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literary boston as i knew it-第6章

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no sympathy with those who think that the man who may any moment be out
of work is industrially a slave。  This is not strange; so few men last
over from one reform to another that the wonder is that any should; not
that one should not。  Whittier was prophet for one great need of the
divine to man; and he spoke his message with a fervor that at times was
like the trembling of a flame; or the quivering of midsummer sunshine。
It was hard to associate with the man as one saw him; still; shy; stiff;
the passion of his verse。  This imbued not only his antislavery
utterances; but equally his ballads of the old witch and Quaker
persecution; and flashed a far light into the dimness where his
interrogations of Mystery pierced。  Whatever doubt there can be of the
fate of other New England poets in the great and final account; it seems
to me that certain of these pieces make his place secure。

There is great inequality in his work; and I felt this so strongly that
when I came to have full charge of the Magazine; I ventured once to
distinguish。  He sent me a poem; and I had the temerity to return it; and
beg him for something else。  He magnanimously refrained from all show of
offence; and after a while; when he had printed the poem elsewhere;
he gave me another。  By this time; I perceived that I had been wrong;
not as to the poem returned; but as to my function regarding him and such
as he。  I had made my reflections; and never again did I venture to pass
upon what contributors of his quality sent me。  I took it and printed it;
and praised the gods; ;and even now I think that with such men it was not
my duty to play the censor in the periodical which they had made what it
was。  They had set it in authority over American literature; and it was
not for me to put myself in authority over them。  Their fame was in their
own keeping; and it was not my part to guard it against them。

After that experience I not only practised an eager acquiescence in their
wish to reach the public through the Atlantic; but I used all the
delicacy I was master of in bowing the way to them。  Sometimes my utmost
did not avail; or more strictly speaking it did not avail in one instance
with Emerson。  He had given me upon much entreaty a poem which was one of
his greatest and best; but the proof…reader found a nominative at odds
with its verb。  We had some trouble in reconciling them; and some other
delays; and meanwhile Doctor Holmes offered me a poem for the same
number。  I now doubted whether I should get Emerson's poem back in time
for it; but unluckily the proof did come back in time; and then I had to
choose between my poets; or acquaint them with the state of the case; and
let them choose what I should do。  I really felt that Doctor Holmes had
the right to precedence; since Emerson had withheld his proof so long
that I could not count upon it; but I wrote to Emerson; and asked (as
nearly as I can remember) whether he would consent to let me put his poem
over to the next number; or would prefer to have it appear in the same
number with Doctor Holmes's; the subjects were cognate; and I had my
misgivings。  He wrote me back to 〃return the proofs and break up the
forms。〃  I could not go to this iconoclastic extreme with the
electrotypes of the magazine; but I could return the proofs。  I did so;
feeling that I had done my possible; and silently grieving that there
could be such ire in heavenly minds。




X。

Emerson; as I say; I had once met in Cambridge; but Whittier never;
and I have a feeling that poet as Cambridge felt him to be; she had her
reservations concerning him。  I cannot put these into words which would
not oversay them; but they were akin to those she might have refined upon
in regard to Mrs。 Stowe。  Neither of these great writers would have
appeared to Cambridge of the last literary quality; their fame was with a
world too vast to be the ;test that her own

               〃One entire and perfect crysolite〃

would have formed。  Whittier in fact had not arrived at the clear
splendor of his later work without some earlier turbidity; he was still
from time to time capable of a false rhyme; like morn and dawn。  As for
the author of 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' her syntax was such a snare to her that
it sometimes needed the combined skill of all the proof…readers and the
assistant editor to extricate her。  Of course; nothing was ever written
into her work; but in changes of diction; in correction of solecisms; in
transposition of phrases; the text was largely rewritten on the margin of
her proofs。  The soul of her art was present; but the form was so often
absent; that when it was clothed on anew; it would have been hard to say
whose cut the garment was of in many places。  In fact; the proof…reading
of the 'Atlantic Monthly' was something almost fearfully scrupulous and
perfect。  The proofs were first read by the under proof…reader in the
printing…office; then the head reader passed them to me perfectly clean
as to typography; with his own abundant and most intelligent comments on
the literature; and then I read them; making what changes I chose; and
verifying every quotation; every date; every geographical and
biographical name; every foreign word to the last accent; every technical
and scientific term。  Where it was possible or at all desirable the proof
was next submitted to the author。  When it came back to me; I revised it;
accepting or rejecting the author's judgment according as he was entitled
by his ability and knowledge or not to have them。  The proof now went to
the printers for correction; they sent it again to the head reader; who
carefully revised it and returned it again to me。  I read it a second
time; and it was again corrected。  After this it was revised in the
office and sent to the stereotyper; from whom it came to the head reader
for a last revision in the plates。

It would not do to say how many of the first American writers owed their
correctness in print to the zeal of our proof…reading; but I may say that
there were very few who did not owe something。  The wisest and ablest
were the most patient and grateful; like Mrs。 Stowe; under correction;
it was only the beginners and the more ignorant who were angry; and
almost always the proof…reading editor had his way on disputed points。
I look back now; with respectful amazement at my proficiency in detecting
the errors of the great as well as the little。  I was able to discover
mistakes even in the classical quotations of the deeply lettered Sumner;
and I remember; in the earliest years of my service on the Atlantic;
waiting in this statesman's study amidst the prints and engravings that
attested his personal resemblance to Edmund Burke; with his proofs in my
hand and my heart in my mouth; to submit my doubts of his Latinity。  I
forget how he received them; but he was not a very gracious person。

Mrs。 Stowe was a gracious person; and carried into age the inalienable
charm of a woman who must have been very; charming earlier。  I met her
only at the Fieldses' in Boston; where one night I witnessed a
controversy between her and Doctor Holmes concerning homoeopathy and
allopathy which lasted well through dinner。  After this lapse of time;
I cannot tell how the affair ended; but I feel sure of the liking with
which Mrs。 Stowe inspired me。  There ;was something very simple; very
motherly in her; and something divinely sincere。  She was quite the
person to take 'au grand serieux' the monstrous imaginations of Lady
Byron's jealousy and to feel it on her conscience to make public report
of them when she conceived that the time had come to do so。

In Francis Parkman I knew much later than in some others a
differentiation of the New England type which was not less
characteristic。  He; like so many other Boston men of letters; was of
patrician family; and of those easy fortunes which Clio prefers her sons
to be of; but he paid for these advantages by the suffering in which he
wrought at what is; I suppose; our greatest history。  He wrought at it
piecemeal; and sometimes only by moments; when the terrible head aches
which tormented him; and the disorder of the heart which threatened his
life
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