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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/8222.txt b/8222.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ccd9dc --- /dev/null +++ b/8222.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7024 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Early Letters of George Wm. Curtis +by G. W. Curtis, ed. George Willis Cooke + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Early Letters of George Wm. Curtis + +Author: G. W. Curtis, ed. George Willis Cooke + +Release Date: June, 2005 [EBook #8222] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on July 3, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EARLY LETTERS OF GEORGE WM. CURTIS *** + + + + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Beth Trapaga +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + + + + +EARLY LETTERS OF GEORGE WM. CURTIS + +TO + +JOHN S. DWIGHT: +Brook Farm and Concord + + +Edited by +George Willis Cooke + + + + +CONTENTS + +EARLY LIFE AT BROOK FARM AND CONCORD +EARLY LETTERS TO JOHN S. DWIGHT +LETTERS OF LATER DATE + + + + +EARLY LIFE AT BROOK FARM AND CONCORD + + +George William Curtis was born in Providence, February 24, 1824. From the +age of six to eleven he was in the school of C.W. Greene at Jamaica +Plain, and then, until he was fifteen, attended school in Providence. His +brother Burrill, two years older, was his inseparable companion, and they +were strongly attached to each other. About 1835 Curtis came under the +influence of Ralph Waldo Emerson, who was heard by him in Providence, and +who commanded his boyish admiration. Burrill Curtis has said of this +interest of himself and his brother that it proved to be the cardinal +event of their youth; and what this experience was he has described. + +"I still recall," he says, "the impressions produced by Emerson's delivery +of his address on 'The Over-Soul' in Mr. Hartshorn's school-room in +Providence. He seemed to speak as an inhabitant of heaven, and with the +inspiration and authority of a prophet. Although a large part of the +matter of that discourse, when reduced to its lowest terms, does not +greatly differ from the commonplaces of piety and religion, yet its form +and its tone were so fresh and vivid that they made the matter also seem +to be uttered for the first time, and to be a direct outcome from the +inmost source of the highest truth. We heard Emerson lecture frequently, +and made his personal acquaintance. My enthusiastic admiration of him and +his writings soon mounted to a high and intense hero-worship, which, when +it subsided, seems to have left me ever since incapable of attaching +myself as a follower to any other man. How far George shared such +feelings, if at all, I cannot precisely say; but he so far shared my +enthusiastic admiration as to be led a willing captive to Emerson's +attractions, and to the incidental attractions of the movement of which he +was the head; and Emerson always continued to command from us both the +sincerest reverence and homage." + +Burrill went so far as to discontinue the use of money and animal food; +both the brothers discarded the conventional costumes in matters of dress, +and their interest was enlisted in the reforms of the day. The family +removed to New York in 1839, George studied at home with tutors, and was +an attendant at the church of Dr. Orville Dewey. + + +I + +The warm and active interest of the brothers in the Transcendental +movement, in all its phases, led them to propose to their father that +he permit them to attend the school connected with the Brook Farm +Association. Permission having been granted, they became boarders there +in the spring or summer of 1842. At no time were they members of the +association, and they paid for their board and tuition as they would +have done at any seminary or college. + +At this time the Brook Farm Association had two sources of income--the +farm of about two hundred acres, and the school which was carried on in +connection therewith. In fact, the school was more largely profitable than +the farm, and was for a time well patronized by those who were in general +sympathy with the leaders of the association. George Ripley was the +teacher in philosophy and mathematics, George P. Bradford in literature, +John S. Dwight in Latin and music, Charles A. Dana in Greek and German, +and John S. Brown in theoretical and practical agriculture. A six years' +course was arranged in preparation for college, and three years were given +to acquiring a knowledge of farming. The pupils were required to work one +hour each day, the idea being that this was conducive to sound +intellectual training. + +It would seem, however, that Curtis gave only a part of his time to +study, as is indicated in a letter written to his father in June, 1843, +and published in the admirable biography by Mr. Edward Gary. "My life +is summery enough here," he writes. "We breakfast at six, and from +seven to twelve I am at work. After dinner, these fair days permit no +homage but to their beauty, and I am fain to woo their smiles in the +shades and sunlights of the woods. A festal life for one before whom +the great stretches which must be sailed; yet this summer air teaches +sea life-navigation, and I listen to the flowing streams, and to the +cool rush of the winds among the trees, with an increase of that hope +which is the only pole-star of life." + +At Brook Farm, Curtis studied Greek, German, music, and agriculture. The +teaching was of the best, as good as could have been had in any college +of the country at that time, and was thorough and efficient. Much more of +freedom was allowed the students than was usual elsewhere, both as to +conditions of study and recitation, and as to the relations of the pupils +to the instructors. The young people in the school were treated as +friends and companions by their teachers; but this familiarity did not +breed contempt for the instructors or indifference to the work of the +school. On the other hand, it secured an unusual degree of enthusiasm +both for the teachers and for the subjects pursued. The work of the +school went on with somewhat less of system than is thought desirable in +most places of instruction; but in this instance the results justified +the methods pursued. The teachers were such as could command success by +their personal qualities and by their enthusiastic devotion to their +work. + +The two years spent at Brook Farm formed an important episode in the life +of George William Curtis. It is evident that he did not surrender himself +to the associationist idea, even when he was a boarder at Brook Farm and a +member of its school. He loved the men and women who were at the head of +the community; he found the life attractive and genial, the atmosphere was +conducive to his intellectual and spiritual development; but he did not +surrender himself to the idea that the world can be reformed in that +manner. In a degree he was a curious looker-on; and in a still larger way +he was a sympathetic, but not convinced, friend and well-wisher. If not a +member, he retained throughout life his interest in this experiment, and +remembered with delight the years he spent there. He more than once spoke +in enthusiastic terms of Brook Farm, and gave its theories and its +practice a sympathetic interpretation. In one of his "Easy Chair" essays +of 1869 he described the best side of its life: + +"There is always a certain amount of oddity latent in society which rushes +to such an enterprise as a natural vent; and in youth itself there is a +similar latent and boundless protest against the friction and apparent +unreason of the existing order. At the time of the Brook Farm enterprise +this was everywhere observable. The freedom of the antislavery reform and +its discussions had developed the 'come-outers,' who bore testimony in all +times and places against church and state. Mr. Emerson mentions an apostle +of the gospel of love and no money who preached zealously but never +gathered a large church of believers. Then there were the protestants +against the sin of flesh-eating, refining into curious metaphysics upon +milk, eggs, and oysters. To purloin milk from the udder was to injure the +maternal affections of the cow; to eat eggs was Feejee cannibalism and the +destruction of the tender germ of life, to swallow an oyster was to mask +murder. A still selecter circle denounced the chains that shackled the +tongue and the false delicacy that clothed the body. Profanity, they said, +is not the use of forcible and picturesque words; it is the abuse of such +to express base passions and emotions. So indecency cannot be affirmed of +the model of all grace, the human body.... + +"These were harmless freaks and individual fantasies. But the time was +like the time of witchcraft. The air magnified and multiplied every +appearance, and exceptions and idiosyncrasies and ludicrous follies were +regarded as the rule, and as the logical masquerade of this foul fiend +Transcendentalism, which was evidently unappeasable, and was about to +devour manners, morals, religion, and common-sense. If Father Lamson or +Abby Folsom were borne by main force from an antislavery meeting, and the +non-resistants pleaded that these protestants had as good right to speak +as anybody, and that what was called their senseless babble was probably +inspired wisdom, if people were only heavenly minded enough to understand +it, it was but another sign of the impending anarchy. And what was to be +said--for you could not call them old dotards--when the younger +protestants of the time came walking through the sober streets of Boston +and seated themselves in concert-halls and lecture-rooms with hair parted +in the middle and falling upon their shoulders, and clad in garments such +as no known human being ever wore before--garments which seemed to be a +compromise between the blouse of the Paris workman and the peignoir of a +possible sister? For tailoring underwent the same revision to which the +whole philosophy of life was subjected, and one ardent youth, asserting +that the human form itself suggested the proper shape of its garments, +caused trowsers to be constructed that closely fitted the leg, and bore +his testimony to the truth in coarse crash breeches. + +"These were the ludicrous aspects of the intellectual and moral +fermentation or agitation that was called Transcendentalism. And these +were foolishly accepted by many as its chief and only signs. It was +supposed that the folly was complete at Brook Farm, and it was +indescribably ludicrous to observe reverend Doctors and other Dons coming +out to gaze upon the extraordinary spectacle, and going about as dainty +ladies hold their skirts and daintily step from stone to stone in a muddy +street, lest they be soiled. The Dons seemed to doubt whether the mere +contact had not smirched them. But droll in itself, it was a thousandfold +droller when Theodore Parker came through the woods and described it. +With his head set low upon his gladiatorial shoulders, and his nasal +voice in subtle and exquisite mimicry reproducing what was truly +laughable, yet all with infinite _bonhomie_ and with a genuine +superiority to small malice, he was as humorous as he was learned, and as +excellent a mime as he was noble and fervent and humane a preacher. On +Sundays a party always went from the Farm to Mr. Parker's little country +church. He was there exactly what he was afterwards when he preached to +thousands of eager people in the Boston Musichall; the same plain, +simple, rustic, racy man. His congregation were his personal friends. +They loved him and admired him and were proud of him; and his geniality +and tender sympathy, his ample knowledge of things as well as of books, +drew to him all ages and sexes and conditions. + +"The society at Brook Farm was composed of every kind of person. There +were the ripest scholars, men and women of the most aesthetic culture and +accomplishment, young farmers, seamstresses, mechanics, preachers--the +industrious, the lazy, the conceited, the sentimental. But they were +associated in such a spirit and under such conditions that, with some +extravagance, the best of everybody appeared, and there was a kind of high +_esprit de corps_--at least, in the earlier or golden age of the colony. +There was plenty of steady, essential, hard work, for the founding of an +earthly paradise upon a rough New England farm is no pastime. But with the +best intention, and much practical knowledge and industry and devotion, +there was in the nature of the case an inevitable lack of method, and the +economical failure was almost a foregone conclusion. But there was never +such witty potato-patches and such sparkling cornfields before or since. +The weeds were scratched out of the ground to the music of Tennyson or +Browning, and the nooning was an hour as gay and bright as any brilliant +midnight at Ambrose's. But in the midst of all was one figure, the +practical farmer, an honest neighbor who was not drawn to the enterprise +by any spiritual attraction, but was hired at good wages to superintend +the work, and who always seemed to be regarding the whole affair with the +most good-natured wonder as a prodigious masquerade.... + +"But beneath all the glancing colors, the lights and shadows of its +surface, it was a simple, honest, practical effort for wiser forms of life +than those in which we find ourselves. The criticism of science, the sneer +of literature, the complaint of experience is that man is a miserably +half-developed being, the proof of which is the condition of human society, +in which the few enjoy and the many toil. But the enjoyment cloys and +disappoints, and the very want of labor poisons the enjoyment. Man is made, +body and soul. The health of each requires reasonable exercise. If every +man did his share of the muscular work of the world, no other man would be +overwhelmed by it. The man who does not work imposes the necessity of +harder toil upon him who does. Thereby the first steals from the last the +opportunity of mental culture--and at last we reach a world of pariahs and +patricians, with all the inconceivable sorrow and suffering that surround +us. Bound fast by the brazen age, we can see that the way back to the age +of gold lies through justice, which will substitute co-operation for +competition. + +"That some such generous and noble thought inspired this effort at +practical Christianity is most probable. The Brook Farmers did not +interpret the words,'the poor ye have always with ye,' to mean,'ye must +always keep some of you poor.' They found the practical Christian in him +who said to his neighbor, 'Friend, come up higher.' But, apart from any +precise and defined intention, it was certainly a very alluring +prospect--that of life in a pleasant country, taking exercise in useful +toil, and surrounded with the most interesting and accomplished people. +Compared with other efforts upon which time and money and industry are +lavished, measured by Colorado and Nevada speculations, by California +gold-washing, by oil-boring, and by the stock exchange, Brook Farm was +certainly a very reasonable and practical enterprise, worthy of the hope +and aid of generous men and women. The friendships that were formed there +were enduring. The devotion to noble endeavor, the sympathy with all that +is most useful to men, the kind patience and constant charity that were +fostered there, have been no more lost than grain dropped upon the field. +It is to the Transcendentalism that seemed to so many good souls both +wicked and absurd that some of the best influences of American life +to-day are due. The spirit that was concentrated at Brook Farm is +diffused, but it is not lost. As an organized effort, after many downward +changes, it failed; but those who remember the Hive, the Eyrie, the +Cottage; when Margaret Fuller came and talked, radiant with bright humor; +when Emerson and Parker and Hedge joined the circle for a night or a day; +when those who may not be publicly named brought beauty and wit and +social sympathy to the feast; when the practical possibilities of life +seemed fairer, and life and character were touched ineffaceably with good +influence, cherish a pleasant vision which no fate can harm, and remember +with ceaseless gratitude the blithe days of Brook Farm." + +Curtis returned to the same subject in 1874, in discussing Frothingham's +biography of George Ripley. Some of the errors into which writers about +Brook Farm had fallen he undertook to correct, to point out the real +character of the association, and its effort at the improvement of +society. + +"The Easy Chair describes Brook Farm as an Arcadia, for such in effect was +the intention, and such is the retrospect to those who recall the hope +from which it sprang.... The curious visitors who came to see poetry in +practice saw with dismay hard work on every side, plain houses and simple +fare, and a routine with little aesthetic aspect. Individual whims in +dress and conduct, however, were exceptional in the golden age or early +days at Brook Farm, and those are wholly in error who suppose it to have +been a grotesque colony of idealogues. It was originally a company of +highly educated and refined persons, who felt that the immense disparity +of condition and opportunity in the world was a practical injustice, full +of peril for society, and that the vital and fundamental principle of +Christianity was universally rejected by Christendom as impracticable. +Every person, they held, is entitled to mental and moral culture, but it +is impossible that he should enjoy his rights as long as all the hard +physical work of the world is done by a part only of its inhabitants. Were +that work limited to what is absolutely necessary, and shared by all, all +would find an equal opportunity for higher cultivation and development, +and the evil of an unnatural and cruelly artificial system of society +would disappear. It was a thought and a hope as old as humanity, and as +generous as old. No common mind would have cherished such a purpose, no +mean nature have attempted to make the dream real. The practical effort +failed in its immediate object, but, in the high purposes it confirmed and +strengthened, it had remote and happy effects which are much more than +personal. + +"It is an error to suppose that many of the more famous +'Transcendentalists' were of the Brook Farm company. Mr. Emerson, for +instance, was never there except as a visitor. Margaret Fuller was often a +visitor, and passed many days together as a guest, but she was never, +except in sympathy, one of the Brook Farmers. Theodore Parker was a +neighbor, and had friendly relations with many of the fraternity, but he +seldom came to the farm. Meanwhile the enterprise was considered an +unspeakable folly, or worse, by the conservative circle of Boston. In +Boston, where a very large part of the 'leaders' of society in every way +were Unitarians, Unitarian conservatism was peremptory and austere. The +entire circle of which Mr. Ticknor was the centre or representative, the +world of Everett and Prescott and their friends, regarded Transcendentalism +and Brook Farm, its fruit, with good-humored wonder as with Prescott, or +with severe reprobation as with Mr. Ticknor. The general feeling in regard +to Mr. Emerson, who was accounted the head of the school, is well expressed +by John Quincy Adams in 1840. The old gentleman, whose glory is that he was +a moral and political gladiator and controversialist, deplores the doom of +the Christian Church to be always racked with differences and debates, and +after speaking of 'other wanderings of mind' that 'let the wolf into the +fold,' proceeds to say: 'A young man named Ralph Waldo Emerson, a son of my +once-loved friend William Emerson, and a classmate of my lamented son +George, after failing in the every-day avocations of a Unitarian preacher +and school-master, starts a new doctrine of Transcendentalism, declares all +the old revelations superannuated and worn out, and announces the approach +of new revelations.' Mr. Adams was just on the eve of his antislavery +career, but he continues: 'Garrison and the non-resistant Abolitionists, +Brownson and the Marat Democrats, phrenology and animal magnetism, all come +in, furnished each with some plausible rascality as an ingredient for the +bubbling caldron of religion and politics.' C.P. Cranch, the poet and +painter, was a relative of Mr. Adams, and then a clergyman; and the +astonished ex-President says: 'Pearse Cranch, _ex ephebis_, preached here +last week, and gave out quite a stream of Transcendentalism most +unexpectedly.' + +"This was the general view of Transcendentalism and its teachers and +disciples held by the social, political, and religious establishment. The +separation and specialty of the 'movement' soon passed. The leaders and +followers were absorbed in the great world of America; but that world has +been deeply affected and moulded by this seemingly slight and transitory +impulse. How much of the wise and universal liberalizing of all views and +methods is due to it! How much of the moral training that revealed itself +in the war was part of its influence! The transcendental or spiritual +philosophy has been strenuously questioned and assailed. But the life and +character it fostered are its sufficient vindication." + +The school at Brook Farm brought together there a large number of bright +young people, and they formed one of the chief characteristics of the +place. The result was that the life was one of much amusement and healthy +pleasure, as George P. Bradford has said: + +"We were floated away by the tide of young life around us. There was +always a large number of young people in our company, as scholars, +boarders, etc., and this led to a considerable mingling of amusement in +our life; and, moreover, some of our company had a special taste and skill +in arranging and directing this element. So we had very varied amusements +suited to the different seasons--tableaux, charades, dancing, masquerades, +and rural fetes out-of-doors, and in winter, skating, coasting, etc." + +In her "Years of Experience," Mrs. Georgiana Bruce Kirby, who was at Brook +Farm for very nearly the same period as Curtis, has not only given an +interesting account of the social life there, but she has especially +described the entertainments mentioned by Mr. Bradford. Two of these +occasions, when Curtis was a leading participant, she mentions with +something of detail. + +"At long intervals in what most would call our drudgery," she says, "there +came a day devoted to amusement. Once we had a masquerade picnic in the +woods, where we were thrown into convulsions of laughter at the sight of +George W. Curtis dressed as Fanny Ellsler, in a low-necked, short-sleeved, +book-muslin dress and a tiny ruffled apron, making courtesies and +pirouetting down the path. It was much out of character that I, a St. +Francis squaw, in striped shirt, gold beads, and moccasins, should be +guilty of such wild hilarity. Ora's movements were free and graceful in +white Turkish trousers, a rich Oriental head-dress, and Charles Dana's +best tunic, which reached just below her knee. She was the observed of all +observers. + +"In the midwinter we had a fancy-dress ball in the parlors of the Pilgrim +House, when the Shaws and Russells, generous friends of the association, +came attired as priests and dervishes. The beautiful Anna Shaw was superb +as a portly Turk in quilted robe, turban, mustache, and cimeter, and bore +herself with grave dignity. + +"George W. Curtis, as Hamlet, led the quadrille with Carrie Shaw as a Greek +girl. His sad and solemn 'reverence' contrasted charmingly with her sunny +ease. He acted the Dane to the life, his bearing, the melancholy light in +his eyes, his black-plumed head-cover, and his rapier glittering under his +short black cloak, which fell apart in the dance, were all perfect. It was +a picture long to be remembered, and as long as I could watch these two I +had no desire to take part in the dance myself." + +Another phase of Curtis's life at Brook Farm she also mentions, and it +gives a new insight into his character. The occasion described was a +social Sunday evening spent in the parlor of the Eyrie: + +"At supper it was whispered that George W. Curtis would sing at the Eyrie, +upon which several young men volunteered to assist with the dishes. My +services were also cordially accepted.... And now we ascended the winding, +moonlit path to the Eyrie, where Curtis was already singing. We went up +the steps of the building cautiously, lest a note of the melody which +floated through the open French windows should be lost to us. Entering the +large parlor, we found not only the chairs and sofas occupied, but the +floor well covered with seated listeners. + +"I did not at first recognize the operatic air, so admirably modified and +retarded it was, and its former rapid words replaced by a sad and touching +theme, which called for noble endurance in one borne down by suffering. +The accompaniment consisted of simple chords and arpeggios, a very plain +and sufficient background. Curtis, though not yet twenty--not nineteen, if +I remember rightly--had a grave and mature appearance. He was full of +poetic sensibility, and his pure, rich voice had that sympathetic quality +that penetrates to the heart.... Curtis was not ever guilty of singing a +comic song. It would indeed have been most inappropriate to our intensely +earnest mood. Often his brother would join him in a duet with his +agreeable tenor. + +"Low praises and half-spoken thanks were murmured as the grave and gracious +young friend, at the expiration of an hour, swung round on the piano-stool +and attempted to make his exit." + +In his "Cheerful Yesterdays," Colonel T.W. Higginson has described the +same life as an onlooker. Although not a member of the community at Brook +Farm, he was somewhat in sympathy with it--at least, with the people of +whom it was composed. At the time he was living in Brookline and teaching +the children of a cousin. "Into this summer life," he writes, "there +occasionally came delegations of youths from Brook Farm. Among these were +George and Burrill Curtis, and Larned, with Charles Dana--all presentable +and agreeable, but the first three peculiarly costumed. It was then very +common for young men in college and elsewhere to wear what were called +blouses--a kind of hunter's frock, made at first of brown holland, belted +at the waist, these being gradually developed into garments of gay-colored +chintz, sometimes, it was said, an economical transformation of their +sisters' skirts or petticoats. All the young men of this party but Dana +wore these gay garments, and bore on their heads little round and +visorless caps with tassels." + +"I was but twice at Brook Farm," Higginson continues, "once driving over +there to a fancy ball at 'the Community,' as it was usually called, where +my cousin Barbara Channing was to appear in a pretty Creole dress made of +madras handkerchiefs. She was enthusiastic about Brook Farm, where she +went often, being a friend of Mrs. Ripley.... Again, I once went for her +in summer and stayed for an hour, watching the various interesting +figures, including George William Curtis, who was walking about in +shirtsleeves, with his boots over his trousers, yet was escorting a young +maiden with that elegant grace which never left him. It was a curious fact +that he, who was afterwards so eminent, was then held wholly secondary in +interest to his handsome brother Burrill, whose Raphaelesque face won all +hearts, and who afterwards disappeared from view in England. But if I did +not see much of Brook Farm on the spot, I met its members frequently at +the series of exciting meetings for Social Reform in Boston." + +Other reminiscences of Brook-Farmers tell of the Curtis brothers and their +active part in the amusements of the place. They were leaders among the +young people, and they had those gifts of social guidance which placed +them at the head of whatever entertainment was being organized. Their +grace of manner and beauty of face and figure also won consideration for +them, so that they were accepted into every circle and found friends on +every hand. It seems that Burrill was at this time regarded as the +handsomer, but in time George gained the chief place in this regard. Their +courtesy led them to help those whose labors were hard, to aid the women +in the laundry at their tasks, and to assist them in hanging out the +clothes on washing-days. In the evening the clothes-pins which had been +thrust into a pocket found their way to the floor of the dancing-room. + +One of the members of the community has written that the brothers "looked +like young Greek gods. Burrill, the elder, with a typical Greek face and +long hair falling to his shoulders in irregular curls," she says, "I +remember as most unconscious of himself, interested in all about him, +talking of the Greek philosophers as if he had just come from one of +Socrates' walks, carrying the high philosophy into his daily life, helping +the young people with hard arithmetic lessons, trimming the lamps daily at +the Eyrie, where the two brothers came to live (my sister saw George +assisting him one day, and occasionally, she says, he turned his face with +a disgusted expression, trying to puff away the disagreeable odor), never +losing control of himself, with the kindest manner to every person. He and +George seemed very companionable and fond of each other. + +"George, though only eighteen, seemed much older, like a man of +twenty-five, possibly, with a peculiar elegance, if I may so express it; +great and admirable attention, as I recollect, when listening to any one; +courteous recognition of others' convictions and even prejudices; and +never a personal animosity of any kind--a certain remoteness of manner, +however, that I think prevented persons from becoming acquainted with him +as easily as with Burrill." + +In his "Memories of Brook Farm," Dr. John T. Codman mentions the +occasional returns of Curtis to the Farm after he had left it, and says +he heard him singing the "Erl King," "Kathleen Mavourneen," and "Good-night +to Julia" "in his inimitable manner." Everything goes to indicate that +he was a favorite, not only with the younger persons, but with those who +were older. He had already developed a mature thoughtfulness, and gave +indications of his power as a writer and speaker. His fondness for music, +and his enthusiastic study of it under Dwight's leadership is an +indication of that aesthetic appreciation which he kept through life, +and which appeared in his mastership of prose style. + +At first each one helped himself to the food placed on the table in the +dining-room at the Hive, or those at the table helped each other. In this +way more or less confusion was produced, and the results were +unsatisfactory. Accordingly, Charles Dana organized a group, including +Curtis and other young men of character and good breeding, to act as +waiters. Dana took his place at the head of this group of voluntary +servants, who performed their duties with grace and alacrity. "It is +hardly necessary to observe," says Mrs. Kirby, "that the business was +henceforth attended to with such courtly grace and such promptness that +the new _regime_ was applauded by every one, although it did appear at +first as if we were all engaged in acting a play. The group, with their +admired chief, took dinner, which had been kept warm for them, afterwards, +and were themselves waited upon with the utmost consideration." + + +II + +While at Brook Farm, Curtis was on intimate terms with most of the persons +there. He greatly admired Mr. and Mrs. Ripley, and he frequently wrote to +Mrs. Ripley and made of her a sort of mother-confessor. He also highly +appreciated the scholarly qualities of Charles Dana, and his capacity as a +leader. In his letters he frequently mentions "the two Charleses," who +were Charles Dana and Charles Newcomb. The latter has been described by +Dr. Codman as "the mysterious and profound, with his long, dark, straight +locks of hair, one of which was continually being brushed away from his +forehead as it continually fell; with his gold-bowed eye-glass, his large +nose and peculiar blue eyes, his spasmodic expressions of nervous horror, +and his cachinnatious laugh." Newcomb was for many years a resident of +Providence, afterwards finding a home in England and in Paris. He was +early a member of Brook Farm--a solitary, self-involved person, preferring +to associate with children rather than with older persons. He read much in +the literature of the mystics, and was laughingly said to prefer paganism +to Christianity. He had a feminine temperament, was full of sensibility, +and of an indolent turn of mind. Emerson was attracted to him, and at one +time had great expectations concerning his genius. His paper, published in +_The Dial_, under the title of "The Two Dolons," was much admired by some +of the Transcendentalists when it was printed there; and it is referred to +by Hawthorne in his "Hall of Phantasy." In June, 1842, Emerson wrote to +Margaret Fuller: "I wish you to know that I have 'Dolon' in black and +white, and that I account Charles N. a true genius; his writing fills me +with joy, so simple, so subtle, and so strong is it. There are sentences +in 'Dolon' worth the printing of _The Dial_ that they may go forth." This +paper was given him for publication at Emerson's urgent request, and it is +not known that Newcomb has published anything else. In 1850 Emerson said +he had come to doubt Newcomb's genius, having found that he did not care +for an audience. + +Another person of whom Curtis speaks is Isaac Hecker, who became a member +of the Catholic Church, under the guidance of Orestes Brownson. He was +born in New York City, was brought up under Methodist auspices, became a +baker, developed a strong taste for philosophy, and went to Brook Farm at +the age of twenty-two. He remained for a few months as a student, and then +tried Alcott's Fruitlands for a fortnight. He was naturally of an ascetic +turn of mind, loved mystic books and philosophy, and found in the Catholic +Church his true religious home. He secured at Brook Farm a kind of culture +which he much needed, and his abilities were seen by those around him. +After his return to New York, Ripley, and Charles Lane, of Fruitlands, +wrote him in a way which indicated their faith in him as a man of judgment +and liberal aims. He spent some months in Concord, had George P. Bradford +for his tutor, and he rented a room of Mrs. Thoreau, the mother of Henry +D. Thoreau. There again he met the Curtis brothers; but soon after he went +to Holland to prepare for the priesthood, and then entered upon his +life-work. A curious phase in the life of this time was the effort of +Hecker to convert Curtis to his own way of religious thinking, as Curtis +relates in his letters. Even more singular was the attempt of Hecker to +persuade Thoreau into the Catholic Church. Mr. Sanborn has read a letter +in which he proposed to Thoreau to travel on foot with him in Europe. His +real purpose seems to have been to get Thoreau away from Protestants, and +among the influences of the Catholic churches and traditions, and thus to +make a convert of him. In a letter printed in Father Elliott's biography +of Father Hecker, Curtis gave an account of his acquaintance with the +founder of the order of the Paulist Fathers. + +"WEST NEW BRIGHTON, STATEN ISLAND, _February 28, 1890._ + +Dear Sir,--I fear that my recollections of Father Hecker will be of little +service to you, for they are very scant. But the impression of the young +man whom I knew at Brook Farm is still vivid. It must have been in the +year 1843 that he came to the Farm in West Roxbury, near Boston. He was a +youth of twenty-three, of German aspect, and I think his face was somewhat +seamed with small-pox. But his sweet and candid expression, his gentle and +affectionate manner, were very winning. He had an air of singular +refinement and self-reliance combined with a half-eager inquisitiveness, +and upon becoming acquainted with him, I told him that he was Ernest the +Seeker, which was the title of a story of mental unrest which William +Henry Channing was then publishing in _The Dial_. + +Hecker, or, as I always called him and think of him, Isaac, had apparently +come to Brook Farm because it was a result of the intellectual agitation +of the time which had reached and touched him in New York. He had been +bred a baker, he told me, and I remember with what satisfaction he said to +me, 'I am sure of my livelihood, because I can make good bread.' His +powers in this way were most satisfactorily tested at the Farm, or, as it +was generally called, 'the Community,' although it was in no other sense a +community than an association of friendly workers in common. He was drawn +to Brook Farm by the belief that its life would be at least agreeable to +his convictions and tastes, and offer him the society of those who might +answer some of his questions, even if they could not satisfy his longings. + +By what influence his mind was first affected by the moral movement known +in New England as Transcendentalism, I do not know. Probably he may have +heard Mr. Emerson lecture in New York, or he may have read Brownson's +'Charles Elwood,' which dealt with the questions that engaged his mind and +conscience. But among the many interesting figures at Brook Farm I recall +none more sincerely absorbed than Isaac Hecker in serious questions. The +merely aesthetic aspects of its life, its gayety and social pleasures, he +regarded good-naturedly, with the air of a spectator who tolerated rather +than needed or enjoyed them. There was nothing ascetic or severe in him, +but I have often thought since that his feeling was probably what he might +have afterwards described as a consciousness that he must be about his +Father's business. + +I do not remember him as especially studious. Mr. Ripley had classes in +German philosophy and metaphysics, in Kant and Spinoza, and Isaac used to +look in, as he turned wherever he thought he might find answers to his +questions. He went to hear Theodore Parker preach in the Unitarian Church +in the neighboring village of West Roxbury. He went to Boston, about ten +miles distant, to talk with Brownson, and to Concord to see Emerson. He +entered into the working life at the Farm, but always, as it seemed to me, +with the same reserve and attitude of observation. He was the dove +floating in the air, not yet finding the spot on which his foot might +rest. + +The impression that I gathered from my intercourse with him, which was +boyishly intimate and affectionate, was that of all 'the apostles of the +newness,' as they were gayly called, whose counsel he sought, Brownson was +the most satisfactory to him. I thought then that this was due to the +authority of Brownson's masterful tone, the definiteness of his views, the +force of his 'understanding,' as the word was then philosophically used in +distinction from the reason. Brownson's mental vigor and positiveness were +very agreeable to a candid mind which was speculatively adrift and +experimenting, and, as it seemed to me, which was more emotional than +logical. Brownson, after his life of varied theological and controversial +activity, was drawing towards the Catholic Church, and his virile force +fascinated the more delicate and sensitive temper of the young man, and, I +have always supposed, was the chief influence which at that time affected +Hecker's views, although he did not then enter the Catholic Church. + +He was a general favorite at Brook Farm, always equable and playful, +wholly simple and frank in manner. He talked readily and easily, but not +controversially. His smile was singularly attractive and sympathetic, and +the earnestness of which I have spoken gave him an unconscious personal +dignity. His temperament was sanguine. The whole air of the youth was that +of goodness. I do not think that the impression made by him forecast his +career, or, in any degree, the leadership which he afterwards held in his +Church. But everybody who knew him at that time must recall his charming +amiability. + +I think that he did not remain at Brook Farm for a whole year, and when +later he went to Belgium to study theology at the seminary of Mons he +wrote me many letters, which, I am sorry to say, have disappeared. I +remember that he labored with friendly zeal to draw me to his Church, and +at his request I read some writing of St. Alphonse of Liguori. Gradually +our correspondence declined when I was in Europe, and was never resumed; +nor do I remember seeing him again more than once, many years ago. There +was still in the clerical figure, which was very strange to me, the old +sweetness of smile and address; there was some talk of the idyllic days, +some warm words of hearty good-will, but our interests were very +different, and, parting, we went our separate ways. For a generation we +lived in the same city, yet we never met. But I do not lose the bright +recollection of Ernest the Seeker, nor forget the frank, ardent, generous, +manly youth, Isaac Hecker. + +Very truly yours, + +George William Curtis." + +One of the teachers at Brook Farm was George P. Bradford, who left there +at about the same time Curtis did, and was then a tutor in Concord. When +the account of philosophy in Boston was left uncompleted by Ripley, +Bradford finished it for the "Memorial History of Boston." While living in +the Old Manse in Concord, Hawthorne wrote to Margaret Fuller: "I have +thought of receiving a personal friend, and a man of delicacy, into my +household, and have taken a step towards that object. But in doing so I +was influenced far less by what Mr. Bradford is than by what he is not; +or, rather, his negative qualities seem to take away his personality, and +leave his excellent characteristics to be fully and fearlessly enjoyed. I +doubt whether he be not precisely the rarest man in the world." Mrs. +Hawthorne wrote of Bradford, that "his beautiful character makes him +perennial in interest." After the death of Bradford, Curtis wrote of him +in one of the most appreciative of the biographical papers which the "Easy +Chair" gave to the public: + +"Whoever had the happiness of knowing the late George P. Bradford, upon +reading that he was the son of a stout sea-captain of Duxbury, must have +recalled Charles Lamb's description of one of his comrades at the old +South Sea House--'like spring, gentle offspring of blustering winter.' A +more gentle, truthful, generous, constant, high-minded, accomplished man, +or, as Emerson, his friend of many years, said of Charles Sumner, 'a +whiter soul,' could not be known. However wide and various and delightful +your acquaintance may have been, if you knew George Bradford, you knew a +man unlike all others. His individuality was entirely unobtrusive, but it +was absolute. + +"The candor of his nature refused the least deceit, and rejected every +degree of indirectness without consciousness or effort. His admirable +mind, the natural loftiness of his aim, his instinctive sympathy with +every noble impulse and humane endeavor, his fine intellectual +cultivation, all made him the friend of the best men and women of his time +and neighborhood, and none among them but acknowledged the singular charm +of a companion who asserted his convictions by his character, and with +whom controversy was impossible. Mr. Bradford had the temperament, the +tastes, and the acquirements of a scholar; a fondness for nature, and a +knowledge which made him her interpreter; yet still more obvious were the +social sympathy and tenderness of feeling that brought him into intimate +personal relations which time could not touch. + +"Something in his appearance and manner, a half-shrinking and smiling +diffidence, an unworn and childlike ardor and unconsciousness, a freshness +of feeling and frankness of address, invested his personality with what we +call quaintness. He was always active, even to apparent restlessness, not +from nervous excitement, but from fulness of life and sympathy. You might +think of a humming-bird darting from flower to flower, of a honey-bee +happy in a garden. He graduated at Harvard, meaning to be a clergyman, but +the publicity, the magisterial posture, the incessant constraint of the +liberty which he valued more than all else, with the lack of oratorical +gifts and of the self-asserting disposition, soon closed that career to +him; afterwards he was one of the most cheerful and charming figures at +Brook Farm in its pleasantest day. All his life he was a teacher, mainly +of private classes, and generally of women, now in Plymouth, now in +Cambridge, now elsewhere, but, wherever he was, always beloved and +welcomed, and bewailed when he departed. + +"Mr. Bradford was unmarried, and there was a sentiment of solitude in his +life, but it was scarcely more, so affectionate and devoted were his +relations to his kindred and his friends. His elder sister, Mrs. Samuel B. +Ripley, was one of the most admirably accomplished women in New England, +living for some years in the Old Manse in Concord in which Hawthorne had +lived. Mr. Ripley was the son of the clergyman who married the widow of +his fellow-clergyman who saw from the Manse the battle at Concord Bridge. +Mr. Bradford was very fond of the old town, and Mr. Emerson had no friend +who was a more welcome or frequent guest than George Bradford, who came to +look after the vegetable garden and to trim the trees, and in long walks +to Walden Pond or Fairhaven Hill to discuss with his host philosophy and +poetry and life. The small gains of a teacher were enough for the simple +wants of the scholarly gentleman, and after middle life he went often to +Europe, and few Americans have ever gone more admirably equipped. He +travelled sometimes with a tried comrade, sometimes alone, and a life +already full was enriched and enchanted still more by the happy journeys. + +"Indeed, the recollection of George Bradford is that of a long life as +serene and happy as it was blameless and delightful to others. It was a +life of affection and many interests and friendly devotion; but it was not +that of a recluse scholar like Edward Fitzgerald, with the pensive +consciousness of something desired but undone. George Bradford was in full +sympathy with the best spirit of his time. He had all the distinctive +American interest in public affairs. His conscience was as sensitive to +public wrongs and perilous tendencies as to private and personal conduct. +He voted with strong convictions, and wondered sometimes that the course +so plain to him was not equally plain to others. + +"It was a life of nothing of what we call achievement, and yet a life +beneficent to every other life that it touched, like a summer wind laden +with a thousand invisible seeds that, dropping everywhere, spring up into +flowers and fruit. It is a name which to most readers of these words is +wholly unknown, and which will not be written, like that of so many of the +friends of him who bore it, in our literature and upon the memory of his +countrymen. But to those who knew him well, and who therefore loved him, +it recalls the most essential human worth and purest charm of character, +the truest manhood, the most affectionate fidelity. To those who hear of +him now, and perhaps never again, these words may suggest that the +personal influences which most ennoble and sweeten life may escape fame, +but live immortal in the best part of other lives." + +Another member of Brook Farm in its earlier period was Minott Pratt, who +had been a printer, and the foreman in the office of the _Christian +Register_, the Unitarian paper published in Boston. Dr. Codman says of him +that he was "a finely formed, large, graceful-featured, modest man. His +voice was low, soft, and calm. His presence inspired confidence and +respect. Whatever he touched was well done. He was faithful and dignified, +and the serenity of his nature welled up in genial smiles. In farm-work he +was Mr. Ripley's right hand. They agreed in practical matters, and Ripley +deferred to his judgment. His wife was an earnest, strong, faithful +worker. They entered into the scheme with fervor." Another Brook Farmer +said of him: "No one can ever forget the entire freedom from fret and fume +and worry he evinced, while he never neglected a duty or failed to +accomplish his full share of work. No one can fail to recall how peaceful +and free from criticism his life was, with what rare fidelity he estimated +his fellows, and how little apparent thought or recognition of self there +was in all his actions. Indeed, the loveliness of his spirit shone through +the bodily vesture, and his smile itself was a blessing which one might +seek to win, and be proud to have gained by one's exertions. His presence, +in all the various spheres of active life and industry, had a wonderful +educational power upon both old and young; and to the influence of several +individuals of similar beauty of character I attribute the harmony and +beauty, in considerable degree, of our Brook Farm life." + +Pratt spent the remainder of his life, after the Brook Farm episode, in +Concord, and there he has, even now, the reputation of having been a model +farmer. He was an extremely modest man, very little forthputting, gentle +in manner, and most neighborly in spirit. He wrote many papers for the +Concord Farmers' Club, and some of these were printed in the _Boston +Commonwealth_. In that paper, when Mr. Frank B. Sanborn was the editor, he +published a series of articles on country life, which were delightful to +read. He was a fine writer, and what he wrote showed the grace and charm +of the man. He gave much attention to botany, knew all the plants and +flowers in Concord, and knew them both as a scientist and poet. + +For several years Pratt was in the habit of gathering on the lawn in front +of his house, under a large elm-tree, a picnic of such of his Brook Farm +associates as he could bring together. Emerson, Phillips, Thoreau, Curtis, +George Bradford, and others of note, often attended. The gathering was a +delightful one, and it was made an occasion of happy reminiscences and a +renewal of old personal ties and affections. + +Some of the reminiscences of Brook Farm mention that Curtis walked in the +moonlight with Caroline Sturgis, who, over the signature of "Z," +contributed a number of poems to _The Dial_. She was an intimate friend of +Margaret Fuller, and she afterwards published "Rainbows for Children," +"The Magician's Show-box," and other children's books. She married William +A. Tappan, who rented to Hawthorne the cottage in which he lived at Lenox. +Mrs. Lathrop's book about her mother contains many reminiscences of them. +She was a daughter of William Sturgis, a wealthy Boston merchant. A +sister, Mrs. Ellen H. Hooper, was also a contributor to _The Dial_, in +which appeared her poem beginning with the line: + + "I slept and dreamed that life was beauty." + +Another well-known poem was written by her: + + "She stood outside the gate of heaven and saw them entering in." + +Colonel Higginson speaks of her as "a woman of genius," and Margaret +Fuller wrote of her from Rome: "I have seen in Europe no woman more gifted +by nature than she." + +Under date of October 25, 1845, Curtis mentions a religious meeting which +had been recently held at Brook Farm. This was a reference to one of the +many occasions on which William Henry Channing conducted religious +services there, for he was listened to with greater satisfaction than any +one else who spoke on religious subjects. When the weather was suitable he +preached in the grove near the Margaret Fuller cottage (so called); and on +the present occasion he asked those present to join hands and to repeat +with him a bond of union or confession of faith, and constitute themselves +into a church. Before this time no religious organization had existed at +Brook Farm, the utmost liberty of opinion being cultivated there. In fact, +the leaders of the movement had been strongly opposed to any religious +formalism or organized effort at religious instruction. The freedom of +belief was such that Freethinkers on the one side, and devout Catholics on +the other, were welcomed with equal cordiality. The majority of the +members were undoubtedly of the "liberal" school in theology, and found in +the preaching of Theodore Parker the kind of spiritual instruction they +desired. At one time there was an enthusiastic interest in the teachings +of Swedenborg. + +It was the tendency towards what was at once practical and mystical which +drew the large majority of the Farmers to the preaching of William Henry +Channing, who was one of the most gifted preachers which America has +produced. He was imaginative, mystical, and eloquent, liberal in his +thinking, progressive in his social ideals, and profoundly religious. He +was thoroughly in sympathy with the Associationist movement, and more than +any other man he was the spiritual leader and confessor of those who found +in that movement a practical realization of their religious convictions. + +The organization which began on that Sunday afternoon in October, 1845, +continued to exist at Brook Farm until January, 1847, when "The Religious +Union of Associationists" was organized in Boston, with Channing as the +minister. For a few years it was successful, and it gave union and purpose +to the Associationist movement in Boston and the vicinity. A considerable +number of the members of Brook Farm were connected with it actively--as +officers, members of the choir, or regular attendants. + +The organization effected in the pine woods in so informal a manner was +quite in harmony with the Brook Farm spirit and methods. Formalism of +every kind was dreaded, but yet there was a deeply religious interest +pervading the whole life of the community. At all the meetings held by the +Farmers, even at little social gatherings, the conversation was likely to +run on high themes. While there was present the utmost freedom of opinion +and expression, and while there was the greatest effort to avoid cant and +conventional phraseology, yet there was in the community a very strong +religious feeling; and nearly all the members held serious and earnest +convictions, to which they were unusually faithful in their daily living. + + +III + +The relations of Curtis to his teachers at Brook Farm were cordial and +appreciative, but they were especially so with John S. Dwight, with whom +he studied music. When he left the farm, an intimate and confidential +correspondence began between them, and this continued until Curtis went to +Europe. After he returned it was resumed, but the interchange of letters +was not so frequent. They continued to write to each other almost to the +end of Dwight's life, however, and their friendship was always sympathetic +and confidential. The letters of Dwight have not been preserved, with two +or three exceptions, but those of Curtis still exist in unbroken +succession, and are presented to the public in this volume. In these days, +when we complain of the decay of letter-writing, they afford a remarkably +good specimen of youthful effort in that kind of literature. + +To Dwight there were sent by Curtis several poems, which were printed in +the _Harbinger_, and he also sent two letters from New York on musical +topics. Two of his letters to Dwight from Europe were also printed in the +_Harbinger_. After he was settled in New York, Curtis did his part in an +effort to get Dwight established in that city. When Dwight began his +_Journal of Music_, Curtis wrote for it frequently over the signature of +"Hafiz." It is safe to say that these contributions were not paid for, but +were the result of a desire to aid his friend in his musical enterprise. +They were of the nature of passing comments on the musical performances of +the day, but they were worthy of the pages in which they appeared. + +John Sullivan Dwight was born in Court Street, Boston, May 13, 1813, the +son of Dr. John Dwight and his wife Mary. He was educated at the Derne +Street Grammar School and the Boston Latin School, from which he entered +Harvard College. As a boy he was a devoted reader of books, studious in +his habits, but little inclined to active or practical pursuits. When +about fifteen, he began to take an interest in music, and from his father +he received the best instruction in that art. + +Young Dwight entered Harvard in 1829, and he carried through the studies +of the course with a fair degree of success. He gave much attention to +music, joined the Pierian Sodality, and was an earnest reader of the best +poetry. He gave the class poem on his graduation, in 1832. During his +Senior year he taught at Northborough, and following his graduation he +spent a year as a tutor in a family at Meadville, Pennsylvania. In the +autumn of 1834 he entered the theological school at Harvard, and graduated +therefrom in August, 1836, his dissertation being on "The Proper Character +of Poetry and Music for Public Worship," which was published in the +_Christian Examiner_ for that year. + +Dwight's interest in music led him to take a leading part in bringing +together, in 1837, those recent graduates of the college who were of like +mind with himself; and a society was organized for the purpose of +promoting its study. In 1840 the name was changed to that of the "Harvard +Musical Association"; in 1845 it was incorporated, and in 1848 the place +of meeting was transferred to Boston. + +It was three years and a half after Dwight left the theological school +before he had secured a pulpit. He preached nearly every Sunday, but he +had become a member of the Transcendental Club, he was in sympathy with +Emerson and Parker, and the churches did not find his preaching +acceptable. He wrote several papers for the _Christian Examiner_, and +reviewed a number of books in the same periodical. The first review of +Tennyson published in this country he gave to the public in that journal. +In 1838 he published in the series of translations edited by George +Ripley, under the general title of "Specimens of Foreign Standard +Literature," a volume of "Select Minor Poems, Translated from the German +of Goethe and Schiller, with Notes." Several of Dwight's friends aided him +in this translation, especially on the poems of Schiller; but the valuable +notes appended were furnished by himself. The volume was dedicated to +Carlyle, who wrote a characteristic letter in giving his permission, and a +still more interesting one in acknowledging the receipt of the book. + +In May, 1840, Dwight became the minister of the little Unitarian parish at +Northampton, and the ordination sermon was preached by George Ripley, the +address to the minister being given by Dr. W.E. Channing. From the first +the people were not fully agreed as to Dwight's preaching, and the +objections gradually increased as his strong Transcendental habits of +thought began to be more clearly manifest. A few persons of thoughtful and +more distinctly spiritual cast of mind were warmly drawn to him, but the +majority grew more and more opposed to him, and he withdrew from the +parish after a year and a half. During his stay in Northampton he wrote +for _The Dial_, for one or two musical journals, planned several extended +literary undertakings, and gave lectures before the American Institute of +Instruction and the Harvard Musical Association. In _The Dial_ was +published one of his sermons, under the title of "Religion of Beauty," and +another called "Ideals of Every-day Life." At the end of that on the +religion of beauty was printed a poem of Dwight's, which has been often +credited to Goethe, and is usually given the title of + + "REST + + Sweet is the pleasure, + Itself cannot spoil! + Is not true leisure + One with true toil? + + Thou that wouldst taste it, + Still do thy best; + Use it, not waste it, + Else 'tis no rest. + + Wouldst behold beauty + Near thee, all round? + Only hath duty + Such a sight found. + + Rest is not quitting + The busy career; + Rest is the fitting + Of self to its sphere. + + 'Tis the brook's motion, + Clear without strife, + Fleeing to ocean + After its life. + + Deeper devotion + Nowhere hath knelt; + Fuller emotion + Heart never felt. + + 'Tis loving and serving + The Highest and Best! + 'Tis onwards! unswerving, + And that is true rest." + +As an intimate friend of George Ripley, Dwight had discussed with him the +project of a community at Brook Farm; and it was natural that he should +find his place there in November, 1841. Many years later Dwight said of +the purposes of Ripley, in this effort to improve upon the usual forms of +social life: "His aspiration was to bring about a truer state of society, +one in which human beings should stand in frank relations of true equality +and fraternity, mutually helpful, respecting each other's occupation, and +making one the helper of the other. The prime idea was an organization of +industry in such a way that the most refined and educated should show +themselves practically on a level with those whose whole education had +been hard labor. Therefore, the scholars and the cultivated would take +their part also in the manual labor, working on the farm or cultivating +nurseries of young trees, or they would even engage in the housework." + +In the Brook Farm community, Dwight was one of the leaders, his place +being next after Ripley and Dana. In the school he was the instructor in +Latin and music. His love for music began to make itself strongly manifest +at this time; he brought out all the musical talent which could be +developed among the members of the community. Of this phase he said: "The +social education was extremely pleasant. For instance, in the matter of +music we had extremely limited means or talent, and very little could be +done except in a very rudimentary, tentative, and experimental way. We had +a singing-class, and we had some who could sing a song gracefully and +accompany themselves at the piano. We had some piano music; and, so far as +it was possible, care was taken that it should be good--sonatas of +Beethoven and Mozart, and music of that order. We sang masses of Haydn and +others, and no doubt music of a better quality than prevailed in most +society at that date, but that would be counted nothing now. Occasionally +we had artists come to visit us. We had delightful readings; and, once in +a while, when William Henry Channing was in the neighborhood, he would +preach us a sermon." + +At this time a musical awakening was taking place in Boston, a genuine +taste for and appreciation of Beethoven, Mozart, and Haydn was being +developed. Dwight was instrumental in promoting a love for these masters, +and out of his classes for their study grew what were called "Mass Clubs." +He and his pupils often went into Boston to hear the best music, walking +both ways. In _The Dial_, and especially in the _Harbinger_, Dwight wrote +with enthusiasm and poetic charm of the merits of classical music. He +wrote afterwards that the treatment of music in these periodicals told the +time of day far ahead; and "such discussion did at least contribute much +to make music more respected, to lift it in the esteem of thoughtful +persons to a level with the rest of the humanities of culture, and +especially to turn attention to the nobler compositions, and away from +that which is but idle, sensual, and vulgar." + +To the _Christian Examiner_, _Boston Miscellany_, _Lowell's Pioneer_, and +the _Democratic Review_, Dwight was an occasional contributor at this +period. His chief literary work, however, was in the form of lectures on +musical subjects, especially on the great composers already named. He gave +a successful course of musical lectures in New York, and he lectured in a +number of other cities. + +To the _Harbinger_, which was the organ of Brook Farm after the Fourierite +period began, as well as the best advocate of associated life ever +published in the country, Dwight was one of the chief contributors. He +wrote much in behalf of association, but he also discussed literary +topics. His chief contributions were on the subject of music, which was +then, as always, so near his heart. He conducted the department devoted to +musical criticism and interpretation. During the last year of the +publication of the paper at Brook Farm he was associated with Ripley in +the editorial management. + +In 1847 Brook Farm came to an end. The _Harbinger_ was removed to New +York, and Ripley was its editor; but it was discontinued in less than two +years. Dwight was the Boston correspondent, and continued his editorial +connection with the paper. He removed to Boston, continued his interest in +association, was an active member of W.H. Channing's "Religious Union of +Associationists," was one of the most zealous workers in the organization +for promoting associated life, and began to write for the _Daily +Chronotype_ on musical subjects. In 1849 he edited a department in the +_Chronotype_ devoted to the interests of association, and he had the +assistance of Channing, Brisbane, Dana, and Cranch. This arrangement was +continued for only a few months, not proving a success. In 1851 he was for +six months the musical editor of the _Boston Commonwealth_, he wrote for +_Sartain's Magazine_ and other periodicals on musical topics, and he +continued to lecture. Ripley and Dana made an earnest effort to secure him +a place on one of the daily journals in New York. In February, 1851, +Dwight and Mary Bullard, who had been a frequent visitor at Brook Farm, +and a member of the choir at Channing's church in Boston, of which Dwight +was the musical leader, were married. She was a beautiful and attractive +woman, of some musical talent, and of a most unselfish and winning +character. They went to live in Charles Street, and there had Dr. O.W. +Holmes and his wife for near neighbors. + +In April, 1852, Dwight issued the first number of _Dwight's Journal of +Music_. He was able to do this with the aid of several of his +associationist and musical friends, who generously contributed to a +guarantee fund for the purpose. The Harvard Musical Association lent its +aid to the project, and made it financially possible. In the first number +Dwight said of his purposes and plans: + +"Our motive for publishing a musical journal lies in the fact that music +has made such rapid progress here within the last fifteen, and even the +last ten, years. Boston has been without such a paper, and Boston has +thousands of young people who go regularly to hear all the good +performances of the best classic models in this art. Its rudiments are +taught in all our schools.... + +"All this requires an organ, a regular bulletin of progress; something to +represent the movement, and at the same time help to guide it to the true +end. Very confused, crude, heterogeneous is this sudden musical activity +in a young, utilitarian people. A thousand specious fashions too +successfully dispute the place of true art in the favor of each little +public. It needs a faithful, severe, friendly voice to point out +steadfastly the models of the true, the ever beautiful, the divine. + +"We dare not promise to be all this; but what we promise is, at least, an +honest report, week by week, of what we hear and feel and in our poor way +understand of this great world of music, together with what we receive +through the ears and feeling and understanding of others, whom we trust; +with every side-light from the other arts." + +What was thus promised was carried out successfully, so far as the spirit +and purpose were concerned, for more than thirty years. At first the +_Journal of Music_ was an eight-page weekly, of about the size of +_Harper's Weekly_. After a time it was issued fortnightly, and the number +of pages was increased. Though small the _Journal of Music_ was varied in +contents, and published much that was of great value. The selections from +English, French, and German musical publications were well adapted to give +music a higher position in American society. Many works of great value +were translated for its pages; and whatever new or of importance was +taking place or being said in the musical world was faithfully reported. +The circulation was small at the best, for the high quality of the paper, +and the refusal of the editor to make it an organ of the interests of +publishers did not help to bring it widely before the public. Dwight would +make no compromises with what was sensational or merely popular. + +At the beginning of 1859 the _Journal of Music_ was put into the hands of +Oliver Ditson & Co., who undertook its publication, paying Dwight a stated +salary for his labors upon it. This arrangement relieved him of much +drudgery as publisher, which he had hitherto undertaken. The conduct of +the paper did not essentially change, but with each number was added a +musical composition; the best works of Mendelssohn, Schubert, Wagner, +Gluck, Mozart, and many other composers were thus issued. Dwight also did +much translating for Ditson, turning into English the words which +accompanied some of the best German music. + +In July, 1860, Dwight went to Europe for purposes of travel and study. +Shortly after his departure his wife was taken ill, and died in a few +weeks. The blow nearly crushed him, and it took many months for him to +recover himself. In a most sympathetic letter Dr. Holmes told him of the +illness, and the scenes which followed: + +"I listened to the sweet music which was sung over her as she lay, covered +with flowers, in the pleasant parlor of her house, by the voices of those +that loved her--I and my wife with me--and then we followed her to Mount +Auburn, and saw her laid in the earth, and the blossoms showered down upon +her with such tokens of affection and sorrow that the rough men, whose +business makes them callous to common impressions, were moved as none of +us ever saw them moved before. Our good James Clarke, as you know, +conducted the simple service. It was one which none of us who were present +will ever forget; and in every heart there was one feeling over all +others, that for the far-distant husband, brother, friend, as yet +unconscious of the bereavement he was too soon to learn." + +Dwight spent a few days in England, was for a fortnight in Paris, went +through Switzerland, and then on to Germany. He went to Frankfort, then to +Bonn, where he was for some weeks. In Berlin some months were passed, and +visits were made to Leipzig, Dresden, Munich, and other cities. He gave +much attention to music, taking every opportunity of making himself better +acquainted with its traditions and spirit. He then went to Italy, passed +on to France, and reached England in July, 1861. Early in September he +sailed on the trial trip of the _Great Eastern_, which encountered a +fearful storm, and was nearly wrecked. Dwight landed on the Irish coast, +made his way back to London, thought of remaining another year in Europe, +but finally returned home in November. + +In Dwight's absence the _Journal_ had been conducted by Henry Ware, a +young musical friend. He now established himself in the Studio Building on +Tremont Street, and went on with his tasks as usual. He became an active +member of the Saturday Club, and was a constant attendant. He helped to +organize, in 1863, the Jubilee Concert, at which Emerson read his "Boston +Hymn." On the other hand, he severely criticised Gilmore's National Peace +Jubilee of 1869. + +In 1878 the desire of the Ditson publishing house to make the _Journal of +Music_ more popular in its character, and more directly helpful to their +business interests, led Dwight to transfer its management to the firm of +Houghton, Osgood & Co. It was better printed, the list of contributors was +enlarged, and in many ways the paper was improved. A number of Dwight's +friends promised to stand behind it for a year or two with definite sums +of money, that it might be improved, and an effort made to reach a larger +public. From some cause, not easy to understand, the response on the part +of the public was not large enough to warrant the additional outlay; the +list of paid contributors had to be abandoned, and the paper returned +gradually to its old ways. In December, 1880, Dwight's friends joined with +the musicians of Boston in giving a testimonial concert for the benefit of +the paper, which yielded the sum of $6000. In an editorial Dwight said of +this expression of interest in his work: "Greetings and warmest signs of +recognition, kindliest notes of sympathy (often from most unexpected +quarters), prompt, enthusiastic offers of musical service in any concert +that might be arranged, poured in upon the editor, who, all at once, found +himself the object of unusual attention. Hand and heart were offered +wherever he met an old acquaintance; everybody seemed full of the bright +idea that had struck somebody just in the nick of time. We never knew we +had so many friends." + +In September, 1881, the _Journal of Music_ came to an end. The position +taken by Dwight was not that of the self-seeker; he had no gift for +turning his love for the art of music into financial results. He would not +lower the critical attitude of his journal for the sake of pleasing the +publishers of music; and he would not pretend to a love of those popular +forms of music which he held to be inferior in their character. It may be +he was not a great critic, certainly he had not the technical knowledge of +music which is desirable in its scientific expositor; but his whole soul +was in the art, and he gave it the devotion of his life. His preference +was for the older composers, and he did not yield a ready homage to those +of the newer schools. Of this he speaks in the closing number of his +journal: "Startling as the new composers are, and novel, curious, +brilliant, beautiful at times, they do not inspire us as we have been +inspired before, and do not bring us nearer heaven. We feel no inward call +to the proclaiming of the new gospel. We have tried to do justice to these +works as they have claimed our notice, and have omitted no intelligence of +them which came within the limits of our columns, but we lack motive for +entering their doubtful service; we are not ordained their prophet." + +Dwight frankly admitted that the causes for the limited success of his +journal lay in himself, and said, truly, "We have long realized that we +were not made for the competitive, sharp enterprise of modern journalism. +The turn of mind which looks at the ideal rather than the practical, and +the native indolence of temperament which sometimes goes with it, have +made our movements slow. To be the first in the field with an +announcement, or a criticism, or an idea, was no part of our ambition; how +can one recognize competitors, or enter into competition, and at the same +time keep his eye on truth?" + +The real value of Dwight's work in his _Journal of Music_ was expressed in +a letter sent him by Richard Grant White, when the closing number +appeared: "I regret very much this close of your valuable editorial +labors. You have done great work; and have that consciousness to be +sure--some comfort, but it should not be all. There is not a musician of +respectability in the country who is not your debtor." In the "Easy Chair" +Curtis gave a worthy account of the labors of his friend, and showed how +deserving he was of a far greater success than he had reached. + +"In the midst of the great musical progress of the country," he wrote, "it +is a curious fact that the oldest, ablest, and most independent of musical +journals in the United States has just suspended publication, on the eve +of the completion of its thirtieth year, for want of adequate support. We +mean, of course, _Dwight's Journal of Music_, which ended with an +admirably manly, candid, and sagacious, but inevitably pathetic, +valedictory from its editor--veteran editor, we should say, if the +atmosphere of good music in which he has lived had not been an enchanted +air in which youth is perpetually renewed.... A more delightful +valedictory it would not be easy to find in the swan song of any +journal.... + +"Mr. Dwight does not say, what the history of music in this country will +show, that to no one more than to him are we indebted for the intelligent +taste which enjoys the best music. His lectures upon the works of the +great Germans at the time of their performance by the Boston Academy of +Music in the old Odeon forty years ago were a kind of manual for the +intelligent audience. They showed that an elaborate orchestral musical +composition might be as serious a work of art, as full of thought and +passion, and, in a word, of genius, as a great poem, and that no form of +art was more spiritually elevating. They lifted the performance of such +music from the category of mere amusement, and asserted for the authors a +dignity like that of the master poets. If to some hearers the exposition +seemed sometimes fanciful and remote, it was only as all criticism of +works of the imagination often seems so. If the spectator sometimes sees +in a picture more than the painter consciously intended, it is because the +higher power may work with unconscious hands, and because beauty cannot be +hidden from the eye made to see it. Beethoven, for instance, had never a +truer lover or a subtler interpreter than Dwight, and Dwight taught the +teachers, and largely shaped the intelligent appreciation of the +unapproached master. + +"Those were memorable evenings at the old Odeon. Francis Beaumont did not +more pleasantly recall the things that he and Ben Jonson had seen done at +the Mermaid than an old Brook Farmer remembers the long walks, eight good +miles in and eight miles out, to see the tall, willowy Schmidt swaying +with his violin at the head of the orchestra, to hear the airy ripple of +Auber's 'Zanetta,' the swift passionate storm of Beethoven's 'Egmont,' the +symphonic murmur of woods and waters and summer fields in the limpid +'Pastorale,' or the solemn grandeur of sustained pathetic human feeling in +the 'Fifth Symphony.' The musical revival was all part of the new birth +of the Transcendental epoch, although none would have more promptly +disclaimed any taint of Transcendentalism than the excellent officers of +the Boston Academy of Music. The building itself, the Odeon, was the old +Federal Street Theatre, and had its interesting associations.... To all +there was now added, in the memory of the happy hearers, the association +of the symphony concerts. + +"As the last sounds died away, the group of Brook Farmers, who had ventured +from the Arcadia of co-operation into the Gehenna of competition, gathered +up their unsoiled garments and departed. Out of the city, along the bare +Tremont road, through green Roxbury and bowery Jamaica Plain, into the +deeper and lonelier country, they trudged on, chatting and laughing and +singing, sharing the enthusiasm of Dwight, and unconsciously taught by him +that the evening had been greater than they knew. Brook Farm has long +since vanished. The bare Tremont road is bare no longer. Green Roxbury and +Jamaica Plain are almost city rather than suburbs. From the symphony +concerts dates much of the musical taste and cultivation of Boston. The +old Odeon is replaced by the stately Music Hall. The _Journal of Music_, +which sprang from the impulse of those days, now, after a generation, is +suspended; nor need we speculate why musical Boston, which demands the +Passion music of Bach, permits a journal of such character to expire. Amid +all these changes and disappearances two things have steadily +increased--the higher musical taste of the country, and the good name of +the critic whose work has most contributed to direct and elevate it. If, +as he says, it is sad that the little bark which the sympathetic +encouragement of a few has kept afloat so long goes down before reaching +the end of its thirtieth annual voyage, it does not take down with it the +name and fame of its editor, which have secured their place in the history +of music in America." + +From the beginning Dwight was intimately connected with the Harvard +Musical Association, which has done so much to promote the interests of +music in Boston. He was its first vice-president and chairman of its board +of directors. He was active in providing its meetings with attractive +musical programmes; about 1844 he secured for it a series of chamber +concerts; he took part in procuring the building of Music Hall, and in +bringing to it the great organ which was for many years an attraction. +From 1855 to 1873 he continuously filled the position of vice-president of +the association; and in the latter year was elected president, which place +he held until his death. Beginning about 1850 he worked steadily for +securing a good musical library, that should be as nearly complete as +possible; and his desire was to make this a special feature in the +activities of the association. In 1867 a room was secured for it; and in +1869 a suite of rooms was rented for the gatherings, both social and +musical, of the members of the association. On his election as president, +Dwight went to live in those rooms, cared for the library, and received +the members and guests of the association whenever they chose to frequent +them. This was in Pemberton Square; but in 1886 there was a removal to +Park Square, and another in 1892 to West Cedar Street. Dwight's connection +of forty or fifty years with the Harvard Musical Association was most +intimate, so that he and the association came to be almost identical in +the minds of Boston people. Whatever it accomplished was through his +initiative or with his active cooperation. + +In 1865 Dwight proposed the organization of a Philharmonic Society among +the members of the association, and also that a series of concerts be +undertaken. This suggestion was carried out, and the concerts were for +many years very successful. In time their place was taken by the concerts +of Theodore Thomas, and the Symphony Concerts generously sustained by Mr. +H.L. Higginson; but it must be recognized that Dwight and the Harvard +Musical Association taught the Boston public to appreciate only those +concerts at which the best music was produced. + +One special object in the organization of the Harvard Musical Association +was the securing of a place for music in the curriculum of Harvard +College. That was an object very dear to the heart of Dwight, and one +which he brought forward frequently in the pages of his _Journal of +Music_. He maintained that music was not merely for amusement, but that it +is the most human and spiritual of all the arts, and must find its place +in any systematic effort to secure a full-rounded culture. In a few years +Harvard appointed an instructor in music. Mr. John K. Paine was called to +that position in 1862, and was made a professor in 1876. + +Dwight gave a most generous welcome to all young musicians of promise as +they came forward. Such men as John C.D. Parker, John K. Paine, Benjamin +J. Lang, George W. Chadwick, Arthur Foote, and William F. Apthorp were +generously aided by him; and the _Journal of Music_ never failed to speak +an appreciative word for them. However Dwight might differ from some of +them, he could recognize their true merits, and did not fail to make them +known to the public. When Mr. Paine, who had been watched by Dwight with +appreciation and approval from the beginning of his musical career, was +made a professor of music in Harvard University, when his important +musical compositions were published, and when his works were given fit +interpretation in Cambridge and elsewhere, these events were welcomed by +him as true indications of the development of music in this country. + +For many years John S. Dwight was the musical autocrat of Boston, and what +he approved was accepted as the best which could be obtained. His +knowledge of music was literary rather than technical, appreciative rather +than scientific; but his qualifications were such as to make him an +admirable interpreter of music to the cultivated public of Boston. What a +musical composition ought to mean to an intelligent person he could make +known in language of a fine literary texture, and with a rare spiritual +insight he voiced its poetic and aesthetic values. If the better-trained +musicians of more recent years look upon his musical judgments with +somewhat of disapproval, as not being sufficiently technical, they ought +not to forget that he prepared the way for them as no one else could have +done it, and that he had a fine skill in bringing educated persons to a +just appreciation of what music is as an art. As Mr. William F. Apthorp +has well said, "his musical instincts and perceptions were, in a certain +high respect, of the finest. He was irresistibly drawn towards what is +pure, noble, and beautiful, and felt these things with infinite keenness." + +Dwight's last years were spent in furthering the interests of the Harvard +Musical Association, in writing about his beloved art, and in the society +of his many generous friends. He had a talent for friendship, and during +his lifetime he was intimately associated with almost every man and woman +of note in Boston. He was of a quiet, gentlemanly habit of life, took the +world in the way of one who appreciates it and desires to secure from it +the most of good, was warmly attached to the children of his friends and +found the keenest delight in their presence, loved all that is graceful +and beautiful, and devoted himself with unceasing ardor to the art for +which he did so much to secure a just appreciation. + +On the occasion of his eightieth birthday his friends and admirers were +brought together in the rooms of the Harvard Musical Association. It was a +red-letter day in his life, and he greatly appreciated it. A few months +later, September 5, 1893, his life came to an end--a life that had been in +no way great, but that had been spent in the loving and faithful service +of his fellow-men. At his funeral, Mrs. Julia Ward Howe, an intimate +friend of many years, read this just and appreciative tribute: + + "O Presence reverend and rare, + Art thou from earth withdrawn? + Thou passest as the sunshine flits + To light another dawn. + + Surely among the symphonies + That praise the Ever-blest, + Some strophe of surpassing peace + Inviteth thee to rest. + + Thine was the treasure of a life + Heart ripened from within, + Whose many lustres perfected + What youth did well begin. + + The noble champions of thy day + Were thy companions meet, + In the great harvest of our race, + Bound with its priceless wheat. + + Thy voice its silver cadence leaves + In truth's resistless court, + Whereof thy faithful services + Her heralds make report. + + Here thou, a watchful sentinel, + Didst guard the gates of song, + That no unworthy note should pass + To do her temple wrong. + + Dear are the traces of thy days + Mixed in these walks of ours; + Thy footsteps in our household ways + Are garlanded with flowers. + + If we surrender, earth to earth, + The frame that's born to die, + Spirit with spirit doth ascend + To live immortally." + +The letters contained in this volume give fullest indication of the +cordial and intimate relations which existed between Dwight and Curtis. +This may be seen more distinctly, perhaps, with the help of a few letters +not there given, including two or three written by Dwight to his friend. +In a letter to Christopher P. Cranch, the preacher, poet, and artist, +written at the time when he was starting his _Journal of Music_ on its +way, Dwight said: "If you see the Howadji, can you not enlist his active +sympathy a little in my cause? A letter now and then from him on music or +on art would be a feather in the cap of my enterprise. It is my last, +desperate (not very confident), grand _coup d'etat_ to try to get a +living; and I call on all good powers to help me launch the ship, or, +rather, little boat." + +Curtis seconded his friend's efforts cordially, subscribed for the new +journal, persuaded a number of his friends to subscribe, and wrote +frequently for it. He wrote Dwight this letter of appreciation and advice: + +"Your most welcome letter has been received, and its contents have been +submitted to the astute deliberations of the editorial conclave +[_Tribune_]. We are delighted at the prospect--but we do not love the +name. 1st. _Journal of Music_ is too indefinite and commonplace. It will +not be sufficiently distinguished from the _Musical Times_ and the +_Musical World_, being of the same general character. 2d. 'Side-glances' +is suspicious. It 'smells' Transcendentalism, as the French say, and, of +all things, any aspect of a clique is to be avoided. + +"That is the negative result of our deliberations; the positive is, that +you should identify your name with the paper, and call it _Dwight's +Musical Journal_, and you might add, _sotto voce_, 'a paper of Art and +Literature.' + +"Prepend: I shall be very glad to send you a sketch of our winter doings in +music, especially as I love Steffanone, although she says, 'I smoke, I +chew, I snoof, I drink, I am altogether vicious.' You shall have it Sunday +morning. Give my kindest regards to your wife. I wish she could sing in +your paper." + +In a letter written in March, 1882, Dwight expressed to Curtis his +appreciation of the most friendly words which the "Easy Chair" had said of +him and his work as an editor, in making mention of the fact that the +_Journal of Music_ had come to the end of its career: + +"My dear George,--With this I send you formal invitation, on the part of +the committee of arrangements, for the celebration of the anniversary of +the foundation, by Dr. Howe, of the Institution for the Blind.... We wish +to have an address--not long, say half an hour--partly historical; and we +all (committee, director, teachers, pupils) have set our hearts upon +having _you_ perform that service. It would delight us all; and I know +that you would find the occasion, the very sight of those sightless +children made so happy, most inspiring.... A more responsive audience than +the blind themselves cannot be found. Dear George, do think seriously of +it, and tell me you will come. Your own wishes in respect to the +arrangements and conditions shall in all respects be consulted. But come, +if you wish to have a good time, a memorable time, and make a good time +for us. + +"George, how many times have I been on the point of writing to you since +that delightful week we spent at dear old Tweedy's. To me it was a sweet +renewal of good old days, and I came away feeling that it must have added +some time to my life. Then, too, I wished to thank you for your most +friendly, hearty, and delightful talk about me and my _Journal_ in the +'Easy Chair.' It was so like you, like the dear old George. I tell you, it +made me feel good, as if life wasn't all a failure. And now I am finding +laziness agreeing with me too--too well.... And if I were not so very, +very _old_, if it were not my fate to have been sent into the world so +long before my time, I verily believe I should confess myself over head +and ears in love! At any rate, I love _life_. Yet nearly all my old +friends seem to be dead or dying. When I write you again, I hope to be +able to say that I am well at work again; but how?--on what? Thank God, I +am not a 'critic!'" + + +IV + +The winter of 1843-44 was spent by the Curtis brothers at their father's +house in New York. George studied somewhat, heard much music, and read +extensively. In the spring of 1844 they went to live in Concord for +purposes of study and recreation. They wished to know country life, and +they regarded it as a desirable part of education that they should become +acquainted with practical affairs, and especially with agriculture. That +tendency of the time which established Brook Farm and sent Thoreau into +the Concord woods, worked itself out in this desire of two young men to +find life at first hand. Colonel Higginson has said of the fresh life +started by the transcendental movement: "Under these combined motives I +find that I carefully made out, at one time, a project of going into the +cultivation of peaches, thus securing freedom for study and thought by +moderate labor of the hands. This was in 1843, two years before Thoreau +tried a similar project with beans at Walden Pond; and also before the +time when George and Burrill Curtis undertook to be farmers at Concord. A +like course was actually adopted and successfully pursued through life by +another Harvard man a few years older than myself, the late Marston +Watson, of Plymouth, Massachusetts. Such things were in the air, and even +those who were not swerved by 'the Newness' from their intended pursuits +were often greatly as to the way in which they were undertaken." + +A letter written by Burrill Curtis, and printed in part by Mr. Cary, gives +the reasons for this experiment. He says it was "for the better +furtherance of our main and original end--the desire to unite in our own +persons the freedom of a country life with moderate out-door occupation, +and with intellectual cultivation and pursuits. At Concord we first took +up our residence in the family of an elderly farmer, recommended by Mr. +Emerson. We gave up half the day (except in hay-time, when we gave the +whole day) to sharing the farm-work indiscriminately with the +farm-laborers. The rest of the day we devoted to other pursuits, or to +social intercourse or correspondence; and we had a flat-bottomed +rowing-boat built for us, in which we spent very many afternoons on the +pretty little river. For our second season we removed to another farm and +farmer's house, near Mr. Emerson and Walden Pond, where we occupied only a +single room, making our own beds, and living in the very simplest and most +primitive style. A small piece of ground, which we hired of the farmer, we +cultivated for ourselves, raising vegetables only, and selling the +superfluous product, and distributing our time much as before." + +It was to the house of Captain Nathan Barrett, one mile north of Concord +village, west of the river, and overlooking it and its meadows, that the +Curtis brothers went. Barrett was born in October, 1797, and was of the +seventh generation of his family in the town. His house on Punkatassett +Hill was pleasantly located, and the farm was large and well cultivated. +Judge John S. Keyes, in the sketch of Barrett's life printed in the second +series of the "Memoirs of Members of the Social Circle in Concord," says +of him: "His house was the resort of many of the connections of himself +and wife, who had there gay and jolly frolics. He was a captain of the +Light Infantry company of the town. He was naturally of an easy, somewhat +indolent disposition, so that he did little of the harder work of the +farm, but he looked after everything, and he became a thoroughly skilled, +practical farmer. His position as the principal man of his section of the +town, and his own good sense, made him the leading person in his +neighborhood. In person he was tall, nearly six feet, of large frame, and +good proportions, weighing two hundred pounds, had a frank, open face, a +high forehead, and a large head. He lived plainly but comfortably; drove a +poor horse but a good carriage to church and visiting; dressed like his +brother farmers about his work, but neatly and in good style when at +leisure. He loved good fruit, raised it in large amounts. Neither witty +nor humorous, he was slow to appreciate a joke, but he had a hearty laugh +when he did comprehend it. He was liberal in his habits, genial in his +temperament, and kindly in his disposition. He was very modest, though +firm and reliable; honest in every fibre, without guile and cunning; +thoroughly simple, and yet clear-headed, cool, and sensible. He was slow +in his mental processes, but no one doubted that he believed all that he +thought and said and did. His apples were not deaconed, his seeds were +sure and reliable, and his milk was never watered. He never made a mistake +in his accounts but once, and then it was against himself. Everybody knew +him and liked him and praised him, and was sorry when he died." + +Captain Barrett had a farm of five hundred acres, the largest in the town. +He was a large raiser of sheep and milk. He was a deacon in the First +Parish Church, thoroughly honest, most neighborly and accommodating in his +ways, a loyal citizen, and a true-hearted man. He died in February, 1868, +and was lamented by every resident of the town. A typical farmer was +Captain Barrett, thoroughly human, loving life and all there is good in +it, hard-headed, practical, of sturdy common-sense, faithful to every +obligation as he understands it, of a kindly nature, enjoying the doing of +good in a plain, simple way, caring little for the supernatural, and yet +having a very sturdy faith in the few convictions of a rational religion, +without high spiritual insight, he lived his religion in a very honest +fashion. + +It was quite in keeping with the character of Captain Barrett that he put +the Curtis brothers at the task of getting out manure, as almost the first +labor he required of them after their arrival on his farm. His idea was to +"test their metal," to find what stuff they were made of, and to what +extent they were in earnest in their expressed wish to become acquainted +with practical agriculture. He spoke of it with glee to his neighbors, +that he had put such refined gentlemen at that kind of work. It is +needless to say that they bore the test well. They were not domiciled in +the farm-house, but in a small cottage somewhat lower down the hill, yet +in the immediate neighborhood. + +The love of music which George Curtis had developed at Brook Farm +continued during his stay in Concord. He sang on occasion, and he often +played a flute. The young singer he mentions was Belinda Randall, a sister +of John Randall, who published a volume of poems. She was a daughter of +Dr. Randall, of Winter Street, Boston, who had a summer place in Stowe. +From there she often visited in Concord, perhaps attended school there, +and was an intimate friend of Elizabeth Hoar, the betrothed of Edward +Emerson, and the sister of Judge Hoar and Senator Hoar, who, when she +visited Mrs. Hawthorne, was described as coming "with spirit voice and +tread." Belinda Randall has recently died, and left half a million dollars +to Harvard University, the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, and the +Cambridge Prospect Union. Her sister Elizabeth married Colonel Alfred +Cumming, of Georgia, afterwards Governor of Utah. Dr. Randall did not +approve of the marriage, and would not have the wedding take place in his +house. They were married at the house of Judge Hoar, the father of +Elizabeth. She was an excellent musician, but Belinda was the musical +genius of the family. + +Another person mentioned by Curtis was Almira Barlow, who was at Brook +Farm during the time he was there. She had been a Miss Penniman of +Brookline, and had the reputation of being a famous beauty. She married +David Hatch Barlow, a graduate of Harvard in 1824, and of the Theological +School in 1829. Their marriage took place in Brookline about 1830, and +they were regarded as the handsomest couple that had been seen in the +town. He had a parish in Lynn, and was afterwards settled in Brooklyn; but +his habits became irregular, he remained but a short time in any place, +and he separated from his wife in 1838. There was much gossip about her, +owing to her beauty and her fondness for the society of men. + +With Mrs. Barlow at Brook Farm and Concord was her son Francis Channing, +born in 1834, who graduated at Harvard in 1855, was a lawyer in New York, +rose to the rank of Major-General during the Rebellion, and was afterwards +prominent in his profession. He married as his second wife Miss Ellen +Shaw, the sister of Colonel Robert G. Shaw and of Mrs. George William +Curtis. + +Curtis mentions hearing Emerson's address on the anniversary of +emancipation in the West Indies, which was delivered in Concord, August 1, +1844. There had existed in Concord for a number of years a Woman's +Antislavery Society, of which Mrs. Emerson was a member. Of this society, +Mrs. Mary Merrick Brooks was the president, and its most active worker. +She invited Emerson to speak on this occasion. He felt that he was excused +from political action by virtue of his having been a clergyman, and +because of his life as a man of letters. Mrs. Brooks thought otherwise, +and she gave him good and urgent reasons why he ought to speak, and to +speak then. At last she prevailed, partly because she gave him no rest +until he had complied with her request, and partly because his conscience +went with her arguments. His attitude hitherto had been such as in part +justified the statement made by Carlyle to Theodore Parker in 1843, that +the negroes were fit only for slavery, and that Emerson agreed with him. + + +V + +The second abiding place of Curtis and his brother in Concord was the farm +of Edmund Hosmer, which was one-half mile east of Emerson's house, about +that distance from Walden Pond, and nearly the same from Hawthorne's +Wayside of later years, which faced it, and from which it could be seen. +Hosmer was a native of Concord, gave his earlier years to his trade as a +tanner, and then spent the remainder of his life as a Concord farmer. He +was Emerson's authority on agriculture and gardening more than any one; +though in later years Samuel Staples (usually known and spoken of as +"Sam") superseded him because he was a nearer neighbor. In 1843, when +Emerson wrote to George Ripley declining to join the Brook Farm community, +he referred to the opinions of Edmund Hosmer, "a very intelligent farmer +and a very upright man in my neighborhood." He gave in full his neighbor's +reasons for want of faith in the community idea, that co-operation in +farming was not successful, that the word of gentlemen-farmers could not +be trusted, that the equal payment of ten cents an hour to every laborer +was unjust, and that good work could not be secured if the worker was not +directly benefited. + +In his notes on the agriculture of Massachusetts, published in _The Dial_, +Emerson described his neighbor in these words: "In an afternoon in April, +after a long walk, I traversed an orchard where boys were grafting +apple-trees, and found the farmer in his cornfield. He was holding the +plough, and his son driving the oxen. This man always impresses me with +respect, he is so manly, so sweet-tempered, so faithful, so disdainful of +all appearances--excellent and reverable in his old weather-worn cap and +blue frock bedaubed with the soil of the field; so honest, withal, that he +always needs to be watched lest he should cheat himself. I still remember +with some shame that in some dealing we had together a long time ago, I +found that he had been looking to my interest, and nobody had looked to +his part. As I drew near this brave laborer in the midst of his own acres, +I could not help feeling for him the highest respect. Here is the Caesar, +the Alexander of the soil, conquering and to conquer, after how many and +many a hard-fought summer's day and winter's day; not like Napoleon, hero +of sixty battles only, but of six thousand, and out of every one he has +come victor; and here he stands, with Atlantic strength and cheer, +invincible still. These slight and useless city limbs of ours will come to +shame before this strong soldier, for his having done his own work and +ours too. What good this man has or has had, he has earned. No rich father +or father-in-law left him any inheritance of land or money. He borrowed +the money with which he bought his farm, and has bred up a large family, +given them a good education, and improved his land in every way year by +year, and this without prejudice to himself the landlord, for here he is, +a man every inch of him, and reminds us of the hero of the Robin Hood +ballad: + + 'Much, the miller's son, + There was no inch of his body + But it was worth a groom.' + +"Innocence and justice have written their names on his brow. Toil has not +broken his spirit. His laugh rings with the sweetness and hilarity of a +child; yet he is a man of a strongly intellectual taste, of much reading, +and of an erect good sense and independent spirit which can neither brook +usurpation nor falsehood in any shape. I walked up and down the field as +he ploughed his furrow, and we talked as we walked. Our conversation +naturally turned on the season and its new labors." The conversation went +on, leading to a discussion of the agricultural survey of the State; +Hosmer's opinions of it are quoted as of much worth, and as sounder than +anything which the writer could himself say on the subject. + +Mr. Sanborn is of the opinion that Edmund Hosmer was described as Hassan +in Emerson's fragments on the "Poet and the Poetic Gift," in the complete +edition of his poems: + + "Said Saadi, 'When I stood before + Hassan the camel-driver's door, + I scorned the fame of Timour brave; + Timour, to Hassan, was a slave: + In every glance of Hassan's eye + I read great years of victory, + And I, who cower mean and small + In the frequent interval + When wisdom not with me resides, + Worship Toil's wisdom that abides. + I shunned his eyes, that faithful man's, + I shunned the toiling Hassan's glance.'" + +Hosmer was also described by William Ellery Channing in his "New England": + + "This man takes pleasure o'er the crackling fire, + His glittering axe subdued the monarch oak; + He earned the cheerful blaze by something higher + Than pensioned blows--he owned the tree he stroke, + And knows the value of the distant smoke, + When he returns at night, his labor done, + Matched is his action with the long day's sun." + +Channing spoke of him again as the + + "Spicy farming sage, + Twisted with heat and cold and cramped with age, + Who grunts at all the sunlight through the year, + And springs from bed each morning with a cheer. + Of all his neighbors he can something tell, + 'Tis bad, whate'er, we know, and like it well! + The bluebird's song he hears the first in spring-- + Shoots the last goose bound south on freezing wing." + +Hosmer was also one of the farmer friends of Thoreau, who much enjoyed his +society and the vigor of his conversation. He is described in the +fourteenth chapter of "Walden" as among Thoreau's winter visitors at his +hut: "On a Sunday afternoon, if I chanced to be at home, I heard the +cronching of the snow made by the step of a long-headed farmer, who from +far through the woods sought my house, to have a social 'crack'; one of +the few of his vocation who are 'men on their farms'; who donned a frock +instead of a professor's gown, and is as ready to extract the moral out of +church or state as to haul a load of manure from his barn-yard. We talked +of rude and simple things, when men sat about large fires in cold, bracing +weather, with clear heads; and when other dessert failed, we tried our +teeth on many a nut which wise squirrels have long since abandoned, for +those which have the thickest shells are commonly empty." In W.E. +Channing's book about Thoreau as the "Poet-Naturalist," there is a passage +from his journal in which Thoreau speaks of Hosmer as the last of the +farmers worthy of mention. "Human life may be transitory and full of +trouble," he says, "but the perennial mind whose survey extends from that +spring to this--from Columella to Hosmer--is superior to change. I will +identify myself with that which will not die with Columella and will not +die with Hosmer." + +At Hosmer's house the two young men lived in a single room, and did their +own cooking and house-keeping. Mrs. Hosmer furnished them with milk, and +they ate crackers, cheese, and fruit largely. They were Grahamites, and +used no meat. They read much, and had with them a large number of books. +It was their custom here, as well as at Captain Barrett's, to spend much +time in the woods. They were enthusiastic students of botany, and came +home from their excursions in the woods with their arms loaded with +flowers, and often searched out the rarest which could be found in the +Walden and Lincoln woods. + +It was while the Curtises were living at Hosmer's that they assisted +Thoreau in building his hut at Walden Pond. Thoreau says that in March, +1845, he borrowed an axe and went into the woods to build him a house. The +axe was procured of Emerson, and he says he returned it sharper than when +he received it. He was assisted in building the house, he says, by some of +his acquaintances, "rather to improve so good an occasion for +neighborliness than from any necessity." These acquaintances were Emerson, +Alcott, W.E. Charming, Burrill and George Curtis, Edmund Hosmer and his +sons John, Edmund, and Andrew. Thoreau said that he wished the help of the +young men because they had more strength than the older ones, and that no +man was ever more honored in the character of his raisers than he. It was +Thoreau's custom while at Walden to dine on Sundays with Emerson, and to +stop at Hosmer's on his way back to the pond, often remaining to supper. +After the failure of his experiment at Fruitlands, it was into Hosmer's +house that Alcott found himself welcomed; and he was given much of help +and encouragement by the farmer and his wife. + + +VI + +At this time several of the Brook Farmers were living in Concord, and +among them were Bradford, Pratt, and Mrs. Barlow; and later on Marianne +Ripley, the sister of George Ripley, found a home there, and kept a school +for small children. On the third return of the Curtises to Concord, in the +summer of 1846, they found a home in the house of Minott Pratt, who was +living at the foot of Punkatassett Hill, on the top of which was the house +of Captain Barrett. In the same neighborhood lived William Ellery +Channing, the poet, whose wife was a sister of Margaret Fuller. They are +frequently mentioned in Hawthorne's and his wife's letters from the Old +Manse. Pratt's cottage was in a quiet, delightful location; and in the +family George Curtis found himself quite at home. + +Curtis made a very pleasant impression in Concord, for he was social in +his ways, paid much deference to others, and always exemplified a fine +etiquette. The brothers are remembered by one person who then knew them as +having no mannerisms, and as being perfect gentlemen. His article on +Emerson, in the "Homes of American Authors," gave much offence in the +town, and by Mrs. Alcott, as well as others, was warmly resented. He was +exact enough as to facts, but he drew from them wrong inferences. He +afterwards said that there was nothing romantic in his paper, and that +every incident mentioned was an actual occurrence. He had letters from +Emerson and Hawthorne before he wrote his papers on those two authors, to +enable him to verify certain details. + +The relations of Curtis and Hawthorne were cordial if not intimate. In a +letter to Hawthorne, written from Europe, Curtis said: "Does Mrs. +Hawthorne yet remember that she sent me a golden key to the studio of +Crawford, in Rome? I shall never forget that, nor any smallest token of +her frequent courtesy in the Concord days." In another letter to Hawthorne +he speaks of Concord as "our old home, which is very placid and beautiful +in my memory." In his paper on Hawthorne, in the "Homes of American +Authors," Curtis gave an interesting account of his acquaintance with that +reticent genius during these Concord days: + +"There glimmer in my memory a few hazy days, of a tranquil and +half-pensive character, which I am conscious were passed in and around the +house, and their pensiveness I know to be only that touch of twilight +which inhered in the house and all its associations. Beside the few chance +visitors there were city friends occasionally, figures quite unknown to +the village, who came preceded by the steam shriek of the locomotive, were +dropped at the gate-posts, and were seen no more. The owner was as much a +vague name to me as any one. + +"During Hawthorne's first year's residence in Concord, I had driven up with +some friends to an aesthetic tea at Mr. Emerson's. It was in the winter, +and a great wood fire blazed upon the hospitable hearth. There were +various men and women of note assembled, and I, who listened attentively +to all the fine things that were said, was for some time scarcely aware of +a man who sat upon the edge of the circle, a little withdrawn, his head +slightly thrown forward upon his breast, and his bright eyes clearly +burning under his black brow. As I drifted down the stream of talk, this +person, who sat silent as a shadow, looked to me as Webster might have +looked had he been a poet--a kind of poetic Webster. He rose and walked to +the window, and stood quietly there for a long time, watching the dead, +white landscape. No appeal was made to him, nobody looked after him, the +conversation flowed steadily on, as if every one understood that his +silence was to be respected. It was the same at table. In vain the silent +man imbibed aesthetic tea. Whatever fancies it inspired did not flower at +his lips. But there was a light in his eye which assured me that nothing +was lost. So supreme was his silence that it presently engrossed me to the +exclusion of everything else. There was very brilliant discourse, but this +silence was much more poetic and fascinating. Fine things were said by the +philosophers, but much finer things were implied by the dumbness of this +gentleman with heavy brows and black hair. When he presently rose and +went, Emerson, with the 'slow, wise smile' that breaks over his face like +day over the sky, said, 'Hawthorne rides well his horse of the night.' + +"Thus he remained in my memory, a shadow, a phantom, until more than a year +afterwards. Then I came to live in Concord. Every day I passed his house, +but when the villagers, thinking that perhaps I had some clew to the +mystery, said, 'Do you know this Mr. Hawthorne?' I said, 'No,' and trusted +to time. + +"Time justified my confidence, and one day I too went down the avenue and +disappeared in the house. I mounted those mysterious stairs to that +apocryphal study. I saw 'the cheerful coat of paint, and golden-tinted +paper-hangings, lighting up the small apartment; while the shadow of a +willow-tree, that swept against the overhanging eaves, attempered the +cheery western sunshine.' I looked from the little northern window whence +the old pastor watched the battle, and in the small dining-room beneath +it, upon the first floor, there were + + 'Dainty chicken, snow-white bread,' + +and the golden juices of Italian vineyards, which still feast insatiable +memory. + +"Our author occupied the Old Manse for three years. During that time he was +not seen, probably, by more than a dozen of the villagers. His walks could +easily avoid the town, and upon the river he was always sure of solitude. +It was his favorite habit to bathe every evening in the river, after +nightfall, and in that part of it over which the old bridge stood, at +which the battle was fought. Sometimes, but rarely, his boat accompanied +another up the stream, and I recall the silence and preternatural vigor +with which, on one occasion, he wielded his paddle to counteract the bad +rowing of a friend who conscientiously considered it his duty to do +something and not let Hawthorne work alone, but who, with every stroke, +neutralized all Hawthorne's efforts. I suppose he would have struggled +until he fell senseless, rather than ask his friend to desist. His +principle seemed to be, if a man cannot understand without talking to him, +it is useless to talk, because it is immaterial whether such a man +understands or not. His own sympathy was so broad and sure that, although +nothing had been said for hours, his companion knew that nothing had +escaped his eye, nor had a single pulse of beauty in the day or scene or +society failed to thrill his heart. In this way his silence was most +social. Everything seemed to have been said. It was a Barmecide feast of +discourse from which a greater satisfaction resulted than from an actual +banquet. + +"When a formal attempt was made to desert this style of conversation, the +result was ludicrous. Once Emerson and Thoreau arrived to pay a call. They +were shown into the little parlor upon the avenue, and Hawthorne presently +entered. Each of the guests sat upright in his chair like a Roman senator. +'To them,' Hawthorne, like a Dacian King. The call went on, but in a most +melancholy manner. The host sat perfectly still, or occasionally +propounded a question which Thoreau answered accurately, and there the +thread broke short off. Emerson delivered sentences that only needed the +setting of an essay to charm the world; but the whole visit was a vague +ghost of the Monday Evening Club at Mr. Emerson's--it was a great failure. +Had they all been lying idly on the river brink or strolling in Thoreau's +blackberry pastures, the result would have been utterly different. But +imprisoned in the proprieties of a parlor, each a wild man in his way, +with a necessity of talking inherent in the nature of the occasion, there +was only a waste of treasure. This was the only 'call' in which I ever +knew Hawthorne to be involved. + +"In Mr. Emerson's house I said it seemed always morning. But Hawthorne's +black-ash trees and scraggy apple boughs shaded + + 'A land in which it seemed always afternoon.' + +"I do not doubt that the lotus grew along the grassy marge of the Concord +behind his house, and that it was served, subtly concealed, to all his +guests. The house, its inmates, and its life lay dream-like upon the edge +of the little village. You fancy that they all came together and belonged +together, and were glad that at length some idol of your imagination, some +poet whose spell had held you, and would hold you forever, was housed as +such a poet should be. + +"During the lapse of the three years since the bridal tour of twenty miles +ended at the 'two tall gate-posts of roughhewn stone,' a little wicker +wagon had appeared at intervals upon the avenue, and a placid babe, whose +eyes the soft Concord day had touched with the blue of its beauty, lay +looking tranquilly up at the grave old trees, which sighed lofty lullabies +over her sleep. The tranquillity of the golden-haired Una was the living +and breathing type of the dreamy life of the Old Manse. Perhaps, that +being attained, it was as well to go. Perhaps our author was not surprised +or displeased when the hints came, 'growing more and more distinct, that +the owner of the old house was pining for his native air.' One afternoon I +entered the study and learned from its occupant that the last story he +should ever write there was written." + +In the midnight chapter of his "Blithedale Romance," Hawthorne described +an incident which actually took place in Concord. A young girl drowned +herself, and her body was found as there set forth. Hawthorne wrote a full +account of the drowning in his journal, which is printed by Julian +Hawthorne in his biography of "Nathaniel Hawthorne and His Wife." No +mention is made of Curtis, who took part in the search, and who gave his +own account of the affair in his paper on Hawthorne. When Thoreau went to +New York, in 1843, he put his boat into the keeping of Curtis, and he and +Channing made their excursions on the river in it. In it they searched for +Mary Hunt, who lived near Channing. Curtis's account of this affair +deserves to be placed by the side of Hawthorne's: + +"Martha was the daughter of a plain Concord farmer, a girl of delicate and +shy temperament, who excelled so much in study that she was sent to a fine +academy in a neighboring town, and won all the honors of the course. She +met at the school and in the society of the place a refinement and +cultivation, a social gayety and grace, which were entirely unknown in the +hard life she had led at home, and which by their very novelty, as well as +because they harmonized with her own nature and dreams, were doubly +beautiful and fascinating. She enjoyed this life to the full, while her +timidity kept her only a spectator; and she ornamented it with a fresher +grace, suggestive of the woods and fields, when she ventured to engage in +the airy game. It was a sphere for her capacities and talents. She shone +in it, and the consciousness of a true position and genial appreciation +gave her the full use of all her powers. She admired and was admired. She +was surrounded by gratifications of taste, by the stimulants and rewards +of ambition. The world was happy, and she was worthy to live in it. But at +times a cloud suddenly dashed athwart the sun--a shadow stole, dark and +chill, to the very edge of the charmed circle in which she stood. She knew +well what it was, and what it foretold, but she would not pause nor heed. +The sun shone again, the future smiled; youth, beauty, and all hopes and +thoughts bathed the moment in lambent light. + +"But school-days ended at last, and with the receding town in which they +had been passed, the bright days of life disappeared, and forever. It was +probable that the girl's fancy had been fed, perhaps indiscreetly +pampered, by her experience there. But it was no fairy-land. It was an +academy town in New England, and the fact that it was so alluring is a +fair indication of the kind of life from which she had emerged, and to +which she now returned. What could she do? In the dreary round of petty +details, in the incessant drudgery of a poor farmer's household, with no +companions or any sympathy--for the family of a hard-working New-England +farmer are not the Chloes and Clarissas of pastoral poetry, nor the +cowboys Corydons--with no opportunity of retirement and cultivation, for +reading and studying--which is always voted 'stuff' under such +circumstances--the light suddenly quenches out of life, what was she to +do? + +"The simple answer is that she had only used all her opportunities, and +that, although it was no fault of hers that the routine of her life was in +every way repulsive, she did struggle to accommodate herself to it, and +failed. When she found it impossible to drag on at home, she became an +inmate of a refined and cultivated household in the village, where she had +opportunity to follow her own fancies and to associate with educated and +attractive persons. But even here she could not escape the feeling that it +was all temporary, that her position was one of dependence; and her pride, +now grown morbid, often drove her from the very society which alone was +agreeable to her. This was all genuine. There was not the slightest strain +of the _femme incomprise_ in her demeanor. She was always shy and silent, +with a touching reserve which won interest and confidence, but left also a +vague sadness in the mind of the observer. After a few months she made +another effort to rend the cloud which was gradually darkening around her, +and opened a school for young children. But although the interest of +friends secured her a partial success, her gravity and sadness failed to +excite the sympathy of her pupils, who missed in her the playful gayety +always most winning to children. Martha, however, pushed bravely on, a +figure of tragic sobriety to all who watched her course. The farmers +thought her a strange girl, and wondered at the ways of the farmer's +daughter who was not content to milk cows and churn butter and fry pork, +without further hope or thought. The good clergyman of the town, +interested in her situation, sought a confidence she did not care to +bestow, and so, doling out a, b, c to a wild group of boys and girls, she +found that she could not untie the Gordian knot of her life, and felt with +terror that it must be cut. + +"One summer evening she left her father's house and walked into the fields +alone. Night came, but Martha did not return. The family became anxious, +inquired if any one had noticed the direction in which she went, learned +from the neighbors that she was not visiting, that there was no lecture +nor meeting to detain her, and wonder passed into apprehension. Neighbors +went into the adjacent woods and called, but received no answer. Every +instant the awful shadow of some dread event solemnized the gathering +groups. Every one thought what no one dared whisper, until a low voice +suggested the river. Then with the swiftness of certainty all friends far +and near were roused, and thronged along the banks of the stream. Torches +flashed in the boats that put off in the terrible search. Hawthorne, then +living in the Old Manse, was summoned, and the man whom the villagers had +only seen at morning as a musing spectre in his garden, now appeared among +them at night, to devote his strong arm and steady heart to their service. +The boats drifted slowly down the stream, the torches flashed strangely +upon the black repose of the waters, and upon the long slim grasses that +weeping fringed the marge. Upon both banks silent and awe-stricken crowds +hastened along, eager and dreading to find the slightest trace of what +they sought. Suddenly they came to a few articles of dress, heavy with the +night dew. No one spoke, for no one had doubted the result. It was clear +that Martha had strayed to the river, and quietly asked of its stillness +the repose she sought. The boats gathered around the spot. With every +implement that could be of service the melancholy search began. Long +intervals of fearful silence ensued, but at length, towards midnight, the +sweet face of the dead girl was raised more placidly to the stars than +ever it had been to the sun. + +"So ended a village tragedy. The reader may possibly find in it the +original of the thrilling conclusion of the 'Blithedale Romance,' and +learn anew that dark as is the thread with which Hawthorne weaves his +spells, it is no darker than those with which tragedies are spun, even in +regions apparently so torpid as Concord." + +Far too much has been made of the realistic elements in the "Blithedale +Romance." Hawthorne says in his preface that "he has occasionally availed +himself of his actual reminiscences;" but it cannot be claimed that he did +anything more. The fact seems to be that he used such reminiscences and +incidents merely as stimuli to his imagination, that the real romance of +the story was purely of his own creation. So far as he used the facts of +his life at Brook Farm it was to give an air of reality to his story; and +in no other sense can it be accepted as truthful to Brook Farm life. For +instance, his Zenobia was in every sense an original creation, and not a +description of any person he had known. Three persons he knew at Brook +Farm gave him hints, traits of character, and points of departure for the +activity of his imagination. The stately elements in Zenobia resembled +those of Mrs. George Ripley, her luxurious tastes were like those of Mrs. +Almira Barlow, while her genius and brilliancy had a few similarities to +Margaret Fuller. His habit seems to have been to take a single incident in +the life of a person, and to make that the chief one in a character. In +this way his romances gained a realistic phase of a very impressive kind; +but the character of a person as a whole he never copied. It is a strange +comment on his powerful writing that so much should have been made of his +superficial realism, while the persistent and profound romanticism of his +work is too often overlooked. Yet this was one of the weird results of his +genius, that his imagination weaves for itself a world more real than life +itself, and that claims for itself an acceptance as truer to facts than +the word of the historian. + +In his paper on Emerson, Curtis gives further account of his life in +Concord. He said that "Thoreau lives in the berry-pastures upon a bank +over Walden Pond, and in a little house of his own building. One pleasant +summer afternoon a small party of us helped him raise it--a bit of life as +Arcadian as any at Brook Farm. Elsewhere in the village he turns up +arrow-heads abundantly, and Hawthorne mentions that Thoreau initiated him +into the mystery of finding them." His account of the club which gathered +for a few evenings in Emerson's study deserves to be placed here in order +to complete his story of Concord experiences, the fictitious names used by +him being changed to the real ones: + +"It was in the year 1845 that a circle of persons of various ages, and +differing very much in everything but sympathy, found themselves in +Concord. Towards the end of the autumn, Mr. Emerson suggested that they +should meet every Monday evening through the winter in his library. +'Monsieur Aubepine,' 'Miles Coverdale,' and other phantoms, since known as +Nathaniel Hawthorne, who then occupied the Old Manse; the inflexible Henry +Thoreau, a scholastic and pastoral Orson, then living among the blackberry +pastures of Walden Pond; Plato Skimpole [Margaret Fuller's name for +Alcott], then sublimely meditating impossible summer-houses in a little +house on the Boston Road; the enthusiastic agriculturist and Brook Farmer +[George Bradford], then an inmate of Mr. Emerson's house, who added the +genial cultivation of a scholar to the amenities of the natural gentleman; +a sturdy farmer-neighbor [Edmund Hosmer], who had bravely fought his weary +way through inherited embarrassment to the small success of a New England +husbandman; two city youths [George and Burrill Curtis], ready for the +fragments from the feast of wit and wisdom; and the host himself, composed +the club. Ellery Channing, who had that winter harnessed his Pegasus to +the New York _Tribune_, was a kind of corresponding member. The news of +this world was to be transmitted through his eminently practical genius, +as the club deemed itself competent to take charge of tidings from all +other spheres. + +"I went the first evening very much as Ixion may have gone to his banquet. +The philosophers sat dignified and erect. There was a constrained but very +amiable silence, which had the impertinence of a tacit inquiry, seeming to +ask, 'Who will now proceed to say the finest thing that has ever been +said?' It was quite involuntary and unavoidable, for the members lacked +that fluent social genius without which a club is impossible. It was a +congress of oracles on the one hand, and of curious listeners upon the +other. I vaguely remember that the Orphic Alcott invaded the Sahara of +silence with a solemn 'Saying,' to which, after due pause, the honorable +member for Blackberry Pastures responded by some keen and graphic +observations, while the Olympian host, anxious that so much material +should be spun into something, beamed smiling encouragement upon all +parties. But the conversation became more and more staccato. Hawthorne, a +statue of night and silence, sat a little removed, under a portrait of +Dante, gazing imperturbably upon the group; and as he sat in the shadow, +his dark hair and eyes and suit of sables made him, in that society, the +black thread of mystery which he weaves into his stories; while the +shifting presence of the Brook Farmer played like heat lightning around +the room. + +"I remember little else but a grave eating of russet apples by the erect +philosophers, and a solemn disappearance into night. The club struggled +through three Monday evenings. Alcott was perpetually putting apples of +gold in pictures of silver; for such was the rich ore of his thoughts +coined by the deep melody of his voice. Thoreau charmed us with the +secrets won from his interviews with Pan in the Walden woods; while +Emerson, with the zeal of an engineer trying to dam wild waters, sought to +bind the wide-flying embroidery of discourse into a whole of clear, sweet +sense. But still in vain. The oracular sayings were the unalloyed +saccharine element; and every chemist knows how much else goes to +practical food--how much coarse, rough, woody fibre is essential. The club +struggled on valiantly, discoursing celestially, eating apples, and +disappearing in the dark, until the third evening it vanished altogether. +But I have since known clubs of fifty times the number, whose collected +genius was not more than that of either of the Dii Majores of our Concord +coterie. The fault was its too great concentration. It was not relaxation, +as a club should be, but tension. Society is a play, a game, a tournament; +not a battle. It is the easy grace of undress; not an intellectual, +full-dress parade." + + +VII + +As will have been seen, Curtis never lost his interest in Brook Farm or +his faith in the principles on which it was founded. In his letters to +Dwight he clearly pointed out its defects, and he indicated in an +emphatic manner that he could not accept some of its methods. He showed +that he was an individualist rather than an associationist or socialist, +that his supreme faith was in individual effort, and in each person making +himself right before he undertook to reform society. His "Easy Chair" +essays make it clear that he saw with keen vision the limitations of Brook +Farm; but it had for him a distinct charm, and one that increased rather +than grew less as the years went on. The Brook Farm effort to right the +wrongs of society, to give all persons an opportunity in life, and to +bring the help of all to the aid of each one, he heartily accepted in its +spirit and intent; and to that faith he ever held with unswerving +confidence. + +Not less did the Concord episode remain with Curtis as a bright spot in +his life. He gladly went to Concord whenever the opportunity offered; he +frequently lectured there, and was always heard with delight; and he gave +the Centennial Address, April 19, 1875, on the occasion of the one +hundredth anniversary of the battle at the old north bridge. + +It was a part of the Brook Farm and Concord life which Curtis continued in +his intimacy with Dwight. So great was the confidence of this friendship +that he wrote to Dwight as soon as his marriage had been arranged, telling +him of his happiness, and telling him that the promised bride was the +daughter of their old Brook Farm friends, the Francis George Shaws. "Do +you remember her in Brook Farm days?" he asked. "There was never anything +that made parents and children happier." In closing his letter he wrote: +"When do you come to New York? I so want you to see her and know her; then +of course you will love her. Give my love to your wife--think that love is +not for this world, but forever!--and remember your friend who remembers +you." In his reply, Dwight said: + +"You are right, George; link your destinies with _youth_. I scarcely +believe in anything else--except Spring and Morning. But then, there is a +way of making these--the soul of them--perpetual; and you have the secret +of it, I am sure, better than most of us. + +"To think of that child, who used to play about Brook Farm, and go through +finger drudgery under my piano-professorship (Heaven save the mark!), the +child of our young friends, Mr. and Mrs. F.S. (how can you think of them +as parents?) being the future Mrs. Howadji! or I a dull drudge of an +editor! I do wish indeed to see and know her, and doubt not I shall find +your glowing statements all confirmed, and that in your height of joy you +need not be ashamed to 'blush it east and blush it west.' There is a +certain 'Maud'-like ecstasy in your note that makes me think of that. + +"A small bird had already sung the news in my ear. But it was doubly +pleasant to have it straight from you. It was good in you to remember me +so.... Would that I might see you in New York! but I must content myself +with the not very remote prospect of having you by the hand here. Till +then, believe me happy in your happiness, and faithfully as ever your +friend." + +Francis George Shaw, and his wife Sarah B. Shaw, were not members of the +Brook Farm community; but they lived in the immediate vicinity, often +visited the farm, joined in its entertainments, and were intimate friends +of the leaders of the association. He was a contributor to the Harbinger, +for which he wrote a number of articles in favor of the associationist +social movement. He made an admirable translation of George Sand's +"Consuelo" for the paper, in which that novel was for the first time +printed in this country. Their children were frequently at the farm, and +grew up in the midst of such ideas and influences as it fostered. One of +them was that Colonel Robert G. Shaw who was "buried with his niggers" at +Fort Wagner, after having led one of the most gallant military movements +of modern times. Three of the daughters married, Curtis, General Barlow, +and General Charles Russell Lowell. Mrs. Josephine Shaw Lowell has made +for herself a lasting name by her philanthropies, and her generous +interest in all good causes. Mrs. Shaw wrote the biography of her son +Robert, which was published in the work devoted to the Harvard graduates +who fell in the Civil War. + +The real effect of Brook Farm, and that movement of which it was a part, +can be rightly understood only when there is taken into consideration what +they did for such persons as Shaw, Curtis, Barlow, Lowell, and Mrs. +Lowell. These persons were trained by Brook Farm and Transcendentalism; +and their aspirations, philanthropies, chivalrous spirit, and romantic +courage were fostered and developed by them. The tone and quality of +Shaw's courage, and of his heroic effort for the colored men, found in +Brook Farm their motive and incentive; and in Brook Farm because it +represented a phase of life much larger than itself, one that fosters the +noblest faith in men and in the spiritual future of humanity. Of Barlow +and Lowell it may be also said that their heroism and their patriotism +were the legitimate products of that movement whose hope and faith were +the inspiration of their youth. To this source was due Barlow's love of +justice, his unflinching courage in opposing self-seekers and partisan +patriots, and his trust in the ultimate worth of what is right and true. + +The letters printed in this volume have a large interest as indications of +how George William Curtis was making ready for his life-work. His +independence, his love of humanity, his courage in maintaining his own +convictions, his chivalrous and romantic spirit, his literary skill and +charm, his profound spiritual convictions, that would not be limited by +any sectarian bounds, all find expression here in such form as to give +sure promise for his future. It was a somewhat erratic kind of training +which Curtis received; but for him it was better than any college of his +day could have given him. Admirably fitted to his tastes, it was no less +well adapted to his needs. It fostered in him all that was best in his +character, and it served to bring out his genius to its rounded +expression. + +The two years which Curtis spent in Concord must have been of the greatest +value to him. His contact with Emerson was of itself of inestimable worth, +for it gave him that enthusiasm for ideas, that contact with a noble life +lived for the highest ends of spiritual development, which fostered in him +the enthusiasms which were so genuine a part of his life. Without Brook +Farm, Transcendentalism, and Emerson, it is quite safe to say that the +life of Curtis would have been less worthy of our admiration. The stay in +Concord was a time of seed-planting, and the harvest came in all that the +man was in later years. Without the enthusiasms then cherished the +independent in politics would have been less courageous. And these letters +may suggest anew one of the most important lessons of education, that +without enthusiasms no man can do any great or noble work in the world. +What will give to youth visions, ideals, and enthusiasms is worth all +other parts of culture, for out of these grow the noblest results of human +willing, thinking, and doing. + + + + +EARLY LETTERS TO JOHN S. DWIGHT + + +I + +PROVIDENCE, _August 18, 1843._ + +Are you quite recovered from those divine enchantments which held us bound +so long? Memory preserves for me those silvery sounds, and almost I seem +to catch their echo. Have we indeed heard the Siren song--are we +unscathed? Let me be your Father John, and to these reverend years commit +the tale of youthful fervor. So good a Catholic as I, of course, has long +ago made confession. But another yet remains for me--namely, that I cannot +get that song. Yesterday I heard from Isaac, who cannot buy it in New +York. Nothing but a copy for the guitar and that Rosalie. Would it be an +expensive thing to import? Reed told me he could do that, but as I +supposed there was no doubt of its being in New York, I said nothing about +it. She should have the song; it would be so fine falling out of her +mouth. Mouth-dropped gems would be no longer a fable. As, indeed, we have +seen already. For what so universal an Interpreter as music? That art has +the gift of tongues (_ecce_, the Singing-School). + +Burrill met with a mishap on Wednesday. We were walking out of town, and +he, springing from a wall, turned his ankle and sprained it. He is +therefore laid up for some days. It is a disappointment to him, for he +hoped to leave on Monday next, and meanwhile see several persons. I doubt +if he can step on his foot so soon. + +I had yesterday a German letter from Isaac; German in spirit, not in +language. He has certainly a great heart, more delicate in his character +than I thought, with a constant force, nervous, not muscular strength. + +Will you accept so city-like a letter? I am busy or I should write more; +another time will suffice. Let me accept from you a country-like letter. + +Yours in the bonds, + +G.W.C. + + +II + +PROVIDENCE, _September 1, 1843._ + +My dear Friend,--Your letter did not reach my hands until last evening, +when I returned from Newport, where I have passed the last eight days, how +pleasantly I need not tell you. After the quiet beauty of our farm home, +there was a striking grandeur in the sea that I never beheld so plainly +before. There is something sublimely cheerful about the ocean, altho' it +is so stored with woe, and so constantly suggestive it is of that ocean, +life, whereon we all float. + +It was pleasant to me that Nature confirmed my judgment of Tennyson. The +little poem that closes one of the volumes, "Break, break, break," etc., +is so exquisitely human and tender, with all its vague and dim beauty, +that the waves dashed to its music, and silently the whole sea sung the +song. Just so the jottings down of poets, the few words that must be said, +tho' the Nature which they sing is so limitless, and inexpressible are the +blossoms of poetry and all literature. Will not the little song of +Shakespeare's, "Take, oh! take those lips away," be as immortal as Hamlet? +Not because chance may print them together, but because it is as universal +and more delicate an expression. That charm pervades our favorite, +Tennyson. There is no rough-marked outline, all fades away upon earnest +contemplation into the tones of his songs, into the colors of the sky. So +in the landscape, tint fades gently into tint, and the beauty that +attracts spreads from leaf to hill, from hill to horizon, till the whole +is bathed in sunlight. Is not this fact also recognized in other arts? In +painting, the great picture is without marked outline; in music, the +truest and deepest is undefined. Beethoven is greater than Haydn. The +precision which offends in manner is as disagreeable everywhere else. Is +it not because when named as Precision, the depth which necessarily means +a graceful form is absent? As when we say a woman has beautiful eyes we +indirectly acknowledge her want of universal beauty. Certainly a man of +elegant manners is admired not for himself, but what he represents. +Indeed, all society is only thus endurable. Nature, and to me particularly +the ocean, makes no such partial impression; and therefore the poet who +sits nearest to the great heart sings rather the sense of vague beauty and +aspiration, of tender remembrance and gentle hope, than a bald description +of the sight. The ocean is not fathomless water nor the woods green trees +to him, but a presence, and a key that unlocks the chambers of his soul +where the diamonds are. Therefore, when I have been into nearer +conversation with Nature I have little to say, but my life is deepened. +The poet is he who with deepened life chants also a flowing hymn which +utters the music of that life. You will understand why the little poem +seems to me so fine, therefore. This water I also see; but not in me lies +the power of the due expression of its influence. + +There was another pleasant aspect in Newport, of persons. I walked one +evening towards the town (for I was boarding in the outskirts), and passed +an encampment of soldiers, who in their gay uniforms glittered among the +lighted tents like soldier fays. The band in the shadow of the camp was +playing very sweetly airs proper for that fading light, half-mournful, +half-tender and hopeful. I passed by the houses brilliantly lighted and +filled with finely dressed people, who also thronged the streets. Before +one of the principal hotels was a band from the fort serenading, and +surrounded with a crowd of easy listeners. The ice-cream resort was +filled, the cottages shone among the trees, and an air of entire +abandonment to joy filled the place. Old men and young men, women and +girls, seemed to have laid aside all business, all care, and to be only +gay. It was a vision of the Lotos islands, an earthly portrait of that +meek repose which haunts us ideally sometimes. + +I was surprised upon my return to find Burrill still here. He is able only +to crutch about the house, but will probably return to Brook Farm with me +during the latter part of next week, which is the commencement week +here.... + +I should have been glad to have seen the gay picnic, and to have heard the +O.; let me hope she will not be gone when I return. I am exceedingly +obliged for your kind suggestion of "Adelaide," and if you choose to +present it as a joint gift, you confer a great pleasure upon me. + +Commend me particularly to Almira; to the young men whom you will, +including mainly Charles D. and James S.; to Mr. and Mrs. R.; and if you +will write me again you will be sure that your proxy will be welcome to + +Your friend, + +G.W. CURTIS. + +Will you say to Miss Russell that I shall see my aunt this afternoon, and +will perform her commission. Moreover, that I am gratified at so +distinguished a mark of her approbation as the permission to escort a +plant to her garden. + +G.W.C. + + +III + +NEW YORK, _Saturday eve'g, November 11, 1843._ + +Your letter has just reached me, my dear friend, loaded with much that was +not in it, and which needed only a person or a letter from a region so +delightful to bear it to me. Already my life at the Farm is removed and +transfigured. It stands for so much in my experience, and is so fairly +rounded, that I know the experience could never return, tho' the residence +might be renewed. When we mend the broken chain, we see ever after the +point of union. + +To-night the wind sighs thro' the chimney, complaining and wailing and +melting away in a depth of sadness, as if it would pacify its own sorrow, +and found newer grief in that need. The clouds break and roll away in the +sky, and the wan moon sails up as if to a weary duty. Yet so calm it is, +so pure, that it chides weariness and preaches a deep, still hope. In the +city I seem not to breathe quite freely yet, but daily I gain ground and +air. It is so different, even more than I tho't; so new, tho' I had seen +it for years; so full, tho' I walk miles without speaking or seeing a face +seen before. I must constantly say to myself, "Be quiet, be quiet. This +huge enigma will gradually explain itself, and out of these conventions +and courtesies you shall see the same tender Nature looking that so +enchanted your country life." + +Here is Burrill, and we are of more worth to each other than ever before. +Sometimes I fear to think how much. He was as glad to see me as the old +Christians a prophet, for I know him best of all. + +The aspect of things here impresses me mainly with the absolute necessity +and duty of making our place good. The stern, stirring activity around me +compels me to give account to myself of my silence and repose. The answer +is always clear and steady. I have not heard the voice. Yet my mind begins +to shape some outline of life. Of this I am assured, that in this world of +work, where the hum of business makes music with the stars, I must work +too. And how I must work, by what handle I shall grasp the world and +justify my consumption of its food, that begins to appear. My Genius is +not decided enough to lead me unquestioning in any one direction, and my +taste is so equally cultivated and developed that choice seems somewhat +arbitrary. Yet it is not so. Above all, I regret no culture, tho' it may +have thus multiplied the roads to be chosen. It is a tinge and charm to +whatever is performed. + +A gentleman in never so ragged clothes is a gentleman still. You may be +sure nothing has charmed me more than my meeting with Isaac in his mealy +clothes and brown-paper cap. His manner had a grand dignity, because he +was universally related by his diligent labor, and my conversation with +him was as earnest and happy as any intercourse I have had with him. This +general activity does not reprove me, for my silence respects itself and +gives good reasons why judgment should not proceed. And therefore it views +more lovingly what surrounds it. The God stirs within, and presently will +say something. Let us plant ourselves there and be lawyers that we may so +dispense justice, not that we may get bread; and priests, because the +Divine will speaks thro' us; and merchants and doctors and shoemakers and +bakers, from the same reason. If we honestly serve in any such profession, +bread will come of course. + +Your letter has quickened my thought upon these things, quite active +before. My impulse is to say at once, go. The worst and all you can dread +is the foul breath that will befog your fair name, because E.W. has done +what he has, because you _were_ a minister and _are_ a Transcendentalist +and a seceder from the holy office, and a dweller at _that place_, unknown +to perfumed respectability and condemned of prejudice and error. This is +the first great reason, and the second is not unlike unto it. It is that +you retard your preparation for any permanent pursuit, as a centre of your +sensuous life, by passing two or three years in Europe. With respect to +the first reason, not your own feelings, but those of your friends, demand +some consideration. In Heaven's court will their sorrow at your departure +and intimacy with E.W. at this time outweigh your own happiness at the +trip, and because so you lend your own good character to one perhaps +unjustly condemned. Such a sudden departure and intimacy with him might +have an indirect influence upon your future attempts to base yourself in +some way. If your mind is determining itself towards no pursuit, and you +anticipate the same general employment that has filled the last year or +two, I should say go. If God doesn't call here, he may in Europe; and if +not for years, your voyage cannot interfere with him. There are privater +reasons, which you know, of his character and of your probability of +assimilation, and of your independence in intimacies. Perhaps you may link +little fingers, if you cannot clasp the whole hand. On the whole, I should +say go, though not without due thought of friends, to whom your name and +relation may be more than your friendship. You will soon let me know of +your movements, will you not? + +For a week or two, I am man of the house for my cousin, whose husband is +in Boston. Burrill fulfils the same duty for an aunt. It is a great +separation, though only a step separates us when I am at home; but the +fine social sympathy of actual contact, in the early morning and late +night, the kind deeds that link the minutes and adorn the hours, the +tender sweets of the dignity of friendship without its form--these are +buds that bloom only in the warmth of hands perpetually united. + +To-night Charles Dana and Isaac and Burrill came to see me. I smelled +summer leaves and heard summer flutes as I stood with them and talked. +Charles was never so important to me; he was himself and all Brook Farm +beside. We are all going to hear William Henry Channing in the morning. +Last Sunday at the church door I met C.P. Cranch and his wife. I mean to +go and see them very soon, though they live _streets_ away. Of Isaac I +have seen much for a week's space. He lives two miles or more from us. + +I have heard no music yet. Max Bohrer concerts on Monday with Timm, Mrs. +Sutton, Antogigni, and Schafenberg; I mean to go. The Philharmonic +concerts begin a week from this evening. They have four concerts, and the +subscription is $10, for which one obtains three tickets to each concert, +and the privilege of buying two occasional tickets at $1.50 each. A +singular arrangement. They are to play the 8th Symphony next Saturday. I +know not what else. + +Give Almira a great deal of love from me. I shall sing a song to her +solitude and patiently await the response. I have begun to read "Wilhelm +Meister" in German. I read about three or four hours a day, then an hour +or two in Latin, and the rest to poetical reading--Beaumont and Fletcher, +Ford, Massinger, Shakespeare, and the Bible, at present. In Worcester I +found Montaigne, whom I devoured. What cheerful good sense! I have begun +also to learn two or three of B.'s waltzes from note. "La Dobur" I have +almost accomplished. Possibly I shall thus pick up some _note_ knowledge, +though I do not build any castles. Good-night. Could I but send myself in +my letter! Your friend, + +G.W.C. + +Tuesday morning. I concluded to retain my letter for Charles, who leaves +to-day. Charles and Isaac and Burrill and I all went to Max Bohrer's +concert last evening. The hall was full, 1000 or 1500 people present. I +was glad to go, for he introduced me to the Instrument, but no more. He +has great skill, and has fully mastered it. That is what persevering +talent can always do. Bohrer loved his instrument because he could display +himself by its aid, not because it was through his genius a minister and +revealer of the art to himself and others. His conceit is sublime. It was +entire and unique. His posture and air were ridiculously Olympian. Mrs. +Sutton is very fat and has a thin voice. There are some good tones in it, +but she undertakes the most difficult music. Antignini sings pleasantly +but with great effort. All his songs were his own composition, and all Max +Bohrer's his. In fact, it was not a musical festival so much as a +gymnasium for musical instruments, both mechanical and human. Timm and +Scharfenberg both played admirably. I saw Fred'k Rakemann in the crowd; +could not conveniently speak to him, and am going, as soon as I can find +out where he lives, to see him. His face was so sad that I wanted to go to +him and say some tenderer word than I should have said had I spoken. Yet +after all he doesn't need tender words, but a calm, grateful demeanor +towards him. + +I wish that I could tell all the glories of my trip to New York. I went +from Worcester over the Western R.R. to Albany and down the river. Some +other day shall be consecrated to their fit celebration when the +recollection may be pleasant and soothing among cares that disturb. Now I +expect Charles every moment to go with me to see Cranch. + +Ask Charles for all news about our "externe." Remember me most tenderly to +my many friends at Brook Farm. + +G.W.C. + + +IV + +NEW YORK, _November 20, '43._ + +Certainly, my dear Friend, the concert of the Philharmonic Society on +Saturday evening was the finest concert ever given in the country. It is +pleasant to see the homage paid to the art indirectly by the whole style +of the concert. The room is small, holding 1000 people. Every gentleman +goes in full-dress, and the ladies in half-dress. Various members of the +society are appointed managers, distinguished by a ribboned button-hole, +and they provide seats for the audience. No bills are issued before the +night, so there are only rumors of what the _particular_ will be, with a +quiet consciousness that the _general_ will be fine. So we arrived on +Saturday evening and found the following bill: Symphony No. 7 in A minor +(Beethoven); Cavatina from an opera of Nini's (Signora Castellan); +Overture to "Zauberflote" (Mozart); Cavatina from Donizetti (Signora +Castellan); Overture to "The Jubilee" (Weber). I think we have not had +many such concerts. + +The symphony was interpreted upon the bills as a musical presentment of +the mythological story of Orpheus and Eurydicc. That did very well as a +figure to represent it, but it was taken by the audience as a theme; and +they all fixed their eyes upon the explanation, thereby to judge the +symphony. It was grand, and full of his genius. It was another of those +earnest, hopeless questionings of Destiny. The very first bars were full +of this. It opens with a crash of the whole orchestra, determined and +inexorable. Then follows a low deep wailing of the flutes and horns, full +of tenderness, of aspiration, of subdued hope; and another crash of the +whole, like a lightning flash, instantaneous and scathing the world, +sweeps across the plaintiveness of the wind instruments and as instantly +is gone. The sad inquiry continues, the determined Thunder of Fate drowns +it constantly, and it is lost. Then it becomes more imperious and active, +and the call upon the Invisible and the Unanswerable sounds on every side, +rises to the top of the flutes, sinks to the lowest bases, appears now +among the violins, now vanishes to the rest, until it has disciplined the +whole, and the whole orchestra together thunders out the call. Then comes +the adagio, where, as always, the mystery seems to be developing itself, +where the earnest-seeking solemnly consecrates itself to success; and the +minuet and finale conclude--the soaring, mocking, hellish laughter of +fiends and demons of the air, at baffled curiosity and blighted hope. Is +not that what these symphonies express? The pith of the matter is never +reached. The very movement of the adagio, while it expresses a deep, +solemn hope, seems to mourn with unutterable sorrow that the hope must be +only consecrated and profound, never realized. The climax of the music and +the sentiment seems to be always in the adagio. + +What remained for such a man as he, separate from all others and alone +with his life, but to question the Fate that impelled him, now in this +tone and now in that? What remained for such unsatisfied, joyless strength +but the stern, wild laughter of fiends that the question could not be +answered--and the deep wail of Fate, which also is sung in his music, that +such strength should have the ruggedness of endurance but not the +gracefulness of Faith? How I wished you had been there! + +Castellan's voice is full and rich; it was very sweet, and she sang with +warmth but no passion. She needs some cultivation yet, for her shake is +not good. Why did we not hear Mali-bran? who was also so great an actor +that she would have been famous without a voice. I could not for a moment +suffer my idea of her to be compared with Castellan. Malibran must have +been so lovely from her sensibility and passion, so commanding from the +majesty of her voice, that the art and not the woman must have found newer +worshippers with every new audience. + +I hope to hear Cinto Damoreau this week. You have heard "The Magic Flute" +overture, I think, so fairy-like and graceful, full of tender shadows and +heart-rejoicing sunlight and aerial shapes that fade and glint like stars. +And the magnificent "Jubilee" concluded with "God save the King." + +Evening. My aunt sent for me to hear Timm play the "Pathetique." His +playing is wonderfully graceful, his touch more delicate than either of +the R.'s. But he lacks genius; and time and practice will give Fred. R. +all that Timm has. He is very enthusiastic. I spoke to him of "Egmont;" he +seemed delighted, said he hadn't heard it for 12 years, but instantly sat +down and played portions of it. He promised to play the adagio of the +"Pathetique" on the organ next Sunday. We had but a few moments, for his +time is all devoted to teaching, or I should have kept him till midnight. +He is so simple and natural about the matter that it is very pleasant to +be with him. If you mention anything to him, he instantly runs to the +piano and plays something from it. Imagine him the other evening standing +up straddling the stool, a roll of music under each arm, gloves in hand, +and playing a movement from one of the symphonies! + +I have been to see Cranch; found his wife at home, whom I have not seen +since January. They are pleasantly situated, though a good way off. He has +a room in the house where he paints. I saw two of his landscapes, views +from nature, that were very striking. If I should find fault, I should say +they were too warmly colored; and I suspect that is his error, if he has +any, from what his wife told me he said of one of Durand's. + +Mr. Furness preached finely for us on Sunday. Mr. Dewey does not charm me +at all. Have heard W.H.C. once, as Charles will have told you. Have not +yet seen him, for I have been out to see people hardly at all. Met Isaac +at the Saturday concert. He looks fresh and well. Seems better every way +than I ever knew him. Has he not found his place? I must see him again to +discern the direction of Almira, to whom I have a letter written partly, +and know not how to address it. + +Are you singing Eastward ho! or do you remain? Remember that he who +criticises Handel and Mozart, as the "Democratic" witnesseth, owes +something to the art--shall I say _his life_? What literary work are you +about, or have you still the same reluctance to assume the pen that you +had? Let the consideration that the pen is so invaluable a minister to +friendship tempt you to honor it more by use. + +I have squeezed myself into such little space that I must defer an outline +of my days till I write again. One moral inquiry for your wits, and I will +withdraw into silence and the infinite. Does not one friend who indites +many letters, unanswered, to another, thereby heap coals of fire upon +somebody's head as effectually as if he fed the hungry? Scatter my love as +broadly as you think it will bear, and reserve the carver's share for +yourself. + +G.W.C. + + +V + +_Saturday night, November 25, '43._ + +Why do I love music enough to be only a lover, and cannot offer it a +life-devoted service? Yet the lover serves in his sort, and if I may not +minister to it, it cannot fail to dignify and ennoble my life. I am just +from hearing Ole Bull, who this evening made his first appearance in +America. How shall I fitly speak to you of him, how can I now, while the +new vision of beauty that he caused to sweep by still lingers? Yet itself +shall inspire me. The presence of so noble a man allures to light whatever +nobility lies in us. + +He came forward to a house crowded in every part with the calm simplicity +of Genius. There was no grimace, no graces, but a fine grace that adorned +his presence and assured one that nothing could disappoint--that the +simplicity of the man was the seal and crown of his genius. A fair-haired, +robust, finely formed man, the full bloom of health shining on his face, +he appeared as the master of the great instrument, as the successor, in +point of time, of the world-famous Paganini. Yet was one confident that +here was no imitator, but a pupil who had sat thoughtfully at the master's +feet and felt that beneath the depth of his expression there was yet a +lower depth, who knew himself consecrated by a will grander than his will +to the service of an art so divine and so loved. In him there was that +sure prophecy of latent power which surrounds genius, and assures us that +the thing done is an echo only and shadow of the possible performance. + +The playing followed this simple, majestic appearance. It was full of +music, irregular, wild, yearning, trembling. His violin lay upon his arm +tenderly as a living thing; and such rich, mellow, silver, shining tones +followed his motion that one seemed to catch echoes of that eternal melody +whereof music itself is but the shadow and presentment. The adagios +reminded me of Beethoven, not as they were imitated, but as all the great +ones, in their appearing, summon all the rest. The mechanical execution +was faultless. I detected no thick note. It was smooth as the sea of +summer, embosoming only deep cloud-shadows and the full sunlight, but no +lesser thing. Then he came, and he withdrew; and my heart followed him. + +Do not be alarmed if the critics call him cold, and speak of him +disparagingly when others are mentioned. The noble and heroes serve divine +powers, and at last win men. Men of talent and application love their +instrument as it introduces the world to them; men of genius as it +interprets to them and to the world the mystery of music. Genius men must +reverence, and they are not apt to do it boisterously. Is not the +influence of fine character, which is only genius for virtue, like the +brooding of God over chaos? Which is chaos only to the blind, but teems +with generous, melodious laws to the spiritually discerned. Creation is +the opening of eyes, not the fabrication of objects. "Let there be light" +is the creative fiat, spoken by every God-filled soul. Yet how sure is +this power of Genius. + +The world henceforth gives to Ole Bull the full and generous satisfaction +of his needs. It cannot fail to esteem God's messengers when they come, if +they be true and collected. Talent wins the same subsistence; earnest, +unfailing, unshrinking endeavor wins it anywhere; but what does Talent and +Trial do but imitate the action of the result of Genius! How sublime the +revelations it makes in this art! While the rest have risen and culminated +and paused, this seeks a zenith ever loftier and diviner. That deep +nature, that central beauty, which all art strives to reveal, floats to us +in these fine harmonies, to me more subtly and surely than elsewhere. But +in this region, where my thought bears me, they are all united. This soft, +silent face of Urania, which looks upon me sleeplessly and untired, is not +its wonderful influence woven of that same essence that has ravished me +tonight in the tones of the violin? In the coolness of thought, do not the +masters of song, of painting, of sculpture meet in eternal congress, for +in each is the appearance of equal skill? Raphael could have sung as +Shakespeare, and Milton have hewn these massy forms as Angelo. Yet a +divine economy rules these upper spiritual regions, as sure and steadfast +as the order of the stars. Raphael must paint and Homer sing, yet the same +soul gilds the picture and sweetens the song. So Venus and Mars shine +yellow and red, but the same central fire is the light of each. In the +capacity of doing all things well lies the willingness to serve one duty. +The Jack of all trades is sure to be good at none, for who is good at all +is Jack of one only. It seemed a bitter thing to me, formerly, that +painters must only paint and sculptors carve; but I see now the wisdom. In +one thing well done lies the secret of doing all. + +Music, painting, are labels that designate the form of action; the soul of +it lies below. The earnest merchant and the earnest anti-tradesman do join +hands and work together. Not ends are demanded of them, but vital strength +and soul. The world does not need that I name my work, but that the work +be accomplished. + +The midnight warns me to pause. The stillness accords with the intercourse +of friendship, as the silence of space with the calm, speechless +recognition of the planets. Thoughts of all friends circle round me like +gentle breezes from the black wing of the night. Friends are equal and +noble always to friends. Lovers only know the depths and the heights of +lovers. Love prophesies only a surer, diviner friendship, crowned with the +dignity and composure of God. + +I shall re-enter the world through the white gate of dreams, yet more +quiet and resolved that I have heard this man, more tender, more tolerant. +He has touched strings of that harp whose vibrations never cease, but +affirm the infiniteness of our being and its present habitation in +Eternity. Your friend, + +G.W.C. + +Wednesday. Sunday P.M. I passed with Fred. Rakemann. He was very glad to +see me, and I him. His fine face lighted with enthusiasm as we spoke of +music, of Germany and its poets. He played magnificently, among others +"Adelaide," translated for the piano by Liszt, a beautiful andante of +Chopin, some of Henselt, etc., until it was quite twilight. Then I went +away. He promised to come and see me, nor shall I fail to see him as often +as I think he will endure, though his days are so busy with teaching that +I do not hope to find him except on Sundays. + +To-night Ole Bull plays the second time. I shall go to hear him. The +Frenchmen are cliqued against him, for Vieuxtemps has arrived, and they +mean to maintain his superiority. He has no announcement as yet. My letter +I will not close until to-morrow, and say a final word about Ole Bull. +Wednesday night. I have heard him again, and the impression he made on +Saturday is only deepened. He played an adagio of Mozart's. It was simple +and severely chaste. His beautiful simplicity is just the character to +apprehend the delicate touches of the Master, which he drew to us, without +any ornament or addition. It was as if Mozart had been in spirit in the +instrument, and given us, with all the freshness of creation, the music +that can never lose its bloom. Scharfenberg was in the box with us, Fred. +Rakemann in the next box. I saw Castellan in a private box, and Isaac H. +The evening was glorious. Had you only been there! Yet you will see him +in Boston. Do not fail to write me how he impresses you--that is, +particularly. I cannot misapprehend his power so much as not to feel that +it will seem to you very grand. Observe his manner towards the orchestra, +how Olympian, how supreme, yet with all the gentle grace and tenderness of +power! Good-night. May you ever hear sweet music! + + +VI + +N.Y., _Friday, Dec. 15, 1843._ + +Truly the musical art culminates in our zenith this winter. It gives me +other thoughts than of music only, unfolds to me something more of art, +and I am charmed constantly to see how calmly we receive the great +artists, after the noise of their entry, as the world quietly accepts the +light of stars and swings unastonished on its wonderful way. Ole Bull and +the rest are the scouts we have sent on before us, and they return to tell +us of the Wonderful Land, and bring mementos and captives from the rich +Eldorado of our hopes. That country to which nature points, of which all +art is the flaming beacon, and which the weary voyager home-returning from +fruitless search tells us is in ourselves--not the less far away for that. + +Ole Bull's quiet, rapt manner is the full remembrance of that land which +he has seen, and which he unfolds to us--is always the character and +expression of the deepest insight. Just look at our bill for the week +which ends to-night: Monday, Vieuxtemps; Tuesday, Artot and Damoreau; +Wednesday, Ole Bull, Miss Sperty (the new pianist), and Madame Sphor Zahn; +Thursday, Castellan, Antoquin Brough and Sphor Zahn in the "Stabat Mater," +followed by the "Battle of Waterloo Symphony," by Beethoven; Friday, +Vieuxtemps again! Monday evening I could not hear Vieuxtemps, but went on +Tuesday to hear C. Damoreau and Artot. The former, with the smallest +voice, sings pleasantly from her wonderful cultivation, of which, however, +the technicalities, so to say, are too much obtruded. She shakes through +all her songs, and this power, which would render her plain singing so +sure and pleasing, demands attention for itself, not because it improves +the tone of the singing. Artot is an elegant artist. He plays very finely, +wonderfully; but the greater his execution the more marked appeared to me +the difference between the highest cultivated talent and the supremacy of +Genius. He played difficult music, he shook and warbled and imitated, some +of his tones were very exquisite, but it was all lifeless, the passionless +semblance of beauty. I was as if walking in a Gorgon's ice-palace, with +magnificent, clear crystals, and noble, transparent pillars, and all the +artifice of beauty and comfort, but evermore a deep chill from the lavish +elegance. When he had done, I knew he had done his utmost, that he had +exhausted hope. In him I found none of that depthless background which +genius ever offers. He made sing in my ears the old text, "The things seen +are temporal; the things unseen are eternal." His performance is a thing +seen, not a dim beacon on the outskirts of an unexplored country, wherein +we hear birds singing and rivers flowing, and see the great cloud-shadows +fall upon the hills, where in the dim distance stately palaces are faintly +traced, and the depthless woods fringe unknown seas. Artot's playing +seemed to me like the full flower exhausting the plant; Ole Bull's like a +star shining out of the infinite space. + +Flowers wither, but the stars do not fade. We gather the blossoms with joy +and hurry home; but the stars light us on our way and make our homes +beautiful. Talent has something familiar and social in its impression and +greeting; but Genius receives us with a calm dignity that transfigures +courtesy and complaisance, and makes our relations healthy and grand. The +whole tone of Artot's violin differs from Bull's. I felt they must not be +compared, and so listened delightedly, but with a pale, ghastly joy. When +I heard Ole, I could not sleep. It was like a fire shining out of heaven, +sudden and bright. It kindled within me flames which seek heaven, +disturbed the surface of my soul, evoking spirits out of that depth I did +not know were there, and it was as if a thousand hopes, which were the +substance and object of memory, rose out of their graves and held long +vigil with me in those silent hours. How few of us can keep our balance +when a regal soul dashes by. I presently recover myself, and serve with a +milder and firmer persistence my own nature. The way is made clearer by +these bright lights, universal nature shines fairer that there are so many +single stars; but they must only be stars in my heaven and fires upon my +hearth, nor burn out my heart by inserting themselves in my bosom. + +The next night I went to hear Ole Bull again at the Tabernacle, which +holds 3000 persons. The doors were open at 6, the concert began at 8. At +quarter-past 6 the house was full, and at 7 was jammed, and hundreds went +away. I arrived too late, but was so satisfied at the triumph that I went +gladly home again, pleased to be one who could not hear. + +Last evening I heard the "Stabat." Castellan has a magnificent voice. Does +she not lack passion? She certainly needs cultivation. The symphony was +merely a musical picture of the battle--a battle of Prague for the +orchestra! It begins with a drum, a bugle-call follows; a march--and what +march do you think? "Malbrook." Imagine me, a fervid worshipper of +Beethoven, rushing in the crowd to hear a symphony wherein, with all +orchestral force, the old song, L-a-w, Law, was banged into my ears. I sat +in motionless dismay, while there followed another trumpeting and drumming +and marching and imitations of musketry by some watchman's rattle. Then +came some good passages, which confounded me only the more. Then, "God +save the King," which announced the British victory. Anon followed some +marches, with the occasional bang of the bass drum to "disfigure or +present" the distant cannon; and then there was a pause, and the people +began to get up. I was confounded, looked towards the orchestra, and they +were moving away; and I discovered I had heard the whole--alas! the day. +What it meant, what Beethoven meant by writing it, how he could be so +purely external, how he could so use the orchestra, I cannot comprehend. +Perhaps it was a curious relaxation with him, as artists imitate other +instruments upon their own--perhaps it is a joke--but that it was a sad +disappointment to me admits no perhaps. Since the limitations of life +appear most forcibly to correspondents in limited sheets of paper, let me +bear away abruptly from music. My German progresses finely. I have read +Novalis's poetry, and am just now finishing the "Lehrjahre." I read three +or four hours daily, and am pleased at my progress. Burrill and I have +just finished Johnson's "Elements of Agricultural Chemistry" and Buel's +book. I read to him daily from Bunyan. I am also busy with Beaumont and +Fletcher, Paul's Epistles, and St. Augustine. You will easily imagine that +my whole day is devoted to literature. After dinner, at 5 o'clock, I sally +down Broadway for exercise; and in the evening, if I go to no concert, +usually seek my room and books. To-night, for the first time, I am going +out to a ball at a friend's, the girl of whom you have heard me speak as +singing so well. Cranch I meet very rarely. Have been only once to see +him. W.H. Channing do not yet know. At his meeting I see Isaac and C.P. +Cranch, and Rufus Dawes, and Parke Godwin, William Chace, and a host of +the unconverted and heretical. Him I do not yet know personally, nor +Vathek. His enthusiastic manner, and the tranquil fervor of his character, +charm me very much. + +I find that I do not care to go after people. Perhaps I have been rather +too much with them; at all events, I will go to see none for curiosity. +Isaac is my good friend, and passed Sunday P.M. in my room. We spoke of +the church and society, and all topics that do so excite the youthful +mind. I must break short off to dress for my party. I shall speak to you +again before you know that I have been. + +Saturday. To-day I have finished the "Lehrjahre." It is very calm and +wise. It is full of Goethe, and therefore leaves behind in its impression +that almost indefinite want which his character leaves, a want apparently +readily designated. Yet to say his intellect was disproportionately +developed leaves us in doubt whether a pure natural growth of the moral +nature would have harmonized with his peculiar manifestation of intellect. +He is to me as a blind God, made wise by laborious experience, not +perpetual sight. He is at least too large for the tip of a letter. + +What do you read, or don't you read? Sunday. To-day I heard a fine sermon +from W.H. Channing. There I met Isaac and C.P. Cranch. Walked home with +the latter, who during the week had heard Ole Bull. I suppose he will +write you of it. Prof. Adam, from Northampton, was there. At our church, a +few Sundays since, I saw Mrs. Delano, late Kate Lyman, and her sister +Susan. The latter was beautiful. She seemed like a pure, passionless +saint. Had I been in a Catholic church I had imagined her to have been +some holy being, incarnated by her deep sympathy with the worshippers. I +hardly saw her, just enough to receive a poetic impression. + +How little I have said! My life is very quiet, yet very full. Your letters +are very grateful to me. One dares trust so much more to paper than to +conversation. Friends living intimately learn of each other from tones and +glances, not by conversation. Friends meet intellectually in words, lovers +heartfully in words. + +Macready has gone and I did not see him; he played nothing of Shakespeare. +Shall I direct to Brook Farm or Boston? More anon. Yrs ever, + +G.W.C. + + +VII + +NEW YORK, _Friday, Dec. 22, '43._ + +A merry Christmas to you, and to all Christian souls. How brave goes the +year to its setting! These calm, cold days impress me like the fine +characters of history and the elder time, inspired with a generous wisdom, +and prophesying what shall be the newest and best word of hope in our day. +The season embraces and surpasses those old men, even the finest. To-day, +as I walked, the magnificence of the closing year, so steadfast and sure, +sparing no sunshine nor rain, passing quietly out to be renewed nevermore, +quite reproved the solemn martyrdoms of men, upon which we hang our hopes. + +Nature is great that she does not suffer us to define her influence upon +ourselves. Like all greatness, she suggests to us beauty and grace, not as +attributes of hers, but fair buds and flowers of the soul. Therefore, in +the full presence of nature, the grandest deeds seem harmonious and the +wisdom of Plato, and actions whose greatness is the centre, not the utmost +compression, of our life are harmonious and symmetrical. To the Greeks and +Jews the Gospel is blindness and a stumbling-block, but joy and peace to +the elect. + +Nothing is so stern and lofty a cordial to me as this severe +inscrutability of nature. I must obey or die, and dying is no help to me, +for the spirit that rules now rules evermore. How like a god sits she +brooding over the world, announcing her laws by blows and knocks, by +agonies and convulsions, by the mouths of wise men, affirming that as the +sowing so also is the harvest. And there is no alleviation, no palliation. +She heeds no prayers, no sighs; those who fall must raise themselves; the +sick must of their own force recover or perish. When thus she has set us +upon our legs everything works for us, and the sun and moon are great +lamps for our enlightenment, and men and women leaves of a wondrous book. +Then, imperceptibly to us, in these snows and blossoms and fruits annually +all history is rewritten, and the honest man who knows nothing of Greece +and Rome derives from the swelling trees and the bending sky the same +subtle infusion of heroism and nobility that is the vitality of history. +The vice of our mode of education is that we do not regard life from an +eternal point. We want magnanimity and truth, not the names of those who +have been magnanimous and true; and I see not why nature to-day does not +offer to me all the grandeur of character that has illustrated any period. +Men and nature and art all seek to say the same thing. Could we search +deeply enough, I doubt not we should find all matter to be one substance; +and could we appreciate the worth of every art and every landscape and +man, they would be identical. As I am a better man, the more soluble is +the great outspreading riddle of nature, and the more distinct and full +the delicate grace of art. As an old, quaint divine said of fate and +free-will, they are two converging lines which of necessity must somewhere +unite, though our human vision does not see the point; so all mysteries +are radii, and could we follow one implicitly, then we have found the +centre of all. Therefore the best critic of art is the man whose life has +been hid with God in nature; and therefore the triumph of art is complete +when birds peck at the grapes. + +I felt this yesterday while looking at Cole's paintings. Each picture of +"The Voyage of Life" impressed me somewhat as the voyage itself does. +Especially the cold, subdued tone of the last, which suggests infinity by +the tone merely. Perhaps you have not seen them, and will suffer a brief +account. The pictures are four. The first represents a boat of golden prow +and sides wrought into the images of the hours, bearing an infant in a bed +of roses, and issuing from a dim cave in a dark, indefinable mountain, and +hasting down a flower-crowned stream. The second shows the babe grown to +manhood, and, assuming himself the guidance, leaves the guardian spirit +upon the bank, and upon a wider stream, piercing a wider prospect, sails +away, allured by a dim cloud-castle which seems to hang over the river, +yet from which the stream turns. The next shows him dashing along amid +clouds and whirlpools and tempests, without rudder or compass, towards +threatening rocks, yet serenely, with clasped hands, abiding the issue. In +the last, grown to old age, he sails forth upon a fathomless, shoreless +sea, leaving behind all rocks and tempests, while the guardian angel again +at the helm points to regions of cloudless day. Though very beautiful of +themselves, they suggested to me grander pictures of this grandest theme, +and so interested me very much. + +Truly there is nothing final; all is suggestive. When, entranced in summer +woods, we demand that nature lend our homes somewhat of her beauty, she +replies to us that beauty is so subtle, residing not in the green of this +leaf nor in the curve of that branch, and not in the whole, but in the +soul that contemplates it, that of herself she has none, and that we her +lovers have invested her with such golden charms. The universal wish to +realize is only typified by the grasping gain. Most men live to +acknowledge in heart the superiority of young dreams over old possessions; +and the world feels that in the unshrinking aspirations of the youth lies +the hope of the world. That is the lightning that purifies the dense +atmosphere, and, glancing for an instant, reveals the keenest light known +to men. So the old year sings to me as it goes crowned with crystals and +snow-drops to its end. Without shrinking, without sorrow, it folds its +white garment around unwithered limbs, and submits gracefully to the past. +Nature regards it with that calm face whereon no emotions are written, but +a wise serenity forever sits. This year, too, is to many lonely hearts a +redeemer; and no heavens will be darkly clouded when it is over, but still +stars will shine unsurprised. Pale scholars in midnight vigils, golden +gayety wreathing the hours with flowers and gems, unbending sorrow +pressing heavy seals upon yielding wretchedness, it will steal surely from +all these, and on the morrow be a colorless ghost in the distant past. Its +constancy will secure our immortality. The grandeur of the year may be the +strength of our character; and as the East receives it, we may enter the +inscrutable future reverently and with folded hands. + +Sunday. I am going to F. Rakemann's to pass the afternoon and give him +this for you. He proposes to pass a week in Boston. I have heard Wallace +during the week. He has great talent; but I had heard Ole Bull, and +Wallace's violin-playing was only good. What think you of Vieuxtemps, who, +I see, is in Boston? Shall you not send Knoop hither? So many things I +would say! It is wiser to say nothing. Remember me to my West Roxbury +friends, Mrs. Russell and Mrs. Shaw and their spouses. + +Ever your friend, + +G.W.C. + + +VIII + +N.Y., _Thursday, January 18, '44._ + +I have not yet answered your letter by W.H. Channing in words, though I +have said a great deal to you that you have not heard. What an interrupter +of conversation is this absence! Neither have I told you of my Vieuxtemps +experience, nor shall I close my letter without speaking of Knoop, who by +the gods' favor concerts to-night. Your letter by W.H. Channing +crystallized a resolution which has been quiet in me for the winter, so +still that it needed only a powerful jerk to induce crystallization at +once. So the day or two succeeding its receipt found me busy in expressing +some thoughts about reform and association which I meant for _The +Present_. But the necessity for expression seems to have been satisfied +without publication. The essay remains as quietly in my portfolio as did +the idea in my mind. So it was with an article on Ole Bull that I wrote +some weeks since for the _Tribune_. The need seems to give the thought +expression and form, whether it then lay still or fly abroad upon paper +wings. Besides, printing does give a dignity to thoughts that the author +should feel that they deserve, a permanency too. The newspaper that +escapes the turmoil and tear and dust of years bears the same aspect as +all its fellows of the same date that were ushered into the morning +parlors with it; and so some commentator on Ole Bull and Vieuxtemps or +what not shall run down to the lower generations more noiselessly, yet as +certainly, as Shakespeare and Plato. There is a singular pleasure, too, in +publishing what nobody thinks is yours. It is addressing the world not as +Geo. Curtis, but as some distinguished messenger, the mystery of whom is a +charm, if nothing more. Yet unfortunate me! I could never maintain the +secret long. Is that from pride or because you cannot endure to see men go +wrong, if you can help them? When Charles Dana came running to me with +what he thought Emerson's poem, how could I help saying, "It is mine." In +that case, at least, it was sympathy for Emerson's reputation that +prompted the speech. + +There is something that pleases me much in the united works of young +authors. Sands and who? in our country published "Yamoyden" and some other +poems together. C. Lamb and Lloyd (was not Coleridge one?) published some +small verses in company. There is a sort of meanness in it, too, as if +they should say, "Here we come, two scribblers, not worthy singly to +attract your attention, but together making out something worth your +money." After all, a single failure may be better than a double +respectability. Imagine the united literary works of Dwight and Curtis +rotting in an odd drawer of Ticknor's or James Munroe's; could we ever +look each other in the face again? What a still, perpetual suspicion there +would be that the one swamped the other. + +Do you not mean some day to gather your musical essays together, like a +whorl of leaves, and suffer them to expand into a book, though not with +the cream--colored calyx that Ticknor affects, I beg. Nay, might you not +make some arrangements with Greeley to publish them here, in a cheap way, +if you would make money, for those who valued them would of course obtain +more durable copies. If not, and you would think dignity compromitted, +some of the regular publishers might be diplomatized with. They would make +an unique work. You know we have nothing similar in American literature, +no book of artistic criticism, have we? Why will you not think of it, if +you have not done so? And what so poor a man as Hamlet is may do, you +shall command. How recreant am I to this noble art, that listen only and +celebrate with feeble voice its charms. + +Tuesday evening, at a small musical party, I heard Euphrasia Borghese +sing, whom you may have heard, and who is to be Prima Donna at the new +Opera-house, which opens on the 25th or 2eth of the present month. They +begin with the "Puritani." It will be altogether devoted to Italian music, +I suppose, from the tendency of the New York taste and the collection of +musicians. + +I heard Vieuxtemps both times he played after his return. I was very much +delighted; he was so modest and composed and refined. His playing is as +wonderful as Ole Bull's, but not so fascinating; his compositions more +contemplative and regular, not so wild and throbbing with the irregular +pulsations of unsatisfied genius, as are Ole Bull's. I felt no disposition +to compare, feeling how different they were. I thanked God when I came +away that no one man has sole power, but that many may serve in this +boundless temple, each in its various offices. Yet in my memory is Ole +Bull the only man who has stirred me up as genius always must. When I +heard Vieuxtemps, I knew what to anticipate; the grandeur of the +instrumental and the human possibility upon it had been revealed to me, +therefore he could not surprise me, and for that revelation I am indebted +to Ole Bull. Vieuxtemps prolonged the echo of the deep tone that had been +sounded into my spiritual ear. I must say that the first was grandest to +me, and remains so. + +I passed Sunday P.M. with Rakemann; he played all the time, told me of you +and Boston and his love for it, asked me if I had heard more of the +concerts you mentioned. Timm on Monday played me the "Invitation to the +W." very beautifully, beside some Mazurkas of Chopin, also the "Egmont" +overture grandly. Saturday evening the second Philharmonic, the "Jupiter +Symphony," and some Septuats, etc. It was not a good concert. Castellan +sang for the last time. Not a note of Beethoven! Yesterday afternoon and +evening I passed with Josephine Maman, who plays and sings finely. We had +some of Beethoven, the "Pathetique," etc., and some songs of Schubert, +which I had never heard. A singular girl, but delightful to me. My musical +appetite has been well appeased; can it ever be satisfied? To-night, +Knoop, for whom I have left little space, especially as I find my paper is +torn. + +Evening. Have just come from Knoop's. It was beautiful to see the worthy +mate of such men as Ole Bull and Vieuxtemps. From what you and others had +told me, I knew I should like him. So calm and grand. Yet when I left the +room a mournful feeling came over me, that so he must leave and be heard +no more. Beethoven is not done when he is dead, nor Raphael nor +Shakespeare; but for him whose glory is action, which leaves no trace but +upon the heart, what shall remain? The notes he may transcribe for others, +but the charm of the musical artist lies not therein; it is a personal +effluence; how shall we measure it? I felt to-night that he played not for +an audience, but to the private heart. He was singing to me his deep +searching thought, his star-lost aspiration. Indeed, he is worthy to close +the brilliant winter; a calm planet fading from us, but with a mild, +steady lustre that condemns sorrow. How invisible, insensibly proceeds his +fame! My character must needs be strengthened and mellowed by such men, +and so my influence upon others is moulded, till perhaps it meets him +again. Surrounded by these intimate relations, we cannot touch one but all +thrill. In such a subtle shrine is the influence of genius fitly embalmed +and there worshipped. How grand an era in my life, when through a winter I +may justly use the word genius many times! + +Good-night! + +G.W.C. + +I am 24! Will you write me the numbers of the "Tempest" sonata, and some +others that I liked particularly? The op. 14, No. 2, I have got, and Timm +played it to me on Monday. How inexorable is this space, that will not let +me crowd in that I am ever your friend, + +G.W.C. + + +IX + +N.Y., _Sunday evening, Feb. 25, '44._ + +Do you remember ever to have read a novel called "The Collegians?" A work +of great interest, and displaying great dramatic power. I was always +anxious to know the author, and chance has thrown his name and history in +my way. It was Gerald Griffin, an Irishman of genius, who lived the varied +life of a professed literary man. Desirous of having his dramas accepted +at the London theatres, and finding no one to favor him. Too noble to be +dependent, and going days without food. In 183ty something he published, +"Gisippus," a tragedy, famed of the greatest merit. Finally he became +weary of his literary life, and entered an Irish convent, where, within +two or three years, he died. His father's family in greater part have +removed to America, and his elder brother, a physician of note, has +recently published his memoirs, the reviews of which I have happened to +meet. The reviews say the usual thing of genius, that his writings were +full of promise, and that he might have achieved greatly had he lived. +Must not this be always a complaint of genius? Its being, not its +expression, has the charm which captivates. The dramas are the least part +of Shakespeare, and one would give more to have known him than to study +them forever. It must seem to us promising, till we have entered into the +fulness of its spirit. The necessity of expressing compromises the dignity +of being. God is more pleasing to thought as self-contemplation, rather +than creation. Expression is degradation to us, not to the genius. That +informs everything with its complete Loveliness. But we who must seek in +the expression for it, miss its beauty. Critics complain of Tennyson that +he writes no epic, as if all poets must do the same thing. "Comus" is as +Miltonic as the "Paradise Lost;" and the little songs of Shakespeare as +wide and fresh as the dramas. The diamond is no less wonderful than the +world. + +Recently my reading has led me into the old English poetry. A friend gave +me a card to the Society Library, the largest in the city; and I have +found much good browsing in those fields. I have found "Amadis de Gaul" +among the rest, and the complete works of Carew, Suckling, Drayton, +Drummond, etc. It has led me to wish some more intimate knowledge of +English history, to which I must turn. How imperceptibly and surely spread +out these meadows where the rare flowers bloom! There is no end to these +threads which place themselves in our hand, and which lead every man of +the world his different way. So we sail on through the blue spaces, +separate as stars. + +And you, they tell me, have joined the association. I supposed you were +making some move, and thought this might be it. I am glad that you do so +so heartily, and more glad that I can say so. After all, the defiance +offered us by the varied positions of our friends is what life needs. Each +dissimilar act of my friend, while it does not sever him from me, throws +me more sternly upon myself. Can we not make our friendship so fine that +it shall be only a sympathy of thought, and let the expression differ, and +court it to differ? This ray of the sunlight falls upon summer woods, that +sinks into the wintry sea, yet are they brothers. The severe loneliness +that has sun and moon in its bosom invites us as the vigorous health of +the soul. The beautiful isolation of the rose in its own fragrance is +self-sufficient. + +Charles wrote Burrill a manly letter during the week. The Arcadian beauty +of the place is lost to me, and would have been lost, had there been no +change. Seen from this city life, you cannot think how fair it seems. So +calm a congregation of devoted men and true women performing their +perpetual service to the Idea of their lives, and clothed always in white +garments. Though you change your ritual, I feel your hope is unchanged; +and though it seems to me less beautiful than the one you leave, it is +otherwise to you. There was a mild grace about our former life that no +system attains. The unity in variety bound us very closely together. I +doubt if we shall be again among you, as I had hoped. I cannot, in +thought, lose my hold upon the place without pain not to be spoken of. On +the whole, I cannot say, even to you, just what I would about it. It will +leak out from the pores of my hands before we have done with each other. + +I hear no music here now, except Timm and Rakemann. Charlotte Dana is +here; I have heard her only once. The opera is a wretched affair. +By-the-by, I gave W.H. Channing an article for _The Present_, very short, +upon music and Ole Bull. If he publishes it, it will not be new to you, +though I do not remember if I have talked with you about all at which it +hints. I await orders and manuscripts about the French stories; though you +are very busy, all of you, just now, perhaps too much so for that +business. The rest stands adjourned. Give my love to friends. Yrs ever, + +G.W.C. + +Will you say to C. Dana that I would like to come for a short visit--at +least, before going elsewhere; and that as soon as possible, say in a +week. Can I come? If not, ask him to say when. Yours, + +J. Burrill Curtis. + +_Feb'y 27._ + + +X + +NEW YORK, _March 3, 1844._ + +Your letter was very grateful to me. I had supposed the silence would be +broken by some music burst of devotion, and that all friends would be +dearer to you the more imperative the call upon your strength to battle +for the Ideal. It half reproved me for the meagre sheet the same day +brought to your hand. And yet could we see how all the forces of heaven +and earth unite to shape the particle that floats idly by us, we should +never see meagreness more. + +I do not think (and what a heresy!) that your life has found more than an +object, not yet a centre. The new order will systematize your course; but +I do not see that it aids your journey. Is it not the deeper insight you +constantly gain into music which explains the social economy you adopt, +and not the economy the music? One fine symphony or song leads all reforms +captive, as the grand old paintings in St. Peter's completely ignore all +sects. Association will only interpret music so far as it is a pure art, +as poetry and sculpture and painting explain each other. But necessarily +Brook Farm, association and all, do not regard it artistically, but +charitably. It regenerates the world with them because it does tangible +good, not because it refines. We must view all pursuits as arts before we +can accomplish. + +With respect to association as a means of reform, I have seen no reason to +change my view. Though, like the monastic, a life of devotion, to severe +criticism it offers a selfish and an unheroic aspect. When your letter +first spoke of your personal interest in the movement, I had written you a +long statement of my thought, which I did not send, and then partly spun +into an article for _The Present_, which I did not entirely finish. It was +only a strong statement of Individualism, which would not be new to you, +perhaps, and the essential reason of which could not be readily treated. +What we call union seems to me only a name for a phase of individual +action. I live only for myself; and in proportion to my own growth, so I +benefit others. As Fourier seems to me to have postponed his life, in +finding out how to live, so I often felt it was with Mr. Ripley. Besides, +I feel that our evils are entirely individual, not social. What is society +but the shadow of the single men behind it. That there is a slave on my +plantation or a servant in my kitchen is no evil; but that the slave and +servant should be unwilling to be so, that is the difficulty. The weary +and the worn do not ask of me an asylum, but aid. The need of the most +oppressed man is strength to endure, not means of escape. The slave +toiling in the Southern heats is a nobler aspect of thought than the freed +black upon the shore of England. That is just now the point which pains me +in association, its lack of heroism. Reform is purification, forming anew, +not forming again. Love, like genius, uses the means that are, and the +opportunities of to-day. If paints are wanting, it draws charcoal heads +with Michael Angelo. These crooked features of society we cannot rend and +twist into a Roman outline and grace; but they may be animated with a soul +that will utterly shame our carved and painted faces. A noble man purges +these present relations, and does not ask beautiful houses and landscapes +and appliances to make life beautiful. In Wall Street he gives another +significance to trade; in the City Hall he justifies its erection; in the +churches he interprets to themselves the weekly assembly of citizens. He +uses the pen with which, just now, the coal-man scrawled his bill, and +turns off an epic with the fife that in the band so sadly pierced our +ears. He moves our trudging lives to the beauties of golden measures. He +laughs heartily at our absorbing charities and meetings, upon which we +waste our health and grow thin. He answers our distressing plea for the +rights of the oppressed, and the "all-men-born-to-be-free-and-equal" with +a smiling strength, which assures us therein lies the wealth and the +equality which we are trying to manufacture out of such materials as +association, organization of society, copartnership, no wages, and the +like. While this may be done, why should we retire from the field behind +the walls which you offer? Let us die battling or victorious. And this, +true for me and you, is true to the uttermost. The love which alone can +make your Phalanx beautiful, also renders it unnecessary. You may insure +food and lodgings to the starving beggar, I do not see that strength is +afforded to the man. Moreover, a stern divine justice ordains that each +man stand where he stands, and do his utmost. Retreat, if you will, behind +this prospect of comfortable living, but you do so at a sacrifice of +strength. Your food must be eternal, for your life is so. I do not feel +that the weary man outworn by toil needs a fine house and books and +culture and free air; he needs to feel that his position, also, is as good +as these. When he has, by a full recognition of that, earned the right to +come to you, then his faith is deeper than the walls of association, and +the desolate cellar is a cheerful room for his shining lore. Men do not +want opportunities, they do not want to start fair, they do not want to +reach the same goal; they want only perfect submission. The gospel now to +be preached is not, "Away with me to the land where the fields are fair +and the waters flow," but, "Here in your penury, while the rich go idly by +and scoff, and the chariot wheels choke you with dust, make here your +golden age." + + "Who cannot on his own bed sweetly sleep, + Can on another's hardly rest." + +So sings the saintly George Herbert, no new thought in these days of ours. + +The effect of a residence at the Farm, I imagine, was not greater +willingness to serve in the kitchen, and so particularly assert that labor +was divine; but discontent that there was such a place as a kitchen. And, +however aimless life there seemed to be, it was an aimlessness of the +general, not of the individual life. Its beauty faded suddenly if I +remembered that it was a society for special ends, though those ends were +very noble. In the midst of busy trades and bustling commerce, it was a +congregation of calm scholars and poets, cherishing the ideal and the true +in each other's hearts, dedicate to a healthy and vigorous life. As an +association it needed a stricter system to insure success; and since it +had not the means to justify its mild life, it necessarily grew to this. +As reformers, you are now certainly more active, and may promise +yourselves heaven's reward for that. That impossibility of severance from +the world, of which you speak, I liked, though I did not like that there +should be such a protest against the world by those who were somewhat +subject to it. This was not my first feeling. When I went, it seemed as if +all hope had died from the race, as if the return to simplicity and beauty +lay through the woods and fields, and was to be a march of men whose very +habits and personal appearance should wear a sign of the coming grace. The +longer I stayed, the more surely that thought vanished. I had +unconsciously been devoted to the circumstance, while I had earnestly +denied its value. Gradually I perceived that only as a man grew deeper and +broader could he wear the coat and submit to the etiquette and obey the +laws which society demands. Now I feel that no new order is demanded, but +that the universe is plastic to the pious hand. + +Besides, it seems to me that reform becomes atheistic the moment it is +organized. For it aims, really, at that which conservatism represents. The +merit of the reformer is his sincerity, not his busy effort to emancipate +the slaves or to raise the drunkards. And the deeper his sincerity the +more deeply grounded seems to him the order he holds to be so corrupt. God +always weighs down the Devil. Therefore the church is not a collection of +puzzling priests and deceived people, but the representative, now as much +as ever, of the religious sentiment. A pious man needs no new church or +ritual. The Catholic is not too formal nor the Quaker too plain. If he +complains of these, and build another temple and construct a new service, +it is not the satisfaction which piety would have. Luther's protest was +that of the intellect against the supremacy of sentiment. So was +Unitarianism, and now we do not seek in the Boston churches for the +profound pietists. Does not our present experience show that as fast as we +are emancipated from morality and the dominance of the intellect, we +revert to the older rituals, if we need any. And if we have no need, the +piety can so fully inform them, that we seek no other. The transcendental +is a spiritual movement. It is the effort to regain the lost equilibrium +between the intellect and the soul, between morals and piety. Therefore, +put of its ranks come Catholics and Calvinists and mystics, and those who +continue the reform movement commenced by Luther; and, proceeding at +intervals down the stream of history, are the Rationalists. There is +indeed a latent movement, badly represented by these reforms, and that is +the constant perception of the supremacy of the Individual. But the +stronger the feet become the more delicate may be the movements. The more +strictly individual I am, the more certainly I am bound to all others. I +can reach other men only through myself. So far as you have need of +association you are injured by it. + +You will gather what I think from such hints as these. I recognize the +worth of the movement, as I do of all sincere action. Other reasons must +bind me peculiarly to the particular me at Brook Farm. "Think not of any +severance of our loves," though we should not meet immediately. Burrill +will see if there is any such place as we wish about you. I have not much +hope of his success. The scent of the roses will not depart, though the +many are scattered. I hardly hope to say directly how very beautiful it +lies in my memory. What a heart-fresco it has become! All the dignity, the +strength, the devotion will be preserved by you; that graceful +"aimlessness" comes no more. And yet that was necessary. Long before I +knew of the changes I perceived that the growth of the place would +overshadow the spots where the sunlight had lain so softly and long. We +must still regret the waywardness of the child, though the man is active +and victorious; and the delicate odor of the blossom is unrivalled by the +juicy taste of the fruit. The one implies necessity; the other a +self-obedient impulse. You see I do not forget it was a child; but the +philosopher has no better playfellow. + +I wish this was me instead of my letter, for a warm grasp of the hand +might say more than all these words. Yr friend, + +G.W.C. + + +XI + +NEW YORK, _March 27, 1844._ + +At last I imagine our summer destiny is fixed. This morning Burrill +received a reply from Emerson informing us of a promising place near +Concord. The farmer's name being Captain Nathaniel Barrett, of pleasant +family and situation, and a farm on which more farm work than usual is +done. Altogether the prospect is very alluring and satisfactory; and I +have little doubt of our acceptance of the situation. We shall not then be +very far removed from you; and at some AEsthetical tea or Transcendental +club or Poet's assembly meet you, perhaps, and other Brook Farmers. At all +events, we shall breathe pretty much the same atmosphere as before, and +understand more fully the complete pivacy of the country life. + +Burrill brought pleasant accounts of your appearance at Brook Farm. The +summer shall not pass without my looking in upon you, though only for an +hour. That time will suffice to show me the unaltered beauty of aspect, +though days would be scarce to express all that they suggested. + +Emerson writes that there is a piano and music at the farm mentioned. I +have no faith in pianos under such circumstances; but it shows a taste, a +hope, a capability, possibly it is equal to all spiritual significances +except music! which want in a piano may be termed a deficiency. + +I have become acquainted with a fine amateur, a niece of Dr. Channing's, +name Gibbs. She is yet young, not more than 17, but plays with great grace +and beauty. She played me one of Mendelssohn's songs, translated by Liszt, +a beautiful piece, one of F.R.'s, and spoke more sensibly of music than +any girl I have met. By-the-way, yesterday I bought the January number of +the _Democratic Review_ to read Mrs. Fanny Kemble Butler's review of +Tennyson, when, to my great surprise, I found your "Haydn." O'Sullivan I +have met a great deal, but made no acquaintance. The Tennyson review is +very fine. I think she understands him well. Perhaps she is too masculine +a woman to judge correctly his delicacy; but she does the whole thing +well. + +Cranch has just painted a scene from the "Lady of Shalott," the scene-- + + "In among the bearded barley, + The reaping late and early," etc.-- + +represents two reapers standing with sickles among the grain, and turning +intently towards the four "gray walls and four gray towers which overlook +a space of flowers" in an island covered with foliage to the water, and +lying in the midst of the stream. The criticism upon the picture is +obvious; if Cranch is as painter what Tennyson is as poet, it is good--if +not, it is bad. What do you think? When a man illustrates a poem he is +pledged by the poem, hence the absurdity of Martyn's drawings from the +"Paradise Lost," and the various pictures of Belshazzar's feast. Only the +Madonnas of the greatest painters are satisfactory. But I shall not +abandon myself to the tracking of these mysteries of art. + +I have been reading Goethe's "Tasso." Now I am at the "Sorrows of +Werther." I am wonderfully impressed with his dramatic power. The +"Egmont," "Iphigenia," and "Tasso" are grander than anything I know in +modern literature, than anything else of his which I have read. The serene +simplicity of the "Iphigenia" is like a keen blast of ocean air. It stands +like a Grecian temple, but in the moonlight. Is not that because, as Fanny +Kemble says, and so many have thought, he was a Heathen? He did not enter +into the state called the Christian. He served gods, not a God; and had it +been otherwise this tragedy had been full-bathed in sunlight. And yet I +hardly dare to say anything decidedly of such a man. I shall condemn +myself a little while hence if I do. + +Let me hear from you before I leave New York, which will be in two or +three weeks. I shall not leave all my good friends, and all the fine music +here, without a pang. But if we stop for pangs! Will you send me the +number of the "Mondschein," and the "Tempest" sonata? + +Yr friend, + +G.W. CURTIS. + + +XII + +N.Y., _Monday morning, April 8th, 1844._ + +The last few days have been like glimpses of Brook Farm, seeing so +constantly Mr. Ripley, and Charles, and Liszt, and Isaac, and Georgiana, +and Margaret Fuller. The last three days of the past week were occupied by +the sessions of the Convention, about which there was no enthusiasm, but +an air of quiet resolution which always precedes success. To be sure, the +success, to me, is the constant hope in humanity that inspires them, the +sure, glowing prophecies of paradise and heaven, being individual not +general prophecies, and announcing the advent in their own hearts and +lives of the feet beautiful of old upon the mountains. In comparison with +this what was done, and what was doing, lost much of its greatness. Leave +to Albert Brisbane, and _id omne genus_, these practical etchings and +phalansteries; but let us serve the gods without bell or candle. Have +these men, with all their faith and love, not yet full confidence in love? +Is that not strong enough to sway all institutions that are, and cause to +overflow with life? does that ask houses and lands to express its power? +does it not ride supreme over the abounding selfishness of the world, and +so raise men from their sorrow and degradation, or so inspire them that +their hovels are good enough for them? + +But all difference of thought vanished before the profound, sincere +eloquence of these men. Last night, at W.H. Channing's church, the room +was full, and the risen Lord Jesus might have smiled upon a worthy +worship. From all sections were gathered in that small room men led by the +same high thought, and in the light of that thought joining hearts and +hands, unknown to each other, never to be seen again, and in the early +dawn setting forth with hard hands and stout hearts to hew down the trees +which shall be wrought into the stately dwellings for those who come after +in the day. So knelt the devoted Pilgrims upon the sands of Holland, and +embarked upon that doubtful sea. They fought and perished; their homes +were pierced with the Indian's bullet and flames of fire; the solitude of +stern forests scared not their hearts, and we follow now and live in +peace. It was something to have felt and seen such heroism. + +The meetings of the convention were made interesting by some speeches of +W.H. Channing. His fervor kindles the sympathy of all who listen. I do +not think he is a man of great intellect; his views of society are not +always correct. He speaks very often as an infidel-in-the-capability- +of-men might speak. He is fanatical, as all who perceive by the heart and +not the head are, as deeply pious men are apt to be. But I never heard so +eloquent a man, one who commanded attention and sympathy, not by his words +or thoughts, but the religion that lay far below them. It is a warm, +fragrant, southern wind at which the heart leaps, not the pure, cold, +ocean air which braces the frame. Between him and some whom I have heard +is the same difference as between Goethe and Novalis. The one a June +meadow, with flower-scents and cloud-shadows and the soft, sultry music of +humming-bees and singing-birds, with clear skies bending over; a deep sea +the other, whereon sail stately ships, wafted by health-bearing breezes, +in whose waters the sick gain strength, in whose soundless depths the +coral and the precious stones repose forever, which supplies the clouds +whose shadow makes the meadow beautiful. + +Indeed, how glorious is the range and variety of character among which we +move. Though the stars differ in glory they all make the sky fair, and do +not clash in their revolutions. That dissimilarity is the secret of +friendship, which educates to stand alone. Indeed--to make a most +heretical conclusion--the race exists to teach me to live without it. My +friend, God has no need of creatures, but he is not less nearly bound to +them. + +I send you the final number of _The Present_. You will see my article, "a +poor thing, but mine own." To you it will be nothing new. It seems to me I +have used some of the same sentences in speaking to you. + +_The Dial_ stops. Is it not like the going out of a star? Its place was so +unique in our literature! All who wrote and sang for it were clothed in +white garments; and the work itself so calm and collected, though +springing from the same undismayed hope which fathers all our best +reforms. But the intellectual worth of the time will be told in other +ways, though _The Dial_ no longer reports the progress of the day. + +On Friday we leave for Boston. I do not know precisely if we shall go +immediately to Concord, for we are performing at the same time a duty of +affection in accompanying to Mount Auburn the body of an uncle. We may +possibly be detained in Boston until the following Monday, in which case I +shall not fail to come out and see you. + +So endeth my New York correspondence. + +Yours truly and ever, + +G.W. CURTIS. + +MUSIC AND OLE BULL + +We know little of the art of music; though our concerts are crowded, and +the names of the composers familiar. But our reverence to the Masters in +art is like the reverence for the Bible, not a hearty one. A late musical +reviewer well says, that the admiration of the Parisians for Beethoven is +a conceit. That calculation answers for our meridian. Slight Italian +scholars are eloquent in their admiration of Dante, but the depths and +majesty of his poem are explored by few. The dullest may recognize the +beauty of feature, but the soul which inspires quite eludes them. During +the performance of a symphony the audience smile and shake when the airs +float out of the orchestra, not observing that they are the +breathing-places, the relaxation of the composer. Every one who can play +can compose tunes, but to the lover of the art they yield no greater +pleasure than the rhymes of a poem. Often the grandest passages are most +melodious, as in poems the greatest thought suggests the happiest +expression. Tune and song occupy a distinct portion of the realm of music. +They are _attaches_ to the royal court. Perhaps the finest music is allied +to verse, but if it be a true marriage, the music comprehends the whole. +No artist would hear the words of one of Handel's or Haydn's choral +hosannas. The words are the translation, but the scholar will not accept +that. + +Music is an art distinct and self-sufficient. It represents the harmony of +that interior truth which all art seeks to reveal, and whose beauty and +grace appear in painting and sculpture. The interpreters of that harmony +are sounds, which are related to music as colors to painting, and the +fullest expression is given to them by instrumental combination. The human +voice in respect of the art is valuable as an instrument, and in +suppleness may exceed mechanical contrivances; wherefore one readily +understands why a mighty chorus is introduced in the finale of the +grandest symphony, that the whole effect may be duly crowned, and the +appeal to the heart be assured by the union of human sounds. But with such +an effect words have nothing to do. The charm of the foreign opera to us +Americans is, that the full music of the Masters is received with +syllables meaning to us no more than the fa-sol-la of the gamut. The +reason of this is very evident. If the poetry be good it has a rhythm and +cadence of its own which resembles music, but in respect of art belongs to +poetry and not to music. Arbitrarily united with melody the words obtrude +a meaning which the music may not suggest, though the capacity of fine +music is equal to any words. The beauty of Schubert's songs is their +completeness. They are lyrics, and the words are only an addition. Those +who heard Rakemann play the translated serenade will remember that the +instrumentation produced the whole effect of the song. If the music be +fine, it gives all the sentiment of the words in its own way. It is like +painting a statue to unite them. Sometimes, indeed, one feels that both +are written from the same mood in the grandest minds. The mysterious +charms of Goethe's song of Mignon, to which Beethoven wrote the music, is +that the song is the expression of the same awe-struck yearning which +wails and thunders through the music of the master. In the melody alone +all the wild vagueness and dim aspiration of the song are manifest, and +only because the union is perfect is the impression uniform. Should +Wilhelm Meister be lost to literature the blossom of Mignon's life would +still bloom in the music. + +The same necessity which divided art into the arts ordains their practical +separation. Because they are divisions of one their impression is similar. +They work to the same end, but each has a way. To complete the harmony, +the soprano, and the tenor, and the bass, must all strictly observe their +parts. So must the arts. It is a mournful degradation when the composer +would make his sounds, colors, as those who heard the battle of Waterloo +symphony will not soon forget. Without his interference, the relation +between his art and the rest will be preserved. In his symphony he is the +spiritual significance of the Apollo and the Iliad; and the graceful, +romantic songs of Mozart are in the drops of poetry scattered upon the old +drama, and in the infinite, tender beauty of Raphael's pictures. Yet this +is a likeness as between woods and waters, and with which we have nothing +to do. + +If a reply be sought to the question, why the grandest compositions of +this art are more generally impressive than the efforts of the pure +science, it may be reached in various ways. The old masters, doubtless, +obeyed an unconscious instinct in joining words to their music. Then, as +now, the art was in its young years, and the words served as a dictionary +to the student. Merely as a dictionary, for the deep significance of the +thing could not be apprehended until that was thrown aside, and the +scholar read and spoke and lived in that high language as in his daily +speech. The best American critic of the art says, speaking of the Messiah, +"Feeling that it was time now to do something more worthy his genius, and +more fitting his years, as he was getting old, he resolved to draw from +all the sources of his art, and put forth all his power, to make an +eloquent exposition of his faith in music, and interpret the Bible thus to +the hearts of all men." And yet, hitherto, have not the sublime fragments +he culled from the Bible served as expositors of the Oratorio? The Messiah +is the celebration, in Handel's way, of the great things of his life, +which, more or less, are the remarkable experience of all men, and which +receive the grandest verbal expression in the Bible. Having this same +confession to make, and obeying a different means from Moses and the +apostles, a means which few could understand, what remained but to +transcribe the sublimest verbal record men knew, and tell them that that +was a free translation of his thought. So, in later times, Beethoven +replied to one who asked the meaning of a sonata, "Read Shakespeare's +Tempest." With the masses and operas of modern times the case is the same. +Genius, which is plenitude of power, adapts itself to all facts. It will +receive the outline of a story and weave upon it a wonderful web, which +the story shall interpret. But an opera of Mozart's reveals to the +voiceless player its whole magnificence. Trilling Prima Donnas and silvery +Italian are the addenda and vocabulary. They are the "this is the man, +this the beast" written under the picture. The severe beauty of the art is +immediately injured by any encroachment upon the others. The highest +praise awarded to the most successful of such attempts is that of +imitation. Haydn would represent the growing of grass and the budding of +trees--a beautiful conceit, but a false perception of his art. Art has +little to do with imitation. The best portrait is not the fac-simile of a +face, but the suggestion of a character. Music has not to do with form but +thought. The Germans derive no more pleasure from the songs of their +masters than we who may not know their language. + +The second question is that of persons who do not understand the claims of +music to the dignity of an art, whom pleasant old songs pleasantly lull to +sleep after dinner; to whom comes no voice of the art separate from all +things else, but which stands before him silent and veiled, while an +interpreter converses. Often these songs are beautiful ballads, and so +have a peculiar grace. If the music is appropriate and simple and +melodious it is enough, and henceforth, to such, no artist who does not +play tunes is more than a quack; and the complaint of the man who sat +hearing Ole Bull for an hour, and then departed because he was so long +tuning his fiddle, is the most general criticism upon his performance. But +the old Scotch and Irish airs, which endear these songs to us, were +doubtless, at some remote period, the wordless singings of maternal love +over the rocking-cradle. They become readily united with words as a help +to the memory, and as imparting facility of expression. Those who have +heard "Auld Robin Gray," "Robin Adair," and the airs which Moore has +gratefully accompanied with words, played on summer evenings, with flutes +and horns, then realize that the impression lies in that which the words +shadow. This fact is recognized in modern music by the introduction of +songs without words--by the composition and performance, with more or less +success, of Beethoven's symphonies, where most of all words are at fault. +The pleasure of him to whom these profound compositions reveal a meaning +is more private and enchanting than any he knows. He is very well content +to be called enthusiastic, for his presence along justifies the +performance of such works. When he meets at the concert-room those who are +enraptured with Donizetti, yet who come to do homage to Beethoven, he is +reminded that Beethoven would not see Rossini, holding him as one who +debased the art; and it seems to him like Jesus calling upon the Jews to +become as little children. Everybody reads Shakespeare, but few know what +the word means. The theatre is crowded to hear Macready's "Hamlet," but it +is to see Macready, not to study the drama. When he is gone the play +remains; and though it is spoken by stupid men, their dulness cannot +affect its profundity and strength. That is the test of art, that it +transcends its instruments; and the artist at his piano realizes the soul, +though not the effect of the symphony which has spoken to him so loudly +from the orchestra. + +The music written at this day is gymnastics for the instrument, rather +than worthy offerings upon the altar of art. It is a perverse separation +of the art and the science. It requires an accurate knowledge of the +instrument that it may surprise, and so win applause for the performer; +not that it may the better serve music, whether it has auditors or not. +Few things could have more deeply pained a worthy musician than the last +concert of Max Bohrer. Such profound knowledge of the power of the +instrument, such utter ignorance of its intention. It seemed to groan in +despair, that he, who knew its changes so well, could not awaken it to +melody, but, with solemn conceit, show that he did know them, and gain +approbation for that knowledge. Knoop, with the same exact science, showed +a hearty reverence for art, and reverently withdrew himself and his +violoncello. Castellan's voice was so full that her person was necessarily +forgotten. One would not do injustice to the voice; that is frequently the +instrument for which fine music is written; but in view of the art, it is +an instrument only. Its deeper effect upon many minds springs from its +humanity, from that part of it of which nothing can be said, and which the +coal-man has as well as Malibran. This constitutes its occasional +superiority of influence, but cannot impart to it the effect and artistic +manifestation which instruments produce. When the full force of both is +united, as in the symphony mentioned, the grandest musical expression +appears. + +The winter has been full of finer musical experience than we have yet had. +With Ole Bull, Vieuxtemps, and Knoop, Castellan and Damoreau--the +Beethoven symphonies and German overtures of the Philharmonic Society, the +art has reached a point hitherto unattained. Yet this is partly deceptive. +Most persons heard Ole Bull from curiosity, and the symphonies from +fashion. Such music and such artists have no permanent hold of the heart +here. The pianos are covered with the songs of Donizetti; and Max Bohrer +takes, generally, a higher rank than Knoop. The student of art does not +regard these noble artists and fine music as the dawning of the art among +us, but as brighter stars flashing across the sky, while still the east is +dark. Europe has made these artists and this music after many centuries. +In the bosom of a church, full of profound spiritual experiences, this +music has been nurtured, and artistic devotion has streamed upon these +men. The necessity of this hoary antiquity to the development of art we +cannot readily determine. Our painters and sculptors must flock to Italy, +and lie down in the shadows of those old fanes, before they are willing to +announce their claim to be servants of the art. Our poets sing in +self-defence the majesty and grandeur of primeval America, and drink +deeply at the stream of letters that flows from the Past. Had foreign +literature been cut off from us, we should have had few writers of poetry, +and Mr. Griswold's book had been a valuable duodecimo and not a heavy +octavo. Our chief poets are cultivated men. Poetry with us is the +recreation of elegant scholars. Mr. Percival announces that he writes +poetry in more than a hundred ways; and the few young men who seem to +advance first claims to the dignity of poets, by their fresh expression, +need the overshadowing of Time to make them artists. How especially is +this so with music. We have no native artists and few hearty students. The +societies which introduce to us the finest music are German, our musical +teachers are Germans and Italians, our opera is Italian. Of this no +complaint is to be made. The nation is content with a foreign fragrance, +as the individual students are content to live in Rome and send home to us +the ideas of an old mythology wrought into statues. Art is the flower of +life. The man will build his house, then he will have pictures and a +piano. The claims of the interior life will surely be heard at last, and +art will follow. Yankees and Wall Street govern now, Niagara by-and-by. +The prophecies of our American literature, with which the literary +anniversaries are annually eloquent, are sure. Contemplating the healthy +seed which they represent, we need not fear for the flower. But the +literature and art will be American only in respect of culture. The German +music is an universal song, sung in a provincial dialect. The immortality +of the classics is the universality of their truth. English and Italian +art are the several ways that nations regard the same thing. The soul of +music, as of painting and poetry, is always one. The foreigner is no +longer a foreigner when he hears the music he loves; and silent under its +spell, lovers, for the first time, meet. In the Louvre or the Vatican will +not the traveller see his home? + +Yet in our present backwoods life let me not omit to notice the wonderful +artist whom we have recently seen. The genius of Ole Bull is so delicate +and profound that we must speak of it modestly, but with certainty. It is +not to be estimated by comparison. The height assures us of its loftiness, +not by the inferior summits below it, but by the wide, full sunlight and +the free winds that flow around it and rest upon it. The perception of +genius is so sure that we need not attempt to define what it is. Every +artist, full of its power, shows something more than the last. Like +beauty, it will not be measured, but every beautiful person shames our +analysis and philosophy of beauty. Yet the impression of genius is always +the same, and its appearance in any one individual makes real to us all +the rest. Until we heard Ole Bull, Paganini was a fabulous being of whom, +as of Orpheus and Amphion, strange stories were told, which seemed rather +prophecies of musical possibility than the history of actual +accomplishment. Henceforth Paganini is a household god, and the old Pagans +loom more distinctly through the misty centuries and wear something of the +aspect of reality. + +To us, children of a seventy years' nation, plucking the full blossom of +European musical culture, the appearance of Ole Bull was like a new star +in the sky. Few had predicted its shining. At most, there was a faint +hope, in some minds, that we should yet see a worthy minister of art, in +honoring whom we should fitly reverence the Masters. Yet it was a hope too +faint and limited to inspire confidence in our manager to secure to +himself a fair portion of the ample harvest nodding for so sharp a sickle. +When he appeared, that wild Norwegian bravery, subdued by a reverence for +art and deepened by commanding originality, the shouting theatre, the +crowded tabernacle, the press for once speaking confidently in one tone, +the silent joy of hearts to whom this was the first vision of +genius--these announced a triumph. The ecstatic musical festivals of +Europe, the pilgrimages of artists more royally surrounded than the +progress of kings, we now understood. + +The chief value of Ole Bull is that he introduces us more nearly to art. +It is the prerogative of genius to illustrate that; therefore he stood +before us as one who had in rapt hours pierced a little further into the +mystery which envelops life like an atmosphere and came to recite his +vision. He had detected some of those fine sunbeams that make the air +golden and give it warmth, and painted them for us as well as he could. +Yet in his music there was the same melancholy strain, varied by wonderful +and wild freaks, like the hysterics of the gods, that hitherto so +emphatically characterizes the works of genius. Throughout his +compositions there was the want of unity which expressed aspiration not +fulfilment, scattered stones of a fairer temple than men have seen, which +also are all works of art hitherto, yet each so fair that for these the +old shrines are deserted, and here men worship. One perceived that the +performance was the least part of the man. It was not his height and +limit, a faint beacon-light, rather, trembling over the waters, marking +the shore of a wide land, with deep ravines and towering mountains and +endless woods fringing depthless seas, and yet a light so bright that we +thought the sun was rising. For the genius which enables one to illustrate +art is universal power, whose expression is inadequate because thought is +quicker than execution. Every work of art represents an era past. Only the +whole character of the artist is the present flower of his life. It is no +matter of surprise that Ole Bull practises little, that his compositions +are unique. A deep rhythm, a subdued, infinite harmony pervades them. The +rugged Norway shows in them its influence upon the artist. The rocks and +glens and forests of his fatherland are not painted, but their spiritual +significance floats through his music, modified and moulded by the +individuality of the man. All this appears in his aspect. As he advances, +the strong, composed grace of his appearance, deferential not to +individuals but to the mind which shall receive the song of his +inspiration, destroys conventional ideas of grace, as Mont Blanc might +destroy them. His tall, compact figure well becomes a priest of art. Out +of his eyes shines the reflection of the perpetual fire of which all +artists are the ministers and which communicates energy and warmth to his +action. With a slight, respectful motion of the head and violin-bow +towards the orchestra, the respect of Olympian power, he draws from them +the first notes of the symphony; then, leaning his head upon his +instrument caressingly, as if he gratefully heard at once what he is about +to unfold to the audience, he draws his bow. Then that violin expresses +with intense passion the undefined yearnings that haunt the private heart. +It entreats and restrains. Its wildness harmonizes with the deep unrest of +a great aspiring soul. Its solemn movement is like the progress of a brave +man to an unknown destiny, and as the last yet distinct cadence floats +away into the stillness, it is as if a dove disappeared in heaven. At his +second concert he played an adagio of Mozart. It was full of tender +delicacy and the graceful imagination that makes all his music romance. +All this the artist felt, and every tone that followed his bow was +exquisite. Then was it seen how all genius meets. It was as if the +composer lay in the violin and sang the song anew, as if Raphael recited +one of Shakespeare's sonnets. + +With what has been said about the man one who realizes the genius has +little to do. The music was not false, and that is his language. There has +been stern opposition and prejudice and ill-will; but so we must all bring +our gifts to the altar, and they who have not gold gifts must tender +swine. + +Not the least of his offices is that he has enabled us to appreciate +Vieuxtemps. They will not be compared by the reverent worshipper at the +shrine of art. The plant needs the sunshine and the dew. It was pleasant +to feel that genius abides in one man and realize that one star differeth +from another in glory. Surely the firmament of art is wide enough and yet +deep enough to contain many planets. + +Yet the artists are but messengers whom we send before into the +undiscovered country. They return and sing to us songs familiar in the +Eldorado of our hope, yet of which we have learned no note. Afloat upon +the depthless sea we loose doves and ravens, who bear back to us olive +boughs and flowers which we cannot analyze, but whose form and fragrance +make our homes beautiful. When the first shock of delighted wonder is past +we receive great men as the present attainment of an illimitable Nature, +as the Earth receives the light of stars, unnoticed save of wandering +lovers, and sweeps undisturbed on its way. If sometimes we are warped from +our sphere by the apparition of noble persons, wise men presently recover +themselves and serve with a milder and firmer persistence their own +nature. The way is made clearer by these bright lights, universal nature +is fairer that there are so many single stars; but they must be only stars +in our heaven and fires on our hearth, nor turn out the heart by inserting +themselves in the bosom. + +G.W.C. + + +XIII + +CONCORD, _Friday evening, May 10th, 1844._ + +Since our arrival here I have been busy enough. From breakfast at 6 to +dinner at 12-1/2, hard at work, and all the afternoon roaming over the +country far and near. When we came the spring was just waking, now it is +opening like a rose-bud, with continually deepening beauty. The +apple-trees in full bloom, making the landscape so white, seem to present +a synopsis of the future summer glory of the flower-world. + +Our farm lies on one of the three hills of Concord. They call it +Punkatassett. Before us, at the foot of the hill, is the river; and the +slope between holds a large part of the Captain's orchard. Among the hills +at one side we see the town, about a mile away; and a wide horizon all +around, which Elizabeth Hoar tells me she has learned is the charm of +Concord scenery. The summit of the hill on which we are is crowned with +woods, and from a clearing commands a grand prospect. Wachusett rises +alone upon the distance, and takes the place of the ocean in the +landscape. There is a limitation in the prospect if one cannot see the sea +or mountains. The Blue Hill, in a measure, supplies that want at West +Roxbury. Otherwise the landscape is a garden which only pleases. We are +much pleased with our host and his family. He is that Capt. Nathan Barrett +to whom Messrs. Pratt and Brown came for seed, and who raises a good deal +of seed for Ruggles, Nourse and Mason. We go into all work. The Captain +turns us out with the oxen and plough, and we do our best. Already I have +learned a good deal. The men are very courteous and generous. + +Indeed, I am disposed to think it just the place we wanted. As yet I see +no reason to doubt it. It is so still a life after the city, and after the +family at Brook Farm. I am glad to be thrown so directly and almost alone +into nature, and am more ready than ever to pay my debt in a human way by +learning the names of her beautiful flowers and the places where they +blossom. We study Botany daily, and have thus far kept pace with the +season. I have found here the yellow violet, which I do not remember at +West Roxbury. Already we have the rhodora and the columbine, which you +have probably found. And with our afternoons surrendered to the meadows +and hills, and our mornings to the fields, we find no heavy hours; but +every Sunday surprises us. I am to bed at 9, and rise at 4-1/2 or 5. I +practise the Orphic, which says: "Baptize thyself in pure water every +morning when thou leavest thy couch," which I more concisely render, Wash +betimes. + +For the last three evenings I have been in the village, hearing Belinda +Randall play and sing. With the smallest voice she sings so delicately, +and understands her power so well, that I have been charmed. It was a +beautiful crown to my day, not regal and majestic, like Frances O.'s in +the ripe summer, but woven of spring flowers and buds. Last night I saw +her at Mr. Hoar's, only herself and Miss E. Hoar, G.P. Bradford, Mr. and +Mrs. Emerson, and myself and Mr. Hoar. She played Beethoven, sang the +"Adelaide Serenade," "Fischer Madchen," "Amid this Green Wood." I walked +home under the low, heavy, gray clouds; but the echo lingered about me +like starlight. + +We have a piano in the house, and a very good one. It was made by Currier, +and is but a few years old. The evenings do not all pass without reminding +me of the flute music of the last summer, and making me half long to hear +it again. Yet I am too contented to wish to be back at the Farm. The +country about us is wilder than there; but I need now this tender severity +of nature and of friendship. With John Hosmer, Isaac, Geo. Bradford, and +Burrill, I am not without some actual features of the Farm as I knew it. +When I shall see you I cannot say. I shall not willingly break the circle +of life here, though occasion will make me willing enough. + +Let me not remain unmentioned to my friends at Brook Farm and in the +village; and when you can _ungroup_ yourself for an hour paint me a +portrait of the life you lead. + +Yr friend, + +G.W.C. + + +XIV + +CONCORD, _May 24th, '44._ + +My dear Friend,--I heard of you at Ole Bull's concert, and have +sympathized with you in your delight. I was in Worcester that evening, and +had hoped to have come down to Boston and heard him once more. But so many +were listening with that pleasure which can come but once, and I knew so +many must try in vain to hear, that I was content others should then +express that admiration which lies so deeply in my heart. But who of all +heard? Was it not as if he walked above the earth, and of his sublime +conversation you heard now and then the notes? Did not the singular beauty +of the man unite with his performance to make the completest musical +festival you have had? + +Indeed, I owe more to him than one can know, except as he feels the same +debt; are you not that one? + +To Belinda Randall, who has been here, as I told you, I was obliged for +revealing Beethoven's tenderness. She is so soft and tender herself that +she could not fail unconsciously to express it in her playing. I passed +some fine evenings with her. Since I had been here I had heard no music, +and felt that I needed to hear some as an adequate expression of all that +I felt. When she came that demand was satisfied. Ole Bull satisfies the +claim of the same nature which our whole life makes, and of itself +creates, rather reveals newer and deeper demands, and so on, I suppose, +until the celestial harmonies are heard by us. + +I heard from a friend of the last Philharmonic in New York. It seems they +have made Vieux-temps an honorary member, and he played for them. On the +same evening they performed one of Beethoven's symphonies. It is one of +those accounts whose beauty is their nakedness. To lovers of music a bare +description is as an outline to a painter which he can readily fill up and +supply with the shadows and sunlight. Yet not he so magnificently as +sunlight and shadows sweep over this landscape. It seems to me that a +century of splendor has been rushing by since I have been here. + +The persons who make Concord famous I have hardly seen. The consciousness +of their presence is like the feeling of lofty mountains whom the night +and thick forests hide. Of one of them, E. Hoar, I need to say nothing to +you. One evening I sat with her and Waldo Emerson and Geo. P. Bradford +while Belinda Randall played and sang. + +Isaac brings you this, and will himself best tell you of himself. Burrill +is well, and unites with me in remembrance to all who remember. + +Your friend, + +G.W.C. + + +XV + +CONCORD, _June 26th, 1844._ + +These are Tophetic times. I doubt if the sturdy faith of those heroes, +Shadrack and co., would carry them through this fervor unliquefied. Their +much vaunted furnace was but a cool retreat where thoughts of great-coats +were possible, compared with this. And if that nether region of whose +fires so much is sung by poets and other men possessed, can offer hotter +heats, let them be produced. Those Purgatorial ardencies for the gentle +suggestion of torment to thin shades can have little in common with these +perspiration-compelling torridities. Why does not some ingenious Yankee +improve such times for the purchase, at a ruinous discount, of all thick +clothes? I tremble lest some one should offer me an ice-cream for my best +woollens! Is it human to resist such an offer? Does it not savor something +of Devildom, and a too great familiarity with that lower Torrid Zone, to +entertain such a proposition cool-ly? when such a word grows suddenly +obsolete in such seasons? If I venture to move, such an atmosphere of heat +is created immediately around my body that all cool breezes (if the +imagination is competent to such a conception) are like arid airs when +they reach my mouth. Perhaps we are tending to those final, fiery days of +which Miller is a prophet. We are slowly sinking, perhaps, from heat to +heat, until entire rarefication and evanishment in imperceptible vapor +ensues; and so the great experiment of a world may end in smoke, as many +minor ones have ended. If it were not so hot, I should love to think about +these things. + +June 28th. So far I had proceeded on the afternoon I returned to Concord. +When I desisted I supposed I had inscribed my final manuscript, and that +only a cinder would be found sitting over it when some one should enter. +Yet by the providence of God I am preserved for the experience of greater +heats. I did not know before what was the capacity of endurance of the +human frame. I begin to suspect we are of nearer kin to the Salamander +than our pride will allow; and since Devils only are admitted to nether +fire, I begin to lapse into the credence of total depravity!! Reflect upon +my deplorable condition! As Shelley's body, when lifeless, was caused to +disappear in flames and smoke, so may mine before its tenant is departed. +Was it not prophetic that on Sunday afternoon the following lines came to +me while thinking of that poet? + + SHELLEY + + A smoke that delicately curled to heaven, + Mingling its blueness with the infinite blue, + So to the air the faded form was given, + So unto fame the gentle spirit grew. + +And as Shelley and Keats are associated always together in my mind, +immediately the Muse gave me this: + + KEATS + + A youth did plight his troth to Poesy. + "Thee only," were the fervent words he said, + Then sadly sailed across the foaming sea, + And lay beneath the southern sunset dead. + +I was glad that once I could express what I think about those men. These +will show you, but you must write your own poem upon them before you will +be satisfied. Is it not so always? We cannot speak much about poets until +our thought of them sings itself. + +The day I left you was very hot in Boston. Anna Shaw and Rose Russell +passed me like beautiful spirits; one like a fresh morning, the other like +an Oriental night. Then I did my business, and met James Sturgis, who +carried me to see his head cut in cameo by Mr. King. It is quite good, +though it gives him rather a finer head than he has; but that's a good +failing. I went to the Athenaeum. There I saw one or two pictures, and much +paint upon canvas. Those that I liked I saw belonged to the Athenaeum, and +I suppose were old objects to those who are familiar with the gallery. A +face of Ophelia interested me. It was very simple and sweet. But I was so +warm that I could do little more than lay upon a bench and catch dreamy +glimpses of the walls. The sculpture gallery, full of white marble heads, +seemed quite cool. + +My dear Friend, I shall melt and be mailed in this letter as a spot if I +do not surcease. May you be blest with frigidity, a blessing far removed +from my hope. Of course I must be warmly, nay, _hotly_ remembered to +Charles. + +Yrs ever, + +G.W.C. + + +XVI + +CONCORD, _August 7th, 1844._ + +My regret at not seeing you was only lessened by the beautiful day I +passed with Mr. Hawthorne. His life is so harmonious with the antique +repose of his house, and so redeemed into the present by his infant, that +it is much better to sit an hour with him than hear the Rev. Barzillai +Frost! His baby is the most serenely happy I ever saw. It is very +beautiful, and lies amid such placid influences that it too may have a +milk-white lamb as emblem; and Mrs. Hawthorne is so tenderly respectful +towards her husband that all the romance we picture in a cottage of lovers +dwells subdued and dignified with them. I see them very seldom. The people +here who are worth knowing, I find, live very quietly and retired. In the +country, friendship seems not to be of that consuming, absorbing character +that city circumstances give it, but to be quite content to feel rather +than hear or do; and that very independence which withdraws them into the +privacy of their homes is the charm which draws thither. + +Mr. Emerson read an address before the anti-slavery "friends" last +Thursday. It was very fine. Not of that cold, clear, intellectual +character which so many dislike, but ardent and strong. His recent reading +of the history of the cause has given him new light and warmed a fine +enthusiasm. It commenced with allusions to the day "which gives the +immense fortification of a fact to a great principle," and then drew in +strong, bold outline the progress of British emancipation. Thence to +slavery in its influence upon the holders, to the remark that this event +hushed the old slander about inferior natures in the negro, thence to the +philosophy of slavery, and so through many detached thoughts to the end. +It was nearly two hours long, but was very commanding. He looked genial +and benevolent, as who should smilingly defy the world, the flesh, and the +devil to ensnare him. The address will be published by the society; and he +will probably write it more fully, and chisel it into fitter grace for the +public criticism. He spoke of your unfortunate call, but said you bore the +sulkiness very well. George Bradford was also very sorry; and it was bad +that you should come so far, with the faces of friends for a hospitable +city before you, and find a mirage only, or (begging Burrill's pardon) one +house. + +For the last six weeks I have been learning what hard work is. Afternoon +leisure is now remembered with the holiday which Saturday brought to the +school-boy. During the haying we have devoted all our time and faculty to +the making of hay, leaving the body at night fit only to be devoted to +sheets and pillows, and not to grave or even friendly epistolary +intercourse. Oh friends! live upon faith, say I, as I pitch into bed with +the ghosts of Sunday morning resolutions of letters tickling my sides or +thumping my back, and then sink into dreams where every day seems a day in +the valley of Ajalon, and innumerable Joshuas command the sun and moon to +stay, and universal leisure spreads over the universe like a great wind. +Then comes morning and wakefulness and boots and breakfast and scythes and +heat and fatigue, and all my venerable Joshuas endeavor in vain to make +oxen stand still, and I heartily wish them and I back in our valley ruling +the heavens and not bending scythes over unseen hassocks which do +sometimes bend the words of our mouths into shapes resembling oaths! those +most crooked of all speech, but therefore best and fittest for the +occasional crooks of life, particularly mowing. Yet I mow and sweat and +get tired very heartily, for I want to drink this cup of farming to the +bottom and taste not only the morning froth but the afternoon and evening +strength of dregs and bitterness, if there be any. When haying is over, +which event will take place on Saturday night of this week, fair weather +being vouchsafed, I shall return to my moderation. Towards the latter part +of the month I shall stray away towards Providence and Newport and sit +down by the sea, and in it, too, probably. So I shall pass until harvest. +Where the snows will fall upon me I cannot yet say. + +Say to Charles that I was sorry not to have seen him; but if persons of +consequence will travel without previous annunciation, they may chance to +find even the humblest of their servants not at home. I know you will +write when the time comes, so I say nothing but that I am your friend +ever. + +G.W.C. + + +XVII + +CONCORD, _Sept. 23, 1844._ + +Shall we not see you on the day of the cattle-show? Certainly Brook Farm +will be represented; and I think you may, by this time, be farmer enough +to enjoy the cattle and the ploughing. Besides, as I remember a similar +excursion last year at which I assisted, the splendor of the early +morning, which was not yet awake when we came away from the Farm, will +amply repay any extraordinary effort. And still another besides; I do not +want the winter to build its white, impenetrable walls between us before I +have heard your voice once more. I should hope to come and look at you for +one day, at least, in West Roxbury; but our Captain has work, autumnal +work, the end whereof is not comprehended by the unassisted human vision. +Potato-digging, apple-picking, thrashing, the gathering of innumerable +seeds, must be done before winter; and yet to-day is like a despatch from +December to announce that snow and ice and wind are to be just as cold +this winter as they were the last. + +And I have had a long vacation, too. I think, on the very day after I +wrote my last letter to you, as I was whetting my scythe for the last +swath of the season, my hat half fell off, and suddenly raising my hand to +catch it, I thrust it against the scythe and cut my thumb just upon the +joint. It has healed, but I shall never find it quite as agile as +formerly. I could not use the hand--my right hand--for more than a +fortnight. It was like losing a sense to lose its use. After a week of +inaction in Concord, I went to Rhode Island and remained three weeks, and +am now at home a fortnight. I came back more charmed than ever with +Concord, which hides under a quiet surface most precious scenes. I suppose +we see more deeply into the spirit of a landscape where we have been +happy. Then we behold the summer bloom. It is spring or autumn or winter +to men generally. + +We shall remain with Capt. Barrett through the winter. The spring will +bring its own arrangements, or rather the conclusion of those which are +formed during the winter. I suspect that our affections, like our bodies, +have been transplanted to Massachusetts, and that our lives will grow in +the new soil. Not at all ambitious of settling and becoming a citizen, I +am very well content with the nomadic life until obedience to the law of +things shall plant me in some home. + +And are you still at home in the Farm? Rumors, whose faces I cannot fairly +see, pass by me sometimes, breathing your name and others. But I have long +ago turned rumor out-of-doors as an impostor and impertinent person, who +apes the manners and appearance of its betters. I shall receive none as +from you, however loudly they may shout your name, except they show your +hand and seal. + +Autumn has already begun to leave the traces of her golden fingers upon +the brakes, and occasionally upon some tall nut-trees. It seems as if she +were trying her skill before she comes like a wind over the landscape. She +warbles a few glittering notes before the mournful, majestic Death-song. + +Dear friend, why should I send you this chip of ore out of the mine of +regard which is yours in my heart? Come and dig in it. + +Your friend, + +G.W. CURTIS. + + +XVIII + +CONCORD, _January 12, '45._ + +My dear Friend,--I have written Burrill to look at the Custom-house, and +inquire about the method of warming by water. He replies that he has been +there, but defers writing to you until he learns more about the matter. +Through him I received a message from Isaac to tell you that he (I) can +procure an edition of the Beethoven Sonatas (26, I believe) for about $10. + +I think it highly probable that I shall pass some weeks in Providence next +month, and so will defer my day with you at Brook Farm until that time, of +which I will inform you. + +Burrill has not yet returned, and leaves me still a hermit. I am well +pleased with my solitude, nor do I care much to go out of the country +during the winter; but domestic circumstances make it advisable to go to +Providence. There I shall have a good library at hand, which I miss a good +deal here. Indeed, I think it likely that every year while my home is in +the country I may perform a pilgrimage to the city for two or three months +for purposes of art and literature and affection, for, as there seems in +the minds of divines to be some doubt of personal identity when this +mortal coil is shuffled off, I am fain to embrace my friends' coils while +they are yet palpable. This idea of city visits implies a very free life; +but there seems now to be no hinderance to it. When the band of Phalanxes, +proceeding into desert and free air, no more allow art to rendezvous in +cities, I can take one of the nearest radiating railroads and rush from my +solitude into the healthily-peopled and cityish-countrified Phalanx. + +I am loath to forgive Fourier the unmitigated slander upon the moon. I +began to suspect that was the only influence alive since the sun lights +men to cheating and deviltry; and the moon recalls the sweetest +remembrance and best hope. After our evening at Almira's it lighted me +home with such forgiving splendor that I could have fallen on my knees in +the snow and have prayed its pardon if it would not have chilled those +members. + +Almira I have not seen since Wednesday. She was then well, and went with +me to hear Dr. Francis lecture upon Bishop Berkeley. He told the life, +which is the most poetical and beautiful of any of his contemporary +philosophers, and then suggested that the "limits of a lecture" did not +permit an extended notice of his philosophy, and so gave none. + +Among my holiday gifts was Miss Barrett's poems. She is a woman of +vigorous thought, but not very poetical thought, and throwing herself into +verse involuntarily becomes honied and ornate, so that her verse cloys. It +is not natural, quite. Tennyson's world is purple, and all his thoughts. +Therefore his poetry is so, and so naturally. Wordsworth lives in a clear +atmosphere of thought, and his poetry is simple and natural, but no more +than Tennyson's. Pardon these critical distinctions. I make them to have +them expressed, for Burrill did not see why I called Miss Barrett purple. +It was because her highly colored robe was not harmonious with her native +style of thought. Ben Jonson, too, I have been reading. After him and +Beaumont and Fletcher (who are imitators, rather, of Shakespeare), I feel +that Shakespeare differed not in degree only but in kind from all others, +his contemporaries and successors. In his peculiar path Jonson was +unequalled, but Shakespeare includes that and so much more! He seems to be +the only one to whom poets are content to be inferior. + +Remember me to Charles Dana and my other compeers at Brook Farm, +especially Charles Newcomb. + +Yours sincerely, + +G.W.C. + + +XIX + +My dear Friend,--If I should come to Brook Farm on Thursday evening will +it be convenient, and shall you be at home? If all circumstances favor, I +should like to remain with you until Saturday. On Thursday I shall go into +Boston to hear what the Texas Convention is saying, and if I hear anything +very eloquent or interesting may not see you until Friday. + +I was very sorry to know nothing of your convention until it was over. I +should have run down to have seen you. + +On Saturday evening I was at the Academy, and on Sunday at the Handel and +Haydn. I have by Burrill a letter from Cranch, and a book of German songs +from Isaac. More anon. + +Your friend ever, + +G.W. Curtis. + +CONCORD, _January 28th_, 1845. + + +XX + +PROVIDENCE, _March 5th, '45._ + +My dear Friend,--I hope to see you at Brook Farm by Friday, intending to +remain until Friday P.M. Here in Providence I have been having a quiet +good time, though the weeks have flown faster than I thought weeks could +fly. Mrs. Burges received a _Phalanx_ from Miss Russell, in which we found +a good deal of interesting matter. I hear from her that she will write by +me to Miss Russell. + +To-day it rains merrily, a warm southern April rain; and the weeks of mild +weather hint that there must be ploughing and sowing very soon. I +anticipate my summer work with a good deal of pleasure. + +Yours truly and hastily, + +G.W. Curtis. + + +XXI + +CONCORD, _March 13, '45._ + +My dear Friend,--The cold gray days at Brook Farm were the sunniest of the +month. I wish I could step into the parlor when my heart is ready for +music, and surrender to Beethoven and Mozart or, indeed, when I find men +very selfish and mean, look in upon your kindliness and general sympathy. +But while your intercourse at the Farm is so gentle and sweet you will not +forget that it springs from the characters whose companions are still in +outer darkness and civilization! I meet every day men of very tender +characters under the roughest mien. Even in the midst of the world I +constantly balance my ledger in favor of actual virtue, and enjoy +intercourse, not so familiar but as sweet, as that I saw at Brook Farm. Is +it not the tendency of a decided institution of reform to be unjust to the +Barbarians? I do assure you the warm, tender south winds blow over us here +in the unsocial state no less than the chilly east. + +The snow on the ground belies the season. It is warm to-day and the birds +sing. I should have enjoyed more my ride in the soft snow on Tuesday if +conscience had not arrayed me against Mr. Billings. But I am most glad to +see that I am withdrawing from the argumentative. I begin to enjoy more +than ever the pure still characters which I meet. Intellect is not quite +satisfying though so alluring. It is a scentless flower; but there is a +purer summer pleasure in the sweet-brier than the dahlia, though one would +have each in his garden. It is because Shakespeare is not solely +intellectual, but equally developed, that his fame is universal. The old +philosophers, the sheer intellects, lack as much fitness to life as a man +without a hand or an eye. And because life is interpreted by sentiment, +the higher the flight of the intellect the colder and sadder is the man. +Plato and Emerson are called poets, but if they were so their audience +would be as wide as the world. Milton's fame is limited because he lacked +a subtlety and delicacy corresponding with his healthiness and strength. +Milton fused in Keats would have formed a greater than Shakespeare. If +Milton's piety had been Catholic and not Puritanical I do not see why he +should not have been a greater poet. + +I shall not have much work to do before we undertake our garden plot. We +take care of the cattle daily, and that is about all. Yesterday in the +sunlight I walked in the woods. It was a spectacle finer than the +sleet--the flower of winter among the trees. + +I forgot to take the _Phalanxes_. Geo. Bradford asked me for a half-dozen. +If you will send them to me I will give them to him. Almira says that he +is now in a Brook Farm way. It is a species of chills and fever with him, +as you know. + +Remember me to the Eaglets, Dolly and her friend, Mary especially; and +tell Abby Foord I have already learned the Polonaise which she is +practising. I sit and play it over and over, and think I shall never tire +of it. It has a peculiar charm to me, as I have never heard it except in +the Eyrie parlor. It will always float me back to that room. Will you say +to Charles Newcomb that Burrill has destroyed all "the churchmen"? +Remember me to your family and believe me, as always, + +G.W.C. + + +XXII + +CONCORD, _April 22d, 1845._ + +Will you forgive me if I flood you with letters now while the mood of +writing lasts? It seems that I must so exhaust some of the added life +which spring infuses into my veins. The gray herbage of winter fades so +slowly, so imperceptibly into the spring greenness, that I watch it with +the curious eyes of a lover who sees gradual developments of deeper beauty +in the face of his mistress. Do you note how every spring, sliding down +from heaven with such intense life, quenches or rather subdues the +remembrance of all past springs as a great gem surrounded in the ring by +many small ones? And as I stood to-day, as if hearing the throb of the new +active life in nature, for winter is more like the unchanged dead face of +an intellectual person, the contrast of this steaming and heating life was +suggested to me as is always the case, and necessarily so to the +perfection of the thought. The idea of day is not symmetrical except when +night is implied in thought, for if one could paint a portrait of the day, +it would be brightness against darkness. + +Why are we so troubled or moved at death, elated or depressed? It cannot +give anything, nor take. Every sphere satisfies its desires by its hopes, +and so seems to show that life is only an effort at equilibrium. At least +it does show that to this state. There is a perpetual balance in every +experience, never a permanence, as night follows day, but never survives +the sunrise. Plato nor Shakespeare have drunk all this beauty, and it +seems not right to become cold and callous towards it, externally, as the +dead are. If they see the soul of things, do they see the form of nature +without the soul, as we do now? If death mark only a general expansion of +life and nature, it is no more pleasant. With greater hopes greater +desires; and, after all, it is only keeping a larger set of books. There +is no standard of life, as there is none of character. A flower is +sometimes as pure a satisfaction as a man or the thought of an archangel. +It passes into a proverb that the beggar is happier than a king, and +proverbs are only the homely disguises in which wisdom roams the world. + +The "Polarity" which Emerson talks about is the nearest approximation to +the universal form of life, but this is constantly marred by a stray +thought of permanence and the confusing hint of the passive mind that we +suppose the balance to be the law, and are glad to accept night with day, +and cold with heat, because there is a blindness in the spiritual eye +which will not let us see the riper spirits who are not sated but +satisfied with permanency. For there, too, is a reason that we are so glad +to hide in the equipoise as an eternal fact that we are surfeited with +constancy. Drowning in the malmsey-butt is no better than the Thames. +Enjoyment to-day is secured by the certain prospect of sorrow to-morrow, +which is not wilful, but a lesson of life, and as we suppose, at last, of +the central life, just as the creation at daybreak is supported and +adorned in the mind by the prospective tenderness of twilight. And this +balancing, so universal in this sphere, in outward if not in real life, is +therefore a fact, and why not as profound as any, since there is no +standard of life? Is there any law at last? Nature seems so general and +yet so intensely individual. As fine harmony results from the accord of +distinct tones, and each tone an infinite division of vibrations. At +bottom no things are similar. Harmony is only unison, not identity. Nature +is like the ocean, which bears whole forests hewn into ships laden with +treasure; but no bottom is found to support all the weight, only a drop +resting upon a drop forever. The elephant that bore the earth stood upon a +tortoise, who fortunately could keep his feet in his shell, and so had no +need to stand anywhere! + +The spring day looks very inscrutably upon all such wandering fancies. Her +beauty is very inexorable, yet fascinating beyond resistance. It is not +regal and composing and self-finding as is the mellowed summer, but an +alluring splendor. It is a bud in inner, as well as outer, expression, and +not yet a satisfying flower. Yet in the young days of June is sometimes +seen the sereneness of autumn. After the full summer it is quite plain. It +is like a child with pale, consumptive hands. Yet this is a constant +reference to unity, which just now seemed so far off. Beauty suggests what +Truth only can answer and Goodness realize; and the whole circle of nature +offers these three only, beauty, truth, and goodness, or, again, poetry, +philosophy, religion, or, more subtly, tone, color, feeling. This lies +beyond words, because they are an intellectual means. Music foreshadows +their interpretation, but always faintly, as it does everything, because +music is revealed only enough here that we may not be surprised hereafter +in some sphere. This is an intellectual sphere, but music is sentiment, so +it is here an accomplishment for women, and for men of finer natures. +Music is the science of spiritual form; and poetry, which is the loftiest +expression of the intellectual sphere, finds its profound distinction from +prose, which is the language of the vulgar, in its spiritual and sensuous +rhythm, and so is music applied to the intellectual state. + +Nature answers questions by removing us out of inquisitiveness. It is +wilfully that we are querulous in nature, and not naturally. + +I just now went to the door, and the still beauty of the moonlight night +makes me a little ashamed of my letter. If I had stayed all day in the +woods, and seen you there, I should have been content to be silent; but +removed from the immediate glow of nature, and sitting in a purely human +society, surrounded by circumstances produced humanly, as the house and +furniture, the mind is withdrawn into a separate chamber, like one who +goes down from the house-top into a room and so looks towards the north or +west or south, and does not see all around as before. + +Good-night, good friend. + +Yr. aff. + +G.W.C. + + +XXIII + +CONCORD, _April 5th, 1845._ + +Judge, my unitary friend, how grateful was your letter, perfumed with +flowers and moonlight, to an unfortunate up to his ears in manure and +dish-water! For no happier is my plight at this moment. I snatch a moment +out of the week wherein the significance of that fearful word _business_ +has been revealed to me to send an echo, a reply to your good letter. + +Since Monday we have been moving and manuring and fretting and fuming and +rushing desperately up and down turnpikes with bundles and baskets, and +have arrived at the end of the week barely in order. Yesterday, in the +midst, while I was escorting a huge wagon of that invaluable farming +wealth, I encountered Mrs. Pratt and family making their reappearance in +civilization. All Brook Farm in the golden age seemed to be strapped to +the rear of their wagon as baggage, for Mrs. Pratt was the first lady I +saw at Brook Farm, where ladyhood blossomed so fairly. Ah! my minute is +over, and I must leave you to lie in wait for another. + +Evening. I have captured an evening instead, my first tolerably quiet +evening in this new life, this new system of ours for a summer sojourn. +The waves of my nomadic life drift me on strange shores, and sometimes, as +I mount them, I dream of a home, quiet and beautiful, that home which +allures all young minds and gradually fades into the sad features of such +households as we see. In all my experience I think of three happy homes +where the impression is uniform, for in all there are May Days and +Thanksgivings; and yet to see a complete home would be to see that +marriage which, if we may credit Miss Fuller, does not belong to an age +when celibacy is the "great fact." As if the divine force could be +extinguished! I must marry and spite her theory. You would be amused if +you could see some of the letters which I receive, and which discourse of +a wife with the same gravity as they do of washing clothes, as if each +were a necessary, and that it would not do for me to settle upon a farm +until I am married. There is some wisdom in the last advice. An old +bachelor upon a farm, with a solitary old maid-servant, is not the most +pleasing prospect for young one-and-twenty to contemplate. But I ignore +farms and maids and prospects, saving always the natural one. Next year +may find me the favored of all three. + +How gladly I would be with you on Monday, you know; but what candidate for +the plough and the broom should I be after the bewilderment of that scene! +I remember too well the festivals which graced the younger days to trust +myself within their sphere again, save in the midst of a boundless summer +leisure. And when, after these chill, moist, April days, the perfect +flower of summer shall bloom, I will be in its heart and breathe the +enchanted air again. The word reminds me how glad I am that the flowers +were so grateful. I committed my memory to delicate guardians, who, dying, +did not suffer that to die. And the trinity of tone, color, and sentiment, +though I knew not, like you, how to indicate it, is one of the most +alluring of mysteries, so much so that I must leave it even unexpressed. +Since so little may be known, I will not bring it into the melancholy +purlieus of theory, but see it and hear it and feel it in echoes and +glimpses. Yet all these rainbows which span the heaven of thought, finely +woven of the tears of humility, one would sometimes grasp and crystallize +forever. In that I find my satisfaction in what I know of Fourier; but to +clutch at the rainbow! can it be crystallized? + +Let not the spasm of infidelity mar my letter in your eyes or heart, and +on your anniversary let one stream flow to the memory of your friend, + +G.W.C. + + +XXIV + +CONCORD, _April 17th, 1845._ + +As a good friend, am I not bound to advise you how my new household works, +here in the very bosom of terrible civilization, which yet keeps me very +warm? A long wet day like this, when I have been gloriously imprisoned by +dropping diamonds, tries well the power of my new solitary life to charm +me. It has not failed. It is going away now through the dark, still +midnight, but it bears the image of my smile. A long wet day, with my +books and fire and Burrill for external, long thoughts for internal, +company. After a morning service prolonged far beyond the hour of matins, +led by the sweet and solemn Milton, I read Miss Martineau's last tale, +founded upon the history of Toussaint L'Ouverture, in whom I have been +interested. I have just read Victor Hugo's "Bug Jargal," his first novel, +and also based upon the insurrection of St. Domingo. I feel that Miss +Martineau's picture is highly colored, but the features must be correct. A +strong, sad, long-suffering, far-seeing man, finally privately murdered by +one who had been the idol of his manhood. The interest is individual +throughout, which is necessary, yet fatal to the novel. I followed the +Hero away from St. Domingo to his grave, and afterwards the thought of the +remaining negroes came very faintly back. We read what Napoleon said of +his own conduct in the matter; but with the abolitionist Miss Martineau on +one side, and the doubtful Man of Destiny on the other, the pure fact grew +very attenuated, and I am not now sure that I have seen it. The moment +your curiosity is really aroused about an historical circumstance, the +glasses through which you have been viewing so varied and wide a landscape +become suddenly very opaque. History is a gallery of pictures so +individually unexpressive that you must know the artist to know their +meaning. Very few men relate with cold precision what occurs daily, so +much are their feelings enlisted; and no less daily experiences are the +recorded events of the past to the man whose days are devoted to them, and +he too must infuse himself into them. He is a Guelph or a Ghibelline, not +a judge of the struggle, wiser by five or six centuries of experience. In +Carlyle's book "that shall be" the "Cromwell," I feel there will be so +much stress laid upon the gravity and prompt, sturdy heroism of the man +that much else will be shoved out of sight. It will be the history of +Cromwell as a strong man, for Carlyle loves strong men; but if there are +other things to be said, we shall not hear so much about them. So in +Emerson's "Napoleon." He commences with saying that Napoleon is the +Incarnate Democrat, the representative of the 19th century, and the +lecture is an illustration of that position, but most comprehensive and +eloquent. + +Let history and great men fade from our sight. Lately I have grown to be a +sad rhymer, and shall end my letter with hints of a life sweeter than +these records of mine. More and more I feel that my wine of letters is +poured by the poets, not handed as cold sherbet by the philosophers. Some +day I may speak more fully upon these things. Meanwhile, secretly and +constantly, I turn over pebble after pebble upon the shore, not uncheered +by the hope that one day a pearl may glitter in my hands. Even this smacks +of history, for Clio had claimed this page. + + LADY JANE GREY + + Meek violet of History! there flows + A modest fragrance from thy maiden fame + Touched with the coolness of the chaste repose + Which broods o'er Plato's name. + + No Wanderer through the dimly arched hall + Which Time has reared between thy date and ours + Meeting thy form, but sees that on its pall + Are broidered Grecian flowers. + + Thy shrinking virgin fame is wed with one + Whose calm celestial teaching was thy King; + When sitting in that cloistered nook alone + Thou heardst the rude shout ring. + + To thee that rabble shout foretold a scene + Of tearful splendor faded in its birth-- + The melancholy mockery of a Queen-- + And virgin dust to earth. + + Ah! Princess of that golden classic hoard, + Thy need was other than an earthly crown; + But ours was such, for else couldst thou have poured + Through time thy pure renown? + + For us thy blood was spilled; the whetted edge + Of that keen axe gave us one jewel more, + As a stream-drifted lily by chance sedge + Is held beside the shore. + + Good-night. Let the remembrance of the + flowers still hold mine fast, and my solemn sweet + Milton shall sing my vespers too. + + May you "move + In perfect Phalanx to the Dorian mood + Of flutes and soft Recorders...." + +Your aff. + +G.W.C. + + +XXV + +CONCORD, _May 3, '45. + +I am weary of these winds, which have blown so constantly through the +spring; and would so gladly exchange their long wail to-night for some of +your music. And yet they are musical, and when I feel vexed at their +persistency they seem to fade and breathe against my face with a low sigh, +like one who shouts a secret which I cannot understand, and then mourns +softly that I cannot. In spite of the wind we went to a new pond near us +(new to us) this afternoon. There we separated, and Burrill went roaming +over the hills and along the shore; and I sat down with Bettine upon the +margin. That is the best workbook that I know. I read it for the first +time in the Brook Farm pine-woods on a still Sunday; but to-day, as I +followed her vanishing steps through Fairyland, the wind that rustled and +raged around was like the tone of her nature interpreting to my heart, +rather than to my mind, what I read. She was intellectual, spiritual more +than poetical. She was such a glancing, dancing, joyous, triumphant child. +I imagine great dark eyes, sparkling to the centre, and heavy locks +overhanging--pine-trees drooping over diamonds, deepest brilliancy, with +splendor, and a low singing sadness like the wind again, for her position +is sad. The ardent, bursting, seeking-ripe girl, and the calm old man, +wise and cold, not harsh. A sense of singular unfitness, a sweet-brier and +an oak, a feeling as if some string in the great harp had slipped from its +harmony, always strikes me when I read Bettine. Will you say no youthful +lover would have inspired such a gush of the tenderest and profoundest +girlishness? But it was no more than the bursting out of an irrepressible +fountain, and it would have flowed as clearly and sweetly through a new +wood conduit of to-day as through the polished golden channel which lay +there for it. She must love, and love the best, and if only the best had +been younger, fitter! Would not the steady massiveness of Goethe's nature +have been splendidly adorned by the arabesques and intricately graceful +woof of Bettine's? Now it was spring flowers on an old brow, with all the +sweetness, but not the freshness, of youth. The imperial Goethe, supreme +in wisdom and age, smelling a violet! Ah! though the flowers and the +laughter and the dance and the sparkle are for the child, but sadly +serious autumnal wreaths for the old man; but the world does the best it +knows how to do with the poets, so did Goethe with his young lover. +Friendly, cool, gentle, never flattering, Bettine asks him half sadly, as +if for once those world-roving eyes were still: Do I speak to you or only +speak in your presence? She answered her question by asking it. + +She speaks much of music. It is beauty impersonized to her; she pours out +gems and flowers of words, and sketches grotesquely exquisite shapes dimly +all over the landscape, coins all the beautiful fancies that crowd her +brain, throws them to Goethe sparkling in the sunlight, and says: This is +music, and finds at last that music is God. That is the most orthodox +Pantheism. + +The year has piloted us into the flowery haven of May, but I lay so +languidly charmed with the beauty, and looking to see if I cannot this +time see the goddess whose smiles I feel, that it will be June and summer +before I know it. I treat the season as I do poetry. Sometimes I dissect a +line which has fascinated me, or a poem, to expose the secret. But it +folds and fades and changes under my glance as a cloud at twilight; and +the beauty of the spring is as elusive as the foam upon a wave. In the +midst of summer, the summer that we anticipated in January seems farther +off. It sinks constantly into itself. The deep solitude of rest, the +murmurous silence of woods at noon, these are as real in winter as when we +are melting in June. The senses will have their share. It is melancholy +that a man with the stomach-ache cannot enjoy Shakespeare; and that this +wild, wayward, glowing, and glorious Bettine must disappear in the Frau +von Arnim, wearing caps and taking snuff, and instead of these pine-trees, +false curls, cut from the last criminal, perhaps, and then croaking and +child-bearing and nursing and diapering! things so beautiful for many, but +not for her. She is not yet a woman, but belongs to us and the woods and +the waters and the midnight. A child singing wonderful songs in the +starlight, serenading with tender, passionate love-songs the old man who +waves his hand and breathes down a kiss which is chilled by the night air, +and falls like a snow-flake into her hot bosom, not as a star upon her +brow. + +We had some May-baskets left for us by unknown hands upon May-day. The +flowers drooped over the sides, as if they would not meet my eye to tell +the secret; but a group of smiling girls next morning were not so +inexorable, and I thanked nature for such almoners of her gifts. These +beautiful tributes are touching if one is serious. They are hung upon our +wall, which is adorned with the Urania and sketches from Michel Angelo, +and one or two drawings of Burrill's. + +Mrs. Brown (Mrs. Emerson's sister) wishes Charles Newcomb to return some +letters he has about little Waldo's death. Will you speak to him and say +that Mrs. Brown will like them by the first opportunity? + +I hope my name is down as a subscriber to the Paper. When shall we see it? +Mr. Emerson read us a part of your letter. + +Here is another of the unconscionable epistles; not to mention answering, +it is too audacious to demand that they shall be read. + +Ever yr + +G.W.C. + + +XXVI + +CONCORD, _May 31, '45, Saturday morning._ + +My dear Friend,--Mr. Hosmer just tells me that he is going to Brook Farm, +and I must say a word of regret that I could not come at this time, as Mr. +Ripley, whom I saw in Boston, asked me to do. I have no doubt that the +essence of all good things which are said, I shall gather from you some +day, somehow. I send my subscription to the Harbinger. Almira is well, and +would send you love and flowers if she knew that Mr. Hosmer was going. + +I am fairly launched in "Consuelo," which I must read as fast as I can, +for Mr. Hedge is to take it to Maine. Already it interests me as a new +life, and, if I could, I would have it developing all summer; but I must +feed upon the remembrance. + +Will you say to Mr. Keith, the postmaster at West Roxbury, that we have +despatched sundry messages to Messrs. Greeley and McElrath to have our +_Tribune_ come to Concord and not to West Roxbury, and that to-day, upon +receipt of his note, we have written a very concise letter upon that +subject to the publishers. + +Tell Mrs. Ripley that she must not fail to come this summer; and how soon +are you coming to have a vacation in civilization?--not a day or two in +winter, but a week for summer rambles. + +Give my love to the Eyrie, for I believe all my friends are there save +Miss Russell; and forgiving me for using you so unsparingly with messages, +believe me always, + +G.W.C. + +If Geo. Wells is or shall be at Brook Farm, tell him that Almira and the +rest of the Concordians are waiting to see him. + + +XXVII + +CONCORD, _June 24th, 1845._ + +My dear Friend,--I finished "Consuelo" some time since, though I have not +yet read the "Countess." I read what you said in the _Harbinger_, and am +waiting for the promised continuation. Meanwhile you shall hear something +of the impression she made upon me. + +Consuelo is a natural, not a pious person. She lives in the world like a +flower, not like a flame; and though you feel that nothing is beyond her, +since beauty and fidelity comprehend all, yet she does not directly +suggest those personal relations with the Invisible which a saint always +does. She sings as a bird, with her whole soul; and though she consents to +relinquish the profession if she marries Albert, you feel very well that +it will not be so. Porhora constantly urges the art upon her attention, +but she grows in that by instinct. She is always in that to which he +exhorts her, and the difference between her life and singing is no more +perceived than in the life and singing of a bird. She is one of the +persons from whom the rules of the art are drawn, because in her they are +so clearly but unconsciously expressed. It is a character which fuses +everything which it attracts to itself, and in whose outline no seam or +crevice is visible. She is entirely impulsive, and every impulse is an +inspiration. She leaves the castle of the Giants as soon as it occurs to +her to do so, and the perfect submission to her impulse indicates the +power and depth of her nature. Therefore, too, though she seems always +right, she is free from all self-discipline. In meeting her one should not +feel especially that she was a good person. She is not virtuous, for she +has no moral struggle; nor pious, for she is too impersonal; and even her +love, at least to the end of "Consuelo," is not a life. Her regard for +Anzoleto you feel will pass. It is a personal relation, necessary among +the flowers and music and moonlight of Venice. It is not the sentiment +which love is to such a nature, nor could Anzoleto ever awaken that. With +Albert it is much the same in another way. The waters do not at once flow +to a level. She is consolation to him, but he is not life and hope to her. +Music is, but she is too human to be satisfied so. A character like hers +is always seeking for its completeness the strengthening sympathy of love, +although its relations are very far from personal. Thus she seems as if +she ought to love Albert, and that she will at last. Her life is too +self-poised and true to allow you a moment's anxiety. The waves of +circumstance roll and break at her feet, and she walks queen-like over the +waters. The characters are grouped around her as friends or courtiers; and +so she preserves the unity of the book as the figures of Jesus in the old +paintings. It is the memoirs of the court of Queen Consuelo. + +As in life such a person would make every scene in which she was an actor +impressive and graceful, so the strong conception of the character makes +the book so. I was thirsting for music when I read it, and it satisfied me +like a strain of the sweetest and best; like a beautiful picture or a +flower, it left nothing to be asked, although suggesting a general and not +an individual beauty and satisfaction like itself. The graceful Venetian +life wrought of song and fragrance fades so suddenly into the sombre +Bohemian forest where the careless girl who dabbles in the water with +Anzoleto becomes the mistress of the destiny of the morbid Albert, and all +shifts again into the clear, vigorous friendship with Hadyn and the sunny +journey where the woman of the castle becomes a girl again, as cheerful +but so much wiser than the Venetian girl, singing and saddening and +sleeping in barns and leaping abbey walls, that it was like lying on a +hillside under the shades and sunlight of the April sky. There is an +indirect developing of the character throughout which is very fine as it +makes the harmonies more intricate and profound. It is like the reflection +of the moon in the water to one who has cast his eyes down from the sky, +as where Hadyn silently conquers the love which she has inspired, because +in her mien and tone he reads her love for another. That is a golden key +to her character. + +It was pleasant just after reading it to make a trip to Wachusett with Mr. +Hawthorne and Mr. Bradford. We had soft, warm weather, and a beautiful +country to pass. From the mountain the prospect was very grand. It is not +too high to make the landscape indistinct, but enough so to throw the line +of the level country on the east back into the misty horizon and so leave +a sea-like impression. To the north was Monadnock, lonely and grim and +cold. A solitary lover he seemed, of the rough Berserkir sort, of the +round and virgin-delicate Wachusett. Towards the northwest the lower part +of the Green mountain range built a misty wall beyond which we could not +have seen had it been away. Nearer were smaller hills and ponds and woods. +On the mountain we found the pink azalia and the white _Patenlila +tridenta_. It was a fine episode in the summer. + +About the 12th of July Burrill and I mean to go into Berkshire, and if +possible to reach the White Mountains before the autumn catches us. This +last is doubtful. But I felt when I came down from Wachusett as if I +should love to go on from mountain to mountain until winter stopped me. + +Last Sunday Father Taylor preached here. All the heretics went to church. +In the evening he preached temperance. After the afternoon service we +tea'd with him at Mr. Emerson's. He is a noble man, truly the Christian +apostle of this time. It is impossible to pin him anywhere. He is like the +horizon, wide around, but impossible to seize. I know no man who thrills +so with life to the very tips, nor is there any one whose eloquence is so +thrilling to me. I have found that one of the best things of living in +Concord is that we have here the types of classes of men and in society +generally only the members of the class. The types are magnetic to each +other and draw each into their vicinity. + +The lonely life pleases as much as ever. If I sometimes say inwardly that +such is not the natural state of man, I contrive to quiet myself by the +assurance that such is the best state For bachelors. What disembodied +comforter of Job suggests such things? + +Yr friend, + +G.W.C. + +P.S. If you loved some one ardently who wonderfully resembled personally +some one you hated ardently what would you do? It is not my case, but a +question some evil genius whispered to make me perspire in these torrid +days. + + +XXVIII + +CONCORD, _Sept. 14, 1845._ + +My dear Friend,--I returned last week from a long and beautiful visit to +the mountains, among which I had never been before. I went in the middle +of July to Berkshire, and returned home for two or three days to set off +for the White Hills, and back again through the length of Berkshire. In +all about seven weeks. The garden served us very well. We had weeded so +faithfully that weeds did not trouble us, and Burrill stayed in Concord a +part of the time I was in New Hampshire. + +When I first came towards the mountains it was twilight, and they looked +very cold and grim; their outline traced against the sky, and seemingly +made of some other material than earth or sky--too dense for the one and +too ethereal for the other. But when I came to them in broad day, they had +lost their terror, as any other night phantom would have done. When I +could scale them with my eye, and stand upon their highest peak, I seemed +to have subdued them. But as I retreated, and looked back, they resumed +their twilight majesty; and I could not realize I had been so proud among +them. Yet, after all, they did not command me as the sea does. The charm +of that is not robbed by being in it or upon it. All night and all day its +murmur sounds an infinite bass to all that is done and said; and in the +night, when you awake, it holds you still in thrall. Like the song of the +locust in a summer noon, which fills the air with music and intensifies +the heat, so the sound of the sea constantly draws thought and life to its +depth and sweetness. Among the hills I was haunted with the vague desire +of some corresponding sound. They were like a dumb Apollo, a thunderless +Jupiter. + +In Berkshire they are less grand than in New Hampshire, but high enough to +cease to be hills, and wooded quite to the summit. They give an endless +variety to the landscape, and are full everywhere of beautiful places and +commanding prospects through the openings. The aspect of the country and +the character of the people were so different from the country and people +near a city, that it seemed to be more recently created. + +Frank Parley is there in Stockbridge, and seems to be very happy. At +Williamstown, the northern town in the county, we saw George Wells. He has +only changed to become more entirely a collegian, but retains the same +cordiality and carelessness that made us love him at Brook Farm. I have so +many things to say about my wanderings that I cannot write any more, for I +mean to come to Brook Farm and see you some day during the autumn. In the +late autumn we are going to New York to pass the winter. + +Give my love to Mrs. Ripley and the Archon, and to the two Charleses, and +believe me, as always, your friend, + +G.W.C. + +On the next page I write a little song, which you shall print if you think +it worth the space. Nameless and dateless if you please. + + AUTUMN SONG + + The gold corn in the field + And the asters in the meadow, + And the heavy clouds that yield + To the hills a crown of shadow, + Mark the ending of the Summer, + And the Autumn coming in, + A crimson-eyed new-comer, + Whose voice is cold and thin, + As he whispers to the flowers, + "Lo, all this time is ours." + + I remember, long ago, + When the soft June days were wasted, + That the Autumn and the snow + In the after-heats were tasted; + For the sultry August weather + Burned the freshness from the trees, + And the woods and I, together, + Mourned the Winter, that must freeze + The silver singing streams + Which fed our Summer dreams. + + Through the yellow afternoon + Rolls the wagon harvest-laden, + And beneath the harvest moon + At the husking sings the maiden; + While without the winds are flowing + Like long aerial waves, + And their scythe-sharp breath is mowing + The flowers upon the graves. + When the husking is all o'er + The maiden sings no more. + + To ---- + + Thy spirit was a flexile harp, whereon + The moonlight fell like delicatest air, + Thro' thee its beauty flowing into tone + Which charmed the silence with a sound as rare. + + Thou peaceful maid! the music then I heard, + Whose influence had moulded thy soft eyes + To their deep tone of tenderness: O! bird, + Whose life is fed with thine own melodies. + + +XXIX + +CONCORD, _Oct. 25, 1845._ + +My dear Friend,--My Concord days are numbered, but before I go I should +like to write you again, although it is not impossible that I may come +here again next year. The autumn since I saw you has fulfilled the promise +of the day I left Brook Farm--bright, clear, and cool. On Wednesday, the +day was so remarkably beautiful that, having nothing especial to do, and +seeing that Ole Bull was to give another concert, we walked to Boston and +heard him once more, I fear for the last time; and walked back again the +next morning. The air was very still and bright, and cold enough to spur +us on, without an unpleasant chill. + +I was very glad to part with Ole Bull having my first impressions deepened +and strengthened. The wonder with which I heard him in New York had +subsided, and I gave myself, or rather he drew me, wholly to his music. It +seems as if he improvised with the orchestra as a poet would at the piano. +The music is full of every sort of movement and variety, but has great +unity of character, and constantly suggests beautiful and distinct images +rather than pictures. I thought of glorious young gladiators leaping into +the lists, of fleecy clouds sweeping over starlight skies, and the +beach-line of the sea. Every image was of the graceful, vigorous, and +entirely healthy character of his person, which I suppose is only a fair +expression of his soul. The music should not be criticised as a work of +art, but only as the articulate reveries of Genius, for it is such as only +he should play, because it is so entirely individual. It is full of +delicate tenderness, and each piece is much like a gentle, strong child +wandering in Fairyland, melted now by the sweets of child-deep piety in +the Adagio Religioso, now leaping down the Polacca Guerricra like a young +angel down a ladder from heaven, and roaming wistful and silent and amazed +in the solitude of the Prairie, at times leaping and running and shouting, +and then sighing and weeping and losing its voice in aerial cadences, +until the smiles make rainbows through the tears again. + +All these things whirled through my mind as I sat listening to him, with +my eyes closed to preserve the realm of vision unassailed, last Saturday +evening. But there is no end to such stuff. Music is so fully suggestive; +and, after all, if you abandon yourself to that you are very apt to find +yourself only among corresponding images. The adagio of the Fifth Symphony +reminds me in one part of majestic waves, black and crowned with creamy +foam; and they swell as if the whole sound of the ocean thundered in each, +and when they have almost gained a height through which the sun may shine +and reveal the long-haired mermaids, and the splendid colors which hide so +much, then they fall upon themselves and stream backward into the sea, the +foam uppermost like a shroud. But when I considered this one evening I +found it was only the image of the sound transformed to a visible object. +It is like watching the clouds and seeing their palaces and mountains. It +is easy to sport with the symbol, and shows the greatness of the composer +when he arouses the thought of the sea and sky for an echo; but that is +only the sensuous influence of his music, and further we cannot go in +words, for good music is so because it is inexpressible in words. There is +always correspondence but not identity. And the impression of the same +object in a poem, painting, or statue should be as different as the +different necessities which constituted those arts and the differing +direction of the various genius which so expresses itself. + +Ole Bull's last concert (that I heard) was a cheap one, and the audience +was very cheap. I felt at once the want of sympathy between that and him, +and that destroyed the unity of the impression, which is so pleasant. The +music which he played was of the best and played in the best way, but was +played apart from the sympathy of the hearers to the soul of his art. When +he was encored he came and showed his mastery of the violin as a juggler +his power over cards. I should have been sorry to have seen it in any one +but a true artist; but while he satisfied every just claim in the style +and selection of the music of the concert, he permitted the rabble to hear +what they had paid fifty cents to hear. He could not be accused of +lowering or pampering the popular taste, for the music that he played was +elevating, and the gymnastics not music at all. + +I was glad to see Mrs. Ripley last Monday, and to hear from her the result +of your Sunday meeting. I was a little sceptical, because I think +permanent forms of worship spring from a very deep piety, and the pious +persons whom I know I could count on my hands. Such themes are too good +for heel-taps to a letter, and I shall wait the issue of your movement +with a great deal of interest. Give my love to Mrs. Ripley, and tell her I +hope the whole winter will not pass without my hearing from her. + +I feel sorry to go from Concord, which we shall do in about a fortnight, +for it is a quiet place, full of good people and pleasant spots. But I +have found the same everywhere, so + + "To-morrow to fresh woods and pastures new." + +Your friend, + +G.W.C. + + +XXX + +NEW YORK, _December 22, 1845._ + +A merry Christmas and happy New Year to you, if you are still alive, for +since small-pox has joined your Phalanx I am not sure but his ambition for +the supreme power has swept you all away. Yet every Saturday's _Harbinger_ +is a missive from Brook Farm which tells of other things than the +cosmogonies, etc., of which it ostensibly discourses. I shall be glad to +smuggle myself in for a share of the commendation bestowed upon those who +have increased your list with the new volume, but my New York friends are +pale at Greeley's _Tribune_, and would christen your sheet "An Omen Ill" +instead of _Harbinger_. + +Individually I am grateful for your article upon De Meyer. It gives me an +idea of his exhilarating impression, which I had dimly supposed from what +I heard of him. I wait eagerly for his reappearance here, and cannot +discover why he tarries so long in Boston. Privately I have heard very +much good music since I have been here, mainly Mendelssohn and Spohr, with +singing of Schubert and "Adelaide," etc. Publicly I have heard Huber, the +German opera, and Mendelssohn's "St. Paul," a rich, melodious oratorio, +squeezing the utmost drop from the power of the orchestra, and uniform at +a point of the most luminous delicacy, refinement, and grace. I missed the +heavy choruses of the Handel and Haydn, for, particularly, "Stone him to +death," and "Lovely are the messengers," and "Oh, be gracious, ye +Immortals" are magnificent. From what I have heard I prefer Mendelssohn to +Spohr, as being the most original and luxuriant genius, although I hear +that I shall not maintain that opinion when I have heard Spohr more. + +Rossini and Donizetti are the Musical Gods here; now and then you meet a +person who really loves what is better, but in mixed societies and at all +concerts, particularly in fashionable circles, where music is a fashion +now, the merest exercises for the voice and the fingers elicit the +most--rapturous bravoes and tapping of white gloves. Last evening I was at +one of my musical friends', who, with another girl, plays the symphonies, +etc., and is a most wonderful performer. She has the grand-piano which +Miss Gserty (?) owned. For an hour we had the "Fingal's Cave," Schubert's +"Wanderer" by Liszt, and Quatuors of Spohr; then entered "our fashionable +friends" (for my musical lady is in such a sphere), and songs from +Donizetti's operas and Thalberg's "Moses in Egypt," and the "Marche +Maracaire," which seems nothing or very little without De Meyer, followed; +and two mortal hours of such followed. I am always a little angry that my +friends don't do something better on such occasions; but why cast pearls +before swine? Yet I have no right to complain. They willingly play good +music when they have good listeners. + +Literature I serve quite faithfully. I have read the "Aminta," and am deep +in "Hell." In German I am reading the second part of "Faust," with scraps +from Novalis. English reading is Swedenborg and "Festus" and "Cromwell," +with dips into the dramatists. I am sorry such good men have no better +reader at this present, but trust they find some somewhere. The weather is +vile. We are pinched with "nipping" airs which do not remain clear and +steady, but unbend themselves in a dirty slush called snow in the papers. +And just now I have no business to write you a letter, for I am torn every +way by longings and doubts, not at all of a moral nature. This copy of +verses, written last summer, is somewhat harmonious with my present mood, +and shall be printed if you approve. + +I have seen Cranch several times, and his pictures. Some I like very much, +but they have his faults. I went with him to the Art Union Gallery the +other day, and some beautiful landscapes that I saw of his and others made +my heart "babble of green fields" to itself for some days afterwards. One +does not fully realize the value of art until he is in the city, as away +from home you realize the worth of a mother's portrait. A great charm of a +picture-gallery is the perfect stillness which belongs to the paintings, +and which they suggest. My overcoat seemed superfluous, for I was full of +sultry noontide feeling, gathered not from any special picture, but the +atmosphere of so many portraits of trees and waters and hills. + +In New York I feel how life is a glorious opportunity wasted. A halo seems +forever to float over our heads everywhere, even on the tips of the hair, +which might crown us with glory and honor; but no man is yet crowned. The +richest and grandest music of the world is hitherto in a minor key. But, +indeed, every sigh is a waste of so much energy that I try to turn my +stone towards the erection of the infinite temple without grieving that it +was not long since built. I used to despise justice as a shabby virtue, +but now it seems to me the only lack. We are unjust in our treatment and +in our opinion of persons. In the first we are too sweet, in the last too +severe. For we eternally measure men by a standard suggested by our +individuality, instead of sympathizing so fully that we stretch them on +their own line. But here of all places there can be no sham. If we are not +just in our own thought we cannot pretend to be, since only we are the +persons concerned, and no man ever cheated himself. + +I should be very glad to hear from you, for, knowing how busy you are, I +have learned to value your letters. Remember me most kindly to Mrs. +Ripley, and believe me always Yr friend, + +G.W.C. + + DIRGE + + Time laid within an early grave + Those hopes, so delicate and sweet, + I wondered not I could not save, + But that they did sooner fleet. + + Life has its fading summer dream, + Its hope is crowned with one full hour, + And yet its best deservings seem + Buds all unworthy such a flower. + + How well that happy hour is bought + By an after-life of sorrow! + The golden sunset yields a thought + Which adorns the dreary morrow. + + We meet no more as we have met; + Thy heart made music once with mine, + Which now is still, and we forget + The art that made our youth divine. + + One glance reaps beauty, nevermore + It wears a lustre as at first; + We come again--the harvest o'er + To no new flow'ring can be nursed. + + +XXXI + +N.Y., _April 12th, 1846._ + +My dear Friend,--I meant to have given you some verses when you were here +as you asked, but I forgot it. Now I send this. It is so different from +Wentworth Higginson's that I do not feel as if the same road had been run +over by us[1]. And as each Phalanx will be a centre of innumerable +railroads in the age of harmony, why not its paper of paper railroads now? +This was written in Concord some time since. + +[Footnote 1: This refers to a poem by T.W. Higginson with the same title, +which had been printed in the _Harbinger,_ a few weeks previously.] + +Since you went I have done little but study French and Italian. We meet +Cranch, and his wife of course, three times a week at that, and I drop +into his studio now and then. To-day I was there, and he was hard at work +upon a sunset composition, which he hopes to finish for the exhibition of +the Boston Athenaeum. He has sent the large landscape, "The Summer +Shower," and "The Old Mill with the Bridge and Ducks," to the National +Academy, which exhibition opens this week. He has sold one in Washington +to a member of Congress for $100, and if he can continue to improve as +rapidly as he has for a year or two past he will be a fine painter. + +These soft, gushing spring days make me yearn for the country. I shall +hope to be emancipated from Masters and Mistresses by the first or middle +of May and take my place with the other cattle in the pastures. When I do +not exactly know. Let me hear from you and about the Farm and its +prospects. Burrill's eyes have given out again. He is bound head and foot, +for his ankle has a habit of breaking down occasionally. Rest and warm +weather and the country may strengthen them all. Give my love + + "und vergiss nicht euer treur," + +G.W.C. + + THE RAILROAD + + A bright November day. The morning light + Shone through the city's mist against my eyes, + Soft, chiding them from sleep. Unfolding them + They raised their lids and--gave me a new day. + + A day not freshly breaking on the fields, + And waking with a morning kiss the streams + That slept beneath the vapor, but on streets, + Piles of great majesty and human skill, + Stone veins where human passion swiftly runs. + Thereon I gazed with tenderness and awe, + Remembering the heavy debt I owed + To the dim arches of the dingy bricks, + Which sternly smiled upon my youngest years + And gravely greeted now, as through the crowd + By all unknown and knowing none, I passed. + + The warning whistle thrilled the misty air, + And stately forth we rode into the morn, + Subduing airy distance silently; + The shadow glided by us on the grass, + The sole companion of our lonely speed, + And all the landscape changing as we went, + A shifting picture, of like hues and forms + But ever various, trees, rocks, and hills, + Rising sublime and stretching pastoral-- + How like a noble countenance which shows + Endless expression and eternal charm. + + I leaned against the window as we went. + And saw the city mist recede afar, + And lost the busy hum which haunts the mind + As a voice inarticulate, the tone + Of many men whose mouths speak distinct words + Which blend in grim confusion, till the sound + Like a vague aspiration climbs the sky. + The muffled murmur of the iron wheels, + And the sharp tinkle of the hurried bell, + And a few words between were all the sounds + Which peopled that else silent morning air. + + A busy city darting o'er the plains + Across the turnpikes and through hawthorne lanes, + O'er wide morasses and profound ravines-- + Through stately woods where red deer only run, + And grassy lawn and farmer's planted field-- + Was that swift train that flashed along the hills, + And smoked through sloping valleys, and surprised + The mild-eyed milk-maid with her morning pail. + + I dreamed my dreams until the village lay + White in the morning light, and holding up + Its modest steeples in the crystal air. + A moment, and the picture changed no more, + But wore a serious constancy and showed + Its bare-boughed trees immovable. I rose, + And stepping from the train, it glided on, + Sweeping around the hill; the whistle shrill + Rang through the stricken air. A moment more + It rolled along the iron out of sight. + + +XXXII + +NEW YORK, _Thursday, May 14th, 1846._ + +My dear Friend,--You will of course have supposed that I did not receive +your letter of the 2d May, or it would have been more promptly answered. +On that very day I responded to a most urgent invitation from Mrs. Cranch +to go up the river and make a visit with Burrill, at her father's house +upon the Hudson. I have only returned to-day, and hasten to send you this, +bidding you to come, for the Choral Symphony is to be played, and there +are to be various preparatory rehearsals of the orchestra and the chorus. +This I know from the papers, but I will to-morrow inquire of Herr Timm the +particulars of the concert. If I had not thought of remaining I would +certainly do so if you will come. I am only sorry that there is no room +fit for such a performance; it will be hard to get far enough away. +Immediately that I have ascertained what particulars are ascertainable I +will write again, although you must not wait for that, but come as soon as +you can. + +And now, what shall I say to you of the serene, sparkling splendors of the +Spring which upon the Hudson have been flowing around me, so that my few +days swelled into a fortnight almost, consecrated like a long song to +romance and beauty. The tender young green upon the riversides and upon +the mountains behind, which receive into their deep, dark mass of foliage +the light, golden, smooth, colored fields which rise backward from the +ample river, and (at Mr. Downing's at Newburg, opposite, a brother-in-law, +and the author of fruit treatises, etc.) the splendid magnolias, which +resemble deepest-dyed beakers, whence the fragrance arose almost palpable, +it was so strong and sweet, and I looked to see rainbow-colored clouds +floating from out the flowers--these, with the white blossoms of the +orchards and the spray-like, snowy beauty of the Dogwood; in the early +morning the sunlight, streaming down the mountains into the bosom of the +river, kisses flashing and fiery, yet most gentle and tender, and at night +the round moon, rising suddenly, almost without any preluding splendor +over the same line of hills, and threw a yellow brightness all over the +landscape like the throbbing heart of the night whose life is mysterious +beauty fed by that mysterious light. What could I do but roam and wonder +and smile and sing in the moonlight till midnight sent me to lie in a bed +whence I looked out from under the plain white curtains through the +branches of the trees without upon the sleeping river so wide and deep and +still, and the line of hills fading in the night beyond. It was one of +those seeds whose flower does not come at once, but which will show a +tinge of Spring beauty wherever it unfolds. How have I earned the +privilege of such enchantment, and is there not some condition of fairy +which I do not yet see, but which some day must be paid? + +The city is hot and hard after those fields and mountains, yet there are +sweet smiles here, and I found three letters from friends, which was a +fine welcome. Mrs. Dunlap and her sister are here, and I shall hear some +singing; but they can give no music like the panorama I have seen. I have +been choking all day, as I always do when I leave any place or person that +is specially beautiful. When I am in the midst of the greatest beauty I +remind myself that it is so, but I do not seem to touch the very heart; +but when I have left it behind then its heart overflows itself in the +remembrance, and so the past becomes more beautiful than any possible +present, as when you would see a distant, almost indistinct, star you must +look just at one side and not directly upon the object. The present must +be as really worthy, but time and distance have a character of their own +which they impart to all circumstances, as distance in space makes green +and rugged mountains soft and purple like the hue of a fruit. + +I long to leave the city, but I shall yet stay some time, for I shall not +see my Father and Mother much during the Summer, and we shall sail +probably by the first of August. Perhaps I can arrange so as to return +with you if you come. I meant to have passed two or three days at Brook +Farm. I could write till you were tired, but I have no time or paper. +Cranch is well and sketching. He says something of coming to Boston during +the Summer. Come immediately, and believe me as ever, + +G.W.C. + + +XXXIII + +NEW YORK, _Saturday, May 16, '46._ + +My dear Friend,--I learn from Mr. Timm that the concert will take place at +the Castle Garden, a spacious enclosure adjoining the Battery. The Choral +Symphony, the overtures to "Der Freischutz" and "The Midsummer-Night's +Dream," Rico's singing, Burke's playing, and De Meyer's, if he is in town, +will make up the bill. The rehearsals of the chorus and orchestra are +separate until the night before (I believe); and the Symphony is found so +difficult that they almost repent having undertaken it. I suppose there +would be no difficulty in your getting to the rehearsals through some of +your friends, as you did before. The orchestra is to consist of 150 and +the chorus of 300 or 400 persons. "The Desert" is to be played for the +fifth time on Monday evening. Trinity Church is to be consecrated on +Thursday, the day after the concert, and Pico will doubtless sing +somewhere during the week. I heard her and Julia Northall last evening in +"The Messiah." Their voices were glorious. After the "Pastoral Symphony" +the clear, rich, sunny voice of Miss Northall in the recitative "While +Shepherds watched," etc., was most fitting and beautiful. It was a soft +stream of pearly light, as the hope of Christ was upon the darkness of his +time. Pico sang, "I know that my Redeemer liveth," simply and sweetly, and +was obliged to repeat it. The choruses were weak; they did not smite +steadily upon the ear, but wavered, ghost-like, through the great +tabernacle. The "Hallelujah" seemed to awaken the singers, and there was +some tolerable body in that. + +I heard Walker at his room with the greatest delight. He is so delicately +feminine that I felt with him as with a splendid woman in whose nature you +do not feel the want of masculine elements, since there is strength enough +in a feminine way; with Rakemann I always feel the man with the womanly +tenderness and sweetness which belongs to a real man. It was very pleasant +to feel such a harmonious difference, as when you see a beautiful man and +wife. + +This being anniversary week, the Unitarians have been holding meetings and +discussions. I do not feel impressed by them very much, they stand in such +a negative position, "one stocking off and the other stocking on." + +At Isaac's request I have been reading the life of the founder of his +order, St. Alphonse of Liguori. He was a very pious man, and the Church +was very jealous of him. It is a painful book to read, for the Catholic +Church seems to use heaven as a weapon whereby to conquer the earth. I +have not yet written Isaac, as he wanted me to read the book first; but if +his promised prayers fall as short as the history, I shall be delivered +incontinently to the buffetings of Satan. + +I hope this will not find you at Brook Farm, for it cannot reach there +until Monday; the concert is on Wednesday, if it is pleasant. Charles +Newcomb and his mother are here. + +Yours ever, + +G.W.C. + + +XXXIV + +CONCORD, _June 6, 1846._ + +My dear Friend,--I send you some verses for the Harbinger, which are not a +conceit, although they relate to no actual personal experience except that +I am sometimes conscious of the main fact, for my dreams do sometimes so +surpass the waking reality that the charm of the suggesting person, if not +lost, is indefinitely subdued and postponed. It is very pleasant here at +Minot's. The family are still, the household goes smoothly on, and we live +in a house 150 years old, under a tree of apparently almost equal age and +looking across a green meadow to a clump of pines and birches beyond. The +scenery in Concord is very gentle but pleasant. I have become attached to +it as to a taciturn friend who has no splendid bursts of passion but wears +always a soft smile. + +All the morning we are busy working, and in the afternoons I have been +reading Goethe's "Rome." It is very fine, and full of wisdom and beauty. +His thoughts are clear and just and profound, and he looks on every side. +He was so ready for Italy, too, as the home of art--he a lover and student +of art, an artist by nature, and always too much a man. But Goethe, though +he is constantly a wise friend, is never a lover. You could not take him +always, personally, as the companion of your rambles, your jokes, your +silence and sorrows. I think of several persons among those I know, who +are by no means lights upon a hill, whom I should select as companions for +a journey rather than him. In Rome one would wish to see him as he would +Jupiter, and hear all his simple, grave, and catholic discourse; but has +he that ineffable and inexplicable human delicacy and sympathy which is +worth so much more in a man, as the innocence of the dove is than the +wisdom of the serpent. And yet, in the "Elective Affinities," does he not +show all that one could wish? But why should he be haunted by the thought +that he does not have it and think of particular things to prove it, +except that he does not have it? It is like feeling the beauty of single +lines which a man writes without being impressed by the whole poem that he +is a poet. + +I had yesterday a long letter from Cranch and his wife. They are now in +Washington, and are enjoying the same June weather that we have here. They +have a peculiar interest to me as those who are to take the leap into the +ocean whence we do not know whether we shall emerge upon some fairy island +or upon desolate rocks or shall sink forever deeper and deeper in the +sea-caves where the mermaids are. For a residence in Italy is certainly, +in its entire uncertainty, in its new enclosures of circumstances and +influences, like leaping into an unknown sea. It is a lover's leap, +however, and love is beyond the hopes or arrangements of wisdom. + +The Concordians are all well. I feel a pang in going to-night to take +leave of Elizabeth Hoar, who is going away for several weeks, and who will +not return until after I have left Concord. She seems to me one who may at +any moment become invisible, like a pure flame. Almira is well, and sends +love to you. She hopes you will come and make her a visit during the +summer, and I hope it may be made in June, as I shall go away by the 1st +of July, and move by slow stages towards New York. The summer will fly by +on swift wings, and more beautiful than those of a gorgeous butterfly +which we examined today; it flitted away among the dark pines, as the +summer will disappear in the shadowy pines of autumn, so grave and at last +solemn. + +I hope this late afternoon is as beautiful with you as it is here. + +Your friend, + +G.W.C. + + DESTINY + + That dream was life, but waking came, + Dead silence after living speech, + Cold darkness after golden flame, + And now in vain I seek to reach, + In thought that radiant delight + Which girt me with a splendid night. + + No art can bring again to me + Thy figure's grace, lithe-limbed by sleep; + No echo drank the melody + An after-festival to keep + With me, and memory from that place + Glides outward with averted face. + + I loved thy beauty as a gleam + Of a sweet soul by beauty nursed, + But the strange splendor of that dream + All other loves and hopes has cursed-- + One ray of the serenest star + Is dearer than all diamonds are. + + Yet would I give my love of thee, + If thus of thee I had not dreamed, + Nor known that in thine eyes might be + What never on my waking gleamed, + For Night had then not swept away + The possibilities of Day. + + For had my love of thee been less, + Still of my life thou hadst been queen, + And that imperial loveliness + Hinted by thee I had not seen; + Yet proudly shall that love expire + The spark of dawn in morning's fire. + + How was it that we loved so well, + From love's excess to such sweet woe, + Such bitter honey--for will swell + Across my grief that visioned glow + Which steals the soul of grief away + As sunlight soothes a wintry day. + + And so we part, who are to each + The only one the earth can give. + How vainly words will strive to reach + Why we together may not live, + When barely thought can learn to know + The depth of this sublimest woe. + + +XXXV + +CONCORD, _June 29, '46._ + +My dear Friend,--I had hoped that you would have come to Concord +yesterday, because to-morrow early I leave, and shall be here only one day +more, towards the close of the next week. I had not expected to have gone +so soon, but I shall accompany a sick friend to Saratoga by slow stages, +and, returning to Worcester, make a short visit among my kindred there, +and then return to Concord to take my final departure. I shall try to +secure some day about that time to come to Brook Farm, if only to say +farewell to you; but just now I cannot specify the day. + +My trip to Monadnock was very beautiful. The minister, Jno. Brown, is the +same Brook Farmer in a black coat; and I enjoyed a few days at his house +exceedingly. I wrote a long journal while there, and cannot say anything +about it here, therefore. + +This afternoon I have answered Isaac's letter which I received during the +winter. With great modesty I attempted to show him how, in the nature of +things, proselyting was hopeless, at least upon any who are really worth +converting. But the tone, like my feeling, was friendly and gentle. If it +does not change his course towards me, he will better understand my +feeling and position, for I told him that in men of his nature and +tendency the zeal of proselytism is a part of the fervor of sentiment, and +therefore I expected and willingly accepted his exhortations, and only +deplored them as a loss of time and misuse of opportunities of +communication. The Roman Church was such an unavoidable goal for Isaac +that one who knows him well cannot possibly grieve to see him prostrate +before the altar, and ought to understand and anticipate what was called +his arrogance, which is a necessary portion of the sentiment and position. + +The review of Mr. Hawthorne's book in the last _Harbinger_ is delicately +appreciative. The introductory chapter is one of the softest, clearest +pictures I know in literature. His feeling is so deep, and so +unexaggerated, that it is a profoundly subtle interpreter of life to him, +and the pensiveness which throws such a mellow sombreness upon his +imagination is only the pensiveness which is the shadow of extreme beauty. +There is no companion superior to him in genial sympathy with human +feeling. He seems to me no less a successful man than Mr. Emerson, +although at the opposite end of the village. + +For a week or two, if you write, continue to address me at Concord, and +believe me, in constant unitary feeling, + +Your friend, + +G.W.C. + + +XXXVI + +CONCORD, _July 14th, '46, Sunday night._ + +My dear Friend,--I have just returned from Almira's, who sends her love, +and will be very happy to see you. I have written Mr. Hawthorne to go to +Monadnock with me this week, but I suppose his duties will prevent. If I +go I shall probably return before Sunday, as that is John Brown's working +day, and we shall stay with him. + +The night was glorious as I came from Almira's. The late summer twilight +held the stars at bay; and in the meadows the fire-flies were flitting +everywhere. Suddenly in the north, directly before me, began the flashings +of the aurora--piles of splendor, a celestial colonnade to the invisible +palace. It is a fitting close for a day so soft and beautiful. We took a +long sauntering walk this morning and found the mountain laurel, which is +very rare here. + +I have been busy all my afternoons reading Roman history. Niebuhr and +Arnold are fine historians. They are such wise, sincere men and scholars. +I sit at the western door of the barn, looking across a meadow and +rye-field to a group of pines beyond. My eye fixes upon some point in the +landscape which constantly grows more beautiful, winning my eyes from the +rest, until they gradually slide along, finding each as pleasant until the +whole has a separate and individual beauty like a fall whose expressions +you know intimately. It is a "Summer of Summers," as Lizzie Curzon writes +me, and I am glad that my last hours in my own country will be so +consecrated by beauty in my memory. + +Burrill goes again to the Hudson to see Mr. Downing on Thursday. He will +remain a week, I suppose, and go again to New York in August, when I sail. + +Let me have my answer in person, for so short and poor a letter does not +deserve the exclusive attention of writing. + +Remember me kindly to all at Brook Farm, to Wm. Channing particularly, if +he is there. + +Your friend ever, + +G.W.C. + + +XXXVII + +CONCORD, _July 13th, 1846._ + +My dear Friend,--It is a miserable piece of business to say my farewell to +this blank sheet and send it to you, instead of having you say good-bye to +my blank face. But, unless you can come to Ida's on Wednesday or Thursday, +it must be so. A sudden trip to Saratoga has deranged my plans. + +Will you now send my copy of the _Harbinger_ to Almira? + +We have been too happy together in times past and mean to be so so much +more, here or somewhere, that we will not be very serious in our +farewells, for we have been as far apart since I left you as we shall be +when you are at Brook Farm and I at Palmyra. So good-bye, whether for two +or three years, or an indefinite period. When we see each other again we +shall _meet_, for our friendship has been of a fine gold which the moth +and rust of years cannot corrupt. + +Will you give my love and say good-bye to Mr. and Mrs. Ripley and my other +friends with you? and remember, as he deserves, + +Your friend, + +G.W.C. + + +XXXVIII + +MILTON HILL, _Midnight, July 16, '46._ + +My dear Friend,--I could not come this evening, and shall only have time +in the morning to go to Boston and take the cars; so we must part so. I +will copy some of my verses for you if I can steal the time, and write you +from Europe if David Jones permits me to arrive. + +I must say good-bye and good-night in some lines of Burns's which haunt me +at this time, though they have no appropriateness; but they have a +speechless woe of farewell, like a wailing wind: + + "Had we never loved sae kindly, + Had we never loved sae blindly, + Never met or never parted, + We had never been broken hearted." + +Yr friend + +G.W.C. + +I shall write you again. Will you give this to Jno. Cheever? I have no +wafer. + + +XXXIX + +FORT HAMILTON, LONG ISLAND, _July 30, '46._ + +My dear Friend,--It is very shabby, but I have been so unexpectedly and +constantly separated from my manuscripts that I cannot copy, as I hoped, +some of my verses. I have but one more day on land, and more than I can +well do in it. + +Could you hear how the sea moans and roars in the moonlight at this +moment, it would be a siren song to draw you far away. I strain my eyes +over the water as one struggles to comprehend the end of life, but the +beauty of the future lies unseen and untouched. + +God bless you always, my dear Friend; and do not fail to write me often. + +Affly. yr friend, + +G.W.C. + + +XL + +ROME, _November 22d, 1846._ + +My dear Friend,--Italy is no fable, and the wonderful depth of purity in +the air and blue in the sky constantly makes real all the hopes of our +American imagination. Sometimes the sky is an intensely blue and distant +arch, and sometimes it melts in the sunlight and lies pale and rare and +delicate upon the eye, so that one feels that he is breathing the sky and +moving in it. The memory of a week is full of pictures of this atmospheric +beauty. I looked from a lofty balcony at the Vatican upon broad gardens +lustrously green with evergreen and box and orange trees, in whose dusk +gleamed the large planets of golden fruit. Palms, and the rich, rounding +tuft of Italian pines, and the solemn shafts of cypresses, stood beside +fountains which spouted rainbows into the air, which was silver-clear and +transparent, and on which the outline of the landscape was drawn as +vividly as a flame against the sky at night. Beside me rose floating into +the air the dome of St. Peter's, which is not a nucleus of the city, like +the Duomo of Florence, but a crown more majestic and imposing as the +spectator is farther removed. I had come to this balcony and its realm of +sunny silence through the proper palace of the "Apollo" and the "Laocoon" +and Raphael's "Transfiguration" and "Stanze." The Vatican is a wilderness +of art and association, and in the allotted three hours I could only +wander through the stately labyrinth and arrange the rooms, but not their +contents, in my mind, but could not escape the "Apollo," which stands +alone in a small cabinet opening upon a garden and fountain. It was +greater to me than the "Venus de Medici" at Florence, although it has +taught me better to appreciate that when I see it again. It is cold and +pure and vast, the imagination of a man in the Divine Mind, given to +marble because flesh was too recreant a material. The air of the statue is +proudly commanding, with disdain that is not human, and a quiet +consciousness of power. It does not resemble any figure we see of a man +who has drawn a bow, but the ideal of a man in action. Like the "Venus," +it shows how entire was the possible abstraction of the old Sculptors into +a region of pure form as an expression of what was beyond human passion, +with which color seems to correspond. Deities are properly the subject of +sculpture because of color; colorless purity of marble accords with the +divine superiority to human passion, and although the mythology degraded +the gods into the sphere and influence of men, to the mind of the artist +they would still sit upon unstained thrones. + +This was one day. Upon another I stepped from a lovely road upon the +Aventine into an old garden where, at the end of a long, lofty, and narrow +alley of trimmed evergreens, stood the Dome of St. Peter's filling the +vista against an afternoon sky. In these mossy and silent old places, the +trees and plants seem to have sucked their vigor from the sun and soil of +many long-gone centuries, and to remain ghosts of themselves and hoary +reminiscences of their day in the soft splendor of modern light. Italy +itself is that garden wherein everything hands you to the past, and stands +dim-eyed towards the future. It is a vast university, endowed by the past +with the choicest treasures of art, to which come crowds from all nations, +as lovers and dreamers and students, who may be won to live among relics +so dear, but who mostly return to stand as interpreters of the beauty they +have seen. Therefore, Italy is a theme which cannot grow old, as love and +beauty cannot. Every book should be a work of art, and Italy, like the +Madonna, should have a fresh beauty in the hands of every new artist. It +is no longer interesting, statistically, for the names and numbers have +been told often enough; but the impression which it leaves upon the mind +of men of character and taste is the picture which should be novel and +interesting. + +But it is the relics of the summer prime of the Rome of distant scholars +and lovers, and the art which shines with an Indian-summer softness in the +autumn of its decay, that rule here yet; for the imperial days have +breathed a spirit into the air which broods over the city still. Although +it is a modern capital, with noise and dirt and smells and nobility and +fashionable drives, and walks and shops, and the red splendor of lacquered +cardinals, and the triple-crowned Pope, in the arches which rise over +modern chapels and of which they are built, in the ruined forum and +acqueducts and baths and walls, are the decayed features of what was once +greatest in this world, and which rules it from its grave. My first view +of old Rome was in the moonlight. We passed through the silent Forum, not +on the level of the ancient city, which recoils from modern footsteps and +goes downward towards the dust of those who made it famous, but by the +ruined temples and columns whose rent seams were shaped anew into graceful +perfection by the magical light, by the wilderness of the ruined Caesar's +palace, until we looked wonderingly into the intricacy of arch and +corridor and column of which was built the arch-temple of Paganism, the +Coliseum. The moonlight silvered the broad spaces of scornful silence as +if Fate mused mournfully upon the work it must needs do. Grass and flowers +in their luxuriant prime waved where the heads of Roman beauties nodded in +theirs; and yet how true to the instincts of their nature were the Romans, +who nourished by their recreations the stern will which had won the world +for them. And since literature and art and science depend in a certain +measure for their development and perfection upon a strong government, the +same Roman beauty, in dooming to a bloody death before her eyes the man +upon whose life depended other and far-away beauties and loves, may have +breathed a sweeter strain into the song of the poet. The Popes have not +refrained from obtruding a cross and shrines upon this defenceless ruin. +They would not render unto Caesar the things which were his, and although +they are shocking at first, the magnificence of silence and decay soon +swallows them, and they appear no more except as emblems of modern Rome +lost in the broad desolation of the imperial city. + +One cannot see the present Pope without a hope for Italy. I first saw him +at high mass, with the cardinals, in the Palace chapel. The college of +cardinals resembled a political and not a religious body, which, although +the council of government, it ought to resemble upon religious occasions. +When the Pope entered they kissed his hand through his mantle. He is a +noble-looking man, of a dignified and graceful presence, and already very +dear to the people for what he has done and what he has promised. I could +not look at him without sadness as a man sequestered in splendor and +removed from the small sympathies in which lies the mass of human +happiness. The service seemed a worship of him, but no homage could +recompense a man for what a Pope had lost. I have seen him often since, +and his demeanor is always marked by the same air of lofty independence. +It is good to see him appear equal to a position so solitary and so +commanding, and to indicate this vigor of life and the conscience which +would prevent him from making his seclusion a bower for his own ease. + +From one of these wonderful days passed in the Villa Borghese, a spacious +estate near the city, equally charming for its nature and art, I went, a +day or two since, to watch by the deathbed of a young American. Hicks (a +young artist, whom I love and whom the MacDaniels will know) and myself +stood by him and closed his eyes. He was without immediate friends, except +a connection by marriage who has recently arrived, and who was with him at +the last. I was glad that I was here to be with him and lay him decently +in his coffin. The handful of Americans in Rome followed him last evening +at dusk, close by twilight, and buried him in the Protestant graveyard, +near the grave of Shelley's ashes and heart. The roses were in full +blossom, as Shelley says they used to be in midwinter. It is a green and +sequestered spot under the walls of old Rome, where the sunlight lingers +long, and where in the sweet society of roses whose bloom does not wither, +Shelley and Keats sleep always a summer sleep. Fate is no less delicate +than stern, which has here united them after such lives and deaths. And +yet here one feels also the grimness of the Fate which strikes such lips +into silence. + +I force myself to send you this letter, because I want to write you. It is +a shadowy hint of what I think and feel, as all letters must be. Cranch +and his wife are with me, and will stay the winter. There are not many +Americans, but I look every day for Burrill. Hicks I have seen a good deal +and like very much. He speaks to me of the MacDaniels. Give my love to all +at Brook Farm, and forgive a letter which you will not believe was written +in Italy. Cranch sends much love. + +Always yr + +G.W.C. + +How I wish you were going with us this sweet sunny day (23 Nov.), on which +I am writing this at my open window, without a fire, to see the +"Gladiator" at the capitol. It is a great responsibility to be in Italy, +one may justly demand so much of you afterwards. Once more, good-bye, and +some day send me a ray from the beautiful past which Brook Farm is to me. + +G.W.C. + + +XLI + +NAPLES, _April 27th, 1847._ + +My dear Friend,--If it would be hopeless and dispiriting to paint the +constantly shifting lights and beauties of a summer day, it is no less so +to write now and then a letter from Italy to one who would so warmly enjoy +all that I see and hear. Every omitted day makes the case worse, a month +makes it hopeless; and so I lived in Rome for five months and wrote you +only one letter at the beginning. Yet is the magnetism of friendship not +yet fine enough for you to know how constantly you were remembered, how I +lingered in the moonlit Coliseum, how I felt the commanding beauty of the +"Apollo" thrill through me, and the "Laocoon" and the proud heads of +Antinous, and the pictures which are what our imaginations demand for +Raphael and Leonardo and Michel Angelo, how I stood in the flood of the +"Miserere," which was and was not what I knew it must be, how I plucked +roses from the graves of Shelley and Keats, and led a Roman life for a +winter, not for myself only, but for you! + +I have written quite regularly to my family, and described some of the +many matters which were new and picturesque, but have scarcely snatched a +line to a friend except to Lizzie Curson and two letters to Geo. Bradford, +who had some intention of coming out to join us in this enchanted land. In +my last letter to him, which I wrote at the end of the Holy Week, I +mentioned the "Miserere" and the news of that time. He will show you the +letter, I suppose, if you wish to see it. But from Rome I broke suddenly +off and came to Naples. + +Is it not fine when things are beautifully different, when you part from +one as if you were leaving everything, and find satisfaction in +another--not a superiority, but equal difference? So is Naples after Rome. +There is nothing solemn or grand in it. It rises in solid banks of +cheerful houses from the spacious streets upon the water to the grim +castle of St. Elmo, which hovers almost perpendicularly over it. These +houses are white and bright, and turn themselves into the sunlight, and +stretch in long lines around the bay, blending with the neighboring towns +so that the base of Vesuvius is marked with a line of white houses, which +go on undistinguishably from Naples. Farther round is Castellamare and +Sorrento, whose promontory beyond is one corner of the bay, of which Capri +seems like a portion sailed away into the sea. And the bay of Naples is so +spacious and stately, so broad and deep, its lines those of mountains and +the sea, its gem the sunny city, and the islands of Capri, Ischia, and +Procida, so large and high and springing so proudly from the water, that +it satisfies the expectation; and sometimes this broad water dashes and +rolls like the ocean, then subsides into sunny ripples and gleams like +glass in the moonlight. Two or three old castles stand out upon the bay +from the city, picturesque objects for artists and lookers on, and in the +hazy moonlight black and sharp masses reflected in the water. Sails and +steamers and boats of all sorts are constantly dotting this space, and I +am never weary of wandering along the shore on which lie the fishermen +among their boats, with mournful looking women and black, matted-haired, +gypsy-like children. + +The picturesqueness of cities and life in Italy is more striking to me +than anything else. The people are so poetic that, although lazy and dirty +and mean, what they do and wear is like an animated picture. The gay +costumes of the women--ribbons and bodices and trinkets--with their deep +olive skins and bare heads, with hair that is most luxuriantly black, and +beautifully twisted and folded in heavy, graceful braids, the broad-browed +and outlined Roman women, majestic and handsome, not lovely or +interesting, but showing as the remains of an imperial beauty; and in +Naples the little figures and arch eyes and Oriental mien of the +girls--these persons living in quaint old cities where the brightest +flowers bloom amid hanging green over windows far and far above the street +and walking in high-walled narrow lanes over which hang the sun-sucking +leaves of the indolent aloe, and in which gleam the rich orange and lemon +trees, or, as now, the keen lustrous green of just-budding fig-trees, and +vines, or entering with quiet enthusiasm into festivals of saints, +sprinkling the churches and streets with glossy, fragrant bay-leaves, +hanging garlands upon the altars while a troop of virgins, clad in white +and crowned, pass with lighted tapers to the Bishop's feet for a blessing, +or more grandly drawing St. Peter's in fire upon the wild gloom of a March +night, and in vast procession of two or three thousand marching down the +narrow Corso singing a national song to the Pope--all this, if you can +unravel it, paints for the eye what can never be seen at home. "I pack my +trunk and wake up in Naples," and find myself, for which I am grateful; +but I also find Italian beauty, which is like American as oranges are like +apples. Such deep passionate eyes, such proud, queenly motions, such +groups of peasants and girls in gardens listening to music, and lying +asleep in the shade of trees, all this material of poetry is also material +of life here. This is the true Lotos Eaters' island, this the grateful +land of leisure; here people walk slowly and eat slowly and ride slowly, +and, I must say, think slowly. But that also is corn to my mill. I find +some sympathy with the happy Guy of Emerson's book, for there is no public +opinion in Italy. A man feels that he stands alone and enjoys all the joys +and sorrows of that consciousness and that position. Your room is your +castle. If a man knows where it is he comes to see you, but whatever you +do or say (of course excepting what is political) is your own business and +not that of infernal society, which at home is grand arbiter of men's +destinies. Except you care to do so, you have no state to keep up. The +card for a royal ball finds you as readily in your fourth story as in the +neighboring palace it finds My Lord; and so you are released from that +thraldom which one cannot explain, but which one feels at home whether he +consents to it or not. + +And it is a broad and catholic teacher, this travelling. I have been quite +unsphered since I have been here, in various ways, and have discovered how +good every man's business is and how wide his horizon. There is a shabby +Americanism which prowls proselyting through Europe, defying its spirit or +its beauty or its difference to swerve it from what it calls its +patriotism. Because America is contented and tolerably peaceful with a +Republic, it prophesies that Europe shall see no happy days until all +kings are prostrated; and belches that peculiar eloquence which prevails +in small debating-clubs in retired villages at home. This is like taunting +the bay of Naples with the bay of New York, or apples with oranges, or the +dark lustrous beauty of Italian women with the blond fairness of +Americans. Why should all men be governed alike rather than all look +alike; the north is cold and the south is warm. These monarchies which are +decried have been the fostering arms of genius and art; and in Italy and +the rest of the countries here lie the grand achievements of all time, +which draw the noblest and best from America to contemplate them and suck +the heart of their beauty for the refining and adorning their own land. +And why fear imitation! Men imitate when they stay at home more +preposterously than when they see what is really beautiful and grand in +other places; and a fine work of art repels imitation as the virgin beauty +of a girl repels licentiousness. And we are elevated by art and mingling +with men to know what is noble and best in attainment. We fancy a thousand +things fine at home because we do not know how much finer the same may be, +perhaps because we do not know that they are copies. Indeed, I feel as if +it would be a good fruit of long travel to recover the knowledge of the +fact which we so early lose--that we are born into the world with +relations to men as men before we are citizens of a country with limited +duties. A noble cosmopolitanism is the brightest jewel in a man's crown. + +I have heard very little music in Italy--never so little in a winter. In +Rome the opera was nothing, and there were only two or three concerts. +That of a young Pole pianiste whom I knew was good, Maurice Strakosch +(perhaps he will come to America). But the great gem of music was the +singer Adelaide Kemble. You know she has left the stage and the public, +but this was an amateur concert for the Irish. Her singing of "Casta Diva" +was by far the finest gem heard. Such richness and volume, such possession +and depth and passion, such purity and firmness and ease, I did not +believe possible. Although a single song in a concert it seemed to embrace +the whole spirit of the opera. She sang also the moon song from "Der +Freischutz" simply and exquisitely, also in a trio of Mozart's and a +Barcarolle, all of which showed the same genius. I do not see that she +lacks anything, for although not beautiful, her face is flexible and +really grand when she is excited. Cranch thought her voice not quite sweet +in some parts. The "Miserere" was exquisitely beautiful, but not entirely +what I expected to hear. In Naples I have heard the "Barber of Seville" +and an opera of Mercadanti's. The last is refined street music, and +reminds me of the mien and manners of a gentleman. The bands play every +day, which is much better than at Rome. But it is unhappy for me that +Verdi is the musical god of Italy at present, because the bands play +entirely from his operas, which remind me of a diluted Donizetti. He has +brought out a new opera, "Macbeth," within the month, at Florence. On the +third evening he was called out thirty-eight times; the young men escorted +him home in triumph, and the next night various princes and nobles +presented him with a golden crown! + +I have heard various rumors of Brook Farm, none agreeable. I feel as if my +letter might not find you there; but what can you be doing anywhere else? +I have received no letter from you, no direct news from Brook Farm, except +through Lizzie Curzon and Geo. Bradford. But it floats on in my mind, a +sort of Flying Dutchman in these unknown seas of life and experience, full +of an old beauty and melody. I know how your time is used, and am not +surprised at any length of silence. We go into the beautiful country about +us for a fortnight, to Salerno, Sorrento, Pestum, and Capri, afterwards +Rome again. Florence, the Apennines, Venice, Milan, Como, the Tyrol, +Switzerland, and Germany lie before us. What a spring which promises such +a summer! You will still go with me as silently as before. + +At this moment I raise my eyes to Vesuvius, which is opposite my window, +and the blue bay beneath. I can see the line of the Mediterranean blending +with the sky, and remember that you are at the other side. I write as if +Brook Farm still was there, and am more than ever + +Yr friend + +G.W.C. + + + + +LETTERS OF LATER DATE + + +I + +PROVIDENCE, _Thursday, Oct. 10, '50._ + +My dear Dwight,--I was very very sorry not to find you the other day; but +as I was only a few hours in Boston, I had no opportunity of renewing the +attempt. + +This morning I saw a letter, I suppose from you, in the _Tribune_, about +Jenny's Saturday concert in Boston. It reminded me to send you a most +rapid criticism(?) of mine published here yesterday. I address the paper +as I do this note. + +This Jenny Lind singing is a matter of such lofty art in the sublimest +sense, and we are so young and jejune in all art, that I cannot much +wonder at the general impression. It is precisely what would be the fate +of really fine pictures and poems. Huge wonder, childish delight, +intoxication, delirium, and disappointment--but little of the apprehensive +perception of the presence of an artist so profound and grand. + +I knew, of course, that you must be realizing somewhere the greatness of +this gift. Now I have heard you say so, I am glad to send you a kind of +echo. + +When shall I see you? I shall be here for a day or two more, then relapse +into New York, for how long I know not. Let me have a line from you, +saying that among all your virtues you yet count Memory, as does yours +most rememberingly, + +George W. Curtis. + + +II + +PROVIDENCE, _March 17th, '51, Monday._ + +I believe, dear John, that I have not yet had the grace to congratulate +you upon "the great change" that you have recently undergone. But, +happily, I am equally sure that you have not ascribed my silence to +anything but the habit of epistolary silence that has come upon me since +my return from the other continent, mainly distinguished, if my memory may +confirm universal remark, by the great number of letters written from it. + +May I also add the satiety of writing, which a man who has just published +a book may be supposed to be experiencing? For I have published a book, a +copy of which, with the heart of the author, pressed but not dried between +the blank leaves, you should have had immediately but for my absence from +New York. It is called "Nile Notes of a Howadji," and has thus far, being +only a week old, received as flattering notice as any tremulous young +author could have wished. One or two chapters are considered somewhat +_broad_, I hear; but the whole impression is precisely what I wished. + +I am here because I was invited to repeat my lecture here; and, as I was +not back in New York when the "Notes" were issued, I preferred to tarry in +the "ambrosial retirement," as Rev. Osgood calls it, and not serve as +foot-notes to my Readers. + +I shall go home soon, and I trust by way of Boston. If so, I shall of +course see you and--yours, I must now say. Will you present my warmest +regards and pleasantest recollections to your wife, and believe still in +your friend + +George W.C. + + +III + +My dear John,--The Lady Emelyn swears by Venus and all the Goddesses that +our party at your house must be postponed until Friday evening, that she +may bring with us Miss Anna Loring and Miss Augusta King. What can mere +men do? They submit. And they walk across the fields to look at a +beautiful woman, at a Poet's wife. + +We are all very hot and very happy down here, and wonder if your ashes are +white or quite invisible, for of course, in the city, you have become ash. + +Present us most kindly to your wife, and forget not that our coming will +be much more enchanting with Mrs. S.'s proposed addition. + +Yours aff., + +G.W.C. + +NAHANT, _Wednesday morning Aug 12, '51._ + + +IV + +My dear John,--We are tapering off. Mrs. Story is not well, and we have +not our young ladies yet. Also C.P. Cranch goes to Quincy, where his wife +is. So I fear you will have only William and me, and very probably his +proof-sheets will retain him. I expect Cranch to come, but he is quite +unwell. + +Yours aff., + +G.W.C. + +_Friday, Aug. 15, '51._ + + +V + +PROVIDENCE, _Friday, Sep. 26, 1851._ + +My dear John,--This morning I received the enclosed. If you can shed light +upon the darkness it indicates will you please do so, sending me what +information you have. + +I am up to my ears in a book I am writing in continuation of the "Notes," +"Syrian Sketches"; and shall stay here perhaps two months. I shall hope to +slip down to Boston occasionally and see you all. I was there a few hours +on Monday, and saw William by chance. Burrill has reached England, and is +very much pleased with Malvern. + +Give my love to your wife, whom I would be glad to hear sing once more. + +Your aff. + +G.W.C. + + +VI + +PROVIDENCE, _25th Nov., '51._ + +My dear John,--I had intended to see the B. when she came. I have sounded +her trumpet here, for auld lang syne. If I can do so heartily I will write +a notice of her concert, as I always do when I am here, at the request of +_The Journal_. I enclose my last effort in that kind, apropos of Catherine +Hayes. + +I would gladly come to Boston, but I cannot think of it just now. Should +Jenny Lind threaten not to sing in Providence I shall very likely run down +with my cousin Anna and hear her for an evening. We are trying to have the +Germania here, but for music in the general we go hang. My cousin, +however, is a very accomplished player, and I enjoy with her Mendelssohn's +songs and Liszt's arrangements and "Don Giovanni" and eke Schumann. I see +Fred Rackemann has returned. + +My book is written; but I am now very busily revising it. Hedge much +prefers what I have read him to the other. He lives just across the street +from me, and we have many a cigar and chat. He preaches superb sermons. + +Give my heartiest love and remembrances to your wife, and forget not the +faithful. I have a line from the Xest of Xtophers the other day, who is +painting away for dear life. Tom Hicks, ditto. The latter lives with +Charles Dana. + +Ever your aff. + +G.W.C. + +I have unluckily forgotten your no. so I'll put the street, not being +quite sure of that!!! + + +VII + +TRIBUNE OFFICE, N.Y., _19th March, '52._ + +My dear John,--Your most welcome letter has been received, and its +contents have been submitted to the astute deliberations of the editorial +conclave. We are delighted at the prospect--but--we do not love the name. +_1st. Journal of Music_ is too indefinite and commonplace. It will not be +sufficiently distinguished from the _Musical Times_ and the _Musical +World_, being of the same general character. + +2d. "Side-glances" is suspicious. It "smells" Transcendentalism, as the +French say, and, of all things, any aspect of a clique is to be avoided. + +That is the negative result of our deliberations; the positive is, that +you should identify your name with the paper and called it _Dwight's +Musical Journal_, and you might add, _sotto voce_, "a paper of Art and +Literature." + +Prepend: I shall be very glad to send you a sketch of our winter doings in +music, especially as I love Steffanane, although she says, "I smoke, I +chew, I snoof, I drink, I am altogether vicious." You shall have it Sunday +morning, and I will address it to you simply at the P.O. + +My book is ready, is only waiting for the English publisher to move; and I +have other irons heating, of which anon. I've had a long letter from Wm. +Story, who is happy and busy in Rome--who wouldn't be? + + +VIII + +I wish you could run on and see us all. Tom Hicks is right busy with his +great portrait of the ex-Governor. Indeed, we are all so busy that I have +only time to remember--rarely to say--that I am + +Your ever aff. + +G.W.C. + +_J.S. Dwight, Esq._ + +Give my kindest regards to your wife. I wish she could sing in your paper. + + +IX + +N.Y., _Saturday, 24th April, '52._ + +My dear John,--I have been so busy in the last throes of my "Syrian +Howadji," which is to be born on Tuesday, that I have not sent you an +intended letter about the Philharmonic and the Quartette; and I presume +from to-day's number that you have other notes of them. I think, however, +I will still send you something by Monday's mail if you will promise not +to use it if you don't truly want it. There is rather a flat and +barrenness just now in the world of music, but, with the Academy +exhibition, Brackett's group, and the Paul Delaroche picture we can make +out something. + +Your paper is a triumph. It is so handsome to the eye and sweet to the +mind, it is so pleasantly varied, and its sketches have such completeness +of grace in themselves, that the reader is not ashamed of the pleasure it +gives him and the interest he has in it, which you may have remarked is +not always the case, for instance, in liking Anna Thillard's business at +Niblo's (of which very little is certainly enough). I am half ashamed of +myself for really enjoying what I know is so utterly artificial. Do you +conceive? + +I just see in the _National Era_ a long notice of you and your _Journal_. +It was not mine or the T.'s or I should have sent it to you. But you must +find it. + +You will receive an early copy of my Syrian book, the last of the Howadji, +who, leaving the East, becomes a mere traveller. It was a real work of +love, and I hope you may have some of the pleasure in reading that I had +in writing it. + +Give my love to your wife, and believe me always, + +G.W.C. + +I send you over the page a list of names of my subscribers and enclose you +the funds in N.Y. money. [Enclosed were eight subscriptions to _Dwight's +Journal of Music_, Curtis himself taking three copies.] + + +X + +N.Y., _28th Apr., 1852._ + +My dear John,--I span out my letter so far that I had no room for +pictures, but I will not forget them, and they will remain open until the +middle of July. + +I shall be only too delighted to see Mr. Goldschmidt, and sincerely regret +that I have enjoyed no such opportunity of seeing Jenny Lind until just as +she is going. We are beginning to stir. White and I have both suggested +_one_ concert of the true stamp, and the _Times_ came out against us and +we pitched back again into the _Times_; and the _Herald_ and other +journals have called attention to the warfare, and insist that humbug, +Barnumania, and high prices shall be put down. I am going to write an +article upon Jenny Lind's right to ask $3 if she thinks fit, on the +principle that Dickens, Horace Vernet, and every molasses merchant acts +and properly acts. + +Why not send your papers to the publisher of some Saturday paper to +distribute with his? The difficulty is that if people are irregular in +getting it, it will lose its character of steadiness, which is fatal to +such a paper. Ripley agrees in this. By mail the majority of people who +haven't boxes at the P.O. get nothing at all, or only spasmodically. You +will have to send it to some agent here, I am confident. + +Cranch is about breaking up house-keeping preparatory to his summer +rustication. He is in a tight place again, as he is too apt to be, poor +fellow! The fact is art is poor pay unless you are a great artist. He +fights very cheerfully, though, which is a comfort. His children are very +interesting, and at his house there is a set of us who have the best of +times, the most truly genial and poetic. + +I enclose you the funds which I so amusingly forgot, and, if I can serve +you by seeing any agent or other "fallow deer," I shall be most happy to +do it; and don't fail always to call upon me. + +Yours most truly and ever, + +G.W.C. + +Is this sum right? + + +XI + +NEWPORT, _July 29th, 1852._ + +My dear John,--I have been running round for two or three weeks, and have +forgotten to ask you to change the address of the papers which come to +me.... + +I am charmingly situated here with Mr. and Mrs. Longfellow and Tom +Appleton, and with some other pleasant people. It is very lovely and lazy; +but I am quite busy. Give my love to your wife and believe me, always, + +Your aff. + +G.W.C. + + +XII + +NEWPORT, _Oct. 11th, 1852._ + +My dear John,--I leave Newport this evening, and since "friend after +friend departs," you will hardly be surprised to hear that I have fallen +from the ranks of bachelors; and that when I said I should die such, I had +no idea I should live to be married. Prosaically, then, I am engaged +to.... Her father is cousin of ... and is of the elder branch of the +family, so that I already begin to feel sentimental about Lady Arabella +Johnson. On the other side I come plump against plump old Gov. Stuyvesant +of the New Netherlands. What with Dutch and Puritan blood, therefore, I +shall be sufficiently sobered, you will fancy. Wrong, astutest of Johns, +for my girl plays like a sunbeam over the dulness of that old pedigree, +and is no whit more Dutch or Puritan than I am. She is, in brief, 22 years +old, a very, very pronounced blonde, not handsome (to common eyes), +graceful and winning, not accomplished nor talented nor fond of books, gay +as a bird, bright as sunshine, and has that immortal youth, that perennial +freshness and sweetness which is the secret of permanent happiness. + +I am as happy as the day, and have no especial intention of marrying +directly. Her father has a large property, but she is not, properly, a +rich girl. I shall be settled at home in ten days. To-night I am going to +Baltimore, and shall return to New York next week. + +Give my warmest love to your wife, and believe me--Benedict or no +Benedict--always + +Your aff. + +G.W.C. + + +XIII + +N.Y., _14th April, 1853._ + +Caro Don Giovanni,--Any time these six months I have seen a skulking +scoundrel who endeavored to avoid my notice, and always turned pale when +he saw a copy of _Dwight's Journal of Music_. I pursued him vigorously, +and he confessed to me that he was the chief of sinners, and that his name +was _Hafiz_. + +"But," said he, when he saw in my eyes the firm resolve to acquaint the +editor with the fact that his correspondent was still living--"but, oh! +say that I have just paid to Messrs. Scharfenberg and Luis my subscription +for the three copies owing the coming year"--and thereupon he vanished; +and I haste to discharge my duty, for if I have a failing, it is doing my +duty. Should you see the editor will you please state not only the fact of +the subscription paid, but that I have heard this pursued Hafiz swear that +not many moons should wane before he wrote to _Dwight's Journal of Music_ +a letter about things in New York, "our new music and other things," for +instance. + +Hafiz, who tries to make me believe that he does the music in _Putnam_, +says that in the May number he has commended your _Journal_. He is an +abandoned fellow. + +How are you, and how prospers the _Journal_? and have you quite forgiven +my wicked silences as well as my imperfect speeches; and will you please +not to forget that you are never forgotten by Your aff. + +G.W.C. + + +XIV + +N.Y., _Sept. 14, '53._ + +My dear John,---I have just returned to town, and find your letter +suggestive of White Mountains, quiet, artists, and other dissipations; but +I am just from the hills, where I have been for six weeks, and am ordered +to the sea-shore to be salted. I am not quite sure whether I shall go to +Newport or to Long Branch; but I infinitely prefer Newport, although I +have very valued friends upon the New Jersey shore. + +My old head has been bothering me all summer; but Dr. Gray has taken it +fairly in hand, and says I shall soon be all right. I hope he is not all +wrong. + +I am coming to Boston some time during the season to lecture before your +Mercantile Library, and have promised to make something of a visit; but I +fear it will hardly be possible to stay long. + +X was on my track yesterday, although I havn't seen him for an age. I hear +he projects Europe again, but know nothing definite. Today I am just +hurrying off to Staten Island to assist at the nuptials of.... So they go, +and so, soon--let us pray--may + +Your aff. + +G.W.C. + + +XV + +N.Y., _July 19, '53._ + +My dear John,--It has been anything but indifference that has prevented my +sending you some notices of the pictures. But my head, which was muzzy +when you were here, has been muzzier ever since, and my Dr. made me +relinquish everything and run out of town, so that I have been gadding for +a month, and the August _Putnam_ hasn't a line of mine. + +You see I have been positively idle; but I hope I am somewhat better. At +least I feel so, although I shall not work much for some time to come. + +I'm going up to Cranch's this evening and to Lenox next week. It is not +impossible that some happy gust may blow me to Conway. Give my kindest +love to your wife, and believe me--muzzy or no muzzy-- + +Your aff. + +G.W.C. + + +XVI + +HOME, _9th Feb., '54._ + +My dear John,--Behold me with unspoken farewells and innumerable Boston +banquets well (I hope) digested, and with only a glancing word with your +wife at Mrs. Ticknor's on Monday morning. + +One thing thou lackest, O Freunde! You have not heard Miss Skelton sing! +It is a young girl who not only does not like "classical" music, but does +not even profess to, which I hold to be virtuous in factitious times. But +she is a sweet, natural, honest girl, and sings Italian, yea, even "Ah! +Non Credea," with a sweet, full, and tender voice which is truly +delicious. She is one of Cranch's stars. I heard her at the Greenwoods. + +I have a vague idea of darting through Boston again about the first of +March. I shall be in New Bedford, and might go to Keene. + +Good-night. I have every reason to love your Boston. + +Your aff. + +G.W.C. + +Friday I hope to see Mrs. Downing, and if I hear of the great X--an +unknown quantity to us--I will inform you. + + +XVII + +N.Y., _Monday, April 10, '54._ + +My dear John,---I send you my humble duty. The season is over, and I +return to an accumulated mass of work. I find nothing pleasanter in my +winter's reminiscences than the Boston episode. + +Give my kindest love to your wife, and my regards to Hurlbut, and believe +me as always, + +G.W.C. + + +XVIII + +WEST NEW BRIGHTON, STATEN ISLAND, N.Y., _11 April, 1883._ + +My dear John,----Your letter reached me safely, and I share your surprise +and regret at what seems to me, so far as I can see, a wholly unnecessary +act. I will speak of it in the _Weekly_ at once because the _Magazine_ is +always so long after! + +I saw some notice of Cranch's seventieth birthday. Good lack! how the +years whiz! I did not hear from him, and I suppose it is not exactly the +occasion upon which you ask your friends to make merry. Longfellow, I +remember, wrote me when he was seventy that it was like turning the slate +over and beginning upon the other side. + +We are all well and quiet. The Doctors in New York dine Dr. Holmes +to-morrow, and I have promised to go. I have heard nothing from Edmund +Tweedy for many a day, but I suppose that all goes well with him and his. + +Good-bye. It is very good to hear from you always, and I am always +affectionately yours, + +George William Curtis. + + +XIX + +WEST NEW BRIGHTON, STATEN ISLAND, N.Y., _8 February, 1884._ + +My dear John,--I read your letter with sincere but hopeless interest, +because I know how very slight her chance is in New York. The only hope +lies in a circle of ladies who know her and would take pains to help her; +but who are they, and how can they care for her? The contest single-armed +against established teachers of prestige of a ci-devant Prima Donna, who +had small success twenty-five years ago and is forgotten, is only pitiful. +I will ask one of the best and most prosperous of our teachers, and who is +much interested in my Lizzie, what ought to be done. He knows more than +any one with whom I could advise. + +I had heard with great delight of your portrait and of the becoming +disposition which was made of it. I have thought also how sincerely you +will deplore the death of our incomparable orator. And I hope that you +sometimes think how affectionately I am always yours, + +George William Curtis. + + +XX + +NEW YORK, _October 26, 1884._ + +My dear John,--Your note finds me here on my way to Ashfield. I voted for +Edmunds every time, and in the uproar of the vote that made Blaine's +nomination I held my peace. But had I voted for Blaine, and had afterwards +found good reasons to change my mind, I should not have hesitated to take +the course I have taken. I am very busy, and I send you my love always. +Your ancient, + +George William Curtis. + + +XXI + +WEST NEW BRIGHTON, STATEN ISLAND, N.Y., _May 17th, 1886._ + +My dear John,--I do not know your address, but I am sure the Boston +postmaster does, and I trust this note to his superior knowledge. + +It was very good to see your familiar hand again and unchanged, and best +of all to read your strong, clear, masterful, and delightful plea for the +true saving grace of humanity, common-sense. It is a most admirable piece +of work, and a host of readers will wonder that they had never thought of +it before. That is the effect of all wise writing, I suppose, which like +yours lays us all under obligation. Why don't you oftener bring us reports +of your interviews with Egeria? Cranch had already told me of the paper +with great praise, in a letter which told me also of your birthnight orgie +with Boott and John Holmes. At the Commencement dinner of the year that +Harvard made me a Doctor, I said to President Eliot, "Who is that military +man who looks like a captain of Dragoons?" and, after making out the one I +meant, he laughed and said, "Dragoons? why that is John Holmes!" As I +remember him, his whiskers had a military cut; but I have often laughed +since. + +I have the photograph of Carrie Cranch's remarkable portrait of you, which +is a precious possession; and when I see Cranch I hear of you and when I +don't see him I think of you, and always with the old affection. We are +all well, which means my wife and daughter here, and my son and +daughter-in-law and two grandchildren at Newton. My whiskers are white, +but my hair holds out with its old brown! Goodbye and auf wiedersehen. + +Most truly yours, + +George William Curtis. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Early Letters of George Wm. Curtis +by G. W. Curtis, ed. George Willis Cooke + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EARLY LETTERS OF GEORGE WM. CURTIS *** + +This file should be named 8222.txt or 8222.zip + +Produced by Eric Eldred, Beth Trapaga +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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