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New England (United States) (search for this): chapter 6
hat I really mastered the difficulties of the language. It was while I was thus engaged that my eldest brother returned from Germany. In conversing with him, I acquired the use of colloquial German. Having, as I have said, the command of his fine library, I was soon deep in Goethe's Faust and Wilhelm Meister, reading also the works of Jean Paul, Matthias Claudius, and Herder. Thus was a new influence introduced into the life of one who had been brought up after the strictest rule of New England Puritanism. I derived from these studies a sense of intellectual freedom so new to me that it was half delightful, half alarming. My father undertook one day to read an English translation of Faust. He presently came to me and said,— My daughter, I hope that you have not read this wicked book! I must say, even after an interval of sixty years, that I do not consider Wilhelm Meister altogether good reading for the youth of our country. Its great author introduces into his recital
Milton, Mass. (Massachusetts, United States) (search for this): chapter 6
re printed in various papers, attracting some notice. I set them to music of my own, and sang them often, to the accompaniment of a guitar. Although the reading of Byron was sparingly conceded to us, and that of Shelley forbidden, the morbid discontent which characterized these poets made itself felt in our community as well as in England. Here, as elsewhere, it brought into fashion a certain romantic melancholy. It is true that at school we read Cow. per's Task, and did our parsing on Milton's Paradise Lost, but what were these in comparison with:— The cold in clime are cold in blood, or:— I loved her, Father, nay, adored. After my brother's return from Europe, I read such works of George Sand and Balzac as he would allow me to choose from his library. Of the two writers, George Sand appeared to me by far the superior, though I then knew of her works only Les Sept Cordes de la Lyre, Spiridion, Jacques, and Andre. It was at least ten years after this time that Consu
Wilhelm Meister (search for this): chapter 6
It was while I was thus engaged that my eldest brother returned from Germany. In conversing with him, I acquired the use of colloquial German. Having, as I have said, the command of his fine library, I was soon deep in Goethe's Faust and Wilhelm Meister, reading also the works of Jean Paul, Matthias Claudius, and Herder. Thus was a new influence introduced into the life of one who had been brought up after the strictest rule of New England Puritanism. I derived from these studies a sensather undertook one day to read an English translation of Faust. He presently came to me and said,— My daughter, I hope that you have not read this wicked book! I must say, even after an interval of sixty years, that I do not consider Wilhelm Meister altogether good reading for the youth of our country. Its great author introduces into his recital scenes and personages calculated to awaken strange discords in a mind ignorant of any greater wrong than the small sins of a well-ordered ho
Percy Bysshe Shelley (search for this): chapter 6
nt of the fall of Constantinople. Such successes as I did manage to achieve were in quite a different line, that of lyric poetry. A beloved music-master, Daniel Schlesinger, falling ill and dying, I attended his funeral and wrote some stanzas descriptive of the scene, which were printed in various papers, attracting some notice. I set them to music of my own, and sang them often, to the accompaniment of a guitar. Although the reading of Byron was sparingly conceded to us, and that of Shelley forbidden, the morbid discontent which characterized these poets made itself felt in our community as well as in England. Here, as elsewhere, it brought into fashion a certain romantic melancholy. It is true that at school we read Cow. per's Task, and did our parsing on Milton's Paradise Lost, but what were these in comparison with:— The cold in clime are cold in blood, or:— I loved her, Father, nay, adored. After my brother's return from Europe, I read such works of George Sa
Goethe (search for this): chapter 6
urned from Germany. In conversing with him, I acquired the use of colloquial German. Having, as I have said, the command of his fine library, I was soon deep in Goethe's Faust and Wilhelm Meister, reading also the works of Jean Paul, Matthias Claudius, and Herder. Thus was a new influence introduced into the life of one who h calculated to awaken strange discords in a mind ignorant of any greater wrong than the small sins of a well-ordered household. Although disapproving greatly of Goethe, my father took a certain pride in my literary accomplishments, and was much pleased, I think, at the commendation which followed some of my early efforts. One of these, a brief essay on the minor poems of Goethe and Schiller, was published in the New York Review, perhaps in 1848, and was spoken of in the North American of that time as a charming paper, said to have been written by a lady. I have already said that a vision of some important literary work which I should accomplish was p
Daniel Schlesinger (search for this): chapter 6
there went with me the vision of some great work or works which I myself should give to the world. I should write the novel or play of the age. This, I need not say, I never did. I made indeed some progress in a drama founded upon Scott's novel of Kenil-worth, but presently relinquished this to begin a play suggested by Gibbon's account of the fall of Constantinople. Such successes as I did manage to achieve were in quite a different line, that of lyric poetry. A beloved music-master, Daniel Schlesinger, falling ill and dying, I attended his funeral and wrote some stanzas descriptive of the scene, which were printed in various papers, attracting some notice. I set them to music of my own, and sang them often, to the accompaniment of a guitar. Although the reading of Byron was sparingly conceded to us, and that of Shelley forbidden, the morbid discontent which characterized these poets made itself felt in our community as well as in England. Here, as elsewhere, it brought into
Paradise Lost (search for this): chapter 6
characterized these poets made itself felt in our community as well as in England. Here, as elsewhere, it brought into fashion a certain romantic melancholy. It is true that at school we read Cow. per's Task, and did our parsing on Milton's Paradise Lost, but what were these in comparison with:— The cold in clime are cold in blood, or:— I loved her, Father, nay, adored. After my brother's return from Europe, I read such works of George Sand and Balzac as he would allow me to choosom I had been taught to worship was the God of any peoples outside the limits of Judaism and Christendom. The suggestion shocked me at first, but, later on, gave me much satisfaction. Another such moment I recall when, having carefully read Paradise Lost to the very end, I saw presented before me the picture of an eternal evil, of Satan and his ministers subjugated indeed by God, but not conquered, and able to maintain against Him an opposition as eternal as his goodness. This appeared to me
Francis L. Hawkes (search for this): chapter 6
rienced sought relief in expression, and took form in a small collection of poems, which Margaret Fuller urged me to publish, but which have never seen the light, and never will. Among the friends who frequented my father's house was the Rev. Francis L. Hawkes, long the pastor of a very prominent and fashionable Episcopal church in New York. I remember that on one occasion he began to abuse my Germans in good earnest for their irreligion and infidelity, of which I, indeed, knew nothing. I is whom he so unsparingly condemned. He was forced to confess that he had not, but presently turned upon me, quite indignant that I should have asked such a question. I recall another occasion on which the anti-slavery agitation was spoken of. Dr. Hawkes condemned it very severely, and said: If I could get hold of one of those men who are trying to stir up the slaves of the South to cut their masters' throats, I would hang him to that lamp-post. An uncle of mine who was present said: Doctor, I
William Paley (search for this): chapter 6
what was going on around me. My early education, received at home, interested me more than most of my school work. While one person devoted time and attention to me, I repaid the effort to my best ability. In the classes of my schooldays, the contact between teacher and pupil was less immediate. I shall always remember with pleasure Mrs. B.'s Conversations on Chemistry, which I studied with great pleasure, albeit that I never saw one of the experiments therein described. I remember that Paley's Evidences of Christianity interested me more than his Philosophy, and that Blair's Rhetoric, with its many quotations from the poets, was a delight to me. As I have before said, I was not inapt at algebra and geometry, but was too indolent to acquire any mastery in mathematics. The French language was somehow burnt into my mind by a cruel French teacher, who made my lessons as unpleasant as possible. My fear of him was so great that I really exerted myself seriously to meet his requirem
Blair (search for this): chapter 6
re than most of my school work. While one person devoted time and attention to me, I repaid the effort to my best ability. In the classes of my schooldays, the contact between teacher and pupil was less immediate. I shall always remember with pleasure Mrs. B.'s Conversations on Chemistry, which I studied with great pleasure, albeit that I never saw one of the experiments therein described. I remember that Paley's Evidences of Christianity interested me more than his Philosophy, and that Blair's Rhetoric, with its many quotations from the poets, was a delight to me. As I have before said, I was not inapt at algebra and geometry, but was too indolent to acquire any mastery in mathematics. The French language was somehow burnt into my mind by a cruel French teacher, who made my lessons as unpleasant as possible. My fear of him was so great that I really exerted myself seriously to meet his requirements. I have profited in later life by his severity, having been able not only to s
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