Named Entity Results
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Carlyle's laugh and other surprises

sked what prevented Horace Scudder from showing more fully this gift of higher literature and led to his acquiescing, through life, in a comparatively secondary function, I can find but one explanation, and that a most interesting one to us in New England, as illustrating the effect of im mediate surroundings. His father, so far as I can ascertain, was one of those Congregationalists of the milder type who, while strict in their opinions, are led by a sunny temperament to be genial with their households and to allow them innocent amusements. The mother was a Congregationalist, firm but not severe in her opinions; but always controlled by that indomitable New England conscience of the older time, which made her sacrifice herself to every call of charity and even to refuse, as tradition says, to have window curtains in her house, inasmuch as many around her could not even buy blankets. Add to this the fact that Boston was then a great missionary centre, that several prominent leade

olumes, with morocco binding and proper lettering. All his writings were thus handsomely treated, and the shelves devoted to his own works, pamphlet or otherwise, were to the eye a very conservatory and flower garden of literature; or like a chamberful of children to whom even a frugal parent may allow himself the luxury of pretty clothes. All his literary arrangements were neat and perfect, and represented that other extreme from the celebrated collection of De Quincey in Dove Cottage at Grasmere, where that author had five thousand books, by his own statement, in a little room ten or twelve feet square; and his old housekeeper explained it to me as perfectly practicable because he had no bookcases, but simply piled them against the walls, leaving here and there little gaps in which he put his money. In the delicate and touching dedication of Scudder's chief work, Men and letters, to his friend Henry M. Alden, the well-known New York editor, he says: In that former state of exist

ming associated with Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, he edited for them the Atlantic Monthly from 1890 to 1898, preparing for it also that invaluable Index, so important to bibliographers; he also edited the American Commonwealths series, and two detached volumes, American poems (1879) and American prose (1880). He published also the Bodley books (8 vols., Boston, 1875 to 1887); The Dwellers in five Sisters' Court (1876); Boston town (1881); Life of Noah Webster (1882); A History of the United States for schools (1884); Men and letters (1887) ; Life of George Washington (1889); Literature in School (1889); Childhood in literature and art (1894), besides various books of which he was the editor or compiler only. He was also for nearly six years (1877-82) a member of the Cambridge School Committee; for five years (1884-89) of the State Board of Education ; for nine years (1889-98) of the Harvard University visiting committee in English literature; and was at the time of his death a tr

inction he might have won if he had shown less of modesty or self-restraint, we can never know. It is true that his few thoroughly original volumes show something beyond what is described in the limited term, workmanship. But that he brought such workmanship up into the realm of art is as certain as that we may call the cabinet-maker of the Middle Ages an artist. Mr. Scudder was born in Boston on October 16, 1838, the son of Charles and Sarah Lathrop (Coit) Scudder, and died at Cambridge, Massachusetts, on January 11, 1902. He was a graduate of Williams College, and after graduation went to New York, where he spent three years as a teacher. It was there that he wrote his first stories for children, entitled Seven little people and their friends (New York, 1862). After his father's death he returned to Boston, and thenceforward devoted himself almost wholly to literary pursuits. He prepared the Life and letters of David Coit Scudder, his brother, a missionary to India (New York,

tories for children, entitled Seven little people and their friends (New York, 1862). After his father's death he returned to Boston, and thenceforward devoted himself almost wholly to literary pursuits. He prepared the Life and letters of David Coit Scudder, his brother, a missionary to India (New York, 1864); edited the Riverside magazine for young people during its four years existence (from 1867 to 1870); and published Dream children and Stories from my Attic. Becoming associated with Houghton, Mifflin, and Company, he edited for them the Atlantic Monthly from 1890 to 1898, preparing for it also that invaluable Index, so important to bibliographers; he also edited the American Commonwealths series, and two detached volumes, American poems (1879) and American prose (1880). He published also the Bodley books (8 vols., Boston, 1875 to 1887); The Dwellers in five Sisters' Court (1876); Boston town (1881); Life of Noah Webster (1882); A History of the United States for schools (1884)

heir opinions, are led by a sunny temperament to be genial with their households and to allow them innocent amusements. The mother was a Congregationalist, firm but not severe in her opinions; but always controlled by that indomitable New England conscience of the older time, which made her sacrifice herself to every call of charity and even to refuse, as tradition says, to have window curtains in her house, inasmuch as many around her could not even buy blankets. Add to this the fact that Boston was then a great missionary centre, that several prominent leaders in that cause were of the Scudder family, and the house was a sort of headquarters for them, and that Horace Scudder's own elder brother, whose memoirs he wrote, went as a missionary to India, dying at his post. Speaking of his father's family in his memoir, he says of it, In the conduct of the household, there was recognition of some more profound meaning in life than could find expression in mere enjoyment of living; while

his nicety of method and regularity of life went beyond those of any man I have known. Working chiefly at home, he assigned in advance a certain number of hours daily as due to the firm for which he labored; and he then kept carefully the record of these hours, and if he took out a half hour for his own private work, made it up. He had special work assigned by himself for a certain time before breakfast, an interval which he daily gave largely to the Greek Testament and at some periods to Homer, Thucydides, Herodotus, and Xenophon; working always with the original at hand and writing out translations or commentaries, always in the same exquisite handwriting and at first contained in small thin note-books, afterwards bound in substantial volumes, with morocco binding and proper lettering. All his writings were thus handsomely treated, and the shelves devoted to his own works, pamphlet or otherwise, were to the eye a very conservatory and flower garden of literature; or like a chamb

er surpassed the best chapters of Men and letters, but his one adequate and complete work as a whole is undoubtedly, apart from his biographies, the volume entitled Childhood in literature and art (1894). This book was based on a course of Lowell lectures given by him in Boston, and is probably that by which he himself would wish to be judged, at least up to the time of his excellent biography of Lowell. He deals in successive chapters with Greek, Roman, Hebrew, Mediaeval, English, French, German, and American literary art with great symmetry and unity throughout, culminating, of course, in Hawthorne and analyzing the portraits of children drawn in his productions. In this book one may justly say that he has added himself, in a degree, to the immediate circle of those very few American writers whom he commemorates so nobly at the close of his essay on Longfellow and his art, in Men and letters : It is too early to make a full survey of the immense importance to American letters of t

XVI. Horace Elisha Scudder. It has been generally felt, I think, that no disrespect was shown to John Fiske, when the New York Nation headed its very discriminating sketch of him with the title John Fiske, Popularizer ; and I should feel that I showed no discourtesy, but on the contrary, did honor to Horace Elisha Scudder, in describing him as Literary Workman. I know of no other man in America, perhaps, who so well deserved that honorable name; no one, that is, who, if he had a difficulJohn Fiske, Popularizer ; and I should feel that I showed no discourtesy, but on the contrary, did honor to Horace Elisha Scudder, in describing him as Literary Workman. I know of no other man in America, perhaps, who so well deserved that honorable name; no one, that is, who, if he had a difficult piece of literary work to do, could be so absolutely relied upon to do it carefully and well. Whatever it was,--compiling, editing, arranging, translating, indexing,--his work was uniformly well done. Whether this is the highest form of literary distinction is not now the question. What other distinction he might have won if he had shown less of modesty or self-restraint, we can never know. It is true that his few thoroughly original volumes show something beyond what is described in the l

ty of method and regularity of life went beyond those of any man I have known. Working chiefly at home, he assigned in advance a certain number of hours daily as due to the firm for which he labored; and he then kept carefully the record of these hours, and if he took out a half hour for his own private work, made it up. He had special work assigned by himself for a certain time before breakfast, an interval which he daily gave largely to the Greek Testament and at some periods to Homer, Thucydides, Herodotus, and Xenophon; working always with the original at hand and writing out translations or commentaries, always in the same exquisite handwriting and at first contained in small thin note-books, afterwards bound in substantial volumes, with morocco binding and proper lettering. All his writings were thus handsomely treated, and the shelves devoted to his own works, pamphlet or otherwise, were to the eye a very conservatory and flower garden of literature; or like a chamberful of c