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Typhon (search for this): chapter 4
Mystique, in which an equivocal figure exerts alternately a masculine and a feminine influence on the characters of the plot. Of all this nocturnal element in her nature she was very conscious, and was disposed, of course, to give it as fine names as it would carry, and to draw advantage from it. Attica, she said to a friend, is your province, Thessaly is mine: Attica produced the marble wonders of the great geniuses; but Thessaly is the land of magic. I have a great share of Typhon to the Osiris, wild rush and leap, blind force for the sake of force. Dante, thou didst not describe, in all thy apartments bf Inferno, this tremendous repression of an existence half unfolded; this swoon as the soul was ready to be born. Every year I live, I dislike routine more and more, though I see that society rests on that, and other falsehoods. The more I screw myself down to hours, the more I become expert at giving out thought and life in regulated rations,—the more I weary
Schneider (search for this): chapter 4
ragen nicht nach Mann und Weib. It is regulated by the same law as that of love between persons of different sexes; only it is purely intellectual and spiritual. Its law is the desire of the spirit to realize a whole, which makes it seek in another being what it finds not in itself. Thus the beautiful seek the strong, and the strong the beautiful; the mute seeks the eloquent, &c.; the butterfly settles always on the dark flower. Why did Socrates love Alcibiades? Why did Korner love Schneider? How natural is the love of Wallenstein for Max; that of De Stael for De Recamier; mine for——. I loved—— for a time, with as much passion as I was then strong enough to feel. Her face was always gleaming before me; her voice was always echoing in my ear; all poetic thoughts clustered round the dear image. This love was a key which unlocked for me many a treasure which I still possess; it was the carbuncle which cast light into many of the darkest caverns of human nature. She loved me
Bacchus (search for this): chapter 4
hom a gallery is everywhere a home. In this country, the antique is known only by plaster casts, and by drawings. The Boston ATHENAeUM, —on whose sunny roof and beautiful chambers may the benediction of centuries of students rest with mine! —added to its library, in 1823, a small, but excellent museum of the antique sculpture, in plaster;—the selection being dictated, it is said, by no less an adviser than Canova. The Apollo, the Laocoon, the Venuses, Diana, the head of the Phidian Jove, Bacchus, Antinous, the Torso Hercules, the Discobolus, the Gladiator Borghese, the Apollino,—all these, and more, the sumptuous gift of Augustus Thorndike. It is much that one man should have power to confer on so many, who never saw him, a benefit so pure and enduring. To these were soon added a heroic line of antique busts, and, at last, by Horatio Greenough, the Night and Day of Michel Angelo. Here was old Greece and old Italy brought bodily to New England, and a verification given to all
Andre Chenier (search for this): chapter 4
nt of leisure hours; and, though few could write it, chiefly valuable to the writer. Here he has arranged, as in a bouquet, what he knew, —and a great deal it is,—of the time of Louis XIII. as he has of the Regency in La Marechale d'ancre, —a much finer work, indeed one of the best-arranged and finished modern dramas. The Leonora Galigai is better than anything I have seen in Victor Hugo, and as good as Schiller. Stello is a bolder attempt. It is the history of three poets,—Gilbert, Andre Chenier, Chatterton. He has also written a drama called Chatterton, inferior to the story here. The marvellous boy seems to have captivated his imagination marvellously. In thought, these productions are worthless; for taste, beauty of sentiment, and power of description, remarkable. His advocacy of the poets' cause is about as effective and well-planned as Don Quixote's tourney with the wind-mill. How would you provide for the poet bon homme De Vigny?—from a joint-stock company Poet's F
Edward Everett (search for this): chapter 4
uch effigies, he might not feel called to such greatness as the strong Roman wrinkles tell of, but he must feel that he could not live an idle life, and should nerve himself to lift an Atlas weight without repining or shrinking. The busts of Everett and Allston, though admirable as every-day likenesses, deserved a genius of a different order from Clevenger. Clevenger gives the man as he is at the moment, but does not show the possibilities of his existence. Even thus seen, the head of Mr.Mr. Everett brings back all the age of Pericles, so refined and classic is its beauty. The two busts of Mr. Webster, by Clevenger and Powers, are the difference between prose,— healthy and energetic prose, indeed, but still prose,—and poetry. Clevenger's is such as we see Mr. Webster on any public occasion, when his genius is not called forth. No child could fail to recognize it in a moment. Powers' is not so good as a likeness, but has the higher merit of being an ideal of the orator and sta
Thomas Browne (search for this): chapter 4
erature. 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 any other person, she was little read in Shakspeare; and I believe I had the pleasure of making her acquainted with Chaucer, with Ben Jonson, with Herbert, Chapman, Ford, Beaumont and Fletcher, with Bacon, and Sir Thomas Browne. I was seven years her senior, and had the habit of idle reading in old English books, and, though not much versed, yet quite enough to give me the right to lead her. She fancied that her sympathy and taste had led her to an exclusive culture of southern European books. She had large experiences. She had been a precocious scholar at Dr. Park's school; good in mathematics and in languages. Her father, whom she had recently lost, had been proud of her, and petted her. She had drawn
Tasso (search for this): chapter 4
hero, who has, without their feeling it moulded their existence. Tasso, says Rousseau, has predicted my misfortunes. Have you remarked that Tasso has this peculiarity, that you cannot take from his work a single strophe, nor from any strophe a single line, nor from any line a son with those that precede or follow it; it is absolutely useless. Tasso probably wrote it involuntarily, and without comprehending it himself. As to the impossibility of taking from Tasso without disarranging the poem, &c., I dare say 'tis not one whit more justly said of his,and the genius of the north better than I did. Dante, Petrarca, Tasso, were her friends among the old poets,—for to Ariosto she assigned distinctions as final and eternal, all charmed her; and Faust, and Tasso, and Mignon, and Makaria, and Iphigenia, became irresistible names.lver sweet in the tone, generous nobility in the impulses. Poor Tasso in the play offered his love and service too officiously to all. Th
Farrar (search for this): chapter 4
in her own journal, of a visit, made by my brother Charles and myself, to Miss Martineau, at Mrs. Farrar's. It was not, however, till the next July, after a little diplomatizing in billets by the la are alive with proofs of generous friendship given and received. Among her early friends, Mrs. Farrar, of Cambridge, appears to have discovered, at a critical moment in her career, the extraordinemoving all superficial blemishes from the gem. In a well-chosen travelling party, made up by Mrs. Farrar, and which turned out to be the beginning of much happiness by the friendships then formed, Mf Miss Martineau, whose friendship, at that moment, was an important stimulus to her mind. Mrs. Farrar performed for her, thenceforward, all the offices of an almost maternal friendship. She admiugh, after her father died, the disappointment of not going to Europe with Miss Martineau and Mrs. Farrar was extreme, and her mother and sister wished her to take her portion of the estate and go; a
Pericles (search for this): chapter 4
ery-day likenesses, deserved a genius of a different order from Clevenger. Clevenger gives the man as he is at the moment, but does not show the possibilities of his existence. Even thus seen, the head of Mr. Everett brings back all the age of Pericles, so refined and classic is its beauty. The two busts of Mr. Webster, by Clevenger and Powers, are the difference between prose,— healthy and energetic prose, indeed, but still prose,—and poetry. Clevenger's is such as we see Mr. Webster on anywe address those still more unknown? Shall we multiply our connections, and thus make them still more superficial? I would go into the crowd, and meet men for the day, to help them for the day, but for that intercourse which most becomes us. Pericles, Anaxagoras, Aspasia, Cleone, is circle wide enough for me. I should think all the resources of my nature, and all the tribute it could enforce from external nature, none too much to furnish the banquet for this circle. But where to find fit
Crawford (search for this): chapter 4
e entertainments were shared with many admirers, and, as I now remember them, certain months about the years 1839, 1840, seem colored with the genius of these Italians. Our walls were hung with prints of the Sistine frescoes; we were all petty collectors; and prints of Correggio and Guercino took the place, for the time, of epics and philosophy. In the summer of 1839, Boston was still more rightfully adorned with the Allston Gallery; and the sculptures of our compatriots Greenough, and Crawford, and Powers, were brought hither. The following lines were addressed by Margaret to the Orpheus:— Crawfords Orpheus. Each Orpheus must to the abyss descend, For only thus the poet can be wise,— Must make the sad Persephone his friend, And buried love to second life arise; Again his love must lose, through too much love, Must lose his life by living life too true; For what he sought below has passed above, Already done is all that he would do; Must tune all being with his single lyre; M
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