this with Irving's gentle unprogressiveness. | Irving never went beyond the "Sketch Book;" his histories, though a higher order of writing, do not index any larger development. Again, compare it with the spectacle that Poe presents-mad rotations and fitful shocks of ecstatic power, a blinding whirlwind that dizzies and bewilders at first; but when we look again, at ease, and contemplate the entire outline left by the man and his works, we find only a ruined arch. In some sense, Poe had an intellectual struggle, a confused, half-maniacal brawl, with himself and with the world. This argues, at least, more momentum, whatever its effect, than the mild quiescence of the amiable Irving. Hawthorne, on the other hand, experienced a deep and enduring struggle worthy of his powers. But it was the peril and the pain of organic unfolding, not the anguish of an ill-governed egotism, and his exquisite character and genius met both bravely, grew stronger for the obstacles opposed to their advance, and finally triumphed. thought I had been exceedingly good-natured in my treatment of them." And so it appeared to most of his readers. But the general public would have been as startled as would the Salem citizens, if they could have known how deep was his disgust at the lack of sympathy there had always been between himself and his fellow-townsmen. Yet, patiently absorbing this bitter experience, he wrote late in life: "I am disposed to thank God for the gloom and chill of my early life, in the hope that my share of adversity came then, when I bore it alone." This want of sympathy had a practical side, also, as when various Salem people combined to get Hawthorne ousted from the surveyorship, and made representations for that end which he thought untrue. But, in practical affairs, his experiences were often rasping. Most of his earlier tales were written for little or no compensation. In 1836 he went to Boston to edit a magazine, and seems to have been cheated out of the most of his salary. It was at about this time that It is hard for persons of less acute power he was engaged by Mr. S. G. Goodrich to of feeling than his to conceive of the suffer- write either the whole or a large part ing which he drew from his long and lonely of the famous "Universal History" of youth in Salem. In vain to discuss the point Peter Parley, which brought him a hundred whether, had he modified his temperament dollars and sold by millions of copies for the and been less impressionable, he would not benefit of his employer. Later, when marhave come off more easily. In that case, ried and living at the Old Manse, he adhe would not have been Hawthorne. At vanced money to the " Democratic Review," this day, one hears little else than satisfac- and delayed collecting the price of sundry tion, in Salem, at the honor which his genius contributions until the concern failed, and has added to the place; but, half a century carried off both the loan and the value of his ago, at an epoch when prejudice was every- articles, irrecoverably. It is usually thought where more rife than now, it must have been that the Liverpool Consulate made a delightdifferent enough. Salem was secluded and ful and vastly lucrative episode in his life. stationary, and arrested thought is soon A shameful misinterpretation of his acceptslimed with gossip, as stagnant water gets cov- ance of it, however, was inflicted on him; ered with scum. There are two things which the emoluments of the office were shortly are offensive to the average mind: that suc- cut down by Congress; large drains were cess which outshines everybody, and that made on his private purse by unfortunate other successful development which with- fellow-countrymen; and his diligence in draws you from the prying eye of neighbors, office was sometimes questioned,—with the and lets you make of yourself something pos- greatest injustice, however, for he was a sibly better than they. And it was this latter most conscientious public servant, and went kind which made Hawthorne troublesome beyond the necessities of his position, to to the "practical" community around him. make sure. At no time, unless in Italy, was Nothing in his books betrays the prolonged he wholly free from the embarrassments of exasperation which he felt at the relations a small income. In addition to these more between himself and his townsfolk; but there sordid annoyances, there were many grievare glimpses of it in some of his letters, which ances that cannot be touched upon here. make one marvel at his self-restraint in not In short, he lived the checkered life of letting more of it appear in print. At last, most men who had their own way to make when a little gentle satire escaped him in in the world, and had to suffer misconstruc"The Custom-House," it awoke hot scandal tion which more politic men might have in the little city. "As to the Salem people," avoided, and less sensitive men would not he wrote to a friend in 1850, "I really have felt. But, with perfect supremacy, he saw that these things were not worthy to affect him in any visible way. He was rational, self-possessed, and simply manful. Not the less, to a person of his disposition and genius, such things made a constant warfare. It was a silent battle; all the more admirable the victory, then. He did not crudely call upon the world to be miserable because he suffered or was taken advantage of. But this silent battle speaks most powerfully throughout his works; this drama of interior development has issued in the visible action of creatures who take their places among the most dramatically conceived in fictitious writing. This is not the place for a complete survey of Hawthorne's genius, but we may draw some conclusions from our premises. So that, to sum up, we find Hawthorne taking the highest rank by virtue of his relation to the country, the largeness of his powerful individual development, his insight, and his dramatic feeling. If we pursue him through the delicate ramifications of literary art also, we find him unsurpassed among prosaists; and though there may be modes of expression, and more volatile movements of style, that we prefer, on occasion, to his, we must admit that no one outdoes him in perfection of deep texture. "I think we have no romancer but yourself, nor have had any for this long time," wrote Oliver Wendell Holmes to him in 1851. "The Yankee mind has for the most part budded and flowered in pots of English earth, but you have fairly raised yours as a seedling in the natural soil."* This is a generous statement of a large fact. But, now that we have before us the entire works of Hawthorne, we may add to this the opinionhardly a hazardous one-that he is as fresh and significant to the world at large as to America. As he asserted his own personality quietly, so does his influence spread in silence; but it is potent as it is subtle. purity and such profundity must work many revolutions, though noiseless ones. To us, Hawthorne seems perhaps the most eminently and deeply Christian of great fictionists, for he goes below all forms and shows, and bathes his mind in the clear and undivided current of the most humane of religions. Such * From a letter hitherto unpublished. Mr. Haw. thorne, however, paid Doctor Holmes's modesty the tribute of a lively interest in "Elsie Venner.' Among the last books he read was this, taken up for a second perusal. PARTING. "SO FAR-SO far!" Nay, Sweet! nor distant lands, Nor breadth of waters can avail to bar My love from thee. Alas! 'tis ever far, To yearning hearts, the smallest space that stands Beyond the compass of out-stretching hands; And never near, how close soe'er to each True lovers be, if kisses may not reach Across the distance. Since harsh Fate commands, Darling! farewell! With tearful eyes I go, Unknowing when the glad return shall be; But I will think, to mitigate my woe, How loving souls of time and tide are free; And oft to greet thee, dearest! mine, I know, Exultant will o'erleap the sundering sea! BEDS AND TABLES, STOOLS AND CANDLESTICKS. MANTEL-PIECES, CORNER CUPBOARDS, HANGING SHELVES, ETC. FAULT has been found, in the circle of readers who are interested in these papers, with the expensiveness of many of the things recommended; and many good-natured jests, and criticisms more or less acid, are tossed about on the want of consistency shown by the writer in preaching economy and simplicity, while he, at the same time, at once tempts and teases the people with short purses by showing them Mr. Lathrop's charming drawings of the prettiest and costliest furniture to be found. Now, while admitting that his critics have a show of reason in their charges, the writer pleads in extenuation that he is really misunderstood, and that he does not mean any harm! He stands by all he has said about economy and simplicity, and the possibility of making our houses attractive without, at the same time, making ourselves uncomfortable by spending more money than we can afford in furnishing and decorating. But when it comes to giving illustrations that will support his propositions, he is met by a difficulty. Many of the pieces of furniture that in design and purpose answer to his notions are, in fact, expensive pieces. He takes them where he finds them, and has them copied as faithfully as he can, and without any attempt to show them less elegant and costly No. I. than they really are. But whoever will be at the pains to look over the pictures in the articles thus far published will admit that, wherever the money goes to, it does not go to carving, and flourish, VOL. XI.-52. IV. and display for display's sake. Nor is it a fact that all the things shown are expensive, that is, compared with the prices that would be paid for fashionable pieces of furniture intended for the same uses. One may well despair of getting anything cheap when he finds that even chairs so ostentatiously bare and matter-of-fact as those made by the AN EVERY-DAY MANTEL-PIECE, SIMPLY TREATED. | Shakers, or the Vienna bent-wood chairs, cost as much as some to be found in the fashionable shops that make a good deal of show. People are slow to learn, it would seem, especially women, that the reverse of the rule which holds true of their dresses is true of most of the furniture called fashionable nowadays. In the case of their dresses, women know that the "trimming," the ornament, often costs more than the body of the dress, and the more elaborate the dress, the truer this proposition. But in our fashionable furniture the reverse is true. The main cost is in the wood and the labor; the ornament is almost always cheap. There was a little while ago quite a rage for a certain style of furniture that made a great display of seeming steel hinges, key-plates, and handles, with inlaid tiles, carving of an ultraGothic type, and an appearance of the most ingenuous truth-telling in the construction. The chairs, tables, and bedsteads looked as if they had been on the dissecting table and flayed alive, their joints and tendons displayed to an archæologic and unfeeling world. One particular firm introduced this style of furniture, and, for a time, had almost the monopoly of it. It had a great run, for the purchaser was made to feel that in buying it he got an immense deal more for his money than he could get in any other style of furniture. Perhaps in another shop he would have to pay as much for the same piece of furniture without the so-called ornament—as much, or more than he was asked to pay for the showy piece. And in nine cases out of ten the showy piece carried the day. The reason of the difference in cost would be found in the fact that the plain piece was well designed in the first place by an educated architect,-a man with notions of utility and with good taste,—and then was well made out of good material by a trained workman. The cost of the piece represented good stuff and skill in designer and in maker, but it did not represent sham of any kind. The piece would last a life-time, would always be a good servant or friend, and would improve in looks with time and use. showy piece would be designed, not for use, but to make a display, and all the ornament was contrived, like a player-queen's regalia, to get as much glitter and look of cost as tinsel and frippery can give. Now, in the writer's experience, it is the people who are taken in by this sort of thing, and who, to tell truth, like to be taken in by it, who complain of the cost of many of the things shown in the illustrations to these articles. They will have show and display if they can possibly get them, and if they cannot have real elegance, they will take sham elegance, and thank the gods there are places where people are not too nice to give it to them. The But he But, granted that many of the things pictured in these articles are costly, the reader is begged to notice that it is not their costliness that is brought to the fore by the writer, but the beauty of the design, or the utility of the things themselves. Their costliness is always kept out of sight, not "tortuously," as has been politely said, but really because the cost of these particular pieces was not our concern. The design is our concern, the usefulness of the object portrayed, its suitability to our needs. Take the table and chair figured in the article for January (No. 5), which one person singles out as being doubtless more expensive than they look. Why were these objects chosen as illustrations? Was it because they were costly? Most certainly not. The writer never asked what they cost, and does not know. does think them both extremely pretty, and he chose them to show his readers because he thought them so, and for no other reason. The chair cannot be more expensive than others of its now common family, and the table no more expensive than tables usually found in drawing-rooms. But, supposing them both to be as costly as the critic suggests, this consideration does not affect us, because their costliness is in their material,-in the wood the table is made of, in the stuff the chair is covered with. And it was not their material, but their forms, that was the subject of praise. If a person should take a fancy to either chair or table, and if he should find on inquiry that the cost, as the piece stands in the shop, was beyond his means, let him have the table made out of pine, and the chair covered with chintz; they will give a different pleasure from that they would have given in their original garment, but it will be a new pleasure as good as the old. The book-case which led off the illustration in the February SCRIBNER (No. 1) would be very little handsomer than it is if, instead of being made of plain pine, it were made of black walnut, or mahogany, or ebony. owner thinks it a very agreeable piece of furniture to look at, and finds it very convenient, both as a case for books and as a shelf. But he could only afford to have it made of pine, and he gets as much pleasure out of it, he thinks, as if, instead of costing fifty dollars, it had cost five hundred dollars, as it might easily have been made to. So, if he were bent on having the chair and table (No. 5 January SCRIBNER), and could not. afford ebonized walnut, with mahogany top and sides, for the table, he would have it Its made of pine, and have the chair covered with some one of the pretty chintzes or Algériennes that nowadays make us quite independent of stamped velvets and gilt leather. It seems to me that by showing many handsome things more may be done to educate people's taste than by deforming our page with ugly things. People are taught very little by warnings, either in morals or in art. Good example goes farther, and Mr. Ruskin has so much show of reason when he refuses to let his pupil see ugly should not be in haste to furnish all the rooms at once, but that they should take the matter easily, furnishing only the rooms they actually need. I cannot in conscience recommend the example of a couple I once heard of, who found themselves in Paris in possession of a pretty but unfurnished flat. Intending to remain in the city several years, they concluded to get only things that pleased them; and as there was not money enough to do this all at once, they secured the few absolutely essential pieces, and then looked for the rest. But the wife, things or read ugly books. It is wasted time, and only negative results can come from the contemplation of negation. The objects figured in these articles are, in the writer's esteem, beautiful, or handsome, or useful, and as such he shows them. The reader is asked to accept them as standards, and to use them as such in fitting up his own house, or in judging the way in which other people have fitted up theirs. A suggestion may be offered to young married people who find themselves in "a whole house," as the saying is, that they who lived to laugh at this afterward, always declared that for six months they sat on their two trunks, because her fastidious better-half couldn't find chairs he thought "the thing," while, as they had only a cup and saucer apiece, waiting till the right thing in ceramics turned up, they were obliged, having in an impulsive moment asked friends to tea, to go out and ransack the bric-a-brac shop for the old blue for that particular evening. I believe they enjoyed this way of getting to rights much more than if they had been what is called "better off," and could have |