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Litchfield, Conn. (Connecticut, United States) (search for this): chapter 6
yond the cringing period in our literary judgment. The obeisance of all good society in London before a successful circus-manager from America was only a shade more humiliating than the reverential attention visible in the American press when Matthew Arnold was kind enough to stand on tiptoe upon our lecture-platform and apply his little measuring-tape to the great shade of Emerson. I should like to see in our literature some of the honest self-assertion shown by Senator Tracy of Litchfield, Connecticut, during Washington's administration, in his reply to the British Minister's praises of Mrs. Oliver Wolcott's beauty. Your countrywoman, said the Englishman, would be admired at the Court of St. James. —Sir, said Tracy, she is admired even on Litchfield Hill. In that recent book of aphorisms which has given a fresh impulse to the fading fame of Dr. Channing, he points out that the hope of the world lies in the fact that parents can not make of their children what they will. It i
United States (United States) (search for this): chapter 6
V A cosmopolitan standard It has lately become the fashion in the United States to talk of the cosmopolitan standard as the one thing needful; to say that formerly American authors were judged by their own local tribunals, but henceforth they must be appraised by the world's estimate. The trouble is, that for most of those who reason in this way, cosmopolitanism does not really mean the world's estimate, but only the judgment of Europe—a judgment in which America itself is to have no vo American sometimes hears admissions in Europe which make him feel that we are already creating a standard, not waiting to be judged by one. The most variously accomplished literary critic in England, the late Mark Pattison, said to me of certain American books then lately published, Is such careful writing appreciated in the United States? It would not be in England. On the shores of a new continent, then, there was already a standard which was in one respect better than the cosmopolitan
Michigan (Michigan, United States) (search for this): chapter 6
They seek merely a far-off judgment, and this is no better than a local tribunal; in some respects it is worse. The remotest standard of judgment that I ever encountered was that of the late Professor Ko-Kun-Hua, of Harvard University. There was something delicious in looking into his serene and inscrutable face, and in trying to guess at the operations of a highly trained mind, to which the laurels of Plato and Shakespeare were as absolutely unimportant as those of the Sweet Singer of Michigan; yet the tribunal which he afforded could hardly be called cosmopolitan. He undoubtedly stood, however, for the oldest civilization; and it seemed trivial to turn from his serene Chinese indifference, and attend to children of a day like the Revue des deux Mondes and the Saturday Review. If we are to recognize a remote tribunal, let us by all means prefer one that has some maturity about it. But it is worth while to remember that, as a matter of fact, the men who created the American g
China (China) (search for this): chapter 6
late Professor Ko-Kun-Hua, of Harvard University. There was something delicious in looking into his serene and inscrutable face, and in trying to guess at the operations of a highly trained mind, to which the laurels of Plato and Shakespeare were as absolutely unimportant as those of the Sweet Singer of Michigan; yet the tribunal which he afforded could hardly be called cosmopolitan. He undoubtedly stood, however, for the oldest civilization; and it seemed trivial to turn from his serene Chinese indifference, and attend to children of a day like the Revue des deux Mondes and the Saturday Review. If we are to recognize a remote tribunal, let us by all means prefer one that has some maturity about it. But it is worth while to remember that, as a matter of fact, the men who created the American government gave themselves very little concern about cosmopolitanism, but simply went about their own work. They took hints from older nations, and especially from the mother country, but
Litchfield Hill (Vermont, United States) (search for this): chapter 6
kind enough to stand on tiptoe upon our lecture-platform and apply his little measuring-tape to the great shade of Emerson. I should like to see in our literature some of the honest self-assertion shown by Senator Tracy of Litchfield, Connecticut, during Washington's administration, in his reply to the British Minister's praises of Mrs. Oliver Wolcott's beauty. Your countrywoman, said the Englishman, would be admired at the Court of St. James. —Sir, said Tracy, she is admired even on Litchfield Hill. In that recent book of aphorisms which has given a fresh impulse to the fading fame of Dr. Channing, he points out that the hope of the world lies in the fact that parents can not make of their children what they will. It is equally true of parent nations. How easily we accept the little illusions offered us by our elders in the world's literature, almost forgetting that two and two make four, in the innocent delight with which they inspire us! In re-reading Scott's Old Mortalit
P. H. Sheridan (search for this): chapter 6
in the innocent delight with which they inspire us! In re-reading Scott's Old Mortality the other day, I was pleased to find myself still carried away by the author's own grandiloquence, where he describes the approach of Claverhouse and his men to the castle of Tillietudlem. The train was long and imposing, for there were about two hundred and fifty horse upon the march. Two hundred and fifty! Yet I read it for the moment with as little demur at these trivial statistics as if our own Sheridan had never ridden out of Winchester at the head of ten thousand cavalry. It is the same with all literature: we are asked to take Europe at Europe's own valuation, and then to take America at Europe's valuation also; and whenever we speak of putting an American valuation upon the four quarters of the globe, we are told that this will not do; this is not cosmopolitan. We are too easily misled, in exhorting American authors to a proper humility, because we forget that the invention of prin
Matthew Arnold (search for this): chapter 6
of strength. There is no danger that the foreign judgment will not duly assert itself; the danger is, that our own self-estimate will be too apologetic. What with courtesy and good-nature, and a lingering of the old colonialism, we are not yet beyond the cringing period in our literary judgment. The obeisance of all good society in London before a successful circus-manager from America was only a shade more humiliating than the reverential attention visible in the American press when Matthew Arnold was kind enough to stand on tiptoe upon our lecture-platform and apply his little measuring-tape to the great shade of Emerson. I should like to see in our literature some of the honest self-assertion shown by Senator Tracy of Litchfield, Connecticut, during Washington's administration, in his reply to the British Minister's praises of Mrs. Oliver Wolcott's beauty. Your countrywoman, said the Englishman, would be admired at the Court of St. James. —Sir, said Tracy, she is admired even
Theodore Parker (search for this): chapter 6
unal is at best but a court of appeal, and is commonly valuable in proportion as the courts of preliminary jurisdiction have done their duty. The best preparation for going abroad is to know the worth of what one has seen at home. I remember to have been impressed with a little sense of dismay, on first nearing the shores of Europe, at the thought of what London and Paris might show me in the way of great human personalities; but I said to myself, To one who has heard Emerson lecture, and Parker preach, and Garrison thunder, and Phillips persuade, there is no reason why Darwin or Victor Hugo should pass for more than mortal; and accordingly they did not. We shall not prepare ourselves for a cosmopolitan standard by ignoring our own great names or undervaluing the literary tradition that has produced them. When Stuart Newton, the artist, was asked, on first arriving in London from America, whether he did not enjoy the change, he answered honestly, I here see such society occasionall
Mark Pattison (search for this): chapter 6
no reason why Darwin or Victor Hugo should pass for more than mortal; and accordingly they did not. We shall not prepare ourselves for a cosmopolitan standard by ignoring our own great names or undervaluing the literary tradition that has produced them. When Stuart Newton, the artist, was asked, on first arriving in London from America, whether he did not enjoy the change, he answered honestly, I here see such society occasionally, as I saw at home all the time. At this day the self-respecting American sometimes hears admissions in Europe which make him feel that we are already creating a standard, not waiting to be judged by one. The most variously accomplished literary critic in England, the late Mark Pattison, said to me of certain American books then lately published, Is such careful writing appreciated in the United States? It would not be in England. On the shores of a new continent, then, there was already a standard which was in one respect better than the cosmopolitan.
Uriah Tracy (search for this): chapter 6
rican press when Matthew Arnold was kind enough to stand on tiptoe upon our lecture-platform and apply his little measuring-tape to the great shade of Emerson. I should like to see in our literature some of the honest self-assertion shown by Senator Tracy of Litchfield, Connecticut, during Washington's administration, in his reply to the British Minister's praises of Mrs. Oliver Wolcott's beauty. Your countrywoman, said the Englishman, would be admired at the Court of St. James. —Sir, said TrTracy, she is admired even on Litchfield Hill. In that recent book of aphorisms which has given a fresh impulse to the fading fame of Dr. Channing, he points out that the hope of the world lies in the fact that parents can not make of their children what they will. It is equally true of parent nations. How easily we accept the little illusions offered us by our elders in the world's literature, almost forgetting that two and two make four, in the innocent delight with which they inspire us!
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