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The White Mr。 Longfellow
by William Dean Howells
We had expected to stay in Boston only until we could find a house in Old
Cambridge。 This was not so simple a matter as it might seem； for the
ancient town had not yet quickened its scholarly pace to the modern step。
Indeed； in the spring of 1866 the impulse of expansion was not yet
visibly felt anywhere； the enormous material growth that followed the
civil war had not yet begun。 In Cambridge the houses to be let were few；
and such as there were fell either below our pride or rose above our
purse。 I wish I might tell how at last we bought a house； we had no
money； but we were rich in friends； who are still alive to shrink from
the story of their constant faith in a financial future which we
sometimes doubted； and who backed their credulity with their credit。
It is sufficient for the present record； which professes to be strictly
literary； to notify the fact that on the first day of May； 1866； we went
out to Cambridge and began to live in a house which we owned in fee if
not in deed； and which was none the less valuable for being covered with
mortgages。 Physically； it was a carpenter's box； of a sort which is
readily imagined by the Anglo…American genius for ugliness； but which it
is not so easy to impart a just conception of。 A trim hedge of arbor…
vita； tried to hide it from the world in front； and a tall board fence
behind； the little lot was well planted （perhaps too well planted） with
pears； grapes； and currants； and there was a small open space which I
lost no time in digging up for a kitchen…garden。 On one side of us were
the open fields； on the other a brief line of neighbor…houses； across the
street before us was a grove of stately oaks； which I never could
persuade Aldrich had painted leaves on them in the fall。 We were really
in a poor suburb of a suburb； but such is the fascination of ownership；
even the ownership of a fully mortgaged property； that we calculated the
latitude and longitude of the whole earth from the spot we called ours。
In our walks about Cambridge we saw other places where we might have been
willing to live； only； we said； they were too far off： We even prized the
architecture of our little box； though we had but so lately lived in a
Gothic palace on the Grand Canal in Venice； and were not uncritical of
beauty in the possessions of others。 Positive beauty we could not have
honestly said we thought our cottage had as a whole； though we might have
held out for something of the kind in the brackets of turned wood under
its eaves。 But we were richly content with it； and with life in
Cambridge； as it began to open itself to us； we were infinitely more than
content。 This life； so refined； so intelligent； so gracefully simple； I
do not suppose has anywhere else had its parallel。
I。
It was the moment before the old American customs had been changed by
European influences among people of easier circumstances； and in
Cambridge society kept what was best of its village traditions； and chose
to keep them in the full knowledge of different things。 Nearly every one
had been abroad； and nearly every one had acquired the taste for olives
without losing a relish for native sauces； through the intellectual life
there was an entire democracy； and I do not believe that since the
capitalistic era began there was ever a community in which money counted
for less。 There was little show of what money could buy； I remember but
one private carriage （naturally； a publisher's）； and there was not one
livery； except a livery in the larger sense kept by the stableman Pike；
who made us pay now a quarter and now a half dollar for a seat in his
carriages； according as he lost or gathered courage for the charge。 We
thought him extortionate； and we mostly walked through snow and mud of
amazing depth and thickness。
The reader will imagine how acceptable this circumstance was to a young
literary man beginning life with a fully mortgaged house and a salary of
untried elasticity。 If there were distinctions made in Cambridge they
were not against literature； and we found ourselves in the midst of a
charming society； indifferent； apparently； to all questions but those of
the higher education which comes so largely by nature。 That is to say；
in the Cambridge of that day （and； I dare say； of this） a mind cultivated
in some sort was essential； and after that came civil manners； and the
willingness and ability to be agreeable and interesting； but the question
of riches or poverty did not enter。 Even the question of family； which
is of so great concern in New England； was in abeyance。 Perhaps it was
taken for granted that every one in Old Cambridge society must be of good
family； or he could not be there； perhaps his mere residence tacitly
ennobled him； certainly his acceptance was an informal patent of
gentility。 To my mind； the structure of society was almost ideal； and
until we have a perfectly socialized condition of things I do not believe
we shall ever have a more perfect society。 The instincts which governed
it were not such as can arise from the sordid competition of interests；
they flowed from a devotion to letters； and from a self…sacrifice in
material things which I can give no better notion of than by saying that
the outlay of the richest college magnate seemed to be graduated to the
income of the poorest。
In those days； the men whose names have given splendor to Cambridge were
still living there。 I shall forget some of them in the alphabetical
enumeration of Louis Agassiz； Francis J。 Child； Richard Henry Dana； Jun。；
John Fiske； Dr。 Asa Gray； the family of the Jameses； father and sons；
Lowell； Longfellow； Charles Eliot Norton； Dr。 John G。 Palfrey； James
Pierce； Dr。 Peabody； Professor Parsons； Professor Sophocles。 The variety
of talents and of achievements was indeed so great that Mr。 Bret Harte；
when fresh from his Pacific slope； justly said； after listening to a
partial rehearsal of them； 〃Why； you couldn't fire a revolver from your
front porch anywhere without bringing down a two…volumer！〃 Everybody had
written a book； or an article； or a poem； or was in the process or
expectation of doing it； and doubtless those whose names escape me will
have greater difficulty in eluding fame。 These kindly； these gifted folk
each came to see us and to make us at home among them； and my home is
still among them； on this side and on that side of the line between the
living and the dead which invisibly passes through all the streets of the
cities of men。
II。
We had the whole summer for the exploration of Cambridge before society
returned from the mountains and the sea…shore； and it was not till
October that I saw Longfellow。 I heard again； as I heard when I first
came to Boston； that he was at Nahant； and though Nahant was no longer so
far away； now； as it was then； I did not think of seeking him out even
when we went for a day to explore that coast during the summer。 It seems
strange that I cannot recall just when and where I saw him； but early
after his return to Cambridge I had a message from him asking me to come
to a meeting of the Dante Club at Craigie House。
Longfellow was that winter （1866…7） revising his translation of the
'Paradiso'； and the Dante Club was the circle of Italianate friends and
scholars whom he invited to follow him and criticise his work from the
original； while he read his version aloud。 Those who were most
constantly present were Lowell and Professor Norton； but from time to
time others came in； and we seldom sat down at the nine…o'clock supper
that followed the reading of the canto in less number than ten or twelve。
The criticism； especially from the accomplished Danteists I have named；
was frank and frequent。 I believe they neither of them quite agreed with
Longfellow as to the form of version he had chosen； but； waiving that；
the question was how perfectly he had done his work upon the given lines：
I myself； with whatever right； great or little； I may have to an opinion；
believe thoroughly in Longfellow's plan。 When I read his version my
sense aches for the rhyme which he rejected； but my admiration for his
fidelity to Dante otherwise is immeasurable。 I remember with equal
admiration the subtle and sympathetic scholarship of his critics； who
scrutinized every shade of meaning in a word or phrase that gave them
pause； and did not let it pass till all the reasons and facts had been
considered。 Sometimes； and even often； Longfellow yielded to their
censure； but for the most part； when he was of another mind； he held to
his mind； and the passage had to go as he said。 I make a little haste to
say that in all the meetings of the Club； during a whole winter of
Wednesday evenings； I myself； though I faithfully followed in an Italian
Dante with the rest； ventured upon one suggestion only。 This was kindly；
even seriously； considered by the poet； and gently rejected。 He could
not do anything otherwise than gently； and I was not suffered to feel
that I had done a presumptuous thing。 I can see him now； as he looked up
from the proof…sheets on the round table before him； and over a