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and flexible and obedient； that a cart…horse lives an easy life
compared to theirs while they were in training。
The Master cut in just hereI had sprung the trap of a
reminiscence。
When I was a boy；he said；some of the mothers in our small town；
who meant that their children should know what was what as well as
other people's children； laid their heads together and got a dancing…
master to come out from the city and give instruction at a few
dollars a quarter to the young folks of condition in the village。
Some of their husbands were ministers and some were deacons； but the
mothers knew what they were about； and they did n't see any reason
why ministers' and deacons' wives' children shouldn't have as easy
manners as the sons and daughters of Belial。 So； as I tell you； they
got a dancing…master to come out to our place；a man of good repute；
a most respectable man；madam （to the Landlady）； you must remember
the worthy old citizen； in his advanced age； going about the streets；
a most gentlemanly bundle of infirmities；only he always cocked his
hat a little too much on one side； as they do here and there along
the Connecticut River； and sometimes on our city sidewalks； when
they've got a new beaver； they got him； I say； to give us boys and
girls lessons in dancing and deportment。 He was as gray and as
lively as a squirrel； as I remember him； and used to spring up in the
air and 〃cross his feet；〃 as we called it； three times before he came
down。 Well； at the end of each term there was what they called an
〃exhibition ball；〃 in which the scholars danced cotillons and
country…dances； also something called a 〃gavotte；〃 and I think one or
more walked a minuet。 But all this is not whatI wanted to say。 At
this exhibition ball he used to bring out a number of hoops wreathed
with roses； of the perennial kind； by the aid of which a number of
amazingly complicated and startling evolutions were exhibited； and
also his two daughters； who figured largely in these evolutions； and
whose wonderful performances to us； who had not seen Miss Taglioni or
Miss Elssler； were something quite bewildering； in fact； surpassing
the natural possibilities of human beings。 Their extraordinary
powers were； however； accounted for by the following explanation；
which was accepted in the school as entirely satisfactory。 A certain
little bone in the ankles of each of these young girls had been
broken intentionally； secundum artem； at a very early age； and thus
they had been fitted to accomplish these surprising feats which threw
the achievements of the children who were left in the condition of
the natural man into ignominious shadow。
Thank you；said I；you have helped out my illustration so as to
make it better than I expected。 Let me begin again。 Every poem that
is worthy of the name； no matter how easily it seems to be written；
represents a great amount of vital force expended at some time or
other。 When you find a beach strewed with the shells and other
spoils that belonged once to the deep sea； you know the tide has been
there； and that the winds and waves have wrestled over its naked
sands。 And so； if I find a poem stranded in my soul and have nothing
to do but seize it as a wrecker carries off the treasure he finds
cast ashore； I know I have paid at some time for that poem with some
inward commotion； were it only an excess of enjoyment； which has used
up just so much of my vital capital。 But besides all the impressions
that furnished the stuff of the poem； there has been hard work to get
the management of that wonderful instrument I spoke of；…the great
organ； language。 An artist who works in marble or colors has them
all to himself and his tribe； but the man who moulds his thought in
verse has to employ the materials vulgarized by everybody's use； and
glorify them by his handling。 I don't know that you must break any
bones in a poet's mechanism before his thought can dance in rhythm；
but read your Milton and see what training； what patient labor； it
took before he could shape our common speech into his majestic
harmonies。
It is rather singular； but the same kind of thing has happened to me
not very rarely before； as I suppose it has to most persons； that
just when I happened to be thinking about poets and their conditions；
this very morning； I saw a paragraph or two from a foreign paper
which is apt to be sharp； if not cynical； relating to the same
matter。 I can't help it； I want to have my talk about it； and if I
say the same things that writer did； somebody else can have the
satisfaction of saying I stole them all。
＇I thought the person whom I have called hypothetically the Man of
Letters changed color a little and betrayed a certain awkward
consciousness that some of us were looking at him or thinking of him；
but I am a little suspicious about him and may do him wrong。＇
That poets are treated as privileged persons by their admirers and
the educated public can hardly be disputed。 That they consider
themselves so there is no doubt whatever。 On the whole； I do not
know so easy a way of shirking all the civic and social and domestic
duties； as to settle it in one's mind that one is a poet。 I have；
therefore； taken great pains to advise other persons laboring under
the impression that they were gifted beings； destined to soar in the
atmosphere of song above the vulgar realities of earth； not to
neglect any homely duty under the influence of that impression。 The
number of these persons is so great that if they were suffered to
indulge their prejudice against every…day duties and labors； it would
be a serious loss to the productive industry of the country。 My
skirts are clear （so far as other people are concerned） of
countenancing that form of intellectual opium…eating in which rhyme
takes the place of the narcotic。 But what are you going to do when
you find John Keats an apprentice to a surgeon or apothecary？ Is n't
it rather better to get another boy to sweep out the shop and shake
out the powders and stir up the mixtures； and leave him undisturbed
to write his Ode on a Grecian Urn or to a Nightingale？ Oh yes； the
critic I have referred to would say； if he is John Keats； but not if
he is of a much lower grade； even though he be genuine； what there is
of him。 But the trouble is； the sensitive persons who belong to the
lower grades of the poetical hierarchy do notknow their own
poetical limitations； while they do feel a natural unfitness and
disinclination for many pursuits which young persons of the average
balance of faculties take to pleasantly enough。 What is forgotten is
this； that every real poet； even of the humblest grade； is an artist。
Now I venture to say that any painter or sculptor of real genius；
though he may do nothing more than paint flowers and fruit； or carve
cameos； is considered a privileged person。 It is recognized
perfectly that to get his best work he must be insured the freedom
from disturbances which the creative power absolutely demands； more
absolutely perhaps in these slighter artists than in the great
masters。 His nerves must be steady for him to finish a rose…leaf or
the fold of a nymph's drapery in