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Harper's Encyclopedia of United States History (ed. Benson Lossing) 198 198 Browse Search
Brigadier-General Ellison Capers, Confederate Military History, a library of Confederate States Military History: Volume 5, South Carolina (ed. Clement Anselm Evans) 38 38 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life 32 32 Browse Search
Cambridge History of American Literature: volume 3 (ed. Trent, William Peterfield, 1862-1939., Erskine, John, 1879-1951., Sherman, Stuart Pratt, 1881-1926., Van Doren, Carl, 1885-1950.) 27 27 Browse Search
The Cambridge of eighteen hundred and ninety-six: a picture of the city and its industries fifty years after its incorporation (ed. Arthur Gilman) 18 18 Browse Search
Oliver Otis Howard, Autobiography of Oliver Otis Howard, major general , United States army : volume 2 7 7 Browse Search
Cambridge History of American Literature: volume 2 (ed. Trent, William Peterfield, 1862-1939., Erskine, John, 1879-1951., Sherman, Stuart Pratt, 1881-1926., Van Doren, Carl, 1885-1950.) 6 6 Browse Search
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 30. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones) 5 5 Browse Search
Hon. J. L. M. Curry , LL.D., William Robertson Garrett , A. M. , Ph.D., Confederate Military History, a library of Confederate States Military History: Volume 1.1, Legal Justification of the South in secession, The South as a factor in the territorial expansion of the United States (ed. Clement Anselm Evans) 5 5 Browse Search
History of the First Universalist Church in Somerville, Mass. Illustrated; a souvenir of the fiftieth anniversary celebrated February 15-21, 1904 4 4 Browse Search
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Browsing named entities in Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life. You can also browse the collection for 1896 AD or search for 1896 AD in all documents.

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Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life, Chapter 2: a Keats manuscript (search)
iny of all literary manuscripts, this characteristic document should have been preserved for us. It will be remembered that Keats himself once wrote in a letter that his fondest prayer, next to that for the health of his brother Tom, would be that some child of his brother George should be the first American poet. This letter, printed by Milnes, was written Oct. 29, 1818. George Keats died about 1851, and his youngest daughter, Isabel, who was thought greatly to resemble her uncle John, both in looks and genius, died sadly at the age of seventeen. It is pleasant to think that we have, through the care exercised by this Americanized brother, an opportunity of coming into close touch with the mental processes of that rare genius which first imparted something like actual color to English words. To be brought thus near to Keats suggests that poem by Browning where he compares a moment's interview with one who had seen Shelley to picking up an eagle's feather on a lonely heath. 1896
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life, Chapter 5: a bit of war photography (search)
e heroic in the end. In my own limited experience, the only young officer whom I ever saw thoroughly and confessedly frightened, when first under fire, was the only one of his regiment who afterwards chose the regular army for his profession, and fought Indians for the rest of his life. As for The Red Badge of Courage, the test of the book is in the way it holds you. I only know that whenever I take it up I find myself reading it over and over, as I do Tolstoi's Cossacks, and find it as hard to put down. None of Doyle's or Weyman's books bear re-reading, in the same way; you must wait till you have forgotten their plots. Even the slipshod grammar seems a part of the breathless life and action. How much promise it gives, it is hard to say. Goethe says that as soon as a man has done one good thing, the world conspires against him to keep him from doing another. Mr. Crane has done one good thing, not to say two; but the conspiracy of admiration may yet be too much for him. 1896
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life, Chapter 6: Lowell's closing years in Cambridge (search)
is life, receiving the Dante Club and the Modern Language Association as if each were the Royal Society. In looking back on London, too, he was able to see its limitations as well as its delights; was ready to recognize the barren fig-tree side of it, in Lord Houghton's phrase; the limitation and disappointment resulting from the very excess and hurry. It is the same side that we see in books of personal recollections, like Lady Eastlake's Diaries or Sir Frederick Pollock's Remembrances, where the writer goes from one brilliant breakfast or luncheon or dinner to the next, meeting all the wits and sages, and bringing away only two or three anecdotes. Lowell himself recognized all this limitation, yet delighted in the retrospect; skimmed for you the cream of it, and then took you out on the piazza to watch the squirrels and robins. Becoming again, in some sense, a recluse, he was such a recluse as Sir Henry Wotton might have been, or as the tenant of Andrew Marvell's garden. 1896
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life, Chapter 7: a very moral and nice book (search)
modern writer who dares to criticise him. Mr. Howells cannot so much as venture the remark that good Sir Walter's opening chapter of genealogy is sometimes a little long-winded, and that it may be permissible to begin with Chapter Second, but he rouses Mr. Lang's utmost indignation. Mr. Haggard cannot be classed as a dime novelist without protests of amazement and assurances that he is the lineal successor of Scott, and that to have left unread a single story of Haggard's is to have fallen short of the highest culture. Omit, if you will, the Widowed wife and wedded maid, Betrothed, betrayer, and betrayed, but read every word about She-if the phrase be not ungrammatical-or you are lost. It is painful, but really Mr. Lang's confessions recall the case of that New England bookseller in a small town who recently informed an inquirer that he had never heard of Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, but that he was probably the husband of Mrs. Mary J. Holmes, who wrote such lovely novels. 1896
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life, Chapter 8: local fiction (search)
r who has succeeded with village life always wishes to deal with more artificial society. It is as inevitable as the yearning of every good amateur comedian to act Shakespeare. Bret Harte and his successor, Hamlin Garland, handle admirably the types they knew in early life, but the moment they attempt to delineate a highly bred woman the curtain rises on a creaking doll in starched petticoats. Few, indeed, of our authors can venture to portray, what would seem not so impossible, an every-day gentleman or lady. But Miss Jewett can produce types of the old New England gentry, dwelling perhaps in the quietest of country towns, yet incapable of any act which is not dignified or gracious; and Miss Viola Roseboro can depict an old Southern lady, living in a cheap New York boarding-house, toiling her life away to pay her brother's or her father's debts, and yet so exquisite in all her ways that the very page which describes her seems to exhale a delicate odor as of faded jasmine. 1896
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life, Chapter 9: the new spelling-book (search)
n innovation. The delightful English Roman Catholic author Digby wrote, fifty years ago, that the moderns had found out a new way to spell honor, but no new mode of practising it; and this furnishes a date for this particular reform, although it really dates back much earlier, being mentioned with approval in Pegge's Anecdotes, first published in 1803. In the books of a hundred years ago one might find, without question or misgiving, authour, errour, inferiour, humour, and honour. The last two still hold their own in English books, but not in American; the others have given way in England also. The only word of the kind still retaining the u in most American books is the word Saviour, and this is obviously from a feeling of reverence, like that which leads many excellent persons to pronounce God Gawd, just as Kipling's soldiers pronounce it. In time we shall perhaps learn that true feeling and reverence are not impaired by a simple pronunciation or by a consistent spelling. 1896
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life, Chapter 10: Favorites of a day (search)
a merely literary ambition. The only absolutely impregnable attitude is in that fine invocation of the radical Proudhon, prefixed to his first work: Thou God who hast placed in my heart the sentiment of justice before my reason comprehended it, hear my ardent prayer.... May my memory perish, if humanity may but be free! --(Ah! perisse ma memoire et que l'humanite soit libre.) Oeuvres Completes;, I. 224. He who is thinking only of himself and of the royalty on his books must watch tremblingly over his own fame, and shudder at every adverse breath; he is like an actor, who hears his doom in every shrinkage of applause from the galleries. But the man whose thoughts are fixed on truth and right is better occupied; if he sees the torch carried onward, what matter who carries it? Still lives the song though Regnar dies ; and it will not trouble him though a generation of critics go to their graves, as Lady Holland said of Lady Cork, full of bitterness and good dinners. 1896
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life, Chapter 11: the foe to eloquence (search)
essential difficulty is always the same. If you are talking for the newspapers you are sure to be misunderstood unless you write out what you mean to say, and if you do that, farewell to all freshness and spontaneity. It is not intended in all this to throw blame upon the daily papers. They have a stupendous task, which they perform with amazing energy and method as regards quantity of information, and perhaps in time they will add accuracy also. Having on any given evening a score of public meetings to report, how can they do it, it may justly be asked, unless the speakers do their own reporting in advance? Nevertheless, it is likely that sooner or later some device or new invention will lead us out of the difficulty. Who knows but some future poly-phonograph may at some day reproduce in the daily papers of the next morning all that any public speaker said which was worth saying, or really told upon his audience, and may omit, with still greater felicity, all the rest? 1896
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life, Chapter 12: the next step in journalism (search)
Seattle or Venezuela. The cruel advantage of the reporter lies always in the intrinsic impressiveness of print, the product of an art which still retains something of the solemnity that belonged to it in the days when it was held to be magical. It has its hold on the reporter himself, who often ends in not merely stoutly maintaining but actually believing his statement to be strictly true in all its parts as printed, although he knew well an hour ago in what a helterskelter way it was picked up. If these little black imps called types can thus beguile the very most experienced, how shall the ignorant escape? Their power is irresistible. You may contradict a printed statement never so often, yet nobody sees the disclaimer, and the wise soon outgrow the habit of correction. Erelong, perhaps, these despots of ours will grow humane from very mercy, and the journalist who ranks highest in his profession will not be he who presents the most facts, but the fewest falsehoods. 1896
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life, Chapter 13: the dream of the republic (search)
re left on the British Isles when it withdrew from them. To this day there are no roads on those islands so good, no walls so solid, as those built by the Roman conquerors. Shall we say that it would have been better if Great Britain had remained forever an outlying colony of Rome? Not at all; she has worked out her own salvation by being thrown on herself, and so must these South American republics. We did not require Maximilian to leave Mexico for fear he would not govern vigorously under the direction of his master, Louis Napoleon; but we required it in order that Mexico should be free. See what progress Mexico has made since then-first under Juarez, a pure-blooded Indian, and since 1877 under Diaz! Brigandage has almost disappeared; the laws are administered; there is religious freedom; the army has been reduced. Yet there was a time when the very word Mexican was a synonym for disorder. Even a Hispano-American race, it seems, can fulfil the dream of the republic. 1896
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