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Weimar (Thuringia, Germany) (search for this): chapter 25
and these did not come from Oxford and Cambridge only, since in 1873 he was chosen a member of the Russian Academy of Sciences, and in 1877 of the Spanish Academy. At home he was the honored member of every literary club or association to which he cared to belong. In the half-rural city where he spent his maturer life—that which he himself described in Hyperion as this leafy blossoming, and beautiful Cambridge—he held a position of as unquestioned honor and reverence as that of Goethe at Weimar or Jean Paul at Baireuth. This was the more remarkable, as he rarely attended public meetings, seldom volunteered counsel or action, and was not seen very much in public. But his weight was always thrown on the right side; he took an unfeigned interest in public matters, always faithful to the traditions of his friend Sumner; and his purse was always easily opened for all good works. On one occasion there was something like a collision of opinion between him and the city government, when
University City (Missouri, United States) (search for this): chapter 25
n which is often mistaken for that of the American. Indeed, the beauty of his home life remained always visible. Living constantly in the same old house with its storied associations, surrounded by children and their friends, mingling with what remained of his earlier friends,—with his younger brother, a most accomplished and lovable person, forming one of his own family, and his younger sister living near him in a house of her own,—he was also easily the first citizen of the little University City. Giving readily his time and means to all public interests, even those called political, his position was curiously unlike that of the more wayward or detached poets. Later his two married daughters built houses close by and bore children, and the fields were full of their playmates, representing the exuberant life of a new generation. He still kept his health, and as he walked to and fro his very presence was a benediction. Some of his old friends had been unfortunate in life and
Venice (Italy) (search for this): chapter 25
ongfellow, with all his gentle modesty, had a quiet wit of his own and was never wholly a silent partner. His saying of Ruskin, for instance, that he had grand passages of rhetoric, Iliads in nutshells; of some one else, that Criticism is double edged. It criticises him who receives and him who gives; his description of the contented Dutch tradesman whose golden face, like the round and ruddy physiognomy of the sun on the sign of a village tavern, seems to say Good entertainment here; of Venice, that it is so visionary and fairylike that one is almost afraid to set foot on the ground, lest he should sink the city; of authorship, that it is a mystery to many people that an author should reveal to the public secrets that he shrinks from telling to his most intimate friends; that nothing is more dangerous to an author than sudden success, because the patience of genius is one of its most precious attributes; that he who carries his bricks to the building of every one's house will neve
Brookline (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 25
ture refreshment were never wanting, though perhaps in simpler guise than now. It needs but to turn the pages of his memoirs as written by his brother to see that with the agreeable moderation of French or Italian gentlemen, he joined their daintiness of palate and their appreciation of choice vintages, and this at a time when the physiological standard was less advanced than now, and a judicious attention to the subject was for that reason better appreciated. His friends from Boston and Brookline came so constantly and so easily as to suggest afar greater facility of conveyance than that of today, although the real facts were quite otherwise. One can hardly wonder that the bard's muse became a little festive under circumstances so very favorable. His earlier circle of friends known as the five of clubs included Professor Felton, whom Dickens called the heartiest of Greek professors; Charles Sumner; George S. Hillard, Sumner's law partner; and Henry R. Cleveland, a retired teacher
Holland (Netherlands) (search for this): chapter 25
was a recipient only. Of course Holmes and Lowell, the most naturally talkative of the party, would usually have the lion's share of the conversation; but Longfellow, with all his gentle modesty, had a quiet wit of his own and was never wholly a silent partner. His saying of Ruskin, for instance, that he had grand passages of rhetoric, Iliads in nutshells; of some one else, that Criticism is double edged. It criticises him who receives and him who gives; his description of the contented Dutch tradesman whose golden face, like the round and ruddy physiognomy of the sun on the sign of a village tavern, seems to say Good entertainment here; of Venice, that it is so visionary and fairylike that one is almost afraid to set foot on the ground, lest he should sink the city; of authorship, that it is a mystery to many people that an author should reveal to the public secrets that he shrinks from telling to his most intimate friends; that nothing is more dangerous to an author than sudde
Oscar Wilde (search for this): chapter 25
The wonder of Mr. Longfellow's later years was not so much that he kept up his incessant literary activity as that he did it in the midst of the constant interruptions involved in great personal popularity and fame. He had received beneath his roof every notable person who had visited Boston for half a century; he had met them all with the same affability, and had consented, with equal graciousness, to be instructed by Emerson and Sumner, or to be kindly patronized—as the story goes—by Oscar Wilde. From that room had gone forth innumerable kind acts and good deeds, and never a word of harshness. He retained to the last his sympathy with young people, and with all liberal and progressive measures. Indeed, almost his latest act of public duty was to sign a petition to the Massachusetts legislature for the relief of the disabilities still placed in that State upon the testimony of atheists. Mr. Longfellow's general health remained tolerably good, in spite of advancing years, un
id not come from Oxford and Cambridge only, since in 1873 he was chosen a member of the Russian Academy of Sciences, and in 1877 of the Spanish Academy. At home he was the honored member of every literary club or association to which he cared to belong. In the half-rural city where he spent his maturer life—that which he himself described in Hyperion as this leafy blossoming, and beautiful Cambridge—he held a position of as unquestioned honor and reverence as that of Goethe at Weimar or Jean Paul at Baireuth. This was the more remarkable, as he rarely attended public meetings, seldom volunteered counsel or action, and was not seen very much in public. But his weight was always thrown on the right side; he took an unfeigned interest in public matters, always faithful to the traditions of his friend Sumner; and his purse was always easily opened for all good works. On one occasion there was something like a collision of opinion between him and the city government, when it was thou
John Wolfgang Von Goethe (search for this): chapter 25
gn honors; and these did not come from Oxford and Cambridge only, since in 1873 he was chosen a member of the Russian Academy of Sciences, and in 1877 of the Spanish Academy. At home he was the honored member of every literary club or association to which he cared to belong. In the half-rural city where he spent his maturer life—that which he himself described in Hyperion as this leafy blossoming, and beautiful Cambridge—he held a position of as unquestioned honor and reverence as that of Goethe at Weimar or Jean Paul at Baireuth. This was the more remarkable, as he rarely attended public meetings, seldom volunteered counsel or action, and was not seen very much in public. But his weight was always thrown on the right side; he took an unfeigned interest in public matters, always faithful to the traditions of his friend Sumner; and his purse was always easily opened for all good works. On one occasion there was something like a collision of opinion between him and the city governm
John L. Motley (search for this): chapter 25
nd truthful, and would bear recalling when many a brilliant stroke of wit had sparkled on the surface and gone under. As a mere critic he grew more amiable and tolerant as he grew older, as is the wont of literary men; and John Dwight, then the recognized head of the musical brotherhood of Boston, always maintained that Longfellow was its worst enemy by giving his warm indorsement to the latest comer, whatever his disqualifications as to style or skill. Holmes said of him in a letter to Motley in 1873:— I find a singular charm in the society of Longfellow,—a soft voice, a sweet and cheerful temper, a receptive rather than aggressive intelligence, the agreeable flavor of scholarship without any pedantic ways, and a perceptible soupcon of the humor, not enough to startle or surprise or keep you under the strain of over-stimulation, which I am apt to feel with very witty people. And ten years later, writing to a friend and referring to his verses on the death of Longfelfellow,
John Dwight (search for this): chapter 25
; that nothing is more dangerous to an author than sudden success, because the patience of genius is one of its most precious attributes; that he who carries his bricks to the building of every one's house will never build one for himself; —these were all fresh, racy, and truthful, and would bear recalling when many a brilliant stroke of wit had sparkled on the surface and gone under. As a mere critic he grew more amiable and tolerant as he grew older, as is the wont of literary men; and John Dwight, then the recognized head of the musical brotherhood of Boston, always maintained that Longfellow was its worst enemy by giving his warm indorsement to the latest comer, whatever his disqualifications as to style or skill. Holmes said of him in a letter to Motley in 1873:— I find a singular charm in the society of Longfellow,—a soft voice, a sweet and cheerful temper, a receptive rather than aggressive intelligence, the agreeable flavor of scholarship without any pedantic ways, and<
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