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Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, XXIII (search)
e best by seeing in how few lines he can put vividly before us some theme which Tennyson or Browning afterward hammers out into a long poem. In English literature there seemed to be developing, in the time of Addison, something of that steady, even, felicitous power which makes French prose so remarkable; but it has passed, since his day, possibly from excess of vigor, into a prolonged series of experiments. Johnson experimentalized in one direction, Coleridge in another; Landor, Macaulay, Carlyle, Ruskin, in other directions still; and the net result is an uncertain type of style, which has almost always vigor and sometimes beauty, but is liable at any moment to relapse into Rider Haggard and a fiddlestick's end. It is hard for our modest American speech to hold its own, now that the potent influence of Emerson has passed away; but we are lost unless we keep resolutely in mind that prose style ought not to be merely a bludgeon or a boomerang, but should be a weapon of precision.
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, XXV (search)
ay one rarely finds among Germans or Frenchmen. It comes, perhaps, from the habit of local self-government. If the streets are not well lighted, or if one's horse stumbles over an ill-kept pavement, the natural impulse is to complain of it to every one we meet, and to write about it in the local newspaper. Instead of putting only our strong points forward, we are always ready to discuss our weakest side. This must always be remembered in digesting the criticisms of Englishmen. Dickens, Carlyle, Ruskin, Arnold, have said nothing about Americans more unpleasant than they had previously said about their own countrymen; and why should we expect to fare any better? It is only in foreign countries that even we Americans stand up resolutely for our own land. I lived for some time with a returned fellow-countryman of very keen wit, who, after long residence in Europe, found nothing to please him at home. One day, meeting one of his European companions, I was asked, How is ——? Does he
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, Index (search)
's day, 62. Boyesen, H. H., 144, 171. Bremer, Fredrika, 57. Bridaine, Jacques, 215. Brougham, Henry, 224. Brown, Charles Brockden, 51. Brown, John, 16, 155. Brown, J. Brownlee, 104. Browning, Robert, 25, 54, 55, 98, 196. Bryant, W. C., 100, 147. Bryce, James, 120, 167, 211. Bulwer, see Lytton. Buntline, Ned, 199, 200. Burroughs, John, 114. Burton, Robert, 114. Byron, Lord, 178, 195, 217. C. Cable, G. W., 11, 67. Cabot, J. E., 175. Calderon, Serafin, 229, 232. Carlyle, Thomas, 37, 56, 197, 206, 217. Casanova, Jacques, 41. Catullus, 99. Cervantes, Miguel de, 229. Champlain, Samuel de, 192. Channing, E. T., 94 Channing, Walter, 214. Channing, W. E., 46, 66, 155. Channing, W. E. (of Concord), 103. Chaucer, Geoffrey, 179. Cherbuliez, Victor, 79. Chapelain, J., 91. Chaplin, H. W., 76. Chicago Anarchists, the, 68. Choate, Rufus, 213. Cicero, M. T., 4, 13,16, 171. City life, limitations of, 80. Claverhouse, Earl of, 47. Clemens, S. H.,
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 13. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), Orations at the unveiling of the statue of Stonewall Jackson, Richmond, Va., October 26th, 1875. (search)
like undertaking to describe Switzerland without making mention of the Alps, or to explain the fertility of the land of the Pharaohs without taking into account the enriching Nile. If what comes from the speaker to-day on this subject loses aught of its force because it is regarded as professional, he will deeply regret it. The same testimony might have more weight from the lips of many a statesman or soldier on these grounds to-day, but it would not be a whit more true. Sturdy old Thomas Carlyle, at all events, was not speaking professionally when he said: A man's religion is the chief fact with regard to him. The thing a man does practically lay to heart concerning his vital relation to this mysterious universe, and his duty and destiny there, that is in all cases the primary thing for him, and determines all the rest. It was surely the primary fact, the supreme fact in the history of General Jackson, and I cannot leave the subject without adding that those who confound his
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 30. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), Shall Cromwell have a statue? (search)
an. Whom do you wish us to resemble? Him you set on a high column, that all men, looking on it, may be continually apprised of the duty you expect from them. Thomas Carlyle, Latter-day Pamphlets. 1850 At about 3 o'clock of the afternoon of September 3, 1658, the day of Worcester and of Dunbar, and as a great tempest was wearid events of the commonwealth. I propose on this occasion to do so; and reverting to my text— Shall Cromwell have a Statue—and reading that text in the gloss of Carlyle's Latter-Day Pamphlet utterance, I quote you Horace's familiar precept, Mutato nomine, de te Fabula narratur, and ask abruptly, Shall Robert E. Lee have a statuep what we know as character—just so long will that type of man be held in affectionate, reverential memory. They have in them all the elements of the heroic. As Carlyle wrote more than half a century ago, so now: Whom do you wish to resemble? Him you set on a high column. Who is to have a statue? means, whom shall we consecra<
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 31. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), Hunter Holmes McGuire, M. D., Ll. D. (search)
is? How did the younger Pitt so lead captive the Commons of England, make impotent the resistless logic of Fox, the profound philosphy and the gorgeous rhetoric of Burke, and hold them unbroken, in his resistance to Napoleon's pride, until he himself was stricken to his death by the baleful rays of the Star of Austerlitz? In every human heart, however benighted by ignorance, debauched by sin, or depraved by crime, there remains a susceptibility to the ennobling influences of heroism. Thomas Carlyle has said: It will ever be so. We all love great men; love, venerate and bow down submissive before great men; nay, can we honestly bow down to anything else? Ah, does not every true man feel that he is himself made higher by doing reverence to what is really above him? No nobler or more blessed feeling dwells in man's heart; and to me it is very cheering to consider that no skeptical logic or general triviality, insincerity and aridity of any time and its influences can destroy this no
Southern Historical Society Papers, Volume 31. (ed. Reverend J. William Jones), Index. (search)
ethel, Battle of, 347. Bobbitt B. Boisseau, 339. Bond Captain, W. R., 235. Boteler, Hon. A. R., his house burned, 267. Bradford, U. S. Navy Admiral, 333. Breckinridge, General John C., 306. Bright. Captain R. A., 228, 356. Brooke, Colonel John M.,327. Brunswick Guards, Company H, 53d Va., roll of, 120. Buck, Captain Irving A., 162, 218. Bullock, captain n J. D., 71. Burton, W. L., 171. Cabell, W. L., 68. Canby, General E. R., 48. Capers, General F. W. 3. Carlyle, on whom to honor, 251. Cary, Misses Hettie and Constance, 70. Chaffin's Bluff Battalion, 141. Chancellorsville Battle of 282. Chambersburg Burning of, 261. Charlestown, Imboden's dash into, 11. Chickamauga, Battle of, 155, 360. Chisholm, Alexander Robert, 32. Christian, Hon. George L., 250, 340. City Battalion, Richmond, 25th Infantry, officers of 303. Cleburne, General P. R., sketch of, 151; death of 160; advocated enlistment of negroes 215. Cold Harbor, Bat
Jula Ward Howe, Reminiscences: 1819-1899, Chapter 7: marriage: tour in Europe (search)
Boston. Perkins here says that he'll patronize me. Thomas Carlyle was also one of our earliest visitors. Some time befo Mann, my sister, and myself drove out to Chelsea, where Mr. Carlyle resided at that time. In receiving us he apologized forngs myself. The conversation was mostly a monologue. Mr. Carlyle spoke with a strong Scotch accent, and his talk sounded h a flirt of his pen! Charles Sumner was spoken of, and Mr. Carlyle said, Oh yes; Mr. Sumner was a vera dull man, but he did not offend people, and he got on in society here. Carlyle's hair was dark, shaggy, and rather unkempt; his complexion war was the only person who at that time spoke to me of Thomas Carlyle, already so great a celebrity in America. He expressed great regard for Carlyle, who, he said, had formerly been his tutor. I was sorry to find in papers of Carlyle's, recently Carlyle's, recently published, a rather ungracious mention of this brilliant young man, whose early death was much regretted in English society.
Jula Ward Howe, Reminiscences: 1819-1899, Chapter 8: first years in Boston (search)
s were apostles of freedom, its poets sang the joy of living, not the bitterness of sin and death. These good things were brought to us piecemeal, by translations, by disciples. Dr. Hedge published an English rendering of some of the masterpieces of German prose. Longfellow gave us lovely versions of many poets. John S. Dwight produced his ever precious volume of translations of the minor poems of Goethe and Schiller. Margaret Fuller translated Eckermann's Conversations with Goethe. Carlyle wrote his wonderful essays, inspired by the new thought, and adding to it daring novelty of his own. The whole is matter of history now, quite beyond the domain of personal reminiscence. I have spoken of the transcendentalists and the abolitionists as if they had been quite distinct bodies of believers. Reflecting more deeply, I feel that both were features of the new movement. In the transcendentalists the enthusiasm of emancipated thought was paramount, while the abolitionists follo
Jula Ward Howe, Reminiscences: 1819-1899, Chapter 14: men and movements in the sixties (search)
of the Decalogue and the discipline of the church. My eldest daughter, then a girl of sixteen, said to me as we left the church, Mamma, I should think that Mr. James would wish the little Jameses not to wash their faces for fear it should make them suppose that they were clean. Mr. Emerson, to whom I repeated this remark, laughed quite heartily at it. In anecdote Mr. James was inexhaustible. His temperament was very mercurial, almost explosive. I remember a delightful lecture of his on Carlyle. I recall, too, a rather metaphysical discourse which he read in John Dwight's parlors, to a select audience. When we went below stairs to put on our wraps, I asked a witty friend whether she had enjoyed the lecture. She replied that she had, but added, I would give anything at this moment for a look at a good fat idiot, which seemed to show that the tension of mind produced by the lecture had not been without pain. I once had a long talk with Mr. James on immortality. I had recentl
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