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Pope (search for this): chapter 3
is more meat in proportion to the bone. Going beyond mere carnal desires, we read also the wholesome directions to those who are not ashamed of economy. We were informed that children could early learn to take care of their own clothes, --a responsibility at which we shuddered; and also that it was a good thing for children to pick blackberries,--in which we heartily concurred. There, too, we were taught to pick up twine and paper, to write on the backs of old letters, like paper-sparing Pope, and if we had a dollar a day, which seemed a wild supposition, to live on seventy-five cents. We all read, too, with interest, the hints on the polishing of furniture and the education of daughters, and got our first glimpses of political economy from the Reasons for hard times. So varied and comprehensive was the good sense of the book that it surely would have seemed to our childish minds infallible, but for one fatal admission, which through life I have recalled with dismay,the assertion
Juvenile Miscellany (search for this): chapter 3
emed to supply a sufficient literature for any family through her own unaided pen. Thence came novels for the parlor, cookery-books for the kitchen, and the Juvenile Miscellany for the nursery. In later years the intellectual provision still continued. We learned, from her anti-slavery writings, where to find our duties; from herpt where her later anti-slavery action interfered. She opened a private school in Watertown, which lasted from 1825 to 1828. She established, in 1827, the Juvenile Miscellany, that delightful pioneer among children's magazines in America; and it was continued for eight years. In October, 1828, she was married to David Lee Child, that time lay so near her heart. There was more sunshine in her next literary task, for, in 1852, she collected three small volumes of her stories from the Juvenile Miscellany, and elsewhere, under the title of Flowers for children. In 1853 she published her next book, entitled Isaac T. Hopper; a true life. This gave another n
Swinburne (search for this): chapter 3
I well remember the admiration with which this romance was hailed; and for me personally it was one of those delights of boyhood which the criticism of maturity cannot disturb. What mattered it if she brought Anaxagoras and Plato on the stage together, whereas in truth the one died about the year when the other was born? What mattered it if in her book the classic themes were treated in a romantic spirit? That is the fate of almost all such attempts; compare for instance the choruses of Swinburne's Atalanta, which might have been written on the banks of the Rhine, and very likely were. But childhood never wishes to discriminate, only to combine; a period of life which likes to sugar its bread-and-butter prefers also to have its classic and romantic in one. Philothea was Mrs. Child's first attempt to return, with her anti-slavery cross still upon her, into the ranks of literature. Mrs. S. J. Hale, who, in her Woman's record, reproves her sister writer for wasting her soul's wea
Burke (search for this): chapter 3
miliar to every one who reads our history; and others, on the contrary, will say that the character of the book is quite too tranquil for its title. I might mention many doubts and fears still more important; but I prefer silently to trust this humble volume to that futurity which no one can foresee and every one can read. The fears must soon have seemed useless, for the young novelist soon became almost a fashionable lion. She was an American Fanny Barney, with rather reduced copies of Burke and Johnson around her. Her personal qualities soon cemented some friendships, which lasted her life long, except where her later anti-slavery action interfered. She opened a private school in Watertown, which lasted from 1825 to 1828. She established, in 1827, the Juvenile Miscellany, that delightful pioneer among children's magazines in America; and it was continued for eight years. In October, 1828, she was married to David Lee Child, a lawyer of Boston. In those days it seemed to be
David Lee Child (search for this): chapter 3
es went forth often from that thrifty home. Mrs. Child once told me that always, on the night beforst dangerous moment of the rising storm that Mrs. Child appealed. Miss Martineau in her article, rtheless it went through three editions, and Mrs. Child, still keeping up the full circle of her labnti-slavery arena again. In 1841, Mr. and Mrs. Child were engaged by the American Anti-slavery So the most important and satisfactory time in Mrs. Child's whole life. She was placed where her sympourts forever,--wisely or unwisely,--because Mrs. Child's book had taught him to hate their contests to one impulse of pure poetry in describing Mrs. Child. It is by so many degrees the most charmingt its superiority to all others. In 1857, Mrs. Child published a volume entitled Autumnal Leaves;ion, beginning thus: Do you read your Bible, Mrs. Child? If you do, read there, Woe unto you hypocre, and must certainly enhance the dignity of Mrs. Child's reply. It is one of the best things she e[18 more...]
S. J. Hale (search for this): chapter 3
? That is the fate of almost all such attempts; compare for instance the choruses of Swinburne's Atalanta, which might have been written on the banks of the Rhine, and very likely were. But childhood never wishes to discriminate, only to combine; a period of life which likes to sugar its bread-and-butter prefers also to have its classic and romantic in one. Philothea was Mrs. Child's first attempt to return, with her anti-slavery cross still upon her, into the ranks of literature. Mrs. S. J. Hale, who, in her Woman's record, reproves her sister writer for wasting her soul's wealth in this radicalism, and doing incalculable injury to humanity, seems to take a stern satisfaction in the fact that the bitter feelings engendered by the strife have prevented the merits of this remarkable book from being appreciated as they deserve. . This was perhaps true; nevertheless it went through three editions, and Mrs. Child, still keeping up the full circle of her labors, printed nothing but a
Enoch Arden (search for this): chapter 3
young woman of twenty-two, inspired by these few examples. When one thinks how little an American author finds in the influences around him, even now, to chasten his style or keep him up to any high literary standard, it is plain how very little she could then have found. Accordingly Hobomok seems very crude in execution, very improbable in plot, and is redeemed only by a certain earnestness which carries the reader along, and by a sincere attempt after local coloring. It is an Indian Enoch Arden, with important modifications, which unfortunately all tend away from probability. Instead of the original lover who heroically yields his place, it is to him that the place is given up. The hero of this self-sacrifice is an Indian, a man of nigh and noble character, whose wife the heroine had consented to become, when almost stunned with the false tidings of her lover's death. The least artistic things in the book are these sudden nuptials, and the equally sudden resolution of Hobomok
J. G. Palfrey (search for this): chapter 3
from her brother's companionship the young girl had, as usual, a very unequal share of educational opportunities; attending only the public schools, with one year at the private seminary of Miss Swan, in Medford. Her mother died in 1814, after which the family removed for a time to the State o.f Maine. In 1819, Convers Francis was ordained over the First Parish in Watertown, and there occurred in his study, in 1824, an incident which was to determine the whole life of his sister. Dr. J. G. Palfrey had written in the North American review for April, 1821, a review of the now forgotten poem of Yamoyden, in which he ably pointed out the use that might be made of early American history for the purposes of fictitious writing. Miss Francis read this article, at her brother's house, one summer Sunday noon. Before attending the afternoon service, she wrote the first chapter of a novel. It was soon finished, and was published that year,--a thin volume of two hundred pages, without her
George Ticknor (search for this): chapter 3
soon transplanted into School readers and books of declamation, and the latter, at least, soon passed for a piece of genuine revolutionary eloquence. I remember learning it by heart, under that impression, and was really astonished, on recently reading The Rebels for the first time, to discover that the high-sounding periods which I had always attributed to Otis were really to be found in a young lady's romance. This book has a motto from Bryant, and is most respectfully inscribed to George Ticknor. The closing paragraph states with some terseness the author's modest anxieties-- Many will complain that I have dwelt too much on political. scenes, familiar to every one who reads our history; and others, on the contrary, will say that the character of the book is quite too tranquil for its title. I might mention many doubts and fears still more important; but I prefer silently to trust this humble volume to that futurity which no one can foresee and every one can read. The fe
Nightingale English (search for this): chapter 3
e distinctly disavowed. If readers complain of want of profoundness, they may perchance be willing to accept simplicity and clearness in exchange for depth. Doubtless a learned person would have performed the task far better, in many respects; but, on some accounts, my want of learning is an advantage. Thoughts do not range so freely, when the store-room of the brain is overloaded with furniture. And she gives at the end, with her usual frankness, a list of works consulted, all being in English, except seven, which are in French. It was a bold thing to base a history of religious ideas on such books as Enfield's Philosophy and Taylor's Plato. The trouble was not so much that the learning was second-hand,--for such is most learning,--as that the authorities were second-rate. The stream could hardly go higher than its source; and a book based on such very inadequate researches could hardly be accepted, even when tried by that very accommodating standard, American scholarship.
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