CONTENTS：
BibliographicalMyFirstVisittoNewEnglandFirstImpressionsofLiteraryNewYorkBIBLIOGRAPHICAL
LongbeforeIbeganthepaperswhichmakeupthisvolume，IhadmeanttowriteofliteraryhistoryinNewEnglandasIhadknownitinthelivesofitsgreatexemplarsduringthetwenty—fiveyearsIlivednearthem。
Infact，IhadmeanttodothisfromthetimeIcameamongthem；butI
letthedaysinwhichIalmostconstantlysawthemgobywithoutrecordsavesuchasIcarriedinamemoryretentive，indeed，beyondthecommon，butnotsofullasIcouldhavewishedwhenIbegantoinvokeitformywork。Still，uponinsistentappeal，itrespondedinsufficientabundance；and，thoughInowwishIcouldhaverememberedmoreinstances，Ithinkmyimpressionswereaccurateenough。IamsureofhavingtriedhonestlytoimparttheminthetenyearsormorewhenIwasdesultorilyendeavoringtosharethemwiththereader。
Thepaperswerewrittenprettymuchintheordertheyhavehere，beginningwithMyFirstVisittoNewEngland，whichdatesfromtheearliesteighteen—nineties，ifImaytrustmyrecollectionofreadingitfromthemanuscripttotheeditorofHarper’sMagazine，wherewelayunderthewillowsofMagnoliaonepleasantsummermorninginthefirstyearsofthatdecade。Itwasprintednogreatwhileafterinthatperiodical；butIwassolonginfinishingthestudyofLowellthatithadbeenanticipatedinHarper’sbyotherreminiscencesofhim，anditwasthereforefirstprintedinScribner’sMagazine。ItwasthepaperwithwhichItookthemostpains，andwhenitwascompletedIstillfeltitsoincompletethatIreferredittohisclosestandmybestfriend，thelateCharlesEliotNorton，forhiscriticism。Hethoughtitwantinginunity；itwasagroupofstudiesinsteadofonestudy，hesaid；Imustdosomethingtodrawthedifferentsketchestogetherinasingleeffectofportraiture；andthisIdidmybesttodo。
Itwasthelatestwrittenofthethreearticleswhichgivethevolumesubstance，anditrepresentsmarefinallyandfullythantheothersmysenseoftheliteraryimportanceofthemenwhoselikeweshallnotlookuponagain。Longfellowwaseasilythegreatestpoetofthethree，Holmesoftenthemostbrilliantandfelicitous，butLowell，inspiteofhisforaysinpolitics，wasthefinestscholarandthemostprofoundlyliterary，ashewasabovetheothersmostdeeplyandthoroughlyNewEnglandinquality。
WhileIwasdoingthesesketches，sometimesslighterandsometimeslessslight，ofallthosepoetsandessayistsandnovelistsIhadknowninCambridgeandBostonandConcordandNewYork，Iwasdoingmanyotherthings：halfadozennovels，asmanymorenovelettesandshorterstories，withessaysandcriticismsandverses；sothatinJanuary，1900，IhadnotyetdonethepaperonLowell，which，withanother，wastocompletemyreminiscencesofAmericanliterarylifeasIhadwitnessedit。Whentheywerealldoneatlasttheywererepublishedinavolumewhichfoundinstantfavorbeyondmydesertsifnotitsown。
Therewasagooddealoftroublewiththename，butLiteraryFriendsandAcquaintancewasanendeavorformodestaccuracywithwhichIremainedsatisfieduntilIthought，longtoolate，ofLiteraryFriendsandNeighbors。ThenIperceivedthatthiswouldhavebeenstillmoreaccurateandquiteasmodest，andIgladlygiveanyreaderleavetocallthebookbythatnamewholikes。
Sincethecollectionwasfirstmade，Ihavewrittenlittleelsequiteofthekind，exceptthepaperonBretHarte，whichwasfirstprintedshortlyafterhisdeath；andthestudyofMarkTwain，whichIhadbeenpreparingtomakeforfortyyearsandmore，andwroteintwoweeksofthespringof1910。Othersofmytimeandplacehavenowpassedwhitherthereisneithertimenorplace，andtherearemomentswhenIfeelthatImusttrytocallthembackandpaythemsuchhonorasmysenseoftheirworthmaygive；buttheimpulsehasasyetfailedtoeffectitself，andIdonotknowhowlongIshallsparemyselfthesupremepleasure—pain，the"hochstangenehmerSchmerz，"ofseekingtoliveherewiththosewholiveherenomore。
W。D。H。
LITERARYFRIENDSANDACQUAINTANCE——MyFirstVisittoNewEnglandMYFIRSTVISITTONEWENGLAND
IftherewasanyoneintheworldwhohadhisbeingmorewhollyinliteraturethanIhadin1860，IamsureIshouldnothaveknownwheretofindhim，andIdoubtifhecouldhavebeenfoundnearerthecentresofliteraryactivitythanIthenwas，oramongthosemorepurelydevotedtoliteraturethanmyself。Ihadbeenforthreeyearsawriterofnewsparagraphs，booknotices，andpoliticalleadersonadailypaperinaninlandcity，andIdonotknowthatmylifedifferedoutwardlyfromthatofanyotheryoungjournalist，whohadbegunasIhadinacountryprinting—office，andmightbesupposedtobelookingforwardtoadvancementinhisprofessionorinpublicaffairs。Butinwardlyitwasaltogetherdifferentwithme。InwardlyIwasapoet，withnowishtobeanythingelse，unlessinamomentofcarelessaffluenceImightsofarforgetmyselfastobeanovelist。Iwas，withmyfriendJ。J。Piatt，thehalf—authorofalittlevolumeofveryunknownverse，andMr。LowellhadlatelyacceptedandhadbeguntoprintintheAtlanticMonthlyfiveorsixpoemsofmine。BesidesthisIhadwrittenpoems，andsketches，andcriticismsfortheSaturdayPressofNewYork，along—forgottenbutonceverylivelyexpressionofliteraryintentioninanextinctbohemiaofthatcity；andIwasalwayswritingpoems，andsketches，andcriticismsinourownpaper。These，aswellasmyfeatsintherenownedperiodicalsoftheEast，metwithkindness，ifnothonor，inmyowncitywhichoughttohavegivenmegravedoubtswhetherIwasanyrealprophet。
Butitonlyintensifiedmyliteraryambition，alreadysostrongthatmyveinsmightwellhaveruninkratherthanblood，andgavemeahigheropinionofmyfellow—citizens，ifsuchathingcouldbe。Theywereindeedverycharmingpeople，andsuchofthemasImostlysawwerereadersandloversofbooks。SocietyinColumbusatthatdayhadapleasantrefinementwhichIthinkIdonotexaggerateinthefondretrospect。Ithadthefinalitywhichitseemstohavehadnowheresincethewar；ithadcertainfixedideals，whichwerenonethelessgracefulandbecomingbecausetheywerethesimpleoldAmericanideals，nowvanished，orfastvanishing，beforetheknowledgeofgoodandevilastheyhaveitinEurope，andasithasimparteditselftoAmericantravelandsojourn。TherewasamixtureofmanystrainsinthecapitalofOhio，astherewasthroughouttheState。Virginia，Kentucky，Pennsylvania，NewYork，andNewEnglandalljoinedtocharacterizethemannersandcustoms。
IsupposeitwastheSouthwhichgavethesocialtone；theintellectualtasteamongtheelderswastheSoutherntastefortheclassicandthestandardinliterature；butwewhowereyoungerpreferredthemodernauthors：wereadThackeray，andGeorgeEliot，andHawthorne，andCharlesReade，andDeQuincey，andTennyson，andBrowning，andEmerson，andLongfellow，andI——IreadHeine，andevermoreHeine，whentherewasnotsomenewthingfromtheothers。NowandthenanimmediateFrenchbookpenetratedtous：wereadMicheletandAbout，Iremember。WelookedtoEnglandandtheEastlargelyforourliteraryopinions；weacceptedtheSaturdayReviewaslawifwecouldnotquitereceiveitasgospel。OneofustooktheCornhillMagazine，becauseThackeraywastheeditor；theAtlanticMonthlycountedmanyreadersamongus；andavisitingyoungladyfromNewEngland，whoscreamedatsightoftheperiodicalinoneofourhouses，"Why，haveyougottheAtlanticMonthlyouthere？"couldbeanswered，withcoldsuperiority，"ThereareseveralcontributorstotheAtlanticinColumbus。"Therewereinfacttwo：myroom—mate，whowroteBrowningforit，whileIwroteHeineandLongfellow。ButIsupposetwoareasrightfullyseveralastwentyare。
II。
Thatwastheheydayoflecturing，andnowandthenaliterarylightfromtheEastswamintoourskies。IheardandsawEmerson，andIoncemetBayardTaylorsocially，atthehospitablehousewherehewasaguestafterhislecture。HeavenknowshowIgotthroughtheevening。IdonotthinkIopenedmymouthtoaddresshimaword；itwasasmuchasIcoulddotositandlookathim，whilehetranquillysmoked，andchattedwithourhost，andquaffedthebeerwhichwehadverygoodintheNest。AllthewhileIdidhimhomageasthefirstauthorbycallingwhomIhadmet。
IlongedtotellhimhowmuchIlikedhispoems，whichweusedtogetbyheartinthosedays，andIlonged（howmuchmoreIlonged!）tohavehimknowthat：
"AuchichwarinArkadiengeboren，"
thatIhadprintedpoemsintheAtlanticMonthlyandtheSaturdayPress，andwasthepotentialauthorofthingsdestinedtoeclipseallliteraturehithertoattempted。ButIcouldnottellhim；andtherewasnooneelsewhothoughttotellhim。Perhapsitwasaswellso；Imighthaveperishedofhisrecognition，formymodestywasequaltomymerit。
InfactIthinkwewereallrathermodestyoungfellows，wewhoformedthegroupwonttospendsomepartofeveryeveningatthathouse，wheretherewasalwaysmusic，orwhist，orgaytalk，orallthree。Wehadouropinionsofliterarymatters，but（perhapsbecausewehadmostlyacceptedthemfromEnglandorNewEngland，asIhavesaid）wewerenotvainofthem；andwewouldbynomeanshaveurgedthembeforealivingliterarymanlikethat。Ibelievenoneofusventuredtospeak，exceptthepoet，myroommate，whosaid，Hebelievedsoandsowastheoriginalofsoandso；andwaspromptlytold，Hehadnorighttosaysuchathing。
Naturally，wecameawayrathercriticalofourhost’sguest，whomI
afterwardsknewasthekindliestheartintheworld。Butwehadnotshoneinhispresence，andthatgalledus；andwechosetothinkthathehadnotshoneinours。
III
Atthattimehewasfillingalargespaceinthethoughtsoftheyoungpeoplewhohadanythoughtsaboutliterature。Hehadcometohisfullreputeasanagreeableandintelligenttraveller，andhestillworethehaloofhisearlyadventuresafootinforeignlandswhentheywereyetreallyforeign。HehadnotwrittenhisnovelsofAmericanlife，oncesowelcomed，andnowsoforgotten；itwasverylongbeforehehadachievedthatincomparabletranslationofFaustwhichmustalwaysremainthefinestandbest，andwhichwouldkeephisnamealivewithGoethe’s，ifhehaddonenothingelseworthyofremembrance。Butwhatthenmostcommendedhimtotheregardofusstar—eyedyouth（nowblinkingsadlytowardourseventies）wasthepoetrywhichheprintedinthemagazinesfromtimetotime：inthefirstPutnam’s（wheretherewasadashingpictureofhiminanArabburnooseand，aturban），andinHarper’s，andintheAtlantic。Itwasoftenverylovelypoetry，Ithought，andIstillthinkso；anditwasrightfullyhis，thoughitpaidtheinevitableallegiancetothemannerofthegreatmastersoftheday。Itwasgracedforusbythepatheticromanceofhisearlylove，whichsomeofitssweetestandsaddestnumbersconfessed，fortheyounggirlhemarriedalmostinherdeathhour；andwewhowerehopingtohaveourheartsbroken，oralreadyhadthemso，wouldhavebeengladofsomethingmoreoftheobviouspoetinthepopularlecturerwehadseenrefreshinghimselfafterhishourontheplatform。
HeremainedfornearlyayeartheonlyauthorIhadseen，andImethimonceagainbeforeIsawanyother。OursecondmeetingwasfarfromColumbus，asfarasremoteQuebec，whenIwasonmywaytoNewEnglandbywayofNiagaraandtheCanadianriversandcities。IstoppedinToronto，andrealizedmyselfabroadwithoutanysignaladventures；butatMontrealsomethingveryprettyhappenedtome。Icameintothehoteloffice，theeveningofafirstday’slonelysight—seeing，andvainlyexploredtheregisterforthenameofsomeacquaintance；asIturnedfromittwosmartlydressedyoungfellowsembracedit，andIheardoneofthemsay，tomygreatamazeandhappiness，"Hello，here’sHowells!"
"Oh，"Ibrokeoutuponhim，"IwasjustlookingforsomeoneIknew。I
hopeyouaresomeonewhoknowsme!"
"OnlythroughyourcontributionstotheSaturdayPress，"saidtheyoungfellow，andwiththesegoldenwords，thepreciousfirstpersonalrecognitionofmyauthorshipIhadeverreceivedfromastranger，andtherichrewardofallmyliteraryendeavor，heintroducedhimselfandhisfriend。Idonotknowwhatbecameofthisfriend，orwhereorhowheeliminatedhimself；butwetwootherswereinseparablefromthatmoment。
HewasayounglawyerfromNewYork，andwhenIcamebackfromItaly，fourorfiveyearslater，IusedtoseehissigninWallStreet，withanever—fulfilledintentionofgoingintoseehim。Inwhateverworldhehappensnowtobe，Ishouldliketosendhimmygreetings，andconfesstohimthatmyarthasneversincebroughtmesosweetarecompense，andnothingathousandthpartsomuchlikeFame，asthatoutcryofhisoverthehotelregisterinMontreal。Wewerecomradesforfourorfiverichdays，andsharedourpleasuresandexpensesinviewingthemonumentsofthoseancientCanadiancapitals，whichIthinkwevaluedatalltheirpicturesqueworth。Wemadejokestomaskouremotions；wegiggledandmadegiggle，intherightway；wefellinandoutoflovewithalltheprettyfacesanddresseswesaw；andwetalkedevermoreaboutliteratureandliterarypeople。Hehadmoreacquaintancewiththeone，andmorepassionfortheother，buthecouldtellmeofPfaff’slager—beercellaronBroadway，wheretheSaturdayPressfellowsandtheotherBohemiansmet；andthis，forthetime，wasenough：IresolvedtovisititassoonasIreachedNewYork，inspiteofthetobaccoandbeer（whichIwasgiventounderstandwerederigueur），thoughtheyboth，sofarasIhadknownthem，wereapttomakemesick。
IwasverydesolateafterIpartedfromthisgoodfellow，whoreturnedtoMontrealonhiswaytoNewYork，whileIremainedinQuebectocontinuelateronminetoNewEngland。WhenIcameinfromseeinghimoffinacalashfortheboat，IdiscoveredBayardTaylorinthereadingroom，wherehesatsunkeninwhatseemedasomewhatwearymuse。Hedidnotknowme，orevennoticeme，thoughImadeseveralerrandsinandoutofthereading—roominthevainhopethatbemightdoso：doublyvain，forIamawarenowthatIwasstillflownwiththeprideofthatprettyexperienceinMontreal，andtrustedinarepetitionofsomethinglikeit。Atlast，asnochancevolunteeredtohelpme，Imusteredcouragetogouptohimandnamemyself，andsayIhadoncehadthepleasureofmeetinghimatDoctor———————’sinColumbus。ThepoetgavenosignofconsciousnessatthesoundofanamewhichIhadfondlybeguntothinkmightnotbesoallunknown。Helookedupwithanunkindlingeye，andasked，Ah，howwastheDoctor？andwhenIhadreportedfavorablyoftheDoctor，ourconversationended。
Hewasprobablyastiredashelooked，andhemusthaveclassedmewiththatmultitudealloverthecountrywhohadsharedthepleasureI
professedinmeetinghimbefore；itwassurelymyfaultthatIdidnotspeakmynameloudenoughtoberecognized，ifIspokeitatall；butthecourageIhadmustereddidnotquitesufficeforthat。Inafteryearsheassuredme，firstbyletterandthenbyword，ofhisgriefforanincidentwhichIcanonlyrecallnowastheuntowardbeginningofacordialfriendship。Itwasoftenmyprivilege，inthosedays，asreviewerandeditor，totestifymysenseofthebeautifulthingshedidinsomanykindsofliterature，butIneverlikedanyofthembetterthanIlikedhim。Hehadaferventdevotiontohisart，andhewasalwaysgoingtodothegreatestthingsinit，withanexpectationofeffectthatneverfailedhim。Thethingsheactuallydidwerenoneofthemmean，orwantinginquality，andsomeofthemareofalastingcharmthatanyonemayfeelwhowillturntohispoems；butnodoubtmanyofthemfellshortofhishopesofthemwiththereader。Itwasfinetomeethimwhenhewasfullofanewscheme；hetalkedofitwithasingle—heartedjoy，andtriedtomakeyouseeitofthesamecolorsandproportionsitworetohiseyes。Hesparednotoiltomakeittheperfectthinghedreamedit，andhewasnotdiscouragedbyanydisappointmenthesufferedwiththecriticorthepublic。
Hewasatirelessworker，andatlasthishealthfailedunderhislaborsatthenewspaperdesk，beneaththemidnightgas，whenheshouldlonghaverestedfromsuchlabors。Ibelievehewasobligedtodothemthroughoneofthosebusinessfortuitieswhichdeformandembitterallourlives；
buthewasnotthemantosparehimselfinanycase。Hewasalwaysattemptingnewthings，andheneverceasedendeavoringtomakehisscholarshipreparationforthewantofearlieropportunityandtraining。
IrememberthatImethimonceinaCambridgestreetwithabookinhishandwhichheletmetakeinmine。ItwasaGreekauthor，andhesaidhewasjustbeginningtoreadthelanguageatfifty：apatriarchalagetomeoftheearlythirties!
IsupposeIintimatedthesurpriseIfeltathistakingitupsolateintheday，forhesaid，withcharmingseriousness，"Oh，butyouknow，Iexpecttouseitintheotherworld。"Yea，thatmadeitworthwhile，Iconsented；butwashesureoftheotherworld？"AssureasIamofthis，"hesaid；andIhavealwayskepttheimpressionoftheyoungfaithwhichspokeinhisvoiceandwasmorethanhiswords。
IsawhimlastinthehourofthosetremendousadieuxwhichwerepaidhiminNewYorkbeforehesailedtobeministerinGermany。ItwasoneofthemostgracefulthingsdonebyPresidentHayes，who，mostofallourPresidentsafterLincoln，honoredhimselfinhonoringliteraturebyhisappointments，togivethatplacetoBayardTaylor。Therewasnoonemorefitforit，anditwaspeculiarlyfitthatheshouldbesodistinguishedtoapeoplewhoknewandvaluedhisscholarshipandtheservicehehaddoneGermanletters。Hewasashappyinit，apparently，asamancouldbeinanythingherebelow，andheenjoyedtothelastdropthemanycupsofkindnesspressedtohislipsinparting；thoughIbelievethesefarewells，atatimewhenhewasalreadyfaggedwithworkandexcitement，werenotablyharmfultohim，andhelpedtohastenhisend。Someofuswhowerenearoffriendshipwentdowntoseehimoffwhenhesailed，asthedismalandfutilewontoffriendsis；andIrecallthekind，greatfellowstandinginthecabin，amidthosesadflowersthatheapedthetables，sayinggood—bytooneafteranother，andsmilingfondly，smilingwearily，uponall。Therewaschampagne，ofcourse，andanodioushilarity，withoutmeaningandwithoutremission，tillthewarningbellchasedusashore，andourbravepoetescapedwithwhatwasleftofhislife。
IV
Ihavefollowedhimfarfromthemomentofourfirstmeeting；butevenonmywaytoveneratethoseNewEnglandluminaries，whichchieflydrewmyeyes，Icouldnotpayalessdevoirtoanauthorwho，ifCurtiswasnot，waschiefoftheNewYorkgroupofauthorsinthatday。IdistinguishedbetweentheNew—EnglandersandtheNew—Yorkers，andIsupposethereisnoquestionbutourliterarycentrewastheninBoston，whereveritis，orisnot，atpresent。ButIthoughtTaylorthen，andIthinkhimnow，oneofthefirstinourwholeAmericanprovinceoftherepublicofletters，inadaywhenitwasinarecognizablyflourishingstate，whetherweregardquantityorqualityinthenamesthatgaveitlustre。Lowellwastheninperfectcommandofthosevariedforceswhichwilllong，ifnotlastingly，keephiminmemoryasfirstamongourliterarymen，andmasterinmorekindsthananyotherAmerican。Longfellowwasinthefulnessofhisworld—widefame，andintheripenessofthebeautifulgeniuswhichwasnottoknowdecaywhilelifeendured。Emersonhademergedfromthepopulardarknesswhichhadsolongheldhimahopelessmystic，andwasshiningalambentstarofpoesyandprophecyatthezenith。Hawthorne，theexquisiteartist，theunrivalleddreamer，whomwestillalwayslikenthisoneandthatoneto，wheneverthisoneorthatonepromisesgreatlytopleaseus，andstillleavewithoutarival，withoutacompanion，hadlatelyreturnedfromhislongsojournabroad，andhadgivenusthelastoftheincomparableromanceswhichtheworldwastohaveperfectfromhishand。DoctorHolmeshadsurpassedallexpectationsinthosewhomostadmiredhisbrillianthumorandcharmingpoetrybytheinventionofanewattitudeifnotanewsortinliterature。TheturnthatcivicaffairshadtakenwasfavorabletothewidestrecognitionofWhittier’ssplendidlyricalgift；andthatheartoffire，doublysnow—boundbyQuakertraditionandPuritanenvironment；waspenetratingeverygenerousbreastwithitsflamyimpulses，andfusingallwillsinitsnoblepurpose。Mrs。
Stowe，whofaroutfamedtherestastheauthorofthemostrenownednoveleverwritten，wasprovingitnoaccidentormiraclebythefictionshewasstillwriting。
ThisgreatNewEnglandgroupmightbeenlargedperhapswithoutlossofqualitybytheinclusionofThoreau，whocamesomewhatbeforehistime，andwhosedrasticcriticismofourexpedientialandmainlyfutilecivilizationwouldfindmoreintelligentacceptancenowthanitdidthen，whenallresentmentofitsdefectswasspecializedinenmitytoSouthernslavery。DoctorEdwardEverettHalebelongedinthisgrouptoo，byvirtueofthathumor，themostinventiveandthemostfantastic，thesanest，thesweetest，thetruest，whichhadbeguntofindexpressionintheAtlanticMonthly；andthereawonderfulyounggirlhadwrittenaseriesofvividsketchesandtakentheheartofyoutheverywherewithamazeandjoy，sothatIthoughtitwouldbenolessaneventtomeetHarrietPrescottthantomeetanyofthoseIhavenamed。
Iexpectedsomehowtomeetthemall，andIimaginedthemalleasilyaccessibleintheofficeoftheAtlanticMonthly，whichhadlatelyadventuredinthefineairofhighliteraturewheresomanyotherperiodicalshadgaspedanddiedbeforeit。Thebestofthese，hitherto，andbettereventhantheAtlanticforsomereasons，thelamentedPutnam’sMagazine，hadperishedofinanitionatNewYork，andtheclaimofthecommercialcapitaltotheliteraryprimacyhadpassedwiththatbrilliantventure。NewYorkhadnothingdistinctivetoshowforAmericanliteraturebutthedecrepitanddotingKnickerbockerMagazine。Harper’sNewMonthly，thoughCurtishadalreadycometoitfromthewreckofPutnam’s，andithadlongceasedtobeeclecticinmaterial，andhadbeguntostandfornativeworkinthealliedartswhichithassincesomagnificentlyadvanced，wasnotdistinctivelyliterary，andtheWeeklyhadjustbeguntomakeitselfknown。TheCentury，Scribner’s，theCosmopolitan，McClure’s，andIknownotwhatothers，werestillunimaginedbyfive，andten，andtwentyyears，andtheGalaxywastoflashandfadebeforeanyofthemshouldkindleitsmoreeffectualfires。
TheNation，whichwasdestinedtochastiseratherthannurtureouryoungliterature，hadstillsixyearsofdreamlesspotentialitybeforeit；andtheNationwasalwaysmoreBostonianthanNew—Yorkishbynature，whateveritwasbynativity。
Philadelphiahadlongcountedfornothingintheliteraryfield。
Graham’sMagazineatonetimeshowedacertaincriticalforce，butitseemedtoperishofthisexpressionofvitality；andthereremainedGodey’sLady’sBookandPeterson’sMagazine，publicationsreallyincredibleintheirinsipidity。IntheSouththerewasnothingbutamistakensocialideal，withthemoralprinciplesallstandingontheirheadsindefenceofslavery；andintheWesttherewasafeebleandfoolishnotionthatWesterntalentwasrepressedbyEasternjealousy。
AtBostonchiefly，ifnotatBostonalone，wasthereavigorousintellectuallifeamongsuchauthorsasIhavenamed。EveryyoungwriterwasambitioustojoinhisnamewiththeirsintheAtlanticMonthly，andinthelistsofTicknor&Fields，whowereliterarypublishersinasensesuchasthebusinessworldhasknownnowhereelsebeforeorsince。Theirimprintwasawarrantofqualitytothereaderandofimmortalitytotheauthor，sothatifIcouldhavehadabookissuedbythematthatdayI
shouldnowbeinthefullenjoymentofanundyingfame。
V。
SuchwastheliterarysituationasthepassionatepilgrimfromtheWestapproachedhisholylandatBoston，bywayoftheGrandTrunkRailwayfromQuebectoPortland。Ihavenorecollectionofasleeping—car，andI
supposeIwakedandwatchedduringthewholeofthatlong，roughjourney；
butIshouldhardlyhavesleptiftherehadbeenacarforthepurpose。
IwastooeagertoseewhatNewEnglandwaslike，andtooanxiousnottolosetheleastglimpseofit，toclosemyeyesafterIcrossedtheborderatIslandPond。Ifoundthatintheelm—dottedlevelsofMaineitwasveryliketheWesternReserveinnorthernOhio，whichis，indeed，aportionofNewEnglandtransferredwithallitscharacteristicfeatures，andflattenedoutalongthelakeshore。ItwasnottillIbegantorunsouthwardintotheolderregionsofthecountrythatitlostthislook，andbecamegratefullystrangetome。ItneverhadtheeffectofhoaryantiquitywhichIhadexpectedofacountrysettledmorethantwocenturies；withitswood—builtfarmsandvillagesitlookednewerthanthecoal—smokedbrickofsouthernOhio。IhadprefiguredtheNewEnglandlandscapebareofforests，relievedhereandtherewiththeteesoforchardsorplantations；butIfoundapparentlyasmuchwoodlandasathome。
AtPortlandIfirstsawtheocean，andthiswasasortofdisappointment。
TidesandsaltwaterIhadalreadyhadatQuebec，sothatIwasnolongeronthealertforthem；butthecolorandthevastnessoftheseaIwasstilltotryuponmyvision。WhenIstoodonthePromenadeatPortlandwiththekindyoungUnitarianministerwhomIhadbroughtaletterto，andwholedmethereforamostimpressivefirstviewoftheocean，I
couldnotmakemoreofitthantherewasofLakeErie；andIhaveneverthoughtthecoloroftheseacomparabletothetenderblueofthelake。
Ididnothintmydisappointmenttomyfriend；IhadtoomuchregardforthefeelingsofanEasternmantodecryhisoceantohisface，andIfeltbesidesthatitwouldbevulgarandprovincialtomakecomparisons。IamgladnowthatIheldmytongue，forthatkindsoulisnolongerinthisworld，andIshouldnotliketothinkheknewhowfarshortofmyexpectationstheseahewassoproudofhadfallen。Iwentupwithhimintoatowerorbelvederetherewasathand；andwhenhepointedtotheeasternhorizonandsaid，NowtherewasnothingbutseabetweenusandAfrica，Ipretendedtoexpandwiththethought，andbegantosoundmyselffortheemotionswhichIoughttohavefeltatsuchasight。ButinmyheartIwasempty，andHeavenknowswhetherIsawthesteamerwhichtheancientmarinerinchargeofthattowerinvitedmetolookatthroughhistelescope。Inevercouldseeanythingbutavitreousglarethroughatelescope，whichhasavicioushabitofdodgingaboutthroughspace，andfailingtobringdownanythingoflessthanplanetarymagnitude。
ButtherewassomethingatPortlandvastlymoretomethanseasorcontinents，andthatwasthehousewhereLongfellowwasborn。Ibelieve，now，Ididnotgettherighthouse，butonlythehousehewenttoliveinlater；butitserved，andIrejoicedinitwitharapturethatcouldnothavebeenmoregenuineifithadbeentherealbirthplaceofthepoet。I
gotmyfriendtoshowme"————thebreezydomeofgroves，TheshadowsofDeering’swoods，"
becausetheywereinoneofLongfellow’sloveliestandtenderestpoems；
andImadeanerrandtothedocks，forthesakeofthe"———blackwharvesandtheslips，Andthesea—tidestossingfree，AndSpanishsailorswithbeardedlips，Andthebeautyandmysteryoftheships，Andthemagicofthesea，"
mainlyforthereasonthatthesewerecolorsandshapesofthefondvisionofthepoet’spast。IamindoubtwhetheritwasatthistimeoralatertimethatIwenttorevere"——thedeadcaptainsastheylayIntheirgraveso’erlookingthetranquilbay，wheretheyinbattledied，"
butIamquitesureitwasnowthatIwanderedunder"——thetreeswhichshadoweachwell—knownstreet，Astheybalanceupanddown，"
forwhenIwasnextinPortlandthegreatfirehadsweptthecityavenuesbareofmostofthosebeautifulelms，whoseGothicarchesandtraceriesI
wellremember。
ThefactisthatinthosedaysIwasburstingwiththemostromanticexpectationsoflifeineveryway，andIlookedatthewholeworldasmaterialthatmightbeturnedintoliterature，orthatmightbeassociatedwithitsomehow。IdonotknowhowImanagedtokeepthesepreposteroushopeswithinme，butperhapsthetrickofsatirizingthem，whichIhadearlylearnt，helpedmetodoit。IwasatthatparticularmomentresolvedaboveallthingstoseethingsasHeinrichHeinesawthem，oratleasttoreportthemashedid，nomatterhowIsawthem；
andIwentaboutframingphrasestothisend，andtryingtomatchtheobjectsofinteresttothemwhenevertherewastheleastchanceofgettingthemtogether。
VI。
IdonotknowhowIfirstarrivedinBoston，orwhetheritwasbeforeorafterIhadpassedadayortwoinSalem。AsSalemisonthewayfromPortland，IwillsupposethatIstoppedtherefirst，andexploredthequaintoldtown（quainterthenthannow，butstillquaintenough）forthememorialsofHawthorneandofthewitcheswhichunitedtoformtheSalemIcaredfor。IwentandlookeduptheHouseofSevenGables，andsufferedanunreasonabledisappointmentthatithadnotagreatmanymoreofthem；buttherewasnolossinthedeath—warrantofBridgetBishop，withthesheriff’sreturnofexecutionuponit，whichIfoundattheCourt—house；ifanything，thepathosofthatwitnessofoneofthecruelestdelusionsintheworldwasratherinexcessofmyneeds；Icouldhavegotonwithless。Isawthepinswhichthewitchesweresworntohavethrustintotheafflictedchildren，andIsawGallowsHill，wherethehaplessvictimsoftheperjurywerehanged。Butthatdeath—warrantremainedthemostvividcolorofmyexperienceofthetragedy；Ihadnoneedtoinvitemyselftoasenseofit，anditisstilllikeastainofredinmymemory。
Thekindoldship’scaptainwhoseguestIwas，andwhowastransfiguredtopoetryinmysensebythefactthatheusedtovoyagetotheAfricancoastforpalm—oilinformerdays，ledmeallaboutthetown，andshowedmetheCustom—house，whichIdesiredtoseebecauseitwasintheprefacetotheScarletLetter。ButIperceivedthathedidnotsharemyenthusiasmfortheauthor，andIbecamemoreandmoresensiblethatinSalemairtherewasacoolundercurrentoffeelingabouthim。Nodoubttheplacewasnotaltogethergratefulforthecelebrityhisromancehadgivenit，andwouldhavevaluedmoretheuninterruptedquietofitsownflatteringthoughtsofitself；butwhenitcametohearingayoungladysaysheknewagirlwhosaidshewouldliketopoisonHawthorne，itseemedtothedevoutyoungpilgrimfromtheWestthatsomethingmoreofloveforthegreatromancerwouldnothavebeentoomuchforhim。
Hawthornehadalreadyhadhissay，however，andhehadnotusedhisnativetownwithanygreattenderness。Indeed，theadvantagestoanyplaceofhavingagreatgeniusbornandrearedinitsmidstaresodoubtfulthatitmightbewellforlocalitiesdesigningtobecomethebirthplacesofdistinguishedauthorstothinktwiceaboutit。Perhapsonlythelargestcapitals，likeLondonandParis，andNewYorkandChicago，oughttoriskit。Buttheauthorshaveanunaccountableperversity，andwillseldomcomeintotheworldinthelargecities，whicharealonewithoutthesenseofneighborhood，andthepersonalsusceptibilitiessounfavorabletothepracticeoftheliteraryart。
Idaresaythatitwasowingtothelocalindifferencetohergreatestname，orherreluctancefromit，thatIgotaclearerimpressionofSaleminsomeotherrespectsthanIshouldhavehadifIhadbeeninvitedtheretodevotemyselfsolelytotheassociationsofHawthorne。ForthefirsttimeIsawanoldNewEnglandtown，Idonotknow，butthemostcharacteristic，andtookintomyyoungWesternconsciousnessthefactofamorecomplexcivilizationthanIhadyetknown。Mywholelifehadbeenpassedinaregionwheremenwerejustbeginningancestors，andtheconceptionoffamilywasveryimperfect。Literature，ofcourse，wasfullofit，anditwasnotforadevoteeofThackeraytobetheoreticallyignorantofitsmanifestations；butIhadhithertocarelesslysupposedthatfamilywasnowhereregardedseriouslyinAmericaexceptinVirginia，whereitfurnishedajokefortherestofthenation。ButnowIfoundmyselfconfrontedwithitinitsancienthouses，andhearditsnamespronouncedwithacertainconsideration，whichIdaresaywasasmuchtheirdueinSalemasitcouldbeanywhere。Thenameswereallstrange，andallindifferenttome，butthosefinesquarewoodenmansions，ofatastefularchitecture，andapalebuff—color，withdrawingthemselvesinquietreservefromthequietstreet，gavemeanimpressionoffamilyasanactualityandaforcewhichIhadneverhadbefore，butwhichnoWesternercanyetunderstandtheEastwithouttakingintoaccount。IdonotsupposethatIconceivedoffamilyasafactofvitalimportthen；
IthinkIratherregardeditasacolortobeusedinanyaestheticstudyofthelocalconditions。IamnotsurethatIvalueditmoreevenforliterarypurposes，thanthesteeplewhichthecaptainpointedoutasthefirstandlastthinghesawwhenhecameandwentonhislongvoyages，orthanthegreatpalm—oilcasks，whichheshowedme，andwhichIrelatedtothetreethatstood"AufbrennenderFelsenwand。"
Whetherthatwasthekindofpalmthatgivestheoil，orwasasortonlysuitabletobethedreamofalonelyfir—treeintheNorthonacoldheight，Iamindoubttothisday。
Iheard，notwithoutconcern，thattheneighboringindustryofLynnwaspenetratingSalem，andthattheancienthauntofthewitchesandthebirthplaceofoursubtlestandsomberestwizardwasbecomingagreatshoe—town；butmyconcernwaslessforitsmemoriesandsensibilitiesthanforanodiousdutywhichIowedthatindustry，togetherwithalltheothersinNewEngland。BeforeIlefthomeIhadpromisedmyearliestpublisherthatIwouldundertaketoedit，orcompile，ordosomethingliteraryto，aworkontheoperationofthemoredistinctivemechanicalinventionsofourcountry，whichhehadconceivedthenotionofpublishingbysubscription。Hehadfurnishedme，themostimmechanicalofhumankind，withaletteraddressedgenerallytothegreatmillsandfactoriesoftheEast，entreatingtheirmanagerstounfoldtheirmysteriestomeforthepurposesofthisvolume。Hisletterhadtheeffectofshuttingupsomeofthemlikeclams，andothersitputupontheirguardagainstmyresearches，lestIshouldseizethesecretoftheirspecialinventionsandpublishittotheworld。IcouldnottellthemanagersthatIwasbothmorallyandmentallyincapableofthis；
thattheymighthaveexplainedanddemonstratedthepropertiesandfunctionsoftheirmostreconditemachinery，anduponexaminationafterwardsfoundmeguiltlessofhavinganythingbutafewversesofHeineorTennysonorLongfellowinmyhead。SoIhadtosufferinseveralplacesfromtheirunjustanxieties，andfrommyownwearinessoftheiringeniousengines，orelseendurethepangsofabadconsciencefromignoringthem。AslongasIwasinCanadaIwashappy，fortherewasnoindustryinCanadathatIsaw，exceptthatofthepeasantgirls，intheirEvangelinehatsandkirtles，tossingthehayintheway—sidefields；butwhenIreachedPortlandmytroublesbegan。IwentwiththatyoungministerofwhomIhavespokentoalargefoundry，wheretheywerecastingsomesortofironmongery，andinspectedtheprocessfromadistancebeyondanychancespurtofthemoltenmetal，andcameawaysadlyuncertainofputtingtheratherfinespectacletoanypracticaluse。
Amanufactorywheretheydidsomethingwithcoal—oil（whichInowheardforthefirsttimecalledkerosene）refuseditselftome，andIsaidtomyselfthatprobablyalltheotherindustriesofPortlandwereasreserved，andIwouldnotseektoexplorethem；butwhenIgottoSalem，myconsciencestirredagain。IfIknewthattherewereshoe—shopsinSalem，oughtnotItogoandinspecttheirprocesses？Thiswasaquestionwhichwouldnotansweritselftomysatisfaction，andIhadnopeacetillIlearnedthatIcouldseeshoemakingmuchbetteratLynn，andthatLynnwassuchalittlewayfromBostonthatIcouldreadilyrunupthere，ifIdidnotwishtoexaminetheshoemachineryatonce。
IpromisedmyselfthatIwouldrunupfromBoston，butinordertodothisImustfirstgotoBoston。
VII。
IamsupposingstillthatIsawSalembeforeIsawBoston，buthoweverthefactmaybe，IamsurethatIdecideditwouldbebettertoseeshoemakinginLynn，whereIreallydidseeit，thirtyyearslater。Forthepurposesofthepresentvisit，IcontentedmyselfwithlookingatamachineinHaverhill，whichchewedashoesolefullofpegs，anddroppeditoutofitsironjawswithanindifferenceasgreatasmyown，andprobablyaslittlesenseofhowithaddoneitswork。Imaybeunjusttothatmachine；HeavenknowsIwouldnotwrongit；andImustconfessthatmyheadhadnoroominitfortheconceptionofanymachinerybutthemythological，whichalsoIdespised，inmyrevulsionfromtheeighteenth—
centurypoetstothoseofmyownday。
IcannotquitemakeoutafterthelapseofsomanyyearsjusthoworwhenIgottoHaverhill，orwhetheritwasbeforeorafterIhadbeeninSalem。Thereisanapparitionalqualityinmypresences，atthispointorthat，inthedimpast；butIhopethat，forthecreditoftheirorder，ghostsarenotcommonlytakenwithsuchtrivialthingsasIwas。Forinstance，inHaverhillIwasmuchinterestedbythesightofayoungman，cominggaylydownthestepsofthehotelwhereIlodged，inpeg—toptrouserssomuchmorepegtopthanmyownthatIseemedtobewearingmerespring—bottomsincomparison；andinadaywheneveryonewhorespectedhimselfhadanecktieasnarrowashecouldget，thisyouthhadonenowiderthanashoestring，andredatthat，whileminemeasuredalmostaninch，andwasblack。Tobesure，hewasoneofabandofnegrominstrels，whoweretogiveaconcertthatnight，andhehadalighttoexcelinfashion。
Iwillsuppose，forconvenience’sake，thatIvisitedHaverhill，too，beforeIreachedBoston：somehowthatshoe—peggingmachinemustcomein，anditmayaswellcomeinhere。WhenIactuallyfoundmyselfinBoston，therewereperhapsindustrieswhichitwouldhavebeenwellformetocelebrate，butIeithermadebelievetherewerenone，orelseIhonestlyforgotallaboutthem。IneithercaseIreleasedmyselfaltogethertotheliteraryandhistoricalassociationsoftheplace。IneednotsaythatIgavemyselffirsttothefirst，anditrathersurprisedmetofindthattheliteraryassociationsofBostonreferredsolargelytoCambridge。IdidnotknowmuchaboutCambridge，exceptthatitwastheseatoftheuniversitywhereLowellwas，andLongfellowhadbeen，professor；andsomehowIhadnotrealizeditasthehomeofthesepoets。
Thatwasratherstupidofme，butitisbesttoownthetruth，andafterwardIcametoknowtheplacesowellthatImaysafelyconfessmyearlierignorance。
IhadstoppedinBostonattheTremontHouse，whichwasstilloneofthefirsthostelriesofthecountry，andImusthaveinquiredmywaytoCambridgethere；butIwasscepticalofthedirectiontheCambridgehorse—cartookwhenIfoundit，andIhintedtothedrivermyanxietiesastowhyheshouldbestartingeastwhenIhadbeentoldthatCambridgewaswestofBoston。Hereassuredmeinthelaconicandsarcasticmannerofhiskind，andwereallyreachedCambridgebytheroutehehadtaken。
Thebeautifulelmsthatshadedgreatpartofthewaymassedthemselvesinthe"grovesofacademe"attheSquare，andshowedpleasantglimpsesof"OldHarvard’sscholarfactoriesred，"thenfarfewerthannow。Itmusthavebeeninvacation，forImetnooneasIwanderedthroughthecollegeyard，tryingtomakeupmymindastohowIshouldlearnwhereLowelllived；foritwashewhomIhadcometofind。HehadnotonlytakenthepoemsIsenthim，buthehadprintedtwooftheminasinglenumberoftheAtlantic，andhadevenwrittenmealittlenoteaboutthem，whichI
worenextmyheartinmybreastpockettillIalmostworeitout；andsoIthoughtImightfitlyreportmyselftohim。ButIhavealwaysbeenhelplessinfindingmyway，andIwasstilldepressedbymyfailuretoconvincethehorse—cardriverthathehadtakenthewrongroad。Iletseveralpeoplegobywithoutquestioningthem，andthoseIdidaskabashedmefartherbynotknowingwhatIwantedtoknow。WhenIhadremittedmysearchforthemoment，anancientman，withanopenmouthandaninquiringeye，whomIneverafterwardsmadeoutinCambridge，addressedmewithahospitableoffertoshowmetheWashingtonElm。
IthoughtthiswouldgivemetimetoemboldenmyselfforthemeetingwiththeeditoroftheAtlanticifIshouldeverfindhim，andIwentwiththatkindoldman，whowhenhehadshownmethetree，andthespotwhereWashingtonstoodwhenhetookcommandoftheContinentalforces，saidthathehadabranchofit，andthatifIwouldcometohishousewithhimhewouldgivemeapiece。Intheend，ImeantmerelytoflatterhimintotellingmewhereIcouldfindLowell，butIdissembledmypurposeandpretendedapassionforapieceofthehistoricelm，andtheoldmanledmenotonlytohishousebuthiswood—house，wherehesawedmeoffablocksogenerousthatIcouldnotgetitintomypocket。IfeignedthegratitudewhichIcouldseethatheexpected，andthenItookcouragetoputmyquestiontohim。Perhapsthatpatriarchlivedonlyinthepast，andcaredforhistoryandnotliterature。HeconfessedthathecouldnottellmewheretofindLowell；buthedidnotforsakeme；hesetforthwithmeuponthestreetagain，andletnomanpasswithoutaskinghim。
IntheendwemetonewhowasabletosaywhereMr。Lowellwas，andI
foundhimatlastinalittlestudyattherearofapleasant，old—fashionedhouseneartheDelta。
Lowellwasnotthenattheheightofhisfame；hehadjustreachedthisthirtyyearsafter，whenhedied；butIdoubtifhewaseverafteragreaterpowerinhisowncountry，ormorecompletelyembodiedtheliteraryaspirationwhichwouldnotandcouldnotpartitselffromtheloveoffreedomandthehopeofjustice。Forthesakeofthesehehadbeenwillingtosufferthereproachwhichfollowedtheirfriendsintheearlierdaysoftheanti—slaverystruggle：Hehadoutlivedthereproachlongbefore；butthefearofhisstrengthremainedwiththosewhohadfeltit，andhehadnotmadehimselfmoregenerallylovedbythe’FableforCritics’thanbythe’BiglowPapers’，probably。Butinthe’VisionofSirLaunfal’andthe’LegendofBrittany’hehadwonalikingifnotalisteningfarwiderthanhishumorandhiswithadgothim；andinhislecturesontheEnglishpoets，givennotmanyyearsbeforehecametothechargeoftheAtlantic，hehadprovedhimselfeasilythewisestandfinestcriticinourlanguage。Hewasalready，morethananyAmericanpoet，"Doweredwiththehateofhate，thescornofscorn，Theloveoflove，"
andheheldaplaceinthepublicsensewhichnootherauthoramongushasheld。Ihadmyselfneverbeenagreatreaderofhispoetry，whenI
methim，thoughwhenIwasaboyoftenyearsIhadheardmyfatherrepeatpassagesfromtheBiglowPapersagainstwarandslaveryandthewarforslaveryuponMexico，andlaterIhadreadthosecriticismsofEnglishpoetry，andIknewSirLaunfalmustbeLowellinsomesort；butmyloveforhimasapoetwaschieflycentredinmyloveforhistenderrhyme，’AufWiedersehen’，whichIcannotyetreadwithoutsomethingoftheyoungpathositfirststirredinme。Iknewandfelthisgreatnesssomehowapartfromtheliteraryproofsofit；heruledmyfancyandheldmyallegianceasacharacter，asaman；andIamneithersorrynorashamedthatIwasabashedwhenIfirstcameintohispresence；andthatinspiteofhiswordsofwelcomeIsatinwardlyquakingbeforehim。Hewasthenforty—oneyearsold，andnineteenmysenior，andiftherehadbeennothingelsetoaweme，Imightwellhavebeenquelledbythedisparityofourages。ButIhavealwaysbeenwillingandeveneagertodohomagetomenwhohavedonesomething，andnotablytomenwhohavedonesomething。inthesortIwishedtodosomethingin，myself。I
couldneverrecognizeanyothersortofsuperiority；butthatIamproudtorecognize；andIhadbeforeLowellsomesuchfeelingasanobscuresubalternmighthavebeforehisgeneral。Hewasbynatureabitofadisciplinarian，andtheeffectwasfromhimaswellasinme；IdaresayheletmefeelwhateverdifferencetherewasashelplesslyasIfeltit。
Atthefirstencounterwithpeoplehealwayswasapttohaveacertainfrostyshyness，asmilingcold，asfromthelong，high—sunnedwintersofhisPuritanrace；hewasnotquitehimselftillhehadmadeyouawareofhisquality：thennoonecouldbesweeter，tenderer，warmerthanhe；thenhemadeyoufreeofhiswholeheart；butyoumustbehiscaptivebeforehecoulddothat。Hiswholepersonalityhadnowaninstantcharmforme；
Icouldnotkeepmyeyesfromthosebeautifuleyesofhis，whichhadacertainstarryserenity，andlookedoutsopurelyfromunderhiswhiteforehead，shadowedwithauburnhairuntouchedbyage；orfromthesmilethatshapedtheauburnbeard，andgavethefaceinitsformandcolortheChrist—lookwhichPage’sportraithasflatteredinit。
Hisvoicehadasgreatafascinationformeashisface。Thevibranttendernessandthecrispclearnessofthetones，theperfectmodulation，theclearenunciation，theexquisiteaccent，theelectdiction——Ididnotknowenoughthentoknowthatthesewerethegifts，thesewerethegraces，ofonefromwhosetongueourroughEnglishcamemusicsuchasI
shouldneverhearfromanyother。InthisspeechtherewasnothingofourslipshodAmericanslovenliness，butatrulyItalianconscienceandanartisticsenseofbeautyintheinstrument。
Isaw，beforehesatdownacrosshiswriting—tablefromme，thathewasnotfarfromthemediumheight；buthiserectcarriagemadethemostofhisfivefeetandoddinches。Hehadbeensmokingthepipeheloved，andheputitbackinhismouth，presently，asifhefoundhimselfatgreatereasewithit，whenhebegantochat，orrathertoletmeshowwhatmannerofyoungmanIwasbygivingmethefirstword。ItoldhimofthetroubleIhadinfindinghim，andIcouldnothelpdragginginsomethingaboutHeine’ssearchforBorne，whenhewenttoseehiminFrankfort；butIfeltatoncethiswasafalsestart，forLowellwassuchanimpassionedloverofCambridge，whichwastrulyhispatria，intheItaliansense，thatitmusthavehurthimtobeunknowntoanyoneinit；hesaid，alittledryly，thatheshouldnothavethoughtIwouldhavesomuchdifficulty；butheadded，forgivingly，thatthiswasnothisownhouse，whichhewasoutofforthetime。ThenhespoketomeofHeine，andwhenIshowedmyardorforhim，hesoughttotemperitwithsomejudiciouscriticisms，andtoldmethathehadkeptthefirstpoemIsenthim，forthelongtimeithadbeenunacknowledged，tomakesurethatitwasnotatranslation。Heaskedmeaboutmyself，andmyname，anditsWelshorigin，andseemedtofindthevanityIhadinthisharmlessenough。
WhenIsaidIhadtriedhardtobelievethatIwasatleasttheliterarydescendantofSirJamesHowels，hecorrectedmegentlywith"JamesHowel，"andtookdownavolumeofthe’FamiliarLetters’fromtheshelvesbehindhimtoprovemewrong。Thiswasalwayshishabit，asIfoundafterwardswhenhequotedanythingfromabookhelikedtogetitandreadthepassageover，asifhetastedakindofhoardedsweetnessinthewords。Itvisiblyvexedhimiftheyshowedhimintheleastmistaken；
but"Theloveheboretolearningwasatfault"
forthisfoible，andthatotherofsettingpeoplerightifhethoughtthemwrong。IcouldnotassertmyselfagainsthisversionofHowels’sname，formyeditionofhisletterswasfarawayinOhio，andIwasobligedtoownthatthenamewasspeltinseveraldifferentwaysinit。
Heperceived，nodoubt，whyIhadchosentheformlikedmyown，withthetitlewhichthepleasantoldturncoatoughttohavehadfromthemanymastersheservedaccordingtotheirmanyminds，butneverhadexceptfromthaterringedition。Hedidnotafflictmeforit，though；probablyitamusedhimtoomuch；heaskedmeabouttheWest，andwhenhefoundthatIwasasproudoftheWestasIwasofWales，heseemedevenbetterpleased，andsaidhehadalwaysfanciedthathumannaturewaslaidoutonratheralargerscaletherethanintheEast，buthehadseenverylittleoftheWest。InmyheartIdidnotthinkthisthen，andIdonotthinkitnow；humannaturehashadmoregroundtospreadoverintheWest；thatisall；but"itwasnotformetobandywordswithmysovereign。"Hesaidhelikedtohearofthedifferencesbetweenthedifferentsections，forwhatwehadmosttofearinourcountrywasawearisomesamenessoftype。
Hedidnotsaynow，oratanyothertimeduringthemanyyearsIknewhim，anyofthoseslightingthingsoftheWestwhichIhadsooftentosufferfromEasternpeople，butsufferedmetopraiseitallIwould。HeaskedmewhatwayIhadtakenincomingtoNewEngland，andwhenItoldhim，andbegantoraveofthebeautyandquaintnessofFrenchCanada，andtopouroutmyjoyinQuebec，hesaid，withasmilethathadnowlostallitsfrost，Yes，Quebecwasabitoftheseventeenthcentury；itwasinmanywaysmoreFrenchthanFrance，anditspeoplespokethelanguageofVoltaire，withtheaccentofVoltaire’stime。
Idonotrememberwhatelsehetalkedof，thoughonceIremembereditwithwhatIbelievedanineffaceabledistinctness。Isetnothingofitdownatthetime；IwastoobusywiththelettersIwaswritingforaCincinnatipaper；andIwasseverelybentuponkeepingallpersonalitiesoutofthem。Thiswasverywell，butIcouldwishnowthatIhadtransgressedatleastsofarastoreportsomeofthethingsthatLowellsaid；forthepaperdidnotprintmyletters，anditwouldhavebeenperfectlysafe，andveryusefulforthepresentpurpose。Butperhapshedidnotsayanythingverymemorable；todothatyoumusthavesomethingpositiveinyourlistener；andIwasthemereresponse，thehollowecho，thatyouthmustbeinlikecircumstances。Iwasallthetimeafraidofwearingmywelcomeout，andIhurriedtogowhenIwouldsogladlyhavestaid。IdonotrememberwhereImeanttogo，orwhyheshouldhaveundertakentoshowmethewayacross—lots，butthiswaswhathedid；andwhenwecametoafence，whichIclamberedgracelesslyover，heputhishandsonthetop，andtriedtotakeitatabound。Hetriedtwice，andthenlaughedathisfailure，butnotwithanygreatpleasure，andhewasnotcontenttillathirdtrialcarriedhimacross。Thenhesaid，"Icommonlydothatthefirsttime，"asifitwereafrequenthabitwithhim，whileIremaineddiscreetlysilent，andforthatmomentatleastfeltmyselftheelderofthemanwhohadsomuchoftheboyinhim。Hehad，indeed，muchoftheboyinhimtothelast，andhepartedwitheachhourofhisyouthreluctantly，pathetically。
VIII。
WewalkedacrosswhatmusthavebeenJarvisFieldtowhatmusthavebeenNorthAvenue，andthereheleftme。Butbeforeheletmegoheheldmyhandwhilehecouldsaythathewishedmetodinewithhim；only，hewasnotinhisownhouse，andhewouldaskmetodinewithhimattheParkerHouseinBoston，andwouldsendmewordofthetimelater。
IsupposeImayhavespentpartoftheinterveningtimeinviewingthewondersofBoston，andvisitingthehistoricscenesandplacesinitandaboutit。IcertainlywentovertoCharleston，andascendedBunkerHillmonument，andexploredthenavy—yard，wheretheimmemorialman—of—warbeguninJackson’stimewasthensilentlystretchingitselfunderitslongshedinapoeticarrest，asifthefailureoftheappropriationforitscompletionhadbeensomekindofenchantment。InBoston，Iearlypresentedmyletterofcredittothepublisheritwasdrawnupon，notthatIneededmoneyatthemoment，butfromayoungeagernesstoseeifitwouldbehonored；andaliteraryattacheofthehousekindlywentaboutwithme，andshowedmethelifeofthecity。Agreatcityitseemedtomethen，andaseethingvortexofbusinessaswellasawhirlofgaiety，asIsawitinWashingtonStreet，andinapromenadeconcertatCopeland’srestaurantinTremontRow。ProbablyIbroughtsomeidealizingforcetobearuponit，forIwasnotallsostrangetotheworldasImustseem；perhapsIaccountedforqualityaswellasquantityinmyimpressionsoftheNewEnglandmetropolis，andaggrandizeditintheratioofitsliteraryimportance。Itseemedtomeold，evenafterQuebec，andverylikelyIcreditedtheactualtownwithallthedeadandgoneBostoniansinmysentimentalcensus。IfIdidnot，itwasnofaultofmycicerone，whothoughtevenmoreofthecityheshowedmethanI
did。Idonotknownowwhohewas，andIneversawhimafterIcametolivethere，withanycertaintythatitwashe，thoughIwasoftentormentedwiththevisionofaspectacledfacelikehis，butnotlikeenoughtowarrantmeinaddressinghim。
HebecamepartofthatghostlyBostonofmyfirstvisit，whichwouldsometimesreturnandpossessagainthecityIcametoknowsofamiliarlyinlateryears，andtobesopassionatelyinterestedin。Somecolorofmyprimeimpressionshastingedthefictitiousexperiencesofpeopleinmybooks，butIfindverylittleofitinmymemory。Thisislikeaweboffrayedoldlace，whichIhavetotakecarefullyintomyholdforfearofitsfragility，andmakeoutasbestIcanthefigureoncesodistinctinit。Therearethenarrowstreets，stretchingsaltworkstothedocks，whichIhauntedfortheirquaintness，andthereisFaunalHall，whichI
caredtoseesomuchmorebecauseWendellPhillipshadspokeninitthanbecauseOtisandAdamshad。ThereistheoldColonialHouse，andthereistheStateHouse，whichIdaresayIexplored，withtheCommonslopingbeforeit。ThereisBeaconStreet，withtheHancockHousewhereitisincrediblynomore，andtherearethebeginningsofCommonwealthAvenue，andtheotherstreetsoftheBackBay，laidoutwiththeirbasementslefthollowedinthemadeland，whichthegraveltrainswereyetmakingoutofthewestwardhills。ThereisthePublicGarden，newlyplannedandplanted，butwithoutthemassivebridgedestinedtomakesoungratefullylittleofthelakethatoccasionedit。Butitisallveryvague，andI
couldeasilybelievenowthatitwassomeoneelsewhosawittheninmyplace。