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Margaret Fuller, Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli (ed. W. H. Channing), chapter 1 (search)
h at him?—Yet the one we would wish to be is thyself, Cervantes, unconquerable spirit! gaining flavor and color like wine from every change, while being carried round the world; in whose eye the serene sagacious laughter could not be dimmed by poverty, slavery, or unsuccessful authorship. Thou art to us still more the Man, though less the Genius, than Shakspeare; thou dost not evade our sight, but, holding the lamp to thine own magic shows, dost enjoy them with us. My third friend was Moliere, one very much lower, both in range and depth, than the others, but, as far as he goes, or the same character. Nothing secluded or partial is there about his genius,— a man of the world, and a man by himself, as he is. It was, indeed, only the poor social world of Paris that he saw, but he viewed it from the firm foundations of his manhood, and every lightest laugh rings from a clear perception, and teaches life anew. These men were all alike in this,—they loved the natural history of m<
Margaret Fuller, Memoirs of Margaret Fuller Ossoli (ed. W. H. Channing), chapter 4 (search)
e was well read in French, Italian, and German literature. She had learned Latin and a little Greek. But her English reading was incomplete; and, while she knew Moliere, and Rousseau, and any quantity of French letters, memoirs, and novels, and was a dear student of Dante and Petrarca, and knew German books more cordially than ane Thou, or the Memoirs of the House of Nevers? I do not think this is a respectable way of passing my summer, but I cannot help it. I never read any life of Moliere. Are the acts very interesting? You see clearly in his writing what he was: a man not high, not poetic; but firm, wide, genuine, whose clearsightedness only madshowing those myriad mean faults of the social man, and yet make no nearer approach to misanthropy than his Alceste. These witty Frenchmen, Rabelais, Montaigne, Moliere, are great as were their marshals and preux chevaliers; when the Frenchman tries to be poetical, he becomes theatrical, but he can be romantic, and also dignified
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, X (search)
ds are extinguished and obscure brows grow bright. Posterity means night for some, dawn to others. Who would to-day believe, he asks, that the obscure writer Chapelain passed for long years as the greatest poet, not alone of France, but the whole world (le plus grand poete, nonseule-ment de France, mais du monde entier), and that nobody less potent than the Duchesse de Longueville would have dared to go to sleep over his poem of La Pucelle? Yet this was in the time of Corneille, Racine, Moliere, and La Fontaine. Heine points out that it is not enough for a poet to utter his own sympathies, he must also reach those of his audience. The audience, he thinks, is often like some hungry Bedouin Arab in the desert, who thinks he has found a sack of pease and opens it eagerly; but, alas! they are only pearls! With what discontent did the audience of Emerson's day inspect his precious stones! Even now Matthew Arnold shakes his head over them and finds Longfellow's little sentimental
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, XXII (search)
n a hundred titles have been added to the Dante list, for instance, during the past year; and the Petrarch quinquecentennial called forth one hundred and twenty-five new works about that poet in Italy alone. If anything is certain, it is that, when the world has once definitely accepted a man as among the elect, his fame and his lead over his contemporaries go on increasing with the passing years. It is possible that the Academie Francaise may yet be chiefly remembered because it rejected Moliere, as the mighty Persian conqueror had a place in fame simply as one who knew not the worth of Firdousi. Literature, it has been said, is attar of roses: one distilled drop from a million petals. Those who learned their Italian nearly half a century ago will remember that the favorite text-book was named, The Four Poets (I Quattro Poeti). But Ariosto and Tasso are now practically dropped out of the running; and those who still read Petrarch are expected to treat rather deferentially thos
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, XXVIII (search)
e Austen, and are trying to find in that staid and exemplary lady the founder of the realistic school, and the precursor of Zola. Among contemporary novelists, Mr. Howells places the Russian first, then the Spanish; ranking the English, and even the French, far lower. He is also said, in a recent interview, to have attributed his own style largely to the influence of Heine. But Heine himself, in the preface to his Deutschland, names as his own especial models Aristophanes, Cervantes, and Moliere —a Greek, a Spaniard, and a Frenchman. Goethe himself thinks that we cannot comprehend Calderon without Hafiz,— Nur wer Hafis liebt und kennt Weiss was Calderon gesungen,— and Fitzgerald, following this suggestion almost literally, translated Calderon first, and then Omar Khayyam. Surely, one might infer, the era of a world-literature must be approaching. Yet in looking over the schedules of our American universities, one finds as little reference to a coming world-literature as i<
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, Index (search)
181. 182. M. Macaulay, T. B., 25, 197. Madonnas, Emily Dickinson's definition of, 16. Maine, Sir Henry, 5, 32. Make thy option which of two, 170. Marlowe, Christopher, 52. Martel, Charles, 209. Mason, William, 218. Matthews, Brander, 12. Maturin, C. R., 51. McCosh, James, 111. Menzel, C. A., 90. Metropolis, a literary, 77. Millais, .,. E., 53. Miller, Joaquin, 20. Millet, J. F., 53. Miles, see Houghton. Mohammed, 109, 223. Mohammed and Bonaparte, 109. Moliere, J. B. P. de, 92, 186, 229. Montagu, Elizabeth, 52. Moore, Thomas, 178, 179. Morgan, Lady, 59. Morley, John, 167. Morris, William, 68. Motley, J. L., 2, 6, 7, 36, 59, 60, 221. Motley, Preble, 222. Mozart, W. A., 188. Miller, Max, 171. Murfree, Mary N., 11, 58. N. Newton, Sir, Isaac, 125. Newton, Stuart, 49. New World and New Book, the, 1. Nichol, John, 61. Niebuhr, B. G., 4. Novalis, see Hardenberg. Norton, C. E., 179, 180, 208. O. Ossoli, Margaret Fuller,
Jula Ward Howe, Reminiscences: 1819-1899, Chapter 10: a chapter about myself (search)
with my heart. The first writer of importance with whom I made acquaintance after leaving school was Gibbon, whose Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire occupied me during one entire winter. I have already mentioned my early familiarity with the French and Italian languages. In these respective literatures I read the works which in those days were usually commended to young women. These were, in French, Lamartine's poems and travels, Chateaubriand's Atala and Rene, Racine's tragedies, Moliere's comedies; in Italian, Metastasio, Tasso, Alfieri's dramas and autobiography. Under dear Dr. Cogswell's tuition, I read Schiller's plays and prose writings with delight. In later years, Goethe, Herder, Jean Paul Richter, were added to my repertory. I read Dante with Felice Foresti, and such works of Sand and Balzac as were allowed within my reach. I had early acquired some knowledge of Latin, and in later life found great pleasure in reading the essays and Tusculan dissertations of Cic
Jula Ward Howe, Reminiscences: 1819-1899, Index (search)
t, Mrs., a New Orleans lady, addresses the colored people, 398. Metastasio, dramas of, read, 57, 206. Milan, the Howes in, 119, 120. Milnes, Richard Monckton. See Houghton, Lord. Milton, John, his Paradise Lost used as a text-book, 58. Mitchell, Maria, her character and attainments: signs the call for a congress of women, 385; becomes the president in 1876, 387; lectures to the Town and Country Club, 406. Mitchell, Dr., Weir, lectures to the Town and Country Club, 406. Moliere, his comedies read, 206. Monza, trip to, 119. Moore, Prof., at Columbia College, 23. Moral Philosophy, William Paley's, 13. Morecchini, Monsignore, minister of public charities at Rome, 124. Morpeth, George, Lord (afterwards seventh earl of Carlisle), at Lansdowne House, 102, 103; Sydney Smith's dream about, 107; takes the Howes to Pentonville prison, 109. Motley, John Lothrop, at school with Tom Appleton, 433. Mott, Lucretia, 166; at the Radical Club, 283. Moulton,
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 7. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier), Zzz Missing head (search)
Slavery. It is a sad thing to find so much intellectual power as Carlyle really possesses so little under the control of the moral sentiments. In some of his earlier writings—as, for instance, his beautiful tribute to the Corn Law Rhymer—we thought we saw evidence of a warm and generous sympathy with the poor and the wronged, a desire to ameliorate human suffering, which would have done credit to the philanthropisms of Exeter Hall and the Abolition of Pain Society. Latterly, however, like Moliere's quack, he has changed all that; his heart has got upon the wrong side; or rather, he seems to us very much in the condition of the coal-burner in the German tale, who had swapped his heart of flesh for a cobble-stone. Formation of the American Anti-slavery Society. A letter to William Lloyd Garrison, President of the Society. Amesbury, 24th 11th mo., 1863. my dear friend,—I have received thy kind letter, with the accompanying circular, inviting me to attend the commemorati<
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Chapter 15: Academic life in Cambridge (search)
ngs, and was therefore a little less dreary than the ordinary class-room of those days. It seemed most appropriate that an instructor of Longfellow's well-bred aspect and ever-courteous manners should simply sit at the head of the table with his scholars, as if they were guests, instead of putting between him and them the restrictive demarcation of a teacher's desk. We read with him, I remember, first the little book he edited, Proverbes Dramatiques, and afterwards something of Racine and Moliere, in which his faculty of finding equivalent phrases was an admirable example for us. When afterwards, during an abortive rebellion in the college yard, the students who had refused to listen to others yielded to the demand of their ringleader, Let us hear Professor Longfellow; he always treats us like gentlemen, the youthful rebel unconsciously recognized a step forward in academical discipline. Longfellow did not cultivate us much personally, or ask us to his house, but he remembered us
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