Hewascharminglykind；heenteredwiththesweetestinterestintothestoryofmyeconomiclife，whichhadbeenfullofchangesandchancesalready。ButwhenIsaidveryseriouslythatnowIwastiredofthesefortuities，andwouldliketobesettledinsomething，heasked，withdancingeyes，\"Why，howoldareyou？\"
\"Iamtwenty—three，\"Ianswered，andthenthelaughingfittookhimagain。
\"Well，\"hesaid，\"youbeginyoung，outthere!\"
InmyheartIdidnotthinkthattwenty—threewassoveryyoung，butperhapsitwas；andifanyoneweretosaythatIhadbeenportrayinghereayouthwhoseaimswerecertainlybeyondhisachievements，whowasmorbidlysensitive，andifnotconceitedwasintolerablyconscious，whohadmetwithincrediblekindness，andhadsufferednomorethanwasgoodforhim，thoughhemightnothavemeritedhispainanymorethanhisjoy，IdonotknowthatIshouldgainsayhim，forIamnotatallsurethatI
wasnotjustthatkindofyouthwhenIpaidmyfirstvisittoNewEngland。
LITERARYFRIENDSANDACQUAINTANCES——FirstImpressionsofLiteraryNewYorkbyWilliamDeanHowellsFIRSTIMPRESSIONSOFLITERARYNEWYORK
ItwasbyboatthatIarrivedfromBoston，onanAugustmorningof1860，whichwasprobablyofthesamequalityasanAugustmorningof1900。
Iusednottomindtheweathermuchinthosedays；itwashotoritwascold，itwaswetoritwasdry，butitwasnotmyaffair；andIsupposethatIswelteredaboutthestrangecity，withnosenseofanythingverypersonalinthetemperature，untilnightfall。WhatIrememberisbeinghighupinahotellongsincelaidlow，listeninginthesummerdark，afterthelongdaywasdone，totheNiagararoaroftheomnibuseswhosetidethensweptBroadwayfromcurbtocurb，forallthemilesofitslength。Atthathourtheothercitynoiseswerestilled，orlostinthisvastervolumeofsound，whichseemedtofillthewholenight。IthadasolemnitywhichthemoderncomertoNewYorkwillhardlyimagine，forthattideofomnibuseshaslongsinceebbedaway，andhaslefttheairtothestridentdiscordsoftheelevatedtrainsandtheirregularalarumofthegrip—cargongs，whichblendtonosuchharmoniousthunderasrosefromtheprocessionofthoseponderousandinnumerablevans。Therewasasortofinnerquietinthesound，andwhenIchoseIsleptofftoit，andwoketoitinthemorningrefreshedandstrengthenedtoexploretheliterarysituationinthemetropolis。
I。
NotthatIthinkIleftthistothesecondday。VeryprobablyIlostnotimeingoingtotheofficeoftheSaturdayPress，assoonasIhadmybreakfastafterarriving，andIhaveadimimpressionofanticipatingtheearliestoftheBohemians，whosegaytheoryoflifeobligedthemtoagoodmanyhardshipsinlyingdownearlyinthemorning，andrisinguplateintheday。Ifitwastheoffice—boywhoboremecompanyduringthefirsthourofmyvisit，by—and—bytheeditorsandcontributorsactuallybegantocomein。IwouldnotbeveryspecificaboutthemifIcould，forsincethatBohemiahasfadedfromthemapoftherepublicofletters，ithasgrownmoreandmoredifficulttotraceitscitizenshiptoanycertainwriter。TherearesomelivingwhoknewtheBohemiansandevenlovedthem，butthereareincreasinglyfewwhowereofthem，eveninthefondretrospectofyouthfulfolliesanderrors。Itwasinfactbutasicklycolony，transplantedfromthemotherasphaltofParis，andneverreallystrikingrootinthepavementsofNewYork；itwasacolonyofideas，oftheories，whichhadperhapsneverhadanydeeprootanywhere。
Whattheseideas，thesetheories，wereinartandinlife，itwouldnotbeveryeasytosay；butintheSaturdayPresstheycametoviolentexpression，nottosayexplosion，againstallexistingformsofrespectability。Ifrespectabilitywasyour’betenoire’，thenyouwereaBohemian；andifyouwereinthehabitofrenderingyourselfinprose，thenyounecessarilyshreddedyourproseintoveryfineparagraphsofasentenceeach，orofaveryfewwords，orevenofoneword。Ibelievethisfashionprevailedtillverylatelywithsomeofthedramaticcritics，whothoughtthatitgaveaqualityofepigramtothestyle；andIsupposeitwasborrowedfromthemorespasmodicmomentsofVictorHugobytheeditorofthePress。HebroughtitbackwithhimwhenhecamehomefromoneofthosesojournsinPariswhichpossessoneoftheFrenchaccentratherthantheFrenchlanguage；Ilongdesiredtowriteinthatfashionmyself，butIhadnotthecourage。
Thiseditorwasamanofsuchopenandavowedcynicismthathemayhavebeen，forallIknow，akindlyoptimistatheart；somesay，however，thathehadreallytalkedhimselfintobeingwhatheseemed。Ionlyknowthathistalk，thefirstdayIsawhim，wasofsuchasortthatifhewashalfasbad，hewouldhavebeentoobadtobe。Hewalkedupanddownhisroomsayingwhatluridthingshewoulddirectlydoifanyoneaccusedhimofrespectability，sothathemightdisabusethemindsofallwitnesses。
Therewerefourorfiveofhisassistantsandcontributorslisteningtothedreadfulthreats，whichdidnotdeceiveevensogreatinnocenceasmine，butIdonotknowwhethertheyfounditthesorryfarcethatIdid。
TheyprobablyfeltthefascinationforhimwhichIcouldnotdisown，inspiteofmyinnerdisgust；andwerewatchfulatthesametimefortheeffectofhiswordswithonewhowasconfessedlyfreshfromBoston，andwasfullofdelightinthepeoplehehadseenthere。Itappeared，withhim，tobeproofoftheinferiorityofBostonthatifyoupasseddownWashingtonStreet，halfadozenmeninthecrowdwouldknowyouwereHolmes，orLowell，orLongfellow，orWendellPhillips；butinBroadwaynoonewouldknowwhoyouwere，orcaretothemeasureofhissmallestblasphemy。IhavesinceheardthismorethanonceurgedasasignaladvantageofNewYorkfortheaestheticinhabitant，butIamnotsure，yet，thatitisso。Theunrecognizedcelebrityprobablyhashismindquiteasmuchuponhimselfasifsomeonepointedhimout，andotherwiseIcannotthinkthatthesenseofneighborhoodissuchabadthingfortheartistinanysort。Itinvolvesthesenseofresponsibility，whichcannotbetooconstantortookeen。Ifitnarrows，itdeepens；andthismaybethesecretofBoston。
II。
ItwouldnotbeeasytosayjustwhytheBohemiangrouprepresentedNewYorkliteraturetomyimagination；forIcertainlyassociatedothernameswithitsbestwork，butperhapsitwasbecauseIhadwrittenfortheSaturdayPressmyself，andhadmyprideinit，andperhapsitwasbecausethatpaperreallyembodiedthenewliterarylifeofthecity。Itwasclever，andfullofthewitthattriesitsteethuponeverything。Itattackedallliteraryshamsbutitsown，anditmadeitselffeltandfeared。Theyoungwritersthroughoutthecountrywereambitioustobeseeninit，andtheygavetheirbesttoit；theygaveliterally，fortheSaturdayPressneverpaidinanythingbuthopesofpaying，vaguereventhanpromises。ItisnottoomuchtosaythatitwasverynearlyaswellforonetobeacceptedbythePressastobeacceptedbytheAtlantic，andforthetimetherewasnootherliterarycomparison。TobeinitwastobeinthecompanyofFitzJamesO’Brien，FitzhughLudlow，Mr。Aldrich，Mr。Stedman，andwhoeverelsewasliveliestinproseorloveliestinverseatthatdayinNewYork。Itwasapower，andalthoughitistruethat，asHenryGilessaidofit，\"Mancannotlivebysnapping—turtlealone，\"thePresswasverygoodsnapping—turtle。Or，itseemedsothen；
Ishouldbealmostafraidtotestitnow，forIdonotlikesnapping—
turtlesomuchasIoncedid，andIhavegrownnicerinmytaste，andwantmysnapping—turtleoftheverybest。WhatiscertainisthatIwenttotheofficeoftheSaturdayPressinNewYorkwithmuchthesamesortoffeelingIhadingoingtotheofficeoftheAtlanticMonthlyinBoston，butIcameawaywithaverydifferentfeeling。IhadfoundthereabitternessagainstBostonasgreatasthebitternessagainstrespectability，andasBostonwasthenrapidlybecomingmysecondcountry，IcouldnotjoininthescornthoughtofherandsaidofherbytheBohemians。Ifanciedaconspiracyamongthemtoshocktheliterarypilgrim，andtominifythepreciousemotionshehadexperiencedinvisitingothershrines；butIfoundnoharminthat，forIknewjusthowmuchtobeshocked，andIthoughtIknewbetterhowtovaluecertainthingsofthesoulthanthey。YetwhentheirchiefaskedmehowIgotonwithHawthorne，andIbegantosaythathewasveryshyandIwasrathershy，andthekingofBohemiatookhispipeouttobreakinuponmewith\"Oh，acoupleofshysters!\"andtherestlaughed，Iwasabashedalltheycouldhavewished，andwasnotrestoredtomyselftilloneofthemsaidthatthethoughtofBostonmadehimasuglyassin；thenIbegantohopeagainthatmenwhotookthemselvessoseriouslyasthatneednotbetakenveryseriouslybyme。
InfactIhadheardthingsalmostasdesperatelycynicalinothernewspaperofficesbeforethat，andIcouldnotseewhatwassodistinctivelyBohemianinthese’animeprave’，thesesoulssobalefulbytheirownshowing。ButapparentlyBohemiawasnotastatethatyoucouldwellimaginefromoneencounter，andsincemystayinNewYorkwastobeveryshort，Ilostnotimeinacquaintingmyselffurtherwithit。ThatverynightIwenttothebeer—cellar，onceveryfarupBroadway，whereI
wasgiventoknowthattheBohemiannightsweresmokedandquaffedaway。
Itwassaid，sofarWestasOhio，thatthequeenofBohemiasometimescametoPfaff’s：ayounggirlofasprightlygiftinletters，whosenameorpseudonymhadmadeitselfprettywellknownatthatday，andwhosefate，patheticatalltimes，out—tragediesalmostanyotherinthehistoryofletters。Shewasseizedwithhydrophobiafromthebiteofherdog，onarailroadtrain；andmadealongjourneyhomeintheparoxysmsofthatagonizingdisease，whichendedinherdeathaftershereachedNewYork。Butthiswasafterherreignhadended，andnosuchblackshadowwascastforwarduponPfaff’s，whosenameoftenfiguredintheverseandtheepigrammaticallyparagraphedproseofthe’SaturdayPress’。IfeltthatasacontributorandatleastabrevetBohemianIoughtnottogohomewithoutvisitingthefamousplace，andwitnessingifIcouldnotsharetherevelsofmycomrades。AsIneitherdrankbeernorsmoked，mypartinthecarousalwaslimitedtoaGermanpancake，whichIfoundtheyhadverygoodatPfaff’s，andtolisteningtothewhirlingwordsofmycommensals，atthelongboardspreadfortheBohemiansinacavernousspaceunderthepavement。Therewerewritersforthe’SaturdayPress’andforVanityFair（ahopefullycomicpaperofthatday），andsomeoftheartistswhodrewfortheillustratedperiodicals。Nothingoftheirtalkremainswithme，buttheimpressionremainsthatitwasnotsogoodtalkasIhadheardinBoston。Atonemomentoftheorgy，whichwentbutslowlyforanorgy，wewerejoinedbysomebelatedBohemianswhomtheothersmadeagreatclamorover；Iwasgiventounderstandtheywerejustrecoveredfromafearfuldebauch；theirlockswerestilldampfromthewettowelsusedtorestorethem，andtheireyeswereveryfrenzied。
Iwaspresentedtothesetypes，whoneithersaidnordidanythingworthyoftheirawfulappearance，butdroppedintoseatsatthetable，andateofthesupperwithanappetitethatseemedpoor。Istayedhopingvainlyforworsethingstilleleveno’clock，andthenIroseandtookmyleaveofaliteraryconditionthathaddistinctlydisappointedme。IdonotsaythatitmaynothavebeenwickederandwittierthanIfoundit；
IonlyreportwhatIsawandheardinBohemiaonmyfirstvisittoNewYork，andIknowthatmyacquaintancewithitwasnotexhaustive。WhenI
camethenextyeartheSaturdayPresswasnomore，andtheeditorandhiscontributorshadnolongeracommoncentre。ThebestoftheyoungfellowswhomImetthereconfessed，inapleasantexchangeofletterswhichwehadafterwards，thathethoughttheposeavainandunprofitableone；andwhenthePresswasrevived，afterthewar，itwaswithoutanyoftheoldBohemiancharacteristicsexceptthatofnotpayingformaterial。
Itcouldnotlastlongupontheseterms，andagainitpassedaway，andstillwaitsitssecondpalingenesis。
Theeditorpassedawaytoo，notlongafter，andthethingthathehadinspiredaltogetherceasedtobe。Hewasamanofacertainsardonicpower，anduseditratherfiercelyandfreely，withajoyprobablymoreapparentthanrealinthepainitgave。InmylastknowledgeofhimhewasmuchmilderthanwhenIfirstknewhim，andIhavethefeelingthathetoocametoownbeforehediedthatmancannotlivebysnapping—turtlealone。Hewaskindtosomeneglectedtalents，andbefriendedthemwithavigorandazealwhichhewouldhavebeenthelasttoletyoucallgenerous。ThechiefofthesewasWaltWhitman，who，whentheSaturdayPresstookitup，hadashopelessacausewiththecriticsoneithersideoftheoceanasanymancouldhave。ItwasnottilllongafterwardsthathisEnglishadmirersbegantodiscoverhim，andtomakehiscountrymensomenoisyreproachesforignoringhim；theywerewhollyinthedarkconcerninghimwhentheSaturdayPress，whichfirststoodhisfriend，andtheyoungmenwhomthePressgatheredaboutit，madehimtheircult。
Nodoubthewasmorevaluedbecausehewassooffensiveinsomewaysthanhewouldhavebeenifhehadbeeninnowayoffensive，butitremainsafactthattheycelebratedhimquiteasmuchaswasgoodforthem。HewasoftenatPfaff’swiththem，andthenightofmyvisithewasthechieffactofmyexperience。IdidnotknowhewastheretillIwasonmywayout，forhedidnotsitatthetableunderthepavement，butattheheadofonefartherintotheroom。There，asIpassed，somefriendlyfellowstoppedmeandnamedmetohim，andIrememberhowheleanedbackinhischair，andreachedouthisgreathandtome，asifheweregoingtogiveitmeforgoodandall。Hehadafinehead，withacloudofJovianhairuponit，andabranchingbeardandmustache，andgentleeyesthatlookedmostkindlyintomine，andseemedtowishthelikingwhichIinstantlygavehim，thoughwehardlypassedaword，andouracquaintancewassummedupinthatglanceandthegraspofhismightyfistuponmyhand。IdoubtifhehadanynotionwhoorwhatIwasbeyondthefactthatIwasayoungpoetofsomesort，buthemaypossiblyhaverememberedseeingmynameprintedaftersomeveryHeinesqueversesinthePress。Ididnotmeethimagainfortwentyyears，andthenIhadonlyamomentwithhimwhenhewasreadingtheproofsofhispoemsinBoston。SomeyearslaterIsawhimforthelasttime，onedayafterhislectureonLincoln，inthatcity，whenhecamedownfromtheplatformtospeakwithsomehandshakingfriendswhogatheredabouthim。Thenandalwayshegavemethesenseofasweetandtruesoul，andIfeltinhimaspiritualdignitywhichIwillnottrytoreconcilewithhisprintingintheforefrontofhisbookapassagefromaprivateletterofEmerson’s，thoughIbelievehewouldnothaveseensuchathingasmostothermenwould，orthoughtillofitinanother。ThespiritualpuritywhichIfeltinhimnolessthanthedignityissomethingthatIwillnomoretrytoreconcilewithwhatdeniesitinhispage；butsuchthingswemaywellleavetotheadjustmentoffinerbalancesthanwehaveathand。Iwillmakesureonlyofthegreatestbenignityinthepresenceoftheman。Theapostleoftherough，theuncouth，wasthegentlestperson；hisbarbaricyawp，translatedintothetermsofsocialencounter，wasanaddressofsingularquiet，deliveredinavoiceofwinningandendearingfriendliness。
Astohisworkitself，IsupposethatIdonotthinkitsovaluableineffectasinintention。Hewasaliberatingforce，avery\"imperialanarch\"inliterature；butlibertyisneveranythingbutameans，andwhatWhitmanachievedwasameansandnotanend，inwhatmustbecalledhisverse。Ilikehisprose，ifthereisadifference，muchbetter；
thereheisofagenialandcomfortingquality，veryrichandcordial，suchasIfelthimtobewhenImethiminperson。Hisverseseemstomenotpoetry，butthematerialsofpoetry，likeone’semotions；yetIwouldnotmisprizeit，andIamgladtoownthatIhavehadmomentsofgreatpleasureinit。SomeFrenchcriticquotedintheSaturdayPress（I
cannotthinkofhisname）saidthebestthingofhimwhenhesaidthathemadeyouapartneroftheenterprise，forthatispreciselywhathedoes，andthatiswhatalienatesandwhatendearsinhim，asyoulikeordislikethepartnership。Itisstillsomethingneighborly，brotherly，fatherly，andsoIfelthimtobewhenthebenignoldmanlookedonmeandspoketome。
III。
ThatnightatPfaff’smusthavebeenthelastoftheBohemiansforme，anditwasthelastofNewYorkauthorshiptoo，forthetime。IdonotknowwhyIshouldnothaveimaginedtryingtoseeCurtis，whomIknewsomuchbyheart，andwhomIadored，butImaynothavehadthecourage，orImayhaveheardthathewasoutoftown；Bryant，Ibelieve，wasthenoutofthecountry；butatanyrateIdidnotattempthimeither。TheBohemianswerethebeginningandtheendofthestoryforme，andtotellthetruthIdidnotlikethestory……IrememberthatasIsatatthattable。underthepavement，inPfaff’sbeer—cellar，andlistenedtothewitthatdidnotseemveryfunny，IthoughtofthedinnerwithLowell，thebreakfastwithFields，thesupperattheAutocrat’s，andfeltthatI
hadfallenveryfar。Infactitcandonoharmatthisdistanceoftimetoconfessthatitseemedtomethen，andforagoodwhileafterwards，thatapersonwhohadseenthemenandhadthethingssaidbeforehimthatIhadinBoston，couldnotkeephimselftoocarefullyincotton；andthiswaswhatIdidallthefollowingwinter，thoughofcourseitwasasecretbetweenmeandme。IdaresayitwasnottheworstthingIcouldhavedone，insomerespects。
MysojourninNewYorkcouldnothavebeenverylong，andtherestofitwasmainlygiventoviewingthemonumentsofthecityfromthewindowsofomnibusesandtheplatformsofhorse—cars。Theworldwassosimplethenthattherewereperhapsonlyahalf—dozencitiesthathadhorse—carsinthem，andItravelledinthoseconveyancesatNewYorkwithanunfadedzest，evenaftermyjourneysbackandforthbetweenBostonandCambridge。
IhavenottheleastnotionwhereIwentorwhatIsaw，butIsupposethatitwasupanddowntheuglyeastandwestavenues，thenlyingopentotheeyeinallthehideousnessnowpartlyconcealedbytheelevatedroads，andthatIfoundthemverystatelyandhandsome。Indeed，NewYorkwasreallyhandsomerthenthanitisnow，whenithassomanymorepiecesofbeautifularchitecture，foratthatdaytheskyscraperswerenotyet，andtherewasafineregularityinthestreetsthatthesebrutebulkshaverobbedofallshapeliness。Dirtandsqualortherewereaplenty，buttherewasinfinitelymorecomfort。Thelongsuccessionofcrossstreetswasyetmostlysecurefrombusiness，afteryoupassedClintonPlace；commercewasjustbeginningtoshowitselfinUnionSquare，andMadisonSquarewasstillthehomeoftheMcFlimsies，whosekinandkinddweltunmolestedinthebrownstonestretchesofFifthAvenue。ItriedhardtoimaginethemfromtheacquaintanceMr。Butler’spoemhadgivenme，andfromtheknowledgethegentlesatireofThe’PotipharPapers’hadspreadbroadcastthroughacommunityshockedbytheexcessesofourbestsociety；itwasnothalfsobadthenasthebestnow，probably。ButIdonotthinkImadeverymuchofit，perhapsbecausemostofthepeoplewhooughttohavebeeninthosefinemansionswereawayattheseasideandthemountains。
ThemountainsIhadseenonmywaydownfromCanada，butthesea—sidenot，anditwouldneverdotogohomewithoutvisitingsomefamoussummerresort。ImusthavefixeduponLongBranchbecauseImusthaveheardofitasthenthemostfashionable；andoneafternoonItooktheboatforthatplace。BythismeansInotonlysawsea—bathingforthefirsttime，butIsawastormatsea：asquallstruckussosuddenlythatitblewawayallthecamp—stoolsoftheforwardpromenade；itwasveryexciting，andIlongmeanttouseinliteraturetheblackwallofcloudthatsettledonthewaterbeforeuslikeasortofportablemidnight；Inowthrowitawayuponthereader，asitwere；itneverwouldcomeinanywhere。IstayedallnightatLongBranch，andIhadabaththenextmorningbeforebreakfast：anextremelycoldone，withalife—linetokeepmeagainsttheundertow。InthisriteIhadthecompanyofayoungNew—
Yorker，whomIhadmetontheboatcomingdown，andwhowasofthelight，hopeful，adventurousbusinesstypewhichseemspeculiartothecity，andwhichhasalwaysattractedme。Hetoldmemuchabouthislife，andhowhelived，andwhatitcosthimtolive。Hehadalargeroomatafashionableboardinghouse，andhepaidfourteendollarsaweek。
InColumbusIhadsucharoomatsuchahouse，andpaidthreeandahalf，andIthoughtitagooddeal。Butthosewerethedaysbeforethewar，whenAmericawasthecheapestcountryintheworld，andtheWestwasincrediblyinexpensive。
Afteradayoflonelysplendoratthissceneoffashionandgaiety，IwentbacktoNewYork，andtooktheboatforAlbanyonmywayhome。
InotedthatIhadnolongerthevividinterestinnatureandhumannaturewhichIhadfeltinsettingoutuponmytravels，andIsaidtomyselfthatthiswasfromhavingamindsocrowdedwithexperiencesandimpressionsthatitcouldreceivenomore；andIreallysupposethatifthehappiestphrasehadoffereditselftomeatsomemoments，Ishouldscarcelyhavelookedaboutmeforalandscapeorafiguretofititto。
IwasverygladtogetbacktomydearlittlecityintheWest（IfounditseethinginanAugustsunthatwashotenoughtohavecalcinedthelimestoneStateHouse），andtoallthefriendsIwassofondof。
IV。
IdidwhatIcouldtoprovemyselfunworthyofthembyrefusingtheirinvitations，andgivingmyselfwhollytoliterature，duringtheearlypartofthewinterthatfollowed；andIdidnotrealizemyerrortilltheinvitationsceasedtocome，andIfoundmyselfinanunbrokenintellectualsolitude。TheworstofitwasthatanungratefulMusedidlittleinreturnforthesacrificesImadeher，andthethingsInowwrotewerenotlikedbytheeditorsIsentthemto。Theeditorialtasteisnotalwaysthetestofmerit，butitistheonlyonewehave，andIamnotsayingtheeditorswerewronginmycase。Therewerethensuchaveryfewplaceswhereyoucouldmarketyourwork：theAtlanticinBostonandHarper’sinNewYorkwerethemagazinesthatpaid，thoughtheIndependentnewspaperboughtliterarymaterial；theSaturdayPressprinteditwithoutbuying，andsodidtheoldKnickerbockerMagazine，thoughtherewaspecuniarygood—willinboththesecases。ItoiledmuchthatwinteroverastoryIhadlongbeenwriting，andatlastsentittotheAtlantic，whichhadpublishedfivepoemsformetheyearbefore。
Aftersomeweeks，oritmayhavebeenmonths，IgotitbackwithanotesayingthattheeditorshadthelessregretinreturningitbecausetheysawthatintheMaynumberoftheKnickerbockerthefirstchapterofthestoryhadappeared。ThenIrememberedthat，yearsbefore，Ihadsentthischaptertothatmagazine，asasketchtobeprintedbyitself，andafterwardshadcontinuedthestoryfromit。Ihadneverheardofitsacceptance，andsupposedofcoursethatitwasrejected；butonmysecondvisittoNewYorkIcalledattheKnickerbockeroffice，andaneweditor，ofthosethatthemagazinewasalwayshavinginthedaysofitsfailingfortunes，toldmethathehadfoundmysketchinrummagingaboutinabarrelofhispredecessorsmanuscripts，andhadlikedit，andprintedit。Hesaidthattherewerefifteendollarscomingtomeforthatsketch，andmighthesendthemoneytome？Isaidthathemight，thoughIdonotsee，tothisday，whyhedidnotgiveitmeonthespot；andhemadeaverysmallminuteinaverylargesheetofpaper（reallylikeDickSwiveller），andpromisedIshouldhaveitthatnight；butIsailedthenextdayforLiverpoolwithoutit。IsailedwithoutthemoneyforsomeversesthatVanityFairboughtofme，butIhardlyexpectedthat，fortheeditor，whowasthenArtemusWard，hadfranklytoldmeintakingmyaddressthatducatswerefewatthatmomentwithVanityFair。
IwasthenonmywaytobeconsulatVenice，whereIspentthenextfouryearsinavigilanceforConfederateprivateerswhichnoneofthemeversurprised。IhadaskedfortheconsulateatMunich，whereIhopedtosteepmyselfyetlongerinGermanpoetry，butwhenmyappointmentcame，IfounditwasforRome。IwasverygladtogetRomeeven；buttheincomeoftheofficewasinfees，andIthoughtIhadbettergoontoWashingtonandfindouthowmuchthefeesamountedto。PeopleinColumbuswhohadbeenabroadsaidthatonfivehundreddollarsyoucouldliveinRomelikeaprince，butIdoubtedthis；andwhenIlearnedattheStateDepartmentthatthefeesoftheRomanconsulatecametoonlythreehundred，IperceivedthatIcouldnotlivebetterthanabaron，probably，andIdespaired。ThekindlychiefoftheconsularbureausaidthatthePresident’ssecretaries，Mr。JohnNicolayandMr。JohnHay，wereinterestedinmyappointment，andheadvisedmygoingovertotheWhiteHouseandseeingthem。Ilostnotimeindoingthat，andIlearnedthatasyoungWesternmentheywereinterestedinmebecauseIwasayoungWesternmanwhohaddonesomethinginliterature，andtheywerewillingtohelpmeforthatreason，andfornootherthatIeverknew。TheyproposedmygoingtoVenice；thesalarywasthensevenhundredandfifty，buttheythoughttheycouldgetitputuptoathousand。Intheendtheygotitputuptofifteenhundred，andsoIwenttoVenice，whereifIdidnotlivelikeaprinceonthatincome，IlivedagooddealmorelikeaprincethanIcouldhavedoneatRomeonafifthofit。
Iftheappointmentwasnotpresentfortune，itwasthebeginningofthebestluckIhavehadintheworld，andIamgladtooweitalltothosefriendsofmyverse，whocouldhavebeennootherwisefriendsofme。
Theywerethenbeginningveryearlycareersofdistinctionwhichhavenotbeenwhollydivided。Mr。Nicolaycouldhavebeenabouttwenty—five，andMr。Haynineteenortwenty。Noonedreamedasyetoftheopportunityopeningtotheminbeingsoconstantlynearthemanwhoselifetheyhavewritten，andwithwhosefametheyhaveimperishablyinterwroughttheirnames。Irememberthesobereddignityoftheone，andthehumorousgaietyoftheother，andhowwehadsomeyoungmen’sjokingandlaughingtogether，intheanteroomwheretheyreceivedme，withthegreatsoulenteringuponitstravailbeyondthecloseddoor。TheyaskedmeifIhadeverseenthePresident，andIsaidthatIhadseenhimatColumbus，theyearbefore；butIcouldnotsayhowmuchIshouldliketoseehimagain，andthankhimforthefavorwhichIhadnoclaimtoathishands，exceptsuchastheslightcampaignbiographyIhadwrittencouldbethoughttohavegivenme。Thatdayoranother，asIleftmyfriends，Imethiminthecorridorwithout，andhelookedatthespaceIwaspartofwithhisineffablymelancholyeyes，withoutknowingthatIwastheindistinguishablepersoninwhose\"integrityandabilitieshehadreposedsuchspecialconfidence\"astohaveappointedhimconsulforVeniceandtheportsoftheLombardo—VenetianKingdom，thoughhemighthaverecognizedthetermsofmycommissionifIhadremindedhimofthem。
Ifalteredamomentinmylongingtoaddresshim，andthenIdecidedthateveryonewhoforeboretospeakneedlesslytohim，ortoshakehishand，didhimakindness；andIwishIcouldbeassureofthewisdomofallmypastbehaviorasIamofthatpieceofit。Hewalkeduptothewatercoolerthatstoodinthecorner，anddrewhimselfafullgobletfromit，whichhepoureddownhisthroatwithabackwardtiltofhishead，andthenwentwearilywithindoors。Thewholeaffair，sosimple，hasalwaysremainedoneofacertainpathosinmymemory，andIwouldratherhaveseenLincolninthatunconsciousmomentthanonsomestatelieroccasion。
V。
IwenthometoOhio；andsentonthebondIwastofileintheTreasuryDepartment；butitwasmislaidthere，andtopreventanotherchanceofthatkindIcarriedontheduplicatemyself。ItwasonmysecondvisitthatImetthegenerousyoungIrishmanWilliamD。O’Connor，atthehouseofmyfriendPiatt，andheardhisardenttalk。Hewasoneofthepromisingmenofthatday，andhehadwrittenananti—slaverynovelintheheroicmoodofVictorHugo，whichgreatlytookmyfancy；andI
believehewrotepoemstoo。HehadnotyetrisentobethechiefofWaltWhitman’schampionsoutsideoftheSaturdayPress，buthehadalreadyespousedthetheoryofBacon’sauthorshipofShakespeare，thennewlyexploitedbythepoorladyofBacon’sname，whodiedconstanttoitinaninsaneasylum。Heusedtospeakofthereputeddramatistas\"thefatpeasantofStratford，\"andhewasotherwisepicturesqueofspeechinameasurethatconsoled，ifitdidnotconvince。Thegreatwarwasthenfulluponus，andwheninthesilencesofourliterarytalkitsawfulbreathwasheard，anditsshadowfelluponthehearthwherewegatheredroundthefirstfiresofautumn，O’Connorwouldlifthisbeautifulheadwithafineeffectofprophecy，andsay，\"Friends，Ifeelasenseofvictoryintheair。\"Hewasnotwrong；onlythevictorywasfortheotheraide。
WhobesideO’ConnorsharedinthesesaddenedsymposiumsIcannottellnow；butprobablyotheryoungjournalistsandoffice—holders，intendinglitterateurs，sincemoreorlessextinct。ImakecertainonlyoftheyoungBostonpublisherwhoissuedaveryhandsomeeditionof’LeavesofGrass’，andthenfailedpromptlyifnotconsequently。ButIhadalreadymet，inmyfirstsojournatthecapital，ayoungjournalistwhohadgivenhostagestopoetry，andwhomIwasverygladtoseeandproudtoknow。
Mr。StedmanandIweretalkingoverthatmeetingtheotherday，andIcanbesurerthanImighthavebeenwithouthismemory，thatIfoundhimatafriend’shouse，wherehewasnursinghimselfforsomeslightsickness，andthatIsatbyhisbedwhileoursoulslaunchedtogetherintothejoyfulrealmsofhopeandpraise。InhimIfoundthequalityofBoston，thehonorandpassionofliterature，andnotamereposeoftheliterarylife；andtheworldknowswithoutmytellinghowtruehehasbeentohisidealofit。HisearthlymissionthenwastowritelettersfromWashingtonfortheNewYorkWorld，whichstartedinlifeasagoodyoungeveningpaper，withadecidedreligioustone，sothattheSaturdayPresscouldcallittheNight—bloomingSerious。IthinkMr。Stedmanwroteforitseditorialpageattimes，andhisrelationtoitasaWashingtoncorrespondenthadanauthoritywhichiswantingtothefunctioninthesedaysofperfectedtelegraphing。HehadnotyetachievedthatseatintheStockExchangewhosepossessionhasjustifiedhisrecoursetobusiness，andhashelpedhimtomeansomethingmoresingleinliteraturethanmanymoresinglydevotedtoit。Iusedsometimestospeakaboutthatwithanothereageryoungauthorincertainmiddleyearswhenwewerechafingineditorialharness，andwealwaysdecidedthatStedmanhadthebestofitinbeingabletoearnhislivinginasortsoalientoliteraturethathecouldcometoitunjaded，andwithagustunspoiledbykindredsavors。
Butnomanshapeshisownlife，andIdaresaythatStedmanmayhavebeenallthetimeenvyingusourtripodsfromhishighplaceintheStockExchange。WhatiscertainisthathehascometostandforliteratureandtoembodyNewYorkinitasnooneelsedoes。Inacommunitywhichseemsnevertohavehadaconsciousrelationtoletters，hehaskeptthefaithwithdignityandfoughtthefightwithconstantcourage。Scholarandpoetatonce，hehasspokentohisgenerationwithauthoritywhichwecanforgetonlyinthecharmwhichmakesusforgeteverythingelse。
Buthisfamewasstillbeforehimwhenwemet，andIcouldbringtohimanadmirationforworkwhichhadnotyetmadeitselfknowntosomany；
butanyadmirerwaswelcome。Wetalkedofwhatwehaddone，andeachsaidhowmuchhelikedcertainthingoftheother’s；IevenseizedmyadvantageofhishelplessnesstoreadhimapoemofminewhichIhadinmypocket；headvisedmewheretoplaceit；andifthereaderwillnotthinkitanunfairdigression，Iwilltellherewhatbecameofthatpoem，forIthinkitsvariedfortuneswereamusing，andIhopemyownsufferingsandfinaltriumphwithitwillnotbewithoutencouragementtotheyoungliteraryendeavorer。Itwasapoemcalled，withnopropheticsenseoffitness，\"Forlorn，\"andItrieditfirstwiththe’AtlanticMonthly’，whichwouldnothaveit。ThenIoffereditinpersontoaformereditorof’Harper’sMonthly’，buthecouldnotseehisadvantageinit，andIcarrieditoverseastoVenicewithme。FromthatpointI
sentittoalltheEnglishmagazinesassteadilyasthepostcouldcarryitawayandbringitback。Onmywayhome，fouryearslater，ItookittoLondonwithme，whereafriendwhoknewLewes，thenjustbeginningwiththe’FortnightlyReview’，sentittohimforme。Itwaspromptlyreturned，withaletterwhollyreservedastoitsquality，butfullofapoeticgratitudeformywishtocontributetotheFortnightly。ThenI
heardthatacertainMr。Lucaswasabouttostartamagazine，andI
offeredthepoemtohim。ThekindestletterofacceptancefollowedmetoAmerica，andIcounteduponfameandfortuneasusual，whenthenewsofMr。Lucas’sdeathcame。Iwillnotpoorlyjokeaneffectfrommypoeminthefact；butthefactremains。BythistimeIwasawriterintheofficeofthe’Nation’newspaper，andafterIleftthisplacetobeMr。
Fields’sassistantontheAtlantic，IsentmypoemtotheNation，whereitwasprintedatlast。Insuchscantmeasureasmyverseshavepleasedithasfoundratherunusualfavor，andIneednotsaythatitsmisfortunesendearedittoitsauthor。
ButallthisisratherfarawayfrommyfirstmeetingwithStedmaninWashington。OfcourseIlikedhim，andIthoughthimveryhandsomeandfine，withafullbeardcutinthefashionhehasalwayswornit，andwithpoet’seyeslightinganaquilineprofile。Afterwards，whenIsawhimafoot，Ifoundhimofaworldlysplendorindress，andenviedhim，asmuchasIcouldenvyhimanything，theNewYorktailorwhosearthadclothedhim：IhadaNewYorktailortoo，butwithadifference。Hehadaworldlydashalongwithhissupermundanegifts，whichtookmealmostasmuch，andallthemorebecauseIcouldseethathevaluedhimselfnothinguponit。Hewasallforliterature，andforliterarymenasthesuperiorsofeveryone。Imusthaveopenedmyhearttohimagooddeal，forwhenItoldhimhowthenewspaperIhadwrittenforfromCanadaandNewEnglandhadceasedtoprintmyletters，hesaid，\"Thinkofamanlikesittinginjudgmentonamanlikeyou!\"Ithoughtofit，andwasavengedifnotcomforted；andatanyrateIlikedStedman’sstandingupsostifflyforthehonorofacraftthatisrathertoolimpinsomeofitsvotaries。
IsupposeitwashewhointroducedmetotheStoddards，whomImetinNewYorkjustbeforeIsailed，andwhowerethenintheglowoftheirearlyfameaspoets。Theyknewaboutmypoorbeginnings，andtheywerevery，verygoodtome。StoddardwentwithmetoFranklinSquare，andgavethesanctionofhispresencetotheineffectualofferofmypoemthere。
ButwhatIrelishedmostwasthelongtalksIhadwiththembothaboutauthorshipinallitsphases，andtheexchangeofdelightinthispoemandthat，thisnovelandthat，withgay，wilfulrunsawaytomakesomewhollyirrelevantjoke，orfirepunsintotheairatnomarkwhatever。
Stoddardhadthenafame，withthesweetnessofpersonalaffectioninit，fromthelyricsandtheodesthatwillperhapsbestkeephimknown，andMrs。Stoddardwasbeginningtomakeherdistinctandspecialqualityfeltinthemagazines，inverseandfiction。Inbothitseemstomethatshehasfailedoftherecognitionwhichherworkmerits。Hertalesandnovelshaveinthemaforetasteofrealism，whichwastoostrangeforthepalateoftheirday，andisnowtoofamiliar，perhaps。Itisapeculiarfate，andwouldformtheschemeofaprettystudyinthehistoryofliterature。Butinwhatevershedidsheleftthestampofatalentlikenoother，andofapersonalitydisdainfulofliteraryenvironment。InatimewhenmostofushadtowritelikeTennyson，orLongfellow，orBrowning，sheneverwouldwritelikeanyonebutherself。
IrememberverywellthelodgingoveracornerofFourthAvenueandsomedowntownstreetwhereIvisitedthesewinningandgiftedpeople，andtastedthepleasureoftheirracytalk，andthehospitalityoftheirgood—willtowardallliterature，whichcertainlydidnotleavemeout。
WesatbeforetheirgrateinthechillofthelastOctoberdays，andtheyseteachotherontoonewildflightofwitafteranother，andagainI
bathedmydelightedspiritintheatmosphereofarealmwhereforthetimeatleastno\"————rumorofoppressionordefeat，Ofunsuccessfulorsuccessfulwar，\"
couldpenetrate。IlikedtheStoddardsbecausetheywerefranklynotofthatBohemiawhichIdislikedsomuch，andthoughtitofnopromiseorvalidity；andbecauseIwasfondoftheirpoetryandfoundtheminit。
Ilikedtheabsolutelyliterarykeepingoftheirlives。Hehadthen，andforlongafter，aplaceintheCustomhouse，buthewasnomoreofthatthanLambwasofIndiaHouse。Hebelongedtothatbetterworldwherethereisnointerestbutletters，andwhichwasasmuchlikeheavenformeasanythingIcouldthinkof。
ThemeetingswiththeStoddardsrepeatedthemselveswhenIcamebacktosailfromNewYork，earlyinNovember。Mixedupwiththecordialpleasureoftheminmymemoryisasenseofthecoldandwetoutdoors，andthemiseryofbeinginthoseinfamousNewYorkstreets，thenasforlongafterwardsthesqualidestintheworld。ThelastnightIsawmyfriendstheytoldmeofthetragedywhichhadjusthappenedatthecampintheCityHallPark。FitzJamesO’Brien，thebrilliantyoungIrishmanwhohaddazzleduswithhisstoryof\"TheDiamondLens，\"andfrozenourbloodwithhisingenioustaleofaghost——\"WhatwasIt\"——aghostthatcouldbefeltandheard，butnotseen——hadenlistedforthewar，andrisentobeanofficerwiththeswiftprocessofthefirstdaysofit。
Inthatcamphehadjustthenshotandkilledamanforsomeinfractionofdiscipline，anditwasuncertainwhattheendwouldbe。Hewasacquitted，however，anditisknownhowheafterwardsdiedoflockjawfromawoundreceivedinbattle。
VI。
BeforethislastvisitinNewYorktherewasasecondvisittoBoston，whichIneednotdwellupon，becauseitwaschieflyarevivaloftheimpressionsofthefirst。AgainIsawtheFieldsesintheirhome；againtheAutocratinhis，andLowellnowbeneathhisownroof，besidethestudyfirewhereIwassooftentositwithhimincomingyears。Atdinner（whichwehadattwoo’clock）thetalkturneduponmyappointment，andhesaidofmetohiswife：\"ThinkofhishavinggotStillman’splace!
Weoughttoputpoisoninhiswine，\"andhetoldmeofthewishthepainterhadtogotoVeniceandfollowupRuskin’sworkthereinabookofhisown。Buthewouldnotletmefeelveryguilty，andIwillnotpretendthatIhadanypersonalregretformygoodfortune。
TheplacewasgivenmeperhapsbecauseIhadnotnearlysomanyothergiftsashewholostit，andwhowasatonceartist，critic，journalist，traveller，andeminentlyeach。ImethimafterwardsinRome，whichthepowersbestoweduponhiminsteadofVenice，andheforgaveme，thoughI
donotknowwhetherheforgavethepowers。WewalkedfarandlongovertheCampagna，andIfeltthecharmofamostuncommonmindintalkwhichcameoutrichestandfullestinthepresenceofthewildnaturewhichhelovedandknewsomuchbetterthanmostothermen。IthinkthatthebookhewouldhavewrittenaboutVeniceisforevertoberegretted，andIdonotatallconsolemyselfforitslosswiththebookIhavewrittenmyself。
AtLowell’stablethatdaytheyspokeofwhatsortofwinterIshouldfindinVenice，andheinclinedtothebeliefthatIshouldwantafirethere。Onhisstudyhearthaverybriskoneburnedwhenwewentbacktoit，andkeptoutthechillofacoldeasterlystorm。Welookedthroughoneofthewindowsattherain，andhesaidhecouldrememberstandingandlookingoutofthatwindowatsuchastormwhenhewasachild；forhewasborninthathouse，andhislifehadkeptcomingbacktoit。Hediedinit，atlast。
Inaliftingoftherainhewalkedwithmedowntothevillage，ashealwayscalledthedenserpartofthetownaboutHarvardSquare，andsawmeaboardahorse—carforBoston。Beforewepartedhegavemetwocharges：toopenmymouthwhenIbegantospeakItalian，andtothinkwellofwomen。Hesaidthatourracespokeitsowntonguewithitsteethshut，andsofailedtomasterthelanguagesthatwantedfreerutterance。
Astowomen，hesaidtherewereunworthyones，butagoodwomanwasthebestthingintheworld，andamanwasalwaysthebetterforhonoringwomen。