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America (Netherlands) (search for this): chapter 18
o seems to associate with intellectual men on terms of equality. This same remark might have been made by a traveler in America, forty years ago, of Margaret Fuller. And it must be remembered that, whereas the men who were her companions had almosllegation — that they were German. It is now difficult to recall the peculiar suspicion that was attached to any one in America, forty years ago, who manifested much interest in German thought. Immanuel Kant is now claimed as a corner-stone of relckintosh, which still seems to me, as it has seemed for many years, one of the very best critical essays yet written in America. Sir James was a peculiarly good subject to test her powers, because his temperament was wholly alien from hers. He st the condensed essence of criticism. She seems to me to have been, in the second place, the best literary critic whom America has yet seen. Her friend Ripley, who succeeded her in the Tribune and held such sway for many years, was not, in the f
Providence, R. I. (Rhode Island, United States) (search for this): chapter 18
-tempered feminine nature, yearning to be, to do, and to suffer, all at the same time, was supposed to model herself after the marble statue, Goethe. The charge was self-contradicting; and is worth naming only as being a part of that misconception which she, like all other would-be reformers, had to endure. In the most important period of her early life she wrote, As to Goethe . . . I do not go to him as a guide or friend, but as a great thinker who makes me think. Ms. letter: Providence, R. I., July 3, 1837. At this very time she was planning to write Goethe's biography and preparing to translate Eckermann's conversations with him. In her correspondence, here and there, she doubtless speaks of him as the master, but the light use of a trivial phrase is not to be set against her distinct disclaimer, as just quoted. She was indeed too omnivorous a reader, too ardent and fertile a thinker, to go through the successive bondages by which many fine minds — especially the minds of
Menzel (search for this): chapter 18
path which has conducted her to a disbelief in all revelation and the immortality of the soul — too melancholy a subject for me to dwell on here. Recollections of Seventy years, p. 262. If this feeling existed about Kant it was still stronger about Goethe. Even the genial Longfellow spoke of that monstrous book, the Elective Affinities, although this story was written with a moral purpose, and would be far more leniently judged at the present day. Longfellow's friend Felton translated Menzel's German Litature, in which Goethe appears as a pretender and quite a secondary person. Yet Margaret Fuller, who has been lately censured by Professor Harris as not admiring the great German poet enough, was held up to censure in her day for admiring him too much. This ardent, slowly-tamed, and gradually-tempered feminine nature, yearning to be, to do, and to suffer, all at the same time, was supposed to model herself after the marble statue, Goethe. The charge was self-contradicting; and
Immanuel Kant (search for this): chapter 18
It is now difficult to recall the peculiar suspicion that was attached to any one in America, forty years ago, who manifested much interest in German thought. Immanuel Kant is now claimed as a corner-stone of religion by evangelical divines, but he was then thought to be more dangerous than any French novelist; and good Mrs. FarrMartineau's latter years partly to her early studies of this philosopher. I have since thought, Mrs. Farrar writes, that her admiration of the philosophy of Kant may have been one of her first steps on that path which has conducted her to a disbelief in all revelation and the immortality of the soul — too melancholy a subject for me to dwell on here. Recollections of Seventy years, p. 262. If this feeling existed about Kant it was still stronger about Goethe. Even the genial Longfellow spoke of that monstrous book, the Elective Affinities, although this story was written with a moral purpose, and would be far more leniently judged at the pres
William Shakespeare (search for this): chapter 18
poor, and has pointed out that these two give us a glimpse of a profounder personal emotion and a deeper possibility of sadness in Wordsworth than all else that he has written put together. There are also admirable remarks on Coleridge and on Shakespeare; and how fine in thought, how simply and admirably stated, is this conclusion:-- Were I, despite the bright points so numerous in their history and the admonitions of my own conscience, inclined to despise my fellow-men, I should have foutempted to think that there is no public for anything that is good; that a work of genius can appeal only to the fewest minds in any one age, and that the reputation now awarded to those of former times is never felt, but only traditional. Of Shakespeare, so vaunted a name, little wise or worthy has been written, perhaps nothing so adequate as Coleridge's comparison of him to the pine-apple; yet on reading Hamlet, his greatest work, we find there is not a pregnant sentence, scarce a word that
Moore (search for this): chapter 18
among American prose-writers, they may turn to that essay. There were two points in which no one exceeded her at the time and place in which she lived. First, she excelled in lyric glimpses, or the power of putting a high thought into a sentence. If few of her sentences have passed into the common repertory of quotation, that is not a final test. The greatest poet is not necessarily the most quoted or quotable poet. Pope fills twenty-four pages in Bartlett's Dictionary of Quotations, Moore eight, Burns but six, Keats but two, and the Brownings taken together less than half a page. The test of an author is not to be found merely in the number of his phrases that pass current in the corners of newspapers — else would Josh Billings be at the head of literature ;but in the number of passages that have really taken root in younger minds. Tried by this standard, Margaret Fuller ranks high, and, if I were to judge strictly by my own personal experience, I should say very high inde
David Scott (search for this): chapter 18
osterity will not remember him. Papers on literature and Art, p. 308. This last is very nearly what Coleridge said of Scott. He said, Not twenty lines of Scott's poetry will ever reach posterity; it has relation to nothing. Alsop's Letters, coScott's poetry will ever reach posterity; it has relation to nothing. Alsop's Letters, conversations, etc. Of Coleridge, Am. ed. p. 116. Coleridge erred as to Scott, and Margaret Fuller as to Lowell; but we must remember that Scott's poetry was all published when Coleridge's criticism was made; while Margaret Fuller wrote when Lowell hScott, and Margaret Fuller as to Lowell; but we must remember that Scott's poetry was all published when Coleridge's criticism was made; while Margaret Fuller wrote when Lowell had printed only his Class poem and two early volumes; the Biglow papers and Sir Launfal, and all the works by which he is now best known being still unwritten. It was simply a mistaken literary estimate, not flavored with the slightest personal stiScott's poetry was all published when Coleridge's criticism was made; while Margaret Fuller wrote when Lowell had printed only his Class poem and two early volumes; the Biglow papers and Sir Launfal, and all the works by which he is now best known being still unwritten. It was simply a mistaken literary estimate, not flavored with the slightest personal sting ; and it would be hardly possible, in these milder days, for such a criticism to call out the kind of retaliation that is to be found in the Fable for critics. But that was a period, as has already been intimated, of great literary truculence;
Byron (search for this): chapter 18
ing-as where she says of Coleridge, Give Coleridge a canvas and he will paint a single mood as if his colors were made of the mind's own atoms; or of Southey, In his most brilliant passages there is nothing of inspiration; or of Shelley, The rush, the flow, the delicacy of vibration in Shelley's verse can only be paralleled by the waterfall, the rivulet, the notes of the bird and of the insect world ; or when she speaks of the balm applied by Wordsworth to the public heart after the fever of Byron; or depicts the strange bleak fidelity of Crabbe; or says of Campbell that lie did not possess as much lyric flow as force; Papers, etc. p. 71, 77, 83, 93, 98. or of literary phases and fashions generally, There is no getting rid of the epidemic of the season, however amazing and useless it may seem ; yon cannot cough down an influenza, it will cough you down; Papers, etc. p. 87. in all these statements she makes not merely a series of admirable points, but she really gives the condensed es
Biglow (search for this): chapter 18
t, p. 308. This last is very nearly what Coleridge said of Scott. He said, Not twenty lines of Scott's poetry will ever reach posterity; it has relation to nothing. Alsop's Letters, conversations, etc. Of Coleridge, Am. ed. p. 116. Coleridge erred as to Scott, and Margaret Fuller as to Lowell; but we must remember that Scott's poetry was all published when Coleridge's criticism was made; while Margaret Fuller wrote when Lowell had printed only his Class poem and two early volumes; the Biglow papers and Sir Launfal, and all the works by which he is now best known being still unwritten. It was simply a mistaken literary estimate, not flavored with the slightest personal sting ; and it would be hardly possible, in these milder days, for such a criticism to call out the kind of retaliation that is to be found in the Fable for critics. But that was a period, as has already been intimated, of great literary truculence; a time when, as Heine says of the Germans, an author, like an A
Harris (search for this): chapter 18
tions of Seventy years, p. 262. If this feeling existed about Kant it was still stronger about Goethe. Even the genial Longfellow spoke of that monstrous book, the Elective Affinities, although this story was written with a moral purpose, and would be far more leniently judged at the present day. Longfellow's friend Felton translated Menzel's German Litature, in which Goethe appears as a pretender and quite a secondary person. Yet Margaret Fuller, who has been lately censured by Professor Harris as not admiring the great German poet enough, was held up to censure in her day for admiring him too much. This ardent, slowly-tamed, and gradually-tempered feminine nature, yearning to be, to do, and to suffer, all at the same time, was supposed to model herself after the marble statue, Goethe. The charge was self-contradicting; and is worth naming only as being a part of that misconception which she, like all other would-be reformers, had to endure. In the most important period o
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