按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页,按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页,按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部!
————未阅读完?加入书签已便下次继续阅读!
attitude if not a new sort in literature。 The turn that civic affairs
had taken was favorable to the widest recognition of Whittier's splendid
lyrical gift; and that heart of fire; doubly snow…bound by Quaker
tradition and Puritan environment; was penetrating every generous breast
with its flamy impulses; and fusing all wills in its noble purpose。 Mrs。
Stowe; who far outfamed the rest as the author of the most renowned novel
ever written; was proving it no accident or miracle by the fiction she
was still writing。
This great New England group might be enlarged perhaps without loss of
quality by the inclusion of Thoreau; who came somewhat before his time;
and whose drastic criticism of our expediential and mainly futile
civilization would find more intelligent acceptance now than it did then;
when all resentment of its defects was specialized in enmity to Southern
slavery。 Doctor Edward Everett Hale belonged in this group too; by
virtue of that humor; the most inventive and the most fantastic; the
sanest; the sweetest; the truest; which had begun to find expression in
the Atlantic Monthly; and there a wonderful young girl had written a
series of vivid sketches and taken the heart of youth everywhere with
amaze and joy; so that I thought it would be no less an event to meet
Harriet Prescott than to meet any of those I have named。
I expected somehow to meet them all; and I imagined them all easily
accessible in the office of the Atlantic Monthly; which had lately
adventured in the fine air of high literature where so many other
periodicals had gasped and died before it。 The best of these; hitherto;
and better even than the Atlantic for some reasons; the lamented Putnam's
Magazine; had perished of inanition at New York; and the claim of the
commercial capital to the literary primacy had passed with that brilliant
venture。 New York had nothing distinctive to show for American
literature but the decrepit and doting Knickerbocker Magazine。 Harper's
New Monthly; though Curtis had already come to it from the wreck of
Putnam's; and it had long ceased to be eclectic in material; and had
begun to stand for native work in the allied arts which it has since so
magnificently advanced; was not distinctively literary; and the Weekly
had just begun to make itself known。 The Century; Scribner's; the
Cosmopolitan; McClure's; and I know not what others; were still
unimagined by five; and ten; and twenty years; and the Galaxy was to
flash and fade before any of them should kindle its more effectual fires。
The Nation; which was destined to chastise rather than nurture our young
literature; had still six years of dreamless potentiality before it; and
the Nation was always more Bostonian than New…Yorkish by nature; whatever
it was by nativity。
Philadelphia had long counted for nothing in the literary field。
Graham's Magazine at one time showed a certain critical force; but it
seemed to perish of this expression of vitality; and there remained
Godey's Lady's Book and Peterson's Magazine; publications really
incredible in their insipidity。 In the South there was nothing but a
mistaken social ideal; with the moral principles all standing on their
heads in defence of slavery; and in the West there was a feeble and
foolish notion that Western talent was repressed by Eastern jealousy。
At Boston chiefly; if not at Boston alone; was there a vigorous
intellectual life among such authors as I have named。 Every young writer
was ambitious to join his name with theirs in the Atlantic Monthly; and
in the lists of Ticknor & Fields; who were literary publishers in a sense
such as the business world has known nowhere else before or since。 Their
imprint was a warrant of quality to the reader and of immortality to the
author; so that if I could have had a book issued by them at that day I
should now be in the full enjoyment of an undying fame。
V。
Such was the literary situation as the passionate pilgrim from the West
approached his holy land at Boston; by way of the Grand Trunk Railway
from Quebec to Portland。 I have no recollection of a sleeping…car; and I
suppose I waked and watched during the whole of that long; rough journey;
but I should hardly have slept if there had been a car for the purpose。
I was too eager to see what New England was like; and too anxious not to
lose the least glimpse of it; to close my eyes after I crossed the border
at Island Pond。 I found that in the elm…dotted levels of Maine it was
very like the Western Reserve in northern Ohio; which is; indeed; a
portion of New England transferred with all its characteristic features;
and flattened out along the lake shore。 It was not till I began to run
southward into the older regions of the country that it lost this look;
and became gratefully strange to me。 It never had the effect of hoary
antiquity which I had expected of a country settled more than two
centuries; with its wood…built farms and villages it looked newer than
the coal…smoked brick of southern Ohio。 I had prefigured the New England
landscape bare of forests; relieved here and there with the tees of
orchards or plantations; but I found apparently as much woodland as at
home。
At Portland I first saw the ocean; and this was a sort of disappointment。
Tides and salt water I had already had at Quebec; so that I was no longer
on the alert for them; but the color and the vastness of the sea I was
still to try upon my vision。 When I stood on the Promenade at Portland
with the kind young Unitarian minister whom I had brought a letter to;
and who led me there for a most impressive first view of the ocean; I
could not make more of it than there was of Lake Erie; and I have never
thought the color of the sea comparable to the tender blue of the lake。
I did not hint my disappointment to my friend; I had too much regard for
the feelings of an Eastern man to decry his ocean to his face; and I felt
besides that it would be vulgar and provincial to make comparisons。 I am
glad now that I held my tongue; for that kind soul is no longer in this
world; and I should not like to think he knew how far short of my
expectations the sea he was so proud of had fallen。 I went up with him
into a tower or belvedere there was at hand; and when he pointed to the
eastern horizon and said; Now there was nothing but sea between us and
Africa; I pretended to expand with the thought; and began to sound myself
for the emotions which I ought to have felt at such a sight。 But in my
heart I was empty; and Heaven knows whether I saw the steamer which the
ancient mariner in charge of that tower invited me to look at through his
telescope。 I never could see anything but a vitreous glare through a
telescope; which has a vicious habit of dodging about through space; and
failing to bring down anything of less than planetary magnitude。
But there was something at Portland vastly more to me than seas or
continents; and that was the house where Longfellow was born。 I believe;
now; I did not get the right house; but only the house he went to live in
later; but it served; and I rejoiced in it with a rapture that could not
have been more genuine if it h