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Laura E. Richards, Maud Howe, Florence Howe Hall, Julia Ward Howe, 1819-1910, in two volumes, with portraits and other illustrations: volume 1, Index (search)
Schliemann, Mrs., II, 5, 7, 44. Schubert, Franz, II, 20, 71, 157. Schurz, Miss, II, 65. Schwalbach, II, 172, 173. Scotland, I, 88, 91, 92; II, 71, 166. Scott, Virginia, II, 249. Scott, Walter, I, 13, 91. Scott, Winfield, II, 249. Sears, Mrs. M., II, 210. Seattle, II, 133. Seeley, J. R., I, 313, 314; II, 6. Sembrich, Marcella, II, 269. Severance, Caroline M., I, 291; II, 9. Seward, W. H., I, 192, 246. Sforza Cesarini, Duchess, II, 175, 176. Shakespeare, William, II, 262, 330. Sharp, William, II, 169. Shedlock, Miss, II, 289. Shelby, I, 377. Shelley, P. B., I, 68; II, 237. Shenandoah, I, 274. Shenstone, William, I, 13. Sherborn Prison, II, 159. Sheridan, Philip, I, 274. Sherman, John, I, 239. Sherman, W. T., I, 274; II, 380. Sherwood, Mrs., John, II, 73. Siberia, II, 187. Sicily, II, 408. Sienkiewicz, Henryk, II, 304. Silsbee, Mrs., I, 264. Singleton, Violet Fane, II, 5. Siouz, I, 380. Sir
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, The New world and the New book (search)
ngland, and seek what is our own. Emerson set free our poetry, our prose; Howell is setting free our fiction; he himself is as yet only half out of the chrysalis, but the wings are there. It must always be remembered that in literature, alone of all arts, place is of secondary importance, for its masterpieces can be carried round the world in one's pockets. We need to go to Europe to see the great galleries, to hear the music of Wagner, but the boy who reads Aeschylus and Horace and Shakespeare by his pine-knot fire has at his command the essence of all universities, so far as literary training goes. But were this otherwise, we must remember that libraries, galleries, and buildings are all secondary to that great human life of which they are only the secretions or appendages. My Madonnas—thus wrote to me that recluse woman of genius, Emily Dickinson —are the women who pass my house to their work, bearing Saviours in their arms. Words wait on thoughts, thoughts on life; and af
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, V (search)
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 of fulfilment in our older American States —and every bright boy or girl has a literary Louvre and Vatican at command. Given a taste for literature and there are at hand all the masters of the art—Plato and Homer, Cicero and Horace, Dante, Shakespeare, and Goethe. Travel is still needed, but not for books—only for other forms of art, for variety of acquaintanceship, and for the habit of dealing with men and women of many nationalities. The most fastidious American in Europe should not loo<
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, VI (search)
these disturbing influences are only redistributed, not abolished, by distance. Whether we look to popular preference or to the judgment of high authorities, the result is equally baffling. Napoleon Bonaparte preferred Ossian, it is said, to Shakespeare; and Voltaire placed the latter among the minor poets, viewing him at best as we now view Marlowe, as the author of an occasional mighty line. It was after Mrs. Elizabeth Montagu had been asked to hear Voltaire demolish Shakespeare at an evenShakespeare at an evening party in Paris that she made her celebrated answer, when the host expressed the hope that she had not been pained by the criticism: Why should I be pained? I have not the honor to be among the intimate friends of M. de Voltaire. Even at this day the French journalists are quite bewildered by the Pall Mall Gazette's lists of English immortals; and ask who Tennyson is, and what plays Ruskin has written. Those who happened, like myself, to be in Paris during the Exposition of 1878 remember
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, XV (search)
tude is outgrown, and people are left to enjoy what they like. I can remember when the disposition of Bostonians to take pleasure in Beethoven's symphonies was almost as much of a joke to Boston editors as is the humming of culture in Chicago to-day; but there is fortunately a limit to human endurance in regard to certain particular witticisms, though some of them certainly die hard. The same necessity for a joke invades other quiet enjoyments and harmless occupations, as the study of Shakespeare or Browning. It has happened to me to look in at several different Browning clubs, first and last; but the club of the newspaper humorist I never have happened to encounter—that club which is as vague and misty and wordy as that other creation of the American imagination, the Limekiln Club of colored philosophers. On the contrary, such Browning clubs as I have happened to look in upon have had the sobriety and reasonableness which are essential to the study of a poet who, although ofte
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, XVI (search)
her hand, when we put real events into the form of fiction, they seem over-wrought and improbable. Much of this applies, of course, to character as well as to plot. The seeming contradictions in the character of Hamlet, over which the critics have wrangled for a century or two, are not really so great or improbable as those to be found in many youths who pass for commonplace; and that man's experience is limited who has not encountered, in his time, women of more infinite variety than Shakespeare's Cleopatra. Character in real life is a far more absorbing study than character in fiction; and when it comes to plot, fiction is nowhere in comparison. Toss a skein of thread into the sea, and within twenty-four hours the waves and the floating seaweed will have tangled it into a knot more perplexing than the utmost effort of your hands can weave; and so the complex plots of life are wound by the currents of life itself, not by the romancers. If life thus provides them, they are a pa
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, XXII (search)
The Barton Shakespearean collection in the Boston Public Library includes about a thousand titles under the works of Shakespeare, and fifteen hundred more under Shakespeareana. It is certain that all these special collections are very incomplete, nach ihnen strebt, und so gross das niemand sie erreicht). Mozart, he said, represents the unattainable in music, and Shakespeare in poetry. He instanced also Raphael and Napoleon; and the loyal Eckermann inwardly added the speaker himself to the , to reflect its best impulses. Dante, of all great writers, is the least explainable in this way; but in the case of Shakespeare, of Voltaire, of Goethe, it is obvious enough. The last named was always ready to admit his own obligations, not merere, and there are always a dozen who wish to unlock the mystery of Hamlet for one who demands positive evidence as to Shakespeare's wedded bliss. But, however we explain it, there is such a tendency of study and criticism toward concentration on s
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book, Index (search)
, 188. Rainsford, W. S., 79. Richter, J. P. F., 182. Rollo Books, the, 180. Roscoe, William, 216. Russell, W. Clark, 202. Ruskin, John, 53, 97, 114, 187 197, 206. Rousseau, J. J., 179. S. Sala, G. A., 203. Sand, George, 56. Scherer, Edmond, 5. Schiller, J. C. F. von, 90, 179, 189. Scott. Sir Walter, 10, 15, 46, 94. Scudder, S. H., 73. Self-depreciation, the trick of, 206. Sentimental, decline of the, 178. Seward, Anna, 218. Shadow of Europe, the, 27. Shakespeare, William, 16, 21, 48, 52, 186, 188, 189, 191. Shelley, P. B., 190. Sheridan, P. H., 47, 123. Sidney, Sir, Philip, 83. Slavery, Emerson's poem on, 8. Sly, Christopher, 213. Smith, Goldwin, 3. Southey, Robert, 217. Spencer, Herbert, 216. Spenser, Edmund, 18, 83, 94. Spofford, Harriet P., 102. Stackpole, J. L., 222. Stedman, E. C., 62, 67, 100. Sterling, John, 56, 94. Stevenson, R. L., 65. St. Nicholas magazine, riddles in, 23. Stockton, F. R., 219. Stoddard, R. H., 67. Stow
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Chapter 1: Longfellow as a classic (search)
laurels; he had wealth and ease, children and grandchildren, health and a stainless conscience; he had also, in a peculiar degree, the blessings that belong to Shakespeare's estimate of old age, —honor, love, obedience, troops of friends. Except for two great domestic bereavements, his life would have been one of absolutely unbrothey rose from the table, Do you suppose there is any other poet of any country, living or dead, from whom so many of us could have quoted? Not one. Not even Shakespeare, or Victor Hugo, or Homer. N. Y. Independent, October 22, 1896. One has merely to glance at any detailed catalogue of the translations from Longfellow's woage illustration, generally by Scottish artists. Of these selections, six are taken from Longfellow, five each from Wordsworth and Thomson, and three each from Shakespeare, Burns, and Moore. Of other American poets Bryant and Willis alone appear, each with one contribution. Another such book is Words from the Poets; selected for
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Chapter 3: first Flights in authorship (search)
he mere pleasures and luxuries of life: and hence there has sprung up within us a quicksightedness to the failings of literary men, and an aversion to everything that is not practical, operative, and thoroughgoing. But if we would ever have a national literature, our native writers must be patronized. Whatever there may be in letters, over which time shall have no power, must be born of great endeavors, and those endeavors are the offspring of liberal patronage. Putting off, then, what Shakespeare calls the visage of the times, —we must become hearty well-wishers to our native authors: —and with them there must be a deep and thorough conviction of the glory of their calling,—an utter abandonment of everything else,—and a noble self-devotion to the cause of literature. We have indeed much to hope from these things;—for our hearts are already growing warm towards literary adventurers, and a generous spirit has gone abroad in our land, which shall liberalize and enlighten. In
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