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！
remitted my search for the moment； an ancient man； with an open mouth and
an inquiring eye； whom I never afterwards made out in Cambridge；
addressed me with a hospitable offer to show me the Washington Elm。
I thought this would give me time to embolden myself for the meeting with
the editor of the Atlantic if I should ever find him； and I went with
that kind old man； who when he had shown me the tree； and the spot where
Washington stood when he took command of the Continental forces； said
that he had a branch of it； and that if I would come to his house with
him he would give me a piece。 In the end； I meant merely to flatter him
into telling me where I could find Lowell； but I dissembled my purpose
and pretended a passion for a piece of the historic elm； and the old man
led me not only to his house but his wood…house； where he sawed me off a
block so generous that I could not get it into my pocket。 I feigned the
gratitude which I could see that he expected； and then I took courage to
put my question to him。 Perhaps that patriarch lived only in the past；
and cared for history and not literature。 He confessed that he could not
tell me where to find Lowell； but he did not forsake me； he set forth
with me upon the street again； and let no man pass without asking him。
In the end we met one who was able to say where Mr。 Lowell was； and I
found him at last in a little study at the rear of a pleasant；
old…fashioned house near the Delta。
Lowell was not then at the height of his fame； he had just reached this
thirty years after； when he died； but I doubt if he was ever after a
greater power in his own country； or more completely embodied the
literary aspiration which would not and could not part itself from the
love of freedom and the hope of justice。 For the sake of these he had
been willing to suffer the reproach which followed their friends in the
earlier days of the anti…slavery struggle： He had outlived the reproach
long before； but the fear of his strength remained with those who had
felt it； and he had not made himself more generally loved by the 'Fable
for Critics' than by the 'Biglow Papers'； probably。 But in the 'Vision
of Sir Launfal' and the 'Legend of Brittany' he had won a liking if not a
listening far wider than his humor and his wit had got him； and in his
lectures on the English poets； given not many years before he came to the
charge of the Atlantic； he had proved himself easily the wisest and
finest critic in our language。 He was already； more than any American
poet；
〃Dowered with the hate of hate； the scorn of scorn；
The love of love；〃
and he held a place in the public sense which no other author among us
has held。 I had myself never been a great reader of his poetry； when I
met him； though when I was a boy of ten years I had heard my father
repeat passages from the Biglow Papers against war and slavery and the
war for slavery upon Mexico； and later I had read those criticisms of
English poetry； and I knew Sir Launfal must be Lowell in some sort； but
my love for him as a poet was chiefly centred in my love for his tender
rhyme； 'Auf Wiedersehen'； which I can not yet read without something of
the young pathos it first stirred in me。 I knew and felt his greatness
some how apart from the literary proofs of it； he ruled my fancy and held
my allegiance as a character； as a man； and I am neither sorry nor
ashamed that I was abashed when I first came into his presence； and that
in spite of his words of welcome I sat inwardly quaking before him。 He
was then forty…one years old； and nineteen my senior； and if there had
been nothing else to awe me； I might well have been quelled by the
disparity of our ages。 But I have always been willing and even eager to
do homage to men who have done something； and notably to men who have
done something。 in the sort I wished to do something in； myself。 I
could never recognize any other sort of superiority； but that I am proud
to recognize； and I had before Lowell some such feeling as an obscure
subaltern might have before his general。 He was by nature a bit of a
disciplinarian； and the effect was from him as well as in me； I dare say
he let me feel whatever difference there was as helplessly as I felt it。
At the first encounter with people he always was apt to have a certain
frosty shyness； a smiling cold； as from the long； high…sunned winters of
his Puritan race； he was not quite himself till he had made you aware of
his quality： then no one could be sweeter； tenderer； warmer than he； then
he made you free of his whole heart； but you must be his captive before
he could do that。 His whole personality had now an instant charm for me；
I could not keep my eyes from those beautiful eyes of his； which had a
certain starry serenity； and looked out so purely from under his white
forehead； shadowed with auburn hair untouched by age； or from the smile
that shaped the auburn beard； and gave the face in its form and color the
Christ…look which Page's portrait has flattered in it。
His voice had as great a fascination for me as his face。 The vibrant
tenderness and the crisp clearness of the tones； the perfect modulation；
the clear enunciation； the exquisite accent； the elect dictionI did not
know enough then to know that these were the gifts； these were the
graces； of one from whose tongue our rough English came music such as I
should never hear from any other。 In this speech there was nothing of
our slipshod American slovenliness； but a truly Italian conscience and an
artistic sense of beauty in the instrument。
I saw； before he sat down across his writing…table from me； that he was
not far from the medium height； but his erect carriage made the most of
his five feet and odd inches。 He had been smoking the pipe he loved； and
he put it back in his mouth； presently； as if he found himself at greater
ease with it； when he began to chat； or rather to let me show what manner
of young man I was by giving me the first word。 I told him of the
trouble I had in finding him； and I could not help dragging in something
about Heine's search for Borne； when he went to see him in Frankfort； but
I felt at once this was a false start； for Lowell was such an impassioned
lover of Cambridge； which was truly his patria； in the Italian sense；
that it must have hurt him to be unknown to any one in it； he said；
a little dryly； that he should not have thought I would have so much
difficulty； but he added； forgivingly； that this was not his own house；
which he was out of for the time。 Then he spoke to me of Heine； and when
I showed my ardor for him； he sought to temper it with some judicious
criticisms； and told me that he had kept the first poem I sent him； for
the long time it had been unacknowledged； to make sure that it was not a
translation。 He asked me about myself； and my name； and its Welsh
origin； and seemed to find the vanity I had in this harmless enough。
When I said I had tried hard to believe that I was at least the literary
descendant of Sir James Howels； he corrected me gently with 〃James
Howel；〃 and took down a volume of the 'Familiar Let