THE INFLUENCE OF EUROPEAN TRAVEL ON THE POLITICAL AND SOCIAL OUTLOOK OF HENRY AD JOS, WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS, AND MARK TWAIN

DISSERTATION

Presented In Partial Fulfillment of the Requirements for the Degree Dootor of Philosophy1 in the Graduate Sohool of The Ohio State University

By

AUGUST LYNN ALTENBERND, B. S. in Bdu.„ M. A.

The Ohio State University 1954

Approved byt

_ TABLE OF CONTENTS

CHAPTER Page

I THE TRADITION OF AMERICAN TRAVEL WRITING, 1800-1865...... 1

II ADAMS, HO •YELLS, AND TWAIN AT HOME...... 11

III FIRST JOURNEYS TO EUROPE...... 47

IV EARLY 'WRITING ON EUROPE...... 114

V DISILLUSION AND DESPAIR...... 187

NOTES...... 238

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY...... 263 CHAPTER I

THE TRADITION OF AMERICA!! TRAVEL WRITING, 1800-1865

From the earliest oolonial times Americans hare maintained a lively interest in Europe, regarding it with a mixture of reverence, irritation, and contempt. The first colonists had a recent and intimate knowledge of the mother oountry, and they were, mo re over#

loyal British sub jeots who did not oonsider that in migrating to

America they had beoome any the less Englishmen. Gradually this easy familiarity with the homeland diminished as Anerican-born colonials increasingly outnumbered natives of England, but oultural, scien­ tific, and humanitarian relations remained so olose as to retard the growth of a distinctive Amerioan national consciousness. In fact, suoh men of the Revolutionary generation as Franklin and Jefferson broadened, rather than narrowed, their views, so that they became genuinely cosmopolitan. They corresponded with numerous soientists and politicians on the Continent as well as in England*^

But this cosmopolitanism was also a weakening of the sense of personal identi float ion with England. By the time that Anerloan literature began to emerge as a separate entity in the work of

Washington Irving, more than a century and a half of ruatioation in

Amerioa and the wave of national feeling during and after the Revol­ ution had done their work. Whether the Amerioan approached Europe as the shrine of antiquity, as Irving did in unoritioal admiration. 2 or as the arena of contemporary political struggles, as Cooper did with unapolegetlc candor, he oould no longer write without the con­ sciousness that he was, in a sense, a marked men— the representatlTe of a new end increasingly independent way of life. Hence Amerioan travelers of the nineteenth century approached European culture with so dlstinot a sense of its difference from American culture that it was possible to minimise or erren forget the continuity of Amerioan life with its European sources. At the same time, the idea that the

United States was the realization of mankind's age-old dream of an earthly paradise was so strong that derogatory accounts of the sooiety and political institutions o f the Old Tforld beoame a domin­ ant theme in the writing of Amerioan travelers.

Thus two related but divergent attitudes toward Europe emerged early in the nineteenth oentury. Irving epitomises nostalgia for the old home and a desire to identify himself with the rich culture of the European past. Cooper, on the other hand, represents those writers who plaoe more emphasis on politics and sooiety and who find

Amerioan demooraoy and Amerioan opportunity superior to European aristocracy and oppression. Perhaps most often the two tendencies are intermingled in the work of the same author, but they remain as separable elements which produce the ambivalence characteristic of

Amerioan attitudes toward Europe.

In "The Author's Aooount of Hina el f," which prefaces The Sketch­ book, Irving points out the differences between travel in America and 3 in Burop®. Amerioan natural beauty is unsurpassed, be says#

But Bur ope held forth the o harms of storied and poetical association* There were to be seen the masterpiece of art# the refinments of highly culti­ vated sooiety# the quaint peculiarities of ancient and looal custom. Ity native country was full of youthful promisei Europe was rich in the accumulated treasures of age. Her very ruins told the history of times gqne by# and every mouldering stone was a chron­ icle • I longed to wander over the scenes of renowned achievement#--to tread# as it were# in the footsteps of antiquity#--to loiter about the ruined castle#» to meditate on the falling tower#--to escape# in short# from the ocanonplaoe realities of the present# and lose myself among the shadowy grandeurs of the past*

"The shadowy grandeurs of the past"— the phrase holds implicit all the romantic antiquarianism of Irving and his host of followers.

The Sketchbook and Bmoebridge Hall# whioh followed it in 1822# are made up of observations on English customs# architecture# history# and character. In The Alhambra (1832) Irving exploits a rloh source of romantio legendry in the tales of the Moorish occupa­ tion of Spain. Antiquity and picturesqueness# mouldering castles and beautiful phantoms from a storied past fill these still-pleasant pages.

The same motives that sent Irving to Europe lay behind the writing of Longfellow’s Outre-Mer (1833). It is true that Longfellow went to Burope to continue his education in Paris and Gottingen# but he also traveled in Spain and Italy to oolleot impressions of the same romantio tendenoy as that of Irving's sketohes.^ Longfellow# like Irving# based much of his work on European legend# and oosnented on the pioturesque and the beautiful# while almost entirely avoiding 4 any comment on the contemporary soene.

Thus one kind of travel book early established a pattern which was to be followed with variations for the rest of the century*

Gradually the area oovered by foot-loose Americana broadened* aa they pushed on to Switzerland* Austria* Greece* Egypt* the Holy Land*

India* and eventually the Far Saat* Host literary men of the oentury wrote at least one book of foreign travel* Among prominent authors* only Thoreau* Whitman* and Dickinson did not travel abroad* although

Poe might also be added to the number* since his reoolleotions of a few childhood years in England furnished so little material for hie pen*

Of all literary travelers* Bayard Taylor undoubtedly put most miles and words behind him* Beginning with V i e w Afoot? or Europe

Seen with Knapsaok and Staff in 1846* he published a dosen volumes in the following thirty years* dealing with Ireland* Sootland* Bug land*

Belgian, Germany* Bohemia* Austria* Italy* Switzerland* Franoe*

California* Uexioo* Egypt* Central Africa* Palestine* Sicily* Spain*

India* China* Japan* Sweden* Denmark* Lapland* Greeoe, Russia*

Norway* and Iceland* Taylor's work usually appeared as travel letters in the New York Tribune* to be put between covers when he oorapleted any particular trip** The sketches are almost devoid of ooment on men and manners* so that notable sights usurp attention even more thoroughly than they do in most travel books. In introduc­ ing Views Afoot* Taylor desoribed the motives that drove him onward through one oountry after another for most of his life in terms B almost identical with Irving* s statement in The Sketchbook. adding that ha wished to "educate Myself more completely and variously than 6 my situation and olrcimstanoes enabled me to do at home." And while he noted in "A Familiar Latter to the Reader" prefacing Byways of

Buropa twenty-three years later that his first book of travel had < been the untrained observations of a nineteen-year-old boy* the later work shows little more oonoera for the problems of contemporary sooiety.

Ho thorough census has ever been attempted of the traveling ladies and gentlemen who wrote letters to be published in their home­ town papers* and perhaps subsequently collected their sketohes into books. Bone familiarity with nineteenth-oentury newspapers and magaslnes* however* lndicates that their work was voluminous* and e that the t radition of Irving and Taylor was the dominant one.

Other travelers* however* used their trips to Bur ope as am opportunity to analyse the old-world sooieties and to compare them with the United States. It soon became oustomary, of oourse* for every suthor of travel sketohes to make soma kind of general compari­ son to the advantage of the United States and* often in his conclu­ sion* to empress his eagerness to return to the free atmosphere of his homeland. Bryant* for example* without any detailed analysis* contrasted the typioal European government of power with the Amerioan government of opinion and oonoluded* "1 shall return to America even a better patriot than when I left it."7 Such a stateawnt may be 6

Merely an elevation of the tourist's homesickness to the level of am

Ideal, but the persistence of auoh remarks tempera the view that

Amerioan pilgrims were wholly uncritical of what they aaw in Europe*

Of the wrltere *ho were primarily observers of aooiety and government. Cooper, Booraon, and Hawthorne deaerre notioe here*

Cooper lived in Europe from 1826 to 1833, where he went to educate hia daughters, to Improve his health, to find a little recreation, and to proteot hia valuable Britlah oopyrighta, aa Irving had done*

Both in Franoe and in England he waa cordially received* In France he waa on familiar terms with Lafayette and indeed gave at least his sympathy to the Frenchman's project a for spreading liberty in

Europe* In England Cooper met the leading English men of letters, by whom he was accepted as a fellow worker* Travels in Switzerland,

Italy, and Germany extended his knowledge of the Continent*

Cooper's reactions to European countries were various* Franoe he admired for its pleasant ease of maimer, but he was shooked at the freedom of oonreraation in mixed oompany* In addition, he was strongly oritioal of the reactionary regime of Charles X, and after

1830 he doubted that the government of Louis Philippe would survive*

Italy charmed him so thoroughly that he could see little to crit­ icise, although he later laid his novel of governmental oppression in Venice* In kgland Cooper smarted under English condescension, so that he was needlessly oritioal of minor details* English politi­ cal uaages he found "much in arrears," and concluded that k g land was a country "that all respect, but few love*"** In faet. Cooper's 7

1828 trip to England waa mad* to arrange for publloatlon of Not!one of the Americana, a surrey of aoolal institution* in the United

States designed to answer criticisms of English travelers. Cooper naturally stressed the great potentialities of Amerioa, for he found that the high general level of intelligence in the United i States, resulting from the wide diffusion of ooomon eduoation, and operating an the vast resources of the continent must eventually produce a society of greater stature than any in the Old World* The natural movement toward demooraoy visible in Europe had been anti­ cipated in Amerioa, so that already the young nation oould walk ereot amoqg the powers of the earth.

In his several novels of European setting. Cooper used the novel of aotion as a politioal allegory* The Bravo (1881), for example, although it takes place in Venloe in the days of the Bepublio, oontains enough di root consentary on politics to suggest its applica­ bility to o on temporary Europe* The novel dramatises the vicious effeots of a government based on speoial privilege rather than on popular sovereignty*

Gtoe of the best known commentaries on Bagland, and perhaps the best work of its kind, is Aaerson's Bigllsh Traits (1856)* Although he traveled abroad several times, Bnerson did not have a sight­ seeing mentalityj he neither valued travel nor enjoyed it* Hence little of the book is concerned with soenery and shrines* It la rather an attee^t to disoover the sources of the success of the 8

Biglish as a nation, for Bnerson does not hositato to recognise

England as tho most rigorous enterprise risible in the world of his

time* Systematically surveying the physical enrironment, race,

traditions, wealth, and sooial structure, Q u r s o n finds that all

elements converge to produce "the best of actual nationsBut the

signs of a g'rowing democracy are evident, and he feels that it is

good to see the old symbols of the feudal order before they are swept

away, Sinoe Baers on has no oause to defend, he encounters no prob­

lem of lcrring or hating, admiring or soorning. Tet he too feels

that -the future lies westward, and he sums up this attitude in a

remark to Carlyle &

I told Carlyle that I was easily dassled, and was aocustomed to eonoede readily all that an Englishman would askj I saw everywhere in the country proofs of sense and spirit, and suooess of every sort: I like the people; they are as good as they are handsomei they hare everything and can do everythingj but meantime, I surely know that as soon as 1 return to Massachusetts I shall lapse at once into the feeling, whioh the geography of Amerioa inevitably inspires, that we play the game with immense advantage! that there and not here is the seat and centre of the British raoe! and that no skill or aotivity oan long oompete with the prodigious natural advantages of that oountry, in the hands of the some race; and that Big land, an old and exhausted island, must one day be contented, like other parents, to be strong only in her ohlldren,®

Baerson never lost the oonviotlon he expressed in "The American

Scholar" in 1837 that Amerioa*s day of dependenoe was drawing to a d o s e ,

Hawthorne's chance to see Europe came with his appointment to the consulship at Liverpool in 1853 after the election of Franklin 9

Pie roe* Hawthorne remained abroad seven years , both in hie consul- ehip and in aubaequent reaidences in Franoe and Italy* In both

The Marble Faun (1860) and Our Old Home (1863) Hawthorne ahowed himself to be faeoinated by the antiquity of the old world and by the visible evidences of the paat in wo rice of art, buildings, and eoenee with literary and historical associations* Indeed he became at times so attached to the richness of European culture that he felt he could not survive in the thin atmosphere of his own country* Tet in Italy he also felt that the past was a burden crushing modern life, and that the sense of old wrong must stain lives passed in its presence.

In Bigland, too, Hawthorne showed a distinct taste for antiqui­ ties, but expressed his oontentment at not having to live with them.

In Our Old Home, the sense of identification with the ftiglish past is strong, but there is also an amused tolerance with British bumbling* adolesoent love of display, national conceit, and almost animal ooarseness. His criticism is hardest hitting when It is dlreoted against social and economic inequities; his chapter on English poverty is a classio of Its kind. One leaves the book with the feel­ ing that Hawthorne's reverenoe for the old home is greatly alloyed with satisfaction at living elsewhere.

The same mingled strains of attraction and repulsion appear ia the four fragments of an English romanoe which Hawthorne struggled with at the end of his life* An Amerioan olaimant strives to relate himself to the Baglish past, but the symbol of a bloody footstep insistently refreshes the sense of ancestral wrong.

Before the Civil War, then, the two traditions of American comment on Europe were established. The romantic tourist sought to establish his claim to a past richer then any his own country could offer, but none the less his; the orltic looked at the European present, and olaimed the future for America. Both traditions were perpetuated in the work of Adams, Howells, and Twain. CHAPTER II

ADAA8, HOWELLS, AND TWAIN AT HOUR

By the decade preceding the Civil War, the tradition* of

European travel exiting were well established. Travel was, of course,

not neoessary as a means of exposure to European influences; one's

own ancestors, remote or recent, imnlgrants, correspondence, and

perhaps particularly the steady flow of books across the Atlantie kept alive the vigorous effects of Europe on American life* But travel seemed somehow the logical way to get one's Europe first-hand without the interposition of faded personal reminlsconce or too- brlghtly colored travel books, and those who oould afford the time and money for so great a venture were eager to go in person to soenes at once strange and familiar. When the three young men we are con­ cerned with went abroad, their prior experience of Europe, their motives in going, and their expectations varied considerably*

I

When Henry Adams embarked for Europe in 1858, the twenty-year- old Harvard graduate was continuing a family tradition that had begun when his great-grandfather, John Adams, sailed for Paris in 1778 to act as envoy of the embattled, infant United States in the negotiations

for treaties of peaoe and oossneroe with England, Only after ten years in Europe was John Adams permitted to return to the dignified retire­ ment of Braintree wtll called to the Presidency,

- 11 - 12

This first trip also sat tha pattern of European eduoation of tha Adamses. John Quincy Adams, than tan years old, accompanied his fathar to Paris, ostansibly as private sacratary, but actually to oontinua his schooling. With but briaf interruptions ha studiad at

Paris, Amstardam, and Laydan until 1785, whan ha returned to America to complete' his education with a law degree at Harvard. John Quinoy in his turn took up tha family1 s diplomatic work, and between 1794 and 1617 ha held ministries at Tha Hague, Idsbon, Berlin,

St. Petersburg, and London,

In 1809 Charles Franois, son of John Quincy, want abroad with his father at the age of two and remained until he was ten. During this time he learned Frenoh so well as to prefer it always to his native tongue. Not so much because he was less precocious than his father as because the opportunity did not offer, Charles Francis

Adams was to wait until he was fifty-four, in 1861, to become Minister to England, and to take with him as private seoretary his third son,

Henry Brooks Adams,^ But Henry had not so long to wait for his first taste of Europe,

There was in Henry1 s world, first of all, a certain tension that he remembered with vivid force when he came to write the early ohapters of The Education of Henry Adams over half a century later,

Quinoy and Boston were the summer and the winter worlds of his boy­ hood; the Adams heritage, to whioh he chiefly responded as he grew, was identified with Quinoy, as the maternal Brooks tradition was associated with Boston, Quinoy, further, was the home of rebellion. IS

of Puritan reformist polltios, opposed to the commercialism of State

Street. And Quinoy, finally, sms the symbol of Amerioan nationalism,

for whereas Bostonians "knelt in self-abasement11 before the ideal of

England's middle-class government, the men of Quinoy never knelt

before anything earthly. Charles Sumer, of Boston, might glory in his European sooial sucoess, but Charles Francis Adams, heir to a

oentury of Quinoy's hostility to England, would be unlikely to have

such success, and even less likely to relish the distinction it would bring him at home.^

And there was his paternal grandmother, Louisa Catherine Johnson

Adams, flowering palely in the Quincy home like an exotic bloom In an

unfriendly climate. A Marylander by ancestry, she was born in

London, and had passed much of her early life abroad, first as the

daughter of an Amerioan merchant in London, and then as the wife of

John Quincy Adams, during his years in the diplomatic aervloe. Only at fbrty-two was she permanently domiciled in the United States, and

not until she was seventy did she settle down in the Quincy home­

stead. She became for Henry's boyhood the symbol of alien mysteries,

of the world beyond Boston and Quincy, and she held for him a fragile oharm, alien like the charm of her Queen Anne mahogany and her Sevres

china.*

And there were French lessons from his father. Charles Francis

Adams had learned French as he learned English, so that he was able

to give Henry "some idea of a French aooent,” even though he did not

give him much idea of Franoe. 14

Thor* waa reading# for booka became "the source of life." When

Charles Francis Adams read aloud to his children# he was likely to ohoose political literature# and political literature was likely to be American: the speeches of Horace Uann# or the Biglow Papers of 6 Lowell* He read too the poetry of Longfellow and Tennyson# but the boy took fo'r his own# contemporary English writers: Dickens and

Thackeray# Bulwer# Tennyson# Macaulay# and Carlyle, and# for the happiest hours# Scott# read while Henry lay on a pile of old Congres- 7 sional documents*

And finally there was Harvard# where from 1854 to 1858 Henry studied French# German# and Italian# read in European history# and sat at the feet of James Russell Lowell recently returned frca g Burope to take Longfellow's ohalr as professor of modern languages*

If he had not brought back the philosophy he had sought in the twi­ light of German transoendatalism# Lowell had at least brought from

Germany the custom of having students read with him in his study*

Thus Henry oame under the spell of the poet, and heard of his ad­ ventures as a student in Europe* Lowell encouraged Adams to spend a couple of years in Europe as a polish to his Harvard education# and

Henry# as he records in The Bduoation# fell in readily enough with 9 advioe that he do what he wanted to do*

The student's Handerjahr had some precedent in the nineteenth oentury# but the pleasantly vague goals of suoh a trip were not ade­ quate to justify to the Adamses the use of so muoh time and money*

Writing in the Harvard Class Book of 1858# Henry mentioned that he 15

expeoted to work harder in Europe than he ever had at Harvard to

beoome a scholar and master of linguages. He looked forward, he

wrote, to a quiet literary life, believing such a life to be happy

and. in the United States, useful.*0 His parents were naturally

reluctant to part with their son. and may very genuinely have felt

qualms over1 the vicious temptations of Burope. His father. Henry

later wrote in The Bduoatlon, "felt no love for Burope. which**,

unfitted Americans for America."*'* As a compromise, it was agreed

that Henry should study civil law. but Henry's subsequent ingenuity

in finding ways to delay coming to grips with the subject suggests

that studying olvll law was not so much a compelling motive in his trip as a ms.sk of respectability for an excursion without any well- defined goals.

Bren as late as February. 1859. after he had been in Burope more than a year, the debate over what he expeoted to accomplish went on in letters exchanged with his older brother. Charles Francis, Ur. had remained In Boston struggling to establish a law practice. His letters to Henry a re not available, but we ean reconstruct much of their content and even of their tone from Henry's replies to them.

Being three years older, and presumably launohed on his career*

Charles gave rein to his querulous temperament and frequently called on Henry to aooount for his use of his opportunities and to work out a feasible plan for a career. These letters are a revealing index of the personalities of the two young men. and are also a reflection of Henry's changing attitudes toward his Burope an surroundings as he 16

it pressed to redefine his goals vnder shifting circumstances*

In the first of these letters* written about two weeks after he

reached Berlin* Henry describes the European program he had formed before leaving Anerica as "simple enough; useful enough; and compre­ hensive enough." He had intended to "aocustom" himself to the German

language* enroll in the University, attend leotures on the olvil law* take a Latin tutor, and to continue this oourse in Heidelberg or in

Paris. Now* however, he questions the wisdom of studying law* Latin* and German all at onoe* especially as he would have to break into the middle of a term at the University* It becomes clear* he goes on, that two years will not be nearly enough to do all he had hoped* and he will be satisfied that the two years will be the best employed of his life if he does nothing more than learn German and French*

His plan of life he expects to be oarried out in the regular oourse of events "if health and the usual goods of life are contin­ ued" i two yeare in Europe; two years studying lew in Boston* and then emigration and law practice at St. Louis* "If I know myself*" he concludes, "I oan't fail* I must* if only I behave like a gentle­ man and a man of sense* take a position to a certain degree credit­ able and influential." He agrees grudgingly that Richard Henry Dana may have been right in aoousing him of looking toward polities* for he reoognlses in himself two basio traits of the family constitution* a oontinual tendenoy tosmrds politics* and family pride* But he thrusts the idea aside* for he has seen "altogether too much harm done in this way."12 17

By January, 1859, Charles was pressing him to make a start on a

oareer by writing for the monthlies. Henry*s first reaction is one

of violent opposition tempered by a modest suggestion. He does not

consider his mind original or adapted to literary work; above all,

Adams the soholar would rather die "than make one of that butterfly

party which New Yorkers seem to consider their literary world." But,

he conoedes, he has thought of doing a paper on his experience in

the Prussian sohools which mlgh*: be "at once readable and instructive n 15

Olven this much encouragement, Charles returned to the attaok so vigorously that in February Henry was moved to one of his most heated

defenses, Charles had evidently proposed that Henry become a leader

in the nation by writing on topics of public interest in the popular magaslnes. But Henry will not consent to be a George Curtis or an

Ik Marvel, "a lecturer before Lyceums and College societies; a

dabbler in metaphysics, poetry, and art." The law, after all, is no

such bad field as Charles had implied, and he is only trying to get his start as Mr. Everett, Mr. Summer, Ur. Seward, and Ur. Palfrey had, all of whom began either as lawyers or as clergymen,**

What was really bothering Charles, apparently, was a character­ istic fear that Henry might merely be idling his time away in

Burope, and he returned to this argument under various guises over several years. Henry never successfully met this point, which is to say that he never clearly defined what he expeoted to gain from his stay in Burope. "You try to put me on the horns of a dilema," he complains• Either the plan to be a lawyer is sound, in whioh oase the axperiflaf-o of Europe la " w o n © than thrown away," or the plan is

not feasible and must be given up. "3*..think that you are mistaken

not only in your judgement f*\oJ of my mind, but also in your idea

of the neoeasary result of two years in Europe. But I shall not go

into this subject now. Perhaps in another letter I shall give you

some reasons for believing that what I am learning here in Europe is

■ IS not in opposition to what I propose to do hereafter. So the argu aent was deforred. It oould have no successful issue* for Charles was convinced that no good could oomo of European study, while Henry was aware that he was enjoying himself, and henoe was benefitting vastly from his tour, although in just what way he was unable to say

Shortly after the anniversary of his arrival in Berlin, he

reviewed defensively the results of his first year abroad. He acknowledges readily that he has failed to carry out his original plan, and has done little or nothing toward learning civil law, but he is unwilling to admit that the year in Europe has been useless!

I feel for myself oonvinoed that this year has been no failure, but on the contrary is worth to me a great deal; how much depends on the use I make of it; but the worth is there....I protest against your judging about the advantages of a few years in Burope from my oase....I have acquired here great advantages; if I am a humbug, they won't help me; but I shouldn't have done better if I'd remained in Boston; if I am not a humbug, we shall see; but in either oase the advantages are there, and the failure, if failure it is, will be in me and not in the Buropean experiment which may be of imense use to a capable man. ®

Again Henry was unable to say just what benefits he was getting from his stay in Burope; the "advantages” remained unspecified. IS

The longer the experiment continued, and the harder he was pressed

to defend himself, the firmer he became in his certainty that these

two years were the most valuable of his life. When it came time to

return home, Henry Adams, conscious that he had not carried out the

ambitious, rigid program he and his father had agreed on, wrote

Charles that he expected their father to attribute every error in his

life to Europe, For himself, he expected to appear as unformed as

Charles had on entering an office. What he had learned in Europe was a reserve foroe that would come into play only very slowly, but he

77as no more able to say when he came home than when he left exactly what constituted that reserve.

II

To the west, in Ohio, William Dean Howells as a boy was much less aware of Europe as an active force in his life. His father's

people, he knew, had been Welsh flannel weavers, and his grandmother 17 still kept in her old age a pride in her nationality, Howells wee never unduly impressed by old-world origins, but he remembered— if

only to sooff at it— a family tradition that the earliest anoestors had been Welsh kings.*8 His maternal grandmother was the German wife of an Irishman. This mixture, Howells felt, made him typically

Amerioan; at any rate it prevented his strongly identifying himself with a single European oountry.

In the days before the Civil War, Ohio looked westward. Burope

lay behind, as a kind of remote sideshow overshadowed by the absorb- 20

inf, dr>nt of continental expansion. The Ohio newspapers for which

Howells worked illustrate this preoocupation with American affairs.

They often carried brief front-page filler items about the famous

cities and the great people of Europe. These little anecdotes had

a remote* froien quality about them* they preserved old bons mots

artificially* or commented on what one writer called "the general

declension Paris^ of private* commercial, and political 1 9 morals." On February 24* 1857* for example* the Cincinnati

Oasette reported a quarrel between Lord Stratford and Sir H. Bulwer

with the comment* "It would seem as though the English nobility

were rapidly degenerating into boors." And the next day it repeated*

probably by accident, an item that had appeared a week before!

The City of Gayety and Fashion— It is said* of Paris* that one out of every 5000 persons consults suicide; that two-thirds of the population cannot afford the expense of burial; that in every three births* one is illegitimate; that 50*000 persons besides those assisted by regular oharlties* arise every morning without knowing how they will get a dinner; and that 17*000 habitual drunkards* of the most brutal oharaoter* disgrace the city*

In eloquent contrast to this sobering item was the appearance of

several notes* with impressive figures on westward expansion under

such headings as "The .Yealth of I l l i n o i s " P o p u l a t i o n of Missouri*" 20 "Increase of Population of Tifestorn Cities."

Of the papers Howells worked on as compositor or writer* none has more interest for our story than his father's Ashtabula Sentinel.

A3 Sdvrin H. Cady has noted* the paper maintained what would be an 21 impossibly high literary tone for a family newspaper today. Local 21

news was handled casually, with no pretense at complete coverage*

Speolal features appealing to various groups in the largely rural

audience made up most of the material in every issue* The first

issue put out under the elder Howells*s editorship in January, 1853

promised "Stories for the merry; Essays for the grave; Arguments for

the combative; Poetry for the sentimental; News for the oausist

/sicJ i Treatises for the solentific; Markets for the Trader;

Artioles for the farmer and dalrytoan; 'Latest Arrivals' and 'Telegra­

phic Reports' for the newsmonger, and Marriage notices for the encour- 22 agement of Old Bachelors and Single Ladles•**.” What this notice

did not call attention to was the aggressive Jefferson!anisin of the

paper under the Howells management. The family had been attracted to northern Ohio by the free-soil sentiment of the area, and the elder Howells made the paper a voioe of equalltarianism in opposition both to the Southern slave power and to European oppression* The paper reprinted the Declaration of Independence every year, often adding an editorial underscoring the peculiarly American quality of li berty *

But the literary experience the paper provided was intensified

for the young Howells by the faot that his father read aloud to the family at home in the evening the exchanges from which he was d i p ­ ping much of hia material* Moreover, his early work in printing offioes led Will Howells to become a reader, and once again, reading led baok, as it always had, to European sources* The record of hie youthful reading which Howells has left in Years of JfilL Youth and in 22

Ijy Literary Passions tells the familiar story once again. Before the

Civil .Var, on the frontier as in New England, American readers, es­ pecially those with pretensions to culture, still very largely read

English authors. The Howells family bookcase was filled with

Swedenborg and the British poetst Thomson, Cowper, Byron, Goldsmith, and Scott for early boyhood reading; Pope and Shakespeare for the later years of youth. His reading was not, indeed, unlike that of any boy who had access to books and the will to read thorn, except perhaps for a singular intensity in his application. From the poets he went on to prose writers* Dickens, Thackeray, DeQuincey, l.Iacaulay, and again to the poets* V/ordsworth, Chaucer, and Tennyson.

In another way his father’s position as a publisher brought him into contact with European letters. Occasionally through exchanges he got hold of the British magazines, The Edinburgh Review,

The London Quarterly, The VteBtroinster Review, and Blackwood * s. vail Howells started reading these magazines thoroughly when he was eighteen, and occasionally made superficial reviews of their contents for whatever paper he worked for at the time.

If Howells’s reading was not different in kind from that of other bright boys, it did differ in leading him to study foreign languages. He came early to a love of Spain through his reading of

Irving’s Conquest of Granada and Tales of the Alhambra and of Don

Quixote. Vfl.th labor that now seems incredible, he taught himself

Spanish with the aid of a pocket gransnar. By 1853, before his six- 23

teenth birthday, ha had become a local prodigy by trans1atlng from tha 23 Spanish for a paper in a neajrby town. In 1855 ha was contributing

flotion translated from tha Spanish and from tha French to his

father's paper, and by 1357 ha had almost wholly deserted his early

passions to devote himself to the German of Heine* These transla- 24 tions continued until he went abroad in 1861.

Just why he should have been so eager to learn foreign languages before he had explored the literature of English thoroughly, Howells never makes clear to us. That Irving and Cervantes aroused his

interest in Spain seems natural enough, but that he should have

labored as he did over pages that for many months could have yielded

little to him is more difficult to understand* The young Howells

seems to be responding here to a force that is visible in the lives of other frontier boys. Hamlin Garland has left an eloquent reoord of his own intense impulsion toward learning, while Abraham Linooln’s eagerness for knowledge has beoome a legend cherished beoause it

sums up an important national ideal* For Howells, as for Garland three deoades later, this aafeition to rise through 1 earning took the

form of a desire to be a poet* The name poet had clustered about it associations of something high and refined above the dross of daily life* Whether the ambition at first included a desire for wealth and fame is not dear, but for both boys it meant becoming "baok- trailers," in Garland's phrase, meant returning to the older oultural centers of the Bast* 24

The story of the country boy struggling to mako his mark in a preoccupied or even hostile city is as old as the history of towns i for Howells it is a kind of Leitmotiv for his whole life and a re- 25 current theme in his fiction* Howell's earliest reoollections were of Hamilton* Ohio* a small town whose freedom endeared it to him as the "Boy's Town" of his manhood* From there his father's rapidly shifting ambition took the family to Dayton* large enough in 1 850 to be a city lacking the easy informality of a small town* The family's vague unhappiness there apparently accounted for the growth in the thirteen-year-old Will Howells and in his older brother Joe of an ideal of small-town life* as against life in either the oourtry or the city*^® After a brief stay in Columbus* they welcomed the move in

1852 to Jefferson* Ohio* a small town where for a few years ranging the autumn woods* sleighing and dancing and partying had made of the

0 7 village "an incredible paradise" for youth* But as these pleasures wore out and ambition grew* Howells became impatient of the village 28 and began "to pine for a wider world and prouder pleasures*"

A picture of a fashionable ball on the oover of a piece of popular sheet music became for M i l and his sister an image of "that great world of wealth* of fashion* of haughtily and dazslingly* blindingly brilliant society*"^® From that time his life became for some years a struggle toward the metropolis* and toward its acceptance of him*

At first the metropolis was the state capital of Columbus*

In 1855 the elder Hows 11s was appointed a House clerk for the 8tate

Legislature*^ and a year later took M i l to the capital with him 26

where the nineteen-year-old lerred as legislative correspondent for

The Cincinnati Gazette. A desk on the floor of the Senate, and books

from the State Library enhanced "the sense of a capital" which his

father had tried to impress on him during the family's brief resi­

dence in Columbus in 1852, so that for a time at least Howells felt

near the oenter of the oivilized world. '.Mien he made a brief stay in

Cincinnati in 1657 as police reporter on the Gazette, he was momen­ tarily fhscinated by the bigger city. Writing to Joe on April 10,

1857, he communicated his excitementi

Already I am grown fond of this big bustling oity. The everlasting and furious rushing up and down, and to and fro, pleases me, and I like nothing better than to stroll about the streets alone, and stealthily oontem- plate the shop windows and orange stands, and speculate on the people I m e e t .31

Shortly his old homesickness overoame his fondness for the big cityi in addition his romantic yearning to be at the heart of great affairs led him back to Columbus. Years later he reoalled his feelings!

"The newspaper offioe ^Tn Cincinnati^ was not the Capitol of Ohio;

I was not by the fondest imputation a part of the state government, and I felt the dlfferenoe keenly."52 Finally, he shrank from the unpleasantness of reporting the polloe-station, where the ravings of a drur.ken woman were Impressed on his memory. After a brief try at the Job, he turned his back on its "abhorrent contacts" and returned to the family print shop in Jefferson for haven until a call came to Join the staff of a Columbus paper.

With the advantage of looking backward from the end of a long 26

career devoted to minutely aocurate realism, Howells was able to

regret that he had not continued in the polioe reporter's job where he might have "learned in the school of reality the many lessons of human nature viiioh it oould hare taught,"^® His longing, as he later reoognized,was for the "cleanly respectabilities," and his enduring ambition in these romantic years was to be a poet and to approach with reverence the American Parnassus, As Howells con­ tinued to drudge at his newspaper work, he also wrote Terse in the style of Heinrioh Heine, and, after an initial delay while Lowell made sure that a Howells poem was not merely a translation of Heine, his work began to appear occasionally in The Atlantic Monthly along with the work of the masters of his imagination, Longfellow,

Holmes, and Lowell* The glories of Columbus paled beside those of

Boston.

In 1860 a business change in the unstable affairs of The Ohio

State Journal left Howells without a place. For a time he read manusoripts for Foster and Follett, the Columbus publishers who had published the Poems of Two Friends Howells had done jointly with

J. J, Piatt, The publishers then proposed that Howells do a life of LinooIn for the presidential oampaign shortly to begin, but, misty-eyed young poet that he was, Howells oould not— or would not— visit Springfield, Illinois, to interview the candidate, and pre­ pared the Life of Ahraham Lincoln from notes provided by a young law student dispatohed fbr the purpose. The biography apparently sold rather well, at least in the IKsst, so that the publishers sug­ 27 gested that Ho walls use his royalties to tour New York, Quebec, and

New England on a rowing commission to assemble notes for a volume on manufacturing methods. After a first disappointment when a

Portland iron founder refused to reveal a seoret process, Howells gave up his journalistic mission and made a pleasure trip which led inevitably to Boston and New York where he sought out his literary

5 4 idols. He was cordially received by James T. Fields, who, as publisher of The Atlantic Monthly, dramatically counted out before him twsnty-five dollars in gold half-eagles for a poem then in proof.

He was as kindly reoeived by Lowell, who invited him to a dinner with

Fields and Holmes, where the Autocrat said to Lowell, with what

Howells took to be an ironic smile, "'Veil, James, this is something like the apostolic succession; this is the laying on of hands

Howells could recognize the wryness of the remark and Ignore it, too, in that moment that seemed an ultimate fulfillment of his dreams.®®

From Boston he went on to Concord where he saw Hawthorne, who in the Intervals between embarrassed silences expressed a desire to 36 see the West where "the damned shadow of Europe had not fallen."

Visits to Shoreau and finerson were less satisfactory, but at least the yovng Westerner had made his obeisanoes to his literary gods.

In New York he met the Bohemians associated with the Saturday

Press and with PfaffTs beer cellar, but he had become so far

Bostonian in loyalties that the irreverence of the Bohemians toward the great men of New England seemed to mark a great desoent from the sublime heights of Boston. Only Walt Whitman left in his memory a 28

sense of apirltual dignity* From this tour Howells turned west­

ward again, but he had forever fovsid a home in the Eastern mstro-

polia•

Much the same quality of a pilgrimage to the center of the

world marka Howells*s first trip to Europe. He records in Yeara of

tty Youth that for reasons he oould not later be sure of, he wanted

to leave Columbus and go east* He was pleasantly enough situated

in Columbua where friends gave him both the social pleasure and the intellectual stimulation he needed, but he began to feel that his work would be less aooeptable if he remained in the VVost*^

He was not, he later insisted, of those who fblt that the literary pundits of the East had dealt unfairly with '.'fostern writers. He had, it is true, contributed several of his poems and four sketches of fellow stem authors to Coggeshall's Poets and Poetry of the West

(I860), but he did not share the offended regional pride which had motivated the volume. His own flattering reception both in the pages of The Atlantic and in the homes of Lowell and Fields had at once avoided offense to his tender consciousness of his provincial origins and attracted him to the glittering Bast. And if New

England was the home of that rich, ineffable glory that shimmered around the word Literature, how much more £ortous was Europe 1 He felt that there would be "more intellectual atmosphere" for him in

New York or New England, and if intellectual atmosphere was what he sought, how much sure Intensely might it be provided in the Old

Hbrldl 29

In addition, Howells sought in Europe the realization of his

romantic Ideal of the poet's life. This ideal had always implied to

him a withdrawal from the immediate world. As a boy of fifteen he had consciously adopted the literary life as his goal, and had sought

it naturally and illogloally enough in books. His almost complete

preoccupation with study prevented his realizing that he was absorb­

ing unconsciously the intimate sense of daily living which is the main concern and a major virtue of his fiotion. Be had been fas­

cinated by his work for newspapers, but he never considered that his journalism was anything more than a job he oould do because he happened to be literate. Journalism and literature were different worlds in his mind, and 1 f he did a competent job for the paper

during, the day, he saved his best energies for his "literature" in

the evening. It is too much to say, as one reoent critic does, that

Howells consciously avoided reality in his refusal to interview

Lincoln, in his desertion of the police reporter's job in Cincinnati, and in his flight from the country at the moment the President called

for volunteers in 1861, for he believed that ho was seeking else­ where the important part of life to put into his poems. But it is true that he failed to see the stuff of literature in the realities

circumstance was thrusting into his path.*® He could regret in his memoirs, with the fine perception of old age, that he had failed to talk to Lincoln, that he had missed the education police reporting might have given him, and that he had missed and fhlled to record the "personal experience of battle which forms so vital a part of our 50

• 59 history. But when the experiences were upon him, he saw them only

as throats to his dream of the poet's life, and he seised the only opportunity which promised to fulfill that dream* He went to Europe,

he later reoalled, to secure poetic dimness, that he might better

treat American life in literature,

When it was suggested to him that he might have a consulate In

reward for his biography of Lincoln, as Hawthorne had been rewarded

for his campaign life of Pierce, he seized upon the job as the best

chance to further his literary ambition. He believed that he was

running toward life, rather than away from it. He did perhaps

evade military service. He might have volunteered in Columbus and did not, when the singing thousands of red-shirted boys filled the

capital's streets*** he might have been drafted but had put himself beyond the reach of the selection board, What he really did was to mistake life, to suppose that the romantic gloom of antique Venice

/.as the best light by which to read the face of America,

III

If Henry Adams seemed to follow a family destiny by going to

Europe in his young manhood, and if William Dean Howells sought the poet's glory at the oenter of the civilized world, iiark Twain came upon Europe as though inadvertently in a quite different way.

Born and reared still farther west on the banks of the Mississippi, he was as much removed from direct influences from Europe as a boy might be, but even on the frontier he oame under those influences, unrecognised though they were. 31

That tho Missouri frontier was Isolated from the literate East

and that it was crude and violent has been demonstrated; that this

faot determined the charaoter of Mark Twain's literary life is beyond

proof. We know that in Hannibal, as in all frontier towns, orudity

and violence fought a guerrilla war against the moral respectability,

piety, and pride of class that were the heritage of most of the

townspeople. When Mark Twain in his manhood recalled Jimmy Finn,

Hannibal's "fragrant town drunkard," he inevitably recalled as well

the aura of disrepute that hung about the outcast, and when he was

terrified by the drunken brawls of the town's ring-tailed roarers,

his terrors were intensified by the sense that these men were dif­

ferent from his own sedate, even somewhat pompous father, that they were not, like Sam Clemens hims -If, of the "quality."*^

In addition to their traditions of gentility and righteousness, the Eastern and Southern families of Hannibal had brought with them

their literacy and reverence for learning. There were books on the

frontier, and we know with some certainty what those books were.

But we know distressingly little about what Sam Clemens read as a boy; his various autobiographical volumes are notably silent on this point. To suggest that Sam Clemens must have read the foreign

romanoes that Tom Sawyer spun into the ffcbrio of his dramatic

games is only to confuse creator and creature, and Twain's statement that he first read of Joan of Are on a stray leaf picked up on the street when he was sixteen— if it is an aoourate reoollection— fosters the suspicion that Sam Clemens as a boy read very little* 32

During his piloting years he had the reputation of being a great reader; under the guidance of a follow pilot he became acquainted with Shakespeare, and possibly with other writers as well* But we cannot confirm that he came to know Europe as Intimately through its literature as Adams, Howells, or Henry James did*

Yi’e do know, however, about some material that he certainly read, material that represents the apprenticeship leading to The Innocents

Abroad and that illuminates the character of that book* .Then he was fifteen Sam went to work for Joseph Ament of Hannibal to learn typesetting an the Mis sour1 Courier and shortly after changed to a similar job on his brother Orion's Hannibal Journal**^ It is reasonable to suppose that he read the papers he worked on; it is inescapable that he read what he himself composed* The files of both the Courier and the Journal show that like most other western papers of the time they clipped a good deal of their feature mater­ ial, and that much of this borrowed matter was what we have come to call frontier humor* That ^ark Twain's oareer as a writer grew out of this tradition of frontier humor hassever been seriously ques­ tioned and is by now established beyond doubt* What interests us here is the prominence in this humor of several kinds of contrast*

One souroe of contrast lay in the relationship between the writer and his material. Most of the humorous sketohes that began to appear in Eastern weeklies shortly after 1600 were written by sophisticated, alien observers whose very detachment from the life they pictured permitted them to recognise its eocentrloity and 33 quaintness* Writing and publishing rustio letter* from Jonathan

Jolthead and Jenny Stitohem was evidence of education enough to recognize that rural oharaoter was unusual and worth reoording.

Similarly* the material about the Old Southwest was almost invari­ ably collected by outlanders of considerable education who wrote up the humors of frontier life and oharaoter for the Eastern city audience* primarily in New York and Boston* Augustus Baldwin

Longstroet waa a lawyer whose Georgia Scenes of 1835 opened the way for the work of Thomas Bangs Thorpe* painter* soldier* and news­ paper editor* Johnson J. Hooper* lawyer and editor* William Tappan

Thompson, soldier, painter, law student* and journalist, and for 44 many another doctor, lawyer* or newspaperman*

A second manifestation of contrast in this humorous writing lay in the relationship between the writer and the leading character*

The leading character would be a backwoodsman* or small-town yokel* or raftsman pictured as unlettered but shrewd, devoid of both the social refinements and the false glamor of the city man, but intel­ ligent* keen, taught in the school of practical affairs* He might be the narrator, in which case direct quotation of his ooloriul dialect added to the oharm of the tale* In any oase, the rustic was the protagonist, so that the action was viewed from his vantage point and the outlook conveyed in his comon-sense remarks gained the reader*s sympathy* Now these remarks wore oritioal of high-falutin* 34

city waysi to that extant frontier humor could be a satire directed

against the foibles of Its Eastern urban audience. At the same time*

of course* it was a rerelation of rustic character* and a tacit

criticism of it* The thing to remember is that the rustic allegedly

speaking in the frontier sketoh is actually the creature of the

sophisticated Bastem writer* and is a mouthpiece and a mask for his

creator* Thus Johnson J. Hooper's Simon Suggs* although a disrep­ utable oharaoter whose antics the reader was not expected to condone* was nevertheless a hard-headed orltlc of human nature* reprehensible only because he was willing to turn his knowledge of human weakness to his own benefit* Similarly when the later literary comedians took ludiornua pen names* they disguised themselves as rustlos* illiterates* or rogues* and some of them* notably Artemus Ward* adopted the role on all public occasions and in effeot became the characters they had created. Yet eaoh of these humorous disguises was in strong contrast to the real personality of the writer*

Charles Farrar Browne's keen perception hid behind the stamnering* 46 weak-minded mask of A* Ward*

Another means of using contrast in frontier humor was the prominent theme of conflict between the rustio and oity people or city environment* The yokel comes up to town* comments with rural honesty and common sense on the incomprehensible and perhaps preda­ tory ways of the big oity* is taken advantage of because of his na£vet4 or honesty or generosity* and finally through his native wit or vigor bests his city tomentor and returns to the village* chas- 56

toned but triumphant. Sob* Smith'• Jack Downing goes up to Portland

with a load of ax-handles and stays In town to watch the legislature

entangle itself in partisan chicanery while Jack dryly comments on

its antics in letters to the folks back hone. Major Jones goes to

Vi'ashington to see the sights and to be swindled, but his native

pluok and honesty bring him out of his difficulties with his

character untarnished* The whole race of bumpkins come to town, buy bridges, blow out the gas lights, misunderstand running water, mis­ take a stage play for an actual tragedy and offer to help, and generally get into trouble through ignorance, timidity, or greenness*

Yet almost to a man they turn the triok against the city sharper, reoover their money, avenge the blew, and get the last laugh*

That Sam Clemens knew a great deal of this frontier humor with its strong reliance on contrast between seaboard and frontier, be­ tween city and farm, between slicker and rube, there can be little doubt* And that little doubt is dispelled when we disoover that his first piece of writing published away from home was a sketch in the vein of suoh humor, using an already familiar situation, and dealing almost entirely with the dude-frontiersman contrast* "A Dandy

Frightening a Squatter” appeared on May 1, 1862 in the Carpet-Bag of

Boston over the initials S. L. C. It is a slight sketch rather awkwardly done, and its humor lies wholly in the supposedly unexpected outcome, in rewarded sympathy for the apparent underdog, and in the contrast between dandy and squatter* The sketoh Is set in Hannibal

"about thirteen years ago"— placed in the past when Hannibal "was but PLBL3E NOTE:

Pag* 3 6 • • • o s to b* lacking in mufcoring onljr.

UNIVKB3ITT MICHDFILMfl, INC. 37 a ‘wood-yard,1 surrounded by a few huts, belonging to soma hardy

1squattera* and auoh a thing aa a steamboat waa considered quite a sight*" The setting in Hannibal was calculated, perhaps, as a looal joke, but mowing the incident back "about thirteen years" guaranteed that the local character would be orude and vigorous enough to sus­ tain the contrast with his opponent, "a spruce young dandy, with a killing moustache, Ac." The dandy threatens the squatter with a bowie-knife and a pair of large horse-pistols. The squatter is sufficiently calm to wait a moment before walloping the dandy between the eyes and upsetting him into the "turbid waters of the Mississippi,” whereupon the "ladles unanimously voted the knife and pistols to the victor •

In this brief, unpretentious story, Sam Clemens opened a career as a writer with a motif which was for some time to be almost his sole implement of humor and which was to remain always an effective tool in his humorist's kit* He had learned to use a method and a theme that he had grown up with* the contrast of the rural and the urban, of the innooent and the initiate*

A collateral tradition of American humor was the comic travel lottor, and this too, San Clemens learned to use* The early circum­ stances of the country's growth had encouraged the writing and oooaslonal publication of travel letters* The person who rode the traces into the wilderness on business, or the migrant who kept in touch with his folks back home felt moved to tell of strange sights and o us toms as he traversed a growing country from the coastal oities 38

tied to Europe both by conmerce and cultural exchange, through

established farms and plantations, through homesteads slowly emerging

from the forest cover, into the wilderness people only by scouts and

hunters. These letters and travel books were themselves the serious

record of the contrast we have noted at tho core of frontier humor,

and they were in addition the rodel for a variety of that humor,

for it waa soon peroelved that the letter home, or the more preten­ tious travel account designed for publication was the ideal means of

revealing the collision of bumpkin and metropolis in the country man's own idiom. Hence, for example, the adventures of Jack Downing are told in letters to the family in Dovmingville, and William Tappan

Thompson produced sketches of Major Jones's travels. In part these letters are oonsoious imitations of the rude, self-revealing personal letter, but in part also they are a kind of mock-heroic parody of the familiar newspaper letter of travel to foreign parts.

Sam Clemens was aware of the letter home, the travel letter, and the oomic possibilities of both. In 1852, during one of his brief trials as editor of the Hannibal Journal in Orion's absence, he provoked a rival editor into an imaginary quarrel that gave them both an opportunity for copy. Sam announced his withdrawal from the enoounter in a letter headed 39

For the Journal

Mr. Editori 1 be 11 ©va It 1 s customary, nowadays, for a man, as soon as he cots his name up, to take a "furrin” four for the benefit of his health; or, if his health is good, he goes without any excuse at all* Kow, I think my health was sufficiently injured by last week's efforts, to justify me in starting on my tour* and, ere your hebdomadal is published, 1 shall be on my way to another country— yea, Mr. Editor, I have re­ tired from public life to the shades of Glasscock's Island*— and I shall gratify such of your readers as have never been so far from home, with an aocount of this great island and my voyage thither* W* Epaminondas Adrastus Bleb.

Whatever the merits of this piece of humor, it at least reveals the boy's recognition of the travel letter as a vehiole for humor* The mock-heroic aspect of humorous travel letters is represented in the reference to Glasscock's Island— in the middle of the river just below the t

Blab's promised travel letters did not come at onoe, but when

Sam Clemens went wandering in 1353 and 1854, he sent baok a few infrequent letters whioh Orion published in his Muscatine, Iowa,

Journal, These travel letters are the only still-extant writing by the young Clemens whioh is not comic in intention. The letters are a reoord of the marvelous sights of Philadelphia and Washington.

There is in these letters much the same mixture of awe, irrever­ ence, and facts that appears in The Innocents Abroad* Describing his visit to the State House in Philadelphia, he was, like travelers from the time of Adam's first trip outside the Garden, momentarily over­ come by reveries of the grand historic past* 40

.'.hen a stranger enters this room for the first time, an unaccountable feeling of awe and reverenoe comes over him, and every memento of the past his eye rests upon whispers that he is treading upon sacred ground* Yes, everything in that old hall reminds him that he stands where mighty men have stood; he gazes around him, almost expecting to see a Franklin or an Adams rise before him. In this room is to be seen the old "Independence Bell," which called the people together to hear the Declaration read, and also a rude bench, on whioh 'Washington, Franklin, and Bishop 7/hlte once sat**8

And from Washington he reported that the "glory hath departed” from the Senate, for the plaoes of Clay, Webster, and Calhoun are filled by little men.

The letters are further marked as in the main tradition of travel writing by their attention to the curious and the wonderful.

At the Museum of the Patent Office he saw such varied marvels as

Peruvian munoies and Franklin's press of one hundred twenty years earlier. He also showed his characteristic interest in statistics by quoting the most striking figures about the Washington ISonument, then being built*^

He was not wholly awe-strioken, though, for he noted the con­ trast between the magnifloanoe of the government buildings and the mean ugliness of other buildings lining the muddy streets. The

White House and the Treasury, he noted, looked like "so many palaces 50 in a Hottentot village•" The House of Representatives, too, drew a oritioal oonment, for he found that nearly every representa­ tive "seemed to have something weighing on his mind on whioh the salvation of the Republic depended." Ur. Benton sat silent "like a 41

lion imprisoned in a oage of monkoys."

Not long after tho last of thane five serious travel letters

appeared in the Muscatine Journal, 3am Clemens turned to the buries - quo travel letter over the signature of Thomas Jefferson Snodgrass*

When in 1857 Clemens embarked on his projected trip to South America— a trip that was never oompleted but that led to his piloting experi­ ence— he contracted with the editor of the Keokuk Daily Post for travel letters at five dollars each. A country lout who goes to St*

Louisj Snodgrass creates a disturbance in a theater, gets into a series of misunderstandings with a railroad conductor through naSfvet^ and undue suspicion, and gets stuck with an abandoned baby*

Here, then, Sam Clemens— not yet to be Hark Twain for several years— is trying out the formula he was to bring to success in The Innocents

Abroad. He has adopted the burlesque travel letter with the innocent— a rather unattractive one, it must be admitted— in conflict with the big world as its central interest. He had moved beyond the serious travel letters a step closer to the kind of writing that was to form the substance of much of his later work*

When the Civil War d o s e d river traffic in 1861, Sam Clemens paused only briefly before joining his older brother Orion, who had been appointed secretary to the territorial governor of Nerrada* In

Washoe he began to contribute burlesque sketches to the Territorial

Enterprise even while he was most feverishly engaged in gold and silver mining, and when mining finally proved a mistaken hope, he took a full-time job as looal Vefrrospondent on the Enterprise. For the first 42 time he nts a professional writer* Two years of local reporting and legislative correspondence from Carson City left him again restless and eager for new scenery and for a wider scope for his now con­ sciously applied talent as a writer* His departure was aooelerated by an ill-advised--and illegal— challenge to a duel, and he left the Nevada country for Sen Francisco, where he took a routine reporter's job on the Call* By now he had become before all else a writer, and whatever new adventure he turned to was expected to furnish copy* These pivotal years in the itest oonverted him from a roving adventurer writing only for fun, into a writer traveling when neoessnry, to find material for his pen. Thus his brief return to the Nevada covmtry in the winter of 1864 to 1865, while it was nominally a lull in his journalistic career, was ultimately most notable for the stories it yielded. H«re he picked up notes for

"Jim Baker's Blue-Jay Yarn" and, at the moment more important, for

"The Jumping Frog of Calaveras County," the sketch that first brought him national prominence. In these years between 1361 and

1864 emerged the tensions that were to direot his oareer* Ho became irreconcilably a writer, but he oould not survive under the monot­ onous drudgery of a reporter's job* He oould only write, and his writing drove him on a life-long search for new and unusual soones to work up*

It was only natural, therefore, that after having originally turned down a ohanoe to go with the stesuner Ajax on her maiden voyage from San Franoisoo to H*wil.it he should reoonslder and art.1 on the 43

aeoond voyage. Hero wore aoonai of a novelty and strangeness that

constantly outran hia restlessness and provided endless material for

letters home. He had been s<*nt by tho Sacramento Union on the trip* which was expected to last four week3. It stretched finally to four months, and resulted in a series of letters to the Union whioh are notable fbr their voluminous detail, and fbr the emergence of the method that was to characterize the best of his later travel writing * vividly recorded minute detail, alternating with buffoonery arising

from the writer's masquerading as an indolent, slow-witted, inquisi­ tive traveler like Snodgrass or the frightened squatter.

After he had returned to San Franoisoo, he oould not again settle down to regular reporting work. For a time he found that lecturing was pleasant snd paid well* but it could not last forever.

Having dlscerered in the letters from Honolulu a method of supporting himself easily and pleasantly* he oontraoted to supply weekly letters to the Alta California on subjects of his own choice, while he made a 52 trip home fay way of the Isthmus of Panama and New York. The nature of this contract virtually required that he keep on the move, for his letters were suooessful under two conditions* they must constantly turn to new subjects* each subjeot yielding but a brief piece* and the subjeots must always be strange to his readers. Travel waa the only means of supplying this ceaseless flow of new, strange topics.

As he sailed from California bound for Hew York by way of Nicaragua* he continued to write iriiat were essentially travel letters. And even from New York* St. Louis* Hannibal* Keokuk* and Quincy* he was 44 writing of faraway places for his California audience.

■

Bast in such sketches as "The Dandy" and "The Jumping Frog." He had continued to develop his roputation by reporting the Sandwich Islands for a mainland audience, and the East for the West. Ho w&3 to go ahead now by reporting the Old World to the New, and the circum­ stances which gave it birth were to shape the character of The Inno­ cents Abroad.

A shipmate who was ultimately to exert a great influence on

Mark Twain's career was impressed by the young man's "restless, wavering, well-nigh purposeless youth." Mrs. ^ary Fairbanks, the correspondent for the Cleveland Leader who undertook to mother the still somewhat crude youth and to refine the occasional grossness of his writing, rememoered years later that

he was not inflated with expectations on his embarka­ tion and in the early days of the voyage carried him­ self as one who was drifting out to sea, quite indif­ ferent to time, place, or ciroumstanoe. "I am like an old, burned-out craters the fires of my life are all dead within me," he said to a fellow traveler as they walked the deok together. But this was only a youthful cynicism, for he was then little past thirty. 45

Lira. Fairbanks seems to have caut ht Twain In ono of the brief

despondent moods that were already characteristic of him. His

spirits may have been dampened momentarily by the predominantly

sober mien oi his elderly clerical shipmates. Before long, however, he had made himself the center of a congenial group, and Mrs. Fair­ banks observed that his drollery produced bursts of laughter whioh

attracted attention toward Hark Twain's corner of the dining salon,

and which prophesied the tone of his account of the voyage.

These three young men, then, approached Europe with different preconceptions and different expectations. For Adams Europe waa an integral part of his family's experience. Far from being something

strange or wondrous, it was but a step beyond the preoincts of

3oston, and seemed a natural field fbr the expansion of his education and oareer. Even the distrust and dislike of Europe that his father sometimes expressed were born of familiarity rather than fear.

Howells had come by his image of Europe almost entirely through literature; for him the Old World was the home of romance, the bodily presence of the poetic spirit he had known is an attentuated form in the Ohio of his youth. For Twain Europe was hardly an actuality at all. He had none of the sense of familiarity that

Adams inherited; he had less of the romantic literary view than

Howells had. In addition. Twain was thirty-two at the time of the

Quaker City trip; Adams had been twenty and Howells twenty-four when they first saw Europe. At thirty-two Twain already had behind him 46 a varied career as river-boat pilot, miner, and newsman. Ace* experience, and temperament all guarded him from too easy a capitu­ lation to the Old Vorld, CHAPTER III

FIRST JOURNEYS TO EUROPE

I

'.1/hen Henry Adam* went abroad Just after hie graduation from

Harvard, he was ostensibly preparing for a career in law. lie did

indoed find a vocation, although not in the form he had expected;

and perhaps only in Europe could he have discovered precisely the

kind of life he designed for himself.

The outward voyage in September, 1850, had all the possibil­

ities for a delightful larV:. Adams sailed in company with several

classmato3 on the new, fast Cunarder, Persia, and looked forward

eagerly to his first sight of Europe.

Vhother Adams actually experienced all the emotions he recalled

later, we cannot tell, but in The Education he records the over­

whelming sense at Liverpool and Chester of the reality of English

history and literature— a sense to which Henry James later paid memorable tribute in the opening pages of A Passionate Pilgrim and

in Transatlantic Sketches. The trip to London took Adams through

Birmingham and the Black District where for the first time he got a

glimpse of how industrialisation had, in Matthew Arnold's term,

"uglified" the oountryside, and got a first premonition of the

problems a growing capitalism would thrust in the pathway of a career designed according to eighteonth-oentury principles. 48

London ho found grimy, but grand and self-confident; the groat houses soomod insolont with an air of superiority which cast Anoricans and shopkeepers alike into a lower world. In retrrspoct he roalired that the London of the 1850’» was still essentially the London of the eighteenth century, and much as he hated it on this first sight, he could only regret its passing as over the next half century the

1 city became larger, and cheaper, and less imperial,

Aoross the Channol, Antwerp took him back another two centuries:

‘'The taste of the town waa thick, rich, like a sweot wine; it was medieval...; it wns one of the strongest and fullost flavors that over touched tue young man's palate....” Adams "got drunk on lvis omoti jns," and was rescued from this "foreseen dangor of Europe’1 — tlr. 3 willingness to succumb to tho seductions of European antiquity— 2 only by the need to press on to berlin and the university.

So he arrived at Berlin, with a foretaste of European pleasures tiiat promised grontor joys to follow. 'Yilling— i»deed eager— to surrender himself to tho refining influences of Old Yorld charm and culture, convinced that tho University of Berlin was a fountain of learning not to be equalled by Harvard, he arrived late in October,

1853, and set up an apparently modest establishment in a rented room, where he found himself "independent; unknown and unknowing; hating the lanp.uago and yet grubbing into it." In the letters v/hioh he began at once to write to Charles,

Henry may already have had in mind the motive he mentioned on at least one later occasion: to provide a permanent record of the period, in addition to a journal of which there is passing mention 49 bu- no surviving remnant. Certainly the detail and occasional prosiness of these letters suggest that Henry was consciously addressing a possible reading public.

Henry Adams’s first letter home, dated November 3, 185C, leave* no doubt of his sense of good fortune at being in Berlin. Comment­ ing on Charles's remark that the pleasures and pains of life are pretty equally divided, Henry denied the fact "in toto and without hesitation” a" between Charles in Boston and h.msolf in Europe.

".Vhat shall I say of this city?" he writes. ".Yhy, Lord bless my soul, I have got things enough to see and study in this city alone to take me two years even if I know the language and only came for pleasure. The Museums, picture Galleries, Theatres, Gardensj there are enough to occupy one's time for the next six months. Then do the same with the million or so engravings. Lord. Such engrav­ ings l"^ This enthusiasm is offsot by the strictness of his regimen. He must practice the most rigid eoonomy, and devote most of his time to study. Any time not spent at lectures or tutoring he must use in reading--German, Latin, Greek, law, history. His life for the first two months is to be "a continual dig at the language varied occasionally by a moment or so of Art."^

The difficulty of German was, indeed, shortly to become a serious obstacle blocking every avenue. The instruction in civil

Law was entirely by lecture, so that the student needed a thorough knowledge of the language to follow what he could not linger over nor 50 re-peruse* Adams adnitted that of a connected dijcoursoj ho could g catch nothing at all. Social contacts could bo of only the most rudimentary sort without roady uso of a common language. Even the joys of culture were considerably tainted by this handicap, for the thoater soon became a favorite pastime. Perhaps his inability to understand accounted for his irritation when he complained that the

Ionian spoiled Hamlet "for an Englishman.” "The speech, 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother’ begins in the German 'Gnadige

Frau.' The whole thing sounds flat to me ir German,” he wrote 7 Charles in the middle of December.

Adams’s first attack on the problem was to hire a tutor, whom he found expensive even by American standards. Apparently the arrangement was not entirely successful, for we hear little of the tutor, and a groat deal of the continuing difficulties of the lang- uate. A seoond method was even more direct* he would avoid

Americans, and the opportunity to speak English. This measure was only partly successful, since he made almost no acquaintance among

Germans, and continued to spend his evenings with Harvard friends who were in Germany on the Grand Tour. Finally, in January, 1859, virtually in desperation, he enrolled in the Friedrichs-7fl.lhelm

Vferdersches Gymnasium in the Ober-tertia, a class for twelve- and thirteen-year-old boys. Sinoe few exceptions to the rules were made in his favor, and sinoe none of his classmates spoke English, he was forced to hear and speak German for four mornings and several after­ noons in the week. Under this regimen, his German improved steadily. 51 and his command of Latin and Greek grow *■* "wsll, since those 9 languages iwre a large part of the gymnasium curriculum.

This experience brought Henry Adams into hia first direct contact with German life; for the first time he became something more than a visitor on a holiday. Adams was inevitably the target of a rood deal of attention, since he was six or eight years older than the ^rraan boys and a foreigner as well. They delighted in climbing all over him during the brief recess periods and asking n naive questions about America. Vearying of trying to correct their astonishing store of misinformation, he amused himself by filling them up with absurd tales. "In a short time they will really be­ lieve that I am an Indian with two squaws and corresponding papooses and live at home in a wigwam adorned with scalps," he

9 v.xote to Charles Sumner. And while the boys were questioning him,

Henry Adams was looking critically at them, partly out of a curios­ ity fed by their strangeness to his Hew England eyes, and partly to collect details for a magazine article on hia gymnasium experience.

By mid-semester, in April, 1859, Adams felt that he had had enough of Berlin, and that he had learned as much German as he would be likely to learn at the gymnasium. In addition, he began to feel that his instructors there did not like him, although their manner had remained correctly polite.

In the meantime Adams had not found social life as exciting as he had expected. Partly to force himself to speak German, but also from a fastidious desire not to bo a mere tourist, he recoiled from 52

contact v/ith Americans. lie proposed to make such headway with the

language that he could soon make German acquaintances, but his dreams

of social grandeur gave way gradually to the reality of life for an

obscure student in a big city whose language he does not speak. He

was foroed to fall back on the company of Boston friends with whom

ho attended the opera or theater wliilo waiting for Berlin society

to embrace him.

If society vms & disappointment, art and the theator were nnt.

Adams had been met in Berlin by M s sister Louisa, 1,'rs. Charles Kuhn,

who was an irdofatigablo sight-soer, and who lost no time In leading

Henry from gallery to gallery. In his first letter to Charles from

Berlin, ho declared his assurance that he would newer be borod*

"Horn one is surrounded by art, and I defy any one but a foci to

feel ennuyeed while he can look at the rrork of these old masters.

Throughout his stay in Berlin he attended opera, concerts or the theater several times weekly, and never failed to exempt Art from his censure.

Although he briefly thought of permanent exile, by April, 1859,

Henry Adams had come to hate gloomy, inhospitable Berlin, and he

sought sunshine and ease at Dresdon. Both Ben Crowninshleld and

Hick Anderson, Harvard friends, wore located there and appeared to

form the nucleus of just such an American colony as Adams was always

retreating from. His reasons for the move were not clearly defined, perhaps because his rof*sons for being In Germany were rather vague. 53

Ills work had now so diminished that he could carry it on as well at

Dresden as anywhere else.

The trip to Dresden was turned into a holiday walking tour, an uiplanned rajnble on which inns took the place of museums and leoture halls. .Vith several Harvard friends he frankly turned tourist and traveled from one scenic spot to another on foot until the walking t;ot too tiresome, when they proceeded by carriage or rail.**

After this walking tour Adams took a room in a private home at

Dresden and continued M s desultory reading. He did little labor except a fev; pages of Roman law a day, "unless you call long walks on fine afternoons, and talking nonsense with the Fraulein labor.”

The weather and soenery were iimprovements over those of Berlin, and by now he was competent enough in the language to enjoy the company of the family ho lived with. ’.Then he stopped to think about his situation, he realized that it was very pleasant indeed, and sup­ posed that he should appreciate his present happiness fully only after he had returned to a Boston lawyer’s office* 12

In late June Adams and Ben Crowninshiold embarked on a sight­ seeing tour of Bavaria. Free finally from the nagging sense of neglected duty--for he had finally admitted that he would do no real work in Europe and now believed that his time could be no better employed than in travel— he gave himself up to admiration of the picturesque and the antique.

The two went on to Switierland where they met the Kuhns in early August. .71th characteristic disregard of obstacles Louisa 54

proposed to cross into Italy where the Yar of France and Sardinia

with Austria had reached a truce. She led her party over the

St. Gotthard Pass to Milan, where Henry four.d the city "picturesque

with every sort of uniform and every sign of war." The brilliant

uniforms, the gallant and smiling officers, even the flashing gun

barrols soon.ed like bits of oomic opera as he remembered the aoene 14 ~ in The Education.

After crossing the Stelvio Pass to Innsbruck, where he left the

Kuhns, Henry rejoined Crowninshield at Baden for a trip down the

Rhine Valley. In the next several weeks they visited an impressive

list cf cities on the Rhine and in the Low Countriesi Cologne,

Louvain, Brussels, Antwerp, Rotterdam, Haarlem, Hanover, and again

Berlin where Adams was to resume his studies. 1*5

But efforts to settle down to a winter of profitable study in

Berlin were futile. In October Adams finally received notice that he might make his home at Dresden with the family which had provided a home for Lowell. The Herr Hofrath Heinrich Gottlieb Ludwig

Reichenbach was a botanist and geologist in charge of the royal natural history collection* The "Frau Uutter" welcomed Henry into the family where he flirted with the grown daughter and made a oasual companion of the son* He enjoyed life thoroughly, visiting "villages, old churches, graveyards, and pretty walks and views" with young

Reichenbach and limiting his work to "light desultory reading" in

German, and to riding and fencing lessons whloh now took up fully half his time* He seems also to have taken up gambling in a small way, for 55

h© assured. Charles of the Innocence of his play at rouge et nolr* and

in liarch noted the dosing of the gambling shop in the Prater Stress© 16 as marking the end of winter*

In the summer of I860* Henry Adams made a vacation trip through

Bavaria* Austria* and Italy. Traveling alone* he visited Vienna*

Venice* Bologna* Rome* Naples and Palermo* and reported his adven­

tures in a series of letters which he forwarded to Charles to pub­

lish or not as the latter saw fit. Charles placed the letters in

The Boston Dally Courier* where they appeared over the initials*

"H.B.A." The letters were undoubtedly a concession to Charles's

insistence that Henry do something useful* for Henry had persistently

asserted his unfitness for popular Journalism and had insisted on the

ephemeral quality of such work. Like his letters on the gymnasium

experience* these dispatohes are based on considerable immediate

observation which oould be worked up without any very extensive

research. They give considerable space to the picturesque and the

unusual* and are frankly impressionistic rather than profoundly

informed. Adams know the general political situation between Austria

and Italy* but was most interested in the visible effects of the war.

At NapleB* Adams found the area in a groat uproar* for

Garibaldi had Just made a daring contribution to Italian unification by invading Sicily with his Thousand and securing Palermo for Italian nationalism. Adams was able to go to Palermo through the help of

Joseph R. Chandler* Amerloan Minister to the Kingdom of the Two 56

Sicilies, who devised a mission for the young traveler by sending him 17 off with dispatohes for the American sloop of war, Iroquois.

Palermo was naturally in a good deal of disorder; armed men still patrolled the streets, and civilians forced from their homes joined the invading soldiers in celebrating Italian unity. At first glance the whole scene was romantically exciting and varied:

Here I was at last, then, face to face with one of the great events of our day. It was all perfect; there was Palermo, the insurgent Sicilian city, with its barricades, and its ruined streets with all the marks of war. There was that armed and howling mob in the square below, and the music of the national hymn, and the five revolutionary cannon. There were the guerrilla captains who had risked their lives and fortunes for something that the worst envy oould not call selfish. And there was the great dictator, who when your and my little hopes and ambitions shall have lain in our graves a few centuries with us, will still be honored as a hero, and perhaps half worshipped--who knows I-- for a God.18

But before he had seen in Palenno a week, "it grew stupid there," and he oomplained of the lack of society and amusements.

Returning to Naples, he headed northward to Rome and Paris. Vte have only the unreliable evidence of The Education that he "squandered two or three months on Paris," for the letters of that time deal with another problem. His European Wands rj ah re were over; he turned home­ ward in the autumn of I860.

If the European experience had succeeded in giving Henry Adams a reserve of power that would show itself slowly but radically, it had nevertheless failed to solve the immediate problem of a career.

The initial exeroises in journalism had been satisfactory, but hardly 57 so successful *3 to warrant the claim that he was launched on hie life's work* To become a lawyer, he m>uld still need several years of study in an offioe, and while his letters throughout his stay in

Europe reiterate his intention to stay with the law, he did not move with determination to pursue his object. If he was passive while squandering his time in Paris, the family had been at work in suoh a way as to relieve him of the deoiaion, and indeed, to force his hand. In July, 1860, he wrote his mother a letter from Paris which is alntost pathetic in its acceptance of the will of Fate in the persona of his fhmilyt "Charles writes me a plan"— and one suspects that Charles not only communicated, but proposed, the plan— "accord­ ing to which I should study law in Washington and stay with you always," '.Vashington, he had no doubt, would be as pleasant as any­ where else, and was undoubtedly the place that his education had best suited him for* But events beyond his control, and indeed almost beyond his knowledge, were shaping his career, and the decision to remain with his parents delayed indefinitely— and indeed, fatally— the consunnation of his legal training,

Charles Francis Adams had been elected Congressman on the

Republican ticket in 1858 and seemed oertain of re-election in I860.

Henry, writing from abroad, took a proprietary interest in his father's oareer as a kind of family project. In November, 1859, he urged Charles to patienoe in the growing slavery crisis, for ho be­ lieved that the quiet election of the moderate Seward to the presi­ dency would offset the influence of the radios Is and renew the lease 58

on life of tht house of Adams* By now ha was raady to talc# up with

his brothars and M s father, the family burdan of laadarshipt "Our

poopla ara educated anough lntallaotually but it's damned superfi­

cial and only makas them mors wi11 fulj our taslc so far as we attempt

a public work, is to blow up sophistry and jam down hard on ■ 19 morality." While ha still vacillated over the oholoa of a oaraar,

the daoislon was shaping itself, and by the time ha left Europe in

Ootober, I860, Henry Adams knew that ha had work to do.

Ha returned home, than, his original goal of reaohlng a knowl­

edge of the oivil law hardly closer than it had bean whan ha had

left Boston two years earlier. But ha had not yet learned the

artistio value of labeling eaoh stage in his eduoatlon a failure,

and ha i ns is tad— perhaps too much— that his two years had bean, and probably would remain, the bast spent of his life. Ha had had a

ohanoe to learn French and German, to sea the sights of Germany, and

Switzerland, and Austria, and Italy, and Franoe, to oollaot a few engravings, to discover how homesiok one oould gat for Quinoy and

Boston, to compare Europe with America, and to see at first hand the struggle of benighted Europe to move into the path left shining with the luminous footprints of America. He had begun to discern the shape of a career consonant with the Adams tradition. With his

father and his brothers he would devote his superior moral and in­ tellectual powers to the creation of an aristocracy of virtue which would guide "our people" and "Jam down hard on morality."

The career got under way almost at once, for shortly after hla 59

return to Jknerioa# Henry Adams vent to Washington to become private

secretary to his father# who had just been eleoted to a seoond term

as Congressman from the Third Massachusetts Congressional Distriot*

From the moment of his arrival in Washington he was aware of M the historic character of the soene--one must be far more naive than

Adams later pretended he had been to miss that— -and his sense of the

enduring interest of the great events developing before him impelled

him to write a series of letters which# a century or two henoe

"might still be read and quoted as a memorial of manners and habits 20 at the time of the great secession of I860.* But his correspondence with Charles was slighted# for he soon made an arrangement with the

Boston Dally Advertiser for a series of letters reporting the affairs

of Congress* These letters were neoessarily anonymous beoause of

Henry's d o s e association with his father# and beoause his sources

of information might have failed him had his use of Informal com­ ment been known* In spite of one or two scares# the anonymity was preserved throughout the series of letters from early in December to the middle of February* when the editor of the Advertiser took over

the job himself on his arrival in Washington for Lincoln's inaugura­ tion* Adams then turned his energies to writing an article summar­ ising the entire period* imder the title* "The Great Secession

Winter of 1860-61*” Designed fbr The Atlantic Monthly, this artiole seemed to Henry unpublishable# and it remained in manusorlpt imtll

1910.21

In May* 1861* he sailed for Big land as private seoretary to his father* whose mission was to be one of the most delioate in the 60 history of the diplomatic service. Abraham Lincoln had appointed

Charles Francis Adams Minister to the Court of St. ^ames*

As private secretary, Henry Adams was neither in nor out of the Legationi his position was unofficial and unremunerated. But

In the absenoe of any official with whoa the Minister could discuss his most intimate doubts and fears, Charles Francis Adams made a confidant of his son* In addition the son unofficially took on the duties of an assistant secretary*

Thus Henry Adams was again abroad, but under oiroumstanoes rastly different from those of his student tour from 1858 to I860*

As en moffioial member of the Minister's family, he had sooial status, and henoe had aooess to the homes of fashionable and offi­ cial London* His acquaintance was no longer limited to servants or to lower middle-class landlords. Hence the restraint of living with his family was compensated for by his greater freedom of movement in society* In addition, he oould speak the language of the country, and he no longer plagued himself with German. Since the position was unofficial, he had no pressing responsibilities and had leisure for travel, for study, and for writing* Cbe diffloulty in his situation was the uncertainty of his tenure. His father was not oertain that he wanted to serve for all of Idnooln's administration, and even had he planned to do so, it was not imperative that Henry stay with him* Moreover, no one expected the war to last for more than a few months* For a time Hsnry o ha fed wider his London duties) he planned several times to return to the United States and get a 61

oonmission In the Union Airmy as Charles had done. Finally* he per­

mitted himself to be persuaded that he was more useful in London

as a support to his fat lie r than he would be in Jmerloa as a

lieutensuit o f cavalry.

To make his influence felt. Henry Adams arranged to act as

London correspondent for the Hew York Times. His artioles were necessarily anonymous beoause of his oonneotion with the Legation.

While he carefully--end usually skillfully— oonoealed his identity

and his souroes of information, he did undoubtedly abuse his privi­

leges as a member of the Minister's family, and used confidential

sources of information more freely than was prudent. Like his

Washington dlspatohes to the Boston Advertiser in the great secession winter, these letters were designed not only to report events to the publio and form a record of the times, but also to influenoe opinion and events, specifically by explaining and Justifying his father's polioies. Besides these newspaper reports. Henry oontinued his flow of letters to Charles. Having no need to respeot British sensibilities in these letters. Henry poured out to his brother all the bitterness that must be suppressed in published aooounts.

Fear that his anonymity might be penetrated and that the Minister would be embarrassed led Adams to disoontimue his letters to the

Hew York Times early in 1862. For a time he fovmd business enough in the affairs ef the Legation to keep him oocupled. but as the great orises passed and the Union entered the relatively tranquil 62

period of it* relation* with Britain in 1863, Adam* found himself

less thoroughly occupied* Both his ardent patriotism and his friend­

ship with the English Radicals who had been the earliest and truest

friends of the North led him to the study of John Stuart Mill and

de Tocqueville, whom he celled "the tw> high priests of our faith,"

and who led him to study the "philosophic standing of our republio"

and "the advance of the demooratio prlnolple in European civilisation."

De Tocqueville he had learned to think of as his model, and he studied his life and works "as the gospel of my private religion*"^

Indeed his study of "the philosophio standing of our republic" begeui to suggest a solution to his old problem of a career, for he added, in the same letter to Charles,

The great prinolple of demooraoy is still oapable of rewarding a conscientious servant* And I doubt me muoh whether the advance of years will increase my toleration of its faults* Henoe I think I see in the distance a vague and unsteady light in the direotion toward whloh I needs must gravitate, so soon as the present disturbing lnfluenoes are removed*2*

The disturbing lnfluenoes were not to be removed for another five years, but before his return home in 1868 he had begun--or rather extended— his work as a oonsolentious servant of the great principle of democracy*

In none of his ventures into journalism was Henry trying to beoome just a newspaperman* In virtually every instance— with the exoeption* perhaps, of his letters from the southern trip in

Europe in 1860— his writing for the papers was a means of influencing public policy* After affairs at the Legation had passed the crises 65 of 1661 and 1862, In tho months vhan only waiting oould bring the war to tho ouooooaful and that now aootnod aaaurod and indeod lada- ant, Henry Adams thought more dlrootly of Amerloan polities. Ho lingered with his family in London for months that beoaae years, apparently beoause there appeared no good opportunity to assume the role ho foresaw as serrant of democracy. But his letters to Charles increasingly referred to eleotions, policies, and prospeots. Bren though abroad, he found that he could make a contribution once again by writing.

One example of his journalism with a politioal mo tire was a study of Captain John Smith whioh was published in the Horth Amerioaa 24 Herlew of January 1667, Carefully comparing two rersions of

Smith's story of his rescue by Feoahontas with other oonteoporary reoords, and using considerable skill In surmising the relationships of the men inrolred, Adams was able to throw a good deal of doubt an Smith's reraoity. As an exercise in the use of doouments, the projeot was both amusing and raluable for the young politioal journalist. But more than that, Adams saw the artlole as a "flank attack" cm the Virginia aristocracy and as a contribution to the prestige of the Union and to the further humiliation of the already defeated South. Adams seems to have been oonrinoed of the sucoess of his wo sic when the arti ole brought the expected cries of anguish from the Virginia Historical Society.

Two other axtioles of the time proposed to make a more direct contribution to the health of American democracy. Beoognising the orltloal importance of finance in the country* s recovery from the 64

Civ'll Nhr# Adams turned to British history for instructive parallels*

In two long* carefully prepared articles also published in the North

American B a r l o w , Adams outlined the experience of Kigland in restor­ ing financial soundness after the unpreoedented strains of the

Napoleonio ffars. In "British Finance in 1816" he described the ohaos

Into which revenues and expenditures had fallen in twenty-three years 2fi of intermittent war* Piecemeal and haphaiard levying of taxes# he fbund* had allowed the growth of a system of overlapping excise taxes which were costly to collect and impossible to aooount for*

In addition# a system of protective tariffs which attempted te shelter every British product howwver trivial or however inefficiently pro­ duced encouraged smuggling. The tariffs thus increased prloes only to enrioh the smugglers end protected industries* without yielding a commensurate amount of revenue* Finally* with a taxation structure so oomplex that no single person could oomprehend or oontrol it* armies of oivil servants oould manipulate parts of the system to preserve their own useless jobs* ■ -26 In The Bank o f England Restriction* 1797-1316" showed how the apparently headleng dash of British finance towards collapse was arrested by sound money pelioies controlled by the Bank of

England* Analysing figures on currency olroulation and bullion deposits fbr the period of the Napoleonio Nhrs* Adams showed that the suspension of speeie payments in fi^land had not aotually been aooom- paaied by any uncontrolled issue of bank paper# as might appear from a superficial inspection of figures* The Bxohequer* rather* had 65

skillfully used a variety of loans and Exchequer bills while at the

sane time the Bank had Issued paper only in amounts regulated by the

actual volume of commeroe. These policies* Adams affirmed* had per­

mitted the resumption of specie payments aftsr 1816* and has so far

restored soundness to the growing British economy that a thorough

reform and simplifloation of the antiquated finance structure inheri­

ted from Pitt became possible* whereas the situation had appeared

beyond all comprehension and reform but a few years earlier*

Adams did not directly suggest la these articles that they were

intended as guides to American Treasury officials and Cengresamen*

but the appositeness of the experiences related was unmistakeable in

1867* In private letters Adams did not attempt to disguise his

ulterior purpose* Even before he embarked for the United States in

1368* Henry Adams had a running start on the oareer he envisioned as

servant to his native demooracy*

ffhlle diplomacy and British politios combined to make Henry

Adams a more ardent patriot and a more outspoken democrat than he

was at any other time of his life* other influences were at work in

oontrary directions* His sooial life* unlike diplomacy* led him

deeper into fi^lish lifs*

Cmoe introduoed at Court* the Minister's family were eligible

for entrance into London oooietyi the round of invitations due the

representative of a friendly nation began at once* and Henry reported the "Governor" to be in the hands of the "usual crowd of eld buffers*"

These imitations naturally came from those dose to the government* M

the affairs war* Marked by a formality that mas at onoe charac­ teristic of London sooiety and emphasised by tha prevalently

Confaderata sympathies of ruling olro1.es.

Henry* too* had hit difficulties* whioh lasted soma two years* until tha ear turned in favor of tha Union* Thera was no real laok of amusements} ha attended tha raoas* tha opera* Christy's Minstrels* and endless dinners* breakfasts* and balls* With hie sister ha mui riding in Rotten Roe* at tha fashionable hour of twelve* as a felloe secretary melloiously noted* to avoid mingling with lawyers and their clerks at five* What he lacked was relaxed contact with congenial minds* Gradually* however* Eenry Adams made his way into an intimate circle*

Probably tha warmest friend of the Adams family was Monokton

Milnes* Lord Ecrughton. It was at Fryston* his estate in Yorkshire* that the Minister received the news of the Trent affair in November*

1861* and there it was that Henry Adams began to gain intimate friends a little over a year later* In December* 1862* he Joined a

"very Jelly little baoheler party" there on an occasion described in a memorable passage In The Eduoatlon* and met Laurence Oliphant*

Sterling of Keir* and Algernon Swinburne* young men of wit and wide interests* By early spring he had decided that his field was "among

English politicians and writers*" . . . "men like Hughes and his as 27 associates* the cultivated radicals of England*" In the spring of

1665* he was eleoted to the St. Jams's* a diploaaatic olub* under the aegis of Mil nos * Th oms Hughes* and Oliphant. Thereafter his way 67 was pleasanter, although eight months later, in a fit of self-pity, he oould growl that friends he had none, and sooiety he knew not, and that his friends must he men of no politioal oonneotions, for

"in Europe a democrat is newer and newer can be really reoeived inte 28 the circle of monarchists."

In the meantime he had formed one of the lasting friendships of his life. At Sir Henry Holland's breakfast table in April, 1865, he met Charles Ullnes Gaskell, cousin of konolrton Milnes and son of

James Milnes Gaskell, member ef Parliament for Wenlock In Shropshire.

Young Gaskell was a Cambridge vmdergraduate, interested in art and letters and politics. By August, Henry was on sufficiently intimate terns with him to be writing him familiar letters whose insouciant gaiety c entreats strikingly with the almost polemioal gravity of his letters to his brother. Henry Adams was received as a frequent visitor of the Gaskell household at Thornes in Yorkshire, and later at Yfonleok in Shropshire. There he became closely acquainted with

Sir Robert Cunllffe and with Franols Turner Palgrawe, whose recently published Golden Treasury represented the taste in poetry of the ftigllsh-speaking world.

These new friendships must have had a tremendous Impaot on the young Adams, and. In spite of his ardent and often unreasoning patriotism, must have shaken him loose from his provincial moorings.

Vlonokton Milnes, twenty-nine years older than Adams, reforming member of Parliament and minor poet, and soon to be first Baron

Houghton, was an outspoken supporter of the Union whose oonfldenoe in 68

the North never wavered. His collection of erotic books* and his

Interest in suoh esoterio subjects as sadism and flagellation may veil

have disturbed a yoiag New Englander* Milnes had long helped rising

young authors* and at the time Adams beoame acquainted with him* was

fostering Algernon Charles Swinburne ef whose fantastic* wide-

ranging conversation, Adams himself has left the beat record in

The Education. Laurenoe Oliphant* also of the 1862 party at Fryston*

had just returned from Japan where his diplomatic career had been

out short by a night attack on the Legation* an affair which almost

cost Oliphant his life. His earlier travels in Ceylon* the Contin­

ent* the Near East* North America, and China oast Adams's brief

Journeys into a romantic shade. He had already earned his reputa­

tion as a brilliant conversationalist* and was soon to edit the Owl*

London organ of young men of slightly preoious literary inclinations*

But the olosest and most enduring of these friendships was that

with Charles Milnes G*skell. Perhaps as Adams later remarked* 29 "intimates are predestined"i at any rate the two young men quiokly

disoovexed the congeniality of their temperaments and the similarity

of their interests. TO.thin four months Adams was bombarding his

English friend with letters whose increasingly intimate tone is

epitomised in their saluationst "My dear Gask*” "Caro amico mio”

(from Rosie)* and "Caro Carlissino."

Nothing mare clearly dramatises the growing cleavage in Adams's personality than the contrast between his letters to his brother and those to Gaskell. To his brother he wrote naturally of family 69

matters* but* to an Adams* family matters were always identified

with serious national concerns* Their father's oareer* the course

of Amerloan diplomacy* the fate of the Union* the philosophical

bases of democracy* and their own careers of servloe beoams finally

one topic in these sober* patriotic* morallstio epistles. The

letters to Charles leolc backwards* er at any rate westward* te

America* They typify Henry's New England family heritage of high

morality dedioated to public serrloe* of an aristocracy of worth

conscious both of its moral superiority and of its consequent poli­

tical responsibilities*

The letters to Qaakell are charged with an exuberant gaiety*

There Is an almost conscientious aroidanoe of serious topicsj the two correspondents form a community of superior souls dedicated to

the cultivation of their own taste and whimsy* Private jokes and esoterlo allusions to fashionable company fill these pages whose very effervescence may be the product of affections long denied an uninhibited release* His correspondence with Gaskell embodies the attractive aspects of the European experience! stimulation of art and Intellect* the pleasure of polite sooiety* the sense of super­ iority without responsibility*

Henry Adams's informal connection with the legation made it possible for him to get away for travel rather often* Moreover* he could easily be "detaohed" for field service— that is* guiding his mother* brother* and sister about the Continent. Between 1662 and

1668 he visited Paris several times* Copenhagen* Scotland* and the 70

Isle of Skye, Wales, Italy twice, Gannasy twice, and Switzerland,

Luxembourg, and Belgium. On these jaunts he was frankly the tourist, less fascinated now by oathedrale and art museuns than he had been

In 1858, less awe-strioken by novel soenes and historical associa­ tions, but nore blasA, more philosophical.

His opinion of various countries remained remarkably constant.

Italy he remembered always with affection. Roam before 1870 was

"eduoation beyond resistance..•.the only spot that the young...pas­ sionately, perversely, wickedly loved."*® The layers of history were visible idiere the Forum bordered the Renaissanoe city, and where the nineteenth century seemed never to have penetrated. In

Italy he could muse on the past, in a country without present er future. Eaoh new view of Germany renewed his old sense of its gloom and oppression. In 1867 he wrote Charles that he detested the German rot about nationality, and found himself inclining toward Franoe.

On other oocasions he reoorded his abhorrence of France, and espec­ ially of Paris. Not isstil 1605 was he to find his seoond home in

Paris,

For London he never oonfessed a love. Bren when the worst irri­ tation of British hostility had worn off and the fully*s fears for the Union had subsided, he found that London never seemdd "to allow any homelike feelings, I never quit it even for an afternoon at

Richmond or a Sunday at Walton, without feeling a sort of shudder at returning, to be struck as freshly as ever with the solemnity, the 71

gloom, the squalor and the horrible misery and degradation that seem

to me to brood over the plaoe."^ Yet at other times he had expressed

eagerness to return there* Willy-nilly, it had become home, and

elsewhere he oould not really come to rest* When the time oame to

leave for Boston in 1666* he found that he oould go only with regret*

In his private letters Adams never ceased to revile the English

people for their stupidity, insularity, and vanity; yet he knew that he himself was involuntarily adopting an English manner* As his own

outlook had broadened, he had dropped one by one the provincial

limitations of his New England baokgrotund. He oould not exchange

them for new restrictions, nor oould he bring himself to a real cos­ mopolitanism. The result, he recognized, was that he was no longer

able to enjoy Amerioa or Europe* By the end of ten years spent

largely abroad, he was forever homeless*

Henry Adams, as we have seen, sought a career in Europe, and he did in fact ultimately disoover there the theme that was to dominate his thinking for as long as he can properly be said to have had a oareer* His early experience in England, coming as it did in a time

of friction between Great Britain and the United States— and, in the best tradition of the Adams family, placing him near the center of

great affairs— made of Adams a self-conscious defender of Aoerloan democracy* He was impelled first to defend his father's conduct as

Ambassador to Great Britain; than he turned to Justifying the position of the Union in the Civil War; to strengthen his defense he studied the theoretical bases of the Amor loan experiment la democratic govern- 72 mentj and finally he conceived a role for himself as oonscienoe and guide to an errant American dssiooreoy* Whether he ultimately per­ formed this role as journalist, reformer, teacher, or historian* his underlying motive sas constant i to foster and guide a new kind of life for mankind* This call to a duty whioh permitted him to perpetuate the family tradition of responsibility, and to satisfy the demands which that tradition made upon him. was chiefly the result of his nearly ten years in Europe*

II

We can only speculate as to what might have been the conse­ quences had Howells got the oonsular post he sought at Ifunioht he was still in his Heine phase, and wanted to oontinue his study of the German language and literature. But oiroimstanoes finally plaoed S2 him at Venice early in Linooln's administration.

The journey to his station became, like the first journey to

Boston, something of a pilgrimage. Leaving the United States early in November. 1861. he traveled to Venice by an overland route diotated by a desire to visit points of literary Interest and to see the plaoes long familiar to him in his reading. But in fi^land. predisposed though he was to be pleased, he found British sentiment prevailingly sympathetic to the South. "I felt so bitter toward the

English." he wrote to his sister in recalling his feelings two months later, "that I was glad to get out of fegland. where I was constantly insulted by the most brutal exultation of our national misfortunes."** 75

And lxi a letter to hie father’s paper* he claimed that England m i 34 inhabitated by "an abominable people" since the Trent affair* This

first* unpleasant impression of the English at home mas to bo rein­

forced by his glimpses of the English traveler whom he found to be

selfish* proud* and boorish*

He paused hardly at all in France* but pushed on to Germany*

talcing what was then the only all-rail route to Venice* He paused

briefly in several German citiest at Stuttgart he spent a day and

made a side trip to Schiller's blrthplaoe at Marbach* stopped over­

night at Munich* stayed two days in Vienna* and finally orossed the

mountains by rail to Trieste and Venice*®®

A delay of several months in the arrival of off leal certifica­

tion of his appointment forced Howells to stand by while his prede­

cessor continued to exercise the consular offlee and to receive its 56 salary* During this time Howells was free to roam the old city

wwd to revel In its mouldering antiquity and pioturesque raggedness*

When his exequatur did arrive and he finally took up the duties of

his of floe* he found his time hardly more oocupled* He oould still

devote most of every day to sight-seeing and to study of Italian*

The Civil Her had reduoed American shipping activity to a somnolent

port like Venioe to almost nothing* so that only an oooasional ship

or traveler interrupted the oonsul's studyt throughout his stay in

Venice* even after his marriage in December of 1662 and after the birth o f his first daughter a year later* he had little to disturb

his solitude* 74

And solitude it was, for although Howells remained in Venice

four years he was never really taken into the native society of the

city* In the first place, the dlmostratione of the Italians against

the occupying Austrian foroes had virtually killed social life* The 37 Venetians entertained but little, attended the opera only rarely

and then incognito, and even stayed out of sight during the Austrian band oonoerts in the Piazza San Maroo* Howells's official scruples

over identifying himself publicly with either the Austrians or the

Venetians may also have led the Venetians to distrust his sympathies,

although what friends he had were Italians* In addition, on Howells's

own testimony at least, the Italians were not much inclined to enter­ tain even in normal times, for friends would be much likelier to meet at their oustotnary cafes than to invite one another to their homes* And the foreigner who had learned Italian was abashed to

find that even in the moat cultivated sooiety, the Venetian dialect SB was spoken." With these handicaps it is not surprising that

Howells made no more friends than he did* He has left us a record of bub half-a-dozen friends with only one of whom was he ever on really

intimate terms•

With characteristic frugality, Howells turned all these acquaint­ ances to good use* In addition to their appearanoes in the travel books, they serve as prototypes for a number of characters in Howells's

fiotion little altered, to judge by oomparing the pictures given in the novels with the allegedly factual aooounts of the travel writing.

As a single example, Don Ippollto of A Foregone Conclusion is quite 75

clearly based on the priest sketohed in "A Year in a Venetian

Palaoe."®®

His tins was largely free* then* for study* writing* and travel*

Enlisting the services of a priest who knew fegllsh fairly well* he began to master Italian by reading Dante* So well did the work

progress* that Howells was soon able to move ahead under his own

power and in the several remaining years of his residenoe in Venioe* he became at least acquainted with many recent Italian poets and dramatists* and familiar with a few*

Howells*s living arrangements introduced him to at least two patterns of Venetian life* For the first year of his consulship* he oooupled bachelor quarters and dined at various restaurants* In this way he gained a fhmiliarity with one kind of Venetian life whloh might otherwise have been unknown to him* After his marriage the couple set up housekeeping* neoessarily in the Italian manner* in part of the Casa Falier* a Renaissance palace on the Grand Canal

reputed to b e — but aotually not— the birthplace of Marino Falier©*

With the rooms came the servioes of Giovanna* a cook and maid whose office it was to run the Howells establishment like an upper-olass

Italian household* A year and a half later the family moved to the

Falaxzo Giuetinianl on the west side of the Grand Canal to escape* as Howells pretended* the increasing vmstefulness and imeffloienoy of

Giovanna* There they remained until they left for Boston in July of

1866 *

At first Howells used consular business as an exouse to travel* 76

In March, 1862, ho visited Richard Hildreth, the historian, who was consul at Trieste# At this time Howells seemed to be sort interested in maintaining oontact with American literary men than in seeing

Italy, and only later was he to travel to gather material for his writing# Thus he was delighted to be visited by his superior, the

United States Minister at Vienna, John Lothrop Motley, who was "of •40 that literary Boston which mainly represented Anerlcan literature#"

In the spring of 1662 he was visited by Charles Hale of the Boston

Advertiser and in 1863 by Moncure D. Conway and Henry Ward Bee©her#

In April, 1863, Howells and his wife visited Larkin Mead, Mrs.

Howells's brother, who was studying architecture at glorenoe#

It is probable that even had he not been a writer, Howells would have traveled in Italy, but the need for material for his pen undoubtedly further stimulated his traveling and to a large extent determined the itinerary# In the sumner of 1863, for example, the oouple made two short trips to Arqul, to visit Petraroh's house# In

March, 1864, they made a ten-day tour to Lombardy and in September, a brief trip to Bassano# A two-month's leave late in 1864 made possible an extended Journey that Included Ferrara, Bologna, Genoa, Blba,

Haples, Capri, Pompeii, and a stay of almost a month in Rome# The return trip led through Civlta Vecohia, Grossetto, Pisa, and probably

Genoa#** Just before the oouple departed for the United States, they made a brief visit to Howells's earliest friend, G. Antonio

Tortorini, at his country estate near Padua# All of these travels duly made their appearance in Howells's writings# 77

Those writings did not develop in Just the way that Howells had

planned* W» hare already suggested that he made a clear distinction between "literature," which was ineffably above the ommoonplaoe, and mere Journalism# which he had long practised to make a living* And

his earliest efforts were dirooted toward literature# which is to

say# toiard poetry* He had already been encouraged by several

aooeptanoes from the Atlantic Monthly* and# as he later rooalled#

"the literary intention was present with me at all tiroes and In all ip plaoes." He wrote verse diligently# and submitted it to a variety

of magazines; with but few exceptions, his contributions were 45 returned* So few wore the exceptions that Howells soon realized

that a oareer of authorship on so reduoed a soale would be no career

at all* But he was determined to be a man of letters, of whatever

sort* and he fell beak on the prose sketoh that his ample apprentice­

ship in newspaper work had taught him so wo 11 to write*

He had already done travel letters to keep up his inoome be­ tween regular newspaper Jobs* In the summer of 1800 he wrote two

simultsuaeous series of sketches based on his trip to Canada and Hew

England for the Ohio State Journal and for the Cincinnati Qasette# both of which he had served while in Columbus* Indeed it had seemed

a perfeotly natural continuation of his oareer to produce a few

travel letters on the eastward voyage* The Ohio State Journal

oarried three Howells letters in January* 1862* describing his ooeam orosslmg* his brief sightseeing in Kngland* and a part of his passage

across the Continent* and the Ashtabula Sentinel* in addition to re­ 78 printing these Items, oarried two later letters. On his arrival In

Venioe, hevrever, he had laid this Icind of work aside, apparently to devote himself wholly to higher-minded literary endeavors. When his hope for substantial recognition as a poet faded, he had a resource which, though soorned fbr a time, was to prove his literary salvation, and he began a series of sketches giving a detailed, literal acoount of his life in Venioe,

His recognition of literary possibilities in this kind of sketch is shown by his submitting them to the Atlantic Monthly, But they wore rejected there. After waiting nine months for a decision, he submitted the accumulated sketches to the Boston Advertiser and, when they were aooepted, added others to extend the series. When ultim­ ately he gathered the sketches to form Venetian Life, he was able to make a book of them with little revision,** His disappointment at rejection by the Atlantio was softened by an enthusiastic letter from Lowell, who on seeing them in the Advertiser, wrote that he had been "o harmed" by Howells*s admirable letters which he had found "the most careful and picturesque study I have ever seen on any part of

Italy," Thus Howells's perception of literary value in the news­ paper letters was confirmed by the high*rt authority.

The real significance of these letters in Howells's oareer is that they cured him almost completely of his romantic preoccupation with the ethereal, the foggy, and the preoious, and directed him toward the painstakingly minute realism that characterizes his later fiotion. In Venetian Idfe Howells stated his distinctive purpose in 79 writing hla tiavel sketches <

I was raaolrad in writing this book to tall what I had found moat books of travel slow to tell*--as much as possible of the everyday life of a people whose habits are so different from our own* endeavoring to develop a Just notion of their character* not only from the show traits srtiioh strangers are most likely to see, but also from experienoe of suoh things as strangers are most likely to miss**®

The traveler writer's relationship to his audienoo compels him to write in a photographic manner* The author oannot assume that his reader has ever seen the plaoe to be described* or anything like it* indeed* his very act of writing is predicated upon the reader's com­ plete ignorance of the soene* Hence the traveler must effect a full realization of the building* the landscape* the ooetxaee, the person* he produces the object before the eyes of the reader instead of merely suggesting its presence or alluding to it* The traveler* of oourse* can do this kind of writing as the native never can* for he brings to the soene his sense of the difference of a foreign land from his own and his readers' oountry* Both Lowell in 1866 and

H. H. Boyesen many years later reoognlsed that Howells1 s very recent derivation from the West made him particularly sensitive to the 47 strangeness of the Old World*

YVien Howells returned to the United States he had the advantage of settling in Boston* which had still a novelty to his eyes. Both his western youth and his stay in Italy had sharpened his perception of what was unique and characteristic in Boston's suburbs* The resem­ blance hs subject matter* method* and tone between Venetian Life and 80

Suburban Sketches of four years later la at onoa evident* and Thair

Vlad ding Journey of 1871 is still essentially a set of travel sketches*

Howells himself recognised the value of residence abroad when he re­ viewed Henry James's A Passionate Pllgrimt

The American who has known Europe much oan never again see his country with the single eye of his old ante- European days* For good or for evil the light of the Old World is always on her face* and his fellow countrymen have their shadows oast by it**..There may be no compensation In it for the loss of tranquil in­ difference to Europe which untraveled Americans feel* or it may be the very mood in whloh an American may best understand his fellow-Americans

By the time he had published three books# all of them non-fiction* all of them indeed essentially travel books* acute observation of detail that would be passed over by the person long familiar with the soene had become a settled habit which left its mark on all his subsequent pages* Howells had gone abroad to seek an artist's de- taohment* and he had inadvertently found it* although in a way he had not expected* To write of his own country he needed a viewpoint 4Q somewhat removed from inmediate attachment to it*

The "Letters from Venice" to the Boston Advertiser Howells col­ lected and published in 1866 with minor revision as Venetian Ljf«»

The book was well reoeived by reviewers* and its sales* while modest* continued for many years* It remains today a book which In its readability excels most similar work of its time* This favorable reception and readability oan be explained by several characteristics of the work*

First* since Howells wrote as a settled— albeit temporary— 81 resident o f the city, the book is free from the sense of breathless rushing forward to Keet railroad schedules and to crowd all the great sights into the few hours allotted to a particular city* In an early chapter Howells desoribes the establlshMnt of his household shortly aftor his marriage. This event gives him an opportunity to intro­ duce much detail on Italian housekeeping and family life and to defer from page to page the description of the great and fhmous sights te which he must oome at last. In addition he establishes and develops the character of Giovanna, the Venetian maid, who shortly becomes a more fully realised personality than most presented in earlier travel writing. Thus the reader has a position, a home, in Venioe, and at the end of each chapter he oan share the author's repose between forays into the life of the elty. The vantage point is often that of the palasso windows, so that the reader leoks out over the Grand

Canal to watch the Venetian pageant drift by.

This sense of residence is enhanced by the author's very evident familiarity with the externally visible aspects of Venetian life.

By 1861 Howells had developed great skill in making the soene before his eyes visible on his pages, and he reproduoed the surfaoe of

Italian life oarefully. This effeot is produoed in part by the un­ hurried quality we have mentioned and in part by Howells's concen­ trating on the near at hand and the oosnonplaoe. In introducing his chapter on "Housekeeping in Venice," he says almost apolegetioally,

"I trust the reader will not disdain the lewly-mlnded muse that sings this mild doMstio lay."®0 Howells moves from a description of Venioe 82 under the Austrian oooup&tlon a* it appears to the reoent arrival, to an account of his first rambles about the city. The soene is presented impressionistically} that is, the author does not take care to identify all the famous landmarks he mentions or to move about the city systematicallyi what little history he uses is unob­ trusive. The quiet voioe of the narrator sounds with a dying fall through a prose of dignified oadenoe so that a whole passage beoomes a sigh of the sweet melancholy that overtakes a young Westerner oome home to the Old World.

Little genre sketohes are inserted occasionally to bring the picturesque lowly life of Venioe before the reader*s eye. An old man roasting ooffee in the court behind Howells*s lodgings had nthe »51 dignity of a senator, harmonised with the squalor of a beggar,

the young author "was troubled by the aesthetic perfection of a certain ruffian boy, who sold cakes of baked Indian-meal to the 52 soldiers." In his own phrase, he "rioted sentimentally on the picturesque ruin, the pleasant disoomfort and hopelessness of every thing about me hereThus Howells oan discredit his sentimental vaporings, but only after he has had the benefit of them*

Similarly, he disposes of the "sentimental errors".• ."which,•. form a large part of every one*s associations with the name of

Venice."®* He speaks of the Bridge of Sighs, for example, as "that pathetio swindle"} but while he smkes his bow to truth, he still gets the advantage of the picturesque legend in his pages. 88

ffhen later Ho "el la turns to the obligatory task of rsoordlng

monuments and "Cfcjeots of Interest" (the derogatory capitalisation

is his) he still alternates the guidebook Material with familiar

observation so that the reader never aucoumbs to the feeling that he

is being towed about on a sight-seeing tour* Repeatedly Howells

disclaims any intention of "doing* the famous landmarks! "Of course*

I have not the least intention of describing ^bhe Toroello oathedral/*j but he goes on to desarlbe it anyhow* In this way the reader is be­

guiled into attending to a great deal of guidebook description after

all* so that when he finishes the book* he finds that he has had

ohaptera on the opera and theater* famous churches and their art

treasures* the Ghetto* the islands of the lagoons* the Armenian

Convent that once sheltered Byron, holidays* marriage and burial

customs* oomneroe, and Venetian character*

The chief merits of Venetian Life* then* are its sense of

familiarity with its subject* arising from its focus on a restricted

soene— as against* for instance* the diffuse and superficial treat­ ment of a slim volume which proposes to deal with all of Burope—

and from attention to the oommonplaoe• It benefits* too* from its

careful balance of familiar essay and informative treatise* and its

graceful prose style* saved from sentimentality by an occasional

reminder that the writer was but a romantio youth la those days*

Yet Venetian Iq fe is not without its blemishes* Howells knew

later that the bock had been reoeived with some reservation by the Venetians, who found it "troppo i t r a w . " ^ And it is precisely in its too great sorority that one finds room to doubt the fairness, and indeed the aoouracy of the work* Throughout the book, in spite of oooasional tributes to the worth of the Venetians, runs a lightly derogatory air* Because of Howells's position neither outside nor

really in Venetian sooiety, he usually oame into oontaot with menial

Italians* Most of the natives mentioned in the book are porters, gondoliers, peddlers, or beggars. Bren if we grant that suoh olasses hare always been no re generally risible in Burope than they hare erer been in America, Howells seems to giro them vndue prominenoe* In addition, he stresses their beggary and guile* One suspeots that

Howells was very sensitive about money, for he oonstantly reoords

instances of overcharging, outrageous demands for tips in return for

useless service or none, and suoh outright swindling as he experienced

in an amusing encounter with a wood dealer*

Further, Howells gave the impression that all Venetians were

Idle and Indeed worthless* It is true that the Austrian oooupation

had virtually paralyzed the little of Venioe1s Renaissance commercial

grandeur that remained after the fall of the Republic at the end of

the eighteenth oentury* Undoubtedly the oity's industry and trade

had so diminished as to leave thousands idle and impoverished*

Howells knew this historical baokground of the oity's decline, for he

had sujmarised Venice's oosnereial history in his oonsular report

for 1664 and included the same material virtually without alteration

as a ohapter of Venetian Life* Tet repeatedly Howells suggests that 86 the idleness he sees about him is either lassitude produced by a sub­ tropical climate or ingrained in the Venetian character, forgetting that the same olroumstanoes had produced the great days of the

Republic's -rigor in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, k tone of mild derogation runs through his descriptions of all olasses from the ragged street boys to the Taoant-eyed dandies who lounge about

Florian's Cafe showing off their white gloves and gold-headed oanes.

One other method of undercutting the dignity of the Venetians almost escapes notice. Howells makes much of the famous volubility of the Italians* He reoords the fury of gondoliers whose areft have oollided, as they shoult at each other over a widening interval of water. On another occasion he tells of a cheerful funeral in whioh the "mourners" chatter gaily. Now this loquaoity is well attested by many writers on Italy, and Horn 11s is very lilcely merely reporting honestly what he heard. But what the reader does not notioe at onoe is that Howells has translated the Italian in the most literal way possible so that it oomea out with a tone of childish nalvetl'. "Oh, what a beautiful deadl"®® exclaims one of the mourners. Or on another oooasiom a dandy at a cafe ories out,

“BeholdI...Hho is that loveliest blonde there?...She regards me! ■ 67 I have broken her the heartl" One forgets momentarily that the speaker undoubtedly used oorrootly idiomatio Venetian and that the obtuseness of phrase has been added by the translator.

Venetian Life was an instant success on its publication in book form» Howells, with a business aoumen already oharaoteristio of him. 86 novvd at once to axtand his suocess by oolleoting la tar Italian travel sketohes whloh ha had published in the Boston Advertiser* the Nation, and the Atlantic Monthly# The resulting volume,

Italian Journeys, of 1867, was hardly a failure, but it was always 68 less in demand than Venetian Lifs,

The reasons for its smaller popularity are not diffioult to discover* Venetian Life is a book with foous and a oenter of interest in the oharaeter ef the narrator as he grows from newoomer to settled resident, while Italian Journeys is muoh more nearly a con­ ventional travel book* The author now sometimes disappears as a character in the narrative, although on other occasions he emerges as the oenter of dramatically presented action* The descriptions are less impressionistic, and clearly rely more heavily on guidebook statistics than on considered reflection born of long acquaintance*

In addition, the narrative is discontinuous] it does not develop in a natural organic fashion like the broadening of the narrator's horiccn in Venetian Life, but rather consists of a series of discrete aooounts of separate journeys*

Because these trips have definite goals, the great sights reoelve more attention than they did in Venetian Life, and the pil­ grimage to a shrine of literary or historical interest appears with­ out the disguise of oasualness that had veiled it in the earlier volume* Tet Howells continues to oast doubt upon the authenticity of some of the monuments he is shown, and indeed anticipates The Inno­ cents Abroad in his mookery of the £uide who gruvoly offers and the 87 tourist *ho meekly accepts an obviously improbable account of the lives of great men. At the hospital of St. Anna in Ferrara, for instance, Howells was shown a cell which was said to have imprisoned

Tasso for seven years. Howells suggests no doubt that Tasso was inprisoned at the hospital, but he makes great fun of the improb­ ability of the dungeon exhibited being the actual cell of Tassoi

It is said that from the window of his cell the un­ happy poet could behold Leonora in her towr* It may be soi certainly those who oan believe in the genuine­ ness of the oell will have no trouble in believing that the vision of Tasso oould pierce through several brick walls and a Doric portico and at lastcomprehend the lady at her easesasnt in the castle*®®

Howells then finds his skepticism confirmed by a guidebook which explains that before the nineteenth century the alleged cell was a charooal pit, and he oonoludea the episode in a tone of mock melancholy: "You see, though I cared little about Tasso, and nothing about his prison, I was heavily disappointed in not being able to believe it, and ftolt somehow that I had been awakened from a cher- 60 lshed dream."

But on other occasions Howells, undisturbed about the authen­ ticity of the object offered for admiration, oould lavish on the soene Whatever praise or sentiment he deemed appropriate. In suoh passages he is likely to fall baok on the traditional style of the travel book, and even to produce the standard sentiment nailed for by the occasion. It will be Instructive, although we anticipate a little, to oan pare the treatment of the same soene in Italian

Journeys and in The Innocents Abroad, to undervoore the similarity of 88 temper which we have already mentioned, and to suggest that certain speotacles in Europe had, by the late sixties, come to evoke standard emotions.

Both Howella and Twain visited Pompeii, Howells in 1664 on a leave of absence from his consulate, and Twain In 1667 en the Quaker

City excursion. Excavation work, started as early as the beginning of the nineteenth oentury, had by that time revealed a substantial part of the city, and it had become one of the plaoes to be visited without A i l by the tourist seeking the unusual.

Neither author gives a full account of the ruins. Bach picks the striking objects for comment and to a remarkable degree, they choose the same objects. Both desorlbe the remarkably uniform arrange­ ments of private homes, the plaster casts made from lava molds of bodies, the rutted pavements, the skeletons with bits of jewelry still disoemible, the fresooes, and some reminder that man was as frail always as he is now. (Twain observed between the columns of a temple the worn path that served as a short-cut for a bustling people; Howells found a fresco depicting "an alarmed and furtive man" whom he dubbed "The Belated Husband.") Both authors ponder the dead scene before them and find an opportunity for hunor in imagin­ atively drifting back through the centuries. Howells imagines his party to be blonde barbarians— Britons whose heads are powdered with brlokdust and whose nakedness is oovered by pelts. He begins a false- archaic c onversation (patterned after Bulmsr?) and breaks the lightly woven spell by offering the reader a formula for continuing the dis­ 89 course. Twain tries to conjure up the kind of affair he produced at the Coliseum* but the effort is taisuccessful. And finally* both young men pay tribute to Pompeii as a silent monument to the pact and to the transoienoe of man's glory.

Italian Journeys continues then in its peculiarly charming mixture of tourist guide and familiar essay* of aocounts of the great speotacles and brief* brightly-lighted sketches of oomnon life.

Some of the episodes stand apart almost as short stories in which the author appears as chief character* while others become almost 61 Journalistic reports.

But the style of Italian Journeys is never pedestrian. The mildly deprecatory good humor that runs through Venetian Life again characterises the later sketohes. There is in the book of Journeys more of the oleveraess— -the recognition of the incongruous* and the unfailing eye for the curious or picturesque— that Howells m i rapidly developing.

Satisfactory though they were* Venetian Life and Italian

Journeys represent but the first literary fruits of Howells's

European experience. They are deftly and wixmingly done* it is true* but they are after all still only an advanoe in travel writing* in an essentially Journalistic genre. The full literary realisation of his experience in Venioe was to oome only after he had turned to fiction as his major medium* and oould then explore with the insight of the creative imagination the signlfloanoe of the alien soene whose surfaoe his young eyes had observed so well. Since Howells's inter- 90 national novels were essentially the product of his first sojourn abroad, I should like to examine them at this point, even though he did not write them until some years after his return to America.

These novels are A Foregone Conclusion (1874), The Lady of the

Aroostook (1879), and A Fearful Responsibility (1881), A long short story* "Tonelli's Marriage," belongs here too, even though it is hardly international in theme. Also included is Howells's best work on this subject, Indian Sumner (1866), for even though it was written after Howells's seoond trip to Burope, and la set in Florence rather than Venioe, it still relies heavily on his first stay in

Italy, and is essentially a dramatisation of the conflict of cul­ tures which he became aware of in the sixties.

"Tonelli's Marriage" of 1868, the earliest of the fiction based on Howells's Italian residence, is not really an international tale* since all its characters are Venetian and since it dramatises

Venetian courtship customs. It has international overtones, however, in the gently ironic tone which is maintained throughout. While being apparently sympathetic, Howell* oonveys the impression that his middle-aged Venetian bachelor is a pompous fool,which might very well be true. But the irony extends to the society of Venice and Howells suggests rather broadly that life in Venice is empty and pointless, that its soolal life is a set of forms inadequately oonoealing self­ fishness and frustrating straightforward friendships, and that its marriage customs impede rather than promote wedded felicity. 01

A Foregone Conclusion follow* Suburban Sketches (1870), Their

Vlsddlng Journey (1671), and A Chanoa Acquaintance (1875)» Vis have already suggested that these books were a dlreot outgrowth of

Howells's success with the travel book* Suburban Sketches is essen­ tially a foreigner's view of accustomed objects, Howells had been long enough abroad to experience the heightened awareness of the noteworthy qualities of familiar objeots which most travelers feel on their return home* In addition his practice in gathering material abroad had trained him to keep his senses awake, to resist the soporific effect of familiarity* Finally, the Boston and

Cambridge scene of the Sketches was still unfamiliar enough to a young man translated direotly from his Ohio home to the ancient city of 7enice, to permit Howells a genuine sense of novelty* Since the audience to whom the book was addressed were familiar with the sub­

jects of the Sketches, they were flattered and pleased by an unadorned, but undeniably literary, treatment of their daily surroundings•

In Their YSsdding Journey, Howells Is quite clearly groping his way toward the novel form, but he still relies on the journey to move things along* The characters now acquire fiotional names, but they

get involved In nothing more consequential than the incidents of a

railway trip* "There's nothing like having railroads and steam­ boats transact your plot for you," he wrote regarding Their Wedding

Journey* Confliot is virtually absent, exoept in the trivial dif­

ficulties of an eseentially compatible pair of newlyweds, so that the 92 major interest of the book become* by default the old concern* of the episodic travel sketch! meals, transportation, tips, oasual acquaintances, and "sights."

Y/ith A Foregone Conclusion Howells makes two Important advances*

He introduces a genuine problem of sufficient proportions to Justify calling the work a novel, and he makes the foreign background an organ!o part of the plot. This is to say that he has written an international novel, for we may best define the genre as a literary type which uses a foreign setting not merely for Its deoorative or exotic effeot, but as the primary souroe of plot complication. The conflicts of the characters arise from contrasts between the cultures they represent*

In A Foregone Conclusion, Howells introduoes two kinds of characters who were to serve him well in several other works* The young consul at Venioe, Henry Ferris, is olearly a projection of

Howells himself* He is virtually idle in his consulate, devoting his time to artistic interests, and is almost pleased to be disturbed in his solitude by demands for assistance from Americans, Austrian*, and

Italians alike* He speaks with a mild irony which is perhaps not so much the way Howells actually talked as the way he might have talked if he had had time to edit and polish his speeches* The chief in­ truders on his solitude are of a type who will appear again in

Howells's novels, both with American and with foreign settings*

Mrs. Vervain, and her daughter Florida, are rioh, idle, vmcultured 98

Americans touring Burope to escape the realisation of their m m use­

lessness. They have only inadequately acquired a veneer of European

culture, and with an excess of the feminine helplessness that is

usually ohanninp elsewhere in Howells, they throw themselves on Ferris

for help quite beyond the soope of his duties. Their request for help in finding a tutor in Italian for Florida results In the intro­ duction of a character without parallel in Howells's fiction.

Don Ippolito is a priest only tenuously attached to a church and indeed hardly attached at all to a religion. His great passion is

for machinery, a passion which expresses itself In his building models of Inventions which invariably have a fatal defeot. His great ambition is to migrate to America with whose great trial in the Civil

War he sympathizes without understanding either the facts of the oonflict or the issues involved in it. Migration to Amerloa would very likely require his giving up his priesthood, but that is no great matter, for in spite of his Holy Orders, he is essentially a pagan who as a boy was driven to the Church for lack of any better

refuge. The saints, he suggests, are but the gods baptized. When he is installed as Florida's tutor, he i s virtually taken into the family in defiance— or innooenoe— ef convention, quite in the way that Henry James's Bugenio of Palsy Miller is aooepted by Americans who imderralue European class stratifloation. Don Ippolito gradually develops a plan to get to America with the aid of the Venreins, and as he dreams of freedom and opportunity in a land that knows how to appreciate mechanical genius, he beoomes oonvinoed that he is in love 04 with Florid*. Whan ha declares hi■ loro, tha young lady recoil* from him aad reveals that tha Tory thought of union with a priaat is repul­ sive to her. She has treated him with casual familiarity because she has considered him something leas than a man— a skirted creature, unaexed by his nominal devotion to the Church.

Howells's attitude toward Don Ippolito is somewhat obscured by the combination of qualities which unfit the priest for marriage with

Florida. In addition to being a priest, he is unattractive. He takes snuff aad tuoka a blue cotton handkerchief in his sleevet al­ though he is handsome, he is nafve and ineffectual in his collisions with an unkind world. Only his gentleness and helplessness appeal to his protectors; they cannot seriously oonsider him as a husband for

Florida Vervain. Howells dodges the difficult problem of resolving the conflict of the novel by having the priest die after— but not as a oonsequenoe of— his taolt rejection. Then Ferris, the American

Consul, oan claim the love he had adequately recognised only after the priest had beoome an obstacle. The young people part before

Ferris has deolared his love and are brought together again when

Florida sees in a New York exhibit the portrait of Don Ippolito which

Ferris was painting just before the priest's death. After their mar­ riage, the Ferrises return on a vacation to Venice where they reoall

Don Ippolito with affection.

A Foregone Conclusion is genuinely an international novel be- oause its tensions develop from the application of different sets of standards to the same situation. From the point of view of the 95

Vervains, Don Ippolito out be aocepted ee a family intimate beoauee of a kind of denooratlo equalitarianlsm whioh overrides all differences of nationality, oaste, and religious belief* Espeoially can he be taken into the family beoauee he is not really an eligible partner for Florida. His unfitness, his la ok of attractiveness for a spirited, willful girl like Florida is perfeotly obvious to themj in addition, his vows of oellbacy constitute a reliable guarantee that he may safely be left alone with his innooeat pupil* From the point of view of Don Ippolito, the matter appears in a quite differ­ ent light* He is unaware of his unfitness for Florida, but he la passionately oonsoioua of his own frustration in the priesthood, and of his love for her— a love which he does not oonslder to be tainted by his desire to use her as a means of escape* Finally he knows how lightly the vows of his priesthood touch him, and is free of the awe of holy orders that makes Florida recoil from him when he speaks of his love*

In A Foregone Conclusion, then, Howells oame into possession of the international theme quite as thoroughly as Henry James was to do in Daisy Ifl-ller a few years later* When Howells returned to the theme in 1879 with The Lady of the Aroostook he emphasised an added oonplloatloa that is often overlooked in discussions of international novels i his Lydia Blood was not only an American in Europe* she was a girl of the fhrm in her first oontaot with city people* Iydla

Blood ships to Venice on the Aroostook, where she is the only female passenger aboard* She is quite unaware of the anomaly of her posl- 96 tlonj her own innocence thoroughly disarms tha two pollshad young man of Boston who arc at first inclinad to ridicule her* They coma to raallsa that her self-reliant purity renders any knowledge of proper oonduct irrelevant* and they are plaoed on their beat culti­ vated behavior by her natural* unschooled virtue. Further* when she arrives in Venice* Lydia's native goodness contrasts with the laxity of her Europeanized aunt. The importance of the book for our thesis* then* is that it makes an identification which Howells was more aptly suited to recognize than was almost any other literary man of the timet he stressed the similarity In tone* manner* and code of morality of the American metropolis and Burope* and em­ phasised the gap between rural America (or as he sometimes has it* between Western America)* and Boston or New York or Venice. Annette

Ear has noted the remarkable kinships between Lydia Blood and Daisy

Miller in a discussion of "the European vs. the American solutions 65 to a major problem of sooial morality." Tet* as Miss Kar suggests* the problem is really in the oonfliot of cosmopolitan and provin­ cial manners* for the men whose sense of values is shooked by Xydia's apparently free-and-easy manners are Bostonians* and only late in the novel is India's provlnoialism set against the background of Asmrloan oxpatrlatism. Similarly, Daisy Miller* while not a oountry girl* ie from a ssiall olty and has only lately oome into the sooiety which her wealth opens to her. The implication in both novels is that the most intense representation of the Asmrloan manner— the oharaoter moat usefbl for artistic purposes— is to be found in the naive* 97 unspoiled provincial whose ignorance of social codes designed to ourb immoral behavior is of a pieoe with her ignorance of immoral behavior itself, and whose innocence makes the protections of the social code both impossible and superfluous*

In A Fearful Responsibility of 1861, Howells drew even more directly on his experience as consul at Venice than he had in the earlier fiction, for he based the plot on an actual Incident of his life there. The Lily Uayhew of the novel can be identified with

Mrs. Howells's sister, Mary Mead, who had turned down a suitor in

Venice in much the way that Lily rejeotw Mr. Andersen in the novel.

Again, Mr. and Mrs. Elmore appear to be portraits of Howells and his wife. More important, however, is Howells's use onoe again of incongruous oourtship oustoms to provide a major oonfliot. tbes- c or ted on the train to Venioe where she is to join her friends, Lily

Uayhew gets into conversation with an attractive, vivacious Austrian lieutenant. She knows of no barrier to suoh sociability, and expeota no consequences from it, but the Lieutenant misunderstands her cordiality as an invitation to more serious involvement. When he addresses his respects to her, Mr. Elmoro, by now established as

Lily's protector, intervenes and virtually forbids further oonmunl oa- tion. Muoh of the difficulty in the novel consists of debate over the preolse motive behind the Austrian's quaintly worded letters.

In 1866 Hgwells again ohose an Italian setting for a novel of

Americans abroad. Indian Summer is set in Florence where the locale does not so muoh supply essential plot interest as sierely isolate a 98

small oast of oharaoters who are thrown together by thoir oostmon nationality* In addition, tha responsibility of Mrs. Bowen as

chaperone to Imogens Graham is enhanced by the setting in a foreign

country* Colville, the middle-aged protagonist of the story, is

enjoying at last some of the wealth of oultural experienoe that he missed as a youth abroad and never found in his mature years at home•

In addition to idle travel books and the f lot ion that grew out of ther, Howells produced two early artioles on Italian literature*

"Recent Italian Comedy” appeared in the North American Review in

October, 1864, under Lowell's editorship, and was good enough to be followed by a later work on "Modern Italian Poetry," which appeared in the North American Review for Ootober, 1866, and April, 1867*

Ostensibly reviews of several books on their subjeots, the artioles are actually histories of Italian comedy and poetry, supported in each instance by extensive quotation in a Howells translation. As an introduction to Continental literature the pleoes mark an impor­ tant point in Howells's oareer, for in later years he was outstanding among American critics for introducing and recommending the work of contemporary European writers* His theories of realism and Indeed his own praotloe in writing realistic flotion were clearly influenced by the work of Verga, Galdos, Zola, and most of all, Tolstoi*

Howells finished out but one term of appointment at Venice* By the time he had served four years, he felt that he had gained as muoh as he oould abroad, and was eager to get baok to New York or Boston, the literary oenters that appeared to be--and indeed were— ready to 99 reeeive him* It oum ot be olaimed for Venioe that it made a writer of

Howells, for in a sense he was already that when he went abroad in

1861, and he would have turned his work toward literature wherever he had passed the four oritioal years* But the exaot nature of his literary development may well have been influenoed by the Venetian setting* The example of Goldoni, and even more the realistio demands of the travel account turned him to the kind of realism that led by logical stages to the novel form* The contrast of American and

Buropean maimers gave him a theme that he developed suooessfully several times, and his extended knowledge of European languages and literatures lent a useful oosmpolitanism to his oritioal writing*

Italy was more than Just the soene of his first literary suooeesesj it was really the portal to opportunity— a gateway on the road that led roundabout to Boston*

III

Mark Twain's adventures on the Quaker City exoursion are so well known from his own famous aooount of them in The Innooents Abroad that they need no retailing here* We need only reoall that he made the trip In the simmer of 1867, after Adams had been in residence in

London more than five years, and two years after Howells had completed a four-year stay in Venioe and had returned home* By the time of

Twain's trip the irritations between Americans and Europeans, growing out of the Civil War, although they oontinued, were muoh less intense than they had been during the War. Finally, Twain was only a tourist 100

on this trip. Ho was not in residence* and ho hurried wherever ho

wont ■

In addition* thia boat-known of American travel booka has

reoently boon re-examined by two atudonta of Twain in auoh a way aa

to oorroot a long-standing niaconooption of tho nature of the book*

Both of thorn ahow oonrinoingly that far from being "the wild humorist

of the Paoifio elopes" ridiouling tho groat humane traditions of

Burope in order to bolster tho national pride of a raw* unoouth

republic. Twain was Judioious in hi a eritioism and direotod it at

American tourists* the diaoomforta of tourist life* frauds praotiood upon gullible slght-seera* and htaaan degradation that really deserved oensure. At the same time* they show* he was usually suitably

reverent toward objects worthy of esteem--with the outstanding exoeptlon of Renaissance painting— and was even ecstatic about the natural beauties of Burope* over great maaterpleoes of arohiteoture

such as the Ullan Cathedral* and before sites oomemorating men and events that he admired. That this mixture of attitudes was not merely oaprloioua* I shall show in a subsequent ohapter which iso­ lates the elements of thought in this and other works of our three authors • At the moment* I should like to show how The Innocents

Abroad is related to Twain1 s earlier work* and how in its mixture of humor continuing the frontier tradition* and serious touristTs narrative perpetuating the travel book tradition* The Innooents

Abroad is distinguished from its predecessors in travel writing* 101

In an earlier chapter we examined some of Twain's apprentice

work to show how hia uae of frontier humor with lta reliance on

contract between the aoene pictured and the environment of the audi­

ence, aa well as hia uae of the burleaque travel letter both pointed

toward The Innooenta Abroad, And in tracing antecedents to The Inno­

oenta* we come once again on the interacting figure of Arteaaua Ward*

Ward was primarily a lecturer, but he has left a small body of care­

fully misspelled writings which represent— preamably only palely—

the humor of one of Amerloa's great platform personalities* Among

the last of Ward's work was a series of letters to Punch written

during a trip to London in 1666* the last year of the humorist's

6 6 life* These letters are interesting here beoause, although they

fall so far short of the quality o f The Innooenta Abroad that they have in ffcot no literary merit at all* they do show olearly through

their very simplicity the application of the American humorist's

devices to foreign countries— essentially the method Twain used in

some parts of The Innooents*

First of all. Art emus Ward In London is olearly dominated by the

personality of the writer* The book is not so much about London as it

is about Art emus Ward* the windy* unlettered itinerant showman who

serves as a mask fbr the quite different personality of Charles Farrar

Browne* Bven when he is desoriblng famous sights* the real interest

is in the narrator* This focus permits Ward the greatest possible

freedom in pursuing subjects— he is the master of the irrelevant

digression— so that he can introduce all sorts ef imaginary rsmlmis- 102 cenoes for their own sake, and can prooeed perfectly unhampered by the faots of the soene before him.

Seoondly, Ward makes his aocounts of travel a burlesque of conventional travel narratives* He visits a few of the points on the standard itinerary--Stratford, the Tower of London, the British

Museum— and pretends to report the sentiments appropriate to the occasion*

"And this," I said, as 1 stood in the old ohuroh yard at Stratford, beside a Tombstone, "this marks the spot where lies William ~*V. Shakespeare. Alarsl and this is the spot where--"

"You’ve got the wrong grave," said a man— a worthygg villager* Shakespeare is buried inside the ohuroh*

Ward’s misunderstandings, of oourse, arise from the oharaoter he has oreated for himself* Tfograasnatical, not overly scrupulous, of vulgar tastes, and thoroughly unimaginative, this oharaoter insists on applying oomaon-sense measures to whatever he sees* He oomplains, for example, that "Chawoer" is "the wuss speller 1 know of."67 (Cfae is reminded of Mark Twain’s oomplaint that Columbus’s handwriting was not up to the mark of a fourteen-year-old boy.) Yet the prose some­ times covers oritlcism that seems to be genuine* He bemoans the lack of a Tower of London in America * "We boste of our enterprise and improevememts, and yet we are devoid of a Tower* Aaerioa, oh my unhappy oountryl thou hast not got no Tower I" 6 8 And then he goes on to reoall the hundreds of victims of oruelty in the old prison*

One striking c hareoterlstio of Art emus Ward in London is not shared by The Imnooents Abroad* Ward's book is all joke, so that it 108 makes tvn of everything Indiacriminately, and henoe is, in a sense, irresponsible• Twain rather carefully discriminates between what he malces fun of and what he goes into rapturea over* The long-standing objection to Twain's book, that it ia a barbaric hooting at every­ thing Buropean, may Juatly apply to Artemua Ward in London] it doea not apply to The Innooenta Abroad,

Many of the same devloea that Ward uaed appear in The Innooenta

Abroad to give it a quality of frontier humor* Part of the time

T m i a adopts the oharaoter of a bare-footed knerioan, awoetricken by

Buropean grandeur and willing to believe anything he ia told about it* Twain eatabliehea thia personality for himaelf early in the aooount when he relates how he is flattered into buying a pair of gloves several a ires too small for him* Again, in the Turkish hath, he Is the backwoodsman exposed to shocking treatment whioh he fears all the more because he doea not understand it. And from this adventure arises a disillusioned and disillusioning oritloiam of the Turkish bath as an institution*

There is not a great deal of this direot exploitation of rustle oharaoter in The Innooenta, for in many other episodes the author speaks out his orltioism in the person of a wise man, not of a fool, 69 so that the oritiolsm is direot and literal rather than ironical* let the two roles are connected by their common funotion of oomaon- sense orltioism*

An interesting intermediate role appears in The Innooenta Abroad 104

In those passages in whioh Twain quite Tiaibly adopts tha dramatic

role of a ohuoklahaad in order to bedevil guides and anuae hia

readers* In thia variation the author and reader are at one in

their underatanding that the author ia wiser than he pretenda to be*

Thus Twain and the doctor pretend ignorance of Christopher Columbo,

and torment their Genoese Ferguson* Or they Infuriate guides with

their idiotioally repeated question, "la he dead?" In such passages

the reader is permitted to step behind the puppet stage to see the

show from a new vantage point*

The second quality whioh we noted in Artemua Ward in London

also appear a in The Innooenta Abroad i In many ways the book ia a travesty of the conventional travel account* Ward*a burlesque of the tourist at the tomb of Shakespeare is done in the same dead-pan style he made famous on the lecture platform* Some scenes of this kind also appear in Twain's adventures, most notably at the grave of

Adam shore Twain was overjoyed to find, so far from home and friends,

"the grave of a blood relation* The unerring instinct of nature thrilled its recognition* The fountain of ay filial affeotion was stirred to its profoundest depths, and I gave way to tumultuous emotion* I leaned upon a pillar and burst into tears* I deem it no shame to have wept over the grave of my poor dead relative.

Hers the language is very olese to that of earlier pilgrims who were overwhelmed with storms of emotion at one sight or another in the Old

World* But here also the method is that of irony, for the author retains the mask of a "natural-bora duraed fool," while pouring his 106 sentiment over a fraudulent objeot.

At moat other points where he critioizes the travel boot.

Twain apeata out direotly to condemn trumped-up enthusiasm or igno­ rant provincialism. For instance, at Nazareth, Twain notieed that the comments of the pilgrims in his party on the "tall, graceful girls" of "Madonna-11te beauty" showed a remarkable laot of originality and did not seem appropriate to the short, homely, boisterous girl in question. Cheeking sources, he found that the emotions had been cribbed from a popular book on the Holy lend whioh he disguised as "Yttn. C. Grimes's" Komadic Life in Palestine, Twain then ocntimued to berate the pseudonymous "Grimes" for his savage attitude toward natives and for his skill in handling the faucets of his emotion. In fact the sentence following the passage on the 71 grave of Adam whioh we have quoted is a direot quotation from

"Grimes" t "Let him who would sneer at ay emotion close this volume here, for he will find little to his taste in my journeyings 72 through Holy lend." Hers Twain has deserted the role of fool and speaks out as the normal oritio whose words are to be taken literally.

A few other humorous devices appear in The Innooonts Abroad.

Language difficulties never ceased to asnise Mark Twain. His better- known exaggerations on the beauties of German in A Tramp Abroad are foreshadowed here by oosments an French (natives of Paris oouldn't understand their own language as spoken by Quaker City pilgrims), 106 and by transcriptions of the terrifying English of guides and posters* The deliberate anachronism of the Roman playbill announc­ ing gladiatorial combats in the style of a nineteenth-oentury play­ bill similarly anticipates Hank's newspaper in A. Connecticut Yankee*

These are stunts, set pieoes of humor, relying on the incongruities made so readily available by ancient grandeur seen through m o d e m western eyes*

The satirical and humorous passages of The lanooents Abroad alternate with the straightforward desorlptiTS sections so that there is no consistency of tone* Sometimes the transitions are well handled so that the one mood seems to modulate into the other without disharmony* In other plaoes a rather marked shift in mood saves a passage from sentimentality* Often the transition is harsh and disturbing, but as a general thing. Twain plays off the two aspeots of the book against eaoh other skillfully*

In this unique interfusion of a traditional mode of humor into the travel account, and in thia way alone, I believe, Mark Twain departed from the established method of travel narrative, for the major part of The Innocents Abroad is a continuation of the tradi­ tional informative aooount of the travel writer* Twain had already developed soaie skill in this kind of journalism in his Sandwich

Island letters} in The Innooents he brings his reporting to a high level with a deft seleotion of realistic detail, sharply worded personal impression whioh takes oolor from the personality he has developed for himself, and background information seoured on the 107

•pot or gleaned from guidebooks. We have already noted the simil­ arity o f treatment that Howells and Twain gave to the Pompeian ruins in Italian Journeys and The Innooents Abroad; a further oomparlson of parallel passages will demonstrate the extent to whioh Twain worked in the established tradition of travel writing. One of the more popular works on Italy in the add-nineteenth century was x 78 George Stillaan Hillard's Six Months in Italy (1853). Hillard's aooount is painstakingly detailed, but still readable; It oovers the notable sights systematically and exhaustively with none of the delightful digressions that leaven The Innocents Abroad. His visit to the Cathedral of liilan included the oustonary desoent to the tomb of St. Charles Borromeot

Below the pavement of the oathedral is kept and shown the body of St. Charles Borromeo, a saint whom the most bigoted Protestant must needs reverenoe, for his life was made up of the noblest Christian virtuosi benevolence, humility, self-saorlfioe, oourage, end disinterestedness. A priest goes before with reverent steps holding in his hand a lighted oandle....At last, we re a oh a small dark room, in the midst of whioh stands a large oase, or sarcophagus, covered with a doth....The priest then removes the oloth from the sarcophagus, and on turning a windlass, the front of the wooden covering slides down, and we see through the plates of rook orystal (it may be glass) set in frames of gold and gilded silver, the body of the saint, hardly more than a skeleton. A small crown of gold, •aid to have been wrought by Benvenuto Cellini, hangs ever the head; a cross of diamonds sparkles on the breast, and a preoious crosier lies at his side. It is a perversion of the feeling of reverenoe so justly due to that admirable man, thus to exact it for the mouldering shell from adiich the spirit has fled.... To no one, judging from his life, would suoh an exhi­ bition be more distasteful than to St. Chsrles Borromeo himself, oould he reappear on earth. As unostentatious 108

as he mil benevolent* he would order hia bones to be buried* and hia jewel# to be sold and given to the poor*I*

This episode is fairly typical of the aocounts of minor spectacles in nineteenth-century travel books* The passage opens with a transitional phrase maintaining the proper spaoe relation­ ships of soenes in the sequence* and the approach to the tomb is given in detail* so that the reader feels that he is moving through the cathedral* The oentral object of interest is then desoribed in careful detail with emphasis on its bisarre aspects. Finally* the passage closes with a meditation properly suggested by the scene and reflecting the Protestant and practical attitudes Hillard could be sure of in his audienoe*

Mark Twain's reoord of the same scene will show both the extent to which he remained true to the standard tourist report* and the ways in which he improved on lti

Now we will descend into the orypt* under the grand altar of Milan Cathedral* and receive an impressive sermon from lips that have been silent and hands that have been gestureleas for three hundred years*

The priest stopped in a small dungeon and held up his candle**.*V7ith ^orromeo's^ story in one's mind he can almost see hia benignant oountenanoe moving calmly among the hsLggard faoes of Milan in the days when the plague swept the oity* brave where all others were oowards* full of compassion where pity had been orushed out of all other breasts by the instinct of self-preservation gone mad with terror* ohearing all* praying with all, helping all, with hand and orain and purse* at a time when parents forsook their ohildren* the friend deserted the friend* and the brother turned away from the sister while her plead­ ings were still wailing in his ears* 109

This was the good St* Charles Borroraeo, Bishop of Milan. *. *’.Ve stood in his tomb. Nearby was the sar­ cophagus. lighted by the dropping oandles•*..The priest put on a short white lace garment orer his blaolc robe, orossed himself, bowed reverently, and began to turn a windlass slowly. The sarcophagus separated in two parts, lengthwise, and the lower part sank down and disclosed a coffin of rook orystal as clear as the at­ mosphere. liithin lay the body, robed in oostly habiliments oovered with gold embroidery and starred with scintillating gems* The deoaying head was black with age. the dry skin was drawn tight to the bones, the eyes were gone, there was a hole in the temple and another in the cheek, and the skinny lips were parted as in a ghastly amilel Over this dreadful face, its dust and deoay. and its mocking grin, hung a crown sown thiok with flashing brilliants; and upon the breast lay crosses and oroziers of solid gold that were splen­ did with emeralds and diamonds.

How poor, and cheap, and trivial the gew^gaws seemed in presence of the solemnity, the grandeur, the awful majesty of Death!...

Dead Bartolomeo preached his pregnant semon. and its burden was; Tou that worship the vanities of earth— you that long fbr worflly honor, worldly wealth, worldly fame— behold their worth!

To us it seemed that so good a man....deserved rest and peace in a grave sacred from the Intrusion of pry­ ing eyes, and believed that he himself would have pre­ ferred to have it so.^®

Here Twain, like Hillard, has achieved a sense of immediacy by the uae of detail, and by including action as well as statio des­

cription. He shows the priest carrying the oandle. putting on the white lace garment, turning the windlass. And. like Hillard, he has concluded with a homily on worldly vanity and its inoongruity with human worth. Twain's passage is distinguished, however, by its dramatic detail. The prose is ornamented and somewhat feverish; the parallel constructions, the alliterative pairs ("crosses and 110 crosiers"), and the majestioally-cadenced sentences give a tone of melancholy admonition to the aooond paragraph* *Vhoro Hillard ia content with Hating the "nobleat Christian virtues," Twain derel- opa the idea at length in a passage that suggests more than it aotually narrates* The description* both of the decaying head and of its inoongruous ornaments* is worked out much more vividly* This description of contrasts leads directly to the homily toward whioh the whole passage has been shaped from its opening sentenoe. But in spite of this strategy* the emotion seems to be manufactured for the occasion as it does occasionally in The Innocents Abroad* and indeed in most of the travel writing of the time*

In fact when we see it against the background of earlier travel writing, we realise that The Innocents Abroad was not the violently iooaoolaatio work that it has long been considered* Most of the attacks on the sacred cows of Europe had been made by earlier travel writers of greater or less prominence* and Twain gained fame merely by incorporating them in a book of wide popularity* and stating them more sharply* more wittily* than his predecessors had done* Europe had never been the object of unqualified adulation by American travelers* especially when the Americans were stung to defense by wiflattering Buropean aooounta*

To summarize* The Innocents Abroad is a book in whioh two moods are alternated with moderate effectiveness* The humorous portion* which Is an elaboration of the devloes of the frontier humorist in a new setting contrasting strongly with the sooiety that produced the Ill

innooent, is not often derogatory of Europe. The travel book

portion, in idiich the author lays aside his idiotic pose, refleote

the bifureatlon of sentiment that overtakes most travelers to

Europe. The ecstatic note is strong, and it swells in praise of diverse objeots; the humanitarian riduoule and condemnation, while

they are limited to discomfort, filth, poverty, and human degrada­ tion peal out equally strenuously.

Between his 1867 Quaker City cruise and his trip to England

in 1872, Mark Twain acquired a part of the international celebrity that was to be his in full measure later. In a sense that celeb­

rity unfitted him for repeating the suooess of The Innocents Abroad.

His time was oooupied so fully by lunoheons, dinners, receptions, and smokers that he was hardly for an hour out of oongenial company and had no opportunity to poke about and get into trouble.

It is possible too, that he was so pleased and flattered by his

reception that he could not achieve the detachment that had made the asperities of The Innooenta Abroad pungent and its enthusiasms un­ forced. At say rate, the bock did not appear; not until 1879 did he produce another European travel book, and again, England was not included.

A Tramp Abroad was the result of a year and a half in Burope in

1878 and 1879. Its inferiority to The Innocents Abroad is notorious, and the reasons for its weakness are not hard to find. The ohief difficulty is that the book is self-oonsoious where The Innooenta

Abroad ia spontaneous. Twain ia oonsoious now that he is writing 112 for * nation-wide, and Indeed world-wide, audienoe* In addition, ha seems to have studied Tha Innooanta Abroad too oarafully and imitated its devices too wall* Where tha indignations and tha enthusiasms of Tha Innooonts wars expressions of real and intense exaction in moat instances, those of A Tramp seam, like those of tha standard travel book, to be uniformly perfunctory* H*noe even the passages that burlesque the tourist and his patented, authorised sentiment now lack the fine, fresh soorn of a doien years earlier, and seem plotted and rehearsed* The book comes alive on only a few oecasions and these are usually the interpolated reminisoenses of boyhood and of life in the 'Vest* The Innooents had included a few reoolleotions of youth, but none of them is as intrinsioally good or as olearly superior to its surroundings as the blue-jay yarn or the story of Kioodemus Dodge in A Tramp Abroad*

Twain repeats the device of projeoting a personality based upon his own, but not identieal with it* And again, he uses this oharaoter only intermittently, so that passages of burlesque alter­ nate with passages of straightforward description and narration*

One innovation, which Twain perhaps did not reoogniie, is a souroe of weakness In the book* He does not, as he had in The Innooenta

Abroad, ohange subjeota when he ohanges tone* Thus we find aide by aide a sober aooount of student dueling and a burlesque of dueling! a faroioal aooount of an imaginary mountain-

any particular objeot deseived one or tha other type of treatment*

In A Tramp Abroad tha two approaches to the same subject are not

reconcilable* so that the book becomes finally a parody of itself*

The real difficulty is that Twain had by 1373 outgrown the

personality that produced The Innooents Abroadi his effort to oap the suooess of the earlier work was foredoomed to failure*

Twain* like Howells* really first emerged as a literary man in

his travel writing, and especially in that dealing with the Old

World* His motive in going abroad* we have suggested* was to find

ever new material for the kind of humorous sketch that relied on

oontrast between the aoene depicted and the environment of the

readers* This aearoh was suooessful* for the Alta California letters

and the book that grew out of them included suoh humor in abundance*

But the oruise presented another challenge whioh Twain met in essen­

tially the same manner that generations of earlier travelers met it*

he reproduced the unfamiliar scene with the kind of total realisation

that oharaoter!sed the beet of hie novels* CHAPTER IV

KARLY WRITING ON EUROFB

Tho value of examining tho ideas of our throe young men in their writing on Burope liea in the oonoeptlon of America that emerges from that work* And euoh a ooneept doee emerge beoauee for the first time, perhaps* when they went abroad these men thought deeply and at length about their native land as a distinct entity*

As their world expanded to inolude a first-hand experienoe of

Burope* Anerica shrank to a constituent part of that world; for the first time new modes of being beoame visible and real* and life in America* whioh had been synonymous with all of life* became a distinct variety of experienoe* Sometimes the comparisons that travel writing inevitably calls forth Inolude direct statements about what America is or is like. More often* perhaps* statements about what is noteworthy in Burope imply that something different is true of the United States and suggest the writer's ideas of America by indireotlon* And the unstated asswptions that underlie overt attitudes are important beoause they are so finaly held that the writer does mot recognize their existence*

Of the attitudes shared by many travelers* first in interest are

What Arthur Lovejoy oalls the "diverse kinds of metaphysical pathos"* the moods that overtake the writer and give oelor to his work**

- 114 - 1X6

The t reveler usually goes abroad so thoroughly determined to bs amated that he cannot fail to express his awe and wonderment. For a time, at least, he revels in the picturesque ohara of the Old

Ylbrld, end sees every soene in a golden sunset. He is given to great exolamations over the beauty, the vastness, the picturesqueness, the antiquity of Buropean cities. Art, literature, and history seem suddenly real and acoessible, and overwhelmed by the immensity of the opportunity before him, he gives himself up wholly to the strange and inexpressibly rioh life before him. In nineteenth-oentury travel writing, the mood most often expresses Itself as a melancholy fondness fbr Europe's pioturesque ruins. For the mosssnt the dirt, poverty, and discomfort of Buropean life fade from vlewj only the antique charm is visible. In an early letter written after he had been in Venice about six weslcs Howells slipped into the florid prose typical of a young man of literary pretensions as he rises to the challenge of new, rich impressions!

After I had feasted aj eyes on the Rories of the anow<- o res ted Tyrolese mountains, I looked backward athwart the orescent of the bay, and saw Venioe more beautiful than I ever saw it before. •• .No, there is no place like Venioe— so beautiful, so sad— and I could be unlimitedly sentimental here, and melancholy and wretched, with ne one to molest ms or make me afraid. It is a oity that disappoints no one— it can not* for, however differently fair you may have figured it, you will find the reality better than your fancy, a hundred times. The gondolas are more blaok swanlike than you oould have thought. Sen Maroo and the Doge's Palace are more glorious, the Bridge of Sighs more impressive, and the Titians and Tintorettos more gorgeous and magnificent than your gayest dreams of them. Baoh morning the golden angel 116

on tho orest of the Campanile look* in my drowsy eyes and makes me glad and proud to be here*.*.2

In a similar vein wrote eostatioally to his brother of the oharm of Number g and of Berlin's art treasures* Twain, too, in

The Innocents Abroad dwelt at length on the utter foreignness of

Tangier* "thoroughly and uncompromisingly foreign-foreign from top to bottom— foreign from center to c ireumferenoe— foreign inside and outside and all around*"® Then he went on to doouaent this foreign­ ness in convincing detail*

Another common variety of metaphysioal pathos is the mood of wonderment at the great age of Old-World civilisation. Often this idea is ooupled with a sigh for the mortality of man's glories —

Shelley's "Osymandias" theme, made visible wherever antique glory has fallen into ruin* Pompeii almost inevitably brought such a response,

Rome with its layers of ancient, medieval, Renaiesanoe, and modern oivllisaticn all exposed to view impressed many visitors, in­ cluding Henry Adams* Howells, like Cooper and many others before him, oould not forget the departed pride of a Venice now orumbling Into the sea* Mark Twain returned to such a mood again and again at Tangier,

Milan, Venioe, Athens, and at dozens of plaoes in the Holy Land*

The mood is likely to shift, however* Bren the most ardent tourist can absorb only limited amounts of sight-seeing, and when the revulsion sets in, it is likely to produoe excesses as unreasonable as the earlier ecstasies. Hark Twain's celebrated dissatisfaction with the Old Masters arose at least in part from the fatigue of walk- 117 ing through endless galleries. and Henry Adam* had had a similar experienoe when he tried to keep pace with his tireless sister In the galleries of Berlins

I don’t know how Loo oan stand her travels and be in rapture still at everything. 1 get so bored by all these sights that I only want to got out of their way. A Gallery ought to be visited onoe a week an hour each tine* to really enjoy itj otherwise one loses his power of appreciation.*

Castles, historio sites, even soenery noted for its beauty, all finally numb the visitor not able to rise repeatedly to the enotional peak expected of him. Howells noted that actually seeing a historio site may reveal how oosnoonplaoe it is and destroy the illusion that is store valuable than the reality.** And Henry Adams wrote home in

1869 that "after my Berlin experienoe I've beoosw confoundedly skeptioal about all plaoes unless there's some absorbing mental .6 application. In <’

1Rs...eome to Burope for the storied past, and the pictures­ que old. It is all vanity, and I say that the man who lives in the newest log oabin in the far Best is happier than the mismnles in the olddst pyramids of Rgypt. I begin to think though X am only two or three weeks in Burope. and have not yet "done1* a dosen cathedrals, that people who build for more than one generation are otmberers of the earth, and should be subjected to the mild influenoe of a lava-flood as soon as their work is completed.**

A change of soene often restores the interest to the landscape, but the weary, bored, disillusioned view waits always at the end of the lie gallery*

Related to these attitudes are certain oharaoterlstic habits of A aind (which Lorejoy oalls "dialectical motives") shared by most travel writers* Beoause a long time and a lot of travel are neces­ sary to produoe the serenity whioh led Emerson to obserre that travel reveals the indifference of plaoes* the uninitiated traveler is likely to pounce upon whatever is unusual or different from things at home. Henoe he is likely to be unduly oooupied with the bisarre and strange* with the looal and peculiar} oostume* manners* diet* and arohlteoture receive an emphasis too great for their impor­ tance* This peculiarity is of oourse inherent in travel writing* and the consequent neglect of the essential and universal elements of human life aooounts in large part for its usual failure to aohieve any real literary merit*

Seoondly* the letter writer is almost inevitably limited in his view to what is visible to the stranger* Without acquaintance* perhaps without any easy familiarity with the language, he oannot* at least at the beginning of his travel* oonvey an a o our ate idea of the state of affhirs In the ooxmtry he is visiting* His oontaots with the native population are almost exclusively among cabmen* porters* vendors* welters* and landladies* It will be a long time before he will penetrate into sooiety* develop a firm understanding of the niceties of political balances* or aohieve real oonmxunion with the soholars and writers of Europe* 110

But thia limitation cannot be permitted to imp ode tho flow of

reporta aoroaa tho Atlantio. ao that tho writer foela obliged to

answer tho inevitable quo at ion which ho assumes hia readera to bo

aakingi "What do you think of Burope?" Ho generalises freely about

auoh abetraotlona aa "life." "oulturo," and "society." The generali­

zation a may praiae tho glorioa of European art or learning at tho expense ot their American counterpartsj they are equally likely to

compare morala and aocial life to the advantage of America. In an

early letter home, for example. Howella wrote to hia sister*

I tell you. Vic, no one knows how muoh better than the whole world Amerloa ia until he triea aome other part of the world. Our people are manlier and purer than any in Europe) and though I hope to atay here my full four yeara. and know I ahall profit by my experienoe and enjoy it. I atill hope to go be ok and engage in the etrlfe and oombat. which make Amerioa ao glorioua a land for individual a

Suoh a paaaage may. of course, be but the overstatement of a homesiok young man. but generalisations of almost aa sweeping a oharaoter con­ tinue to mark the travel writing of our authors most of their lives.

Thia habit of generalizing on the basis of the limited faeta available also frequently involves the ability to ignore evidenoe whioh doea not support the generalization. For example, the very broad s tat earn nts in all our writers about the manliness and purity of

American oharaoter ignore the ejqperlenoe with Amerioan life that

Twain had had on the Mississippi River and in the silver-mining oamps.

that Howella had had in the police courts of Cincinnati and in the

legislature at Columbus, and that Adams had had as secretary to a 120

Congressman.

Another peculiarity of thought in our writer* is their assump­ tion that the uniquely free, irresponsible life they lead as tourist* is typioal of the country they are in. Henry Adams, as we have seen* felt that he could indulge his "inclination for the Bpiourean philos­ ophy" in Burope, and Howells found a chief charm of his residence abroad to be its economic security and freedom from interruption.

One of the major attractions of Burope for the tourist is precisely that it is vaoationland.

A final habit of mind that overtakes the tourist is the oon- fusion of class and national peculiarities. The traveler is thrust into contact with the porter, the guide, or the beggar, and from these brief contacts he is likely to conclude that the behavior of baggagemen is typical of Frenchmen, or that the politeness of a

Roman guide represents the innate polish of Italians generally. Hsny of the qualities that Adams observed in "German" society at Dresden, for instance, were actually ehsuraoteristio of the lower middle olass, a level of soolety to whioh his Dresden experienoe was his first introduction. These then are the moods and habits of thought that give shape to the travel writing we are interested in.

1/Ve shall turn now to the ideas expressed in the writing on

Burope of Adams, Howells, and Twain, and to the assumptions that under­ lie them. For convenience in handling a diversified body of material and to show relationships of ideas, I have used these headings!

Travelers and traveling! The people of Burope, and the idea of 121 national character* Standard of living, social life, and morals; Art

and literature; History and politics*

I. Attitudes Toward Travelers and Traveling

One phenomenon that regularly attraots the attention of our

authors is their fellow-tourists• Neoessarily thrown together by the exigencies of travel, tourists watoh eaoh other olosely, often with dislilce and suspicion, and record quiokly formed impressions*

Animosity and distaste find expression far more often than do admiration or friendship* In addition the idea is almost univer­

sally held among travel writers that the tourist is a pspresentative

of his nation, a kind of unofficial ambassador* From this notion

it follows that the character of a nation may be judged by the

samples of Its population seen in railway cars and hotel lobbies

hundreds of miles from home* Yet many writers oomnent agrlly on the

objectionable behavior of their compatriots and shake their heads

over the inaccurate impression of . Amerioa that is created abroad by these irresponsible envoys, while they go right on generalising

on the oharaoter of Englishmen or Germans as represented by a few

touring specimens* In Howells especially one finds consents on the

self-righteous superiority of Snglish travelers who demand more than

their rights with a bland disregard of other people's comforts* II Vftth that graoeful superiority whioh endears their nation to the world, and makes the traveling Bngllshmsui a universal favorite,*1 he 122 wrltoa in Italian Journeys, "they keep tho seats to whioh thoy no longer havo any right, whllo tho tempest drenches the ladios to whom U tho plaoos belong." The German ia pictured aa provincial, solemn, and thriftyj the Frenchman haa a auperoilloua glanoe for anything outaide Paris*^

Bu+ in all three writore the Amerioan abroad ia given fulleat attention. Henry Adama, in The Education, reoalla the Amerioan buaineaa man aa he had appeared in Burope in 1870i

Bored, patient, helpless} pathetically dependent on hia wife and daughters; indulgent to excess; mostly a modest, deoent, excellent, valuable oitisen; the American was to be met at every railway station in Burope, carefully explaining to every listener that the happiest day of hia life would be the day he should land on the pier at New York. He was ashamed to be amusedi his mind no longer answered to the stimulus of varietyi he oould not face a new thought* All his immense strength, hia intense nervous energy, hia keen analytic perception, were oriented in one direotlon, and he oould not ohange I t . 5

The figure is one that has beoome familiar to us in Henry James's

Christopher Newman (The American) and Waymarsh (The Ambassadors)} he is pictured too in Howells's Kenton (The Kentons).

But the figure who attracts more attention, although he was probably not as nwerous as the bewildered, self-effaoing business man t o w away from his desk, is the loud-mouthed Amerioan who insists on making his nationality known and commenting audibly on the superior* lties of Amerloa. The best-known portrait of this type is Twain's picture in The Innooenta Abroad of i 128

an American who talked very loudly and coarsely, and laughed boisterous ly where all others were so quiet and well-behaved*. ,.This fellow said* "I am a free- born sovereign, sir, an Amerioan, sir, and I want everybody to know it!" He did not mention that he was a lineal deaoendant of Balaam's asst but every­ body knew that without his telling it,l^

Howella, too, objeots to the "sharp, bustling, go-ahead" Yankees, idiom the wise ohuroh oats of Italy oan Identify "by the speed with

-jfriioh we pass from one thing to another, and by our national igno­ rance of all languages but English, These oats must also hear us vaunt the superiority of our own land in unpleasant comparisons."^5

The objection to the American tourist ia often to his greenness and his eagerness. In a review o f W, Pembroke Estridge’s Harper1 s

Hand-Book for Travelers, Howells shows the shortcomings of the book by imagining the fate of a pair of novioe travelers eager to "do"

Europe quickly and thoroughly. The green tourists are marked by their prominent display of the national emblems* tho traveling dentist oarrles his Hand-Book wrapped in an American flag while his wife is adorned with "a filigree spread-eagle of gold extending a protecting wing over the sparse parting of her hair, and a pin at her throat neat ly imitated from a 7-50 #500 bond," And with pathetio eagerness to pavw as knowledgeable oritios of the art and architec­ ture before them, they piece out their conversation with the ready 16 phrases of Fetridge's guidebook.

But if the untutored traveler is objectionable, his metamor­ phosis into the "Old Traveler" is more so. The "usual signs" of the onset of the malady a re "airy, easy-going references to grand dis- 124

17 tanoes and foreign plaoes." Howells'a traveling dentist and hia

Lady begin to pi ole up tha ahibbolatha of tha initiatad tour i at*

Fetridge, wrappad in Old Glory, llaa in tha bottom of tha trunk while

hit plaoa ia takan by tha Hurray handbook favored by tha &igli4u

tha anamalad pin in imitation of a bond haa given way to a Florantina

moaaio brooch. After they hare bean abroad onoe, theae travelers

qualify aa "Old Traralara." Hark Twain gives an aoid aketoh of them*

Ha lore to hear them prate, and drirel and lie....Thair oantral idea, thair grand aim, ia to aubjugate you, keep you down, make you feel inaignlfioant and humble in tha blase of thair cosmopolitan glory I •• .They sneer at your moat inoffensive suggestions; they laugh unfeelingly at your treasured dreams of foreign land a; they brand the statements of your trareled aunts and unolee as the stupidest absurditiesj they deride your most trusted authors and demolish tha fair Images they hare set up for your willing worship with tha pitiless ferocity of the fanatio loonoolast.^9

And the next step is even worse* the affnotation of European

attitudes and maimers is not to be borne. Hark Twain complains that

Amerioans abroad are prone to forget their native tongue, to deni­

grate everything American, and to laud everything European. "It will

take these inaeots five years now, to get done turning up their noses

at everything Amerlaan, and making damaging comparisons between 19 their own oountry and *Turrup.1 * Howells notes this tendency to

admire tha Buropean at the expense of American soenery and institu­

tions. In Their ifedding Journey, tha Haro he a gently o hide themselves

for preferring the Rhine to the Hudson, and for finding an American

(irlsh) guide interesting only beoause he momentarily reminds thesi of a picturesque Italian beggar, la A Homan1 a Reaeon Bewails reverts 125 to the t h e m by haring his rery sensible Lord Rain ford oomplain of tho Amerioan affectation of oosmopolltanlsmi

I find your people*..only talk about Europe* They talk about London# and about Paris# and about Rozas; there seems to be quite a passion fbr Italy) but they don't seen interested in their own country**• .It isn't as if they acre cosmopolitan; that isn't quite the impres- eion# though— exouse ny saying so— they try to giro it* They always seem to hare been reading the Fortnightly and the Saturday Boriow and the Spectator# and the Herue dss beux M ondesT-uid the last French and bglish books*...At one dinner the Americans got to talking to one another about some question of local finance in pounds# shillings# and penoe*2®

When this mild and passing affeotatlon became a settled habit in the Amerioan long resident abroad he was not so much an object of scorn as of suspicion. All three of our young men* while they seriously oonsidered expatriation at one time or another in their lires early wrenched themselres away from Europe as though from some fatal lure* Adams reoalled his father's fear that life in Europe vnfitted the Amerioan for life in Amerioa# and by the end of the

Minister's term in London he was eager to get home to resume a oareer as an Asmrloan. Well before the end of his consulship at Venioe#

Howells longed to return home* partly# one suspects because the prolonged lack of society disturbed him* and partly out of his im­ patience to adranoe his literary oareer. To Lowell* how error# he suggested another reasont

I go home in this imprudent way* because at the end of three years* I find myself almost expatriated* and I hare seen enough of moountryed Amerioans in Europe to disgust me with roluntary exile* and its effeets upon oharacter*•..but with what unspeakable 126

regret ■hell I leave Italy 1 You see# that's the trouble— I am too fond of Italy already, and In a year or two more of lotus-eating, I shouldn't want to go home at all*^l

And Twain, at the end of A Tramp Abroad, concluded that "short visits" to Europe are better for us than long ones. The former preserve us from beoouing Europeanized} they keep our pride of country intact, end at the seme time they intensify our affection for our country and our peoplet whereas long visits have the effeot of dulling those 22 feelings— at least in the majority of oases."

Yet all their lives these men longed for Europe, and even when declaring their fidelity to Amerioa, they admitted their longing*

Henry Adams, writing to Charles Uilnes Gaskell of a projected trip to England in the suroer of 1870, recorded his eagerness to escape from Washingt

And in 1874 he wrote to Lowell, then on a holiday In Europef "I would not on any aocount go back— for less than a two years' stay."**®

Their repeated trips abroad to rest, to work, to see again the sights that had entranced them in their youth, suggest that eaoh of them felt something of the spell that bound the expatriates to Europe for life* 127

If tourists were a source of mingled amusement and irritation,

touring itsolf evoked similarly mixed feelings* Burope in the 1860's was only beginning to feel the impact of the vast expansion of

tourist traffic that came after the Civil War. Restoration of peaoe and the new leisure olass produced by growing industrialisation In both England and Amerloa produoed swarms of visitors who taxed every

facility and invaded quiet old oorners of Europe that had been the 2 6 private ranging ground of a few cultured, seasoned travelers*

Aooomnodatlons were Imperfect, eo that even with the help of such excellent series of guides as Hurray's and Baedeker's, and even with the export aare of a oourier, the traveler often enoo unto red delays 27 and discomfort* Howells, espeeially in Italian Journeys, makes a

great deal of copy out of guides, porters, transportation, and inns*

Marie Twain's problems were partly solved by the presence of the

cruise ship as a base of operations, but he too managed to find fun in his difficulties with horses, hotels, barber shops, and restau­

rants, while his pictures of the endless string of guides, all of whom he dubbed "Ferguson," are uiaurpaseed In travel writing*

II* The Idea of National Charaoter

One of the moot prominent and persistent ideas in nineteenth- oentury writing in general and in travel writing in particular is the idea of national oharaoter* Indeed, one of the ends of travel was presvssably to discover what the oharaoter of various peoples 128 might b« and to picture that oharaoter in vivid form* This oonoept

was an eaeential element of the nationalism which arose In the

seventeenth and eighteenth oenturies and which beoame the most

striking fact of the polltioal history of the nineteenth century*

In the eighteenth oentury suoh philoaophio writers as Bolingbroke*

Rousseau* and Herder all spoke of a national "genius*” or national

"aoul*" In the nineteenth oentury both the Romantics and the

Liberals were interested in "the folk*" and in movements of national

liberation* These interests led them to examine the oharaoter of

peoples* and to identify the qualities that distinguished one nationality from another* Many characteristics were alleged to

identify a nationality* suoh as oomnon raoial desoent* a national

language* identification with a particular territory* a national history* tradition* legendry* or religion* or allegiance to a state*

But the quality most often olaimed for a nationality was a typical 28 national character*

Ai it appears in our three writers* the idea of national oharaoter holds that there is a relatively permanent set of physical

oharaoteristios* mental qualities* attitudes* and patterns of be­ havior shared generally* if not universally by the people of a nation* The idea is related to the eighteenth-oentury oonoept of a uniform h a s n nature* exoept that it oomoelves of a uniformity ex­ tending only through a nationality or raoe* and differing in marked ways from the uniform nature displayed by other nations or raoes* 129

The nations are understood to correspond roughly to the political

boundaries of states as constituted in the 1660'a, but oertain

affinities are reoogaized so that such an entity as the "German nation" may inolude Prussians, Bavarians, and Austrians. Certain broader relationships oonneot nations no that tl'e "Latin raoe" may

include Frenchmen, Italians, and Spaniards. The qualities of

oharaoter attributed to these groups may be very general, like

"warmth,’1 "vigor,""deoadenoe," or "delicacy"* or they may be very

specific like "thrift," "conceit," "dishonesty."

Whether suoh traits are inherent or are the product of environ- 29 ment is not dear in these writers. In faot, the oonfusion on

this point is precisely one of the major differences between our authors* attitudes toward Europe and those toward America. In

Europe the older, tired, degenerate strains of blood aooount for the

debility of society* in America the bracing air of freedom makes new men of immigrants, however mixed their blood strains. Usually,

though, the qualities of an Englishman, a Frenchman, a Portuguese,

are understood to be inherent and to be the eouroe of, rather than

the product of, social conditions.

One finds a remarkable disparity in travel writing between the generalizations alleged about a whole nation and the faots about am individual presented in a close-up portrait. Henry Adams, for

example, uttered the most unqualified, all-inolusive condemnations of the English as a people at the same time that he was exploring the

oharm and intellectual riohness of many individuals. And no more ISO striking incongruity of this kind exists than that between Mark

Turnin'a sentimentalized, vague, wholesale statements about Amerioan manhood and his individual portraits of fools like the Poet Lariat or ruffians like Pap Finn* Howells perhaps recognised this inoon- sistenoy when he spoke of "private ftiglish faith and publio English perfidy."30

None of our three authors seems to doubt the validity of the idea of national oharaoter or its oorollarles. Howells, in his life of Linooln, had said that the volwteer system had, in some sort, made of the Hexioan War "the orusade of Anglo-Saxon civilisation and vigor against the semi-barbarism and effetenesa of the Mexican and

Spanish races."3* And again and again in his travel writing he characterised entire nations in terms hardly less sweeping. In

Italian Journeys, for example, he classified conniereial travelers S2 aooording to the national degree of boorishness they exhibited.

In his article on Italian brigandage, Howells glanced briefly at the politloal, social, and eoonomlo oauses underlying the Institution, but attributed the difficulties ohiefly to the innate moral character of the Neapolitan people. His solution to the problem was to en­ courage exchange of populations between Naples and northern Italy so that the brigands' mountain passes might be oooupled by honest

Lombards and Piedmontese. "The only complete work on brigandage," he ooneluded,

would be a work treating fully of Italian civilisation, in whioh the most oareless observer must disoem, con­ trasted with qualities of the highest and humanest 131

refinement, traits of wild and predatory lawlessness desoended from savage instincts innate in the raoe before robbery founded Rome*®^

Henry Adams on his 1800 trip to Sioily had doubted the valor of the Sicilians* for "I ean never forget* In thinking of Slolly and the Kingdom of Naples* that under the Roman government these countries were the great slave provinces of the empire* and there seems to be a taint of degradation in the people ever since.”

Sioily was ”a bad lot*” its common people famous s lnoe the Sicilian

Vespers of 1282 and the cholera troubles of 1837 "for being the -35 ntost brutal and savage crowd known in modern Europe. Later he characterised the Kiglish and the Frenoh as broadly* if in different terms*

In his letters on the Hawaii an s and in his Virginia City obser­ vations on the Chinese* Mark Twain had similarly suggested that the moral characteristics of those groups wore innate* rather than the product of tradition and social circumstance. In The Innooents

Abroad* Twain noted the national traits of the various peoples he visited; the Portuguese* for example* he characterized as "slow, poor# shiftless* sleepy# and lazy.”®®

No nation comes in for more extensive or more severe comment than the l&glish. There are a number of reasons why this should be so* While figures are not available* numerous accounts suggest that the English traveled in great numbers. Hence the tourist, even if he did not get to England# was able to observe "English character" and to ignoro the fact that he was observing not just Englishmon but 132 the moneyed Englishman* The same asperity that characterizes

American comments on Englishmen abroad appears in accounts of England itself* The oommon language, in spite of the annoying differences that had developed between English and American usage, permitted representatives of the two nations far more opportunity to oomnuni*' oate and hence to disagree than would have been true in France or in those countries whose languages were even less well known. A further source cf difficulty was the British position in the American Civil

Ytar. .Widespread English sympathy for the Confederacy was ideally calculated to inflame the patriotism of young men whose sense of national pride had already been made tender by the stresses of the war* Henry Adams was, as we have noted, especially sensitive In this respect, since he was In London through the war, and since he was so closely identified with the Union cause* The charge leveled against the English attitude in our Civil Vita.r was chiefly that it was treasonous— that it betrayed the "natural alliance" of the Anglo-

Saxon nations* This charge revealed what was probably the ohief source of irritation between the two national their very ties of oommon history, literature, and language led to a rivalry, a family quarrel showing all the bitterness characteristic of suoh disputes*

Americans had long resented the very real, if not universally shared, sense of superiority of the English. Even though Americans shared the ftiglish Idea of Anglo-Saxon superiority, they could not forget the asperities of Mrs. Trollope, Charles Dickens and Captain Basil

Hall In their aooounts of travel in Amerloa* 155

Henry Adame was undoubtedly moat outspoken in his oondeematlon of British oharaoter* He felt that the British nation was treach­ erous# ignorant* selfish# insular* vain* taotless* and brutal* Again and again he returns to this characterisation* both during his

London residenoe of 1861 to 1868 and for most of his life afterward*

An expression of this view, more bitter than most* but not other­ wise atypical* occurs in on early letter to the New York Timesi

Some strange frenzy seems to hare seised the English nation. The phlegmatic and dogmatic Englishman has been dragged into a state of literal madness* and though not actually riotous* he has lost all his power of self-control • He is seldom well informed on any but English subjects looked at from a national point of view] he is often sullen* dogged* and unsoolal* But in these December days it is worse than all thisj it is sheer# downright* national insanity* cropping out in the oharaoteristio forms in which his greatness and weakness always proolaims itself*8*

In 1871* he spoke of "stray English (young) men" who had "the gentle-

Jt O tt^ ti and beast mixed more or less in their composition* as usual*

Apparently* in spite of a life-long friendship with Charles Milnea

Gaskell and other intimate English friends* he found no need to alter his view* for in The Bduoaticm* recalling the Civil War forty years after the event* he presented muoh the same attitude toward English­ men in the mass* saying* apparently without ironyt "Naturally the

Englishman was a coarse animal and liked coarseness."89

Howells retained his grudge against traveling Englishmen for a long time* and apparently enjoyed getting angrier every time he thought of them* for the incident reoorded in Italian Journeys in whioh three biglishaen took seats belonging to the ladies of Howells*s 154 party returns repeatedly to his pages in new incarnation*. In A Fear* ful Responsibility, the English painter* Rose-Black* is the target of Howells's anger. He makes himself offensive by seeking the company of the Elmores (who olearly represent the Howellses) and then affronting "their national as well as their personal self-esteem" by declaring his sympathy with the Confederacy. Elmore muses about

Hose-Blackt

"1 have been wondering if* in his phenomenal way* he is not a final expression of the national g enius *— the stupid contempt for the rights of others; the taoit denial of the ri^its of any people who are at English mercy; the assumption that the courtesies and decen­ cies of life are for use exclusively towards English­ men."

Howells then inserts his own ironic comnentt

This was in that embittered old war time* we have since learned how forbearing and generous and amiable Englishmen are; how they never take advantage of any­ one they believe stronger than themselves* or fail in consideration for those they imagine their superiors; how you have but to show yourself suooessful in order to win their respect* and even affeotion.*0

In A Chanoe Acquaintance the English family* mistaking Miles Arbuton of Boston for an Englishman "mutely recognised the right of an

Ibiglishroan to stop not only the boat but the whole solar system*"

And in the shipwreck scene of A Woman’s Reason we see how a minor grudge may grow to significant proportions* for this time life itself is involved. One of the passengers* bluntly identified as an English­ man* is seated in the overloaded lifeboat* and protests "with that respeot fbr the rights of the travelling publio which fills the

Englishman When he writes to the Times of the inattention of the rail­ 135

*41 way company*s servants,"^ against the sailors orowding into the boat.

The hero, an American, and two sailors, Portuguese and Icelandic, volunteer to remain behind. That Howells did not hold all Rn lishmen

responsible 2br such behavior is shown by the presence in the same

novel of Lord Bainford, who is generous and sensible, but Howells

usually remembered the ifeglishman as arrogantly selfish.

In his earliest travels Mark Twain did not reaoh England, nor

did he make more than passing consent on Englishmen. On his first

trip to England In 1872 he was received with something like f

national ovation. His warm reception had encouraged affection for

the English in his heart, and he oould not speak harshly of them.

lYilliam Dean Howells recalled Twain* s attitude!

It was after his first l&iglish sojourn that I used to visit him, and he was then full of praise of everything English* the ftiglish personal independence and publio spirit, and hospitality, and truth. He liked to tell stories in proof of their virtues, but he was not blind to the defeots of their virtues, their submissive aooeptance of oaste, their oallousness with strangers, their bluntness with one another. Mrs. Clemens had been in a way to suffer soolally more than he, and she praised the English less....In their successive sojourns among them I believe he oame to like the English less and she more; the fine delight of his first aoceptanoe among them did not renew itself till his Oxford degree was given him.*8

V/hat Howells failed to mention in this fever-chart of Mark Twain's

affeotlon for the English was the bitterness that invested The Con­

necticut Yankee.

If other European nationalities reoeive less attention than the

English, they are likely to fare even less well. Howells recognised 136 that in Venioe, a city whose decline was even more dramatically

orident than that of other European cities, he perhaps saw the natives under atypical circumstances, but, allowing for that looal peculiarity, he did not hesitate to extend his observations to all

Italians, In noting the prevalent misconceptions of the Italian character, he did not so much disoard the oonoept of national oharao­ ter as oorreot it. He found, for example, that the Italian did not 43 display the carefree gaiety attributed to him, but he did speak of the "passionate nature of the Italians" and "their large, natural

4 5 oapacity for enjoyment," He fouid them childlike and simple in 46 47 many things, indolent or at best ineffioiently industrious, 48 naturally dignified but willing to beg or cheat. The strain of affection that pervades Howells's pages on "Venetian Traits and

Characters" is closely entwined with a tone of condescension,

Henry Adams in his early experlenoe in Germany found Berlin gloomy, and he m s inclined to extend his attitude to include the

German character. His experiences at the Gymnasium suggested to him that the renowned orderliness of the German mind was ultimately a curse when it was translated into the deadly academic routine that 40 ground all individuality out of German schoolboys. Another trait that he attributed to the Germans was a bumbling ineffectiveness in practioal affairs. In writing The Education, he remembered the impractical simplicity of the Genian mind and believed that in their lack of confidence and unity the Germans oould not oompete with 60 France, Aigland, or Amerloa* Increasingly during his stay he 157 referred to them as "these Gorman idiots*" Vfhen finally he did come to appreciate the scholarship of suoh Oeman historians as Von Holst* he substituted the oonsnoner stereotype depioting the German mind as thorough and systematic lbr the notion that the German mind was marked by Impractical simplicity.®*

The French are less thoroughly treated in this early travel writing than the other prominent nationalities of Europe* Howells mentioned French travelers only briefly in Italian Journeys, intro­ ducing his comment by saying* "Like the Englishman who had no prejudices. I do hate a Frenchman." The light tone did not oonoeal a very real irritation. French families on a sight-seeing tour he found disdainful of anything beyond the borders of France, and the coransrcial travelers of that nation he found to be even more aggres­ sively obnoxious than their English or German counterparts•

Ifcrk Twain so admired France on his flying visit in 1867 that he oould hardly find superlatives enough to describe it in the Intervals of pouring equally unqualified criticism on her shortcomings.

Napoleon III he found to be an e pi tome of the French genius* shrewd and crafty, but efficient, faithful to a dream of personal achieve­ ment, a planner of far-reaching vision, an executive of bold effectiveness. Twain gained dramatic heightening by comparing

Napoleon with Abdul Asis, Sultan of Turkey, "the representative of a people by nature and trainirg filthy, brutish, ignorant, unprogres­ sive, superstitious."®® At ?ere La Chaise, the French national cemetery. Twain turned from the burying-plaoe of kings in the Church 158 of St. Denis to a plaoe "sacred to a nobler royalty— the royalty of heart «id brain."®* And he called the roll of France's statesmen* soldiers* artists* and scientists "whose worthy labors are as familiar in the remote by-plaoes of c ivllication as are the historic deeds of the kings and prinoes that sleep in the marble vaults of Sfi St. Denis." By 1880* the year of A Tramp Abroad* Twain had suf­ ficiently modified his admiration of the genius of Franoe to aceept* if only for what he took to be the humor of it* the notion of the

Frenchman as vain snd boastful* but lacking in oourage and manhood*

As an addendum to his discussion of German student duelling* Twain imagined a duel between two Frenchmen— -an affair full of punctilio* but ending with both men saving face (to their own satisfaction) in an unmanly fashion*^

When the idea of national character was applied to America* some interesting results followed* Our writers usually assumed* first of all* that "American" was equivalent to "Anglo-Saxon" even though by 1860 such an assumption had become less sound as eaoh passing 57 year brought increasing floods of imnigration* Sometimes* of course*

American character was contrasted to English oharaoter* in which case the term MAnglo-3axon" would not serve* So long as the flotion of racial homogeneity could be maintained* the usual identification of Anerican character with innate or hereditary traits was sound* but when the admixture of raoial stocks was reoognised* the peouliar virtue of Amerioan oharaoter had to be attributed to the oliraate* to eoonomlc well-being* or— as it most often was— to demooratic inetitu- 139

tlons, Howell* * t Basil March gave voice to thia difficulty when he

meditated on the idea of a new country * "Of oourse it’s abaurd to

think of men aa other than men, aa having changed their nature a with

their akiea; but a new land al «ya doea aeem at f irat thoughts like

a new chance afforded the raoe for goodness and happiness, for health CO and life," A further difficulty arose when, during the Civil War,

it became neoeasary to d iatinguish between two kinda of Americana,

In that oaae, the peculiarities of Southern temperament were attri­ buted to climate, or, more often to the pernicious effeota of the

slave system, which was a betrayal of democracy and of its benefioial

effects.

The attribution of particular characteristics to other nations

implies that in these respects Americana are different from the nationalities described, but thore is also more direot evidence of what our authors oonceived American oharaoter to be, Henry Adams, in

Esther, has Wharton, the painter, desoribe Esther Dudley am "one of the most marked Amerioan types I ever saw," The signs of the type vdiioh Wharton then lists suggest individuality without discipline, vigor without substancet

"In the first place, she has a bad figure, whioh she stakes answer for a good one. She is too slight, too thinj. she looks fragile, willowy, as the cheap novels call it, as though you oould break her in halves like a switch. She dresses to suit her figure and sometimes overdoes it. Her features are imperfeot. Except her ears, her voire, and her eyes which have a sort of brown depth like a trout brook, she has no very good points,.. .She gives one the idea of a lightly sparred yacht in mid-ooean; unexpected) you ask yourself what the devil she is doing there. She sails gayly along, though there is no land in sight and 140

plenty of rough weather coining. She never read a book, I believe, in her life. She triea to paint but she Is only a second rate amateur and will never be anything more, though she has done one or two things which I give you sy word I would like to have done myself. She picks up all she knows without an effort and knows nothing well, yet she seems to understand whatever is said. Her mind is as irrerular as her faoe, and both have the same peculiarity. 1 notioe that the lines of her eyebrows, nose and mouth all end with a slight up* ward curve like a yacht's sails, which gives a kind of hopefulness and self-confidence to her expression. Mind and faoe have the same curves.*****

But if Esther is one strongly marked American type, she is not the only one. Catherine Brooks, of Denver, is a fresh, innocent, even ignorant girl of the Yfeat. Esther paints her as the "soul of the

Colorado plains," and when Catherine serves as model for a St.

Cecelia in the frescoes of a new church, the result is an "American saint" marked off from the surrounding figures (which take their inspiration from Yftiarton's Parisian training) by freshness and inno­ cence. "I can't make a young girl from Colorado as pure and fresh as that," Wharton says* "To reach Heaven, you must go through hell, and carry Its marks on your faoe and figure. I can't paint innocence without suggesting sin, but you can, and the ohuroh likes it. Put «60 your own sanctity on the wall beside my martyrdom!

This seoond picture of American womanhood is closer than that of

Esther to Howells's conception of the type. Howells indeed seems oftenest to entertain the kind of notion of American womanhood that

Hawthorne expressed in an early chapter of The Scarlet Letter*

The women who were now standing about the prison-door stood within less than half a oentury of the period 141

when the man-11 ice Elisabeth had been the not alto­ gether unsuitable representative of the sex. They were her oountrywomen; and the beef and ale of their native land, with a moral diet not a whit more refined, entered largely into their composition. The bright morning sun, therefore, shone on broad shoulders and well-developed busts, and on round and ruddy oheeks that had ripened in the far-off island, and had hardly yet grown paler or thinner in the atmosphere of New England. There was, moreover, a boldness and rotundity of speeoh among these matrons.. .that would startle us at the present day, who ler in respect to Its purport or its volume of tone.**

Howells similarly attributed delicacy and sweetness to Anglo-

Saxcns and more often, to Americans alone. Speaking of "the natural equality of the Italians,1' he oonmentsi "They have nover, perhaps, that high beauty of sensitive expression which Is found among English- 62 men and Americans (preferably among the latter)." This "beauty of sensitive expression" becomes in the later fiction one of the dis­ tinguishing marks of a Howells maiden. Sometimes he outs his dis­ tinctions very fine, as when he describes a Canadian girl, a creature intermediate in station between the beasts and the godsi

The young girl was redeemed by h er New World birth from the ftiglish heaviness, a more delicate blcom lighted her oheeksi a softer grace dwelt in her movement; yet she was round and full and she was in the porfeot flower of youth. She was not so ethereal in her love­ liness as wi American girl, but she was not so nervous and had none of the painful fragility of the latter.

Howells, long held the notion that there is some tell-tale mark, some refinement, that i dentifies the American. In A Vfoman's Reason, of

1883, he desoribes Fenton as "a gallant figure. The oval of his regular faoe had been chiseled by his sickness into something impres­ sively fine; with his good nose and mouth, his dark moustaohe and 142

imperial and his brown tint, he was that sort of young American whom

you might pronounce an Italian before you had seen the American look

in his grey eyes."®^

The idea of national oharaoter, then, was a convenient moana of

avoiding troublesome dealing with the bewildering variety of visible

faots. It was at onoe both an alleged source of virtue and a pro­

duct of it. National oharaoter was presumably hereditary— some

raoi&l stocks were innately more intelligent or more moral than others —

but it was also susceptible to shaping by climate or sooiety. The

whole set of racist notions anticipated by our three writers had in

the * sixties and 'seventies not been systematized into the great

Anglo-Saxon superiority myth that emerged from Darwinism, from

Spencer's universal philosophy, and from the sociology of William g c Graham Sumner, but the materials lay ready to hand.

III. Standard of Living, Sooial Life, and Morals

To the person traveling in Europe in the 1860's, the higher

general level of prosperity in America was clearly evident. Poverty, while picturesque, especially in the form of waifs and beggars, was

nevertheless pitiful, and represented a denial of the humane values

whloh the United States had been founded to foster. In addition,

the presence in Europe of the vast monuments of wealth and pride— monuments whloh Amerioa lacked— threw into high relief the continent's

poverty, filth, and degradation, whloh for many travelers distinguished

Europe from the New World* 143

Mark Twain made it a point to follow his oostatlo praise of the splendor of Versailles with a description of the Faubourg St* Antoine 66 where ’’misery, poverty, vice and orime go hand in hand." At Fayal

Twain recorded his first impression of European living conditions by noting the backwardness of fanners who raised and ground corn Just as their great-great-great-grandfathers did* And he went on to comment on the poverty, filth, and ignorance that followed on suoh inefficiency* Throughout this journey and the 1878 trip which he recorded in A Tramp Abroad, Twain had a sharp eye for the European living standard, and almost invariably found it far inferior to the

Amerioan level*

Howells, on his first view of England's industrial midlands in

1861, was as depressed as Henry Adams had been almost four years earlier, and he went on to speculate on the quality of life in suoh oities as Birmingham and Sheffieldi

I cannot impart the desolation and repulsion with whioh the towns of the iron and ooal distriot filled me* It seemed to me as if Ilfs must be nothing there but toil, and poverty, and hopeless contention with inexorable destinies and systems j as if there neither peaoe, nor health, nor virtue oould abide; as if Atheism would be a proper and justifiable thing, for an established religion there*®"

Howells no more than Adams then saw a prophecy of America's indus­ trial future In the smoke of Birmingham* Fresher to his mind was the picture of an Aroadian land where the hearty yeoman cleared a home­ stead in the forest while a vision of idylllo life cooled his sweat- beaded brow; Howells's first attempt at flotion had celebrated the 144

go pioneer.

In Italy the economic stagnation of Venloe was all tse evident.

Occasionally he reminded himself that the apparent indolence of the

Venetians arose from their despair of finding work, and he learned of the plight of an unemployed skilled workman whom he met on a dlligonoet

It is a more serious case when an artisan is out of work in the Old World than one oan understand in the New. There the struggle for bread is so fieroe and the competition so great; and, then, a man bred to one trade oaxmot turn his hand to another as in America. Bren the rudest and least skilled labor has more to do it than are wanted.**9

Henry Adams was struck by the bad diet, poor dress and unwhole­ some regime of the German schoolboys he knew at the Gymnasium. Their pale, flabby £fcoes told of meals of sauerkraut, sausages and beer, inadequately offset by the weekly two hours of regimented exercises allowed them. He observed that the boys never really played--the atmosphere of Berlin, he felt, did not enoourage recreation— and that their chief pastime in reoess periods appeared to be bullying smaller boys. His efforts to introduoe principles of fair play were unavailing. What these boys lacked chiefly was animal spiritsj with longing he reoalled schoolboys at home who tumbled breathlessly into the sohoolroom at the last minute with bright eyes and red 70 faces. In Sioily he made muoh of the filth and vermin both of the 71 town populace and of the backward, ignorant. Impoverished peasantry.

The question of poverty aside, the inferior material oomforte of Buropean life were often present to our travelers' eyes. Twain, an 146 hia Quaker City cruise* waa qulok to pralae comfort and good food when he foind them, but he left the general impression that the oreature comforta were something of an American monopoly. The abaenoe of aoap

In French hotela la perhapa an amusing annoyance* but the general feeling la that small but important oomforts are generally ignored in

Europe* On his European tour of 1878* he olaimed that the food in 72 Europe was of trifling variety* and that it was villainously oooked* he noted* too* a generally cheerlesa and depressing quality about the interior of European homes*

To Howells* the greatest deficienoy in Venetian life waa an ab- aence of any real sense of home* '/himaioally he used the aoaldino* an earthenware pot filled with glowing oharooal* aa a symbol of the penury that had supplanted the departed glory of Venetian palaces*

The almost universal habit of enjoying social life at oaf4a rather than at home also suggested to him an abaenoe of genuine home life*

Social life generally oame in for a good deal of comment from

Adams and Howellsj Twain did not get involved in aooiety on his first trip in 1867* and by the time he returned abroad he was so much a celebrity that anything like a normal social life waa virtually im­ possible for him*

On his first arrival in Berlin* Henry Adams waa so confident of the superior fascinations of European society that he could soorn

Boston and its petty affairs* In replying to his brother1s Thanks­ giving letter in 1858* Henry wrotet 146

There m s In your letter a sort of oontented despair, an unfathomable depth of quiet misery that gave me a plaoid feeling of thankfulness at being where I am. ...I be Here that I oan find more interesting soman among the very dregs of soolety here, than Papanti's Hall oan turn out.7*

Hut he found no fascinating women in the dregs of society or else­ where, and within a few months he was foroed to admit that Berlin had not as yet "shown itself in any violently attractive light." When opera, theater, and Blerstube failed to take the plaoe of genuine sooial life, his disillusion was so great that it spread to the whole

Continent. He had heard "sensible fellows" assert that New York was 74 ahead of any oity in Burope in its means of enjoyment. Within two more mcnths, he t hundered out in condemnation*

Society! Good God, a man might as well try to get into the society of the twelve Apostles as any society worth hawing here. They're as proud as damnation and as mean as the wile climate.••.The aristocrats all belong to the court and hate everything that smells of America.7®

At Dresden Adams was taken into a family whose friendliness helped ease his loneliness. Here he had a chance to see German lower-middle-class sooial life close up. At a oonoert, he wrote

Charles*

We met two of our friends, a Countess Rodoloromwski or something like that, and her mother. Goodness gracious, the formalities, the bowing and scraping and hopping up and down, the air of majesty with whloh those oorpulent ladies swelled about and visited their acquaintances at the other tables. My eye, wasn't it .76

The difficulty that Adams found in getting into society in Germany may largely be attributed to his oirouswtanoes. Coming from the Boston climate in whloh his birth gave him entry to every house he would have 147 considered worth visiting, he wee perhaps unduly sensitive to the neglect likely to fall to the lot of an unknown, unattached student in a strange country* But in London, his Identification with the minister should have given him any opportunity he needed to enter society} nevertheless he had his difficulties* He reported to 77 Charles that getting into sooiety was "a repulsive pleoe of work,* and went on to desoribe the "solemn stupid orushes" that passed for sooial gaiety, while he remesfcered with longing the happy absurdity of a more congenial American society, where one had drunk "the hot -78 draughts of our flirtatious style of youthful amusement. He never oeased to revll# the formality, stupidity, and lack of real, relaxed pleasure in fashionable sooiety. The court, too, came in for abuse} the debut of the Princess Alexandra he referred to disdainfully aa

*f Q an "infernal row." But he oontinuod to attend reoeptiona and balls assiduously throughout the seven years of his stay in London. He could not ignore London sooial life even though he scorned it and remained skeptical of Lothrop Motley's diotvsa that "the English dinner table and the English country house were the perfection of human society. " 0 0

Howells had had a full, pleasant sooial life before he went abroad* At Jefferson he had found the village a kind of paradise of informal gaiety during his adolesoence* At Columbus he had been ad­ mitted, as a young journalist, to the homes of the ruling powers both political and sooial where he found an easy ■mannered, refined pleasure 148

aa wall aa intellectual stimulation. Both inmedlately after hi a

arrival in Venioe and in hi a remini a oenoes many years later, ha

remembered tha aociaty of Columibua with gre at fondness. In hi a

fi rat latter from Venice to J. J. Piatt, a oloae friend in hi a

Coluzobua day a, Howalla complained that hi a "social nature,’’ that de­

lighted in talk and laughter, waa suffering under the handicap of

tha foreign language and under the oppreaaion of the "conventional

and aooial aid political tyranny" that oppreaa Buropean intellectual

and cultural life. lie concluded with tha kind of feverish generality

that we have found to be typical of the young traveler*

0 my easy-going brother poet, be happy in America, for in Europe you would be moat wretohedl Though you made much of the pioturea, and the palaces, and the ruins, I doubt if they would oonaole youi for Z assure you that our American freedom, social, intel­ lectual, and political, is better than all the past and present slavery of Burope. hoamver glorious in art and history that may be.®l

This waa a first impression, developed aiore fully in a letter three

months later to his sister. He doubted that he should ever overcome his loneliness in Venioe, for he found the Venetians "eminently vm-

aooial," both aa a result of their political discontent and as a

natural oonsequenoe of their mode of education. No young man sought

the company of a woman for intellectual pleasure, and as a result,

the young men were beasts, and the women were what oould be expected.

Howells then went on to extend his antipathy to the whole continent.

He stawned up by sayingi "The pleasure whioh we have innooeatly in 149

America, from our in restrained and unconventional social intercourse,

is guilty in Europe— brilliant men and women know something of itj

but they are also guilty men and women." He went on then to hope

that America would grow more and more unlike Europe every day, and

that he might eventually live in Oregon, as far as possible from the

09 influenoe of European civilisation, * We slight dismiss this effusion

as the impassioned whining of a homesiok youngster, exoept for the

fact that it represents an attitude that remained essentially un­

changed throughout Howells's residence in Venice, and for some time

afterward. With more extended observation he was able to refine and

support this generality with considerable detail.

In "A Little Genaan Capital," in Venetian Life, and in "Tonelli's

Marriage," Howells brought in two charges against European social

lifet it lacked the warm, hvsnan spirit which is presumably the sine

eua non of social pleasures, and, as a oonsequenoe. It led to immoral­

ity that in footed the whole social structure. At Stuttgart, where he

stopped a day on his way to Venioe, Howells was impressed with the

triviality of German sooial pursuits. Observing that the people

gathered to drink beer, ohat, and laugh a great deal over a very

little, he oonmentedf "It seamed to me here, as elsewhere in Europe,

that the people were only ohildron as yet, and that they oontented

themselves with many things that Americans despiseAnd immigrants who had known "the wider, freer, higher life of the New World” had

"grown into the manhood of freedom in America, and they oould not

shrink back again into the childhood of the old European subjection."*® 150

It it Interesting to note that Mark Tim In in 1867 oomnsnded the quiet*

orderly behavior of Europeans who had the good sense to relax and

enjoy the simple pleasures Instead of carrying on the worrisome con­ cerns of the day*s strivings into the evening and night* The pleas- Q J ures he described were exactly those that Howells found childish*

Like Henry Adams* Howells found European social life stiff and

formal* He did not attribute this peculiarity to consciousness of

oaste as Adams had, but rather to a regard for convention; in either oase* the result was a coldness that chilled real oonviviality and made society a betrayal of what it ought to be. At parties* he noted* the sexes voluntarily but rigidly separated themselves* even when dancing might have been expected to lower the barriers be­ tween them. Young people found it almost Impossible to get intro- ss duct ions* and even old acquaintances did not chat easily and warmly*

Another striking feature of Buropean society was the close watch kept on unmarried girls* They could neither go out alone nor receive young men* As a result their courtship was oarried on through inter­ mediaries and billets-doux* often after only the most oasual view of each other* and usually a marriage would be arranged without any Bfi really intimate friendship between the oouple. Speaking of -the

Paroaslna* the Little Mistress* in "Tonelli's Marriage*" Howells sayst

As a young girl she was at best a sort of caged bird* who had to be guarded against the youth of the other sex as i f they* on their part* were so many marauding and ravening oats*•• .The signora would as soon have thought of letting -the parrot walk across their oampe alone as her daughter* though the leoal dangers* either to bird or beauty# oould not have been very great* 8 7 151

Yet on other oooasions, H Owe Hi suggested that no woman oould go out alone without being exposed to ogling and perhaps even to Insulting oomaents from the men— often otherwise quite respect able--whose behavior justified the olose watch kept on girls*

The short tether permitted to young girls was oonsonant with another Venetian custom, namely, the handling of a betrothal as though it were merely a commercial transaction, Howells traced the history of arrangement of marriages, and noted that suoh an affair was still largely a matter of contract, without much referenoe to the feelings of the parties. In addition, he suggested that the parties themselves would probably be ooncerned enough about dower to arrange their passions to ooincide with their fortunes, "These passionate, headlong Italians look well to the main ohanoe before they leap into matrimony, and you ma y b e sure Todaro knows, in black and whi e, what the Biondina has to her fortune before he weds h.r/ 8 In "Tonell^a

Marriage," Howells makes great fun of the commercial aspects of court­ ship in Venioe and of the insistence upon observing conventions even when circumstances render them meaningless•

But Howells 1 s main objection to all these aspects of Venetian social life is that they have grown out of, and are productive of ljmnorality. The formal politeness that chills sooial gatherings arises from a fear that suoh freedom as marks American society would lead to evil oonsequenoes; on the other hand the rigidity of sooial barriers drives your g men to resort to the demi-monde where they are

OQ required only to be natural and agreeable," Both the careful 152 guardianship of unmarried girls and the arrangement of marriages,

Howells says* aro conducive to the infidelity for which Italian women are famous* After cautioning the outsider to discount Italian scandal* he goes on to suggest that the state of things is bad in

Venice because the Ite'-i, ■ oheory of morals does not conceive of opportunity without sin. Hence any woman offending against the striot code of social forma is as thoroughly damned as if she had really sinned* Therefore refor-i must bogir. by overcoming the social tolera­ tion of the genuinely impure as well as the wanton habits of scandal which deny virtue its due* Yet even if aoandal is offset by "gener­ ous disbelief*" a groat deal of real immorality remains* This is aooounted for* Howells bellevos* by the ignorance and dependence forced upon unmarried women* so that they break loose when the restraints are removed* In addition* convenient marriages between incompatible couples encourage the affeotions to s t r e y * ^ The

American system of permitting social freedom to the young assures development of self-discipline* wedded bliss* and marital fidelity*

Hark Twain was even less inclined than Howells to reoognise local variations of standards* and tended to condemn as imnoral what­ ever varied from the code of morals he had been reared under* On his Hawaiian trip he had been of a divided mind* for he spoke of the

"lascivious" hula* and of the "promiscuous"naked bathing together of the sexes* H e condemned the interference of the missionaries with customs vtiioh had been long established* but also objected to the 153

revival of such practices as the hula, which ho felt woro bettor for—

gotten* 91 In Constantinople ho referred to Mohammedan polygamy as

"immoral" and invented a "Slave Girl Market Report" on the pattern

of a Chicago cattie-market report* In Paris he looked out ibr

grisottos— but found then disappointingly plain— -and described the

object of the can-can a s 1 "to dance as wildly, as noisily, as fur­ iously as you can; expose yourself as much as possible if you are a woman**.." Ho concluded by connenting, "I suppose French morality is not of that straight-laced /alo7 description which is shocked at 92 triflesTwain's comments on European morality were usually general and superficial* He attributed wholesale and unspecified inxnorality to France and Spain, both in 1679, and many years later when his anger was aroused by Paul Bourget's remarks on America's laok of tradition*®® Twain's defense of American manners in A Tramp

Abroad sums up a frequent American position on society at large*

Even the most degraded woman can walk our streets unmolested, her sex and her wealaiess being her suffi­ cient protection. She will encounter less polish than she would in the old world, but she will run across enough humanity to make up for it.®*

Polish and humanity— those are the terms that epitomise Europe and

America*

Henry Adams, too, used France, and especially Paris, as a symbol of frlvolousnees• He hardly mentioned France in his early letters, but in The Education he recorded his early irrational distrust, and dislike of France "in the lump*" Yet when he visited Paris for the last three months of his first trip to Europe, he forgot to dis- 154

95 approve and enjoyed himself* As late as 1901 he referred to 96 Tahiti as "a sort of Paris in its refinements of wickedness.” He was not thinking directly of Paris here, but the comparison that came to mind suggests a conventionalized view of the city. Not until

1695 did Adams make the intimate acquaintance with France which was to last until his death. His oonznents on Ehgliah society did not touch on the morality of the Rngliah. but something of his attitude is indicated indirectly in a letter to Gaskell in 1872*

I assure you. the young women in the United States are lively to go. and the ourlous thing about it is that, so far as I know, these Boston girls are as steady as you like. In this Arcadian society sexual passions seem to be abolished. '.Vhether it is so or not. I can't say. but I suspect both men and women are oold. and love only with great refinement. How they ever reeoncile themselves to the brutalities of marriage. I don't know. ® 7

But this is after Adams's residence abroad, and the tone suggests an already well-developed sophistication. Adams's use of the phrase,

"sexual passions." represents a change from such a term as "baser instincts” which he might have used in 1858. Such key words as

"purity" are absent except for "refinement." which is used Ironioally.

To sunsnarize this dlsoussion of European social Ilfs and moral­ ity, we may well return to Howells, for he worked out most completely the alleged relationships between sooial life, morality, and civili- xatiofc. An interesting passage in Venetian Life shows theories of race superiority, equal 1 tarlanism, and self-relianoe mingled in a manner characteristic of Howells in the 'sixties. Turning finally to a consideration of o lass (a problem which is often conveniently 155 forgotten in the concern for national peculiarities), Howells com* ments first on the lack of overt evidences of pride or meanness between Italians of different classes, a lack not typical of Europeans elsewhere. Then he goes on to evaluate Italian oivllleationt

I have not seen the distinotion of rloh and poor made so brutally in Italy as sometimes in our own aol-disant democratic society at home. There is, indeed, that equality in Italian fibre vftiieh I believe fits the nation for democratic institutions better than any other, and whioh is perhaps partly the result of their anoient civilisation. At any rate, it fascinates a stranger to see people so mutually gentle and deferentialj and must often be a matter of surprise to the Anglo-Saxon, in whose race, reclaimed from barbarism more reoently, the native wild beast is still so strong as to inform the manner. The uneducated Anglo-Saxon is a savagei the Italian, though born to utter ignorance, poverty, and depravity is a oivllised man. I do not say that hie civilisation is of a high order, or that the civilisation is at all comparable to that of a gentleman among our­ selves. The Italian's education, however profound, has left his passion undisciplined, while it has oarefully polished his manner; he yields lightly to temptation, he loses his self-control, he blasphemes habitually} his gentleness is conventional, his civilisation not individual. With us the eduoation of a gentleman (I do not mean a person born to wealth or station, but any man who has trained himself in morals or religion, in letters, and in the world) disciplines the impulses, and leaves the good manner to grow naturally out of habits of self- command and consequent habitual self-respect.98

Note the as sumptions that lie behind this passage. There is a mono­ lithic entity, "civilisation,” whioh can be evaluated by an absolute moral standard so finely acoepted that it is merely implied rather than stated. That implied standard requires self-control (presumably of the sexual passion), purity, and reverenoe. This kind of self- ooamand is available to "any man who has trained himself "--an aris- toosaoy of personal worth rather than of birth.The "races" have 156

innate characteristics which can be altered only by long cultivation* but then only superfloially* Civilisation may merely be a veneer over

corruption* and the Anglo-Saxon* though a savage* is nobler than the

effete civilised man* This laet point connects Howells with the long

tradition of rationalistic thought that imagined mankind to have declined from an ideal primitive state in a remote paradise* Thus#

Howells takes his plaoe in the line of American writers who elevated the Noble Savage* and here most clearly identifies himself with

Twain's traveling innocent* We have already noted in an earlier ohapterthat Howells *s most frequently recurrent theme was the con­ trast of the nallve but noble "country mouse" coming up to the city and eventually showing his moral superiority to the oity-bred men he meets*

The natural paradise was often placed in America where the

Indian* the frontiersman* or merely the unoorrupted* innocent

American* stood as a nobler human figure than any spawned by the worn- out races of Europe in their dens of ancient* hereditary wrong* Once* at least* we find Howells whimsically suggesting that Anerica is Eden.

In Their Wedding Journey the Marches oome upon a pair of lovers mak­ ing no seoret of their affeotion. Far from suggesting that anything is improper in suoh a spectacle, Howells connents*

Some suoh pair is in the foreground of every famous Anerican landscape! and when I think of the amount of publio love aiklng in the season of pleasure-travel# from Mount Desert to the Yosemite* and from the parka of Colorado to the Keys of Florida* I feel that our oontinent is but a larger Aroady* that the middle of the nineteenth oeatury is the golden age* and that we went very little of being a nation of shepherds and shepherdesses • ^-00 157

While the comment is whimsioal in its form, its context leaves no doubt that it is seriously intended.

The contrast of the Old World and Hew as these young men saw it is aptly represented by a passage from Howells's rA Little German

Capital"!

Oh# civilisation of the Hew Worldl at the worst thou art purer and better than this of the Old. Thou oonest not down from kings and courts# but forth from each man's heart and brain# and spreadest from level to level# giving to the civil equal all the light of the social and moral superior.••.The two civilizations are unlike because one is the civilization of indivi­ duals and the other the civilization of classes. We happily have no olasses in the hopeless European sense. Where there is division among us it is by natural segregation# and not by legal and conventional separa­ tion. The well-worn sentiments of national self- praise are marvelously revivified by knowledge of Europe! and is it not worth the Journey thither to learn that the Fourth of July orations are trueTlOl

The view that Howells presents# then# is a complex one. A high standard of personal morality in America makes possible a free# in­ formal sooial life which in turn fosters a high morality. In addi­ tion the predominantly Anglo-Saxon character of the American people ensures a nobility that will restrain passion even if the surface manner is defeotive. And finally# free institutions and the absence of olasses and of the pride and servility whioh olaes relations imply contribute to the nurture of self-reliant men who are nature's noble­ men. 158

IV* Art, literature, and Cultural Nationalise

A primary object of any visit to Europe was to gain an acquaint­

ance with the great artistic and literary heritage of the older lands*

A long battle had raged over the quality of American art and litera­

ture, but since few critics had the temerity to insist that Anerloan

art was genuinely superior to European art, there were repeated

oalls fbr a national art and national literature commensurate with the glorious social and political reality that was the United States*^®

Travelers to Europe, when confronted with the treasure-house of

European art, reacted in several ways* Some of them acoepted the

clearly evident superiority of European art and set about making its glories their own, whether ignoring American shortcomings, accepting them, exaggerating them, or explaining them away* Those who chose to defend America against objections to her lack of achievement in the arts had several lines of defense to be used singly or in combin­ ation* First it was possible to claim that American works were ignored and undexvalued by selfish and obstinate British critioa merely beoause they were American* It followed, then, that American work, especially in literature, deserved to be better known than it was* A related argument stressed extenuating circumstances: America was preoooupled with subduing the wilderness and building a nationj her great a chi evcment— he r works of art— were her political institu­ tions and the free, fully realised lives of her lusty sons and daughters* It was also frequently predicted that Amerioa's greatest 159 glory was yet to oono, that as the future was hers In politics so, too, was It In art. rVhen the toil of winning a continent was behind,

Anerlca would then turn to art and show an unrivalled vigor there as elsewhere. Another possible defense was to denigrate the value of

European art, to urge that it was venerated only because it was old, to suggest that it nay have been great art in a ruder age of class tyranny, but that it had little to say to an age whose equal!tarianitn danmnded art embodying the spirit of freedom. A special— and promin­ ent-^variety of this last argument held that the questionable morality of European art made it ut fit for American eyes.

Henry Adams went to Europe to be educated for a oareer. Appar­ ently he had hardly thought of art before he sailed, but he shortly joined his sister Louisa, Mrs. Charles Kuhn, an ardent and experienced explorer of galleries, who quickly Introduced Henry to the art col­ lections of Berlin. It i s true that she wore him out, but she accom­ plished her object, for from that time forward he, too indefatigably pursued Art in its native haunts. Indeed, in his first letter to his brother he reflected this newly opened interest* "I shall get most pleasure and (I believe) advantage, from what never entered into toy calculations i Art."^^ In Home in July 1860, Adams suggested that art must exercise a refining influence, for he noticed that

Americans who osme to Rome to pass their lives dropped Bourbon whiskey in favor of lemonade, and hence rend with a groan of American 104 politics, which always had an odor of Bourbon about it. ^ And on this first trip to Europe he began to collect drawings and etohings. 100

During hia London years* guided by the young aesthetes of his

acquaintance, he extended his collecting to include paintings. Cki

his wedding journey in the suntner of 1872, again occasionally

tutored by Franois Turner Palgrave, and now enoouraged by a wife as

eager as he for exquisite objects d'art. he collected bronzes and

drawings, and for the home the oouple planned in Washington, they

gathered quantities of nruga, linen, glass, silver, porcelain, and

bric-a-bracAlthough his collection finally did not bulk large*

Adams continued all his life to seek exquisite little pieces whioh

reflected a cultivated personal taste.

Howells spent a great deal of his time in Venioe, he tells us in , ^ 106 Venetian Life, in looking at pictures. He felt himself to be in

the home of "the beautiful," and hoped to learn something of it*

perhaps for use in his poetry. He oomnented on the uselessness of

descriptions of pictures in conveying any real sense of what they

look like and, in fact, restrained himself so that we get few des­

criptions* and those only of the most general kind. Like Mark Twain

in The Innocents Abroad, Howells suggests that tourists are misled by guidebooks to lavish more praise on famed paintings than is merited by the beauties "half-obscured now by the religious dimness of the

Venetian churches

Mark Twain's spoofing of the Old Masters in The Innooonts Abroad is by now famous and over-famous. We forget sometimes that he did not claim to be a ocnpetent judge of art, and would not pretend that he oould become schooled In art in a few weeks in Europe. Much of what 161 has been assumed to be criticism of European art in The Innooentg

Abroad is really satire of the Amsrioan tourist who, lacking both educated taste and critical independence, consulted the guidebook for the proper emotions to display before paintings whose beauties 108 .\ere not so much imaginary as obscured by time. In addition he was surfeited with the endlessness of art galleries. Most tourists hare experienced his sense of indifference to treasures too lavishly offered, and Twain was merely more outspoken, not wearier, than most of his compatriots, he discovered, in fact, that he could admire the beauties of Raphael's "Transfiguration" because it was plaoed in a room almost by itself so that his attention was not distracted nor his ardor dampened by discouraging acres of oanvas.

Twain brings but two real charges against European art, and these are shared with almost equal intensity by Adams, Howells, and numer­ ous other travelers. His principal objeotion is to what he oonslders indecency in art. Nudity in European art had always disturbed

Americans abroad, none more thoroughly than Hawthorne, who again and again in his French and Italian Notebooks recorded his distaste for nude sculpture. Twain complained that the "Rape of the Sabines" 109 had been painted "for the legs and the busts," and a dosen years later he attacked Titian fbr a frankness denied to literature and even to sculpture. In "Titian Good and Bad," he showed a strangely mixed attitude. The old sculpture of Italy, he noted, had been clothed in fig-leaves in recent ysars in suoh a way as to oall attention to the nakedness that had gone unnotioed for oenturies. Yet painting, whioh 1 0 2

with its warmth of color could be Ihr more suggestive than the cold

marble of statuary, had no such restrictions. The two Venuses of

Titian he offered in evidence* One was perhaps not objectionable—

ho was well aware that some pictures of nude women suggest no impure

thoughts— but the other, "the foulest, the vilest, the obscenest

picture the world possesses," had no place in public view. It was

not just that Venus lay naked on a bed that was objectionable, but

the position of one hand and arm! The picture had clearly been

painted for a bagiio. T h e bestial painting in question shows a

reclininr woman with her right hand resting on the pubic area, iienry

Adams, too, at least on his first trip to E'urope, objected to nudity

in art. In Sicily he saw wl^at he referred to as an "improper

fountain,and from Rome he wrote that "it is tolerably oafo to

say that a statue of Venus, especially a nude, in one's parlor is bad taste, and still more, that, usually, a Venus is the most insipid 112 and meaningless work an artist ever makes," But there is no refer­

ence to "indecent" art by Adams beyond this early oommont,

Howells, like a number of his predecessors, used nudity in art

as a measure of the whole civilisation that produced it. He noted

that he had adopted his views concerning the nude in modern art from

Hawthorne, but because he had heard "honest people reproached with

false modesty for objeoting to the nude in art— honest people who had only their instinots and the decent amenities of our American life to guide them— " he was willing "to see how far they were 165 blameworthy." In tho Royal Gallery at Stuttgart, he found many "Ideal beauties••.not associated with clothes at all." Ho was especially disgusted at the idea that several of the pioturos were portraits of living beauties. "There is a certain frankness in German disso- lutonass," he commented. Those pictures, he concluded,

gave mo & bad opinion of the sort of civilisation which produced them, and the appetite— *it can hardly be called tho taste— whioh enjoys them. I did not care if our country "guarded its strangeness" to all art, rather than ever have such art as this; and I trust we may never have the culture neoessary for its admiration, nor the bad naJfvet

Howells was somewhat inconsistent in his critical theory in his early years. In Venetian Life he objects to Ruskin’s seeming to

Judgo a painter's work by the morality of the man. He could not see, he said, that a good man was necessarily a better colorist than a bad raan.^^ Yet in 1869 he lauded Mrs. Stowe's article on Lady Byron, for he lb It that the world should know how base, filth;-, and mean

Byron was in order that his literature might be reoeived only by those who had a taste for sensual things

The other major charge against European art, also shared by our three writer* with many other American commentators on Europe, was

that its content was suited to Old .Yorld monarohy, and had no real validity for the new democracy of the West. Twain complained about an exoessive number of martyrs in pre-Renaissance painting, and would have preferred historical soenes "suoh as Columbus returning in chains from the discovery of a world," or more "real man."^® 164

In addition. Twain protested ’’against tha groveling spirit that

oould persuade those masters to prostitute their noble talents to the

adulation of such monsters as the French, Venetian, and Florentine 117 Princes of two and three hundred years ago." At Stuttgart Howells

noted that the statues of gods from classical mythology seemed

"foreign to all popular feeling and knowledge," and went on to won­

der whether the sculptors who were one day to look for statues to

adorn public places in America would find nothing better in their

marble than these "trite Greek oelestials."118

This inappropriateness of public sculpture as well as tho fact

that frescoes depicting German history were not accessible to the

public led Howells to suspect that the renowned "atmosphere" of

Europe was a delusion. Men oould live in the presence of the monu­

ments of history and with "tho things that reveal and reflect the

beautiful" all around then, and still be wholly destitute of art*

The new order of the Vibst, although it had not had time to "adorn its

usefulness with the final grace of art," had produced a "social and

civic order which permits every life to be at once grand and simple,

that aake3 man superior to classes and only subject to freedom."

Howells predicted that the American future would outweigh all the 119 past and present of Europe. This defense of Amerioan culture

against the charge of barrenness eohoes the theory of art advanced

in Yihitman’s preface to the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grasst the

phrase "every life...at once grand and simple" sounds with Whitman’s voioe. In its emphasis upon the value of human personality, the 165

passage reflects Bnerson's emphasis on the cultivation of the good man

as the proper business of the American nation.

In literature* Amerioan critics had long called for a truly

national literature which would assert America's intellectual inde­

pendence of Europe, and which would gIt ® appropriate expression to

the democratic ideals of the young nation* Dependence on foreign—

especially English— models was deoried* This literary nationalism had been a cause celeb re for almost a century when Henry Adams echoed

such ideas in Lmdo n in the 1660's* He asked Charles to send him anything worth noticing in American literature* specifying "anything that owns a voice and not an eohoi that talks itself* and not Dante 120 or Tennyson." In 1862 he had oalled for a school* na national set of young men like ourselves or better* to start new influences not only in politics* but in literature* in law* in sooiety* and through­ out the whole social organism of the country— a national school of 121 our own generation." The model was English* but the essence of the plan was American cultural nationalism*

Howells on two occasions in his young manhood suggested that in its political institutions and national oharaoter the United States had a tremendous advantage whioh would show its effect in literature over the years* In an 1867 article on Longfellow* Howells noted the poet's faith in an American "native sense of beauty" which makes the American people foremost in the world In the appreciation of liter­ ature appealing to the sentiment and the imagination. In addition*

Howells held that our separation from the past let us appreciate it ia 166

an atmosphere "In which the corporal decay of dead errors and obso- 122 late good has not left a taint of pestilence." Artistic produc­

tivity^ too, was stimulated by a free society* Reviewing modern

Italian oomedy Howells observed the laok of social fiotion in Italy*

There were subjects enough in the social situation of Italy, but a

repressive ohuroh and government impeded the satiric treatment of a

oorrupt society by threatening the offending artist with prison or exile* Only in suoh "perfect freedom" as that of the United 3tates *125 oould there exist the novel of soolety as we have it*

Even while acknowledging European superiority in art, our

authors were able to salvage some American self-respect. They could

revel in the rich tradition of art and letters that Europe had to

offer* But by maintaining that the moral tone of European art was

low and that only freedom could enoourage the fullest production of

art and the fullest appreciation of it, they could claim the future

for America* And this was no more true in art than it was in politics*

V* History, Politics, and Amerioan Leadership

In no field did our three young men feel more confident of

Amerioan superiority than in the area of politics* However apolo- getio they may have felt about the contributions of the Halted States to art, literature, and architecture, or however conscious they may have been of the brevity of their nation's history, they had no doubts as to the glory of that history and felt unshakably certain 167

that America in the nineteenth oentury stood in the forefront of man­

kind and pointed the way toward an endless succession of even more

i OA glorious tomorrows. Their political theory was empirical,

individualistic, equalitarian, and progressive.

Their theory was empirioal in the sense that they examined the

experience of the Amerioan people in building the republic and com­

pared the visible results with what they saw in Europe. In a sense this prooess was not rationalistic in that it did not always care­

fully examine into origins, causes, and consequences of the conditions

they viewed. Thus they were able to compare the vigor of Americans with the indolence of Europeans, for example, and attribute the dif­

ference to national character, political institutions, or climate without talcing into aooount other pertinent factors as, for example, the vast difference in ratio between population and resources.

The theory was individualistic in maintaining that the chief virtue of the Anerloan political system was that it fostered the

fullest development of the individual. The main charge brought against European monarchy and aristooraoy was that it thsmrted individual growth. As a corollary, the theory was equalitarian in that it asserted the right of all men to the opportunity for full personal development. All three of our travelers were sensitive to class distinctions in Europe and quick to Maintain that no suoh dis­ abilities hampered the individual in the United States. Yet they were not levelers in any important sense, for eaoh maintained that political institutions oould merely permit the individual to rise as 168 high a* his ability, vigor, and moral character would ehable him to go. Adams adhered to hia patrician family tradition in recognizing his intellectual and moral superiority aa a kind of responsibility requiring him to give leadership to "our people." Howells expressed the relationships in a democracy by saying that New World civilisation spreads "from level to level, giving to the oivil equal all the light

i 2fi of the sooial and moral superior."

Their theory was progressive in that it oonoeived of history as an advance toward some goal aa yet unperceived but foreshadowed by the shape of the American sooial and political system. Hence it was possible for them to speak of "advance," "backwardness," and "oatching up." As America was in the van of this progress, so was she also the pattern for other societies to emulate and the great benefactress of all people struggling toward the light. As young men, none of these writers oonoeived that civilizations might not develop or retrogress at all, or might merely undergo changes that could not be identified as segments of a roadway naming between ohaos and Utopia, or might develop in some direction that did not lead toward the United States.

Since they went abroad during and immediately after the Civil

\%r, our travelers were especially sensitive about the national honor, and as is so often the oase, the navy became a symbol of Amerioan dignity abroad. Adams in Sicily regretted that we had only one war­ ship, and that a small one, in the harbor of Palermo. He felt that the national honor slight better be upheld by some line-of-battle 126 ships around Sioily and Naples. Howells was abashed to see the 169

Confederate flag raised over a boat in Lake Como in 1862, and

blushed for the injured dignity of his country. In The Innocente

Abroad, T m i n on one occasion complained of "braggadocio about

Amerioa and the wonders she can perform" when "Interrogation Point"

boasted that a couple of American gunboats oould knock Gibraltar 127 into the Mediterranean. But he himself had suggested a few

pages earlier that one of our turreted monitors oould blast the

little fbrt at Fayal out of sight. * 2 8

These are but symptoms; the real difficulty was that during the

Civil iVar and during the slow recovery afterward. Unionists were

seriously concerned fbr the fate of the nation, and their anxiety

showed itself in intemperate outbursts against other oountries, some­

times France, but more often England. Of the three men we are con­

cerned with, the one closest to the political spectacle, and the one

most ooncemed with political theory, was ^enry Adsns. His experi­

ence in London fills in the background of these expressions of

injured national pride in such a way as to show their origin and their implications.

The passions of the great secession winter persisted and grew in the years of Henry Adams's London residence. The patriotism aroused by the war was augmented by his consciousness that ho was representing his country in what he considered to be the unfriendly atmosphere of

London. Henoe, he was hypersensitive to anti-Union sentiment, and was quick to take umbrage at real or fancied British offenses. At the same time he oontinued to give what support he oould to his 170 father's policies, whioh constantly strove to conciliate the great

British power without betraying Union interests and without allows ing an advantage to the Confederacy.

At the first moment of his ministry* Charles Franois was faced with British recognition of Southern beligerenoy. Not only did such a measure imply that Britain would not give the active aid some Northerners expected* but what was more praotioally important* it permitted Confederate privateers to prey on Union commerce with­ out interference from the British navy. In his first dispatoh to the New York Times* written from London on May 25* 1861* Henry

Adams gave voice to the sense of betrayal that many Americans sharedt

The English people are looking on at the great struggle in whioh their natural allies are grappling with a powerful enemy* and m o d e m civilization and medieval barbarism stand with their hands on each other's throats* and at the very heat of the oontest* they* the bulwark of Liberalism in Europe* have no word of en­ couragement or hope fbr the one or the other* and make it their pride to stand neutral. Neutrality in a strug­ gle like this is a dlagraoe to their great n a m e . 1^9

The battle whioh had been won over the slave power in Washington* he felt* would have to be fought over again in London to show the

English where their interests lay. Events during the war repeatedly forced Amerioan and British interests into aonfliot so that Minister

Adams again and again found himself* as Henry put it* "maintaining the dignity of the country* and yet avoiding a rupture.**^®0 After his early letters to the New York Times* H«nry Ad sms never again exp raised faith in the motives of the British government. Both

Palmerston and Russell apparently sympathized strongly with the South* 171

and Adams believed that they "were waiting only for the most appro­

priate moment to recognize Confederate independence*

Howell*, too, shared this feeling toward the English, Even in

his quick trip through England on his way to Venice in Deoember,

1661, Just after the Trent affair, he was stirred by the animosity

of the British press. His own anger glowed through his next letter

to his father's paper: "Perfidious, full of hate toward Democracy,

angered with the aspect of a great country governed by the people,

rather than a class,— the English exult in our disaster, and would 131 do anything to oompass our ruin."

This anger at England developed in several directions. It led

to an assertion of the honest, open diplomatic tactics of the

Uhited States as against the orafty, malicious secret diplomacy of

the Old World, It fostered the idea that Europe is moved by material considerations and self-interest, the United States by a

unique political idealism which encourages the fullest realisation

of human happiness. This anger also showed itself in the ory that

the European ruling olasses would be delighted to see the threaten­

ing Vfostern experiment in democraoy fail, and would, indeed, con­

tribute as muoh as possible to such a failure* It led, finally,

to the assertion that the great experiment of the Ufoited States was

actually an example for the revolutionary peoples of Europe to

emulate, and henoe was a menaoe to the continuance of Old World

tyrannies, Beoause of the Justioe of its cause and beoause it

represented the virtually inevitable goal of historical progress, the 172

United State* must finally triumph and exeroiae a benevolent world leadership.

"Perfidious" was the traditional adjeotive applied to England^ the epithet was Napoleon's but it did good service for Americans during the Civil War. Henry Adams found this quality epitomised in her two leading statesman, just as American probity was embodied in his father. Adams believed that both Palmerston and Russell had been ill-disposed toward the Union, and had inflicted no more damage than they had done only because Charles Francis Adams had outmaneuvered them at every crisis, and beoause the American cause had had the strength of righteousness. The victory had been won by new means morally superior to those of Europet

We have never touched an intrigue and have not even a single seoret source of information, or a single channel of conmuni cation other than those that are regular and legitimate, with any Court or party in Europe. A system more directly opposite than this to the old practice of European diplomaoy, oould not be invented. Lord Palmerston and Lord Russell have belonged both to the old school of seoret and intriguing diplomacy*... V*s have got the better of both of them.*32

The attribution of idealism to America and of materialism and self-interest to Europe manifested itself in a prolonged debate over the issues in the Civil VKar. To British sympathisers of the South, the war was a Southern struggle for independence, justified by the right of self-determination and legalised by the United States Con­ stitution. Confederate sympathy was strongest among the aristocrats, who saw in the Southerners "gentlemen, cavaliers, and men that we can make our friends."**3 Further, they oontended, the "Southrons" were. 173

by virtue of their role as suppliers of raw material, free traders

whose principles should be dear to those who had fought tho battle

of reform, especially in the Anti-Corn-Law agitation in England.

Howells recognized the importance of the cotton famine occa­

sioned by the war in shaping European attitudes toward the conflict*

and he found concern with this problem cause to impugn the idealism

of Buropet

Europe is material* I doubt if* after Viotor Hugo and Garibaldi* there were many upon that continent whose en­ thusiasm fbr Amerioan unity (whioh is European freedom) was not somewhat chilled by the expensiveness of cotton. The fabrics were all doubled in price* and every man in Europe paid tribute in hard money to the devotion with which we prosecuted the war, and. incidentally, inter­ rupted the production of cotton.

Henry Adams* too, was learning that British public opinion was

Influenced by economics. The Confederacy had counted strongly on its

dominant position as a cotton supplier to awing European, and par­

ticularly English, sentiment to her favor.

In November, 1861, Adams made a trip to Manchester to investi­

gate the effects of the Federal blockado of Confederate cotton ports

on the English textile industry and to discover whether any serious move was being made to force the British government to break the

Federal blockade. His observations were reported in "a Visit to

Manchester1 Extracts from a Private Diary" published on December 16,

1861, in the Boston Dally Courier. Adams’s letters of introduction

led him exclusively to owners and managers of the mills* but even

among this group he found sympathy for the North and no desire to 174 break the blockade*

But from the first, sympathy for the North was strong on England'* political left. Foremost among Northern supporters were ’.Yilliam £•

Forster* Richard Cobden* and John Bright. All members of Parliament* all leaders in the movement for extension of the franchise* they early made known their friendship for the Union, and remained among its staunchest advocates throughout the conflict*

In their opposition to slavery the Radicals were not unique in

England; official policy* by now commended by all classes of British society, had for almost thirty years been one of anti-slavery* No social class or political party in England would have declared it­ self in favor of bondage* but the working-class reform movement had a special motive in opposing the slave power. In the slavery of the South it saw the officially decreed degradation of human labori in the North it saw the elevation of human labor to its just dig­ nity. In the South it saw a perpetual threat to the freedom of workin^non everywhere; in the North it saw the example of respected and justly rewarded labor which all the world should emulate*

Beoause of this speoial concern with the slavery problem* the

Radicals early emphasised its central importance as an issue in the war* But the dominant view in England and indeed throughout Europe remained favorable to the South and permitted our observers to aocuse Europe of upholding slavery*

In faot* the Civil Tfar relieved Unionists of an embarrassment* for they no longer had to apologise for slavery in proclaiming 175

America the land of the free. Howells recognized thia relief from a

difficulty in hie article, "Italian Brigandage"i

Vfi» ourselves presented to the nineteenth century..• the spectacle, anything but gratifying, of a great nation dead to honor and humanity, building its ghastly temple of peace and conoord upon the agony of slaTeej but the unconditional abolitionists of Charleston, who fired upon Fort Sumter, have changed all that.... Indeed, who are we to doubt of any nation's future, who hare the Union to reoonstruot and the whites of the South to civi li se?^7

A note of humility remains, but it is not apologetic. The passage of slavery removed the last barrier to attributing political idealism to the United States.

The charge most often repeated against Europe was that with its oppressive backwardness and superstition it prevented the full development of personality of most of its people. In the famous passage in The Innocents Abroad in which Mark Twain imagines a Roman of 1867 discovering the United States, his repeated theme is the opportunity offered the common mans he oan read, he lives in a house with glass windows, he owns land, he is not oppressed by droves of priests and soldiers, he worships as ho pleases, he uses modern, efficient methods in his farming. In justice it should be noted that Twain also satirises oertain American shortcomings, but the net effect of the passage is to emphasise tyranny by noble, state, and 1 church, and consequent human degradation.

The gravest objeotion that Henry Adams had to the German educa­ tional system as he saw it represented in a Berlin Gymnasium was 176

that strict government supervision of materials and methods assure*

a rigid uniformity in the training and its productt

They cramp the individual horribly... .The school was a mill, and out of it men were produced with certain characters, or rather a certain character, that has been ground into them for eight years, until it coul* never oome out. The faot that human nature varies, that one sort of development suits one mind and a wholly different one suits another! the fact, in short, which I believe is in all the world only in America practically oarried out, that each individual ought to walk the path for which God has best fitted him, and not that which man's regulations have planned out for him; this is wholly ignored#

Once again we find echoed here the idea that America is the home of

the natural man, unhampered by the restraints of a corrupt society#

The oonetant ally of a monarchical or aristooratio state is seen

as an oppressive ohurcht "priestoract" or "popery" as Twain and

Howells termed it. Adams, incidentally, seldom objected to the

Roman Church; in England, too, he made no consnent on the Church#

In Italy Howells was able to admire cathedrals and religious art, and even to be on friendly terms with several priests, but he

repeatedly objected to the meaningless ritual, to the "droning and mmming spirit of the modern nRomiih faith* Howells exempted the early church from his censure, but he felt that the modern churoh had lost the fervent and genuine faith of the Middle Ages and had become a refuge of superstition and a olog upon progress. Hark

Twain was even more outspoken about the Churoh. His objections were based on two observations# The very evident wealth of the Chproh as he saw it at Milan and elsewhere represented an oppressive foroe# 177

The tribute demanded of the people kept them Impoverished and vent to the support of numerous idle, well-fed, grasping priests, or was nested in useless* blasphemous display. Modern Italy, feoed with ruin, had "in effeot" oonflsoated the domains of the Churohi

This in priest-ridden It alyl This in a land whloh has groped la the nidnlght of priestly superstition for sixteen hundred years 1 It was a rare good fortune for Italy, the r that drove her to break from this

The other charge against the Churoh was oooasioned by the dis­ play of alleged saored relios. Pieces of the true oross. nails from the ozess (a kegful in all. Twain observed), the erown of thorns,

St. Veromioa's handkerchief, the miraculous olotted blood of St.

Jaauarius which liquefies slowly or rapidly depending on the number of worshippers who must have tine to donate— from all these

"monkish miracles9 Twain inferred that the Roman Catholio Churoh was an imposture designed te keep the people Ignorant, superstitious, and enslaved. At Leooo, in the interior of Italy,

lb were iatie heart and home of priestoraft— ef a happy, cheerful, oonbented ignorance, superstition, degradation, poverty, indolence, and everlasting unaspiring worth­ lessness. And we said fervently. It suits these people preoiselyi let then enjoy it alamg with the other anlnals, and Heaven forbid that they be molested.

By implication, the United States was free from superstition, priest­ craft, and their oemsequenoes of oppression and degradation.

The Anerloan desmnstratlon of the feasibility and virtue of popular government undoubtedly aroused hatred and fear in European supporters of autooratio government. How important these feelings 178 were la difficult to gauge, but there ia adequate evldenoe to a how that American demoorats believed than to ba significant. Undoubtedly tho f raquant oi tat ion of tha American example by Europe1 a revolution­ aries, eapeolally in the upheavela of 1848, did oonvince European ooneervativea that the United Statea was a peraioloue force.

Hovel la felt thia hatred in the Engl i ah nawapapera in lata 1381* The defeat of the alave power and the preaervation of the nation*a strength, Howells held,

•••baa developed the vorat paaalona and prejudioe in those who have witnessed itf but the aggressive hatred of demooraoy whioh it has vivified, eapeolally in the privileged olaaaea of England, has alarmed the dean- oratio principle in the English people to new and aotlve life,!**

In London during the War, Henry Adams similarly reoognlzed the dominant antipathy to the American system. In a letter to the Hew

York Tinea in September, 1861, he suggested that tha Confederate sympathies of the Big 11 ah ruling olaaaea were diotated by their fear of dsmooraoy at hornet

They have lived so long in dread of John Bright and his Democratic principles, that now they cannot real at the temptations to pound him, to sneer at him, and to hold him up to the British nation as the man who wishes to exohaage their beloved Queen, and their ancient and glorious aristocracy for a system of gov­ ernment like ours

What was strange in the attitude of Americana who objeoted to this hatred and fear on the part of Europe's aristoorats was that the hserioans also proolaimed that such fears were more than justified by the aotual state of affairs. Ia faot, the proudest olalm of our 179

t h m writers is that Amtrloa stands as a seductive example beokon-

ing the down-trodden of Europe toward freedom and new life* With

Adams at least# the claim inoludes American leadership in a world­

wide revolutionary movement toward liberty and human dignity*

This allegation of American leadership implies a theory of his­

torical progress# an idea that Europe will eventually become what

Amerioa is# and that therefore the United States is more advanced

than its Old World ancestors* When Henry Adams visited the battle-

front of the Italian insurgents at Palermo in 1859# he dearly showed

his sympathy for the struggle for liberation* He had earlier written

his mother of his detached amusement at European politics finally

finding the way that American affairs had gone a oentury earlier*

And now the Italian troubles

reduoe themselves simply to a single prooess# by which one more of the civilised raoes is forming itself on the ground that we have always stood on# and taking up as its oreed the some list of ideas that we have al­ ways declared to be the heart and soul of modern oivil- i sat ion.*-*7

The note of oondesoension here is borne out b y Adams's doubt that the people of Italy were really oapable of using American meohaniaas of dsmooraoy* A plebesoite on annexation to Piedmont

Implied "a great compliment to the strength and life of hnericanism, that Hapoleon and Victor Ibsnenuel and Garibaldi think it neoessary to go back to our foundation principle as the souroe of their author­ ity*" But he found too muoh "demonstration" in European popular elections# and found them something "very like a satire on our 180

iip theories." Howell* similarly doubted tha Venetian understanding of liberty* although remembering his doubt years later ha distrusted it. "1 felt* In spite of myself," he reoalled, "that the Venetians* though they longed for liberty so magnanimously, longed for it with- 149 out a true sense of its nature*•• •" The Venetians appeared to expect that universal suffrage would solve all their problems, but

Howells supposed that they would be oontent with liberty after they had been free long enough*

But if Anerioa had a monopoly on liberty, it was not because she wua unwilling to share it* Americans abroad seemed to feel an obliga­ tion as representatives of the world*s greatest dsmooraoy, to encour­ age movements of liberation wherever they were found* When Howells arrived In Venioe in 1881* he found the Italians chafing under

Austrian occupation* Patrlotio Italians— whioh apparently included virtually all Italians— took part In the demonstration against

Austrian rule* They stayed away from public gatherings, walked only under the arcades of the Plassa San Marco while the Austrian band played in the square* and defiantly displayed the forbidden red* shite and green* Howells sympathised with the demonstration both because he was young and because he was the "representative of a people whose ideal was freedom «n He oould not officially recognise 15Q the demonstration but he shared it as far as possible* And in reviewing modern Italian literature, Howells pointed out its frequent democratic coloration**®* 181

In Biglamd, Hsnry Adame*e acquaintance with Radical leaders who

supported tha Union o a via a had tha effect of mowing him toward an equalitarlan position, and of making him an outspoken, passionate democrat* In defending tha Union against British attacks, ha found himself Increasingly opposing arlstoeraoy and privilege.

To tha English Radicals of tha nineteenth century, "freedon" and

"dignity of labor" were synonymous with the naiversal franohisej every other reform was subsidiary to, or dependent on the attainment of manhood suffrage* The Reform Bill of 1832 had brought under the franchise only a portion of the middle class, and had left the work* ing class with no vote at all* As late as 1886, John Bright oould declare that eighty-four out of one hundred Englishman were excluded from the franchise, and that one-half of the members ef Parliament were returned by three per oent of the grown men of the Kingdom*

Throughout the Anti-Com-Law agitation and the Chartist movement, extension of the franchise was a major Issue* By the 1660fa, the impulse for reform, thwarted by the suppression of the Chartists In

1848, broke out again in renewed agitation for manhood suffrage, this time to be suooessfully concluded ia the Reform Bill ef 1867*

Throughout the Jarsrloan Civil War, the struggle for democracy was the most important domestic issue in Bogland*

Early in 1883 Adams dlsoorered at first hand the power of the working-class reform moveamntj brought faoe to faoe with John Bright and his demooratlo principles, he reoognlsed a kinship between

Amerioan institutions and feiglleh reformist aspirations* Gtooe again. 182

u h« had in Slolly, Adams pointed out that a Bur ope an oountry was

gradually achieving the democratic revolution America had oompleted 162 el£ity yaara earlier.

On March 23, 1883, tha Trades-Unions of London hold a groat

meeting at St. Jama a Hall to axpraaa support of tha Forth. Mini a tar

Adams had baan 1 nritad to attand but daellnad apparaixtly on tha

grounds that ha eould not proparly appaar at ao parti sain a masting.

Ha did, however, sand Hsnry to ait in tha audisnos and raport tha

masting. Hanry's raport, shortly forwarded to 3asard, took oara to

point out that tha twenty-five hundrad paopla praaant raprosantad a

"particular and distinct olaaa of popular sentiment," but want on to

say that thay raprasentad a substantial part of tha English popu­

lace.15® Both John Bright and Profassor Baaslay of tha University

of London wars reoeived with "anargatio sympathy" whan thay point ad out

tha identity of interests between tha Horth fighting for free labor

and repuhl loan institutions in Amsrioa, and tha trades-uni on moTamsnt

struggling fbr batter working conditions and politloal enfranohiae- msnt in England. "If it did not hare a direct bearing on internal polities In ftigland, it needed little of doing so," Henry reported.

Thera was not even a profession of faith in the Go-rem­ nant of England as at present constituted. Brery hos­ tile allusion to the ariatooracy, the Churoh, the opinions of tha "privileged olasses" was received with warn ohears • Every allusion to the republican insti­ tutions ef America; tha "sunlight" of republioan in­ fluence* was oaught up by tha audience with vehement applause. 188

By the end ef the report, Henry Adame had virtually dropped hie poee of objectivity and let hie enthueiaem epeak out*

After another meeting, whioh he deeoribed ae "a demooratio and eooialiet meeting, moet threatening and dangeroue to the eetabllehed etate of thing*," he euggeeted to Charlee the way in whioh Jmerioan influence might operate on Europe *

I never quite appreciated the "moral influenoe" of Amerloan demoeraoy, nor the oauee that the privileged olaaaea in Europe have to fear ua, until I aaw how direotly it works, At thla moment the Amerloan queetlon ia organising a vaat maaa of the lower ordere in direot oontaot with the wealthy. They go our whole platform and are full of the "rights of man." The old revolutionary leaven is working steadily in England, You oan find millions of people who look up to our institutions as their model and who talk with utter oontempt of their own system of government, Vfltthin three months this movement has taken a development that has plaoed all our enemies on the defensive! has driven Palmerston to sue for peaoe and Lord Russell to proolaim a limited sympathy* I will not undertake to say where it will stop, but were I an Aiglishman I should feel nervous, 1% have strength enough already to shake the very orown on the Queen's bead if we are compelled to employ it all. You are not to suppose that we are Intriguing to oreate trouble. I do not believe that all the intrigue in the world oould oreate one of these great demonstrations of sympathy. But where we have friends, there we shall have support, and those who help us will do it of their own free will. There are few of the thickly populated dietriots of England where we have not the germs of an organisation that may easily beoome demooratio as it is already anti- slavery. With suoh a ourb on the upper olasses, I think they will do little more h a m to us. The oeoduot of affairs of that great republic whioh though wounded itself almost desperately, oan yet threaten to tear down the rulers of the oivilised world, by merely assusing her plaoe at the ****.£{ the naroh of desmoraoy, is something to look upon, 184

Nhils he remained in Europe after 1863, Benry reverted again and again to the idea that the United State* was the embodi­ ment ef republloanlam to whioh the revolutionary peoplet of Europe looked for Inspiration and guidance* If Napoleon III attaoks ua he attaoka the "great embodiment of the Revolution, and we ehall know how to shake a fbw of those orasy thrones for him, if he drives ua 154 to it*” We have the means of destroying England without hurting 1S7 ourselves• If Napoleon and Russia onoe deolare that free Poland means Russian Turkey, *• ."you'll see a row in whioh the demooraoy is sure to oome up in the end I Our rebels must expeot no aid from hare*..with sueh emergencies staring kings and arlstooraoies in the faoe. "The gradual restoration of the Ublon, ,,will, ..be simul­ taneous with a general republioan movement in Europe, •*.The real 189 question is one of political reform." "I leek for a great movement 160 toward liberalism some day." dad in the general election of 1866 he watohed John Stuart Hill and "Torn Bream” Hughes returned to

Parliament-^, symptom of the strength of growing republicanism.

Amerloan lnfluenoe on England was by now so strong, he felt, that the United States need only restore peaoe and arrange Its finances to oarry through a new reform in England within tan years, "Then there will be another long step forward here,”

The idea ef Amerloan leadership in the movement toward dsmooraoy remained strong, Howells, writing in 1846 on the type of momawnta appropriate for the oommmaoration of the Civil War, saidi "The idea of our war seams to have interpreted itself to us all as faith in the 186

justice of our cause, and in our Imautable destiny aa God'a agents,

to giro freedom to mankind« Throe yoara later ha praised an

addreaa by John Lothrop Uotley In these terms*

He affirms the sufficiency of nan to the olrll needs and duties of men, and teaohea 'that the hope of the world Ilea In the Amerloamlsaticn of the world, en­ forcing all with a fervid faith in democracy, and a patriot! an enlightened and o on firmed by studies that hare nade the past of Burope part of his own experi­ ence.1®*

Through all their observations on Europe, our three writers seem

far no re conoemed with oontrasts to America than with similarities.

Of course differenoes make more dramatio reading-matter than similari­

ties, and the traveler has always sought the new and strange qualities

in the lands he visits. In addition, the 111-temper of wartime may have enhanced the sense of America's alienation from Burope for Adams and Howells. On their earliest journeys to England, it is true, both

seemed to believe that some kind of natural allianoe ought to exist between the two oountrles, but both believed that it had been be­ trayed. Henoe In almost every field of observation the three young men thought of the United States as something unique and radically different trim the old world. Their fellow tourists of other nationalities they viewed with eusplolon and dislike. The national characters of other lands ocmpared unfavorably with the now kind of man who had ssbsrged under the challenge of an unspoiled continent and the benefioent effect of free institutions. The Old Bbrld's vast treasures of art were tainted with ancient wrong and personal imsMjrallty, And in politics so olearly ants Amerioa the pattern fbr 186 the future that it wta almost possible to forget that the society of the United States was a transplantation from Burope*

These first trips to Europe were themselves a demonstration of the thousand ties of literature* oomeree* institutions* and blood relationship that bind the Rev World to the Old* If in the flush of disocnrery our travelers sometimes forgot that they were returning to our old home* the influences of a oonoon cultural tradition were at wort: nonetheless* and the time would come when they would turn baok once again to find origins and oonmmity* CHAPTER V

DISILLUSION AND DESPAIR

What I hare triad to do In this dlaaartatlon la to suggest what ldaaa of Euro pa and Jnarloa thraa young nan had at tha begin- nlng of thair oareers. I do not now propoaa to traoa In datall how thay moved from thoaa ldaaa to tha several varieties of bitterness and dial llusianmemt that thay auffarad whan thay raaehad tha anda of thair long liras, but merely to auggaat tha broad pathways of tbalr development,

I

Hanry Adama haa baan tha swat dabatad of thaaa thraa men— raaaonably ao, I think, baoauaa hia mind was aaaily tha moat complex of tha thraa, and in hia Education of Hanry Adama ha undartook ta baffla hia raadara and auooaadad with unmatohad brilliance. Tat I think tha starting point wa hare indicated— like Adams's own start­ ing point for hia curre of degradation in tha thirteenth century of

Hant-Saint-Michel and Chartres— may permit us to projeot a ourra of hia 1 ntelleotual development whioh will demonstrate in hia writings a logioal ooharanoa not lmnediataly evident*

What our survey of Adama'a ooaaaonta on Europe and Amerlea shows*

I be 11 are, la that Adama was not speaking whimsloally or metaphori­ cally in Tha Education when he spoke of his eight sen th-oantury mind* 188

or of hia education designed aooording to eighteenth-oentury princi­

ples. Precisely what variety of American eighteenth-oentury mind he

had wo oaxxnot say with oomplete oonfidenoe. He was. I think, more

egalitarian than hia own great-grandfather, less so than Thomas

Paine. This would leave hist somewhere olose to Thomas Jefferson.

Adams, in his youth, believed in the ability of men so to govern

themselves as to work their own perfection; he believed in a "natural"

right of men to exerolse that ability; he believed that the end of

government m s to faollitate— or at least to avoid impeding——that

perfective prooesst he believed that the republiean structure of

government was the product of an ancient tradition Justified in nature and temporarily obsoured by monarchist tyranny; he believed that democraoy was yet oapable of rewarding a faithful servant. So he believed when he returned eagerly to his native land, and gravi­ tated as by a kind of family destiny to the oenter of power.

And idiat happened then? One theory or another is advanced to explain why Henry Adams after 1876 turned his back on the democraoy he had tried to serve, why after 1885 he resigned from his civilisa­ tion and went wandering in far-off seas, why in 1896 he dlsoovered the Middle Ages with the enthusiasm of youth, why in the first decade of the twentieth oentuzy he took the rostrum to prophesy the doom of civilisation, and why in the last decade of his life he sang

French ballads of the twelfth oentury. ooasted the shores of Cathol- iolsm. and awaited death with a serene impatience*

Clearly something want wrong; indeed, many things meat wrong, and 189

no o m of thorn wta without Its of foot on his outlook.

Tho career ho had anticlpatod aa a «arrant of demoo racy wont as­

tray* Be two on Dsoember, 1868 and October* 1870* Adams turned out a

steady flow of artlolea to tho Hat Ion, tho Korth Amerloan Review* and

British quarterlies on tho oourse of events in hashing ton. Both tho

tone of those artleles and tholr appearanoe in suoh Journals oon-

firmed what Adams had announced as his Intention! to influenoe tho

oourse of events by aoting upon a few cultivated mindsThis com­

mentary

tical journalism by Its insistent analysis of events in the light of

the basio theory of demooratio government* In "The Ses*>n” of 1869*

for example# he disoussed suoh matters as reoonst motion* the tenure-

of-offloe bill* the reform of the revenue system# civil-servioe

seform* contraction of the ourrenoy* and the Alabama elaitns* all with

reference to the basio theme of the need fer reform of the legislative

system to eliminate the cumbersome machinery whioh impeded the dia- patoh of essential business and permitted the Congress to Invade executive prerogative**

In a more ambitious researeh projeet on the effort of Jay Oould

and Jim Fiske to corner the gold market* Adams used the incident te

demonstrate the threat posed by a strong and corrupt money-power

constituting a oenter of influenoe rivaling the government itself**

These ventures In reform Journalism were intended to admonish the government* but they stand also as a reoard of Adams's growing disil­ lusion with a governmental system no mors able to resist oorruption 190 than tha Burope an systems It had supposedly rendered obsolete. By the tine an opportunity earns in 1870 to teaeh history at Harvard,

Adams was ready to leave Washington.

Another experlenoe strengthened Adams's growing tmeaslness over the demooraey he attempted to serve* In 1876 he was aetive in forming a group of Independents to foroe a reform oandidate on one of the parties in the Presidential election of 1870. Adams solicited money to purchase a Boston newspaper as an organ for the new venture, arranged meetings, drafted statements, and was instrumental in securing the leadership of Carl Sohurs. With the nomination of Hayes,

Sohurs deserted the Independents to return to the Republican Party*

His defeotlcn was the death-blow to the reform movement and to Henry

Adams's direct political activity* In June of 1676 Adams unburdened his disappointment to his student and political aide, Henry Cabot

Lodge* "Politics have eeased to interest me*...The Cauous and the maohine will outlive me."* Adams did not actually lose all further interest in pelitioal affairs, but he never again actively took part in them* His light, tautly rigged ora ft of aristeoratio leadership of an erring dsmooraoy broke up on the rooks of money politioa*

In addition to these experiences, Adams reoonsidered "the phil­ osophical bases of our dsmooraoy." Pour of his books either dealt directly with this theme, or touohed upon it, and eaoh of them was the record of one aspeot of the failure of the Amerloan dream as Adama had oonoeived it in his London days* 191

The than* a n a r g M aarliaat tad no at olearly In Tha U f a of

Albert Gallatin, a byproduct of Adams1 a research for hie History.^

Of all the eaa he wrote about, Adams most admired Gallatin, fer

Jefferson's Seoretary of the Treasury was a man who strove skillfully,

unselfishly, and almost suooessfully to sake his dreaua of a new order

of mankind a reality*

Gallatin need not have migrated to the new world, Adams noted,

for his abilities and his high moral eharaoter would have won him

eminence anywhere • But the Genevan as a young man was a Rouaseavdsti

he believed in the possibility of building a better world in the

forests of Amerioa* He settled in a wilderness retreat at George's

Creek, Pennsylvania, and, although the isolation and lack of mental

stimulation soon palled, he never relinquished his dream.** Zt a aimed

inevitable that onoe started in polltios Gallatin should Join the

party of Jefferson, for when the first Demooratie-Bepublioan admin­

istration took offioe in 1801, its program, as Adams desorlbed it, was "as broad as society itself, and aimed at providing for and guiding the moral and material development of a new era,*— a fresh

raoe of man." This position is essentially that whioh Adams had held at the and of his London residenoe in 1868 d m n he had insisted on the unique oharaeter of the United States as an experiment in demooratio government, and emphasised its divergence from the European monarchical tradition* 192

In the life of Albert Gallatin* and indeed in the History whioh foll«n»d it* Ad— went on to record tho failure of this groat experiment In demooratio goveraent. In 1868 be was trumpeting the

•uooeos of the Amerloan systemj by 1879 he was announcing that it had failed ae early ae 1814* He identified a mmber of reasons for this ihilure.

First of all* the hostile powers of Burope* Aigland under

Canning and Franoe under Hapoleon* were selfish* treaeherous* axul oontemptuous of the puny power of the United States* "Hr* Jefferson's hope of haring to swallow less foreign insolence than his predeoessore was by ^ 8 0 0 ^ thoroughly dispelled*•• .Between the exquisitely exas­ perating satire of Hr. Canning and the pro smptory brutality of _8 Bonaparte* he was absolutely extinguished."

A seoond difficulty was that oiroteutanoes foroed one step after another that went oontrary to the theory of a decentralised govern­ ment* eoonomioally operated* at peaoe with foreign powers * and delloately responsive to the will of the desnoraoy* The failure of the embargo* the loss of marine oommeroe* the annexation of Louisiana

"by an aot of sovereignty as despotic as the corresponding aots of 9 Franoe end Spain*" the development of armaments* and the piling up of an undreamed-of national debt oonvinoed Jefferson that "circum­ stances must by their nature be stronger and more permanent than men."

By 1814* Gallatin's statesmanship had become merely a struggle with oonorets faots* without regard for a priori principles.^ 108

But th* basio difficulty, finally, lay in tha Jeffersonian

theory itself. Gallatin, Madison, and Jefferson had "put too high

an estimate upon h t s a n nature. If the nation were oomposed

entirely of men whose intelligence and unselfishness matched those

of suoh leaders, or wren of the Hamiltonian opposition, the great

experiment night have suooeeded. But they had not oaloulated on

the rise to power of selfish, unscrupulous non, and between 1850 and

1 8 49 the politios of the United states presented "as melancholy a -12 speotaole as satirists erer held up to derision."

By the time that he had oompleted the Life of Albert Pali at in in 1879, Henry Adams had abandoned the political theory that was a heritage partly from his own family and partly from the Jeffersonian tradition whioh the older Adamses had opposed. With it he abandoned the idea that Asterica was a new order for the agesj he need no longer insist that Jmerloa was wholly distlnot from Europe and superior to its he was ready to turn baok and find ties with the old world. 15 In a sense the John Randolph volume, whioh Adsns did in 1882 for the Jumrloan Statesmen series, and even the History itself are anti-olimaotle to our theme. The biography of Bandolph dramatised the futility of an undue trust in h e w n nature, for here was a man who oombined with the Republicanism of Gallatin and Jefferson the violent, self-indulgent temper of a Southern aristocrat. From an opening ohapter suggesting the unfort \mate effeots on Randolph's 194 developing nature o f indulgence, idleness, and doninanco over dog, horse, and slave, to a oonclualon reproducing tha aanlle raring a of tha same mind atlll Tain and self-indulgent, Adama showed how a willful, arrogant, ambltloua man oould make a mockery of democratic prooeaaaa.

The Hlatory of tha Admlnlatratlcma of Thosms Jefferson and Jamca

Mad la cm dooumanta In detail tha frustration of demooratio hopes by foreign powers, by foroe of circumstance, and by flaws in democratic theory* Opening with a surrey of tha oondition of tha United States in 1880, Adama move a from New England, through tha Middle Statea, to the South, He follows then with a famous statement of American ideals. It has usually been held that this statement refleots

Adams's own aapir&tions for hia country. I would suggest, rather, that oomlng when it does in hia career, after hia disappointments in reform politics and after his admission of the defeat of hopes for a new society in a new world, in Gallatin and Randolph, the statement of ideala in the History has more historical and literary value than personal interest to Adams• ^ Ho ia recording what Americans in

1 8 0 0 hoped and indeed expected. If he reoorda these expectations with considerable fervor, he doea so because he had onoe shared them ardently. This view of the matter is supported by p lacing the chapter, "Amerloan Ideala," against the background of the survey of the American oondition whioh preoedes it. That survey puts repeated emphasis upon the primitive oharacter of the Amerloan nation, upon its eooneedo weaknesses, and upon its scattered population. What 196 emerges from the oontrast it a sente that the idealism far exceeded anything that might justly hare been expected to develop from the oircvanstanoes pictured*

The oentral narrative follows the events of the Jefferson and lladlson administrations from the earliest difficulties over patron­ age through to the culmination of the Democratic-Republican regime in the liar of 1812, reverting periodically to the unifying idea that oiroumstanoes and the human weakness of Jefferson and hie associates foroed retreat from the ideals of 1800# The final book of the work surveys the state of the nation in 1817. In some respeots the oonoluding chapters of the History are a deliberate oontrast to the opening ones, for they emphasise the growth of the country in population, stability, and economic strength. But they make dear also that the four Republican administrations had set the pattern of government in lines that forecast a sooiety less radloally different from that of Burope than had onoe been hoped.

In his chapter on "Literature and Art," too, Adams reoognlsed the continuity of the Buropean tradition in the new republlo. He noted the olaaor for a d is tine tire art and literature oonsonant with tho life of a democraoy, but suggested that the anteoedents of the old world were likelier to furnish the models for Amerloan develop­ ment than the art of the Shawanee or Astecs,*5

Only In the national character did Adams disoorer a significant difference from the Buropean past. He noted as distinctively

Anerloan traits antipathy to war, less political oapaoity than had 196 been hoped for in the early days of the republic, a high level of general intelligenoe (manifested by superior gunnery in the War of

1312) offset by the lack of outstanding individuals, and a general relaxation of severity In religion, of formality in maimers, of polish in speech.

The climax of the History is a famous series of questions,

Adams did not, 1 believe, intend these queries as rhetorical; they represent very real doubts in his mind, and his phrasing of then suggests eome of the difficulties that the Halted States had indeed encountered after 1817, H® asked, for instance, "HThat corruptions would their relaxations bring?,•.What interests were to vivify a society so vast and uniform!*..TThat object, besides physical content, must a democratic continent aspire to attainT" Only another century of experience would tell.

That oentury of experience had already run through six of its 17 deoades when Henry Adams wrote Democraoy, This novel is a drama­ tisation of the impasse whioh demooratio government had reached in the United States by the time of the Grant regime, Mrs, Idghtfoot

Lee, an Intelligent young widow, tires of her meaningless philan­ thropies and moves to Washington to observe demooratio government at work. She is soon surrounded by civil servants, diplomats, lobby­ ists, and the Congress itself represented in the person of Senator

Batoliffe of Illinois, It 1 s at onoo evident that Ratollffe is vain, ignorant, and uncultivated; what 1s not at onoe olear is that he is 197 corrupt as well* But before his Tonality is made clear, Mrs. Lee

Is attraoted by the virility and praotloal effectiveness of the

Prairie Giantt indeed, she is not without her ambition, and is will­ ing to attaeh herself to a man so olearly headed for the Presidency,

But through the intervention of friends Mrs* Lee is made to see the moral ebtuseness of the politician, and she rejeots him,

Adams uses the setting as an opportunity to lampoon all sorts of flashing ton nonsense. He shows the sad oondition of an uninformed, rather dull, but orafty Indiana farmer trapped into the Presidency and Intimidated by the real importance of his job as well as baffled by the baok-stair methods of handling it. He ridicules the aristo- oratio forms of society that have grown up in the democratic capital• He re-creates the shenanigans of a political campaign.

But more important than all theso side-issues ia the oentral problem of corruption.

Yet Democracy is more than just a reform novelt it is a demon­ stration of the tragic dllenaa of demooratio government. Various oharaoters are assigned different philosophies of politics, so that in many passages the novel is in effeot a Platonic dialogue. This makes it possible for Adams to introduoe various points of view in attractive guises* it enhances the possibility of error in attribu­ ting any particular view to Adams, In a sense all the major ideas expressed are valid* because they are both valid and oontradiotory the tone of the novel is prsrvalently ironic* 198

Early in Mrs, Lee's 71a a hi ngton residence, Nathan Gore, an ideal­ istic Sew Englander, not unlike Adams himself in his London days, declares his faith in democracy on the grounds that it is the inev­ itable consequence of society's development, and the only path worth following, Mrs. Lee asks Gore what might happen if the demooratio experiment should destroy itself "with universal suffrage, corrup­ tion, and communism.n Gore evades the question by retreating inte oosmio complaoenoy, and for the moment the matter rests, Adams him­ self reverts to Gore's point of view muoh later when he defends majority rule on the basis that mankind's hopes are staked on it, and that so far, with all its deficiencies, it has served man better 19 than the "popes ever did with their prettier prinoiple."

Yet the weaknesses of dsmooraoy are brought up insistently.

The electorate is unintelligent and easily led. The leaders are more loyal to party than to prinoiple. The ideal of serving the publio good is useless, fbr no one oan identify the publio good. The votes of Congressmen are bought in the interest of bills to loot the treasury. And in the midst of all this swamp of betrayed demooratio hopes stands the figure of Silas P, Ratoliffe.

If Ratoliffe were but another Senator Dilmorthy, the villain of

Twain's The Gilded Age, or if he were only a portrait of James 0,

Blaine, Denooraoy would be nothing more than a oall to throw the rasoals out. But Ratoliffe has his defenses, and while they are not thoroughly oonvinolng, they oaxmot be swept aside without oonsidera- 199 tion# He admits, for example, that he Juggled the results of an election to aasuro his own victory, but he claims that he did so to

save the Union from betrayal in time of war. He admits, too, hawing secured the passage of an illegitimate subsidy bill so that his party oould receive one hxxidred thousand dollars and continue to serve the nation whose ideals were its own. This twisted thinking is not enough to oonvinoe even lira, lee, who is willing to understand fiatoliffe, but the Senator has one final argument that none of the idealists in i£rs. Lee's coterie oan refute« he 1 s the embodiment of the democracy) he is the great ora ft amen of praotioal affairs) he gets things done#

Senator Ratoliffe is the Just reflection of the moral and intel­ lectual stature of the Amerloan people. His short coming a measure the failure of the American dream. At the opening of his History,

Adams made it d e a r that the destinies of the United States were staked without reserve on the improbable prinoiple of elevating the average man to "an intellectual and sooial level with the most favored."*® In his conclusion, he held that the intelligence— by whioh he meant quiokness, "Yankee aouteness or smartness"— of the average American was superior to the European average, but that "much dotf>t remained idiether the intelligence belonged to a high order, or proved a high morality#"^® "So long as there are ignorant and vicious multitudes,” he had written in 1876, "so long there will be

Tweeds and Sweeny! to organise and manage the politioal machinery of the oauous and the convention.American demooraoy, as represented 200

by Senator Ratcliffe# had produoed a dubious morality# but the alter­ natives to demooraoy were still less desirable#

Adams does not pretend to resolve this dlffioultyj Urs• Lee

retreats from the soenei I want to go to Egyptj #. .demooraoy has

shaken ay nerves to pieoes. Oh# what rest it would be to live in ?2 the Great Pyramid and look out for ever at the polar starl'"

To stsAmarlse# Adams's reading of Amerloan history indicated that the nation was both a sucoess and a failure# The Constitution had accomplished what its framers had intended# for it had forged a 25 nation from thirteen colonies# In addition the more perfeot union thus formed had suooeeded even beyond just expectations in providing material well being for its oitisens and in elevating their intelli­ gence above the European average# But the American experiment had failed— as a kind of iron necessity determined that it must fail— to exempt the United States from the burden of oorruptlon and of terri­ fying centralised power that was the lot of every European state#

By the time he had oompleted his History# Adams had lost the con­ viction of his youth that the American nation was marked out for a peouliar destiny as the savior of mankind#

At the same time that Adams was suffering his disillusionment with domooratio government# he was feeling the attractions of the

European boo let y and oulture he had oome to know during his London years. He had refused to aoknowledge that the English dinner table represented "the perfection of hvmui sooiety"j in London he had missed the relaxed# informal gaiety of Amerloan sooial life. But in 201

Washington and at Harvard ha found a social desert. VTlthln two year*

aft«r his return to tha United States in 1868, Adams was eagerly

looking forward to returning to London where, in a sunnier raoation

from teaching at Harvard, he oould "experience three months of

civilisation again, and wash the dirty linen of ay mind.On his

wedding Journey he visited England, Holland, Germany, Switzerland,

Italy, and Egypt. In England the oouple were reoeived readily in

English soolety through the efforts of Charles Klines Oaskell and

other eld friends, but once again the futility of soloan soeial gaiety

and the brutality of English manners made their Impression on both

Henry end his wife.

Once re-established in Washington after his teaching at Harvard

from 1870 to 1877, Adams reigned over a table and a salon patterned

on European models. Supported by a oharming, sharp-witted wife, he

entertained diplomats, soientiats, and artists. Wit, learning, or

personal charm were the only tiokets of admission! John Hay, Theodore

Roosevelt, Ceoil Spring-Rioe, Clarence King, John LaFarge— -men of

aohlevemsnt all— shared his table and his talk. The Adams home beoame

an oasis in the social desert, but some blight fell upon it* the

oouple had no ohlldren, Mrs. Adams's father died, life held no com­

pelling interest, no goal. The reason is not olear, but on a Sunday morning in 1885, "Clover" Adams took an "overdose" of potassium oyanide,

and Washington was a sooial desert onoe again.

In a sense this disaster, approximately coinciding with his re­

consideration of Amerioa's role in world history, was a liberating 202

foroej both events sent Adams on near travels with hia mind cleared of

preoonceptlons* ao that 1 n the dooado of apparently aimless travel

that followed* he oould organize hie impresalone without reverting

to older patterna. Within a year after hi a wife'a death* Adams waa

off to Japan with John LaFarge on a trip whioh Initiated a aeriea of

wandering a that ultimately took Adama to every part of the world*

In 1891 he went to Hawaii* Samoa* Tahiti* and then through Auatralla

and India to Europe* From this trip oame aome of hia moat interoat-

ing letters* aa he beoaaie aoquainted in Tahiti with a primitive

civilization that still retained some of 1 ts pristine vigor in apite

OA of the inouraiona of European powers• ” Beginning in 1892 Adama went

almost every year to the Continent. In 1895* with Henry Cabot Lodge

and his wife* he made the memorable tour of Normandy whioh opened

hia eyea to the wonders of medieval arohiteoture• In 1901* a long

Journey to Germany* Austria* Poland* Russia* and Soandanavia gave

Adama a sight of the vast Russian empire whioh increasingly figured

in hia thought as a center of power in competition with a cluster of

states surrounding the Atlantio* After 1895* Paris became not so much a seoond home for Adams aa a retreat where he spent virtually

every summer until his death.

During these years* and partly as a result of his travels* Adama

formulated his theory of history* of whioh ms should especially note

that it was a direct reversal of the oenoept of Aaerioan destiny whioh he developed during the Civil Vfiar and whioh slipped away from him over the next twenty years* In brief* this theory asserted the 208

accelerating dissipation of sooial energies In a manner precisely

analogous to tha diffusion of physical foroas dasoribad in Lord

Kelvin's saoond law of thermodynamics. Sinoa work oan ba parfomad

only by physloal foroas in dis equilibrium, a oomplataly uniform dis-

parslon of energy through tha uniTsrsa would result in "heat-death,"

In tha elimination of any reservoirs of energy capable of supporting

life. Similarly, Adams argued, tha energies of mankind tended to

dissipate in tha modern multiplicity of Inman activities* Borrowing

Willard Gibbs's rule of phase, Adams was able to work out a time

schedule for tha exhaustion of social foroas and to predict the des­

truction of society early in the twentieth century*27

In two ways this "scientific" theory inverted Adams's views of

the 1860's* it was anti-progressive, in asserting the dispersion

rather than the concentration or inorease of human energy* and it

was deterministic in ploturing man as the viotim of natural forces

instead of the oontroller of them* Under suoh a dispensation the vision of the United States leading mankind onward toward freedom became a foolish illusion*

Applying this theory to international relations during the time

that his friend John Hay was Seorotary of State (1698 to 1905),

Adams described the development of two centers of power about the

tfeiited States and Russia. The task of Amerloan diplemaoy as Adams

saw it, was to draw England, Prance, and perhaps Germany into an

Atlantic combine, a vis nova to offset the vis lnertiae of the Russian 204

"giant dwarf."**® ’.That is implicit in tha Education**® runs also as an undercurrent through tha letters of tha timet tha whole prooass of ctoosing up a Idas 1 s an anoral ana whioh Adams is aagar to influenoe, not because, as in 1866, ha wantad to "Jam down hard on morality," or to serve demooraoy in its rola of guida to tha htman raoa, but maraly baoausa ha thought Hay's diplmsaoy might dalay indefinitely tha ultimately inevitable smash-up of civilisation.

Prom 1895 to within a few year* of his death in 1918, Maas spent every summer in Paris where ha established a base of operations for extending tha oathedral hunt ha had started in 1895.^® Looking back on his transfer to Paris, ha spoke of himself as "a seeker af tha Lord, praying for light, a worm crawling toward tha asphalt in a spring rain; a pilgrim, vary saasiok, looking for tha harbor of

Pari s.Tat ha did not really establish a home in Paris. Margaret

Chanler, who knew him wall in those years, reports that ha was shy and inaooassibla to foreigners, and that ha never made even tha ac­ quaintance of suoh scholars of tha Middle Ages Gaston Paris,

Gab hart, or Langlois, all of whom ha might easily have mat. Instead he o l w g to a small group of Americans, mostly woman whom ha adopted to as "nieces." Adams was not really a geographioal expatriate| that is, he did not seek France to escape tha barbarity of tha United

States, for he found Paris "a terror, a dream of chaos.. .rather worse than Hew York."** vihat ha sought there was historical perspec­ tive, a "sense of the past” in whioh he could disoover the raity, the intense oonoentration of hi man energy whioh could stand as the 20S moat striking oontrest to the dispersion of energy In the t wont loth

century.

This quest for the pest beoaae evident In the summer of 1895 when

Henry Cebot Lodge end Mrs. Lodge introduced him to the medieval oathe-

drels of Normandy* He had earlier oome to know the Middle Ages in

his first years as a teaoher of history at Harvard. Seeking to treoe

the origins of democratic institutions beck to the Teutonlo forests,

he had learned Old fiiglish, end searched hundreds o f old documents as

background for his essay, "Anglo-Saxon Courts of Lew." But in that

search he had seen the past as the starting point of the progressive development of Institutions toward their ollmax in the Amerloan

Constitution. Now he sought the past for its own sake, as an alter­ native to a present that afforded him no repose* His first introduc­ tion to Mont-Saint-Mlohel was a revelation} he soon learned to read the mind of the past not only in documents, but in stones as well

His earliest letters on the Norman cathedrals show this new literaoy almost as fully developed as It appeared later in Mont-Salnt-Mlohol and Chartres^** where by a blending of observation, inference, and metaphor he traced out the same habits of mind in the cathedrals that he found in the Chanson de Roland and in Thomas Aquinas*

alleged that the Chartres volume was intended to fix a point through whioh a ourve representing the degradation of human energies oould be traced to the point fixed by The Bduoatlon of Henry

Adams. He ohose the age of the oathedral builders, he said, because he oould net get enough material on primitive soolety or the society 206

of the seventh oentury B.C., ea he would have preferred. "I wanted

to show the intensity of the vital energy of a given time. and of

oourse that intensity had to be stated in its two highest terms—

religion and art....I am...not afraid to oarry out ay logic to the

rigorous end of regarding our present sooiety. its Ideals and pur­

poses. as dregs and fragments of some primitive essential lnatinot

now nearly lost."w

^et whatever its relationship to his other work. Mont - Bain t-

IHohel and Chartres stands by itself as a work of art. The book has

been attacked repeatedly, especially by Catholics, as flimsy his­

tory. as willful misinterpretation of the past, and indeed as bias- S7 phemous. 1R» oamot. of course, do any more than speoulate as to

what Admns intended by his work, but we oan observe that Chartres is

not actually a history and an interpretation of the past so much as

it la a recreating of the past, a redesigning of the past. It does

not so much explain how things came to be as they are. as produce

a world that never was.

One clue to this quality of the book occurs early in the letters

about his diso every of Normandy. Adama found a spiritual anoestry

in the region, and reoalled that indeed his physical anoestors had

oome from the area. "In the eleventh oentury. the majority of me *38 was Norman. Going back seems easy. This idea reours again and again in the letters of the time, appears in Chartres, and finds its most striking expression in the "Prayer to the Virgin of Chartres." perhaps the last thing Adams wrote, in which he pictures himself as 207

"An English scholar of a Norman name" mho in still earlier generations

had been present in the Paris Schools under Abailard and Saint *g Bernard, 1/That Adams tried to do in Mont-Salnt-Michel and Chartres mas to establish a continuity with a past that mould offer refuge

from the chaos of his own time. To do so he had to disoard finally

and thoroughly the idea of his youth that as an American he mas a new kind of man in a new world• Henry Adams found a home at last in a mansion of the mind, whioh he built from the stones of the past.

II

When Howells returned from Venice to the United States in 1865, a comfortable place had been well prepared for him by the small but growing reputation he had gained during his stay in Italy. After a brief term on the Nation under E. L. GodldLn, he mas released to take a hardly more remunerative, but certainly more flattering position as assistant editor to James T. Fields on the Atlantic Monthly.

Howells moved to Cambridge and mas admitted there to the intimate oircle of literary men assoolated with Harvard and with the Boston publishing housesi Lowell, Longfellow, Fields, Holmes, and Norton.

Shortly he mas attending the meekly meetings o f the Dante Club at which Longfellow read aloud portions of his revised translation of the Divine Comedy.** Howells mas oharmed and dassled by this assocla* tian, and never for a moment doubted where one might find the "per* feet ion of hvmuui society." His letters of the time reflect an almost 20B pathetic enamorment with tha pure, high-minded society of tha town.

"I should think there was lass intelleotual vulgarity here--the worst sort, by the wey— than anywhere else in tha world," ha wrote to Henry JamasHowells especially adored Jamas Russell Lowell, who had been, and continued to be, eepeoially enoouraging to the young writer. Tha letters of appreciation exchanged between then embarrass the reader with their excess of fondness.*®

Howells's contentment overflowed into Hew England and indeed onto the whole oountry. Suburban Sketohes, with its picture of a quiet, refined, comfortable life, is a product of this period, and until

1885 very little appeared in Howells's work to suggest any real inter­ ruption of the serenity that perTaded his world. Indeed, long after he had begun to take account of sooial problems in his novels,

Howells defended the spiritual and moral superiority of American life.

In 1868, for example, he wrote to Charles Eliot Norton of his enjoy­ ment of Lowrll's "On a Certain Condeaoensian in Foreigners," whioh he said destroyed "our foes" with admirable grace and ease.** And perhaps the only time Howells objected to anything Lowell wrote was when he questioned the epithet "the Land of Broken Promise" applied to the United States in Lowell's "Agassis."*** Lowell was referring to the scandals of the Grant administration, but Howells, while he thought the phrase was "priceless," hated to have Lownll say it, for he didn't believe that Lowell believed it.*®

Indeed, Howells was singularly quiet on all the corruption of the

Grant regime. That he was not entirely uninterested in politics is 209

47 shown by several Atlantic Monthly contribution*. In 1868 ho firmly

supported the Republican Party, and declared that Grant had demon­

strated his breadth of oharaoter and understanding; of problems in

suoh a say as to resolve the doubts of a year earlier. By 1872 he

had cooled toward Grant so that he supported him only as the "minor

evil" compared with Horace Greeley, whom he labelled "farceur." But

he took far less interest in politics than he had in his days as a

legislative correspondent, and before 1885 never gave any indication

that he had changed his attitude of 1866, that the Republican Party

had "the best in public life,--intellect, eduoation, public spirit,

private worth and weight. ■48

Howells's serene optimism about American life was confirmed by

his return to Europe in 1882 and 1883. He found on that trip that

he oould not write readily in an alien setting, and by that time he was so oonfirmed a writer that he oould not be happy doing anything else, nor oould he reoapture the spirit of 1862 when he had discovered how "doloe it is to far niente."*9 In England he was flattered by the sooial engagements that kept him from writing, and Switzerland, new territory on this trip, he also found delightful. But he seemed to enjoy Switzerland chiefly beoause of its resemblance to the United

States. He found himself glad to be beak in a republio where the manners mere simple and the people upright. The Swiss he found to 50 be "a kind of anterior New Englanders, with the very Yankee wit."

Italy was the greatest disappointment. The avowed objeot of hia 2X0 trip was to do a series of paper* on Italian cities, and he did finally oomplete the sketohea that became Tuscan Cities.*** But# while he found seme of the ancient towns picturesque in their antiq­ uity and decay, he no longer took the delight in their romantic charm that he had experienced as a youth. Constantly he reminded himself that he was fortunate not to live In Italy- Siena gave him a vivid conception of what a little Italian Republic had beer like, but, he 62 noted, he was glad not to be a "little Italian Republican-** At

Venice he was amused to see his oldest dau< hter, V/inifred, who had been b o m there in 1863, take the "deadly romantic view" of her native city; he himself found it more forlorn and shabby than ever, and believed that he had not seen the misery of it on his first trip*®

To Thomas Sergeant Perry he wrote that he found it hardly worth the trouble to put himself in rapport again with Italy, for "after all,

5 4 we have the country of the present and the future-

Howells's devotion to American life during these years after his return from his consulate in Venice is further illustrated in his famous exohange in 1880 with Henry James over the deficiencies of

Anerioa as a source of nurture for the artist- Hawthorne In his prefaoe to The Marble Faun had oomplained of the difficulty of writing a romance in Amerloa where there is "no shadow, no antiquity, nor anything but a oommonplaoe prosperity, in broad and simple daylight."®®

(Howells later noted these defioienoies as "whimsically lamented" by

Hawthorne)-5** And James in his Hawthorne®^ consented on Hawthorne*s oomplaint and added that he found the pioture of life in The Amerloan 211

Noteboole8 "characterized by &n extraordinary blankness— a ourlous 68 paleness of oolour and pauolty of detail*" James went on then to

list the "items of high civilization" which had no counterparts in

Amo rlca •

In his review of James's book, Howells retorted sharply in suoh

a way as to defend both Hawthorne and America* He no more found

Hawthorne "provincial" fbr being American than he would find any

Englishman so for being English* Howells further suggested that

James, in an exoess of eagerness not to show a prejudice in favor of

America, had undervalued some of Hawthorne's work* He went on to

object that Hawthorne recorded trivia in his notebooks, not because

there were no worthier objects in his world* but beoause, painter­

like, he loved details* Hawthorne, when he wrote so inferior a work

as The Marble Faun with its foreign soene, seemed to share with James

the misconception that "it needs a long history and a complex soelal machinery to set a writer in motion," Howells then paraphrased James's

list of "novellstic 'properties'" and insisted that when these "dreary and worn-out paraphernalia" were left out of the account "we have the whole of human life remaining, and a social structure representing the only fresh and novel opportunities left to fiotion, opportunities man- 60 ifold and inexhaustible*" The phrase, "the only fresh and novel opportunities left to fiotion," recalls Howells*s suggestion in his

1865 article on Stuttgart that only in America had the arts any real future

I believe that Howells does not do entire justioe to Henry James 212 here, end that subsequent oomnentatora hare perpetuated Howells'•

inacouracy. It Is quite true that James does emphasize the "light­ ness of the diet" to which Hawtlorne’s "large and happy appetite for

detail" was oondemned, and does suggest that a European life would 61 have provided him with a "denser, richer, warmer,••.spectaole•"

But after listing the aspects of that richer spectacle, Janes points out that "the Amerloan knows that a good deal remainsj what it is 62 that remains— that is his secret, his joke." Howells1 s objeotion appears to me a little too hastily offered, as though he were over­ sensitive on this point.

One further instance of Howells's defense of the spiritual and moral superiority of Amerloan life will suffioe to show that this attitude persisted long after his early travels in Europe, One chap­ ter of Critlclan and Fiction oontrasts English and American novels.

The chief difference, Howells finds, is that the English novelist relies on violent action, on "the passionate and the heroic," where­ as the American subordinates plot to subtle analysis of character.

This difference is accounted for by the oharaeters of the two nationalities, for "many refinements of thought and spirit which every American is sensible of in the fiction of this continent, are necessarily lost upon our good kin beyond seas, whose thumb-fingered apprehension requires something gross and palpable for its assuranoe of reality," Howells then goes on with as patriotic a passage as he ever wrote t 213

In fact, the American who ohooees to enjoy hie birth­ right to the full, live* in a world wholly different from the Englishmen'* end speaks (too often through hi* nose) another language! he breathes e rarefied end nimble air full of shining poe sib ill tie* and radiant promise* whioh the fog-and-aoot-clogged lung* of those less-favored islanders struggle in vain to fill themselves with. *

We should not suggest, however, that Howells was so blindly en­ thusiastic over America that he oould not see her faults. Even though he had passed over the corruptions of the Grant administration which alarmed both Adams and Twain, he gradually oame to a realisation of certain ills in Amerloan life. The same chapter in Criticism and

£ic ticc which we have Just oited also contains the often-quoted phrase about the "smiling aspects of life, which are the more American."

Professor Cady makes dear that this phrase has usually been lifted out of context to make Howells a namby-pamby optimist, whereas he was in faot nothing of the sort.**6 7/hat Howells is doing in the paragraph oontainlng the phrase is disparaging the use in novels with an

Amerloan setting of the glocoQr atmosphere of Crime and Punishment, since the "large, cheerful average of health and success and happy life" is peculiarly American. We have plenty of the universal tragedy of disease and death, of sin and suffering and shame arising from personal weakness, Howells says, but the conditions of our so­ ciety are brighter than those of the Old World. This passage was written in 1886, and presumably Justly refleoted Howells'* attitude at that time. When he pasted together exoerpts from the "Editor's

Study" to form Critic!me and Fiotion in 1891, he added, after the des­ cription of Just soolal conditions in Anerioa, "though all this is 214

«66 changing for the worse.

need not review in detail here the development of Howells** social consciousness nor the influences that shaped It so mu oh as note 67 how it is related to our theme* ' Gradually there evolved from his oonoem with the personal moral problem a perception that the social environment is a strong shaping force in human lives. In A Mo d e m

Instanoe (1862) Howells dealt with divorce, a problem that has social as well as Individual bearings. ’Whether Bartley Hubbard is innately bad, or morally responsible for his failures, or the victim of social circumstances is never entirely clear. In The Rise of Silas Lepham

(1885), while the concern with personal morality transoends that with environmental influences, Howells clearly anticipates his later interest in the influence of sooiety on individual behavior, a theme which ooznes to full development in The Quality of Mercy (1892).

The Minister1* Charge (1887) introduces two elements which were later to blend into Howells* s peculiar brand of secular Christian demooratio sooialismi the dootrine of "oomplioity" and a picture of the blight­ ing effect on oharacter of material and intelleetual poverty.

A Haaard of Hew fortunes (1889) shows a direct ooneern with economic problems as Howells shows the responses of a variety of people to a

New York traction strike. The figure who I s a mask forHowells him­ self in a nimber of novels, Basil Uaroh, here responds to the strike with a combination of good sense and good will. Another sympathe­ tically portreyed oharacter is Lindau, the German socialist whose

Toletoi-like idealism is shown to be an Ineffective weapon against 215

economic power supported by police violence. Lindau is spiritually

related to David Hughes In The World of Chance, a former Brook Farm

member whoae Ideals are like Lindau*e attractive but Inadequate.

Howells's own proposals for settling the problems of economic

slavery are embodied In A Traveler from Altrurla (1 8 9 4 ), I h E W g k Sfcg

Ere of the Heedle (1 9 0 7 ), and e number of magaslne articles published

from 1895 to the end of his life.

The Importance of this body of social criticism for our thesis

is not to demonstrate that Howells left the idea that American life

Is better than European life. Indeed, we have attempted to show that

he long maintained the superiority of American life. But his concern

was over the fact that America was drifting away from the ideal that

he had developed as a boy In an Ohio village, and had articulated as a

result of his residence in Europe. Professor Taylor has shown that

the utopia pictured In A traveler from Altrurla and In Through the Eve

of the Eeodle Is essentially like the ante-bellum village life of

Jefferson, Ohio* equalltartan both In social behavior and in economic

status, simple In activities, moral In personal behavior, and free

from obtrusive restraints. It tallies, further, almost exactly with

the picture of American life which Is Inherent in the writing that arose out of Howells*s early European travel.

After 1 8 9 5» with the exception of occasional magaslne articles and the 1907 publication of Through the Ere of the Heedle. Howells

turned away from social and economic criticism. Professor Thylor

suggests that this change was due to two factors i Howells had said 216

substantially all that ha had to say on economic and social problems*

and his energies mere diverted to the criticism of imperialism*

Howell s's later travel writing differs strikingly from the boolcs

based on the Italian residence of the 1860's* In 1897 the Howellses

made a tour of Germsmy in celebration of their twenty-fifth wedding

anniversary. Their Silver Wedding Journey (1899) is a travel book

modeled on Their Wjsddlng Journey* In both books Basil and Isabel

Uaroh appear as masks for Howells and his wife. Since the book is

frankly an account of tourist life* it is far more concerned with

Amerloan tourists than with Germans* and contains a great deal of

description of the visible surfaoe of Geraan oities* with less his­

tory and sociological criticism than had characterized Venetian Life*

Italian Journeys* or Tuscan Cities* The book has a somewhat larger

oast of characters than Their Wedding Journey* for the Marches* now

long married and in late middle age* cannot serve as the primary

center of romantic interest* But they do aot as match-makers among

the fellow tourists stioee paths they cross and recross in Europe*

What chiefly interests us here is the shift In attitude from

that of the earlier work. Howells spoke of writing with a "changed

point of view and the evening light on everything#*®0 Their

Silver Wedding Journey shows the effect of this attitude* March is now experienced and judicious# so that with deft irony he can satirise

the nafve patriotism of Isabel# the Indignation of young Ambrose

Adding over social injustices# the obnoxious bragging of a self-made

Amerloan business man# and the denigration of America by a disgruntled 217

patrician. At the tamo time Howells Is able to stand aside from

March oooaslonally and ridicule his excessive oonoern for oomfort,

or his leaping at generalizations about the Germans on the basis of

little evidence*

At the same time, Howells shows some biases of his own* He re­

affirms the ploture he gave in 1865 of the Gemmns as simple-minded, 69 kindly, honest, gross, and strenuous* He finds frequent oooasion

to objeot to the twin evils of monarchy and militarism* While he

has Basil sometimes warn Isabel against being a "Jingo," and some­

times recall the inequities of American life, the final impression

is that life in Amerioa is freer, pleasanter, and more rewarding than

in the old cities of Europe*

The last travel books, written after 1900, share a bland qual- 70 ity that now renders them much less readable than the earlier work*

Their content is that of the familiar travel booki descriptions of

famous sights varied by trivial incidents and Impressions whioh oon- vey a sense of the author's personality* Their style is distin­

guished by the flexible, clever prose, occasionally of almost Jasieslan

complexity, whioh Howells had long been master of*

While he was still soornful in these books of vestiges of feudal­

ism, he was far: more ready than he had been forty years earlier to

reoognize the social rationale of old customs that seemed strange to the American traveler* This broadening of his view, I believe,

followed from his sooial oritioism of Amerloan life, and in turn made 218

him more aoutely aware of Anoricsn deficiencies* In "Glimpses of

Aiglish Character,” a sketch which oenoludes Seren English Cities

(1909), for example* he reoorded instances of the sooial inequality

whioh remained a prominent feature of English life* But he noted

that its adverse effects were no worse than those of economic in-

equality in Anerioa. 72 And he rejected as an error the idea that

the Englishman "is a sort of American* tardily arriving at our kind

of consciousness* with the disadvantages of an alien environment* 73 after apparently hopeless arrest in unfriendly conditions.” He

was more willing than he had been in 1864 to understand the oiroum-

st&noes that gave rise to national peculiarities*

In this last travel writing Howells placed far more stress on the cultural ties of Anerlca with the Old 'florid and especially

England* than he had earlier* In addition* he eagerly sought out

sites associated with Amerloan origins in England* and spoke oooa-

sionally of the ties of blood and tradition that united the Anglo-

3axon race* 73 Howells v s continued stress on racial unity* however* did not lead him to assert Anglo-Saxon supremacy* or to condone imperialism* either European or Amerloan*

Howells was* indeed* an outspoken anti-imperialist*7* Of the

Spanish-Amerlcsn Yfor* he wrotet "What started out as a war for humanity has beoome a war for coaling stations." Both the Open Door policy in China and the British role in the Boer War he condemned unequlvooally* writing in 1902 on "Raoe-Patrlotism” he deolared the dream of Anglo-Saxon d

ation," and then went on to list the cultural and humanitarian

ao hie ▼aments of other nations,?®

It m s Imperialism, in fact, which finally climaxed Howells's

distrust of American superiority, a distrust which had been growing

slnoe 1885. Writing o f William James Stillman's Autobiography of a

Journalist, Howolls titled his review "An Earlier American," for he 76 found Stillman a voice from an America that had vanished, "Once,"

Howells pointed out,

in our national oonsoiousness, at least,...we stood for something different from anything a people had stood for before. Call it universal liberty or instinctive justice, or even by the tedious name of humanity, it was something novel and brave and generous, and it dif­ ferenced us from all the monarchies limited and unlim­ ited, the conquerors, the oppressors,??

But imperialism had ended all that, Howells believed, for

the events that have followed ^ h e Spanish war^ seem to Imply the close of the peculiar mission of America to manic Ind. We shall probably be rioher and we shall be stronger even than we are now^ but the American shall hardly again be the son /sio/ of the morning, toward which the struggling peoples turned their eyes with the hope at least of sympathy,?**

For Howells, it was the end of an era.

III

Attempting to trace out any consistent pattern of thought in Mark

Twain is a maddening process, for he was in no important sense really a thinker. His success as an author led him to be 11 eve--and apparently led many o f his contangoraries to believe— that his thoughts on vir­ 220 tually any subject* political* social* or philosophical* were worth uttering and recording, Tet a reader with the advantage of over half a century's backward view can only feel surprise that Twain should ever have been considered a serious thinker. The ideas in tha supposedly "philosophical" pieoes* say "What Is Man," or The Mysterious

Stranger for exstaple* are simplified versions of ideas that had been ourrent for at least several decades* and that in any oase probably were not as shockingly unorthodox as Twain seemed to think them.

This is not to say that Twain had not a siieable literary talent! it is only to say* as Gladys Bellamy puts it* that the 79 literary nan is not a pamphleteer. So long as Mark Twain was willing to let his matchless set of sense organs report the world that he oould see* hear, smell* and feel, and so long as he was willing to let only his ingrained hum&nitarianism provide the editing of that report* his work was superb. Huckleberry Finn stands clearly aa

Twain's masterpiece and one unohallengeably successful work of art primarily because he did not try to play the role of thinker in that work. In Huck Finn* and in all his other most successful work*

Twain's function is that of a magnifioont sensuous sponge soaking up impressions and squeesing them out again in an overwhelming flood of recollection.

The great difficulty when Twain plays thinker is that his

"thought" is dominated and direoted by envotion--emotion intense and unqualified* for he loves strong emotion for its own sake, VVhen he is angry* he stust be angry without limit* and in superlative terms. 221

Hia condemnations are wholesale and final* Similarly* the pessimism

of his late years has about It a theatrioal quality whioh suggests

that he enjoyed his melancholy so long as there was plenty of it*

It is this emotionalism offered as a substitute for thought whioh

largely perrades Twain's writing on Europe throughout his life*

In spite of oooasional reversions to the bitterness of the Civil Y/ar

period* Howells and Adams both achieved some semblance of Judicial

oalm in their comments on Europe* but Twain was always ready to

retort in kind or worse to any European critic of Amerloa* general­

ising freely in disregard of the facts of American experience whioh

few men knew better than he did*

That Twain should have known better is suggested by his purely

American work of the same time* for in that work* drawing on his

treasure of experience and impression* he was able to pour out an

uncensored re-creation of life as he had known it in Amerloa* Thus

Roughing It (1872)* Tom Sawyer (1876)* Life on the Mississippi

(1883)* Huckleberry Finn (1884)* and saae half-dosen other sketohes*

along with passages from the Autobiography (published 1924* but

written and dictated over many years)— all essentially directly

rwoorded experiences* and constituting what is oertainly the best

and probably the most enduring part of his work— give a pioture of

American life whioh oarries with it an instant conviction of truth

and Justioe*

Let Huckleberry Finn represent the entire body of autobiographical work* Vftxat pioture of Amerloan life emerges from itT Mote first of 222

all that tha protagonist is a rustic innocent, blood brother to Sut

Lovingood and to Twain's own early unfrightened squatter, who with

that other primitive, Bigger Jim, finds an idyll of brotherhood

and contentment as he drifts down the oentral artery of the Amerloan

continent• But the peaoe of the broad river is less than half the

story, for along the banks are scattered the shabby, sleepy towns

that represent the civilisation from which the rafting companions

are fleeing. And in those towns are the people— Americans if you willi but that doesn't matter so long as they are human beings — whose cruelty and violence repeatedly force Huck to light out for

the river on the dead run. The fact that Huok's flight is supposed

to have happened forty years ago doesn't really matter! the mean­

ness of spirit and the cruelty pictured in the novel are Just as enduring human traits as the gentleness and noble unselfishness of

Jim and Huok! they will not pass with the passing of the frontier.

This is American life, Just as the lawlessness of Boughing It and the greedy immorality of The Gilded Age are Amerloan life, or at least they are all human life, American or otherwise, and they sug­ gest that Twain should have known better than to lambast fiigland and Impute all -the woes of humankind to her alone. Yet that is essentially what he does when he tries to think about America and

Bur ope, and gives us a freshet of emotion instead of thought.

We have already noted Twain's unwillingness— or inability— to satirise the Bnglish after his first trip to England in 1872. He had been charmed by his reoeption, and his critical faculties were para- 228 lyzed* But in tha 1860's ha underwent a reaotion in sympathies which 80 produoad a group of works with an anti-British undartona. Tha ohanga was caused not by a judicious appraisal of Baglish civilisa­ tion, but by an anger that burnad all tha plaasant faaling ha had ever had toward tha Aaglish out of him. for more than a decade*

Tha shift is rathar abrupt* In tha Notebook an antry for 1877 oosnends tha English in tha lavish, unqualified way that is typioal of Twain's expression of his prejudices* "Th* bast English charac­ teristic is its plucky and persistant and individual standing up for its rights* No other people approach England in this admirable, this 81 manliest of all traits*" Within two years, tha same extravagance is evident in a notebook antry of contrary tendenoyi "The English ought not to patronise tha Zulus, tha Livingstone River Cannibals, and say piously* 'We are batter than thou,* for it is vary plain that 82 they have bean batter for no store than a hundred years*" And not long after. Twain predicts that tha "snobbish and pretentious"

Bog 11 sh newspapers will suooeed within a generation in completely separating the two nations, whioh are now at their friendliest*

What usually moved Mark Twain to such utterances was foreign oritioism, either real or apparent* Undoubtedly Matthew Arnold's criticism of Amerloan culture on his leoture tour in 1868 and 1884 offended Twain's patriotism, fbr several rathar elaborate replies to

Arnold remain Twain's unpublished papers, and in his speeoh

"On Foreign Critios” his references to Sir Lepel Griffin also are Ot directed at Arnold, whom Griffin had quoted*09 A nisaber of notebook 224 entries attest his an^ar at the British during the writing of 84 A Connectlout Yankee* The Prlnoe and the Pauper# A Conneotlcut

Yankee, and The Anerloan Claimant all bear the marks of this anger, although apparently none of them was designed initially as an attaok on the British or was exclusively such an attack.

The publication of Paul Bourget's Outre-Mer. notes aur l*Am$rlque in 1894 touohed off an ill-tempered blast at Bourget, foreign oritlcs, ss and the French. In the prooess of berating Bourget for daring to report his observations of America, Twain makes several pointed obser­ vations on travel reporting: 11A foreigner can photograph the exter­ iors of a nation, but I think that that Is as far as he can get.

I think no foreigner can report its interior--its soul, its life, its 86 speeoh, its thought." Twain continues by insisting that only native novelists— a rare species at best--can by unoonsclous absorption develop a genuine sense of some single aspect of the complex life of a nation and in a series of detailed and limited novels, build up a composite pioture that will do Justice to the United States. Bourget seeks the "national soul"j Twain retorts that the re is no single human characteristic that can safely be labelled Aaerican, and that the people in any nation are so various as to defy generalisation.

Bourget errs further. Twain finds, in seeking the national oharaoter at Newport, and in making much of trifles.

Not only are these objectionable qualities present in Twain*s own travel writing, as indeed they are in virtually all travel writing, but thsy appear in the very essay on Bourget. Wien he leaves hia 225 consideration of Bourget's method end turn* to refutation of his ideas*

Twain falls into the same fallacies he has oharged to Bourget, and generalises freely about national chsuracter, morality, and customs.

Twain was able, under the drive of his anger, to see the fallacies in foreign rtimpr ess ions" sfaen it suited his purpose to do so.

What are the oharges Twain brings against Europe in this work of the eighties and nineties? Essentially they are a continuation— hardly a development— of the attitudes we found in the early travel writing of Adams and Howells, as well as Twain: America has given to the world the great blessings of material progress; America has pointed the way toward freedom; only under America's equal!tarian in­ stitutions can men ever reaoh full stature; American charaoter is elevated above European in morality, generosity, and delioaoy of feeling.

Mark Twain was especially fond of equating material progress with civilisation and claiming all of nineteenth-century science and invention for the United States. This theme appeared at least as early as The Innooents Abroad and oontinued as long as he lived.

A Connecticut Yankee is of oourse the great yelp of triumph of the ingenious nineteenth-oentury mechanio, but it is more than that.

It has been usual to attribute a gross materialism to Twain, to show a connection between his perennial hope for the big bonanza and his adoration of the mechanical triumphs of the nineteenth century. This

Is all true; he did see the Paige typesetter as a fortune maker, end 226

he imli fascinated by gadgets, especially when they showed ingenuity 87 in their construction. In his first essay on Paul Bourget. Twain boasted of the superiority of American railroading, steamboating. and telegraphy. But the persistent and oharaoteristic note in

Twain's commonts on modern inventions is that they are blessings to mankind; they release him from crushing labor, they give him food, elothing, and literature in quantity; they lift up his spirit and let him grow to the full stature of a man. "The thousand willing and handy servants of steam and electricity." he wrote in 1889. speaking of such speotaoular inventions as the telephone, the type- 88 writer, and the steamboat.

Freedom and democracy, no less than mechanical servants, are the gifts of America to mankind. Throughout A Connecticut Yankee the Boss passes indignant oonments on the immoral absurdity of monarchy and aristooraoy. His point of view is that of an American born In the free atmosphere of the nineteenth century. And in a letter of the time. Twain hailed the fall of the Brasilian monarchy! "Another throne has gone down, and I swim in oceans of satisfaction. I wish 1 might live fifty years longer; I believe I should see the thrones of Europe selling at auction for old iron.

I believe I should really see the end of what is surely the grotes- 89 quest of all the swindles ever invented by man— monarchy." Credit for this movement toward freedom was due to American leadership.

Twain claimed in his 1889 speeoh "On Foreign Critics■" The partial civilisations of Europe sprang from the seed planted by the American ?27

Revolution, "when we hoisted the banner of revolution and raised the 90 first genuine shout for human liberty that had ever been heard.”

Self-realisation and growth to full manhood are the benefits of

freedomt This theme runs all through A Connecticut Yankee. Hank*a

Man-factory carries on the most important industry of the new era.

The people of Arthur's Britain are good raw material for a nation, but

the productive part of the population has been beaten down by a set of

idle, rapacious ignoramuses sarcastically known as nobility. The

first requisite for rebirth of the people is irreverenoe toward the monarchy and nobility, so that real loyalty to the nation— to the great mass of oonron people--may come into play. The same theme of irrev­

erence appears in The American Claimant, where Lord Berkeley attends a Mechanics' Club debate. The incident has relatively little bear­ ing on the plot of the novel} it is interpolated to give Twain one more opportunity to reply to Matthew Arnold. The speaker, whose

▼lews Twain dearly approves, undertakes to refute a statement by

Arnold that American newspapers are the best means of effacing the discipline of respecti

The chief funotion of an English journal is that... it must keep the public eye fixed admiringly upon the glories of England, a processional splendor stretohlng its receding line down the hazy vistas of time, with the mellowed lights of a thousand years glinting from its bannersj It must keep it diligently diverted from the faot that all these glories were for the enrich­ ment and aggrandisement of the petted and privileged few, at cost of the blood and swsat and poverty of the unoonsidered masses who aohieved them, but Blight not enter in and partake of them.

American journalism Is distinguished from all others in the world by 228 its "frank and cheerful Irreverence" toward "any fraud or shame or infamy."***

In A Connecticut Yankee Hank's competitive examination scheme fails, for the noble examining board values birth above oompetenoy.

In a direct comment on the oaste system, the Boss underscores this point i

You see, in a country where they have ranks and oastes, a man isn't ever a man, he i s only part of a man, he can't ever get his m i l growth....This was to remain so, as long as England should exist in the earth. With the spirit of prophecy upon me, I oould look into the future and see her ereot statues and monuments to her unspeak­ able Georges and other royal and nobles clotheshorses, and leave in honored the creators of this world— after God— Gutenberg, Watt, Arkwright, Whitney, Uorse, Stephenson, Bell.92

In The Innooonts Abroad Twain had deplored the state of morals he found in Europej he returned to the attack through the eighties and nineties. The "unoonsoiously indelioate" conversation of Arthur's court reminded the Yankee that the first specimens of the genuine lady and gentlemen had not appeared in Europe until the nineteenth oenturyj presumably the types had appeared earlier in Amerioa.

In his rebuke to Bourget, Twain took much the same position on the virtue of Amerloan married women that Howells had taken in

Venetian Life. Bourget had observed that in America men do not attempt to seduoe young married women, and attempted to discover the reason fbr this peculiarity. According to Twain, Bourget offered two explanations! Young women are protected in Amerioa by a pru- denoe oreated by an obsolete Puritan law providing the death penalty 229

for adultery* and they are proteoted by laws making divorce easy.

Twain answered that neither explanation held water, and that

M. Bourget had overlooked the evident fact that "they were clean In 93 their morals* they were pure." Twain concluded his blast at

Bourget with an anecdote which he apparently considered a stunning

argument. He epitomised French snobbishness by quoting Napoleon

as saying that an Amerloan could always pass the time by trying to

find out who his grandfather was. Twain replied that the Frenchman had no oooasion for boredom either* for he could always entertain himself by trying to find out who hia father was. When Max O'Rell

complained that Twain had called the French a nation of bastards*

the Amerloan replied that he had done no sueh thing* and that the magaslne would not have permitted him to use so gross a word I The exohange with Bourget was of course an ill-natured wrangle* but

Twain's position is consonant with other American views on European morality.

What this survey suggests* 1 think* is that the usual sensitivity of Americans to foreign oriticlsm was highly developed in Twain be­ cause of the predominantly emotional cast of his mind. He was quick to anger* and violent in passion. Henoe his irrational hatred of

England and of Europe generally* onoe it was aroused* was inbnie and persistent. Long after Howells and Adams had subsided to a more judicious state of mind* Twain was giving way to bursts of unreasoned

anger* 250

By the time of his long residence in Europe during most of the decade from 1891 to 1900, Twain sms somewhat subdued, although he had not altered his views on Europe. A set of letters to New York newspapers from the Continent in 1891 and 1892 represents the calmest--and least interesting— travel writing that Twain did.

Sometimes he finds occasion to recall some of the old prejudices against Europe, but they are incidental. He praises Switserland's six oenturies of liberty and finds the air healing and refreshing QA after the political atmosphere of neighboring monarchies.^ His com­ ments on lfegner recall the remarks on the old masters in The Innocents

Abroad almost thirty years earlier. He makes fun of British idolatry 96 of royalty. And in Bohemia an old sore spot is irritated again as he sees a woman and a dog hitohed together to a cart; in such a 96 oountry one can*t expect much delicacy of feeling. But on the whole the tone i s relaxed, appreciative of minor oomforts and evidences of sanity, and ecstatic over natural beauties.

Hark Twain's round-the-world leoture tour in 1895 and 1896 neoessarlly took him to English-speaking countries. In Fbl lowing the

Equator (1897) he records his impressions of what was essentially a tour of the British Itapire. Once again the book is a pleasant mix­ ture of eloquent description, whimsical airing of prejudices, and manufactured nonsense* The speotaoular history of Australia with its tales of mining strikes, ranching under diffioultles, the rapid growth of a mixed population, and legends of fortunes quiokly won and lost appeals to Twain, and he reoords it with something of the 251 enthusiasm he had poured into Roughing It* India he dealt with as a land of violent contrasts, which evoked some of his most eloquent prose. In South Africa he delighted in traolng the exciting details of Jsmeson's recent raid on Johannesburg, bringing his account up to date as he wrote it.

But one theme of recurrent interest brought Twain's persistent humanltarlanism into play* and recalled his acquaintance with both

American Indians and Sandwich Islanders in the I8601 s. As he toured the British colonies, he saw subject peoples suffering under alien rule.

Twain’s oomments on imperialism and the English in Following the

Equator are ourlously mixed. He sympathises with the plundered natives of the South Sea Islands, and doubts the value of the civil­ isation that has been bestowed on them. The healthy, carefree Kanaka is hauled o ff to Queensland where he languishes in an unwholesome olimate and finds civilisation in the form of a Waterbury watch and cheap perfume. In a bitterly Ironic ohapter entitled "Arsenic

Pudding for Savages," Twain pours out soorn on the white man's exter­ mination of any native population that stands in his way. The spirit of an Australian squatter who poisoned natives of Queensland was right, he says, but the method was wrong— it attracted too much attention end smlrohed the good name of western civilisation, where­ as an elder and harsher method would have been as effeotive without 07 suoh showy novelty.As he moves on to New Zealand, India, and

South Africa, the same theaie recurs. At Benares the fields full of 252 men and boy* remind him that in Bavaria, Austria, and Franoe he had

seen women doing the heaviest toil, and ironically adds that the blessings o f Buropean civilisation will come to India yet.

Twain's sympathy for the victims of British imperialism seems to have two bases. He is indignant over the robbery of lands and oppression of populations in much the same way that he beeame indignant over the oaste system and its outcome in frustrated human lives in A Connecticut Yankee. In addition, he acquired a luke-warm admiration for the noble savage. It is true that in Roughing It he had given an unfavorable account of the American Indian and that he never forgot to howl over Cooper's redskins, but in the Sandwich

Islands he had found the freedom and easy grace of the Kanakas admirable, even If he did not approve the brutality of their wars or the liberality of their morals. In Australia and New Zealand he found the natives fascinating in their odd mixture of intelligence and superstition, and everywhere he stopped, he regretted the loss of the old idleness, freedom, and effeotlve adaptation of native life to local oonditlon*.

Yet much as he regretted the passing of natives under the dominion of their oonquerors, and soornful though he was of British cruelty and hypocritical talk about Christianity and the blessings of civilisation. Twain seemed to expect eventual world-wide domina­ tion by the Anglo-Saxon oountries and to view the prospect with some satisfaction. In Australia and India he applauded the dignified and moderate treatment by the newspapers of rtsaors of war between England 255

and the United States, for he minted no interference with Anglo-

American friendshipi

The outlook is that the English-speaking race will dominate the earth a hundred years from now, if its sections do not get to fighting eaoh other. It would be a pity to spoil that prospect by baffling and re­ tarding wars when arbitration would settle their dif­ ferences much better and also so much more definitely*®®

The process seemed inevitable; at any rate it was proceeding with

irresistible force. "It seems plain that all savage and semi- 99 civilized countries are going to be grabbed."

Ha noted, too, that with all its cruelties, fiigland had indeed

brought peace, health, and order to many of the countries it ruled.

By the time he reaohed Madagascar, he had decided that the more

rapidly the prooess of conquest was consummated, the better it would

be for the subject peoples. This conclusion did not prevent his

aocusing England, France, Spain, and Russia of outrageous robbery

in seising unguarded territories. All the lands of all the govern­

ments on earth— including America— have been stolen, usually not

onoe bub repeatedly. In a sense this ancient precedent justifies

the continuation of the prooess, or at least makes it a matter of no

surprise. Without irony, he oonoludedt The savage lands of the world are to pass to alien possession, their peoples to the mercies

of alien rulers. Let us hope and believe that they will all benefit

by the ohange.*^®^ Nineteenth-century material progress, operating

as a moral and humanising influence, had taken the ourse off imperi­

alist land-grabbing. HViat Twain was really objecting to in his 254 earlier picture of the exploited Kanaka was the fraud that was practiced upon him. So long as "civilization'' was only a set of cuffs* a few cheap shirts* and a jug of whiskey* European culture ^as as much a cheat as the Royal Nonesuch or the miracles of Uerlin*

Then civilization became sohools* railroads* telegraphy* and the electric light* it became a blessing indeed*

Toward the end of the decade* Twain's bitterness toward the

British was considerably mellowed* enough so that he could write a paper fbr Queen Victoria's Jubilee in 1897 praising the British lavishly for material and moral progress, for spreading liberty among the English* and ibr uniting in her empire the varied millions of all raoes. Twain introduces figures to show the incredible growth of the Bapiro— seventy Englands have been added in sixty years— and apparently he admires the success of so enormous an enterprise.

But one aspeot of Imperialism* Twain was not prepared for* up to the end of his world tour* all the land-grabbing had been done by

European powers* It was pleasant to contemplate ultimate Anglo-

Saxon hegemony so long as England did the conquering* When America got into the Spanish-American War, that was another matter. The passages we have cited— and many others— make dear that Twain fully reoognized the horrors and the injustice of imperialist oonquest* henoe his first reaotion to the Spanish War was to deny that it had anything in ooasnon with imperialism. It was* in faot* a crusade against the Spanish oppressor* or* as Howells put it* a war for humanity* In a characteristically violent blast written during hia 236

real denee In Vienna, Twain reprimanded an American expatriate who had 102 expressed shame over the American venture in Cuba in 1898. fie call­

ing every reprehensible aot of the major European nations from 1492

on. Twain proclaimed that no American had any need to blush before

the virtue of Europe. He really offered no defense of American be­ havior) he merely reminded his reader of the relative blaaelessness

of Amerloan behavior through history alongside Burops an treachery#

and assumed that the record would speak with sufficient eloquenoe.

It is time that Twain had little acoess in Vienna to unbiased news# but his ignorance did not deter him from speaking out on the issue.

In retrospect the "Word of Encouragement" looks like an ill-considered bit o f jingoism) the skeptical views of Amerioan polioy which Twain

thinks unworthy of an American sound all too much like his own ironic

exposure of European pretenses. But what the piece also suggests is that isrtil the Spanlsh-Amerioan Vfar# Twain, in spite of all his knowledge of the mottled character of human life in America and everywhere else, had been able to hold his own country apart, to insist on America's hvsaane and unselfish role in world affairs.

Whatever he had written on human life apart from considerations of national virtue had been a brilliantly comprehensive report of the mingled dark and light of human oharaoter. But not until after 1900 did he even suggest in discussion of Amerioa and Europe that the

United States was no better than the oountries of the old world.

When the reaction came, it oame with the explosive force we might expect.*0* "To the Person Sitting in Darkness" is but one of 236 a number of antl-imperiallst pieces that Twain did. Opening with a set of newspaper clippings stressing crime and depravity In New

York, he oontlnues with an outory against the collection of Indemnities by American missionaries for damage done by the Chinese Boxers. Twain then goes on to link together the British adventure In South Afrioa, the German incursions in China, and the Russian moves against Japan.

These latter affairs showed the European powers playing the Game injudiciously. The United States, in Cuba, had been winning with the

Amerloan game. The Master of the Game "was following our great traditions in a way which made us very proud of him, and proud of the deep dissatisfaction whloh his play was provoking in continental

Europe." But the temptation In the Philippines was too strongj the United States played the European game in private, and played the

Amerloan game in public-used the established traditions of Amerioa and her tremendous prestige to oonoeal a treacherous oonquest of the 104 Pi 11 pi no s .

This was Twain1 a final position on Europe and Amerloai that for over a century the United States had stood on a pinnacle above

European backwardness and treaohery, as a beaeon lighting the way to liberty and progress, but that in the last decade Amerioa had im­ ported European notions of Imperialism and patriotism, to her per­ manent detriment, A. paragraph of "miscellany'1 dictated In 1906 in his autobiographical reminisoenoss typifies the bitter mixture that

Twain brewed in old ages 237

Something more then a oentury ago we gave Europe the first notions of liberty it had ever had, and thereby largely and happily helped to bring on the French Revo­ lution. ...We have taught Europe many lessons sinoe.... But for us the European Food Trust might never have acquired the art of poisoning the world for oash* but for us her Insurance Trust might never have found out the best way to work the widow and orphan for profit... • Steadily...we are Americanising Europe and all in good time we shall get the Job perfected.*06

A fbw months earlier, the Russian revolutionist, Nicholas

Tohaykoffsky, had appealed to Twain for help in arousing Amerloan sympathy. Twain1 s reply marked the end of his American dreamt "I told him what I believed to be truet that our Christianity which we have always been so proud of— not to say so vain of--is now nothing but a shell, a s ham, a hypocrisy* that we have lost our anoient sympathy X06 with oppressed peoples struggling fbr life and liberty.**

Aoross the years there may have loomed the figure of Louis

Kossuth whom Sam Clemens had seen in Hannibal over half a oentury earlier. That village in the heart of a simpler America had we loomed the representative *bf king-ridden, down-trodden, bleeding 107 Hungary"* but that Amerioa was gone forever. NOTES

Chapter I

1. Michael Kraus, The Atlantic Civilization* Eighteenth-Century Origins (Ithaca, New York, 1949j, gives abundant documentation of the intense oultural exchange between the old world and the new throughout the oentury, shovdng that whatever Americans may have thought their relationship to Europe to be, there were innumerable channels transmitting European culture to its new setting*

2. The Sketchbook of Geoffrey Crayon, ient. ^New York, 1864), p. 17. First edition, 1819*

3* Orie >Y. Long, Literary Pioneers» Early American Explorers of European Culture (Cambridge, Mass., 1955). recounts the experi- enoes in Europe of a number of New England students from 1815 to 1835, including Longfellow, George Ticlcnor, Edward Everett, George Bancroft, and John Lothrop Motley*

4. Carl Van Doren, "Bayard Taylor," Dictionary of American Biography (New York, 1936)*

5. Views Afoot (New York, 1855), p. 18. First edition, 1J46*

6* I have been able to discover no better account of travel writing than V.'illard Thorp, "Pilgrim’s Return," Literary History of the United States, ed* Robert E. Splller and"othe rs (New York, 5*948), II, 827-842. Regina Roth, "Survey of Travel Literature in the New York Tribune, July 30, 1850-January 1, 1857" (Unpublished paper, Ohio State University, 1947) shows that in the six and one-half-year period, the Tribune carried travel material from ninety-five contributors, inoluding extensive work by Horace Greeley, Bayard Taylor, George William Curtis, and Charles Loring Brace. Much of this material, however, concerned the Jtaerioan West* Christof 7«egelin, "The Concept of Europe in American Fiction from Irving to Hawthorne" (Unpublished disserta­ tion, Johns Hopkins, 1947) takes the number of editions of travel books to indicate that the work of the "sentimental pilgrims" was far more popular than that of writers critical of European society.

7. William Cullen Bryant, Letters of a Traveller, or. Notes of Things Seen in Europe and’ America ifrew’ York, 1855;, p. 23*

8. Gleanings in Europe, ed* Robert E. Splller, 2 vols. (New York, 1930), II, 594* 238 - 239

Notes, Chapter I, continuedi

9. (Boston, 1904), pp. 275-27 6.

10, Mark Van Doren, Nathaniel Hawthorne (New York, 1949), pp, 237-243,

CHAPTER II

1. James Truslow Adams, The Adams Family (Boston, 1930), passim,

2. Henry Adams, The Education of Henry Adams (Boston, 1918) pp. 9-10. Hereafter cited as Education.

3. Ibid., pp. 28-33,

4. Ibid., pp. 18-19.

5. Ibid., p. 36.

6. Ibid., p. 35.

7. Ibid., p. 99.

8. Ernest Samuels, The Young Henry Adams (Cambridge, Mass., 1948), p ■ 30 .

9. Education, p. 70.

10. George McKee KLsey, "The First Education of Henry Adams," New England Quarterly, XIV (Dec., 1941), 683-684,

11. Education, p. 70.

12. Worthington C. Ford, Letters of Henry Adams, 1858-1891 (Boston, 1930), p. 3-5. Hereafter cited as Letters, I.

13. Ibid.. I, 12-13.

14. Ibid.. I, 18.

15. Ibid.

16. Ibid.. I, 50-51.

17. William Dean Howells, Years of My Youth (New York, 1916), p. 8. 240

Notes, Chapter II, continued*

18. Mildred Howells, ed.. Life in Letters of William Dean Howells (Garden City, N.Y., 1828), I# 200.

19. Ohio State Journal, Nov. 2 4, 1858, p. 1,

20. Cincinnati Oasette. Feb. 26, 1857, p. 1.

21. "William Dean Howells and the Ashtabula Sentinel." Ohio State Archeological and Historical Quarterly, LIII (1S44), 59-51.

22. Ashtabula Z&io 7 Sentinel, Jan. 15, 1853, p. 5.

23. William I.i. Gibson and George Arms, A Bibliography of William Dean Howells (New York, 1948), pp. 74, 76.

24. Years, pp. 135-*136

25. Owen Wister, "William Dean Hownlls," Atlantic Llpnthly, CLX (Dec., 1937), 704-713.

26. Years, p. 80.

27. Ibid.. pp. 104-105.

28. Ibid.

29. Ibid., p. 124.

30. Ibid., p. 119.

31. F. C. Warston, "An Early Howells Letter," American Literature. XVIII (1S46-1947), 164.

32. Years, pp. 141-142.

33. Ibid.

34. Ibid., pp. 207-208.

36. William Dean Howells, Literary Friends and Acquaintance (New Yorlc, 1900), p. 37.

36. Ibid., p. 53.

37. Tears, pp. 229-250. 241

Notes, Chapter IT, continued!

38. Bdd Winifield Parks, ”A Realist Avoids Realityr W. D. Howells and the Civil /kr Years," South Atlantic Quarterly, LIT (Jan., 1953), 93-97.

39. Years, p, 235.

40. William Dean Howells, Impressions and Experiences (New York, 1896), p. 126.

41. Years, pp. 233-234.

42. Dixon .Vector, Sam Clemens of* Hannibal (Boston, 1952), pp. 54-79, 102-119.

43. Bernard DeVoto, Mark Twain’s Amerioa (Boston, 1932), pp. 80-86.

44. Walter Blair, Native Amerloan Humor (New York, 1937), pp. 63-64.

45. Henry Nash Smith, "Origins of a Native American Literary Tradition,” The American V.'riter and the European Tradition, ed• Margaret Denny and William H. Gilman {.Minneapolis, lYnn., 1950), p. 69.

46. Franklin J, Maine, ed.. Tall Tales of the Southwest (New York, 1946), p. 144.

47. Minnie K. 3rashear, Mark Twaint Son of Missouri (Chapel Hill, N. C., 1934), p. 119.

48. Edgar M. Branch, Mark Twain*s Letters in the Muscatine Journal (Chicago, 1942), p. 13.

49. Ihid., pp. 20—22.

50. Ibid., p. 18.

51. G. Ezra Dane, ed., tetters from the Sandwich Islands Written for the Saoramento Union by Ikrk Twain (Stanford tin!versity, Calif.. 1937)| Walter Francis Frear, Mark~~Twain and Hawaii (Chicago, 1946).

52. Franklin Yfelker and 0. Ezra Dane, eds., Mark Twain’s Travels with Mr. Brown (New York, 1940).

55. Mary M. Fairbanks, "The Cruise of the 'Quaker City'," Chautauquan, XIV (1891-1892), 430. 242

CHAPTER III

1. Education, pp. 71-73,

2. Ibid.. p. 74.

3. Letters, I, 1.

4 * I, 2.

5. Ibid.

6. Ibid.

7. Ibid., I, 8.

8. Education, pp. 76-77; Samuels, Adams. p. 56.

9. Harold Dean Cater, Henry Adams and His Friends (Boston, 1947), p. 4.

10. Letters, I, 2.

11. Ibid., I, 30-35.

12. Ibid.. I, 35-43.

13. Ibid., I, 43-47.

14. Education, pp. 86-87,

15. Samuels, Adams, pp. 64-65.

16. Letters, I, 4 8-50 ; 59.

17. "Henry Adams and Garibaldi, 1860," American Historical Review. XXV (Jan., 1920), 241.

18. Ibid.. pp. 247-248.

19. Letters. I, 58.

20. Ibid., I, 62.

21. Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, XLIII (1909-1910), 656-687. 245

Notes# Chapter HI# continued:

22. Worthington Chauncey Ford, ed.# A Cycle of Adams Letters# 2 vols. (Boston# 1920)# I# 196. Hereafter oited as Cycle#

23. Ibid.

24. "Captain John Smith,” North American Review# CIV (Jan.# 1867), 1-30.

25. "British Finance in 1816#" North American Review, CIV (April# 1867), 354-386.

26. "The Bank of England Restriction# 1797-1616," North American Review, CV (October, 1867), 393-434.

27. Letters, I, 97.

28. Ibid.# I, 111.

29. Education# p. 205.

30. Ibid.. pp. 8 9-90.

31. Cater# Adams and Friends, pp. 22-23.

32. Years. p. 237.

33. Life in Letters, I, 47.

34. Ashtabula Sentinel, Feb. 5# 1862, p. 1.

35. "Overland to Venice," Harper1s Monthly, CCXXVII (Nov., 1918), 847-845j Janes L. Voodress, Howells and Italy (Durham, N.C., 1952), pp. 6-7.

36. "Awaiting His Exequatur," The Hesperian Tree# ed. J. J. Piatt (Columbus# Ohio, 1903), pp. 425-429.

37. Venetian Life (Boston, 1895), pp. 371-372.

38. Ibid.. p. 372.

39. Woodress, Howells, pp. 157-160.

40. Literary Friends and Acquaintance (New Yoric, 1900), p. 93. 244

Kotos, Chapter III# continued*

41. Woodress, Howells, pp. 36-37.

42. Literary Friends, p. 91.

43. Ibid.

44. Life in Letters, I, 84* Woodress, Howells, p. 53.

45. C. E. Norton, ed.. Letters of Janies Russell Lowell, I, 338j cited in Woodress, Howells, p. 40.

46. Venetian, p. 94.

47. J. R. Lowell, Review of Venetian Life, North American Review, CIII (Oct., 1866), 612-613; H. H. Boyesen, nReal Conversations — a Dialogue Between .Villiari Dean Howells and Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen,” LpClure1s, I (June, 1893), 6.

46. Atlantic Monthly, XXXV (April, 1875), 491.

49. .Voodress, Howells, pp. 131-150 makes a strong oase for the drama of Carlo Goldoni (1707-1793) as the strongest force moving Howells toward realism both in his own writing and in his critical theory, and, indeed, in his 1893 interview with H. H, Boyesen, Howells gave Goldoni credit for removing "the romantic glamour that veiled the world to me, and kept me from seeing things as they are.” While I would not denigrate Goldoni*s influence, I would suggest that Howells was learning his realism by writing travel sketches at the same time that he was reading Goldoni.

50. Venetian, p. 94.

51. Ibid., p. 35.

52. Ibid., p. 36.

53. Ibidp. 37.

54. Ibid., p. 12.

55. Woodress. Howells, p. 62n

56. Venetian, p. 326.

57. Ibid., p. 343. 245

Notes, Chapter 113, continuedi

58, Woodress, Howells, pp, 65-68j 69.

59* Italian Life (Boston, 1867), p. 15.

60. Ibid., p. 19.

61. Woodress, Howells, p. 74 comments on the improvement in the handling of dramatic incident in Italian Journeys as apainst Venetian Life.

62. Letter to James M* Comley, October 22, 1871. Original in Comley papers, Ohio State Historical Sooiety.

63. "Archetypes of American Innocence* Lydia Blood and Daisy liiller," American Quarterly, V (1953), 31-38.

64. John C. McCloskey, "Mark Twain as Critic in The Innocents Abroad," American Literature, XXV (May, 1953), 139-151 and Arthur Soott, "The Innocents Abroad Revaluated," Western Humanities Review, VlI (Summer, 1953), 215-223.

65. Charles Farrar Browne, Artemus Ward in London (New York, 1867).

66• Ibid., p • 40•

67. Ibid., p. 44.

68. Ibid., p. 55.

69. Walter Blair notes this alternation of fool and wise man as a characteristic of American humor atiich first appears in the work of Bill Arp and Artemus Ward and gradually becomes general. Horse Sense in American Humor (Chicago, 1942), pp. 172-179.

70. Innocents, p. 567; cf. Blair, Horse Sense, p.200, and Leon T. Dickinson, "Mark Twain's Revisions In Writing The Innocents Abroad," Amerloan Literature, XIX (May, 1947), 156.

71. Innocents, p. 567*

72. Ibid., p. 535. The "Grimes" book is actually Tftlllam C. Prime, Tent Life in the Holy lend (New York, 1857). Twain's quotations are generally accurate, although he has made a few omissions (which do not change the sense or tone of the passage) without indicating thorn, and has rearranged a few passages* The picture Twain gives of the book is Just; Prime appears in his own pages 246 llotes, Chapter III, continue 1*

aa rattier an unsavory person— an unintentional piece of self- oondemnatlon. Cf. Dickinson, o£. clt., pp. 155-157.

73. (3oston, 1876). First edition 1853.

74. Hillard, Italy, pp. 10-11.

75. Innocenta. pp. 77-79.

CHAPTER IV

1. Arthur 0. LoveJoy, The Oreat Chain of Beln/;* A Study in the History of an Idea (Csunbrldge, Uass., 1936;, p. 11* "*lMeta- phyalcal pathos* is exemplified in any description of the nature of things, any characterisation of the world to which one belongs, in terms which, like the words of a poorn, awaken through their associations, and through a sort of empathy which they engender, a congenial mood or tone of feeling on the part of the philosopher or his reader.”

2. "Awaiting His Exequatur,” pp. 427-428.

3. The Innooents Abroad, or, Tho Hew Pilgrim's Progress (Hartford* Conn•, 1669), p. 7 6 . Hereafter referred to as Innocents.

4. Letters I, 35.

5. "Some TJemorable Places," Venetian M.fe.

6. Letters I* 35.

7. Cater* Adams and Friends, p. 26.

8. Aahtabula Sentinel, Feb. 12, 1862, p. 1.

9. 0£>. clt.. p. 10.

10. Life in Letters. I, 47.

11. P. 188.

12. Venetian, pp. 129, 170-171

13. Eduoation. pp. 297-298. 247

Motes, Chapter IV, continuedi

14. Innocents, pp. 9 9-100,

15. Venetian, pp. 197, 170,

16. Atlantic 'Monthly, XIX (Uarch, 1867), 380-383,

17. Samuel L. Clemens, A Tramp Abroad, 2 vols. (New York, 1924), I, 133. Hereafter cited as Tram.pl

18. Innooents, p. Ill,

19. Ibid., pp. 233-235; letter to Boston Transoript, Dec. 29, 1869, p. 1, quoted in Arthur L. Vogelback, ^Mark Twain: Newspaper Contributor," American Literature, XX (1948-1949), 112n,

20. A .Voman's Reason (Boston. 1883), pp. 142-143.

21. Life in Letters. I, 85-86.

22. Tramp, II, 247.

23. Letters, I, 183,

24. Life in letters. I, 57,

25. Ibid., I, 189.

26. i&llard Thorp, "Pil-rims' Return," Literary History of the United States (New York, 1948), II, 831-832, lire. Henry Adams com­ plained, "If Switzerland is to be every year more and more ravaged by tourists, we shall have to flee to the Himalayas for novelty and quiet." (Ward Thoron, ed.. The Letters of lirs. Henry Adams, 1865-1833 ^Boston, 1936}, p, 44.)

27. A. J. Norval, The Tourist Industry (London, 1936), pp. 37-45,

28. Carlton J. H. Hayes, The Historical Evolution of Modern Nation­ alism (New York, 193l jY Max H. Boehm and Carlton J. H. Hayes, ' "Nationalism," Encyclopedia of Soolal Soienoes (New York, 1933),

29. Theodosius Dobshansky notes the "stubbornly divergent opinions" of both geneticists and laymen on the inheritance of psyohio traits, but goes on to point out the fallacy of the notion that "individuals or raoes which show variations in their bodily structure must neoessarily show correlated differences in their mental make-up." ("The Qenetio Nature of Differences Among Men," 248

Notes, Chapter IV, continuedi

Evolutionary Thought In Aioarlofc# ad. Stow ^arsons £New Ha van# Conn. # 195OJ , pp. 145-148.) On this point saa also Jamas 0. Leyburn, "The Problem of Ethnic and National Impact from a Sociolo-’ioal Point of View," Foreign Influencas in American LI fa# ad. David F. Bowers ^Princeton, N . J ., 1944)# pp. 57-66.

30. Venetian, p. 12 9.

31. Life of Abraham Lincoln (Springfield, 111., 1938), p. 56.

32. Italian, pp. 65-66.

33. "Italian Bri^anda^e," North American Review, Cl (July, . 172.

34. American Historical Review, XXV (Jan., 1920), p. 253.

35. Ibid., p. 248.

36. Innocents, p. 193.

37. New York Timas, Dec. 25, 1861, p. 1.

38. Letters, I, 216-217.

39. Education, p. 122.

40. A Fearful Responsibility (Boston, 1881), p. 100.

41. P. 239.

42. My Mark Twain (New York, 1910), pp. 12-13.

43. Venetian, pp. 29 8-299.

44. Ibid., p. 353.

45. Ibid., p. 340.

40. Ibid.

47. Ibid., pp. 171, 340-341. 00 V* . Ibid., p. 347i Life in Letters, I, 48. 249

Notes, Chapter IV# continued!

49* Harold Dean Cater, "Henry Adam* Reports on a German Gymnasium," American Historical Review, U I I (Oct., 1947), 66.

50. Education, p. 83•

51. Letters, I, 40. On the shift in views of German character, see Hans Kohn, The Idea of Nationalism (New York, 1944), pp. 9-10.

52. Italian, p. 65.

53. Innocents, p. 126.

54. Ibid., p. 140.

55. Ibid.

56. "The Great French Duel," Tramp, 1, 49-62,

57. A susmary from 1820 to 1960 in the Census for 1860 shows that 5,062,414 immigrants arrived by sea during those years* Of these, 2,750,874, or over half, were from the United Kingdom and 1,486,044 were from German states. Of the immigrants from the United Kingdom, however, 967,266 were Irish, and presumably would not be classed as "Anglo-Saxon." The population of prin­ cipal American cities in 1860 shows 63,791 foreign born (45,991 Irish) as against 114,050 native b o m in Boston; 383,717 foreign b o m , including 203,740 Irish and 119,984 Germans, as against 429,952 native b o m in New York; and 96,086 foreign bora including 50,510 Germans and 29,926 Irish as against 90,092 native bora in St. Louis. Ancestry of the native b o m is not indicated. By 1860 the population of the United States was certainly not exclusively, and perhaps not even predomin­ antly, "Anglo-Saxon." U. S. Census Office, Population of the United States in 1860 (Washington, 1864),

58. Their Wedding Journey (Boston, 1899), p. 206,

59. Esther (New York, Scholars* Facsimile Reprints, 1938), pp. 27-28,

60. Ibid., p. 129.

61. The Scarlet Letter (Boston, 1900), p. 70,

62. Venet ian. p. 383, 250

Notes, Chapter IV, continuedi

63. Their Wedding Journey, p. 178.

64. Pp. 232-233.

65. Richard Hofstadter, Social Darwinism In American Thought, 1860- 191> (Philadelphia, 1945), p • 148" points out that the American Anglo-Saxon mystique arose prior to Darwinism, but was later supported and systematized by it.

66. Innocents, p. 157.

67. Ashtabula Sentinel, Feb. 5, 1862, p. 1*

68. "Lereo," "The Snigrant of 1802," Ashtabula Sentinel, Feb. 9, Mar. 9, Liar. 30, Apr. 20, 1854.

69. Venetian, p. 149.

70. Cater, "Henry Adams Reports," p. 67.

71. "Henry Adams and Oaribaldi, 1860."

72. Albert Bigelow Paine, ed., Mark Twain's Notebook (New York, 1935) p. 149.

7 3. Letters, I, 6.

74. Ibid., p. 15.

75. Ibid., p. 27.

76. Ibid.. p. 49.

77. Ibid.. p. 91.

78. Ibid., p. 96.

79. Ibid.

80. Education, p. 200.

81. "Awaiting His Exequatur," p. 426.

82. Life In Letters, I, 58-59. 251

Notes, Chapter IV, continued:

83. "A Little German Capital,” Nation, January 4, 1866. Vfoodress, p. 7n, speculates that this sleet oh may have been written as early as 1862. Sinoe Howells had it published in 1866, however, we may oonolude that he saw no reason to alter its conclusions.

84. Ihnooents, pp. 186-187.

85. Venetian, p. 569.

86. Oscar Handlin points out that the preservation of delicate economic balances by careful adjustment of dowry and portion in peasant villages was too important a matter to be left to indi­ vidual oaprice. Hence the matchmakers were shrewd, skilled elders who served the entire conKiunity. (The Uprooted [3oston, 1952], p. 13.)

87. "Tonelli's Marriage," A Fearful Responsibility, p. 218.

88. Venetian, p. 318.

89. Ibid., p. 369.

9°. Ibid.. p. 364.

91. Letters from the Sandwich Islands, pp. 115-116.

92. Innocents, p. 136.

93. Notebook, p. 153; Tramp. II, 156; ” .'/hat Paul Bourget Thinks of of Us." In Defense of Harriet Shelley and Other Essays (New York, 1929), pp. 148-170.

94. Tramp. II, 209.

95. Education. pp. 96-97.

96. Tahltl (New York, Scholars* Facsimile Reprints, 1947), p. 138.

97. Letters. I, 222.

98. Venetian, pp. 382-383.

99. Edwin H. Cady has developed this theme at length in The Gentleman in America (Syracuse, N.Y., 1949), pp. 184-205. 252

Notes, Chapter IV, oontinued;

100. Their Weddlnr. Journey. p. 144.

101. "A Little German Capital," ppi 11-12.

102. Benjamin T. Spencer, "A National Literature, 1837-1855," American Literature, VIII (May, 1936), 125-159; Idem., "A National Literature; Post-Civil War Decade," Modern Lan^uare Quarterly. IV (Maroh, 1943), 71-86; Idem.. "The New Realism and a National Literature," PMLA. LVI (Deo., 1941), 1116-1132; idem., "The Smiling Aspects o'f Ldfe and a National Literature," Bn-.llah Institute Essays; 1949 (New York, 1950). John C. McCloskey, "The Campaign of the Periodicals after the War of 1812 for National American Literature," PMLA, L (Mar., 1935), 262-273; Howard Mumford Jones, "A National Spirit in Letters," The Theory of American Literature ^Ithaca, N.Y., 1948), pp. 48- 78.

103. Letters, I, 5.

104. "Letter from Rome," Boston Dally Courier. July 6, 1860, p. 1.

105. Letters, I, 249.

106. Pp. 154-155.

107. Venetian, pp. 154, 157.

108. Innocents. pp. 192-193; Arthur L. Soott, "The Innocents Abroad Revaluated, Western Humanities Review, VII (Summer, 1953), 215- 223.

109. Innocents, p. 304.

110. Tramp, II, 243-246.

111. Amerioan Historical Herlew, XXV, 245.

112. "Letter from Rome,,t Boston Daily Courier, July 6, 1860, p. 1.

113. "A Little German Capital," pp. 12-13.

114. Venetian, pp. 155-156.

115* Life in Letters. I, 150. 265

Notes, Chapter IV, continued*

116. Innocents, pp. 257, 240.

117. Ibid.. p. 260.

118. "A Little German Capital,” p. 12.

119. Ibid.

120. Letters, I, 127.

121. Cycle. I, 196.

122. ’’Henry VKadsworth Longfellow," North American Reflow, CIV (April, 1867), 556.

125. "fiecent Italian Comedy,” North American Reflew, XCIX (Oct., 1864), 567.

124. Ralph Henry Cab riel. The Course of American Democratic Thought (New York, 1940), pp. 22-25; Hans Kohn, The Idea of Nationalism (New York, 1944), pp. 265-525.

125. ”A Little German Capital,” p. 11.

126. American Historical Reflew. XXV, 246.

127. Innocents, p. 71.

128. Ibid., p. 51.

129. New York Times, June 7, 1861, p. 5.

150. Lettere, I, 92,

131. Ashtabula Sentinel, Feb. 12, 18 62, p. 1.

152. Letters, I, 122.

133. George Trefelyan, Life of John Bright (Boston, 1914), p. 305.

154. Italian, p. 11.

135. Arthur Vf. Silfer, ed«, Amerloan Historical Reflew, LI (0ot., 1945), 74-89. 254

Notes, Chapter IV, continued!

136* Trevelyan, o£. cit., pp. 301, 305.

137. "Italian Brigandage," p. 189.

138. Innocents, pp. 267-271.

139. Cater, "Henry Adams Reports," p. 66.

140. Venetian, p. 161.

141. Innocents, pp. 256-260* 178-180.

142. Ibid., p. 256 .

143. Ibid.. p. 209.

144. "Italian Brigandage," p. 189.

145. New York Times, Sept. 24, 1861, p. 2.

146. Letters, I, 56.

147. "Henry Adams and Garibaldi, 1860," pp. 253-254.

148. Ibid., p. 252.

149. "The Nature of Liberty," Forum, XX (Dec., 1895), 402.

150. "Nature of Liberty," p. 402.

151. "Recent Italian Comedy," North American Review, XCIX (Oct., 1864), 364-401i Review of Ongaro. N~. Am'.Rev77 CVI (Jan., 1868), 42.

152. Letters, I, 121.

153. Charles I. Glieksberg, "Henry Adams Reports a Trades-Union Meeting," New Ebgland Quarterly, XV (Deo., 1942), 725.

154. Ibid.. p . 727.

155. Cyole. I, 244-246.

156. Ibid.. II, 87-88. 255

Notes, Chapter IV, continuedi

157. Ibid., II, 61.

158. Ibid.. II, 107-108.

159. Cater, Hpnry Adama and His Friends, p. 21.

160. Cycle. II, 162.

161. "The Question of Monuments," Atlantic Monthly, XVIT (May, 1866), 647.

162. Review of Motley's Historic Progress and American Democracy, Atlantic Monthly, XXIII (April, 1869)7 519.

CHAPTER V

1. Letters, I, 159.

2. North American Review, CVIII (April, 1869), 610-640.

3. "The New York Gold Conspiracy," .Westminster Review, XCIV (October, 1870), 411-436.

4. Letters, 1, 290.

5. The Life of Albert Gallatin (Philadelphia, 1880).

6. Gallatln. p. 67.

7. Ibid., p. 491.

8. Ibid., p. 376.

9. History of the United States of America during the First Admin­ istration of Thomas Jefferson, 2 vols. (New York. 1889); History of the United States of America during the Second Administration of Thomas Jefferson, 2 vols. (frew York, 1890)j History of the fajted States of America during the First Administration of Janies Madison. 2 vols. (Sew York, 1890)i History of the United States of Aaerioa during the Seoond Administration of Janes ttidl'son. 3 vols. (New York, 1891). Volumes are continuously numbered, I-IX. Hereafter oited as History. History, II, 118- 119, 256

Notes, Chapter V, continued:

10. Gallatin, p. 5 60.

11. Ibid., p. 492.

12. Ibid., p. 635.

13. (Boston, 1862).

14. Cf. .Villiam Jordy, Henry Adams* Scientific Historian (New Haven, Conn., 1952), p. 120.

16. History. IX, 212-213.

1G. Ibid., IX, 242.

17. ^tenry Adams^, Democracy: An American Novel (New York, 1908).

18. Ibid., p. 182.

19. History. I, 158.

20. Ibid . , IX, 2 37.

21. "The Independents in tho Canvass," North American Review. CXXIII (October, 1876), 466.

22. Democracy, p. 370.

23. ^ienry Adams and Henry Cabot Lodyo/^. "Von Holst's History of the United States," North American Review, CXXIII (Oct., 1876), 360- 361.

24. Letters, I, 183.

25. Katharine Simonds, "The Tragedy of Jrfrs. Henry Adams," New England Quarterly, IX (1936), 564-582.

26. Henry Adams, tr. and ed., Memoirs of Aril Talma1 E. Marama of Bimeo, Terllrere of Toorai. Terrlnui of Tahiti, Tauraatua E. Amo (Paris7 1901i New Yorlc, 1947711

27. Adams's various presentations o f this theory are to be found in Brooks Adams, ed.. The Degradation of the Demooratio Dogma (New York, 191S) and In TVie Education of Henry Adams, especially Chapters XXXIII and XXXIV. I believe that Adams thoroughly 257

Notes, Chapter V, continued:

understood the fallacy of his analogy between physical and social "forces" but used it as a striking method of dramatizing his pessimism over the way affairs were moving in the last forty years of his life* See Roy F. Nichols, "The Dynamic Interpreta­ tion of History," New England Quarterly, VIII (1935), 163-178; William Jordy, o p , c it«

28. The best exposition of this theory outside of The Education is R. P. Blackmur, "The Atlantic Unities,” Hudson Review,' V (1952), 212-232.

29. Education, pp. 421-422.

30. For Adams*s expression of his need to return to Paris annually, see Letters, II, 46, 103, 141, 594.

31. Bliss Perry, ed., Life and Letters of Henry L. Higrinson (boston, 1921), p. 459.

32. "Theodore Roosevelt's Washing ton," Atlantic Monthly. CLXV (Sept., 1934), 327-328.

33. Perry, ojs. cit., p. 422.

34. Maurice Le Breton, "Henry Adams etla France," Harvard et la France (Paris, 1936), pp. 74-96.

35. (Boston, 1919) from plates of the 1913 edition issued "by author­ ity of the American Institute of Architects."

36. Albert 3 . Cook, ed., "Six Letters of Henry Adams," Yale Review, n. s. X (1920), 134.

37. H. F. Blunt, "The Mai-Education of Henry Adams," Catholic World, C^>V (1937), 46-52; H. L. Creek,"The Medievalism of Henry Adams," South Atlantic Quarterly, XXIV (1925), 86-97; Charles I. Glicks- berg, "Henry Adams and the Aesthetic truest," Prairie Schooner. XXV (Fall, 1951), 241-250; Frances Quinlivan, ^Irregularities of the Mental Mirror," Catholic /forId, CUCIII (April, 1946), 58-65.

58. Setters, II, 79.

39. Jfabel 1st Farge, ed., Letters to a Niece...by Henry Adams with a Niece's Memoirs (Boston, 1920), pp. 125-134. 258

Notes, Chapter V, continued!

40. James C. Austin, Fields of the Atlantic Monthly (3an liarlno, Calif., 1953), pp. 143-145.

41. Life lr Letters, I,109;

42. Life In Letters, 1, 142.

43. Ibid., I, 151-153.

44. Ibid.. 1, 135.

45. Atlantic .'.iontiily, XXXII' (Hay, 1874), 586.

46* Life in Letters, I, 188.

47. "The Next President," Atlantic Fonthly, XXI (B5ay, 1868), 628-632} "Politics,” At1ant1c Monthiy, XXX fJuly, 1872), 127-128; and (Nov., 1872), 638-640.

48. "The Next President," p. 620. Louis J. Budd, "Howells, The Atlantic J.ipnthly and Hopublj canism," American Literature, XXIV (? !ay, 1952), 139-156 shows on the basis o f the selection of arti­ cles appearing in the Atlantlc under Howells’s editorship that Howells aided the RepubVi'c'an cause and made the magazine a voice of the conservative rationale.

49. Life in Letters, I, 318, 342.

50. Ibid., I, 322; 355.

51. (Boston, 1806).

52. Life in Letters, I, 338.

53. Ibid., I, 340.

54. Ibid.. I, 3 38.

55. The Marble Faun, Riverside Edition (Boston, 1888.)# P* 15.

56. Criticlgn and Fiction (New York, 1892), pp. 127-128; reprinted from ^The Editor's Study," Harper1s New Monthly Magazine, LXXIII (Sept., 1886), 641-642.

57. (New York, 1880). 259

Note*, Chapter V, continued!

58. Ibid., p. 41a

59. "James'* Hawthorne," Atlantic Monthly, XLV (Feb., 1880), 282-2B4*

60. See Chapter III, ante.

61. Hawtlorne. pp. 41-42.

62. Ibid., p. 43. Richard P. .8 lac lemur, "The American Literary l&cpatriate," Foreign Influences In American Life, ed. David F. Bowers (Princeton, N. J., 1944), pp. 129-132, points out that while James bitterly felt the deficiencies of Amerioan life, his work is a dramatisation of his knowledge of the "Joke."

63. Criticism, p. 12 5.

64. Ibid.. p. 126. This passage of Criticism and Fiction originally appeared in "Editor's Study," Harper s New Monthly TSigasine, LXXXI (Oct., 1890), 803-804. Edwin H. Cady, "A ttote on Howells and 'The Smiling Aspects of Life*," Anerican Literature, XVII (1945), 175-178 notes that Howells eliminated the passage offen­ sive to the English for the 1910 edition. Professor Cady sug­ gests that Howells may have been more kindly disposed toward the English after he received his honorary doctorate from Oxford in 1904, and notes a suggestion by Professor Clarence Gohdes that Howells may also have been interested in increasing sales of his books in England.

65. Ibid.

66. Criticism, pp. 127-129. Originally published in "Editor’s Study," Harper's* New Monthly Magazine, LXXIII (Sept., 1886), 641-642. Everett Carter, William Dean Howells' Theory of Critical Ifealism," ELH, XVI (June, 1949), 151-166.

67. An excellent aocount, on which the following paragraphs are in part based, is Walter Fuller Taylor, The Economic Novel in America (New York, 1942), pp. 214-281.'

68. Life in Letters, II, 97.

69. "A Little German Capital"; Silver Veddlng, II, 53.

70. London Films (New York, 1905)| Certain Delightful English Towns (New York, 1906)j Roman Holidays and 6 t h e r s vNew York, 1908)i Seven English Cities (New York, 1969)i Familiar Spanish Travels "OTew York, lL9i3). 260

Notes, Chapter V, continued:

71* Seven English Cities, pp* 175-176,

72. Ibid., p. 159.

73. See, for example. Certain Delightful Bullish Towns, pp. 96, 159j and Roman Holldaya, p. 77.

74. William M. Gibson, "Twain and Howells * Anti-Imperialists," New England Quarterly, XX (Dec., 1947), 435-470.

75. Harper's Vipokly. May 10, 1902, p. 585.

76. North Amsrloan Review, CLXXII (June, 1901), 934-944.

77. Ibid., pp. 942-943.

78. Ibid., p. 940.

79. Gladys Carmen Bellamy, Mark Twain as a Literary Artist (Norman, Okla., 1950), p. 316.

80. Arthur L. Scott, "Mark Twain Looks at Europe," South Atlantic Quarterly, LIT (July, 1953), 399-413, traces fbur stages in Twain's attitude toward Europe. He says, for instance, that Twain was most nationalistic in the 1880’s, and that his work of the 1890's Indicates his belief that England was the greatest country in the world. I question the validity of these stages! it seems to me that Twain was fairly consistent in his opposition to Europe after 1880, and that his final doubt of America's superiority did not enhance his admiration of England or the Continent.

81. Notebook, p. 140.

82. Ibid., p. 150.

83. John B. Hoben, "Mark Twain's A Connecticut Yankee* A Genetio Study," American Literature, XVIII (1946), 197-218; Arthur L. Scott, "Mark Twain as a Critic of Europe" (Unpublished disserta­ tion, University of Michigan, 1948) t Albert Bigelow Paine, ed., Mark Twain's Speeches. Stormfield Edition (New York, 1929), pp. 150-154.

84. Notebooks, pp. 195-209. 261

Notes, Chapter V, continued:

65* Bourget, already a prominent novelist, was invited to visit the United States in 1 893 and record his impressions. The invitation was extended by James Cordon Bennett who subsequently published in the New York Herald the papers that ultimately formed Outre-Mer. Walter Todd Seoor, Paul Upurget and the Nouvelle (New York, "1948")”, pp* 85-86.

86. "What Paul Jourget Thinks of Us," In Defense of Harriet Shelley and Other Essays, ed. Albert Bigelow Paine, Stormfield Edition (New York, 19295", p. 152.

87. See especially the letter to Orion Clemens, January 5, 1889, Mark Twain's Letters, ed. Albert Bigelow Paine, Stormfield Edition, 2 vols. VNew York, 1929), II, 506-508, and John 0»Neill, Prodigal Genius* The Life of Nikola Tesla (New York, 1944), pp. 157-158.

8 8 . A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court, Stormfield Edition (New York, 192 9), p. 398”.

89. Letters, II, 519.

90. Speeches, pp. 151-152.

91. The American Claimant and Other Stories and Sketches, Stormfield Edition'(New""Vork, 1929), pp. 79-81. '

92. Yankee, pp. 238-246; 322-323. This passage and passages from other sources cited here leave no doubt that in A Connecticut Y*nir»« Twain was aiming at modern England and other modern monarchies. He left himself open to the charge that he was kicking a dead torse, however, when he objected to le droit de seigneur, eruel punishments (in The Prince and the Pauper), and other outmoded European customs. His attack on Southern romanticism, which he attributed to the vogue of Scott in Chapters XL and XLVI of Life on the Mississippi (1883), indicates that he was also interested in dinning the glamor of chivalry.

93. "Bourget," pp. 164-166.

94. "Switzerland, the Cradle of Liberty," What Is ManT and Other Essays, Stormfield Edition (New York, 1929), pp. 193-194.

95. "At the Shrine of St. Wagner," What Is Man, pp. 214; 220-222.

96. "Marlenbad, a Health Factory," Europe and Elsewhere, p. 127. 262

Notes* Chapter V, continuedi

97. Following the Equator, Stormfield Edition, 2 v o I g . (New York, 1929), I, 189-190.

9P. Ibid., I, 148-149.

99. Ibid.. II, 4-5.

100. Equator, I, 304; II, 184.

101. Equator, II, 300-301.

102. "A .Vord of Encouragement Tor Our Blushing Exiles,** Europe, pp. 221—224.

103. tVilllam 11. Gibson, "Mark Twain and Howells* Anti-Imperial!sts,** New Ragland quarterly, XX (December, 194 7), 435-470 traces this development in detail*

104. "To the Person Silting in Darkness," Europe, pp. 262-26 3, 266.

105. Bernard DeVoto, ed.. Hark Twain in Eruption... (New York, 1940), pp. 302—383.

106* Albert Bigelow Paine, ed., Mark Twaln*s Autobiography. Stormfield Edition (New York, 1929), II, 292.

1C7. Dixon Wecter, Sam Clemens of Hannibal Boston, 1952), p. 245. SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

Only items of substantial usefulness are inoluded in this selected list; not all of the material oited in the notes is inoluded. Works of Adams. Howells, and Twain are listed chronologically as far as possible.

I• General

Adams. Ephraim D.. "The Point of View of the British Traveler in America." Political Science Quarterly. XXIX (1914). 244-264.

Bewley. Marius. "Fenimore Cooper and the Eoonomio Age." American Literature, XXVI (1954). 166-195.

Boehm. Max H. and Carlton J. H. Hayes, "nationalism." Bioyolopedla of Idie Sooial Sciences (New York, 1955).

Bowers. David, Bd., Foreign Influences in American Life (Princeton, N.J., 1944)

Brown, Herbert R*. "The Great American Novel," Amerioan Literature, VII (1935), 1-14.

Bryant, William Cullen, Letters of a Traveller, or. Notes of Things Seen in Europe and Amerioa (New York. 1865).

Cooper. James Fenimore, The Bravo; A Tale (New York, 1901). First edition, 1831.

. Gleanings in Europe, ed. Robert B. Spiller, 2 vols. (New York,' 1930) . Fi'rs't edition, France. 1837* England. 1837.

Curtl, lferle. "Amerioa Reorosses the Ocean," The Growth of American Thought (New York, 1943), pp.659-685. "

. "The Reputation of America Overseas, (1776-1860)," American Quarterly, I (1949), 68-82.

Denny, Margaret and William H. Gilman, eds.. The American Writer and the European Tradition (Minneapolis, I960).

Dobshansky, Theodosius, "The Genetic Nature of Differences Among Men," Evolutionary Thought in America, ed. Stow Persons (New Haven, 1960), pp. 86-166. - 263 - 264

Bnerson, Ralph Waldo, English Traits (Boston, 1890), First edition, 1866.

Fiedler, Leslie, "Dlsoovery o f America,'1 Kenyon Re▼ lew, XIV (1952), 359-577.

Ginsberg, M., "National Character," British Journal of Psychology (General Seotion), XXXII (1942), 183-205.

Hawthorne, Nathaniel, Our Old Home (Boston, 1863).

.Hayes, Carlton, J. H. The Historical Evolution of M o d e m Nationalism (New York, 1931).

Herts, Frederick, Nationality in History and Polltlost A Study of the Psychology and Sociology of National Sentiment and Character (London, 1944)•

Hofstadter, Richard, Sooial Darwinism in American Thought, 1860-1915 (Philadelphia, 194571

Irving, Washington, The Sketohbook of Geoffrey Crayon. Gent. (New York, 1864). First edition, 1819.

______, Braoebridge Hall (New York, 1868). First edition, 1822.

, Tales of a Traveller (New York, 1894). First edition, 1824.

, The Alhaafcra (New York, 1886). First edition, 1832.

Jones, Howard Mumford, Anerloa and French Culture. 1750-1848 (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1927).

, "The Influence of European Ideas in Nineteenth-Century Amerioa," Amerioan Literature, VII (1935), 241-273.

, The Theory of American Literature (ithaoa, N.Y., 1948).

Klineberg, Otto, Raoe Differences (New York, 1935).

Kohn, Hans, The Idea of Nationalism* A Study in Its Origins and Back­ ground (New York, 1944).

Koht, Halvdan, The American Spirit in Europe« A Survey of Trans­ atlantic Influences (Philadelphia. 1949J.

Kravis, Michael, The Atlantic Civilisation* Bighteenth-Century Origins (Ithaoa, N.Y., 1949). 266

Long, Orie Vftllltm, Literary Pioneers* Rarly American Explorers of guropeen Culture (Cambridge, Mass., 1935).

Longfellow, Henry Yfcdsworth, Outre-Her (New York, 1935)•

Lovejoy, Arthur 0*, "Introduction* The Study of the History of Ideas,1* The Great Chain of Being* A Study of the History of sm Idea (Cambridge, itss., 19367* pp. 3-23.

Lowell, James Russell, n0n a Certain Condescension in Foreigners," The Complete Writings of James Ruseell Lowell, 16 vols. (Cambridge, Mass.. 1904), I, 291-332,

MoCloskey, J. C., "The Campaign of the Periodicals after the >/ar of 1812 for National American Literature," PMLA, L (1935), 262-273.

Mesiok, Jane L., The English Traveller in Amerioa. 1786-1835 (New York, 1922).

Kuhn, Ferner, The Wind 31ew from the Bast* A Study in the Orientation of American Culture (New Vork, 1942)•

Parkes, Henry 3amford, "The United States in World Affairs," The Amerloan Experience* An Interpretation of the History and ClVllisation of the Amerioan People (Now YorkT 1947). pp. 313-533.

Peyre, Henri, "Humanistio Scholarship and National Prestige," The AC IS Newsletter, IV (1953), 3-9.

Rahv, Philip, ed., Dlsoovery of Europe* The Story of American Experience in the Old World (Boston, 1947).

Riessmn, David, "Psychological Types and National Charaoter," Amerioan Quarterly, V (1963), 325-343.

Roth, Regina, "Surrey of Travel Literature in the New York Tribune, July 30, 1850-January 1, 1857" (Unpublished paper, The Ohio State University, 1947).

Spencer, Benjamin T., "A National Literature, 1837-1855," Amerioan Literature. VIII (1936), 125-169.

, "A National Literaturei Post-Civil Yfar Deoade," Modern Language Quarterly, IV (1943), 71-86.

, "The New Realism and a National Idterature," PMLA. LVI (1941), 1116-1162. 266

Spencer* Benjamin T., "The Smiling Aspeots of Life and a National Literature*" Siglish Institute Essays t 1949 (New York, 1950), pp. 117-146.

Spiller* Robert E., The American in England Durinr. the First Half Century of Independence (New York* 1926).

* FeMmore Cooper* Critic of Hi a Timsa (New York, 1931).

Spoerri* William T., The Old World and the Newt A Synopala of Current Buropean Views on Amerioan Civilisation (Zurich. 1936)•

Sulsbaoh, Walter* National Conaolouaneaa (Washington. 1943).

Taylor* Bayard, Views Afoott or Europe Seen with Knapsack and Staff (New York, I860). First editi on, 1646.

Taylor, Walter Fuller, The Boonomic Novel in America (New York* 1942).

Thorp* Willard, "Pilgrims' Return," Literary Hjstopr of the United States* ed. Robert Spiller and others, 2 vols. (New tork* 1948)* II, 827-842.

United States Census Office, Population of the United States in 1860 (Washington* 1864).

Van Doren* Carl* "Bayard Taylor," Dictionary of American Biography (New York, 1936). ------

Van Doren* Uark, Nathaniel Hawthorne (New York* 1949).

Vittorlnl, Blio, "American Influences on Contemporary Italian Literature," American Quarterly. I (1949), 3-8.

Wegelin, Christof, "The Conoept of Europe in Amerioan Fiction from Irving to Hawthornei A Study in the Literary Exploitation of the Changing Attitude toward the Old World" (Unpublished dissertation, Johns Hopkins* 1947).

, "Europe in Hawthorne's Fiotion," WTJI, xlV (1947), 219-245.

, "Social Criticism of Europe in the Fiotion of N. P. Kellis," American Literature. XX (1949), 313-322.

Wlttman, Otto, Jr., "The Italian Experience (Amerioan Artists in Italy, 1830-1875)," American Quarterly, IV (1952), 3-15. 267

II. Honry Adams

A* Primary Material

Adams, Henry, "The First Education of Henry Adama," ed. George McKee Blsey, Hew England Quarterly, XIV (1941), 663-684. Written in 1858.

, "Henry Adams Reporta on a German Gymnasium," Amerlcan Historical Review, LIII (1947), 59-74. Written in 1859.

"H.B.A.," Six lettera in the Boston Daily Courier, April 30, 1860 to July 13, I860* For a complete listing of these lettera aa well as those from Washington in the Boston Dajly Advertiser. 1860-61 and those from England in the New York TlAes, 1861-62, see Ernest Samuels, The Young Henry Adams, pp. 314-516.

^Ldams, Henry^, Seventeen lettera in the Boston Dally Advertiser, Deoember 7, 1860 to February 11, 1861.

, "The Great Seoeasion Winter, 1860-1861," Proceedings of the Massachusetts Historical Society, XLIII (1910), 656-687,

7 i "The Federal Appointments for Massachusetts," New York Times. April 5, 1861, p. 8.

/" 7. Thirty-one lettera In the New York Times. June 7, 1861 to January 21, 1862.

/ ~ ~JB "A Visit to Manchester. Extracts from a Private Diary," Boston Daily Courier. December 16, 1861. Reprinted in American Historical Review, LI (1945), 74-89, ed. Arthur

. "Report to William Henry Seward, Maroh 27, 1863," Records of the Department of State. Diplomatic Despatches, Great Britain, Vol. 82, No. 358. Reprinted In New England Quarterly. XV (1942), 724-728, ed. Charles I. Gliolcsberg. f~ 7* "Captain John Smith," North American Review. CIV (1867), 1-30.

7* "British Finanoe in 1816," North Amerioan Review, CIV (1867), 354-386.

, "The Bank of England Restriction," North Amerioan Review, CV (1867), 393-434*

/ " 7# "American Finanoe, 1865-1869," Edinburgh Review. CXXIX (18691, 604-533* • 6 6

______, "The Session," North American Review. CVIII (1869), 610*640.

, "Civil Service Reform," North Amerioan Review, CIX (1869), 443-476.

, "The Senate and the Exeoutive," Nation, January 6, 1870, pp .T 5-6 •

and Francis A. Whlker, "The Legal Tender Act," North American Review, CX (1870), 299-327.

, "The Session, ie69-1870," North American Review, CXI (I870), 29-62.

f ~ ______7* "The New York Gold Conspiracy," Westminster Review, n.s. XXXVII (1870), 411-436.

and Charles Francis Adams, Jr., Chapters of Erie and Other & s a y s (Boston, 1871).

/ * 7* "Maine*s Village Communities," North American Review. CXIV (1872), 196-199.

7" 7 . "Stubb's Constitutional History of England," North Amerioan Review. CXIX (1674), 233-244.

/~______7 . "Kitchin's History of France," North American Review. CXIX (1874), 442-447.

f Z . ____ 7* "Maine's Early History of Institutions," North Amerioan Review, CXX (1676), 432-438.

and Henry Cabot Lodge, "Von Holst's History of the United States^" North Amerioan Review. CXXIII (1876), 328-361.

/ " 7 b "The Independents in the Canvass," North Amerioan Review, CXXIII (1876), 426-467.

, "Anglo-8exon Courts of Law," Essays in Anglo-Saxon law, ed. Henry Adams (Boston, 1876), pp. 1-64.

, The Life of Albert Gallatin (Philadelphia, 1879).

7 b Demooracyi An Amerioan Novel ^New York, 1879).

, "Napoleon Ier at Saint-Domingue," Revue Hlstorique, XXIV (1884;, 92-130. 269

/“______7* Frances Snow Compton ^peeud_.7» Batheri A Morel (Now York, 1884).

Adama, Henry, Hlatory of the Unitod Statoa of America during the FIrat Admlnlatration of Thomaa Jofforaon, 2 vole. (Now York, 1889).

, Hlatory of the United Statoa of America during the Sooond Auto in 1 at ration of Thomas Jefferson, 2 vole. TNew York. 1890Y.

, Hlatory of the United Statoa of Amerioa during the FIrat Adaalnl at rat Ion of James Uadi a on, 2 vola .''(BoVr York. 1890).

, Hlatory of the United Statea of America during the Spoond Administration of James E d i s o n , 3 vole. (New York, 1891).

, Hlatorloal Eaaaya (New York, 1891).

, "The Tendenoy of History," American Hlatorloal Aaaociatlon Be port for 1894 (Washington, 1895), pp. 17-25.

, "Recognition of Cuban Independence," Senate Report No. 1160 of the~ 54th Congress, 2d Seaalon, December 21, 1896, pp. 1-25.

, trana. and ed.. Memoirs of Aril Talmal B. Marama of Bimoo Terlirare of Tooral, Terrinui of Tahiti, Tauroatua E. Amo (New York. 1947). First edlotion, 1901.

, Mont-Saint-Mlohel and Chartres (Boston, 1935). First edition, 1904.

, The Education of Henry Adams (Boston, 1918). First edition, 1907.

, A Letter to American Teachers of History (Baltimore, 1910).

, "Buddha and Brahma," Yale Review, V (1915), 62-89.

. The Degradation of the Democratic Dogma, with an intro- duotory note by Brooke Adams (Mew York, 1919)7

, Lettera to a Niece...by Henry Adame with a Mlooo's Memories, ed. Mabel LaFargo (Boston, 1920).

Ford, Worthington C., ed., A Cycle of Adame Lettera. 1861-1865, 2 vole. (Boston, 1920).

Luqulens, Frederick B ., ed., "Seventeen Letters of Henry Adams," Tale Review. X (1920), 111-150. 270

Cook, Albert S., ed., "Six letters of Henry Adame," Yale Review. X (1920), 131-140.

, ed., "Three letters from Henry Adams to Albert S. Cook," Eaclflo Review. II (1921), 273-275.

Ford, .Yorthington, C., ed.. Letters of Henry Adams, 1858-1891 (Boston, 1930).

. ed.. Letters of Henry Adams, 1892-1918 (Boston, 1938).

Adame, Marian Hooper, Lettera of Mrs. Henry Adame, ed. Ward Thoron (Boston, 1936)•

Cater, Harold Dean, ed., Henry Adams and His Friends* A Collection of His Unpublished Letters (Boston, 1947").

B. Secondary Material

Adams, Ephraim D., Great Britain and the American Clrll War. 2 vols. (London, 1925).

Adams, James Trualow, "Henry Adams and the Hew Physiost Its Effect on His Theory of History," Yale Review, XIX (1929), 283-302.

, The Adams Family (Boston, 1930)•

, Henry Adame (New York, 1933).

"At Mr. Adams's," New Republic, May 25, 1918, pp. 106-108.

Baym, Max I., "William James and Henry Adame." New England Quarterly, X (1937), 717-742.

, "Henry Adams and the Critios," Amerioan Scholar, XV (1945), 79- 86.

, The French Education of Henry Adame (New York, 1951).

Beach, Joeeph Warren, "The Education of Henry Adame,n The Outlook for Amorloan Prose (chioago, 1926), pp. 202-214.

Beard, Charles A., "Historians at Worki Brooke and Henry Adame," Atlentio Monthly. CLXXI (1943), 87-93.

Beoker, Carl, "Henry Adams Once More," Saturday Review of Literature. April 6, 1933, pp. 521-624. 271

Blaeksrur, Richard P., "The Failure of Henry Adame," Hound and Horn. IV (1931), 440-446.

, "The Expense of Greatnessi Three Baphases on Henry Adams," Virginia Quarterly Review, XII (1936), 396-416*

. "Henry and Brooks Adamst Parallels to Two Generations," Southern ReTlew, V (1939), 308-334.

, "Henry Adamsi Three late Moments," Kenyon ReTlew, II (1940), 7-29,

, "The Hov-els of Henry Adams," Sewanee Review, Li (1943), 281-304.

, "The Harmony of True Liberalism* Henry Adams1 Mont-Saint- Miohel and Chartres," Sewanee Review, LX (1962), 1-27.

, "The Atlantio Unities," Hudson Review, V (1962), 212-232.

Blunt, H. F., "The Mal-Education of Henry Admns," Catholic Tforld. CX1V (1937), 46-52.

Bradford, Gamaliel, "Henry Adams," Atlantio Monthly. CXXV (1928), 623-634.

Brooks, Van Wyok, "The Miseduoation of Henry Adeem," Sketohes In Criticism ^New York, 1932), pp. 197-210.

Cargill, Osoar, "The Medievalism of Henry Adams," Essays and Studies In Honor of Carleton Brown (Hew York, 1940), pp. 294-529.

Chanler, Margaret, "Theodore Roosevelt's Washington," Atlantic Monthly, CLXV (1934), 319-329.

Coaanager, Henry Steele, "Henry Adams," South Atlantic Q.uarterly, XXVI (1927), 252-266.

, "Henry Adams, Prophet of Our Disjointed World," Mew York Times Magasins, February 20, 1938, pp. 11, 22.

, "Henry Adams," The Marcus W. Jprnegan Essays in Amerioan Historiography (Chicago, 1937), pp. 191-2067

Creek, H. L., "The Medievalism of Henry Adams," South Atlantic Quarterly. XXIV (1925), 86-97. 272

Delaney, Seldon Peabody, A Man of Mystery," North Amerioan Review, CCXVI (1922), 694-704.

Dickason, D. H., "Henry Adams and Clarence King* The Record of a Friendship," New England Quarterly. XVII (1944), 229-254.

Edwards, Herbert, "The Prophetic Mind of Henry Adams," College English. IIT (1942), 708-721.

______, "Henry Adamsi Politician and Statesman," New England Quarterly. XXII (1949), 46-60.

Ford, Worthington C., "Henry Adams, Historian," Nation. June 8, 1918, pp. 674-675.

Frwwen, Moreton, "The Autobiography of Henry Adame," Nineteenth Century. IXXXV (1919), 981-989.

Gabriel, Ralph Henry, "Frederlok Jackson Turner vs. Henry Adams," The Course of American Democratic Though, (New York, 1940), 251-268.

Glioksberg, Charles I., "Henry Adams and the Aesthetic Quest," Prairie Sohoomer. XXV (1951), 241-250.

, "Henry Adana and the Modern Spirit," Dalhousle Review, XXVII (1947), 299-509.

Greenleaf, Richard, "History, Marxism, and Henry Adams," Science and Society^ XV (1951), 195-208.

Hess, M. Whitcomb, "The Atomic Age and Henry Adams," Catholic Vforld, CLXXII (1951), 256-263.

Howe, M. A. DeWolfe, "The Elusive Henry Adams," Saturday Review of Literature. Ootober 18, 1950, pp. 257-259.

Hume, Robert Arthur, "The Education of H*nry Adams* A Critical Estimate" (Unpublished dissertation, Cornell, 1940).

, "Hostage to Henry Adams," Pacific Spectator, II (1948). 299-507.

, Runaway Star* An Appreciation of Henry Adams (ithaoa, K.tf., 196T7T

Jordy, William H.. "Henry Adams and Walt Whitman," South Atlantic Quarterly. XL (1941), 152-145. 278

Jordy, Will lam H., "Henry Adams and Francis Parkman," American Quarterly, III (1951), 52-68.

, Henry Adamst Scientific Historian (New Haven, Conn., — rmr. ------

Kronenberger, Louis, "The Education of Henry Adams' The Sixth of the Books that Changed Our Minds," New Republic, Maroh 15, 1939, pp. 155-158.

LaFarge, Mabel, "Henry Adame," The Coasnonweal, May 19, 1933, pp. 74-75.

LaFollette, Suzanne, "Henry Adame's Wife," New Republic, December 30, 1936, p. 278.

Laufhlin, James Laurenoe, "Some Recollections of Henry Adams," Sorlbner's Magazine, LXIX (1921), 576-585.

LeBreton, Maurice, "Henry Adame et la France," Harvard et la France (Paris, 1936), pp. 74-96.

LeClair, Robert Charles, Three American Travellers in England* James Russell Lowell, Henry Aden s. Henry James (Ffoiladelphla, 1945).

Lydenberg, John, "Henry Adams and Lincoln Steffens," 3outh Atlantic Quarterly, XLVIII (1949), 42-64.

MacDonald, William, "Henry Adams," Anorlcsp Writers on Amerioan Litera­ ture, ed. John Maoy (New York, 1931), pp. 317-326.

Meyer, Andrew Greer, "Henry Adams, Historian" (Unpublished disserta­ tion, New York, 1948).

Miller, Richard F«, "Henry Adams and the Influenoe of Woman," American Llberaturc, XVIII (1947), 291-298.

Mitchell, Stewart, "Letters of Henry Adams, 185B-1P91," New England Quarterly, IV (1931), 663-568.

More, Paul Elmer, "Henry Adams," Unpopular Review, X (1918), 255-272.

Neufield, Maurice F., "The Crisis in Prospeot," American Scholar, *V (1935), 397-408.

Nichols, Roy F., "The Dynamic Interpretation of History," New England Quarterly. VIII (1936), 163-178.

Pope-Hennessy, James, Monokton Milnes, The Flight of Youthi 1851-1885 (London, 1961). 274

Quinlivan, Frances, "Irregularities of the Mental Mirror," Catholio World, C U n i l (1946), 66-65.

Roelofs, Gerrit H., "Henry Adamsi Pm si mi am and the Intellirent Use of Doom," BLH. XVII (1950), 214-239.

Rukeyser, Muriel, "Tendencies in History," Willard Gibbs (New York, 1942), pp. 403-428.

Sabine, George H., "Henry and Adams and the Vdriting of History," University of California Chronicles, XXVI (1924), 31-46.

Samuels, Ernest, The Young Henry Adams (Cambridge, Mass., 1946).

Shoemaker, Riohard L., "The France of Henry Adams," French Review. XXI (1948), 292-299.

Shumate, R. V., "The Political Philosophy of Henry Adams," Amorlcan Political Science Review. XXVIII (1934), 599-610.

Simonds, Katharine, "The Tragedy of Mrs. Henry Adams," New ftigland Quarterly, IX (1936), 564-562.

, "Henry Adams and 'Clover'," Saturday Review of Literature. December 5, 1936, p. 11.

, "Living in a Dead forld," Saturday Review of Literature. September 10, 1938, pp. 5-6.

Speare, Morris E., "The Pioneer American Politioal Novel of Henry Adams," The Political Novel (New York, 1924), pp. 287-305.

Spiller, Robert E., "Introduction," gather by Henry A^ams (New York, 1938).

, "Henry Adams t Man of Letters," Saturday Review of Liter­ ature, February 22, 1947, pp. 11-12, 33-34.

Stone, James, "Henry Adams's Philosophy of History," New England Quarterly. XIV (1941), 538-548.

Taylor, Henry Osborn, "The Bduoation of Henry Adams," Atlantio Monthly. CXXII (1918), 484-491.

Taylor, W. R., "Historical Bifocals on the Year 1800," New England Quarterly. XXIII (1950), 172-186.

Trevelyan, George Macaulay, The Life of John Bright (Boston, 1914), pp. 296-327. 276

Vlfiasser, Henry, "The Thought of Henry Adams," Hew England Quarterly, XXIV (1951), 495-509.

Weoter, Dixon, "Harvard Exiles," Virginia Quarterly Review, X (1934), 244-257.

Wilson, Edmund, "A Novel of Henry Adams," New Republic, October 14, 1925, p. 203.

7/hipple, Thomas K., "Henry Adams i First of the Moderns," Nation, April 14, 1926, pp. 408-409.

, "Henry Adans," Spokesmen... (New York, 1928), pp. 23-43.

Winters, Yvor, "Henry Adamsi or the Creation of Confusion," The Anatomy of Nonsense (Norfolk, Conn., 1943), pp. 23-87.

Wright, Nathalie, "Henry Adams's Theory of History: A Puritan Defense," New England Quarterly. XVII] (1945), 204-210.

Zukofsky, Louis, "Henry Adams: A Critioism in Autobiography," Hound and Horn, III (1930), 333-57, 518-530* IV (1930), 46-72.

III. William Dean Howells

A. Primary Material

^Howells, William D e a j ^ , Lereo ^/pseud^*, "The Snigrant of 1802," Ashtabula ^Ohlo^ Sentinel, February 9, March 9, March 30, April 20, 1854. Attribution of all unsigned items (indicated by brackets) is in accordance with Gibson and Arms, A Bibliography of William Dean Howells.

Howells, William Dean and John L. Hayes, Lives and Speeohes of Abraham Lincoln and Hannibal Hem 1in (Columbua,^)hio, I860).

Howells, ’William Dean, "Awaiting His Exequatur," The Hesperian Tree, ed. John J. Platt (Columbus, Ohio, 1903), pp. 425-429. Written in 1861.

, "Venice," Letter of the Secretary of State, Transmitting a Report on the Conroeroial Relations of the United States with Foreign Countries, ft>r the Year Ended September 30, 1862 (Washington. 1863), pp. 376-380. 276

_, "Venice," Letter of the Secretary of Stftt® Transmitting a Report on the Commercial Relatione of the United States with Foreign Countries, for the Year Ended September 30, 1865 (Vfeshington, 1864), pp. 360-362* f ~ 7» "Recent Italian Comedy,' North American Review, XCIX (1864),364-401.

t "Venice," Letter of the Secretary of State, Transmitting a Report on the Conmercial Relations of the United States with Foreir,n Nations, for the Year Ended September 30, 1864 (7fa.shin;;ton, 1865), pp* 462-467.

77 7* "Italian Bri(-anda^;e," North American Review, Cl (1865), 162-189. f ~ 7 . "Our Consuls in China and Klsewhore," Nation, November 2, 1865, pi-'. 551-552.

______, Venetian Life (Boston, 1395). First edition, 1866. r 7. "Ducal Mantua," North American Review, CII (1866), 48-100.

C___ 7. "a Little Oerman Capital," Nation, January 4, 186G, pp. Il­ ls.

7" ______7, "The Question of lionuments ," Atlant jc I/.pnthly, XVII (1866), 646-649.

/ ~ 7 , Review of Goldwin Smith, The Civil VJAr in America, Atlantic Monthly, XVIII (186t), 252-253.

H ___ 7. "Modern Italian Poets," North American Review, Cl 11 (1866), 313-345; CIV (1867), 317-354.

, Italian Journeys (Boston, 1867). r 7, Review o f *i. P. Fetridge, Harper’s Handbook for Travellers.... Atlantic Monthly, XIX (1867), 380-383. —

7 , "Henry ’.Vadsowrth Longfellow,1’ North American Review, CIV (1867), 531-540.

7~ 7> "Mr* Longfellow's Translation of the Divine Comedy," Nation, May 9, 1867, pp. 369-570; June 20, 1867, pp. 492-494. 277

, Roview of Francesco Dali' Ongaro, Stornolll Italian!, Fantasia Drammatiche a Liriche, and Poesie, North American Review, CVI (1868). 126-42.

/~ 7 , "Mo Love Lost: A Romance of Travel," Putnam's ^afazlne, n.s * IT (1868), 641-651,

/ “ ~7, Review of John Lothrop -\iotley, Historic Progress and American Democracy, Atlantic konthl, , XXI II* (1869), 519-520.

7"** /, Review of .V. E. II. Lecky, History of European Morals from Augustus to Charlemagne.... At 1 ant 1 c Llonthiy, XXIV (I860), 639 -644,

7» Review of Sylvester Judd, i\3argaret, Atlantic i~onthly, XXVII (1871), 14-1.

______, Their ’.Yedding Journey (Boston, 1899). First edition, 1872,

"Some Arcadian Shepherds," Atlantic Jv.cnthly, XXIX (1872>, 84-89,

C. _____ 7* R®vi ew of Passages from the French and Italian Notebooks of Nathaniel Hawthorne, Atlantlo Monthly, XXIX (1872), 624-626,

f ~ ______7, "Politics," Atlantic Monthly, XXX (1B72), 127-128.

, "The Florentine Satirist, Giusti," North American Review, CXV“7T872J, iil-47.

, "Niocolini's Anti-papal Tragedy," North American Review, CXV "(1872) , 333-366.

£ 7. "Politics," Atlantic Monthly, XXX (1872), 638-640.

______, A Foregone Conclusion (Boston, 1875/.

7" 7> Review of Henry James, Jr., A Passionate Pilgrim..., Atlantic Monthly. XXXV (1875), 490-494.

, "An Obsolete Fine Gentleman," Atlantic Monthly, XXXYI (1875/, 98-106.

______, "Carlo Goldoni," Atlantic Monthly, XL (1877), 601-613.

The Lady of the Aroostook (Boston, 1921). First edition. 1873 .

£___ 7. "Dickens's Letters," Atlantic Monthly, XLV (1880), 280-282. 278

/"~ 7* "James's Hawthorne," Atlantic Monthly, XLV (1880), 282-284<

______, A Fearful ReaponalbllIty (Boston, 1881).

, A Modern Instance (Boston, 1909). First edition, 1882.

, A Woman's Reason (Boston, 1383).

, The Rise of Silas Lapham (Boston, 1884).

______, Tuscan Cities (Boston, 1885).

j Indian Summer (Boston, 1914). First edition, 1886.

. The Minister's Charge; or, The Apprenticeship of Lemuel Barker (Boston, 1887).

, Annie Kllburnt A Novel (New York, 1885).

^ 7 » Review of Mj*s. Fannie Chambers Gooch, Faoe to Face with the Mexicans, Harper's New Monthly Magazine. LXXVIII (1889), 319-322,

, A Hazard of New Fortunes (New York, 1390).

______, Crltlolan and Fiction (New York, 1891).

, An Imperative Duty (Now York, 1892).

, A Little Swiss Sojourn (Now York, 1892).

, The Coast of Bohemia (New York, 1893).

______, The World of Chance (New York, 1693).

, A Traveler from Altruria (New York, 1894).

, Stops of Various Quills (New York, 1895).

, My Literary Passions (New York, 1895).

, "Equality as the Basis of Good Society," Century, Li (1895), 63-67.

______, "The Nature of Liberty," Forum, XX (1895), 401-409.

_, Impressions and Experiences (New York, 1896). 279

, "Life and Letters, Our Spanish Prisoner# at Portsmouth," Harperrs Weekly, August 20, 1898, pp. 826-827.

, Ragged Lady? A Kovel (llew York, 1890).

, "The New Poetry," North American Review, CLXVIII (1899), 581-692.

, Literary Friends and Aoguantance (New York, 1900).

, "An Earlier American," North American Review, CLXXII (1901), 934-944.

, The Kentons (New York, 1902.

7 , "The Militant Muse,"" Harper's /weekly, January 18, 1902, p • 69 •

"A Fatal Ignorance of Liberty," Harper*s Weekly, March 1 5, 1902, p. 325.

/ ~ ______f, "Race-Patriotisia," Harper's Vfeekly, May 10, 1902, p. 586.

/“______y, "Philippine Casuistry," Harper1 s iHeekly, June 7, 1902, p. 715.

C ______7. "A Suggestion from the Boer War," Harper* s Weekly, June 14, 1902, p. 747. f ~ y 9 "Without Our Special Wonder," Harper*s Weekly, June 28, 1902, p. 811.

______, London Films (New York, 1906).

, Certain Delightful English Towns, with Glimpses of the pleasant Country Between (New York, 1906).

, Through the Eye of the Needle (New York, 1907).

, Roman Holidays and Others, (New York, 1908).

, Seven English Cities (New York, 1909).

, Familiar Spanish Travels (New York, 1913).

, Years of My Youth (New York, 1916).

, "Overland to Venice," Harper1s Monthly, CXXXVII (1918), 837-845. 280

Howells, Willian Dean, "An Old Venetian Friend," Harper’s Monthly, CXXXVI11 (1919), 634-640.

, "A Young Venetian Friend," Harper’s Monthly, CXXXVII (1919),' 827 -833.

, Life in Letters of William Dean Howells, ed. Mildred Howells, 2 rols. (New York, 1928).

B. Seoondary Material

Arms, George .V.,"Furt-er Inquiry into Howells's Sooialisn," Soienoe and Society. Ill (1939), 245-248.

, "The Literary Background of Howells's Social Criticism," American Literature, XIV (1942), 260-276.

and William M. Gibson, "'Silas Lapham,' 'Daisy Miller' and the Jews," Mew Bngland Quarterly, XVI (1943), 118-122,

, "Howells' New Y0rk Novel," New ^gland Quarterly, XXI (i948), 313-325.

Austin, James C., "William Dean Howslls," Fields of the Atlantic Monthlyi Letters to an Editor. 1861-1870 (San Marino, Calif., 1953), pp. 139-163.

Bass, Arthur L., "The Social Consciousness of William Dean Howells," New Republic, April 13, 1921, pp. 92-194.

Beloher, H. G., "Howells's Opinions on the Religious Conflicts of His Age as Exhibited in Magazine Articles," American Literature, XV (1943), 262-278.

Boyesen, H. H., "Real Conversations— a Dialogue Between William Dean Howells and HJalmar Hjorth Boyesen," McClure'a, I (1893), 3-11.

Brooks, Van iVyok, New Englandi Indian Sumner (New York, 1940), pp. 204- 249i 373-394.

Budd, Louis J», "William Dean Howells's Debt to Tolstoy," Amerloan Slavio and gast European Review, IX (1950), 292-301,

, "Howells, The Atlantlo Monthly, and Republicanism," American Literature. XXTV (1962), 139-156. 261

Cady, Edwin Harrison, "The Gentleman as Socialist* 7ft111am Dean Howells," The Gentleman in America* A Literary Study In American Culture (Syracuse, N.Y., 1949), pp. 184-205.

, "William Dean Howells and the Ashtabula Sentinel,” Ohio State Archeological and Historical Quarterly, LIII (1944), 30-51.

______, "A Note on Howells and 'The Smiling Aspects of Life'," American Literature, XVII (1945), 175-178.

, "W.D. Howells in Italy* Some Bibliographical Notes," Symposium, VII (1953), 147-153.

Carter, Everett S., "The Palpitating Divan," English Journal, XXXIX (1950), 237-242.

, "Vftlliam Dean Howells' Theory o f Critical Realism," BLH. XVI (1949), 151-166.

Ekstrom, William F., "The Equalitari&n Prinoiple in the Fiction of Vftlliam Dean Howells,11 American Literature. XXIV (1952), 40-50.

Firlcins, Osoar W., William Dean Howells % A Study (Cambridge, Mass., 1924).

Fox, Arnold B., "Howells' Doctrine of Complicity," Modern Language Quarterly, XIII (1952), 56-60.

Getzels, J. W,, "Vftlliam Dean Howells and Socialism," Science and Society, II (1936), 376-386.

Gibson, William M., "Twain and Howellsi Anti-Imperialists," Hew England Quarterly, XX (1947), 435-470.

and George Arms, comps., A Bibliography of Vftlliam Dean Howells (New York, 1948).

Harvey, Alexander, William Dean Howells* A Study of the Achievement of a Literary Artist (New York, 1917).

Kar Annette, "Archetypes of American Innooencet Lydia Blood and Daisy Miller," Arnerlcan Quarterly, V (1953), 31-38.

Lowell, James Russell, Review of Venetian Life, Hprth American Review. CIII (1866), 610-613. 262

Larston, F. C., Jr., "The Early Life of William Doan Howells, a Chronicle, 1837-1871" (Unpublished dissertation, Brown, 1944).

, "An Early Howells Letter,” American Literature, XVIII (1946), 163-164.

Morby, Edwin S., "William Dean Howells and Spain," Hispanic Review, Xrv (1946), 187-212.

Orr, A., "International Novelists and Mr. Howells," Livinr Age, CXLV (1880), 599-615.

Parks, Edd Winfield, "A Realist Avoids Reality* W. D, Howells and the Civil War Years," South Atlantic Quarterly, LIT (19 53), 93-97,

Richardson, L. N., "Mon of Letters and the Hayes Administration," New England Quarterly, XV (1942), 117-127.

"Smiling Aspects of Life," Timas Literary Supplement, October 9, 1948, p • 5 68•

Smith, Bernard, "Howellst the Genteel Radical," Saturday Review of Literature, August 11, 1934, pp. 41-42.

Stiles, Uarion Lumpkin, "Travel in the Life and Writings of William Dean Howells" (Unpublished dissertation, Texas, 1947).

Taylor, Walter Fuller, "VYllliam Dean Howells and the Economic Novel," American Literature, IV (1932), 103-113.

, "William Dean Howells* Artist and American," Sewanee Review. XL VI (1938), 2 88-303.

, "On the Origin of Howells' Interest in Economic Reform," American Literature, II (1930), 3-14.

, "William Dean Howells," The Boonomlc Hovel in America (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1942), pp. 214-281.

Underwood, John C., "William Dean Howells and Altruria," Literature and Insurgency (New York, 1914), pp. 87-129.

Ward, John W., "Another Howells Anarchist Letter," American Literature, XXII (1951), 489-490.

Wister, Owen, "William Dean Howells," Atlantic Monthly. CLX (1937), 704-713. 285

Woodress, James L., Jr., "Howells's Venetian Priest," Modern Language Notes. LXVI (1951), 26 6-267.

, Howells and Italy (Durham, N.C., 1952).

Wright, Conrad, "The Sources of Mr. Howells's Socialism," Science and Society. II (1938), 514-517.

IV. Marie Twain

A. Primary Material

Clemens, Samuel Lan~horne, The Adventures of Thomas Jefferson Snodgrass, ed. Charles Honce (Chicago, 1928).

, Marie Twain's Letters in the Muscatine Journal, ed. Edgar M. Branoh (Chicago, 1942).

______, The >tashoe Giant in San Francisco, e d . Franklin Walker (San Franoisoo, 1930).

. Letters from the Sandwich Islands Written for the Sacramento Union by Mark Twain, ed. G. Ezra Dane (Stanford University, Calif., 1937).

, Mark Twain's Travels with Mr. Brown..., e d . Franklin ,’felker and G. Esra Dane (New York, 1940).

, The Love Letters of Mark Twain, ed. Dixon Vfeoter (New York* 1949).

, The Innocents Abroad, or The New Pilgrims1 Progress; ...by Mark*Twain (Hartford, Conn., 1869).

, Mark Twain to Mrs. Fairbanks, ed. Dixon Yfooter (San Marino, Calif., 1949).

, The Writings of Mark Twain. Stormfield Edition, ed. Albert Bigelow Paine (New York, 1929). The following thirteen titles were used In this edition; dates given indicate first book publica­ tion.

, Roughing It (1872).

and Charles Dudley Warner, The Gilded Age (1873).

, A Tramp Abroad (1880). 264

Clemens, Samuel Sanghorne, The Prince and the Pauper (18F2)

, Life on the Mississippi (1883).

, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (18E5).

9 so wvuuvw vavu v a i i a o o a ii #U v n u f 9 vva* v v *w

9 The American Claimant (1892). r . .. ;7, Personal Recollections of Joan of Arc (1896).

9 Following the Equator (1897).

9 What Is Man? and Other Essays (1917).

9 Europe and Elsewhere (1923).

* In Defense cf Harriet Shelley and Other Essays

9 Mark Twain’s Speeches, ed. Albert Bigelow Paine 1910).

9 Mark Twain's Letters, Arranged with Comment, ed

, Mark Twain's Autobiography, ed. Albert Bigelow Paine, 2 vols (New York, 1924).

, Mark Twain's Notebook, ed. Albert Bigelow Paine (New York, 1935),

, Mark Twain in Eruption! Hitherto Unpublished Pages about Mon and Brents, ed. Bernard DeVoto iNew York, 19407.

B. Secondary Material

Altick, Richard D., "Mark Twain's Despair* An Explanation in T©rms of His Humanity," South Atlantic Quarterly, XXNIV (1935), 359-367.

Bellamy, Oladys Carmen, Mark Twain as a Literary Artist (Norman, Okla., 1950).

Benson, Ivan, Mark Twain's .Vostern Years (Stanford University, Calif., 1938).

Blair, Walter, "Mark Twain, New York Correspondent," American Literature, XI (1939), 247-269. 285

Blair, waiter, Horse Sense in American Humor (Chicago, 1942),

, Native American Humor (New York, 1937),

Booth, Bradford A., "liark Twain1 s Friendship with l&nellne Beach,” American Literature, XIX (1947), 219-230.

Branch, Edgar M., The Literary Apprenticeship of Mark Twain (Urbana, 111., I960).

Bras hear, Minnie M., Mark Twain* Son of Missouri (Chapel Hill, N.Ce 1934).

"Britannicua," "England and Mark Twair," North American Review, CXCI (1910), 822-e26.

Brooks, Van Wyok, The Ordeal o f Mark Twain, revised ed. (New York, 1933), First edition, 1S20.

^Trowne, Charles Farrar^* Art emus .Yard in London (New York, 1867),

Burnam, Tom, "Mark Twain and the Paige Typesetter* A Background for Despair," Western Humanities Review, VI (1951), 29-36,

DeVoto, Bernard, "Mark Twain about the Jews," Jewish Frontier Anthology* 1 9 3 4 - 1 9 4 4 (New York, 1945), pp. 177-181.

, Mark Twain*s America (bostoi, 1932).

, Mark Twain at Work (Csunbridge, Mesa., 1942).

Diokinson, Leon T., "Mark Twain's 'Innocents Abroad'* Its Origin, Composition, and Popularity" (Unpublished dissertation, Chicago, 1945).

, "Marie Twain's Revisions in Writing The Innocents Abroad,” American Literature, XIX (1947), 139-157.

, "The Sources of The Prince and the Pauper.” M o d e m Language Notes, IXIV (1949), 103-106.

Dreiser, Theodore, "Mark the Double Twain," English Journal, XXIV (1935), 615-627.

Fairbanks, Mary M., "The Cruise of the 'Quaker City*,” Chautauquan, XIV (1892), 429-432.

Ferguson, John DeLancey, Mark Twain* Man and Legand (Indianapolis, 1943).

Frear, 7(slter Francis, Mark Twain and Hawaii (Chicago, 1946). 286

Gibson, William >' ., "Mark Twain and Ho’veils t Anti-Imperial ists, " Mew England Quarterly, XX (1947), 435-470.

Hessninghaus, Bdgar K., "Mark Twain's German Provenience," Modern Language Quarterly, VI (1945), 459-478.

Hillard, George Stillman, Six Months In Italy (Boston, 1876).

Howells, -oilliam Dean, Ify Mark Twain* Reminiscenoes and Criticisms (New York, 1910).

Klett, Ada M., "Meisterschaft, or The True State of Mark Twain's German," American-German Review, VII (1941), 10-11.

Lederer, Max, "Mark Twain in Vienna," iJark Twain Quarterly, VI1 (1945), 1- 12.

Lcrch, Fred "'Doeaticks* and Innocents Abroad," American Litera­ ture, XX (1948), 446-449.

McCloskey, John C., "Mark Twain as Critic in The Innocents Abroad," Amerlcan Literature, XXV (1953), 139-151.

MoKeithan, D. M., "Mark Twain's Letters of Thomas Jefferson Snodgrass," Philological Quarterly, XXXII (1953), 353-365.

Heine, Franklin J., Tall Tales of the Southwest (New York, 1946).

Moore, Olin Harris, "Mark Twain and Don Quixote," PMLA, XXXVTI (1922), 324-346.

Orlans, G. Harrison, "Walter Soott, Mark Twain, and the Civil War," South Atlantic Quarterly. XL (1941), 342-359.

Paine, Albert Bigelow, Mark Twain, A Biography, 3 vols. (New York, 1912).

Prime, .Villiam C., Tent Life in the Holy Land (New York, 1857).

Roades, Sister M. T., "Don Quixote and A Connecticut In King Arthur's Court," Mark Twain Quarterly, II (1938), 8-9.

Rourke, Constance, American Humor* A Study of the National Character (New York, 1926).

Scott, Arthur L., "The Innocents Abroad R«valuated," .Jestern Humanities Review. VII (1953), 215-223. 287

Scott, Arthur L., "Mark T w i n as a Critic of Europe" (Unpublished dissertation, Michigan, 1948),

, "Mark Twain's Revisions of The Innocents Abroad for the British Edition of 1872," Amerioan Literature, XXV (1953), 43-61.

Schmidt, Paul, "Mark Twain's Satire on Republicanism," American Quarterly, V (1953), 344-356.

Sherman, Stewart P., "The Demooracy of Mark Twain," On Contemporary Literature (New York, 1917), pp. 18-49.

Stewart, Herbert L., "Mark Twain on the Jewish Problem," Dalhousle Reyiew, XIV (1934), 455-458.

Taylor, Walter Fuller, "Mark Twain," The Eoonomio Novel in America (Chapel Hill, N.C., 1942), pp. 116^.47.

______, "Mark Twain suid the Machine Ac©," South Atlantic Quarterly. XXXVIT (1938), 384-389.

______, "That Gilded Ace," Sewanee Review, XLV (1937), 41-54.

Underwood, John C., "Democracy Mark Twain," Literature and Insurgency (New York, 1914), pp. 1-40•

Vogelbaok, Arthur L., "Mark Twain* Newspaper Contributor," American Literature, VIII (1937), 357-370.

Waggoner, Hyatt Howe, "Science in the Thought of Mark Twain," American Literature. VIII (1937), 357-370.

'Weoter, Dixon, "Mark Twain as Translator from the German," American Literature, XIII (1941), 257-263.

, Sam Clemens of Hannibal (Eoston, 1952).

Wuliger, Robert, "Mark Twain on King Leopold's Soliloquy," American Literature, XXV (1953), 234-237. jess

AUTOBIOGRAPHY

I* August Lynn Altenbernd, was born in Cleveland* Ohio#

February 3* 1918, I received my secondary school education in the public schools of the city of Cleveland* Ohio* Ify undergraduate training was obtained at The Ohio State University* from which I re* oelved the degree Baohelor of Solenoe in Education In 1939* From

1942 to 1944 I taught English at the John Bryan High Sohool* Yellow

Springs* Ohio* and from 1944 to 1946 served in the Army of the United

States* From The Ohio State University 1 reoeived the degree Master of Arts in 1949* From 1949 to 1951 1 taught English part time at The

Ohio State University while working toward the degree Doctor of

Philosophy* From 1951 to 1954 I served as full-time instructor in

English at The Ohio State University while completing requirements for the doctoral degree*