so in his poetiy than in his prose, though it deadens his other- wise beautiful essays somewhat. He is often hopeful, never quite gloomy, though many times distrustful, and I think suspicious. It is the one thing from which I would nave his works free. He has no right to demolish the fanciful castle or the rich vase his delicious imagination conjures up for our enjoyment. He destroys the illusion at a blow, and the reader, after being lifted up almost to the third heaven, is let down again, not easily, but with a force that knocks all the sentiment out of him for a twelve month at least." "You think there is too much romance and reality about Emerson, then." " Not too much, but enough. Emerson is in every respect a genuine American author, — the first to set at defiance Sydney Smith's query, ' Who reads an American book V the first to direct his thoughts to his own country; the first to \&y the foundation of a new English literature; the first to -w > 'out the things of his own land. He as- EMERSON. 29 tonished everyone, and provoked some shai-p ridicule when he published his modest lines to a ' Humble Bee.' The sub- ject and treatment were laughed at by the same people who giggled over Wordsworth's homely verses — by those who took Scott {is their model, and recognised no one else. Emerson, however, whose mind was not as weak as Keats's or as sensitive as Byron's, heeded not his critics, nor the advice of Sir Fretful's good-natured friends, but continued elaborating and dressing up home incidents, home skies, home sky-larks and home nightingales, and home life. He did not expect to find in a new country those romantic and pleasant spots which abound everywhere in the three kingdoms beyond the sea, by the dull Rhone and sparkling Rhine. The rich scenery of the Hudson was as dear to him and to Irving, as the legendary water of the great German river is to the Teuton. He took the commonest things which he found by the wayside, or the river-side, or the brook -side, and he was artist enough to know how to lay on his colours with the best effect. It was hard to change the old ideas about poetry. It was difficult to upset the old theories about such things. Everyone read Byron and Scott. Few had known Washington AUston as a poet. Some remembered him as an artist, and all looked to the mother country for their readhig. Even 30 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. 1 1 1 i 'I ! I Irving is more of an English author than he is an Ameri- can. Cooper's Indian tales were new, and had little acceptance at first. It took years to change the minds of the people ; but a change did come at last, and then Emerson began to be understood. His readers caught his meaning. They realized all at once Emerson's position. The half -forgotten * Humble Bee ' became an idyl ; and if, as Halleck says, * to be quoted is to be famous,' Emerson soon got to be famous, for the * Humble Bee ' was quoted from one end of the land to the other. Its position in literature to-day is undeniable." " Have you ever seen that other poem of his, ' The Snow-storm ?' I think it is singularly beautiful." " Yes," said the Professor, " I once heard the poet Long- fellow recite it. It was in the early autumn and the leaves were just turning, and the wind rustled the half -brown half -green maple leaves across the lawn, in old Cambridge. The poet was sitting in his library, and the talk had been of Emerson, when the * Snow-storm ' chanced to be men- tioned. The old poet leaned back in his library chair, and seemingly inspired, repeated slowly the marvellous lines in a rich, clear voice. The effect on us both was electrical, and for some moments afterwards neither of us spoke a word. It semed to me like a new reading of an old, EMERSON. 81 The familiar passage from some well-thumbed page. I saw new beauties that I had not perceived before, and even now I never look upon a snow-storm, as it comes down in its fleecy folds, whirling lightsomely through the air in dcliglitfui uncertainty of destination, but Emerson's gi-and words i ing into my ears like the sound of silver bells, and I find myself going softly over the metrical numbers : " ' Announced by all the trumpets of the sky, Arrives the snow ; and, driving o'er the fields, Seems nowhere to alight ; the whited air Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven, And veils the farm-house at the garden's end- The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit Around the radiant fire-place, enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm. Come see the north- wind's masonry. Out of an unseen quarry, evermore Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer Curves his white bastions with projected roof Round every windward stake or tree or door : Speeding, the myriad-handed ; his wild work So fanciful, so savage ; naught cares he For number or proportion. Mockingly, On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths ; A swan- like form invest? the hidden thorn ; Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall, ill 1^ ]'U 1 32 KVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. Maugre the fanner'w Highs ; and at the gate A tapering turret overtops the work. And when his hours are numbered, and the world Is all his own, retiring as he were not, Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone, Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work. The frolic architecture of the snow.'" " It is indeed gorgeously set, and I do not wonder at your enthusiasm. Emerson aj^pears to say more in a little space than any other American poet. Look for instance at his shoft poem of * Letters.' The whole story is told in six brief lines. I admire that other bit of his, * Brahma,' very much. It is fantastic, but very pretty." " He never writes unintelligently or incomprehensively. His system precludes his doing so. He prunes and prunes, alters, amends and corrects. He labours hard t*^ make himself thoroughly intelligible. He is a man of unwearied literary industry, of tremendous endurance and untiring patience. Thoughts which may have reached the public before, and through other channels, become new and piquant after they pass through the mental filter of Emer- son. He adds a bit here, he lops off a bit there, and then develops the whole, till the thought becomes unmistaka- bly Emersonian. He has been known to re-write a single EMERSON. 88 .sentence twenty times before he was satisfied with it. He retouches as much as Tennyson, and works as hard as Bulwer used to do in his young days. Everything which he publishes, therefore, is complete." " He differs from Tennyson in that respect then, for the laureate is never complete. He is constantly altering, and every new edition of his poems is like an entirely new work." " Though I have great admiration for Emerson as a poet, I think that it is in the capacity of an essayist that his fame will rest. He has been called the American Carlyle. This is unjust to Emerson, and hardly fair to Carlyle. Both, however, have been called Pantheists, and perhaps that is the similarity people affect to see in them. For my part I see a considerable difference." ** There is width in Emerson's thought, wisdom in the bent of his mind, and his style is epigrammatic and beau- tiful. He is not quick in humour, and he often appears listless and dreamy. This is more noticeable in his essays, which are models of elegant writing, and condensed thought. Some discussion has arisen regarding Emerson's religious belief. He has been misrepresented a good deal, and some pei*sons unhesitatingly charge him with being 34 EVFNINGS [N THE LinilAllY. an unbeliever and little better than an infidel. He is a Transcendentalist, is he not ? " *' Yes, he is a professor of the New Faith, a strong apostle of Transcendentalism in its wider sense. He was one of the famous circle of Boston scholars, who followed the teach- ings of Kant and the German philosophy. They often met at good old Dr. Channing's for intellectual intercourse, but the great preacher's health was breaking up, and he felt unable to take the lead in this * newness' of thought movement. He gradually yielded to the bolder students and scholars, and the sessions were then held at George Ripley's house. Ripley soon became prominent as a leader in Transcendentalism. His mind was acute and liberal. He was fettered by no dogmas or creeds. His culture was unquestioned, and his literary power was considerable. A good digester of books, he was an able and fearless critic, and his reviews were always distinguished by their com- prehensiveness and breadth. He understood thoroughly the canons of criticism, and his opinions of men and books always ranked high. Ever kindly towards authors, he was just to his readers, and never uttered an uncertain sound. This humanity gave him power, and helped to make the fine reputation which he holds to-day among literary men of every shade. Ripley was the originator EMERSON. 35 of the Brook Farm project. The plan wa,s conceived in his library. Anionij the active memberH was Nathaniel Haw- thorne, who speaks of the Arcadian experiment somewhere in his note-books, and refers to it slightly in his delicate Bllthedale Roiiutncc. Eraerson visited the company fre- quently, and often t<'ilked over topics with them ; and in almost every way he gave the idea countenance, but he never was a regularly enrolled member of the organization. He was ^vith it, but not of it. Even Theodore Parker, whose sympathies were entirely with the Farm, belonged not to it, and Margaret Fuller was merely a guest." " Poor Margaret Fuller ! I remember once seeing a portrait of this ill-fated and brilliant lady, the most delightful conversationalist of her time. She was a friend of Carlyle, and for many years held the post of reviewer for Horace Greeley, The picture represented her as ex- tremely haggard and worn. Her intellect was too soon developed ; a prodigy in her younger days, she grew to womanhood shattered in constitution and broken down in health. The likeness was a good one of the woman as she was, but it gave no idea of the fine mind which she possessed. Mr. George W. Curtis gave the por- trait to Dr. Holmes, who knew Margaret Fuller well She was thoroughly acquainted with Greek, Latin, and Ger- Ii .!' 1 i 36 EVENINGS IN TEIE LIBRARY. man, and her papers about Goethe won universal admiration. A wonderful mimic, she gained the applause of children, and the terror of grown persons. Her peculiar manner made a disagreeable impression on strangers, and she had many jealous rivals. Mr. Emerson's first meeting with her is described as curious. He was instantly re- pelled, and thought he could never like her. He was disappointed. As soon as the first impression wore off, and he began to perceive her extraordinary powers of mind, and intellectual superiority over other women, he was gradually drawn towards her, and for ten years their friendship remained firm and unbroken. She formed conversation classes in Boston in 1839, and the most intel- lectual women of the city regularly attended. Miss Fuller, as president, opened every meeting with an extempore address, and then the conversation followed in the form of a discussion. Miss Fuller entertained rather lofty ideas of her own abilities. She once said, ' I now know all the people worth knowing in America, and I find no intellect comparable to my own.' For two years she edited Tlie Dial — a quarterly journal devoted to recondite and trans- cendental literature — and then resigned her post to Mr. Emerson. She afterwards went on the Tribune as book reviewer. EMERSON. 87 " I always undei'stood that Margaret Fuller was unfitted for that position, inasmuch as she could only write when she felt like it, and needed ample time for everything she did in a literary way." " She was unfit, so far as rapid work was concerned, but she always wrote wich a degree of polish and finish that was the delight of all readers, and her estimates of books were generally correct in the main. Horace Greeley knew she could do nothing hastily, and he humoured her ac- cordingly, and allowed her to work in her own leisurely way. Emerson always maintained a profound respect for her, and wrote a life of her some years ago, in conjunction with Charming and Clarke." " We were speaking of Emerson's religion, and you be- gan by saying he was a Transcendental ist. There are several forms of this belief. What does he believe ? " " Emerson's religion is what might be called a * reason- able ' religion. It is severely intellectual, yet founded on a simple faith. He investig-ites the ndracles of the Bible, and finds them to be merely a compilation. He takes nothing for granted, but examines everything for himself. He believes man's nature to be gooa, and only sometimes bad. He believes in the elucidations of science. His reli- gion is partly scienuuc, but not altogether. He believes 38 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. with Ocfcavius Frothingham, that infidels of all kinds are earnest men, are conscientious students, are zealous in- quirers after truth, and not merely scoffers at religious teachings. He is a liberal thinker. He loves the good which he finds in Voltaire, and in Paine, and in Carlyle, and in Bolingbroke, and rejects that which is not good in them. He does not worship the rising sun. He has praise and help for endeavour, if the endeavour be rightly conceived. He admits with Talleyrand, that ' nothing succeeds like success,' but he has a good word to say to him who tries to do right, though he fail in the end, and fall by the way-side. The wish to do well receives his encouragement. He is a helper. He does not keep to himself his vast learning, but he opens wide the intellec- tual door of his mind, and gives freely to all who seek them, the great, glorious truths and thoughts which come rush- ing from the teeming stores of his brain-shop. He gives out what he has taken in. He has digested the crude thought, and now it comes forth and goes forward into the world, clad in the warm Emersonian garb. He has marked it for his own. It is bright in the wonderful colouring it has r'^ceived. It is strong in a marvellous individuality. It is simple, for he has told the story in simple though ^rueat language. Emerson does not believe in infallible EMERSON. m dogmas, nor the iron sway of any creed. He bases his faith upon knowledge, and motive forms a part of his re- ligion. He is as firm as Carlyle in his hatred of hypo- crisy, deceit, and insincerity, and is as vigorous in denounc- ing every form of vice and fraud. He cultivates Sociality^ and would form brotherhoods among his people for the development and fosterment of homelike meetings, where all could gather round the board and feast on intellectual preserves. He would impress all with the golden truths ' love one another.' He respects the old theology because of its f»n;iq^ir '. but he does not believe in it. He holds advanced ideas. And yet Emerson's ancestors, for many generations, were sternly and inflexibly orthodox. He was the last one, and he broke away from the old schools He looked for ' more light,' he sought out new truths, he has discovered a new way, an untrodden path. He is the apostle of a new Faith." " But wasn't Emerson a Unitarian Minister ? " " Oh, yes. TIar v<.s in 1829. But he resigned his charge in two or thit yo?rs. He differed from his con- gregation, and his views underwent a change on some points. He considers the whole theory of revelation to be incorrect. He is not dogmatic, narrow, or exclusive. He believes the wc 'd began at the beginning, and that a m III i I r II 40 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. gradual development has year by year taken place, till events took a new shape. The seed grew into a plant, the plant put forth buds, and the rose blossomed and sprang into life in all beauty, loveliness, and strength. Super- natural interposition he considers obsolete. He wants in the place of old mysteries, darkness and superstitions, light, order, righteousness, goodness, and, as near as possi- ble, perfection in individual man. He would have no one bigoted or dogmatic. He would have boundless charity and openness of heart for all. He woulc^ Live liberality in its ample sense. He would nail down thv, judiced im- pressions of the narrow minded Zealot who deemed every one who differed from him to be a scoffer and an infidel. He even places his faith before charity, for charity is secondary, and a man's charity, sometimes, is confined solely to his own Church. Out of that pale, his charity is un- charitableness itself. He cherishes the sentiment of brotherhood, and guards it with a jealous care. He takes every man at his best, and always looks at t'^xe motives which actuate the being. He does justice to all. He would put God in their hearts. He believes in a bright religion. He peoples his faith with beautiful, delightful things. His imageries are always fanciful and pretty. He would not follow a man that was all sadness and sor- 41 H '-^ EMERSON. 41 row. He wants life in the Church, LIFE in the sermon, LIFE in the preacher's life. He detests religious contro- versies. There is no Christianity or religion in them. They are only petty squabbles, and they breed malice and hatred." " He holds high ideas regarding ma i and his future, too, I believe, and that no religion, no matter what its tenets are, is infallible ? All creeds are the necessary and struc- tural action of the human mind. A new faith, purer than any which exists with us now, is to come, and in time will supersede all others. The French Transcendentalists admire Emerson very much, and some of his works have been translated into French, and circulate widely in France. I have even met some people, on the other hand, who would not read Emerson, because they were told he was an unbeliever." " The world is full of such people. Most of them are beings who are afraid to think for themselves ; who must keep on in the old beaten track ; who denounce every one who believes differently from them. They are generally ignorant men, who are filled with superstition. Some few, however, boast of a pretty fair education, and love the Georgics of Virgil and revel in the adventures of the pious ^neas, and the songs of the blind Greek, and yet c i^ 42 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. I K I V. it: j reject Shelley because he was frail in his religious belief ; because some who knew no better, called him an Atheist." " Perhaps," said Charles, smiling, " they affect to read Homer in order to be counted among the learned men of the time. I once knew of a man who bought all the old classics, ^schylus, Thucydides, Sophocles, Euripides, Plo- tinus, and the like, and had them all bound uniformly, merely for show ; some of them he did not even open after they came home from the binder's, and of the contents of those which he did open he knew absolutely nothing. He had Pope's Homer and Derby's Iliad in his case, and when Bryant's Translation came out, it remained for days on his library table, for visitors to look at. Some of the leaves were even turned down in places. He once im- ported an expensive set of Balzac, in antique and rare binding, but he never read a line of the wonderful French novelist in his life. Tt is fashionable, perhaps, to assume a virtue if you have it not ; and it may be the conect thing to speak slightingly of Emerson, if you don't quite understand him. It is fashionable to call him an unbe- liever and a sceptic. Even the great humanitarian, Charles Dickens, did not escape in this respect. His re- ligion troubled a good many people, and the beautiful prose poem of * The Cluistmas Carol ' did not make them 1^ i EMERSON. IS belief ; Atheist." t to read 1 men of 1 the old des, Plo- liformly, pen after n tents of ing. He nd when days on le of the 3nce im- md rare French assume coriect 't quite n unbe- litarian, His re- 3autiful e them quite change their prejudiced views. They knew so well that he was not a Christian. And yet Dickens lived a pure, guileless life. The story of Tiny Tim and old Mar- ley's Ghost, and the loving words in which Dickens speaks of his Saviour, stand as proofs against the aspersions of hypocritical howlers who helped so much to embitter the declining years of his life. No one escapes these ' goody * persons. Genial, whole-souled Thackeray suffered, Haz- litt was traduced, and some have been found who even doubt gentle Greenleaf Whittier, a man whose whole life is blameless. They are the insects who hide themselves in the blankets of society, and, in the words of the Satirist, ' feed upon better flesh than their own.' " " Apart from his religious teachings, Emerson is a very pleasant Essayist. He delights in picturesque phraseo- logy, and he seems to love to watch the growth of thought, as with exquisite fancy he develops his subject. I know of no book that pleases me more than the series of essays called ' Society and Solitude.' Emerson's most felicitous thoughts are here. His article on Eloquence, his paper on Boohs, his elegant treatise on AH, are of themselves gems of literary composition. One never tires of reading them. They are so thoroughly finished, and come with such grace and ease from the author, that to peruse them is 44 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. 'All ft*' ■'■■ i like reading some favourite ifoeniyWonhworiKs Excursion for instance, or Goldsmith's Traveller. His lecture on Eloquence concludes thus grandly : " ' Eloquence, like every other art, rests on laws the most exact and determinate. It is the best speech of the best soul. It may well stand as the exponent of all that is grand and immortal in the mind. If it do not so become an instrument, but aspires to be somewhat of itself, and to glitter for show, it is false and weak. In its right ex- ercise, it is an elastic, unexhausted power, — who has sounded, who has estimated it ? — expanding with the ex- pansion of our interests and affections. Its great masters, whilst they valued every help to its attainment, and thought no pains too great which contributed in any man- ner to further it; — resembling the Arabian warrior of fame, who wore seventeen weapons in his belt, and in per- sonal combat used them all occasionally ; — yet subordi- nated all means ; never permitted any talent — neither voice, rhythm, poetic power, anecdote, sarcasm — to appear for show ; but were grave men, who preferred their integ- rity to their talent, and e^t 3emed that object for which they toiled, whether the prosperity of their country, or the laws, or a reformation, or liberty of speech or of the EMERSON. 45 press, or letters, or morals, as above the whole world, and themselves also.'" " Doesn't Emerson resemble Thoreau a little ?" "Thoreau resembles Emerson you mean. He was brought up alongside of Emerson and Hawthorne in Con- cord, and his writings at first were undeniably cast from the Emersonian mould. They were a good deal like the philosophers; they ran in the same groove, and appeared to be similar in every way. Unpleasant people said he borrowed largely from Carlyle and Emerson, and did so without credit. Any way he did write remarkably like his neighbour ; so much so indeed, that Mrs. Thoreau, the mother of the hermit, once said to a lady friend that * Mr. Emerson wrote very much like her son.' This was ex- ceedingly delicious, when it is remembered that the re- verse of this was the case. T^ oreau was something of a pretender, a semi-charlatan in literature. He was a good deal of the showman, and there was a vast amount of pre- tence about him. His life was a sham — a mockery. He essayed to be a hermit, and went off into the woods to re- side. He wanted to study nature, away from the haunts of men. He wanted to commune with himself, so he shut himself up in the woods, and awaited daily the hamper of toothsome provisions which his kind mother sent him, 46 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. He had thus the life of a hermit without any of ita incon- veniences or discomforts. While in the woods he made some wonderful discoveries, some of them quite equal to Mr. Jack Horner's ; the most notable of these were, the habits of the sc^uirrel, which he was foolish enough to print. Thoreau, however, before his death, published some clever things, but f 3w people believed in him, and he was always looked upon with suspicion. He held some ' advanced ' views, and possessed some originality, but he was so affected and unreal with it all, that few were found willing to believe in him, or in his philosophy. He has left behind some admirers, and they pretend to think Thoreau was ill-used and misjudged, but the circle is very small indeed." " Now I rather like Thoreau, and think you are too severe on him, because he committed a few errors in his youth. He did not steal from Emerson, but only bon*owed some of his thoughts. The language in which he framed them was his own He had an original mind, and the writings of his latter days are exceedingly happy. His thought, too, is vigorous, and his style is certainly terse if not delightful. I think you are hasty in denouncing Thoreau in so wholesale a manner. He was a man of EMERSON. 47 good parts, and he will be remembered as one of Concord's gi'eat men." " Well, have it as you will, perhaps I am a little preju- diced, but I hate plagiarism in any form. And next to that sin, I detest affectation, and Thoreau had that fault if he hadn't the other. In England Thoreau has few readers, while Emerson is almost as nmch appreciated as Carlyle and Matthew Arnold. Indeed the men of the Carlyle school of thought rank Emerson as one of them- selves. They hold some, though not all, characteristics in common. A few years ago Emerson went over to Eng- land, and visited a number of his old friends. His health was not good, and he appeared jaded and worn. His manner was still sweet and gentle, however, and his con- versation was as brilliant as it was a quarter of a century before. He was with Thomas Hughes a good part of the time, and when the author of those glorious Tom Brown books was made President of the London Working-men's College, Mr. Emeison attended the inauguration and made a short speech. He was greeted with a burst of applause so hearty and genuine that the building fairly shook. In the course of his remarks he made some excellent hits, and these were well taken by the audience. Here he met the sturdy stroke-oar of the Oxford crew, Mr. Darbishire, 48 EVENIN(JS IN THK LIIJIIARY. , .j^»^' ii !!! who pulled against the Harvards, and woi-sted them. This gentleman pleased Emerson very much. He was frank, oft-hand, and highly cultured, and good-humoured withal. By a happy ({notation in resonant Greek, he won at once the esteem of Emerson, who appreciated the say- ing, * neither a ship nor a tower was strong unless there were men in it.' Mr. Darbishire was the Professor of Physiology of the Working-men's College at this time. Hawthorne was the other great American who had visited this seat of learning with Mr. Hughes, during the Presi- dency of its founder, the Rev. Frederick Denison Maurice* brother-in-law to Mr. Hughes. The story-teller's speech on that occasion was in his felicitous style. Indeed he was more unreserved than usual, and spo'vC with epigram- matic pungency and fulness. He quite warmed up before his hearers, and every one seemed greatly pleased with him and his eftbrt. His fame was then at its height, and his books were beginning to be read in England. When it was known that he was the author of the charming pen pictures which had interested so many, there was much enthusiasm, and the novelist received a perfect ovation at the close of his address. " A little over three years ago Mr. Emerson returned home from his European trip, refreshed in mind and in •' .''(1 •.ni EMERSON. 49 ed them. He wa8 Linioured , he won tlie say- Ms there essor of s time, visited Presi- aiirice, speech leed he igram- before 1 with t, and When gpen much on at irned d in body. A few days after his arrival he gave an informal reception at his pleasant home in Concord. The attend- ance was large, for all wanted to do him homage. All wanted to welcome the kindly poet, whose big, throbbing, generous heart took them all in. Little children sat upon his knee, and others played about him on that genial day in June. Boys and girls romped before him on the fresh ^lass, and happy men and women vied with one another in paying their respect. They saw not the philosopher and bard, but one of themselves only. A simple-minded man and true friend. It was a day not to be forgotten, but always to be remembered." *' On the lecture platform, Mr. Emerson is sometimes ec- centric, and his manner is apt to startle the strnnger who not fandliar with his peculiarities. If his audiences . ..uw him it is all right, but if they do not, he very soon drives them into little fits of impatience, and every one speedily grows nervous and excited, not so much from what he says, but on account of the way in which he says it. His lectures are usually prepared on small slips of paper, and occasionally these become separated or entangled in sopje way. The lecturer, nothing daunted, stops short and deliberately proceeds to sort his papers out. When they suit him, he goes on with his discourse until another 1^ m 'J.: J! il 50 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. mishap occurs. This happens quite often, but no one seems to mind it, and the audience waits patiently till he is ready to continue on again." ** I should think an accident of this kind would bother him greatly." " It does not appear to. At all events he keeps right on, just as if nothing had gone amiss. I love to hear him lecture. His voice is full and round, and his utterance is distinct and musical. He has always a pleasant way with him on the platform, and he is so earnest and real and convincing, that he has the audience with him from the start, and he keeps them till the end. He never gets flighty, nor soars upward with a burst of eloquence like Car, enter or Chapin, but is rather measured in his style, and depends more on his sincerity and the elegance of his phraseology than upon oratorical tricks. His lectures are properly talks, and are effective from their very simplicity. He is one of the most popular platform celebrities in New England, and his addresses at the Boston Radical Club are models in their way. Emerson's reasoning faculties are very great. He has many friends and disciples among all classes of society, and his influence in both hemispheres, among educated people particularly, is wide-spread. He holds liberal views on all subjects, and the vast amount of EMERSON. 51 learning which he is able to bring to bear on them gives weight and effect to his opinions. He is one of the American authors who will live. He has such a happy way of saying charming things, that he is endeared to eveiy heart, and every one loves him for the good and noble deeds which he is always doing. He is almost as many-sided as the wit, humorist, essayist, novelist and logician, Wendell Holmes." " Let us consider Holmes at our next meeting. I have just been reading for the third time his Guardian Angel. " And I, his Autocrat for the fourth — by all means let us have the Doctor." " Very well, Holmes will occupy our third evening." 52 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. No. 3. HOLMES. " Holmes," said the Professor, the next evening, as he drew down the blinds and turned up the light, " seems never to grow old. Though he is running past the sixties, and nearing the seventies, he writes as humorously and with as much frerhness and vivacity as he did in '32, He is renewing his youth. It was only the other day he gave us the third of his great series, and since then a hun- dred delightful poems and songs have come from his pen. Nor does he wiite in the slow and measured style of Tom Campbell, the most musical of all poets, but his verses come like flashes of lightning, dazzling, bright, and lighting up everything around them. Campbell's soqgs read as if they cost him no eifort, the rhythm is so even and smooth ; but no poet took more pains with his work than did the author of Tlie Pleasures of Hope. His Last Man, one of the most beautiful yoems in the language, and an honour to any age, cost the bard many hours of hard •labour and thought. Holmes writes with a freedom that is surprising. When the inspiration is upon him he can go on and on unchecked, at a fabulous rate of speed. He HOLMES. 53 is the only poet living who can do things to order, at short notice, and do them well. If a grand dinner be given, Holmes must supply the poem. If a banquet be held, Holmes writes the song. If a festival be announced. Holmes furnishes the ode or delivers the oration. And whether it be a poem, a song, an ode or an address, the effort is a noble one, and fit to take its place beside any- thing which we have in our literature. He is always .lappy in these. His post-prandial speeches, too, are as elegant as those 'after-dinner talks across the walnuts and the wine,' which Dickens loved so well to deliver, and Thackeray so aptly conceived and failed so often to ex- press. Poor whole-souled Thackeray 1 What a relish there was to the remark he made to Dickens one evening, when on an occasion of this kind, after several failures, he sat down, not at all disconcerted or uneasy, and whispered, ' Dickens, I am sorry for you.' * What for ? ' said the Novelist. ' Because you have lost, just now, one of the finest speeches you ever heard in your life.' And no doubt he did, for Thackeray could conceive very fine things, even if he was sometimes bothered in the uttering of them." " We have numerous examples in literature of failures of this kind," said Charles. " Was it not Garrick who said li \ l! 54 fiVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. of Goldsmith that he wrote like an angel and talked like poor poll ? What a strange anomaly is here. The Vicar of Wakefield is a model of clear and elegant composition, yet its author could not make so small a thing as an after- dinner speech, in those grand old companies of scholars » wits and authors, which boasted of a Johnson, a Burke, a Reynolds, a Sheridan, and a Garrick." " Perhaps Goldsmith was awed into silence on account of the brilliancy of the company he was in," said Frank. " A man would require considerable nerve to face such a gathering, and everyone snubbed Goldsmith pretty much as he pleased. He even took slights from so mean a man as Davies. Do you know I think Holmes writes very much like Goldy. The same literary sunshine seems to glow in the pages of both. The broad humanity of the one shines out in the other, and both appeal directly to the heart and common sympathy of mankind, The coarse- ness of Goldsmith is typical of the age in which he lived, and Holmes reminds us in his writings of Goldsmith, with the vulgar element left out." " The only resemblance I can see between them," said Charles, " is that both men have written charming books, as both have an inexhaustible supply of humour. Holmes is so original in himself that he is really like no one but HOLMES. 55 himself. Some one has compared him to Shakespeare's ideal Pux;k, who wanted to put a girdle round the earth in forty minutes ; and Miss Mitford, again, likens him to the great Catholic John Dryden, or the keen-witted author of The Dunciad. For myself, I see in him a concentration of all that is beautiful in literature. When I grow weary of trying to find good things in the new books, I turn with relief to Holmes. When old Pepys becomes tire- some, and the old books afford me no pleasure, I pick up an odd volume of The Autocrat or The Professor, and straightway the worry leaves my mind, and a comforting solace is afforded me. He has been a most careful editor of his own works, and not a line could be expunged from his pages without creating a real loss to letters. He has written three great books. Hazlitt, in his Round Table, never uttered more felicitous things than Holmes does in these wonderful books, books which go directly to the heart, books as full of dainty things as ever Charles Lamb gave us in his Elaine, or Hunt printed in his elegant Seer, or Coleridge talked in his Friend." " I must join in your enthusiasm Charles," said the Professor. "Holmes is more than a pleasant talker. He is a deep thinker, but when he gives utterance to his thoughts he invests then\ with such healthy and good-natured play- 56 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. Ill fulness, that they are never dull or tedious. He has an exuberant fancy, and the philosophy which he teaches is of the speculative form. One must be healthy and strong to read Max Muller or Carlyle, but you can read Holmes at any time, on a sick-bed or in the convalescent's chair. The delicious raillery, the hundred teasing, playful fancies, the noisy fun and graceful imagery which abound all through his writings, make him a welcome visitor at all times and at all seasons. You never grow weary of Holmes, as you do sometimes of Raskin or Talfourd, agreeable as those essayists are. Holmes popularizes thought. The same easy-flowing diction characterizes his work, whether the subject be literary, scientific, or social. The sermons he finds in stones are not common- place or unprofitable to listen to. He clothes everything he touches in his warm glowing style, and the more one reads of this genial author the better he understands and likes him. His sentiment is as tender as Dickens's, and his wit is higher and more enduring, and of a superior mould to that of the author of Pickwick. As a novelist he is not as dramatic as Dickens is, nor has he as much imagination, but his characters are completer and more perfectly formed, and they grow with ten-fold more natu- ralness. Dickens's creations in the whole range of his HOLMES. 57 literature, with a few exceptions perhaps in Copperjield, are exaggerations, and often caricatures, but one sees no- thing of this element in Holmes. If his plots are slender* and the construction of his narratives is not as ingenious as Scott's, his story-telling is as charming, and his individ- uality is quite as striking. The dash which he has, and which Bulwer has not, makes us forget that Holmes lacks the strong inventive faculty so necessary in works of fiction. His Msie Venner is one of the most fascinating novels of our time. It is even more entertaining as a stoiy than The Guardian Angel, and it is a novel with a pur- pose. One cannot lay it down until he finishes it. The character-grouping is excellent, and the incidents are so intense, the dialogue so sprightly, the humour so keen — at times as grotesque as Hood's — the philosophy so evenly balanced, and the moral so healthful, that no one should miss reading it the second time. Ik Marvel's Reveries of a Bachelor is a book which should be read at a sitting, and Elsie Venner is a book of that class. It chaims, delights, and instructs. It is Holmes' snake story, and much that is curious and debatable will be found in it." "Perhaps," said Frank, " there is more philosophy and depth in Elsie Venner, but for my own part I give The Guardian Angel the preference. Look at the character- '■\ li I'' I! 1 ' I v\ 58 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. drawing in that story. Have you not met a score of * Gifted Hopkins's,' half-a-dozen * Byles Gridleys,' and no end of ' Myrtle Hazards ?' If you haven't, I have. I once mortally offended a young poetic asv)irant who sent me some verses of his to read. They were addressed to that very unpoetic subject, the ' Fog Horn,' and rnonotone rhymed with ozone, and it was full of queer metres and strange comparisons. I sent the verses back to him, after keeping them a reasonable time, with the remark that they reminded me of some of * Gifted Hopkins's ' efforts in the same line. He asked me who Mr. Hopkins was, and I referred him to the book. He never troubled me again, so I presume he discovered the doctor's poet. The book is full of vigorous writing, and Holmes's peculiar humour appears at every turn. That point is irresistible, I think, where the good old man confounds the two Scotts, Sir Walter, who wrote Ivanhoe, and the author of the Bible Commentary, together." " I must, notwithstanding what you say, adhere to the view I have first expressed. Elsie Venner is the more powerful tale. I can easily see your reason for pre- ferring Holmes' last story. An incident drew it more near to your heart and mind. 'Gifted Hopkins' and the young poet whom you certainly treated a_little ungenerously, f HOLMES. 59 the lore ipre- lear isly, made an impression on you, so you never think of Dr. Hohnes vvithout thinking of * Gifted Hopkins.' Your judgment is influenced almost unconsciously to yourself, The influencing force is of course small, but nevertheless it is quite strong enough to change the bent of youi- mind. Give the two books to any one who has never read either, or to one who had undergone no experience similar to yours, and unquestionably he would decide in favour of the snake story. That is my idea about it. Both, how- ever, are capital stories, and illustrate well Dr. Holmes' happy method of telling a story. His Breakfast-series, however, are his principal works, and they are destined to live a long while." " Yes, are they not splendid ? What a wealth of enjoy- able reading they contain, and what a mine of originality do they not develop? The prose is crisp, chatty, and nervous, the poetry is oriental in its magnificence and luxu- riance. Though there is much in common between him and Keats in their likes and dislikes, Holmes writes no- thing of a sensuous character. He does not think as Byron or Shelley, or the florid author of Endymion did. His fancies are like mettlesome steeds eager for a wild gallop across country. Keats walked timidly and list- lessly along bye-paths and narrow lanes, singing softly to i 60 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. himself all the while. Holmes revels in wide ficMs, and delights in leaping oceans and foaming cascades. He stops sometimes to pick a flower, or rest by some limpid stream, or bask in some grateful sunshine, but these are the oases in his journey. He loves the majestic trees of the forest, and takes delight in painting, in his own grand way, the life of the sturdy oak, the stately poplar, the many- tinted maple, and the noble elm. The trees, those giant sentinels of the wood, are to him, as they were to Irving and Garvie, objects of admiration and love, and he never tires of giving us exquisite and fanciful descriptions of them. What is more charming than his walk with the schoolmistress when they went out to look at the elms, and he talked little bits of philosophy to her, and watched the coming and going of the roses on her cheek. Or what is more delicious than that other talk of his at the break- fast-table, about oaks and elms and forest trees ? I feel almost like saying that Holmes is greater in his descrip- tion of quiet nature than in his other writings ; and when 1 think of what he has done in other walks I must pause." " Do you think the last of the set, The Poet, is equal to the first two of the seriefs, The Autocrat and The Professor ? " " Of course I do. The Poet exhibits the doctor with I HOLMES. 01 ith many of liis |)()wers wholly matured. His fancy is as rich as ever. I can see no difference. It may be because 1 have advanced in years, with the doctor, since The Auto- crat was written, and as his mind changed, so did mine, unknown to myself. The change comes gradually in us, and we do not perceive it ourselves. The Poet, to my mind, is the riper book. It is disposed to look more charitably on mankind. It doesn't notice little things, and is not so apt to criticise, as Frank, for instance, was when his friend immortalized the ' Fog Horn.' It is the fashion, you know, this year, to speak of the good old times, and de- preciate everything that is of late growth. There are men who cry out that Punch has lost its piquancy, and sigh for the days which gave us John Leech to come back again. They see no genius in Tenniel, no humour in Du Maurier, even if all his women do look alike ; and they miss the sparkling wit of Jerrold, and the pleasantries of Mark Lemon. They want Thackeray's thumb-nail sketches again, and they wish to hear Tennyson call Bulwer the * padded man who wore the stays ' once more. But who believes Punch has ceased to be witty ? 2' lie Autocrat was published twenty years ago. It was the f rst of its kind. The idea was new, and it was so good that many people thought Holmes could never equal those bright 62 KVKNINfJS IN THK LIHIIAIIY. ■'I If! pages again. Then The Professor and the .story of Iris came out a i'aw years later. Of course no one said it was infe- rior to The Autocrat. The critics were in despnir. The se- cond book was e((ual to the first. When The Poet joined his brethren tlie same criticism was applied, but I doubt if The Pod is at all behind either The Profennor or The Auto- crat. All of these appeared originally in Ths Atlantic^* " I remend)er once hearing Holmes describe the way in which the tirst luimber of that magazine was got up. He and some literary friends met together one evening in the fall of 1857, at a well-known tavern in Boston. The com- pany was a right royal one. It included Lowell, Emerson, Hazewell, Motley, Trowbridge, Holmes, and, if I mistake not, Longfellow. Putnam — a once prominent New York magazine — had gone down, and there was no proper vehi- cle for high-class literature then in existence. Messrs. Phillips, Sampson & Co. were prominent publishers then in Boston, and they were the publishers of The Atlantic for two years, when Messrs. Ticknor & Fields took charge of it. These eminent literary men of Cambridge and Boston, on that eventful evening, decided to give New England a magazine of which the country should feel proud. Emerson contributed an essay and several short poems, including ' Brahma.' Lowell furnished a poem ; I HOLMES. (33 I'ge I ill n Trowbridge, an essay, I tliink ; and Holmes, tlie first num- ber of his splendid creaticjn. The Autocrat of the Break- fast-tahle. It was a grand success from the beginning. That evening at the tavern was a convivial one, for 1 un- derstood at the time, that one at least of the married men, after he reached home, remembei'ed nothing next morning, except that he 'had asked his wife the same question several times during the night.' Holmes and the others have written for the magazine ever since, and in 18G7 the year's numbers of The Atlantic contained The Guardian Amjel Notwithstanding the fact that every number of lite Autocrat is thoroughly enjoyable, there was one num- ber, the eleventh paper, in which Holmes even surpassed himself. That issue contained three poems which have passed into history, and which will live. Holmes has never been so entirely successful since. At least one poem has been gi*and ; but here were three, and all of them classics, the famous ' One-horse Shay,' ' Contentment,' and ' Desti- nation.' " " I wonder why it is that so many good things have had their origin in taverns. They were wayside inns, I sup- pose." ' Yes. I can give no reason why the air of the tavern si dd draw so many literary men together ; but it has 64 KVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. been the case for many years. Johnson, and even before his time, in the age of Shakespeare, the men of letters met in taverns and talked and drank, and sometimes wrote their best things in them. But those places of refresh- ment were different from the taverns of our day, and our literary men have their club-rooms now t j meet and talk in. " Holmes's writings are full of quotable passages. He has uttered as many wise saws as George Eliot. A book of proverbs might easily be made from his works. It is a wonder to me he lias never turned his attention t-o criti- cism. He has all the attributes of a good critic' " Oh, he is too good-natured for a literary butcher. His mind is so delicate and his judgment so fine that very little would please him. He would see a thousand faults in a book. He dare not trust himself to criticise. He would be too severe. His ideas of the niceties are drawn very delicately, and I think he is wise not to say the cutting things he can when he likes. Leech and the satirists of the street organs have uttered nothing so bitter as this cou- plet on The Mimic Orinders — * Their discords sting through Bums and Moore, Like hedgehogs dressed in lace.' " What gems there are scattered here and there in ilie ) HOLMES. 65 \lie Autocrat. Listen to this: — 'Our brains are seventy -four clocks, The Angel of Life winds them up once for all, then closes the case, and gives the key into the hands of the Angel of the Resurrection. " 'Tic — tac ! tic-tac ! go the wheels of thought ; our will cannot stop them ; they cannot stop themselves ; sleep cannot still them ; niddness only makes them go faster ; death alone can break into the case, and seizing the ever- swinging pendulum, which we call the heart, silence at last the clicking of the terrible escapement we have carried so long beneath our wrinkled foreheads.' " How rich Holmes is in thoughts like these. His psy- chological study on the relations of body and mind is one of the best little treatises on this subject published. It formed the oration before the Phi-Beta Kappa Society of Harvard University, in 1870. It is full of great thoughts in a condensed form, and the graceful stylo in which it is written gives it a hold on the reader. It is a thin volume in bulk, but a deep one in matter. Some pleasant sayings and a few entertaining anecdotes, enliven it somewhat. It contains a great amount of information in a little space. Mechanism in Thought and Morals is a popular hand-book of a very pleasant science." " Yes, I have read it several times. It is a book you jf«.i 111': I' m C)C) EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. cannot read all at once and get the sense of it. You must study it a while, if you would read it with profit. Holmes' quaint humour is very delightful in this book. Witness his telling you to take a few whiffs of ether and cross over into the land of death for a few minutes, and come back with a return ticket ; to take chloroform, he grimly adds, and perhaps get no return ticket ! I think Holmes in some of these points is very like Tom Noel. The same intermingling of the pathetic with the lively frequently occurs. The grim humour of Noel's Pauper's drive to the churchyard, in the old rickety one-horse hearse, is the kind of humour we often meet in the Ameii- can poet's books. One can almost fancy them using the same figures and employing the same imagery. Noel has the element of humour only, while Holmes is a wit as well as a humori }t. The two qualities are not always identi- cal. Dickens was a humorist. Douglas Jerrold was a wit. Unite the qualities, a?id wit loses its severity. Divide them, and we find that humour lias a heart. Wit has no love for anyone. Humour has a wide humanity ; but wit is cruel and stabs as with a poignard. Some cynics have been great wits, but no cynics have ever been humorists. Swift was deliberate, cold-blooded, and as calculating as a literary ice-box. His heart was cold, unfeeling, callous ; ^ f HOLMES. 67 i) )us ; but his head was filled with the wildest, strangest, drollest fancies that ever man could have. He was a wit, but no humorist. Thackeray — warm-hearted, big-hearted Thackeray, was a humorist in its amplest sense. The Dean of St. Patrick's crushel his enemies with the rudest sallies of wit. The true satirist uses a keen-edged razor. Swift em})loyed a bludgeon. Of the two elements humour is the grandest. It rises higher than wit. We like the one. We are tricked sometimes with the other. Humour is always genial, always gentle, always human. Wit is the thorn, humour is the rose. We must be careful lest we prick ourselves with the former. It will not bear handling. No man ever made anything by bandying words with Sam Foote, who was graceless enough to wound the feelings of his best friends to raise a laugh. Did he not reply to his mother's request for aid, when she sent him word that she was in prison, with a 'dear mother, so am I.' The wit respects no one. He is an Ishmael, and his hand is raised ajjainst all mankind. He is one of passions ; and malice and envy, and sometimes hatred too, clatter and chatter at his heels. He likes to wander into the sunshine, for there his blade becomes brighter. But the warmth of the sun warms his intellect and his wits, but not his heart. BurU)n was a man of wit and humour. !R; I 68 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. . The two elements were united in him, and he was a man of much goodness of heart. Pope and Sydney Smith said sharp things, but they said them good-naturedly, and without malice. The quality of humour dulls the edge of wit and takes the sting out of it. Holmes's wit is genial^ the only wit we can admire, the only wit which does not injure, the wit which consorts with humour, and which forms the pungent faculty which we find in Tlie Autocrat, in such large extent, and in such pleasing variety." " I think the love which Holmes has for Italian poetry and story has had much to do with moulding his taste and shaping his verse. The language of Dante and An- gelo is liquid and mellow. Greek poetry glitters like the reflection which snow sends back to the sun, but the poetry of Rome and Florence is soft, low, sweet and musical, like the magnificent peals of some sacred organ. The poetry of the Greek is classic and intellectual, the poetry of Italy is warm and comes from the breast. Homer could not have written The Cotters Saturday Night, nor sung in the strain of the great Tasso. Our sweetest heart-pictures have come to us from lowly poets." " A good many have, but not all. In support of your arguiiient, you have Ned Farmer, who wrote the tender il f\ HOLMES. 69 lur ler verses of Little Jim ; Burns, Tannahill, Hogg, Petofi, the Magyar Hero, and some others ; but Longfellow, Tenny- son, Aldricli, Lowell, Howells, Bryant, and many others on the other side, have written fully as many descriptions of humble homes and life as they have. What better heart-piece do yo\i want than Holmes's splendid poem of Bill (ind Joe ; it is natural and life-like. And then take his family portrait, Z)oro^^2/ Q ,a poem with a history. I saw the original portrait of Dorothy Quincy,and the cruel hole in the hard old painting, which the soldier's bayonet made almost a century ago. Again, take another of Holmes's fine poems, 2^he Boys, in illustration of my argu- ment. You will find it in The Professor, at the end of the second paper. It exhibits Holmes's most playful mood, and concludes with this verse : ' Th«n here's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray, The stars of its winter, the dews of its May ; And when we have done with our life-lasting joys, Dear Father, take care of thy children, the Boys. ' " " And, in the same work. Holmes writes a charming poem of the heart, which he calls, felicitously. Under the Violets. The sentiment of it is very beautiful, and it is one of the tenderest poems in the language, and at the same time one of the most graceful." 70 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY Ha " Holmes's personal poems, the one to Longfellow, on his leaving for Europe, his tribute to a great man's gen- ius, his splendid lines to Bryant, on the seventieth birthday of that poet, in 1864, are the best efforts of the kind since Ben Jonson wrote his ode to the memory of the Swan of Avon. He is always saying pleasant things about his friends, and writing charming notes to them, as full of humour as his own delightful works. He is a pleasant companion, and his splendid social qualities en- dear him to every one. Lowell, in a neat distich, says of Holmes : * A Leyden-jar always full-charged, from which flit The electrical tingles of hit after hit. ' " " Holmes's lyrical pieces are among the best of his compositions. They breathe the s})irit of true minstrelsy, and are full of music. I have not touched upon his con- tributions to medical science. His works in this branch of literature are numerous, and his books have reached a wide sale among medical men. His Homoeopathic war is remembered as a vigorous onslaught on the Hahnemannian votaries, and a total annihilation of the enemies of Allo- pathy. The doctor is one of the most genial among men, a delightful conversationalist, and quick in repartee. His father was an author before him, and his history of the HOLMES. 71 his la ir in ian llo- eii, is he Rebellion is one of the most exhaustive works extant on the su Inject. This book is very scarce now, and out of print, and in its day enjoyed a fine reputation. " Holmes is a fine lecturer, and a few years ago had no equal on the [tlatform. The V)oldness of his style, and his happy mode of sayin^,' what he had to say, always gained on his audiences ; and his popularity remained the same, till of his own accord he gave up platform-speaking. Tra- vel and exposure to night air interfered with his health, and he was forced to give U}), what to him was always a favourite pursuit. His medical lectures on anatomy and surgery before the students of Harvard are not the least delightful of his literary and professional performances. His students love him, and always speak of him in words of grateful and kindly remembrance. Holmes is liberal in his religious belief. He cannot tolerate cant, deceit, and hypocrisy. He is a man of ever-enduring hu- manity, and true Christian charity. He holds no narrow sectarian views, and he detests revivals, and considers them the enemies of religion. He believes in no such spasmodic bursts. The revival element thrives only among the weak-minded and the ignorant. His is the elevating Christianity which shines out gloriously in such teachinirs as these : 72 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. •I I ' > i^ l" ^!n i 1 1 • i '- 1 ■\ 1 J y i i ' Yes, child of suflFering, thou mayest well be sure, He who ordained the Sabbath loves the poor ! ' or in this, ' You hear that boy laughing? — You think he's all fun ; But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done ; The children laugh loud as they troop to his call. And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all.' or in this sweet memorial hymn which he wrote for the services in memory of Abraham Lincoln, ' Be thou thy orphaned Israel's friend, Forsake thy people never, In One our broken Many blend. That none again may sever ! Hear us, O Father, while we raise With trembling lips our song of praise. And bless thy name forever ! ' " Oliver Wendell Holmes's religion is contained in those lines, and his principles breathe out in all his works. He is a close reasoner." " Do you like his style as well as you do Lowell's ? You know you are an enthusiast over the New England poet." " I do like to read Lowell, but not more than Holmes. The two writers differ very materially from one another. HOLMES. 78 One should read both, and he will then have read two of the most charming writers in the world. I think we can hardly do better than discuss Professor Lowell at our next meeting. That is, of course, if it be agreeable to the com- pany." *' Certainly, I'm willing." " And I too. I must read his Court hi over atjain." E 74 EVENINGS IN THE LIBRARY. i.-i ; i No. 4. LOWELL. " John Sheldon has told us that old friends are the best, and that King James used to call for his old shoes, because they were the easiest for his feet," said the pro- fessor at the next a.isembly in the library, " and I have asked you to consider Lowell to-night, because he is one of my favourites. Perhaps I am selfish, but I love to talk of the poet of Elmwood, and the delightful conceits which people his brain, and the splendid literary work he has performed. His is a superior genius, and every year gives greater evidence of the growth and fertility of his won- derful mind. He is one of that coterie of Boston scholars, one of that famous Harvard class, which has enriched our common literature, and which gives such splendid promise for the future. Lowell, perhaps, is the most English of them all in style, though the most thoroughly American in his feeling and sentiments. He has given us little more than half a dozen books, but these cover a wide range, and not one of them has been written in vain. Three volumes of essays, literary and social, one book of fire-side travels, and a few books of poetry, complete his labours in ill LOWELL. 76 I the ;hoes, 5 pro- have is one o talk which \ni has irives won- holars, ed our romise ish of lerican e more range, Three re-side ours in •• letters. His writings show as wide scholarshij) as Addi- son's and as much careful ohsi-rvance of nature. For many yea