literary boston as i knew it-第5章

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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；　allowed　him　a　brief　respite　for　the　task　which　was　dear　to　him。
He　must　have　been　more　than　a　quarter　of　a　century　in　completing　it；　and
in　this　time；　as　he　once　told　me；　it　had　given　him　a　day…laborer's　wages；
but　of　course　money　was　the　least　return　he　wished　from　it。　　I　read　the
regularly　successive　volumes　of　'The　Jesuits　in　North　America；　The　Old
Regime　in　Canada'；　the　'Wolfe　and　Montcalm'；　and　the　others　that　went　to
make　up　the　whole　history　with　a　sufficiently　noisy　enthusiasm；　and　our
acquaintance　began　by　his　expressing　his　gratification　with　the　praises
of　them　that　I　had　put　in　print。　　We　entered　into　relations　as
contributor　and　editor；　and　I　know　that　he　was　pleased　with　my　eagerness
to　get　as　many　detachable　chapters　from　the　book　in　hand　as　he　could　give
me　for　the　magazine；　but　he　was　of　too　fine　a　politeness　to　make　this　the
occasion　of　his　first　coming　to　see　me。　　He　had　walked　out　to　Cambridge；
where　I　then　lived；　in　pursuance　of　a　regimen　which；　I　believe；　finally
built　up　his　health；　that　it　was　unsparing；　I　can　testify　from　my　own
share　in　one　of　his　constitutionals　in　Boston；　many　years　later。

His　experience　in　laying　the　groundwork　for　his　history；　and　his
researches　in　making　it　thorough；　were　such　as　to　have　liberated　him　to
the　knowledge　of　other　manners　and　ideals；　but　he　remained　strictly　a
Bostonian；　and　as　immutably　of　the　Boston　social　and　literary　faith　as
any　I　knew　in　that　capital　of　accomplished　facts。　　He　had　lived　like　an
Indian　among　the　wild　Western　tribes；　he　consorted　with　the　Canadian
archaeologists　in　their　mousings　among　the　colonial　archives　of　their
fallen　state；　every　year　he　went　to　Quebec　or　Paris　to　study　the　history
of　New　France　in　the　original　documents；　European　society　was　open　to　him
everywhere；　but　he　had　those　limitations　which　I　nearly　always　found　in
the　Boston　men；　I　remember　his　talking　to　me　of　'The　Rise　of　Silas
Lapham'；　in　a　somewhat　troubled　and　uncertain　strain；　and　interpreting
his　rise　as　the　achievement　of　social　recognition；　without　much　or　at　all
liking　it　or　me　for　it。　　I　did　not　think　it　my　part　to　point　out　that　I
had　supposed　the　rise　to　be　a　moral　one；　and　later　I　fell　under　his
condemnation　for　certain　high　crimes　and　misdemeanors　I　had　been　guilty
of　against　a　well…known　ideal　in　fiction。　　These　in　fact　constituted
lese…majesty　of　romanticism；　which　seemed　to　be　disproportionately　dear
to　a　man　who　was　in　his　own　way　trying　to　tell　the　truth　of　human　nature
as　I　was　in　mine。　　His　displeasures　passed；　however；　and　my　last　meeting
with　our　greatest　historian；　as　I　think　him；　was　of　unalloyed
friendliness。　　He　came　to　me　during　my　final　year　in　Boston　for　nothing
apparently　but　to　tell　me　of　his　liking　for　a　book　of　mine　describing
boy…life　in　Southern　Ohio　a　half…century　ago。　　He　wished　to　talk　about
many　points　of　this；　which　he　found　the　same　as　his　own　boylife　in　the
neighborhood　of　Boston；　and　we　could　agree　that　the　life　of　the　Anglo…
Saxon　boy　was　pretty　much　the　same　everywhere。　　He　had　helped　himself
into　my　apartment　with　a　crutch；　but　I　do　not　remember　how　he　had　fallen
lame。　　It　was　the　end　of　his　long　walks；　I　believe；　and　not　long
afterwards　I　had　the　grief　to　read　of　his　death。　　I　noticed　that　perhaps
through　his　enforced　quiet；　he　had　put　on　weight；　his　fine　face　was　full；
whereas　when　I　first　knew　him　he　was　almost　delicately　thin　of　figure　and
feature。　　He　was　always　of　a　distinguished　presence；　and　his　face　had　a
great　distinction。

It　had　not　the　appealing　charm　I　found　in　the　face　of　James　Parton；
another　historian　I　knew　earlier　in　my　Boston　days。　　I　cannot　say　how
much　his　books；　once　so　worthily　popular；　are　now　known　but　I　have　an
abiding　sense　of　their　excellence。　　I　have　not　read　the　'Life　of
Voltaire'；　which　was　the　last；　but　all　the　rest；　from　the　first；　I　have
read；　and　if　there　are　better　American　biographies　than　those　of　Franklin
or　of　Jefferson；　I　could　not　say　where　to　find　them。　The　Greeley　and　the
Burr　were　younger　books；　and　so　was　the　Jackson；　and　they　were　not　nearly
so　good；　but　to　all　the　author　had　imparted　the　valuable　humanity　in
which　he　abounded。　　He　was　never　of　the　fine　world　of　literature；　the
world　that　sniffs　and　sneers；　and　abashes　the　simpler…hearted　reader。
But　he　was　a　true　artist；　and　English　born　as　he　was；　he　divined　American
character　as　few　Americans　have　done。　　He　was　a　man　of　eminent　courage；
and　in　the　days　when　to　be　an　agnostic　was　to　be　almost　an　outcast；　he
had　the　heart　to　say　of　the　Mysteries；　that　he　did　not　know。　　He　outlived
the　condemnation　that　this　brought；　and　I　think　that　no　man　ever　came
near　him　without　in　some　measure　loving　him。　　To　me　he　was　of　a　most
winning　personality；　which　his　strong；　gentle　face　expressed；　and　a　cast
in　the　eye　which　he　could　not　bring　to　bear　directly　upon　his　vis…a…vis；
endeared。　　I　never　met　him　without　wishing　more　of　his　company；　for　he
seldom　failed　to　say　something　to　whatever　was　most　humane　and　most
modern　in　me。　　Our　last　meeting　was　at　Newburyport；　whither　he　had　long
before　removed　from　New　York；　and　where　in　the　serene　atmosphere　of　the
ancient　Puritan　town　he　found　leisure　and　inspiration　for　his　work。
He　was　not　then　engaged　upon　any　considerable　task；　and　he　had　aged　and
broken　somewhat。　　But　the　old　geniality；　the　old　warmth　glowed　in　him；
and　made　a　summer　amidst　the　storm　of　snow　that　blinded　the　wintry　air
without。　　A　new　light　had　then　lately　come　into　my　life；　by　which　I　saw
all　things　that　did　not　somehow　tell　for　human　brotherhood　dwarfish　and
ugly；　and　he　listened；　as　I　imagined；　to　what　I　had　to　say　with　the
tolerant　sympathy　of　a　man　who　has　been　a　long　time　thinking　those
things；　and　views　with　a　certain　amusement　the　zeal　of　the　fresh
discoverer。

There　was　yet　another　historian　in　Boston；　whose　acquaintance　I　made
later　than　either　Parkman's　or　Parton's；　and　whose　very　recent　death
leaves　me　with　the　grief　of　a　friend。　　No　ones　indeed；　could　meet　John
Codman　Ropes　without　wishing　to　be　his　friend；　or　without　finding　a
friend　in　him。　　He　had　his　likes　and　his　dislikes；　but　he　could　have　had
no　enmities　except　for　evil　and　meanness。　　I　never　knew　a　man　of　higher
soul；　of　sweeter　nature；　and　his　whole　life　was　a　monument　of　character。
It　cannot　wound　him　now　to　speak　of　the　cruel　deformity　which　came　upon
him　in　his　boyhood；　and　haunted　all　his　after　days　with　suffering。　　His
gentle　face　showed　the　pain　which　is　always　the　part　of　the　hunchback；
but　nothing　else　in　him　confessed　a　sense　of　his　affliction；　and　the
resolute　activity　of　his　mind　denied　it　in　every　way。　　He　was；　as　is　well
known；　a　very　able　lawyer；　in　full　practice；　while　he　was　making　his
studies　of　military　history；　and　winning　recognition　for　almost　unique
insight　and　thoroughness　in　that　direction；　though　I　believe　that　when　he
came　to　embody　the　results　in　those　extraordinary　volumes　recording　the
battles　of　our　civil　war；　he　retired　from　the　law　in　some　measure。　　He
knew　these　battles　more　accurately　than　the　generals　who　fought　them；　and
he　wa