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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.) 20 0 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.) 16 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Letters and Journals of Thomas Wentworth Higginson 4 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Irene E. Jerome., In a fair country 4 0 Browse Search
Frank Preston Stearns, Cambridge Sketches 4 0 Browse Search
Wendell Phillips, Theodore C. Pease, Speeches, Lectures and Letters of Wendell Phillips: Volume 1 2 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Margaret Fuller Ossoli 2 0 Browse Search
Mary Thacher Higginson, Thomas Wentworth Higginson: the story of his life 2 0 Browse Search
Knight's Mechanical Encyclopedia (ed. Knight) 2 0 Browse Search
Bliss Perry, The American spirit in lierature: a chronicle of great interpreters 2 0 Browse Search
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Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Army Life in a Black Regiment, Chapter 6: a night in the water. (search)
reputation of being of an excitable temperament, but the contrary; yet I could at that moment see my way to a condition in which one might become insane in an instant. It was as if a fissure opened somewhere, and I saw my way into a mad-house; then it closed, and everything went on as before. Once in my life I had obtained a slight glimpse of the same sensation, and then, too, strangely enough, while swimming, in the mightiest ocean-surge into which I had ever dared plunge my mortal body. Keats hints at the same sudden emotion, in a wild poem written among the Scottish mountains. It was not the distinctive sensation which drowning men are said to have, that spasmodic passing in review of one's whole personal history. I had no well-defined anxiety, felt no fear, was moved to no prayer, did not give a thought to home or friends; only it swept over me, as with a sudden tempest, that, if I meant to get back to my own camp, I must keep my wits about me. I must not dwell on any other a
. 11,631TurnerAug. 29, 1854. 14,207SwingleFeb. 5, 1856. (Reissue.)363TurnerMay 25, 1856. 15,396SwingleJuly 22, 1856. (Reissue.)410SwingleNov. 4, 1856. 28,144BeanMay 8, 1860. 29,785HaskellAug. 28, 1860. 34,915TownsendApr. 8, 1862. (Reissue.)1,600ButterfieldJan. 5, 1864. 42,292JohnsonApr. 12, 1864. (Reissue.)1,962TurnerMay 16, 1865. 48,511Bradford et al.July 4, 1865. 50,117HaleSept. 26, 1865. 50,642TewkesburyOct. 24, 1865. 50,917Dawley et al.Nov. 14, 1865. 50,995Keats et al.Nov. 14, 1865. 51,157DunhamNov. 28, 1865. 51,383BeanDec. 5, 1865. 1. Machines. (continued). No.Name.Date. 52,368ReedJan. 30, 1866. 57,047ReedAug. 7, 1866. 58,550LangmaidOct. 23, 1866. 59,127HalliganOct. 23, 1866. 67,906ReedAug. 20, 1867. 67,965ElmesAug. 20, 1867. 86,592ReedFeb. 2, 1869. 86,632BeanFeb. 9, 1869. 89,275BeanApr. 27, 1869. 92,138AdamsJuly 6, 1869. 97,330WeemanNov. 30, 1869. 109,427LandfearNov. 22, 1870. 109,655PalmerNov. 29, 1870. 110,945WoodwardJan. 10,
Frank Preston Stearns, Cambridge Sketches, Lowell (search)
erary magazine, proved a failure; and it is to be feared that he lost money by it. See Scudder's Life of Lowell, III.109. However the world might use him he was sure of comfort and happiness at his own fireside, where he read Shelley, and Keats, and Lessing, while Mrs. Lowell studied upon her German translations. The sympathy of a truehearted woman is always valuable, even when she does not quite understand the grievance in question, but the sympathy that Maria Lowell could give her hurature than law during these years, and we notice that he did not go, like Emerson, to the great fountain-heads of poetry,--to Homer or Dante, Shakespeare or Goethe,--but courted the muse rather among such tributaries as Virgil, Moliere, Chaucer, Keats, and Lessing. It may have been better for him that he began in this manner; but a remark that Scudder attributes to him in regard to Lessing gives us an insight into the deeper mechanism of his mind. Shelley's poetry, he said, was like the tra
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Margaret Fuller Ossoli, Chapter 18: literary traits. (search)
s, they may turn to that essay. There were two points in which no one exceeded her at the time and place in which she lived. First, she excelled in lyric glimpses, or the power of putting a high thought into a sentence. If few of her sentences have passed into the common repertory of quotation, that is not a final test. The greatest poet is not necessarily the most quoted or quotable poet. Pope fills twenty-four pages in Bartlett's Dictionary of Quotations, Moore eight, Burns but six, Keats but two, and the Brownings taken together less than half a page. The test of an author is not to be found merely in the number of his phrases that pass current in the corners of newspapers — else would Josh Billings be at the head of literature ;but in the number of passages that have really taken root in younger minds. Tried by this standard, Margaret Fuller ranks high, and, if I were to judge strictly by my own personal experience, I should say very high indeed. I shall always be grate
Wendell Phillips, Theodore C. Pease, Speeches, Lectures and Letters of Wendell Phillips: Volume 1, chapter 14 (search)
n destiny, and their own responsibilities, in the face. Grant me to see, and Ajax asks no more, was the prayer the great poet put into the lips of his hero in the darkness which overspread the Grecian camp. All we want of American citizens is the opening of their own eyes, and seeing things as they are. The intelligent, thoughtful, and determined gaze of twenty millions of Christian people there is nothing,--no institution wicked and powerful enough to be capable of standing against it. In Keats's beautiful poem of Lamia, a young man had been led captive by a phantom girl, and was the slave of her beauty, until the old teacher came in and fixed his thoughtful eye upon the figure, and it vanished. You see the great Commonwealth of Virginia fitly represented by a pyramid standing upon its apex. A Connecticut-born man entered at one corner of her dominions, and fixed his cold gray eye upon the government of Virginia, and it almost vanished in his very gaze. For it seems that Virgi
Lydia Maria Child, Letters of Lydia Maria Child (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier, Wendell Phillips, Harriet Winslow Sewall), Standard and popular Library books, selected from the catalogue of Houghton, Mifflin and Co. (search)
Synnove Solbakken. Arne. The Bridal March. Magnhild. A Happy Boy. The Fisher Maiden. Captain Mansana. British Poets. Riverside Edition. In 68 volumes, crown 8vo, cloth, gilt top, per vol. $1.75; the set, 68 volumes, cloth, $100.00. Akenside and Beattie, I vol. Ballads, 4 vols. Burns, I vol. Butler, I vol. Byron, 5 vols. Campbell and Falconer, i vol. Chatterton, I vol. Chaucer, 3 vols. Churchill, Parnell, and Tickell, 2 vols. Coleridge and Keats, 2 vols. Cowper, 2 vols. Dryden, 2 vols. Gay, I vol Goldsmith and Gray, I vol. Herbert and Vaughan, I vol. Herrick, I vol. Hood, 2 vols. Milton and Marvell, 2 vols. Montgomery, 2 vols. Moore, 3 vols. Pope and Collins, 2 vols. Prior, i vol. Scott, 5 vols. Shakespeare and Jonson, I vol. Chatterton, I vol. Shelley, 2 vols. Skelton and Donne, 2 vols. Southey, 5 vols. Spenser, 3 vols. Swift, 2 vols. Thomson, I vol. Watts and White,
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Letters and Journals of Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Chapter 1: Cambridge and Newburyport (search)
ring in), nobody has any knowledge of beauty; it's the rarest thing. People all go along, just like dogs, without seeing anything in nature. It separates you directly from men, if you care anything about it; you are unsocial and puzzle them. Beauty is just as hard as Emerson is on his side, but his is the popular side — all this humanitarianism business. There is Thoreau, he knows about it — give him sunshine and a handful of nuts, and he has enough. . .. Walking in the Joppa street . . he said, Do you feel as if these New England people were your countrymen? I do not — the Irish and English seem to be so; they settle down at once as if they had lived here all their lives; but every New Englander looks as if he were just stopping here a minute on his way to parts unknown. A Yankee is something between a piece of tobacco and a squash pie — he's always spitting, that's the tobacco; and his complexion, that's the pie, --so he went on. This talk is just like Keats's l
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Letters and Journals of Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Chapter 2: the Worcester period (search)
t? But do you understand it? A long parlor, in a house on Charles Street like Louise's, looking on the beautiful river at full tide, and crowded from end to end with books and pictures. Beautiful engravings of great men, framed with an autograph below--Addison with a note to a friend to meet him at the Fountain Tavern; Pope, with a receipt for a subscription to the Iliad; Dickens, Tennyson, Scott, Washington, etc., each with an original note or manuscript below. An original drawing of Keats by Severn, his artist friend, in whose arms he died; given to Fields by Severn, as was also a lovely little oil painting of Ariel on the bat's back. Two superb photographs, of a wild, grand face, more like Professor Peirce than any one, with high, powerful brow, long face, masses of tangled hair, and full black beard; they might be a gipsy or a wandering painter or Paganini, or anything weird — and they are Tennyson. The next letter refers to a rising young author in whom Mr. Higginson
Mary Thacher Higginson, Thomas Wentworth Higginson: the story of his life, VI: in and out of the pulpit (search)
see. . . Sam Johnson of Salem, . . . who can help many troubles by his sheer Unconsciousness of the possibility of having them. Doubts as to his own success in his chosen profession sometimes recurred. In his second year of preaching, he mused:— I am weary of these lives that end early and leave only blossoms, not fruit, for a remembrance. Unless it is worth while to have me stay long enough on earth to produce something, it is not worth while to be remembered at all. Was this in Keats' mind, when he chose his epitaph Here lies one whose name was writ in water ? Should I go before I have borne not flowers only but fruit, I would have no biography written and have my epitaph 'T is not a life! 'T is but a piece of childhood thrown away! Later, after one of the annual family Thanksgiving parties in Brookline, Wentworth thus defined himself to his mother:— If not exactly one of the Hans Andersen's ugly ducks, I have always been an odd chicken. I have always been
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.), Chapter 10: Thoreau (search)
s after leaving Harvard. Perhaps the most significant memorial of his college career is the Latin letter he wrote to his sister Helen, in 1840. It gave him pleasure to use the language of Virgil and Cicero, for one of the many paradoxes in Thoreau's life was the union of true American contempt for tradition with an unaffected love of the classics. After a diatribe against the narrow religiosity of New England, he draws breath to praise the Ionian father of the rest, with the enthusiasm of Keats. There are few books which deserve to be remembered in our wisest hours, but the Iliad is brightest in the serenest days, and embodies still all the sunlight that fell in Asia Minor. No modern joy or ecstasy of ours can lower its height, or dim its lustre, but there it lies in the east of literature, as it were the earliest and latest production of the mind. From the wildwood simplicity of Walden, he startles the reader with deliverances which might have come from the Bodleian. Th
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