American ideas for English readers
Date: 2024-05-29T00:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Speeches; addresses; etc.; American

The Project Gutenberg eBook of American ideas for English readers

This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

Title: American ideas for English readers

Author: James Russell Lowell

Author of introduction, etc.: Henry Stone

Release date: May 29, 2024 [eBook #73728]

Language: English

Original publication: Boston: J. G. Cupples Co

Credits: Carol Brown, Charlene Taylor and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMERICAN IDEAS FOR ENGLISH READERS ***

American Ideas For English Readers.

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL,
AFTER THE BUST BY
William Ordway Partridge.
(TAKEN FROM THE CLAY)

American
Ideas
For
English Readers

By

James Russell Lowell

With Introduction by

Henry Stone

Published by
J, G, Cupples Co,
250 Boylston St.
Boston

Copyright, 1892,
By J. G. CUPPLES.

All rights reserved.

Contents.

Introduction | vii
Before the Edinburgh Philosophical Institution | 1
Before the London Chamber of Commerce | 9
At the University of Cambridge | 15
On Robert Browning | 21
At the Unveiling of the Gray Memorial | 25
Before the Town Council of the City of Worcester | 33
On International Arbitration | 39
At a Royal Academy Dinner | 47
At the Stratford Memorial Fountain Presentation | 57
At the Dinner to American Authors | 63
Before the Liverpool Philomathic Society | 81

Introduction.

Among his many titles to the special consideration and gratitude of his countrymen, James Russell Lowell had one in pre-eminence—an unyielding loyalty to all that was best in American ideas and aims. It was this quality that gave point to the wit of Hosea Biglow, and loftiness to his imagination in his more serious poems. In the earliest of the Biglow papers, he calls upon Massachusetts to

“Hold up a beacon peerless

To the oppressed of all the World,”

and the tone is not changed to his very latest utterance. In that Commemoration Ode, which will remain the crown of his literary and poetical work, his passion found its highest expression:

“O Beautiful! My Country! * * *
Smoothing thy gold of war-dishevelled hair
O’er such sweet brows as never other wore
*   *   *   *   *
What words divine of lover or of poet
Could tell our love—and make thee know it
Among the Nations bright beyond compare?”

An impression has prevailed—and has gained credence at some times and in some places, that, in his later years, and in the presence of a society differently organized from that which he found at home, the ardor of his love of country was quenched:—that he became less an American as he saw more of other lands. What is it to be an American? The definition may vary, in different regions. What was it, always, with him? If to be an American means merely to be successful in a large and worldly way—whether in politics, or in business, or in letters; to out-talk, out-spend, out-bid, out-invent others; to drive faster; to travel farther; to push harder; to build bigger houses; to found more richly endowed Universities; to construct greater Observatories; to establish more and larger public libraries:—if to do these and similar things is all that goes to make an American—the charge is true. In such sense, Mr. Lowell was not so good an American as some others. But, in the larger and truer sense:—in striving for all that goes to make a people more noble in aim, more humane, more intelligent, more peace-loving, more free, more self-respecting, more artistic, in short more fully men and women of the best type,—Mr. Lowell may well be accepted as the representative American, of whom we should all be proud.

It was his rare fortune to be Minister of the United States to Great Britain during a most interesting period. The serious troubles which had grown out of the wrong we had suffered at her hands during the civil war had been happily ended. The era of reconciliation had begun. In what light should we stand before the world, after winning the great verdict in the Alabama case:—as a community of sharp traders, condoning a great national wrong for a petty sum of money?—or as a people striving chiefly for the maintenance of the true principles of national honor and international comity? Mr. Lowell, perhaps more than any one in America, was the man who, by training, by culture, by scholarship, by attainments in the world of letters, by unsullied character, was fitted to present to the English people an embodiment of Americanism, in its best expression. More than that:—he was eminently fitted to illustrate that idea, and give it weight, dignity and authority. In all his intercourse with the aristocratic representatives of privileged countries, he—the plain, untitled representative of a democratic government—proud to stand for a people with whom liberty and equality were supreme terms—more than held his own in every trial of intellect, of courtesy, of wit, of all that wins in society and the world. So, at last, no circle was complete without him:—to claim him as guest was matter of emulation.

Some of these things are, in a certain sense, of small account. Yet in a society so largely conventional as all diplomatic society is, and of necessity must be, it is much that an American should, by common consent, stand at the head, even in matters of ceremonial. It reveals a quickness and versatility of mind which is not common. A certain native, spontaneous grace, both of words and manner, characterized all Mr. Lowell’s utterances; and it was so truly genuine that it could not fail to charm, when the mere external imitation was sure to repel.

The record which this little book gives of his unstudied speeches and letters in England shows how thoroughly imbued he was with the American idea. It also shows how strenuously he used every occasion to try to bring about a higher and truer friendship between the two great countries whose mission it seems to be to uphold and extend regulated liberty throughout the world. Some of these speeches were made while he was still accredited Minister to Great Britain: others, after he had ceased to hold the title, though he remained in reality the true American representative to that people. There is, perhaps, no other instance of a citizen of the United States holding such position, with ever increasing regard, for years after he had ceased to be titular representative. The honors bestowed on him by the Universities were more than out-done by the honor in which he was held by the people. The one was a tribute to scholarship and attainments:—the other, a recognition of manhood and integrity.

In the heroic years which made up so large a part of the experience of all men in the United States from 1861 to 1865, Mr. Lowell’s part was as efficient as that of many a general on the battle field. When the era of peace and reconciliation came, he maintained the same lofty principles which had prompted all his former actions and words. The spirit which dictated “The Present Crisis” so long ago as 1845, also dictated the “Fourth of July Ode” in 1876. But how different the tone of these two impassioned lyrics! The one a vigorous, manly, resistless protest against the

“Sons of brutish Force and Darkness

Who have drenched the earth with blood,”

The other, a sublime thanksgiving for the salvation of

“The Land to Human Nature dear.”

It is in the light of these strenuous outbursts of the unconquered spirit of independence that his words spoken in lighter vein are to be read and considered. Everywhere is the same faith and hope:—only, in these later speeches, they find expression in words fitted for social pleasantry and genial intercourse.

Nowhere do after-dinner speeches—which, with us, are usually momentary and evanescent in effect—carry so much weight as in England. There often a public dinner is an event. Questions of peace or war: of party policy: of methods of administration: of national destiny, are often decided or directed by words spoken at the dinner table. Therefore, these speeches of Mr. Lowell have a much greater significance than if made on similar occasions with us. In every one is to be found an earnest endeavor, first to secure a higher appreciation of his country than he found prevailing among that insular and self-contained people:—and next to encourage and stimulate the formation of a real and sincere friendship between the mother country and her over-grown child. He gained these ends by the exercise of unfailing tact, courtesy and courage, which first disarmed criticism; and then by presenting considerations which commanded respect and carried conviction. Even his American humor gained the appreciation of these lovers of Punch.

The first of the speeches which are here given was made in 1880—the last in 1888. One invariable note is struck in them all. Beginning with that at Edinburgh, he claims—what we all conceive to be true—that the traditions of English freedom and English civilization have not only been maintained, but also extended, among us: and he refers, with evident and just pride, to the quick and intelligent appreciation of Carlyle in America, long before he won recognition in his own England. And, in his last speech, on the eve of leaving Liverpool to return home, he dwells with great earnestness on the duty laid on English-speaking races everywhere to carry with them the great lessons of liberty combined with order.

In all these evidently unstudied and spontaneous expressions of his permanent feeling and conviction, Mr. Lowell claims our hearty consideration. His voice is everywhere and always loyal to his native land, which he loved and honored: to freedom, which he held above all price: to that liberty and civilization which it is the joint mission of England and America to maintain to the uttermost. Difference of methods between the two countries there may be: but the end to be reached is the same. To help reach this, Mr. Lowell gave his best energies. His words had a power beyond what he could have thought possible. If there is now, in England, a clearer appreciation of American ideas: less of that condescension which was once so evident in foreigners: more readiness to see and to seek the best rather than the worst in our modes of life and thought: a clearer understanding that, at heart, we are one people—a very large share of that improved condition is due to James Russell Lowell. The method of securing that better understanding was—not by denying or ignoring certain manifest short-comings or over-doings:—but by constantly holding up to the world the best we had done, or striven to do:—and, more than all, by illustrating it in his own person:—so that even our enemies were compelled to confess that there must be some good in our land, if such men as he were the

“New birth of our new soil.”

Henry Stone.

Boston,

January 1, 1892.

American Ideas for English Readers.

I.

BEFORE THE EDINBURGH PHILOSOPHICAL INSTITUTION.

On Saturday evening, November 6, 1880, the directors of the Edinburgh Philosophical Institution entertained Mr. James Russell Lowell, American Minister, at dinner in the Balmoral Hotel in that city. Dr. W. Smith, senior vice-president of the institution, occupied the chair, and among others present were the Earl of Rosebery, Lord Reay, Principal Sir Alexander Grant, the Rev. Professor Flint, and Professor Blackie. Mr. Lowell, in returning thanks for the toast of his health, said:

He thought that they in America had done quite their share of work in their short life, although he was always inclined to question the statement that they were a young people. It was supposed, somehow or other, that they were autochthonic; that they had sprung from the earth of America, as the Athenians were said to have done from the soil of Attica. But it was nothing of the kind. If he might be allowed to say so, they began where those in this country left off. It must be remembered that they took with them all the traditions of English freedom and of English civilization, and that they not only maintained them, but, in his humble judgment, carried them further. (Cheers.)

Mr. Lowell concluded by referring to early association on his part with Edinburgh.

Afterwards, proposing “The health of Mr. Carlyle and the Philosophical Institution of Edinburgh,” Mr. Lowell said that—

America in a certain sense performed the office of posterity to England and Scotland. Their authors were first recognized across the Atlantic. (Cheers.) He would not say it was owing to quicker perception, but rather to their clearness of atmosphere (laughter) that they had this luck sometimes. He remembered particularly a book which was published while he was still at college, and which produced in his young mind as great a ferment as it did among all his contemporaries. That book was “Sartor Resartus.” (Cheers.) It was first collected and published in the year 1836 in the city of Boston, in the United States of America (cheers); and it there received its first approbation. Their chairman, Dr. Smith, had told him during the course of the evening that when “Sartor Resartus” first began to appear in Fraser’s Magazine the editor received two letters, one from an Irishman, if he was not mistaken, saying that if that particular kind of stuff—describing it with what usually began with a “d” (laughter)—was to be continued he wished his subscription to be stopped. The other letter was from an American, saying that if the writer of “Sartor Resartus” in Fraser’s Magazine had written anything else he wished it all to be sent to him. (Laughter.) The second writer was a man he knew well—Ralph Waldo Emerson. (Cheers.) He remembered being very much struck many years ago with something which Thackeray said to him. It was that Carlyle was his master. That was said nearly thirty years ago. The other day he took up a number of the Nineteenth Century, and in an article by Mr. Ruskin he observed that he said Carlyle was his master. This coincidence, the difference between Thackeray and Ruskin being remembered, only showed, he thought, the universality of Carlyle’s influence. (Cheers.) He meant to say that Carlyle approached different men on different sides, which was one of the strongest marks that could be mentioned of genius. Carlyle had found an approach to their intellects and to their hearts, to the intellects and hearts of a great variety of men of different nations. He had introduced a new style—a peculiarly English style—of looking at things, quite as much as Sir Walter Scott introduced a new style of novel-writing. Sir Walter Scott, he considered, was the greatest story-teller of the age. (Cheers.) Carlyle had the surprising gift of expressing poetic thought in prose. (Cheers.) It was particularly their gratitude to him on the moral and human side that they would feel in drinking, not only with enthusiasm, but with a sort of reverence, the health of Mr. Carlyle.

The toast was received with much enthusiasm. Other toasts followed.

✠

II.

BEFORE THE LONDON CHAMBER OF COMMERCE.

The second annual dinner of the London Chamber of Commerce, which was incorporated in 1881, was held on the evening of January 29, 1883, in the Cannon-street Hotel, the Right Hon. H. C. E. Childers, M. P., Chancellor of the Exchequer, in the chair. The company, which numbered about 180, included representatives not only of the great commercial communities of London and all the most important of our colonies, but of the English-speaking race in every part of the world.

On the chairman’s left sat the Hon. J. Russell Lowell, D. C. L., United States Minister.

In proposing “The Chambers of Commerce of the United Kingdom and of the Whole World,” he said:

Mr. Chairman, my Lords and Gentlemen,—I was a few moments ago discussing with my excellent friend upon the left what a diplomatist might be permitted to say, and I think the result of the discussion was that he was left to his choice between saying nothing that had any meaning or saying something that had several—(laughter); and as one of those diplomatists to whom the Under Secretary for Foreign Affairs alluded a short time ago I should rather choose the latter course, because it gives one afterwards a selection when the time for explanation comes round. (Laughter.) I shall not detain you long, for I know that there are speakers both on the right and on the left of me who are impatient to burst the bud; and I know that I have not been selected for the pleasant duty that has been assigned to me for any merits of my own. (Cries of dissent.) You will allow me to choose my own reason, gentlemen. I repeat, I have not been chosen so much for my own merits as for the opportunity afforded you of giving expression to your kindness and good feeling towards the country I represent—(cheers)—a country which exemplifies what the colonies of England may come to if they are not wisely treated. (Laughter and cheers.) Speaking for myself and for one or two of my compatriots whom I see here present, I should certainly say that that was no unpleasant destiny in itself. But I do not, nor do my countrymen, desire that those great commonwealths which are now joined to England by so many filial ties should ever be separated from her.

I am asked to-night to propose the “Chambers of Commerce of the United Kingdom and of the World,” and I might, if the clock did not warn me against it—(“Go on”)—if my own temperament did not stand a little in the way—I might say to you something very solemn on the subject of commerce. I might say how commerce, if not a great civilizer in itself, had always been a great intermediary and vehicle of civilization. I might say that all the great commercial States have been centres of civilization, and centres of those forces which keep civilization from becoming stupid. I do not say which is the post and which the propter in this inference; but I do say that the two things have been almost invariably associated.

One word as to commerce in another relation which touches me more nearly. Commerce and the rights and advantages of commerce, ill understood and ignorantly interpreted, have often been the cause of animosities between nations. But commerce rightly understood is a great pacificator; it brings men face to face for barter. It is the great corrector of the eccentricities and enormities of nature and of the seasons, so that a bad harvest and a bad season in England is a good season for Minnesota, Kansas and Manitoba.

But, gentlemen, I will not detain you longer. It gives me great pleasure to propose, as the representative of the United States, the toast of “The Chambers of Commerce of the United Kingdom and of the Whole World,” with which I associate the names of Mr. C. M. Norwood, M. P., vice-president of the Associated Chambers of the United Kingdom, and the Hon. F. Strutt, president of the Derby Chamber. (Cheers.)

✠

III.

AT THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE.

The University of Cambridge having under comparatively recent regulations given archæology a definitely-recognized position among the subjects for the Classical Tripos examination, has now advanced another important step by establishing a suitable home for classical studies, and under the same roof has provided a home for the antiquarian and ethnological collections of the University. For the past eleven years classical archæology has been systematically taught, but what was previously carried on under difficulties has been since 1884 pursued under advantageous circumstances. New buildings were formally opened May 6, 1884, by the Vice-Chancellor. Brief addresses were made by the Vice-Chancellor and Prof. Colvin. Mr. Lowell then said:

He also regretted with the Vice-Chancellor, both on his own account and on theirs, the absence of the French Ambassador, who could have spoken on archæological subjects from the position of a master. He had been asked to say a few words, and with sincerity he could say that it always gave him great pleasure to be the herald that brought to the old home a message from the new. That scarlet gown, which had suddenly converted him into a flaming minister (laughter), reminded him that Cambridge had adopted him as one of her children. (Cheers.) He therefore felt charged to bring a message from the new Cambridge in the New World—a message of filial respect—to the old Cambridge in the Old World. There was also a propriety in his being there, from the fact that a great deal of the interest which had been felt in this undertaking had been stimulated by the lectures and the labors of a countryman of his own. Having said this, he might naturally be expected to take his seat, but he knew he was not expected to do so. He was compelled, like the Ancient Mariner, to go on with his story, whether he would or not. He often thought of the African and the monkey. The African had a notion that the monkey could speak if he would, but that he would not let anybody know he could, for fear he should be made to work. Now, he had to acknowledge a sort of prophylactic taciturnity. He had only one word which had some bearing on the subject. He was exceedingly interested in going through the museum, under the able guidance of Professor Colvin. The whole arrangement of it interested him. Each cast, almost from the rude fetish to the highest conception of the human brain and the human hand, was very striking. It was more than striking; it was most hopeful and encouraging. As he walked through the museum he could not help remembering that 60 years ago he saw in the museum at Boston some casts from the antique, and the ignorant delight which they first gave to his eye; he remembered also the education they gave to his eye as he grew older, and he should never forget that debt. These impressions were of greater value and much more operative when made early. He was struck, in going through the museum with Professor Colvin, with the vital relation between æsthetic archæology (if they would allow him to call it so), as represented in the museum, and Greek literature. It seemed to him that what one felt always when brought into contact with the work of Grecian hands or the production of the Grecian brain was its powerful vitality. By powerful vitality he did not mean merely the life in itself, but the vitality which it communicated. Here, it seemed to him, was the great value of being brought into more intimate relation with the Greeks. When he was looking that morning on the statue of Nikê, the original of which stands at the head of the great staircase in the Louvre, it seemed to him that it ought to be the figure of one who stood on the prow of the ship which brought the news of the victory of Salamis. It was not by any means certain, mixed race that we were, that the existence of a museum like that at Cambridge would not stir in some one an ancestral vigor, some hereditary quality or faculty that should make him into an artist.

✠

IV.

ON ROBERT BROWNING.

The fashion of this world passed away, but the fashion of those things which belonged to the world of imagination—and it was most emphatically in that world that Mr. Browning had worked—endured and never passed. In 1848 Mr. Browning said in a preface to a collection of his poems that many of them were out of print and of the rest a great number had been withdrawn from circulation, which implied that even at that time the size of his public was very small. But he had fully demonstrated that he stood in no need of a Browning Society to reinforce his native vigor, for, in spite of the indifference of the public, he had constantly gone on, from that time to this, producing and deepening the impression which he had made upon all thinking minds. It had been said that he had no sense of form, but this question depended upon the meaning to be attached to that word. One thing he thought was certain, and that was that men who had discussed form most, as for instance Goethe, had not always been the most successful in producing examples of it. Certainly no one with any sense of form could call “Faust” other than formless. If form meant the use of adequate and harmonious means to produce a certain artistic end, then he knew no one who had given truer examples of it than the great poet after whom that society took its name. He thought there was one danger in a Browning Society, which was that it might lead them to be partisans, and he thought he had seen some symptoms of it. They might be apt to insist upon people admiring the inferior work of the artist with his better work, and this he thought would be an evil. Every one who read Browning with attention, and who loved him, must at the same time admit that he was occasionally whirled away by the sweep and torrent of his own abundance. But after making these deductions, there was no poet who had given us a greater variety or who had shown more originality. Mr. Browning abided with them. He was not a fashion, nor did he belong to any one period of their lives. What they felt more clearly than anything else was his strength. He was of all others a masculine, a virile poet.

✠

V.

AT THE UNVEILING OF THE GRAY MEMORIAL.

The following address was delivered on the occasion of the unveiling of the bust of the poet Gray in the hall of Pembroke College, Cambridge, May 26, 1885:

I have been asked to say a few words, but they must be very few, as the train is waiting for me that takes me back to keep an engagement. Mr. Gosse has told you he has been present at many memorial unveilings, and the newspapers inform me that I also have been present at the unveiling of perhaps too many. But never have I been present on any occasion with more pleasure than on this. You have now, in the words which Lord Houghton quoted, and which I would extend in a wider sense than he did, a beautiful memorial to Gray in permanent form. We also, thanks to Mr. Gosse, possess a photograph of this memorial in permanent form. But we have in our hearts and memories, I think, a memorial to the man quite as true and quite as permanent—that is, permanent for us. Very few words are fitting on an occasion which commemorates the one of the English poets who has written less and pleased more perhaps than any other. There is a certain appropriateness in my speaking here to-day. I come here to speak simply as the representative of several countrymen and countrywomen of mine who have renewed that affirmation, which I like always to renew, of the unity of our English race by giving something more solid than words in commemoration of the poet they loved. And, I think there is another claim which I perhaps have for speaking here to-day, and that is that the most picturesque anecdote relative to the life of Gray—perhaps the most picturesque related of the life of any poet, certainly of any English poet—belongs to the Western hemisphere; I mean the anecdote which connects the name of Wolfe with that of Gray. Nothing could have been more picturesque than the surroundings of that saying of Wolfe’s—of that English hero—and nothing could have been more momentous than the action and the consequence that followed from it, and which made the United States, which I have lately represented, possible. That, I think, gives me a certain right also to speak here.

I know that sometimes criticisms are made upon Gray. I think I have often heard him called by some of our juniors “commonplace.” Upon my word, I think it a compliment. I think it shows a certain generality of application in what Gray has done, for if there is one thing more than another—I say this to the young men whom I see seated around both sides of the hall—which insures the lead in life, it is the commonplace. I have to measure my poets, my authors, by their lasting power, and I find Gray has a great deal of it. He not only pleases my youth and my age, but he pleases other people’s youth and age; and I cannot help thinking this is a proof that he touches on human nature at a great many periods and at a great many levels, and, perhaps, that is as high a compliment as can be paid to the poet. There is, I admit, a certain commonplaceness of sentiment in his most famous poem, but I think there is also a certain commonplaceness of sentiment in some verses that have been famous for more than 3000 years. I think that when Homer saw somebody smiling through her tears he said, on the whole, a commonplace thing, but it touched our feelings for a great many centuries; and I think that in the “Elegy in a Country Churchyard” Gray has expressed a simple sentiment, and as long as there are young men and middle-aged men, Gray’s poem will continue to be read and loved as in the days when it was written. There is a Spanish proverb which rebukes those people who ask something better than bread. Let those who ask for something better get something better than what Gray produced. For my own part I ask nothing better. He was, perhaps, the greatest artist in words that English literature has possessed. In conclusion, let me say one word for myself. This will probably be the last occasion on which I shall have the opportunity of addressing Englishmen in public; and I wish to express my heartfelt gratitude for the kindness which has surrounded me both in my official and private life, and to say that while I came here as a far-off cousin, I feel you are sending me away as something like a brother.

✠

VI.

BEFORE THE TOWN COUNCIL OF THE CITY OF WORCESTER.

The following reply from the Hon. J. Russell Lowell to an address presented to him by the Mayor of Worcester on behalf of the citizens was read at the meeting of the Worcester Town Council on the evening of June 2, 1885, and ordered to be recorded on the minutes:

Mr. Mayor and Gentlemen,—While I cannot but feel highly honored by the beautiful proof you have just given me that I am not forgotten by the ever-faithful city, I value even more the kindly sentiment which prompted it, and to which you have given such graceful expression. I am well aware that it is to what I represent far more than to any merit of my own that I owe this distinction, and that consciousness makes it doubly grateful to me. They who endured exile and danger and every form of hardship to found the great kindred commonwealth beyond the sea—and what that exile must have been they only can feel who know how beautiful and how justly dear was the land they left—took with them, not only such seeds as would bear good fruit for the body, but those also of many a familiar flower that could serve only as food for sentiment and affection. Yet the most precious gems of all were those of memory and tradition, that had the gift of fern-seed to go with them invisibly.

They could not forget the land of their birth, nor can we, their descendants, forget the land of our ancestry. They fondly gave the old names to the new hamlets they were planting in the wilderness. The central county of my native State is a namesake of yours. It calls itself proudly the heart of the Commonwealth, and its beautiful chief city is Worcester. You knew how to touch a chord of tenderest association when, four years ago, you claimed me as of Worcestershire because my forefathers (the Lowells) had been so. You have been pleased, Sir, to say that I have done something to strengthen the good feeling between the two great households of the English family. I am glad to think that I in any way deserve this praise, for I look upon that good feeling as of vital interest to the best hopes and aspirations of mankind. I am sure that you will find my excellent successor animated by the same sentiment, and as happy as I have always been, while warmly loyal to the country that is and should be the dearest of all, to recognize ties of blood, of language, and of kindred institutions which make England the next dearest.

As for me, Sir, the precious gift you have brought me, truly illuminated by its charming picture of buildings, some of them dear for their beauty, some because they recall your kindness or that of friends who have made me feel as if, when I went to Worcester, I was going home, is only another witness of that universal kindness (may I not say affection?) by which the land of my fathers has gone near to make me fancy that I was a son rather than a far-off cousin. As such it will always be justly dear to me and mine.

Wishing continued prosperity to the city of Worcester, I remain, etc.,

J. R. Lowell.

✠

VII.

ON INTERNATIONAL ARBITRATION.

A numerous deputation from the Workmen’s Peace Association, headed by Mr. W. R. Cremer, waited on Mr. Lowell, at the official residence in Albemarle street, on the evening of June 6, 1885, for the purpose of presenting to him an address preparatory to his leaving England for the United States. Mr. Lowell, in reply, said:

I have been exceedingly touched latterly by the kindness which I have received here in England from all classes, but never have I been more profoundly touched than by the deputation that has now waited upon me to express the kind wishes of the English Workingmen. I have twice had the pleasure of addressing working men since I have been in England, and I have been gratified to find that, among all the audiences to whom I have spoken, there were none more intelligent. They were exceedingly quick to catch all points and exceedingly agreeable to talk to.

You must not think that I have forgotten the part taken by the working men of England during our civil war—I won’t say on behalf of the North, because now we are a united people—on the side of good order and freedom; and on the only occasion when I had an opportunity of saying so—that was when speaking to the provincial press in London—I alluded to the subject. I agree with you entirely on the importance of a good understanding and much more between England and the United States, and between the two chief branches of the Anglo-Saxon race. I think you exaggerate a good deal of my own merit in relation to anything of that sort, but I have always had a feeling about me that a war between the two countries would be a civil war, and I believe a cordial understanding between them to be absolutely essential, not only to the progress of reasonable liberty, but its preservation and its extension to other races. (Hear, hear.)

It is a particular pleasure to me on another account to meet English workmen. I notice that, however ardent they may be in their aspirations and however theoretical on some points, they are always reasonable. The individual man may set the impossible before him as something to be obtained, but I think those communities of men have prospered the best who have aimed at what is possible. We see daily illustrations of that, and anybody who has studied the history of France would be convinced that, though England has a form of Government not so free as that country, yet you have made a greater advance towards good will among men and towards peace than France has done. I do not wish you to suppose that I am out of sympathy with what I call the French Revolution—although I consider it an enormous misfortune, which might have been prevented, and France saved from many evil consequences that followed—but the manner in which it took place we ought all to regard.

Since I have been in England I have done something, I trust, to promote a cordial feeling between this country and the United States. That has been my earnest desire always, and I hope I have to some extent succeeded. You will allow me to thank you warmly for this address, which I shall always feel to be among my most precious possessions, and I shall carry to the workmen on the other side of the Atlantic the message expressive of your sympathy and hope. I hope the occasion will not ever arise even for arbitration. I think if we can talk together face to face we shall be able to settle all differences. I am certain that the relations between the two countries are now of a most amicable and friendly kind, and I am sure that my successor is as strongly impressed as I could be with the necessity of strengthening those friendly relations. I trust the necessity for arbitration may never arise between us; I do not think it will.

You will again allow me to give you my most hearty and profound thanks for the kindness you have done me and to wish you all manner of prosperity. I trust also that that reign of peace to which you allude may come soon and last long. I appreciate extremely what Mr. Cremer said as to your sympathy with the Northern States in the Civil War, with whom no one could help sympathizing if they went to the root of the matter. I believe in peace as strongly as any man can do, but I believe also that there are occasions when war is less disastrous than peace; that there are times when one must resort to what goes before all law, and what, indeed, forms the foundation of it—the law of the strongest; and that, as a general rule, the strongest deserve to get the best of the struggle. They say satirically that God is on the side of the strong battalions, but I think they are sometimes in the right, and my experience goes to prove that.

[The address, engrossed on vellum, was afterwards transmitted to Mr. Lowell in America.]

✠

VIII.

AT A ROYAL ACADEMY DINNER.

On Saturday evening, May 3, 1886, the annual dinner of the Royal Academy was held at Burlington House, the chair being occupied by the president, Sir Frederic Leighton. On his right hand were the Prince of Wales, and the Duke of Cambridge, Prince Christian, Prince Henry of Battenberg, the Duke of Teck, the Lord Chancellor, and the Archbishop of York; and on his left hand were Prince Albert Victor of Wales, the Austro-Hungarian Ambassador, the Italian Ambassador, etc., etc.

Mr. Lowell, in responding for “Literature,” said:

Your Royal Highnesses, My Lords, and Gentlemen,—I think I can explain who the artist might have been who painted the reversed rainbow of which the professor has just spoken. I think, after hearing the too friendly remarks made about myself, that he was probably some artist who was to answer for his art at a dinner of the Royal Society (laughter); and, naturally, instead of painting the bow of hope, he painted the reverse, the bow of despair. (Laughter.) When I received your invitation, Mr. President, to answer for “Literature,” I was too well aware of the difficulties of your position not to know that your choice of speakers must be guided much more by the necessities of the occasion than by the laws of natural selection. (Laughter and cheers.) I remembered that the dictionaries give a secondary meaning to the phrase “to answer for,” and that is the meaning which implies some expedient for an immediate necessity, as for example, when one takes shelter under a tree from a shower one is said to make the tree answer for an umbrella. (Laughter.) I think even an umbrella in the form of a tree has certainly one very great advantage over its artificial namesake—viz., that it cannot be borrowed (laughter), not even for the exigencies for which the instrument made of twilled silk is made use of, as those certainly will admit who have ever tried it during one of those passionate paroxysms of weather to which the Italian climate is unhappily subject. (Laughter.) I shall not attempt to answer for literature, for it appears to me that literature, of all other things, is the one which is most naturally expected to answer for itself. It seems to me that the old English phrase with regard to a man in difficulties, which asks “What is he going to do about it?” perhaps should be replaced in this period of ours, when the foundations of everything are being sapped by universal discussion, with the more pertinent question, “What is he going to say about it?” (“Hear, hear,” and laughter.) I suppose that every man sent into the world with something to say to his fellow men could say it better than anyone else if he could only find out what it was. (Laughter.) I am sure that the ideal after-dinner speech is waiting for me somewhere with my address upon it, if I could only be so lucky as to come across it. (Laughter.) I confess that hard necessity, or perhaps, I may say, too soft good nature, has compelled me to make so many unideal ones that I have almost exhausted my natural stock of universally applicable sentiment and my acquired provision of anecdote and allusion. (Laughter.) I find myself somewhat in the position of Heine, who had prepared an elaborate oration for his first interview with Goethe, and when the awful moment arrived could only stammer out that the cherries on the road to Weimar were uncommonly fine. (Laughter.)

But, fortunately, the duty which is given to me to-night is not so onerous as might be implied in the sentiment which has called me up. I am consoled not only by the lexicographer as to the meaning of the phrase “to answer for,” but also by an observation of mine, which is that speakers on an occasion like this are not always expected to allude except in distant and vague terms to the subject on which they are specially supposed to talk. Now, I have a more pleasing and personal duty, it appears to me, on this my first appearance before an English audience on my return to England. It gives me great pleasure to think that in calling upon me, you call upon me as representing two things which are exceedingly dear to me, and which are very near to my heart. One is that I represent in some sense the unity of English literature under whatever sky it may be produced (cheers); and the other is that I represent also that growing friendliness of feeling, based on a better understanding of each other, which is growing up between the two branches of the British stock. (Cheers.) I could wish that my excellent successor here as American Minister could fill my place to-night, for I am sure that he is as fully inspired as I ever was with a desire to draw closer the ties of friendship between the mother and daughter, and could express it in a more eloquent and more emphatic manner than even I myself could do,—at any rate in a more authoritative manner.

For myself I have only to say that I come back from my native land confirmed in my love of it and in my faith in it. I come back also full of warm gratitude for the feeling that I find in England; I find in the old home a guest chamber prepared for me and a warm welcome. (Cheers.) Repeating what his Royal Highness the commander-in-chief has said, that every man is bound in duty if he were not bound in affection and loyalty to put his own country first, I may be allowed to steal a leaf out of the book of my adopted fellow-citizens in America; and while I love my native country first, as is natural, I may be allowed to say I love the country next best which I cannot say has adopted me, but which I will say has treated me with such kindness, where I have met with such universal kindness from all classes and degrees of people, that I must put that country at least next in my affection. (Cheers.) I will not detain you longer. I know that the essence of speaking here is to be brief, but I trust I shall not lay myself open to the reproach that in my desire to be brief I have resulted in making myself obscure. (Laughter.) I hope I have expressed myself explicitly enough; but I would venture to give another translation of Horace’s words, and say that I desire to be brief, and therefore I efface myself. (Laughter and cheers.)

✠

IX.

AT THE STRATFORD MEMORIAL FOUNTAIN PRESENTATION.

The memorial fountain presented to Stratford-on-Avon by Mr. George W. Childs, of Philadelphia, was inaugurated Monday, October 17, 1887. Mr. James Russell Lowell sent the following letter:

I should more deeply regret my inability to be present at the interesting ceremonial of the 17th were it not that my countrymen will be more fitly and adequately represented there by their accomplished Minister, Mr. Phelps. The occasion is certainly a most interesting one. The monument which you accept to-day in behalf of your townsmen commemorates at once the most marvellous of Englishmen and the jubilee year of the august lady whose name is honored wherever the language is spoken, of which he was the greatest master. No symbol could more aptly serve this double purpose than a fountain, for surely no poet ever poured forth so broad a river of speech as he, whether he was the author of the “Novum Organum” also or not. Nor could the purity of her character and example be better typified than by the current that shall flow forever from the sources opened here to-day. It was Washington Irving who first embodied in his delightful English the emotion which Stratford-on-Avon awakes in the heart of the pilgrim, and especially of the American pilgrim, who visits it. I am glad to think that this memorial should be the gift of an American and thus serve to recall the kindred blood of two great nations, joint heirs of the same noble language and of the genius that has given it a cosmopolitan significance. I am glad of it because it is one of the multiplying signs that those two nations are beginning to think more and more of the things in which they sympathize and less and less of those in which they differ. A common language is not indeed, the surest bond of amity, for this enables each country to understand whatever unpleasant thing the other may chance to say about it.

As I am one of those who believe that an honest friendship between England and America is a most desirable thing, I trust that we shall on both sides think it equally desirable in our intercourse one with another to make our mother tongue search her coffers round for the polished rather than the sharp-cornered epithets she has stored there. Let us by all means speak the truth to each other, for there is no one else who can speak it to either of us with such a fraternal instinct for the weak point of the other; but let us do it in such wise as to show that it is the truth we love and not the discomfort we can inflict by means of it. Let us say agreeable things to each other and of each other whenever we conscientiously can. My friend, Mr. Childs, has said one of these agreeable things in a very solid and durable way. A common literature and a common respect for certain qualities of character and ways of thinking supply a neutral ground where we may meet in the assurance that we shall find something amiable in each other, and from being less than kind become more than kin.

In old maps the line which outlined British possessions in America included the greater part of what is now territory of the United States. The possessions of the American in England are laid down on no map, yet he holds them in memory and imagination by a title such as no conquest ever established and no revolution can ever overthrow. The dust that is sacred to you is sacred to him. The annals which Shakspeare makes walk before us in flesh and blood are his no less than yours. These are the ties which we recognize, and are glad to recognize, on occasions like this. They will be yearly drawn closer as science goes on with her work of abolishing time and space, and thus render more easy that peaceful commerce ’twixt dividable shores which is so potent to clear away whatever is exclusive in nationality or savors of barbarism in patriotism.

I remain, dear Mr. Mayor,

Faithfully yours,

J. R. Lowell.

X.

AT THE DINNER TO AMERICAN AUTHORS.

The dinner of the Incorporated Society of Authors, on July 25, 1888, was given to the “American Men and Women of Letters” who happened to be in London on that date. Mr. Lowell spoke as follows:

I confess that I rise under a certain oppression. There was a time when I went to make an after-dinner speech with a light heart, and when on my way to the dinner I could think over my exordium in my cab and trust to the spur of the moment for the rest of my speech. But I find as I grow older a certain aphasia overtakes me, a certain inability to find the right word precisely when I want it; and I find also that my flank becomes less sensitive to the exhilarating influences of that spur to which I have just alluded. I had pretty well made up my mind not to make any more after-dinner speeches. I had an impression that I had made quite enough of them for a wise man to speak, and perhaps more than it was profitable for other wise men to listen to. I confess that it was with some reluctance that I consented to speak at all to-night. I had been bethinking me of the old proverb of the pitcher and well which is mentioned, as you remember, in the proverb; and it was not altogether a consolation to me to think that that pitcher, which goes once too often to the well, belongs to the class which is taxed by another proverb with too great length of ears. But I could not resist. I certainly felt that it was my duty not to refuse myself to an occasion like this—an occasion which deliberately emphasizes, as well as expresses, that good feeling between our two countries which, I think, every good man in both of them is desirous to deepen and to increase. If I look back to anything in my life with satisfaction, it is to the fact that I myself have, in some degree, contributed—and I hope I may believe the saying to be true—to this good feeling. You alluded, Mr. Chairman, to a date which gave me, I must confess, what we call on the other side of the water “a rather large contract.” I am to reply, I am to answer to literature, and I must confess that a person like myself, who first appeared in print fifty years ago, would hardly wish to be answerable for all his own literature, not to speak of the literature of other people. But your allusion to sixty years ago reminded me of something which struck me as I looked down these tables.

Sixty years ago the two authors you mentioned, Irving and Cooper, were the only two American authors of whom anything was known in Europe, and the knowledge of them in Europe was mainly confined to England. It is true that Bryant’s “Water-Fowl” had already begun its flight in immortal air, but these were the only two American authors that could be said to be known in England. And what is even more remarkable, they were the only American authors at that time—there were, and had been, others known to us at home—who were capable of earning their bread by their pens. Another singular change is suggested to me as I look down these tables, and that is the singular contrast they afford between the time when Johnson wrote his famous lines about those ills that assail the life of the scholar, and by the scholar he meant the author—

Toil, envy, want, the patron, and the gaol.

And I confess when I remember that verse it strikes me as a singular contrast that I should meet with a body of authors who are able to offer a dinner instead of begging one; that I have sat here and seen “forty feeding like one,” when one hundred years ago the one fed like forty when he had the chance. You have alluded also, in terms which I shall not qualify, to my own merits. You have made me feel a little as if I were a ghost revisiting the pale glimpses of the moon, and reading with considerable wonder my own epitaph. But you have done me more than justice in attributing so much to me with regard to International Copyright. You are quite right in alluding to Mr. Putnam, who, I think, wrote the best pamphlet that has been written on the subject; and there are others you did not name who also deserve far more than I do for the labor they have expended and the zeal they have shown on behalf of International Copyright, particularly the secretaries of our international society—Mr. Lathrop and Mr. G. W. Green. And since I could not very well avoid touching upon the subject of International Copyright, I must say that all American authors without exception have been in favor of it on the moral ground, on the ground of simple justice to English authors. But there were a great many local, topical considerations, as our ancestors used to call them, that we were obliged to take into account, and which, perhaps, you do not feel as keenly here as we did. But I think we may say that the almost unanimous conclusion of American authors latterly has been that we should be thankful to get any bill that recognized the principle of international copyright, being confident that its practical application would so recommend it to the American people that we should get afterwards, if not every amendment of it that we desire, at least every one that is humanly possible. I think that perhaps a little injustice has been done to our side of the question; I think a little more heat has been imported into it than was altogether wise. I am not so sure that our American publishers were so much more wicked than their English brethren would have been if they had had the chance. I cannot, I confess, accept with patience any imputation that implies that there is anything in our climate or in our form of government that tends to produce a lower standard of morality than in other countries. The fact is that it has been partly due to a certain—may I speak of our ancestors as having been qualified by a certain dulness? I mean no disrespect, but I think it is due to the stupidity of our ancestors in making a distinction between literary property and other property. That has been at the root of the whole evil.

I, of course, understand, as everybody understands, that all property is the creature of municipal law. But you must remember that it is the conquest of civilization, that when property passes beyond the boundaries of that municipium it is still sacred. It is not even yet sacred in all respects and conditions. Literature, the property in an idea, has been something that it is very difficult for the average man to comprehend. It is not difficult for the average man to comprehend that there may be property in a form which genius or talent gives to an idea. He can see it. It is visible and palpable, this property in an idea when it is exemplified in a machine, but it is hardly so apprehensible when it is subtly interfused in literature. Books have always been looked on somewhat as feræ naturæ, and if you have ever preserved pheasants you know that when they fly over your neighbor’s boundaries he may take a pot shot at them. I remember that something more than thirty years ago Longfellow, my friend and neighbor, asked me to come and eat a game pie with him. Longfellow’s books had been sold in England by the tens of thousands, and that game pie—and you will observe the felicity of its being a game pie, feræ naturæ always you see—was the only honorarium he had ever received from this country for reprinting his works. I cannot help feeling as I stand here that there is something especially—I might almost use a cant word and say monumentally—interesting in a meeting like this. It is the first time that English and American authors, so far as I know, have come together in any numbers, I was going to say to fraternize when I remembered that I ought perhaps to add to “sororize.” We, of course, have no desire, no sensible man in England or America has any desire, to enforce this fraternization at the point of the bayonet. Let us go on criticising each other; it is good for both of us. We Americans have been sometimes charged with being a little too sensitive; but perhaps a little indulgence may be due to those who always have their faults told to them, and the reference to whose virtues perhaps is sometimes conveyed in a foot-note in small print. I think that both countries have a sufficiently good opinion of themselves to have a fairly good opinion of each other. They can afford it; and if difficulties arise between the two countries, as they unhappily may,—and when you alluded just now to what De Tocqueville said in 1828 you must remember that it was only thirteen years after our war,—you must remember how long it has been to get in the thin end of the wedge of International Copyright; you must remember it took our diplomacy nearly one hundred years to enforce its generous principle of the alienable allegiance, and that the greater part of the bitterness which De Tocqueville found in 1828 was due to the impressment of American seamen, of whom something like fifteen hundred were serving on board English ships when at last they were delivered. These things should be remembered, not with resentment but for enlightenment. But whatever difficulties occurred between the two countries, and there may be difficulties that are serious, I do not think there will be any which good sense and good feeling cannot settle. I think I have been told often enough to remember that my countrymen are apt to think that they are in the right, that they are always in the right; that they are apt to look at their side of the question only. Now, this conduces certainly to peace of mind and imperturbability of judgment, whatever other merits it may have. I am sure I do not know where we got it. Do you? I also sympathize most heartily with what has been said by the chairman with regard to the increasing love for England among my countrymen. I find on inquiry that they stop longer and in greater numbers every year in the old home, and feel more deeply its manifold charms. They also are beginning to feel that London is the centre of the races that speak English, very much in the sense that Rome was the centre of the ancient world. And I confess that I never think of London, which I also confess that I love, without thinking of that palace which David built, sitting in hearing of a hundred streams—streams of thought, of intelligence, of activity. And one other thing about London, if I may be allowed to refer to myself, impresses me beyond any other sound I have ever heard, and that is the low, unceasing roar that one hears always in the air. It is not a mere accident, like the tempest or the cataract, but it is impressive because it always indicates human will and impulse and conscious movement, and I confess that when I hear it I almost feel that I am listening to the roaring loom of time. A few words more. I will only say this, that we, as well as you, have inherited a common trust in the noble language which, in its subtle compositiveness, is perhaps the most admirable instrument of human thought and human feeling and cunning that has ever been unconsciously devised by man. May our rivalries be in fidelity to that trust. We have also inherited certain traditions political and moral, and in doing our duty towards these it seems to me that we shall find quite enough occupation for our united thought and feeling.

✠

XI.

BEFORE THE LIVERPOOL PHILOMATHIC SOCIETY.

The Hon. J. Russell Lowell, formerly the United States representative at the Court of St. James, was the special guest on Wednesday night, November 23, 1888, at a banquet of the Liverpool Philomathic Society, held at the Adelphi Hotel, Liverpool. In response to the toast, “The Guest of the Evening,” Mr. Lowell, who met with a cordial reception, referred at the outset to what he termed a rather pathetic incident of his literary history. He said:

It is connected, with the first volume which introduced me to the English public. It was not the “Bigelow Papers” or “Biglow Papers”—I beg pardon—(laughter), but it was a little volume of rather immature poetry which some enthusiast on this side of the water reprinted privately. He was good enough to send me a copy. Perhaps it is known to you that we have a protective system. (Laughter.) The book was accordingly liable to duty as coming to its author, and for the information of whomsoever it might concern there had been written on the outside “Value 6d.” (Laughter.) I laid it to heart at once, and I said to myself, “Here is a piece of criticism you can appreciate, and which, perhaps, may do you a great deal of good.” (Laughter.)

As I was saying, I do not intend to make you any formal speech, and I should not have come here had it not been that I think it the duty of every man who can say anything that affects the people, whether by his pen or by his tongue, to go anywhere where expression is given to the friendly feeling which it is the desire of all wise and all honest men, I think, to deepen between the two countries which you and I represent. You have been good enough, Mr. President, also to refer to my career as a diplomatist in England, and you were quite right in saying that it was my endeavor to maintain those relations—those friendly relations—and I hope not without some success. (Cheers.) But I cannot listen to this compliment, I cannot accept it, without saying that I was followed by an American representative who has the same feeling, and who has represented America as ably in my judgment as she was ever represented in England. (Cheers.) That reminds me that we have been rather remarkably represented here in England. If you look over the list of our Ministers you will find that we have had three Adamses, one after the other, grandfather, father and son—one of the most really striking instances of heredity I know of (laughter); and the last Mr. Adams wore at the Court of Queen Victoria, as he told me, the regalia in which his grandfather was robed when he made his bow before George III. as the first American Minister in England, and was, I am bound to say, very civilly received by His Majesty. (Laughter.) Those are only three illustrations, but we have many others. We have had Galitz, for instance, a prominent American diplomatist—though he was not an American by birth, but was a naturalized Swiss.

There has been lately—I am not going to say a word about politics; I always rigidly avoid them—but I have seen a number of allusions in the newspapers lately to a certain tension, as the journalists like to call it, between the two countries. I cannot help thinking it is the result of a little irritation on both sides; but I have always felt that nothing was more foolish and that nothing ought to be more rigidly left to children than the “You’re another.” (Laughter and cheers.) Now, I dare say metaphysically, you are another; but there are occasions when the telling one that he is “another” is apt to have a disastrous effect, and I think we ought to avoid it. (Cheers.) When we look at the enormous extension of the race which speaks English (as we call it, for I am always desirous to avoid confining it to the English race, as we used to term it in our pride); when we consider this growth (though I do not quite agree with the figures of some of my friends, I do not believe we shall be a population of one hundred millions or two hundred millions so soon as is expected); when we consider this growth we find a remarkable fact, and one which no thoughtful man can help observing and reflecting upon. England is the greatest of colonizing races. This is a great distinction, and ennobles a nation. England has put a girdle of three prosperous and vigorous communities around the globe. Of course, it is not for me to say a word about Imperial federation. I am not sure Imperial federation would be a good thing. I am not sure, even if it were a good thing, it is not a dream. It is not for me to say; but it seems to me nobody who looks far can help seeing that the time may not be far distant when the good understanding among all these English-speaking people and their enormous resources may have great weight in deciding the destinies of mankind. (Cheers.) Now, I am one of those who believe that civilization and freedom are better married than divided, that they go better together. Nobody who has studied history would say they do not exist apart, but it is in divorce, and each is the worse for it. (Cheers.) The duty which has been laid upon the English-speaking races, so far as we can discover, has been to carry ever the great lessons of liberty combined with order. (Cheers.) That is the great secret of civilization. We may have our different laws and different forms of government; but so long as we sympathize with any idea that so far transcends all geographical boundaries and all municipal limits as that, I think you will agree with me that nothing can be more important than to preserve the friendliest relations between the two greatest representatives of this conquering and colonizing race. (Cheers.)

I did not intend to detain you so long as I have (cries of “Go on”), but I have also in my experience of after-dinner speeches observed that a speech is like an ill-broken horse; it is apt to take the bit between its teeth and to bolt at the most unexpected moment. A speaker frequently brings up, not where he intended to bring up, but where his steed chooses to land him. I suppose that before coming here I ought to have studied carefully the history of Liverpool, with which I ought to have appeared to have been familiar from my earliest childhood. (Laughter.) Unfortunately, there was no history of Liverpool in my friend Tom Brown’s library. (Laughter.) There were histories of inferior places—Chester, and so on—but no history of Liverpool; and I therefore cannot give you a great deal of information which I have no doubt would have been new and very interesting to you, and which would make the staple of a proper after-dinner speech. But there is one thing I remember about Liverpool. I have always felt a sort of literary gratitude to Liverpool, strange as you may think it. In my father’s library I remember very well three quarto volumes stood side by side more years ago than I like to say. Two of these volumes were “Lorenzo the Magnificent,” and the other was “Poggio Bracciolini.” I, of course, when I was a boy, did not know precisely the meaning of those books; but they did to a certain extent afford me an introduction to the “Renaissance in Italy.” I thought—but Sir James Picton corrects me—that it was Roscoe who translated the life of the second Lorenzo; but it was his son, I am informed, who translated another book which gave me my first acquaintance with the Italian Novelists, and which was a book which I remember buying when I was making a library of my own very early in life.

But to an American Liverpool generally represents the gate by which he enters the Old World; for as our ancestors went across West to find a new world there in that unexplored Atlantic, as they thought it might be, we go back Eastward to find our new world in the old—a new world of continental instruction and freshness. And I am glad, linked as we are in history and speaking, as I am given to understand, a language which at least can be understood the one by the other (laughter)—I am glad to find that my countrymen linger more and more in the land of their ancestors. Formerly Bristol was the great port through which intercourse with America was kept up, but now certainly Liverpool is one end of the three-thousand-mile loom on which the shuttles which are binding us all in visible ties more and more together are continually shooting to and fro. Liverpool is also the gate by which Americans leave the Old World to go home, and I am to a certain extent, as a person who crosses the seas not infrequently, interested in a discussion which I saw in the newspapers the other day as to the difficulties of embarcation at Liverpool. But I have encountered one which I did not expect, and that difficulty has been put in my way by the Philomathic Society. You have made it harder to get away from Liverpool than I should have expected or supposed, and I shall carry away with me when I go to-morrow the recollections of this pleasant meeting with you, of its cordiality, of the pleasant things that have been said to me, and that we often accept things that we do not deserve. (Laughter and cheers.)

✠

A Selection ...
... from the Publications of

Transcriber’s Note:

Two misspelled words were corrected.

*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AMERICAN IDEAS FOR ENGLISH READERS ***

Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will be renamed.

Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark license, especially commercial redistribution.

START: FULL LICENSE

THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE

PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK

To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work (or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at www.gutenberg.org/license.

Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property (trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.

1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below.

1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the United States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it without charge with others.

1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any country other than the United States.

1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:

1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, copied or distributed:

This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.

1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.

1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™.

1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project Gutenberg™ License.

1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website (www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.

1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.

1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided that:

- • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.”

- • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ works.

- • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of receipt of the work.

- • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.

1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.

1.F.

1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment.

1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGE.

1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further opportunities to fix the problem.

1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.

1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.

1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any Defect you cause.

Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™

Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from people in all walks of life.

Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org.

Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit 501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws.

The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact

Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation

Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status with the IRS.

The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate.

While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who approach us with offers to donate.

International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.

Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate.

Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works

Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.

Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.

Most people start at our website which has the main PG search facility: www.gutenberg.org.

This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.

Table of Contents

- American Ideas For English Readers.

- Contents.

- Introduction.

- American Ideas for English Readers.

- I.

- II.

- III.

- IV.

- V.

- VI.

- VII.

- VIII.

- IX.

- X.

- XI.

- Transcriber’s Note:

- THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE