Park Benjamin: Poet & Editor 9780231887724

Presents the life story of Park Benjamin from his early manhood in Boston where he was the editor of New England Magazin

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Table of contents :
Introduction
Contents
Illustrations
Chapter I. Ancestry and Youth
Chapter II. Early Literary Efforts
Chapter III. The New-England Magazine
Chapter IV. In New York, 1836–1840
Chapter V. The Newspaper Editor, 1839–1841
Chapter VI. The New World, 1839–1845
Chapter VII. In Grub Street, 1845–1850
Chapter VIII. The Lecturer, 1849-1864
Chapter IX. An Estimate
Appendix
Selected Bibliography
Index
Recommend Papers

Park Benjamin: Poet & Editor
 9780231887724

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PARK

BENJAMIN

P A R K B E N J A M I N A S A YOUNG M A N F R O M A PORTRAIT BY CHESTER HARDING

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C O P Y R I G H T 1948 UNIVERSITY PRESS,

NEW

YORK

Published in Great Britain and India by Geoffrey Cumberlege, Oxford University Press, London and Bombay

MANUFACTURED

IN

THE

UNITED

STATES

OF

AMERICA

TO

WILLIAM EVARTS BENJAMIN WHOSE THIS

ADVICE BOOK

AND

GENEROSITY

POSSIBLE, BOOK WAS

AND

FOR

WRITTEN

HAVE WHOM

MADE THIS

INTRODUCTION

T

story of P a r k Benjamin, poet and editor, has considerable significance in itself. As a young man he was p a r t of the Boston g r o u p around Oliver Wendell Holmes when the flowering of New England was in the bud. Here he began to develop a poetical talent t h a t promised much. H e might have become a poet of distinction if destiny had permitted him to enjoy a life of freedom and leisure. But he turned to the E d i t o r ' s chair and so changed the p a t t e r n of his life. H e became instead an editor of influence and power. D u r i n g his early manhood in New England he was editor of the New-England Magazine, the chief forerunner in New E n g land of the Atlantic Monthly. Removing to New York, he became successively editor of the American Monthly Magazine and literary editor of H o r a c e Greeley's New-Yorker. Then, s t a r t i n g out f o r himself in the venture t h a t was to make him famous, he established the New World, the most widely known semiliterary weekly of the early 1840s. T h e New World became noted for its crusade to popularize good literature, both native and foreign, in this country, and its editor became one of the most influential and most picturesque figures of his day. But, in so doing, he became more than a recognized editor: he became symbol of a period. The years 1835—1860, in New York, cover what is frequently termed the L a t e r Knickerbocker Period. Compared with t h a t of the earlier Knickerbockers, it was not a great literary period. The g r o u p around Washington Irving had broken up ; some had died, and the leading survivors had gone each his own way. The chief writers in New York of the quarter-century before the Civil W a r were of minor merit. HE LIFE

[ vii ]

INTRODUCTION

B u t those same years in New York formed a significant j o u r n a l istic period. During the 1840s the American newspaper really found itself and defined its policies. Likewise the magazine developed into what was to be one of the special discoveries of American literature. And between newspaper and magazine arose the semiliterary weekly, of which New York has produced a notable succession. I n the stress of evolution competition was keen and only the fit survived. Personal a t t a c k and counterattack were p a r t of the accepted code. Only the editor of courage and colorful personality could survive. I n all of this journalistic warfare P a r k Benjamin played a notable p a r t ; no other editor is so typical, so symbolical. Of a sanguine, aggressive nature, he ventured boldly and strove with persistent effort. W i t h an excellent academic and scholarly training he combined a fearlessness t h a t won him respect and fame as a critic. He had a wide circle of literary and editorial acquaintances and was tangent to all the literary and editorial interests of his time. H e entered into the competition of the time with keen zest. Caustic and cutting in his comments, he was in continual controversy, and he enjoyed nothing better. Of no other editor of those years in New York could it be more t r u l y said t h a t he was a p a r t of all t h a t he met. I n his later life he became a Lyceum lecturer of some note. T h r o u g h o u t his life he produced a considerable body of verse, the quantity and quality varying with the pressure of his active editorial life. His verse, especially his carefully wrought sonnets, deserves more recognition than has been generally granted. H e was a minor poet but a minor poet of notable range and facility. I n his verse we naturally come closer to the man himself ; but it was as editor t h a t his colorful, magnetic personality expressed itself. T h r o u g h o u t his life his ruling passion was to advance the literature of America ; it was as editor, therefore, t h a t his life reached its fulfillment.

[ viii ]

INTRODUCTION

The gathering of the material for this study would have been impossible without the assistance of many librarians; and the author wishes to acknowledge the special assistance of the librarians of the L i b r a r y of Congress, of the American Antiquarian Society, of the Boston Public Library, of the Boston Athenaeum, of H a r v a r d University Library, of the Massachusetts Historical Society, of Brown University L i b r a r y , of the Connecticut Historical Society, of T r i n i t y College L i b r a r y , of Yale University L i b r a r y , of Columbia University L i b r a r y , of the General Theological Seminary L i b r a r y , of the New York Public L i b r a r y , of the New York Historical Society, of the Newark Public L i b r a r y , of the Pennsylvania Historical Society, of the University of Pennsylvania L i b r a r y , of the Philadelphia Public L i b r a r y , of the Maryland Historical Society, of the Enoch P r a t t Public L i b r a r y , Baltimore, Maryland. Anyone who has availed himself of the kindly courtesy and generous assistance of these librarians knows how inadequate is such acknowledgment of gratitude. The author is especially g r a t e f u l to Professor J a y B. H u b bell, of Duke University, and to Professor Donald L. Clark, of Columbia University, f o r special criticism of the m a n u s c r i p t ; and to his wife f o r her careful editing of the manuscript and its p r e p a r a t i o n for the press. M. M. H . Columbia University New York August, 194-7

[ »*]

CONTENTS I. II.

ANCESTRY AND YOUTH

3

EARLY LITERARY EFFORTS

23

III.

THE NEW-ENGLAND MAGAZINE

44

IV.

IN NEW YORK, 1836-1840

67

THE NEWSPAPER EDITOR, 1839-1841

95

V. VI.

THE NEW WORLD, 1839-1845

119

VII.

IN GRUB STREET, 1845-1850

148

THE LECTURER, 1849-1864

164

AN ESTIMATE

184

APPENDIX

201

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

207

INDEX

213

VIII. IX.

[ **]

ILLUSTRATIONS PARK BENJAMIN AS A YOUNG MAN. FROM A PORTRAIT BY CHESTER HARDING

frontispiece

( O R I G I N A L I N T H E POSSESSION OF H E N R Y ROGERS B E N J A M I N )

HAWTHORNE IN THE NEW-ENGLAND MAGAZINE

62

THE NEW WORLD AND ITS SUBSIDIARIES, 1839-1845

138

THE MOST FAMOUS OF THE NEW WORLD EXTRAS: WHITMAN'S FRANKLIN EVANS

142

"THE OLD SEXTON" AS A POPULAR SONG

154

LINCOLN'S AUTHORIZATION OF BENJAMIN AS HIS BIOGRAPHER

182

[ xiii ]

PARK

BENJAMIN

C H A P T E R

ANCESTRY AND

I

YOUTH

P

ARK B E N J A M I N , poet and editor, was a descendant of one of the original families of New England. J o h n Benjamin (1580P-1645), founder of the family in America, came f r o m Heathfield Parish, Sussex. H e arrived in Boston H a r b o r in the ship " L y o n " on September 16, 1632. Governor W i n t h r o p records the arrival in his J o u r n a l as follows :

16, being the Lords day. In the evening, Mr. Peirce, in the ship Lyon, arrived, and came to an anchor before Boston. He brought one hundred and twenty-three passengers, whereof fifty children, all in health; and [lost] not one person by the way, save his carpenter, who fell overboard as he was caulking a port. They had been twelve weeks aboard, and eight weeks from the Land's End. He had five days east wind and thick fog, so as he was forced to come, all that time, by the lead ; and the first land he made was Cape Ann. 1 W i t h John Benjamin came his wife (born Abigail Eddy, of Cranbrook, K e n t ) , and several children, and his brother Richard. 2 J o h n Benjamin, who was apparently a man of means, settled in Newtown, now Cambridge. 3 Here he purchased six acres of land, upon which he built a house and established his home in America. H e evidently became a person of consequence a t Newtown ; Governor W i n t h r o p always refers to him as " M r . Ben1 John Winthrop, The History of New England from 1630 to 16^9, ed. James Savage (2 vols., Boston, 1825-26), I, 90. 2 For list of the passengers on the "Lyon" see Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society, Fourth Series, I, 94. Also Charles E. Banks, The Planters of the Commonwealth (Boston, 1930), pp. 99-102. sAbiel Holmes, The History of Cambridge (Boston, 1801), p. 10. See also Lucius R. Paige, History of Cambridge, Massachusetts, 1630-1877; with a Genealogical Register (Boston, 1877), especially p. xvi and accompanying map, for the location of John Benjamin's home.

A N C E S T R Y

AND

Y O U T H

j a m i n , " a mark of recognized standing. H e was made freeman soon a f t e r his arrival, on November 6 , 1 6 3 2 , 4 an indication t h a t he was a loyal churchman. On M a y 2 0 , 1 6 3 3 , he was chosen Constable by the General Court. On November 7, 1634, he was exempted f r o m military training "on account of age and infirmity, but was required to have, a t all times, arms f o r himself and servants." 5 Then misfortune redirected his life. On April 7 , 1 6 3 6 , as noted in W i n t h r o p ' s Journal, 6 " M r . Benjamin's house burned, and £100 in goods lost." H e did not rebuild a t Newtown, but removed to Watertown, where he purchased the largest homestall of sixty acres, and f r o m time to time added other holdings. 7 J o h n Benjamin died in Watertown J u n e 14, 1645, leaving a widow and eight children. His will was approved by W i n t h r o p as Deputy Governor. 8 The branch of the B e n j amin family in which we are interested did not linger a t Watertown. 9 J o h n Benjamin's son Joseph (1633—1704) migrated first to Barnstable and to Yarmouth on Cape Cod and then to Preston, Connecticut, across the river f r o m Norwich. Here he purchased one hundred acres of land, "upland, fresh meadow land, and swamp," which he improved. H e thus established a domain which remained in the possession of the Benjamin family, with various partitions and additions, well down into the nineteenth century. Preston and the neighboring town of Norwich became the permanent home of this branch of the family, and in the records of these two localities we may t r a c e the story of the succeeding generations. 4 New England Historical and Genealogical Register (Boston, 1847-19—), III, 91. 5 Henry Bond, Genealogies of the Families and Descendants of the Early Settlers of Watertown, Mass. (Boston, 1855), II, 680. β History of New England, I, 185. 7 Bond, Genealogies, II, 1005; for the location of the John Benjamin holdings see the excellent map appended to this work. 8 New Eng. Hist, and Gen. Reg., I l l , 177. β For a detailed genealogy and genealogical bibliography of John Benjamin, and the line leading to Park Benjamin, see Merle M. Hoover, Genealogy of Park Benjamin (New York, 1948). [·*]

ANCESTRY

AND

Y O U T H

Joseph's son John (1682?—1716) lived on a portion of the family land and improved it. H e died young. His son John ( 1 7 1 4 - 1 7 9 1 ) , in turn, received the old homestead and a double portion of land, all of excellent situation, f o r it was within a quarter-mile of

the " N e w

Church"—the

Second Church

of

Preston. This John Benjamin, it is recorded, manifested a trait that became marked in later Benjamins—a talent f o r business. T o the calling of farmer he added that of "cordwainer," that is, he was a dealer in " c o r d w a i n " or Cordovan leather ; and under his handling the family fortunes rose. T h e fortunes sank, however, with the unfortunate business affairs of his son David (1743—1785), the grandfather of P a r k B e n j a m i n ; the records show that D a v i d was compelled to sell off portions of his land f r o m time to time to satisfy debts. Nevertheless, aside from its unhappy economic aspects, his life was a significant one in the genealogical line. His marriage to L u c y , daughter of Zebulon and Anne Parke, of Preston, allied him with one of the original families of that neighborhood, a family henceforth to be honored by a given name in every succeeding generation

of

Benjamins. During

the Revolutionary

War

D a v i d served in "Cap 4 Bordmans Company Beeing Cald out att two alarums to Defend y e See P o r t s to W i t on y e 7 D a y of August 1775 y® 2 on y e first D a y of Sep tr in y e year 1776."

10

T h e death of this patriot, September 1, 1785, was attended by most unhappy circumstances. His patrimony depleted, he was, at the time of his death, insolvent. Then, seven days a f t e r his death, his wife L u c y died, leaving a family of seven children, the oldest, P a r k , being not quite sixteen years of age. This P a r k Benjamin ( 1 7 6 9 - 1 8 2 4 ) , father of P a r k Benjamin the poet and editor, was born October 5,1769. During his youth he was a ward of his maternal uncle Moses Parke. Thus he was forced, under the pressure of necessity, to begin at an early age a struggle to make his own way in the world. A s early as A p r i l 4,1792, the legal records show, he and his brother E l i j a h leased io Collections of the Connecticut Historical Society, XII (1909), 15.

[*]

AN CESTBY

AND

Y O U T H

from Jonathan Truman, of Preston, some lands and buildings with the privilege of erecting a shoemaker's shop and of sinking vats. The two young brothers were thus attempting to rebuild the fallen family fortunes by following the hereditary trade of dealer in leather. Whether or not Elijah carried on the business for long we do not know ; but Park soon abandoned it to embark on a more remunerative as well as a more romantic trade. For in 1795 he is known as Captain P a r k Benjamin, of the sloop "Prosperity"—an auspicious name—trading between Norwich and Essequibo, in British Guiana, South America. 11 From this point on his life story reads like a romance. He rapidly became one of the most famous of the Norwich sea captains, and the old Norwich Courier contains many a notice of his sailings and adventures. At this time Norwich and the other Sound ports of New England were enjoying that maritime prosperity which followed the close of the Revolutionary War. The Norwich merchants carried on their trade principally with South American ports, and developed a highly profitable enterprise. An agency would be established in a New England port and, from the generous profits of a few voyages, plantations with slave labor would be purchased on the north coast of South America, and an agency formed there. Thus profits would accrue both from exports of American goods to South America and from imports of South American goods to New England. In this way were soon founded those fortunes for which the coast towns of Connecticut became famous. Both Park Benjamin and his brother Moses became interested in this profitable trade, and conducted their undertaking with much success. At Norwich they established an agency, the firm of Kelly and Benj amin ; and at Demerara, British Guiana, they had plantations, with later an agency, that of Bino and Benjamin. Plying between these two ports regularly, they ex" Frances M. Caulkins, History of Norwich, Connecticut (2d ed., Hartford, 1866), p. 495.

[ß]

ANCESTRY

AND

Y O U T H

changed cargoes of cattle, lumber, and flour from New England f o r the sugar, coffee, and rum of Demerara. These voyages, though so profitable, were attended with considerable danger—-"adventures" they were appropriately termed in the daybooks and journals of the time. There were perils of wind and wave. In March, 1796, Captain P a r k in the schooner " N a n c y " lost forty-five mules overboard in a gale of wind; Captain Moses in the schooner "Beaver" lost nineteen horses and two men. 12 There was also peril of robbers. T h e ten j^ears of uninterrupted prosperity directly following the close of the Revolution were succeeded by troubled times, in which neutral American shipping suffered severely from both British and French privateers. On the return from the stormy voyage j u s t mentioned, Captain P a r k , with a cargo valued a t $50,000, was " c a r r i e d " into G r a n a d a , where he was forced to p a y largely to be cleared, and during his detention lost his mate and "all his people" by p u t r i d fever. 1 3 D u r i n g the next year he met a f a t e doubly unfortunate, concerning which the Norwich Courier of J a n u a r y 1 1 , 1 7 9 8 , records this item: The brig Hannah, Park Benjamin of Norwich, was captured by a British Sloop of war, carried into St. Kitts, and acquitted; she then proceeded to St. Martins, where she loaded, and on her passage to this port, was again taken, sent into Tortola, and released. She has since arrived at St. Thomas, which place she was to leave Dec. 15. L a t e r , to afford protection, the vessels sailed in groups under convoy, and frequently were armed. T h u s t r a d e was carried on in what was practically a state of war until the W a r of 1812 stopped all t r a d e with South America. A t the close of this war commerce was restored and the voyages were resumed, with less danger and with continued profit. T h r o u g h this precarious calling both P a r k and Moses Benjamin acquired fortunes t h a t in those days were considered handsome. Plantations of value, worked by slave labor, were owned along the Demerara and Essequibo rivers and operated under 12 Ibid., p. 494. is Ibid., pp. 494-95. [7]

A N C E S T R Y

AND

Y O U T H

the protection of the British Government. Demerara, to be sure, was evidently neither a pleasant nor a healthful place. James Savage, of Boston, visiting in the home of Captain Benjamin in 1819, writes thus to a member of his family : . . . Calcutta may be worse than Demerary, though for some hundred miles all ways there is no land here a foot above high water mark, and all the country is dammed and ditched and diked and canalled, so that it must be moist enough in a dry season, but now being the rainy, is worse.14 I t was here, nevertheless, where he was finding the source of his income, that Captain Benjamin decided to settle and to establish his home. The Norwich Courier of November 4, 1801, contains under the caption "Married" the following item : "At Demerara, Capt. Park Benjamin, formerly of this city, to Miss Polly Gall, of Barbadoes." Her real name was Mary Judith Gall, and she had married Captain Benjamin on August 22, 1801. She was, as we know, a woman of culture and refinement ; family tradition has it that she was a cousin of the governor, Boeckels, and that she was a relative of Lord North of Revolutionary fame. We have many tributes paid to her personal charm and quiet refinement and to the genuine worth of her character. I t was of these parents, and at Demerara, that Park Benjamin was born on August 14, 1809—in that famous birth year of great men. He was the second living son, there being an elder brother, William Christopher Benjamin. Two other children had died in infancy. Captain Benjamin also had a son by a former marriage, of which we know nothing. The childhood of young Park was unhappy notwithstanding the affluence in which it was spent, for he suffered much from illness. In a letter written June 7, 1812, to Mrs. Moses Benjamin at Norwich, his mother says : "My dear Park has been extremely ill, with a violent fever and contraction of his legs and has a great deal of pain in " Letters

[5]

of James Savage to His Family (Boston, 1906), p. 13.

A N C E S T R Y

AND

Y O U T H

them." 15 I n another letter, to Moses Benjamin, April 25, 1813, the f a t h e r states t h a t his son's illness continues. W e do not know the n a t u r e of the disease ; according to family belief it was probably some tropical fever which was improperly treated. The t r a g i c result was permanent lameness, and P a r k Benjamin went through life crippled, with one leg atrophied and shrunken. Captain Benjamin exerted his utmost effort to aid and comf o r t the young invalid. H e finally decided, as he states in this same letter, to send the child either to England or to the home of his brother Moses a t Norwich, in the hope t h a t health might be restored when the boy could live in a more temperate climate. B y June, 1813, plans had been completed to send P a r k to join William Christopher, who was already in America. I n a letter to Moses Benjamin, written on the thirteenth of t h a t month, Captain Benj amin states t h a t his child is to be sent to America, by way of the Bermudas, in the schooner "Catherine." H e is under the charge of Captain J . H . Albouy, a t this time Captain Benjamin's p a r t n e r , and under the special care of a nurse, Miss Braggins, and attended by a slave girl, Sally. He is to be kept in the Bermudas or taken on to America, as the state of the w a r — t h e W a r of 1812 was then in progress—will permit. Moses Benjamin is to place the boy under the best of medical care. I n a letter from Captain Benjamin to his brother, under date of September 3, 1813, the f a t h e r writes as though he believes t h a t his son has now reached Norwich. H e was writing, however, to a brother who was no longer in the land of the living ; Moses Benjamin had died on J u l y 5 of t h a t year, though the news had not yet reached far-off Demerara. Accordingly Captain B e n j a min had to forego f o r P a r k this wise guardianship, and the boy was placed in the care of his aunt, the widow of Moses Benjamin. In Norwich, then, the boy P a r k found a home f o r the next 15 The letters from which this and succeeding quotations are taken ave in the Park Benjamin Collection, Columbia University Library.

[9]

ANCESTRY

AND

YOUTH

t h r e e y e a r s . I n f a c t , N o r w i c h b e c a m e f o r him his only home, in so f a r a s he h a d a p a r e n t a l home, in A m e r i c a . T h i s fine old C o n n e c t i c u t t o w n was destined t o hold a p l a c e of a f f e c t i o n in his h e a r t t h r o u g h o u t his e n t i r e lifetime. H e r e t u r n e d t o i t m a n y times, a n d w r o t e v a r i o u s poems c o n c e r n i n g scenes a n d incid e n t s of i t s h i s t o r y . " T h e Old S c h o o l - H o u s e " is q u i t e p r o b a b l y a u t o b i o g r a p h i c a l . A m o n g t h e s t a n z a s a r e these : On the village green it stood, And a tree was at the door, Whose shadow, broad and good, Reached f a r along the floor Of the school-room, when the sun P u t on his crimson vest, And, his daily labor done, Like a monarch sunk to rest. How the threshold-wood was w o r n ! How the lintel-post decayed ! By the tread at eve and morn, Of the feet that o'er it strayed— By the pressure of the crowd Within the portal small— By the ivy's emerald shroud T h a t w r a p p e d and darkened all. T h a t school-house dim and old— How many years have flown Since in its little fold My name was kindly known ! H o w different it seems From what it used to be, When, gay as morning dreams, We played around the tree ! How we watched the lengthening ray Through the dusty window-pane ! How we longed to be away And at sport upon the plain—

[10]

ANCESTRY

AND

YOUTH

To leave the weary books And the master's careful eye, For the flowers and for the brooks, And the cool and open sky. Young P a r k owed much to the loving care of Miss M a r y A. Braggins, the nurse who had accompanied him to America. She had held a special place in the home of Captain Benjamin. "She has lived in my family for more than twelve years," he writes, "and from her kind Attendance to all my Children, and more P a r t i c u l a r l y to my Dear lame Child; we are all under many Obligations to her, and Consider her as one of the family." Miss Braggins continued in this close maternal relationship with the children of Captain Benjamin throughout her life. In the later absence of their real mother she was a true foster mother to them, and to their nurse they always returned their sincere respect and love. T o P a r k she was especially dear ; his loyal devotion to her was one of the strongest and most beautiful attachments of his life. T o her Captain Benjamin entrusted the care and education of his two sons in America. I t was his g r e a t desire t h a t both boys should have a liberal education. His early letters to them contain many references of tender solicitude for their welfare in this respect. William Christopher had been sent to the Academy a t Plainfield, Connecticut. L a t e r both William Christopher and P a r k were sent to Bacon Academy, a t Colchester, Connecticut. This school was chosen because it was then considered one of the best schools in New England and also because the two boys might be trained under the guardianship of Miss Braggins and in healthful and pleasant surroundings. T h e p r e t t y little village of Colchester was the home of P a r k f o r the next few years, t h a t is, until 1822. The earlier pages of the Academy register have been torn out and lost, but those of the year 1816 contain the names of William C. Benjamin, P a r k Benjamin, and Stephen P a r k Benjamin, a cousin. L a t e r other children of the family were brought to Colchester. Two

ANCESTRY

AND

YOUTH

younger sisters, M a r y Elizabeth and Susan M a r g a r e t , and a younger b r o t h e r , B e n j a m i n H e n r y , were registered a t Bacon Academy in the y e a r s 1 8 1 6 - 1 8 2 7 . Colchester was evidently intended t o be a home, more or less p e r m a n e n t , f o r the family. F o r in October, 1816, C a p t a i n B e n j a m i n p u r c h a s e d in the names of William Christopher and P a r k B e n j a m i n a piece of land southwest of Colchester—a f a r m known until recently as " t h e B e n j a m i n f a r m . " D u r i n g the same y e a r he p u r c h a s e d a p r o p e r t y in the village of Colchester f o r his two d a u g h t e r s M a r y and Susan. This p r o p e r t y , on Main S t r e e t , included a house and a b a r n . T h e house, which still stands, later became p a r t of the holdings of Bacon Academy. W e know little of the life of y o u n g P a r k in Colchester d u r i n g these y e a r s . W e do know t h a t he was much in the family of his uncle Stephen B e n j a m i n , who owned a f a r m n e a r the village; and with his cousin Stephen P a r k B e n j a m i n a relationship s p r a n g u p t h a t was always t o be of almost b r o t h e r l y tenderness. Of his experience a t Bacon Academy P a r k left a personal record ; when the Academy celebrated its semicentennial in 1853, he was chosen to read a poem. I n these lines, a f t e r p a y i n g his respects to old acquaintances and to the influence of his early religious t r a i n i n g , he thus describes his boyhood days a t the Academy : Well I remember how to school I went On other things than study oft intent. When from the turret pealed the well-known bell, That seemed to utter—boys, come learn to spell And learn to read and write and cipher, too— Come, hasten, hasten ! Idleness won't do ! Well I remember how both large and small Collected daily in the speaking hall— The different branches in the hall downstairs In ordered ranks demurely unto prayers. Wo to the urchin who came in too late— Wo to the absent—awful was his fate ! If from his pocket he could not produce In lines paternal adequate excuse,

[12]

A N C E S T R Y

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The well-used ferule thumped his shrinking hand, Or by the birch were his small shoulders spanned. It did him good—it made him grow apace— It gave him morals, manners, grit and grace. Folks have grown wiser in our modern days, They sneer at Solomon's old-fashioned ways, The present mode of government is mild, We spare the rod and therefore spoil the child. P e r h a p s this sort of training was j u s t what young P a r k needed to develop his own "morals, manners, grit and grace." F r o m references in the letters of his f a t h e r we are led to believe t h a t because of the boy's affliction he had been somewhat indulged and spoiled. His testimony concerning the efficacy of the disciplinary system a t Bacon Academy is therefore f r a u g h t with personal meaning. I n 1822 the boy came again under the p a r e n t a l care and guidance t h a t he was so much in need of, f o r in t h a t year Captain Benjamin carried out a purpose t h a t he had had in mind for some y e a r s : he returned f o r a sojourn in America. Since the eldest son, William Christopher, was now a student a t Yale College, 16 New Haven was chosen as their home. Here the f a t h e r gathered together his family separated f o r so many years, and they lived quietly and happily in t h a t comfort and ease which had been made possible by the successful career of the sea captain, now p a s t fifty. I t was, however, only a brief reunion of about two years. F o r in 1824 occurred the circumstance which was to change so markedly the life of young P a r k . Affairs a t Demerara were a t this time in a somewhat troubled state, and Captain Benjamin became very anxious concerning the condition of his holdings there. Moreover, his p a r t n e r , James Albouy, wished to be absent from Demerara, to place his son in school in England. Thus it was imperative t h a t Captain Benjamin return to Demerara. 16

William Christopher Benjamin entered Yale in the fall of 1820 and is listed in the College Catalogues as a student for three years; but his name does not appear in the Catalogue for 1823-24, nor among the list of graduates.

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A f t e r careful preparations and provisions he set sail from Saybrook J u n e 16, in the brig "Falcon," Captain Jones of Middletown, taking with him William Christopher and his sister-in-law, Miss Gall. The vessel never reached her destination. Some four weeks later she was discovered by incoming vessels, d r i f t i n g on her beam ends. A t first there seemed to be some doubt as to the identity of the vessel so described, and there followed for the family in New Haven a period of anxious, heart-breaking suspense. Finally a vessel brought in incontrovertible evidence. No one knows what caused the accident—the vessel was probably overwhelmed by a sudden storm ; nor was any trace of the crew or passengers ever found. F o r the wife and children the blow was crushing. Stricken by the sudden calamity, Mrs. Benjamin was for a time quite ill. P a r k was left, at the age of fourteen, without a father's care. Fortunately, before Captain Benjamin had set out on his f a t a l voyage, he had, with a strange sense of premonition, entrusted his son P a r k to the care of James Savage, a prominent lawyer of Boston, with instructions to place the lad in the school of Charles W . Greene a t Jamaica Plain, an institution of which he had heard much praise. In his letter to Savage, the f a t h e r expressed his desire t h a t the boy be placed under strict discipline, and t h a t every effort be made to strengthen purpose and character and to keep him away from any lowering influence. The f a t h e r , according to his letter, intended to send his son to W a s h ington College, soon to be opened a t H a r t f o r d under the p a t r o n age of Bishop Brownell. L a t e r the young man was to study law. T o p r e p a r e f o r entrance to college, he was to be sent for a t least a year to Mr. Greene's school. This school was then considered one of exceptional merit. Charles W . Greene was a schoolmaster of the older type, with very definite convictions as to the education and discipline of young men. H e delegated much of the instruction to subordinates, while he himself attended personally to the moral supervision and instruction of his charges. H e strove to make his boys

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gentlemen. The result was t h a t the graduates of the school bore the stamp of careful training in character. The school, a f t e r wards known as Linden Hall, from the great avenue of linden trees leading to the door, retained its deserved reputation for many years. Among its graduates to attain renown were John Lothrop Motley and George W . Curtis. The latter celebrated and described the school many years a f t e r in his novel Trumps, the scene of which is laid at Jamaica Plain. Although Curtis was at the school about six years a f t e r Benjamin was there, the picture the novelist has drawn in the first chapter of Trumps is probably true of the school in that earlier day : Upon the main street of the pleasant village of Delafield Savory Gray, Esq., hired a large house, with an avenue of young lindens in front, a garden on one side, and a spacious play-ground in the rear. The pretty pond was not far away, with its sloping shores and neat villas, and a distant spire upon the opposite bank—the whole like the vignette of an English pastoral poem. Curtis paints the school, however, rather facetiously as one in which instruction was but ordinary—"The boys did not learn any thing"—a school immersed in conventionality and orthodoxy. 17 Whatever may have been the effect of the school upon the novelist, it left its influence for good upon the young P a r k Benjamin. He remained for only one year, but that one was rich in experience. Here he probably learned to know Motley, beginning a friendship which was to last throughout life ; here also his character was formed and molded. Jamaica Plain and its lake were favorite spots for the imagination of the young poet; he afterwards celebrated the beauty of the lake in several of his finest poems. "Jamaica Lake" sets f o r t h the same scene as t h a t described by Curtis in prose : Soft-waving sheet of water ! when a boy, M y heart responded to thy look of j o y ; " George W. Curtis, Trumps (New York, 1861), pp. 11-12. [16]

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'T was my delight to sit upon thy shore, And hear thy billows breaking at my feet; Not, like the ocean's, with incessant roar, But, like a sea-shell, low-voiced, hushed and sweet. 'T was my delight from the uprising hill— The great sun sinking in the crimson west— To gaze across thy scarcely-ruffled breast, On those dark pines that rise in grandeur still, As high, as graceful, and as richly green, As when in youth I loved the lovely scene. Ah ! now I fear, when oft thy smiles I see, My heart is changed, in all, save loving thee ! A t the end of a y e a r he was r e a d y f o r college. W a s h i n g t o n College, favored as we have seen by C a p t a i n B e n j a m i n , had begun its work d u r i n g t h a t year, 1824, in t e m p o r a r y buildings, until the new buildings might be ready f o r occupancy in the following September. P a r k ' s g u a r d i a n , J a m e s Savage, evidently feared, however, t h a t the efficiency and the f u t u r e of the new college were too d o u b t f u l to j u s t i f y sending his ward there. Accordingly there was a change in plan : P a r k was sent, instead, to H a r v a r d College, where he entered in 1825. I n the college catalogue of t h a t y e a r he is listed as a freshman, in the catalogue of the following y e a r as a sophomore. H a r v a r d was then j u s t emerging f r o m its provinciality. I t was still in m a n y ways a small college. I n 1825 there were b u t a few over f o u r hundred students registered, of whom less t h a n two hundred were in the regular college d e p a r t m e n t . T h e course of study was the conventional classical regimen, with a maximum of L a t i n and Greek and with a minimum of philosophy—termed " m o r a l p h i l o s o p h y " — m a t h e m a t i c s , modern language, and some science. T h e students were compelled t o a t t e n d chapel morning and evening; when the longer days permitted, chapel was held a t six in the morning and a t six in the evening. These two religious services bounded the r e g u l a r college d a y . T h e recitations, according to memoirs of the time, were r a t h e r d r e a r y affairs. [16]

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The dormitories were almost S p a r t a n in their simplicity; they were carpetless, and for heating had only open wood fires. Nevertheless a considerable amount of eager, active life flowed in and out of these frigid studies—and some conviviality. Biographers of Holmes, Lowell, and others of t h a t period recall the friendly meetings in room and club. There were, of course, the traditional college pranks. Lowell's "Cambridge T h i r t y Years A g o " is a delightful memoir of Cambridge and H a r v a r d and the personalities t h a t gave color and flavor to the campus in the second quarter of the century. Commencement, held on the last Wednesday in August, was the gala period of the year. T h e stated exercises, with rhetorical orations and special ritual, maintained all the grave formality t h a t cap and gown could marshal. B u t around the campus the town took on the aspect of an English fair, with concessions exhibiting freaks of all sorts and with booths retailing a full complement of drinks and light refreshments. 1 8 I n all this young P a r k Benjamin shared. H e roomed in Hollis Hall—Room No. 22—with George S. Hillard, of no mean fame among the poets of a later day, and entered fully into the rich life of the college. T h e faculty, though small, was of distinct character and flavor, headed as it was by President Kirkland's inspiring personality. Lowell reminds us t h a t the President was a man of infinite resource, who evidently could draw upon endless reserves. 19 Under his guidance H a r v a r d expanded into a university with schools of Medicine, Divinity, and Law. The other teachers are familiar to readers of Holmes's poem "Vestigia Quinqué R e t r o r sum": "mercurial Farrar"; "mild, benignant, cautious, learned Ware"; " s t u r d y , patient, faithful, honest Hedge," professor of logic and metaphysics. There were "Willard larynxed like a double bass," and Popkin, " t h a t explosive name," the professor of Greek. Ticknor, "with honeyed voice and courtly grace," was is James Russell Lowell, "Cambridge Thirty Years Ago," in Literary Essays {Prose Works, Riverside ed., Boston, 1913), I, 79-82. ι» Ibid., 1,88-89.

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the apostle of the renaissance of E u r o p e a n culture. And above all was Edward T . Channing, with his bland, superior look, Cool as a moonbeam on a frozen brook, While the pale student, shivering in his shoes, Sees from his theme the turgid rhetoric ooze.20 Channing, brother of the famous divine, left his mark upon every student whose English composition came under his supervision. E d w a r d Everett Hale recalls him thus : He deserves the credit of the English of Emerson, Holmes, Sumner, Clarke, Bellows, Lowell, Higginson, and other men whom he trained. Their English did more credit to Harvard College, I think, than any other of its achievements for those thirty-two years [1819-1851]. You sat, physically, at his side. He read your theme aloud with you, —so loud, if he pleased, that all of the class who were present could hear his remarks of praise or ridicule. 21 Thomas Wentworth Higginson himself said t h a t Channing "probably trained as many conspicuous authors as all other American instructors p u t together." 2 2 J u s t how much P a r k Benjamin owed to the careful instruction of Professor Channing we cannot estimate, but the mark of it is evident upon him as it is upon all of his illustrious classmates. F o r Benjamin entered H a r v a r d with the class t h a t was to be "the famous Class of ' 2 9 " immortalized in the commemorative poems of Oliver Wendell Holmes. H e was of the fellowship of Holmes ; of B e n j amin Peirce, later to be the eminent mathematician and astronomer; of Benjamin R . Curtis, to be Judge of the United States Supreme C o u r t ; of George T . Bigelow, to be J u d g e of the Massachusetts Supreme C o u r t ; of James Freeman Clarke, to be the g r e a t author and divine; of Samuel Francis Smith, who was to write " M y Country 'Tis of T h e e " ; and of others of t h a t class who were to fill prominent places in state 20 The Complete Poetical Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes (Cambridge ed., Boston, 1908), pp. 244^45. 21 James Russell Lowell and His Friends (Boston, 1899), pp. 18-19. 22 Higginson, Old Cambridge (New York, 1899), p. 14.

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and nation. D u r i n g his sophomore y e a r Charles Sumner was a f r e s h m a n , and R a l p h W a l d o Emerson was a g r a d u a t e student ; and the names of others who were to be the leaders of t h o u g h t and culture in their generation were many. Y o u n g B e n j a m i n was thus thrown into intimate c o n t a c t with this remarkable g r o u p in what was one of the most stimulating environments in our c o u n t r y ' s history. Cambridge was the l i t e r a r y center of the c o u n t r y . Self-contained in its culture, and sure of its destiny, it was setting itself seriously to the task of p r o d u c i n g a l i t e r a t u r e f o r America. Higginson, in his delightful Old Cambridge,23 reminds us how much of its life was built a r o u n d the reading of books and the making of them. And H a r v a r d itself was, above all, l i t e r a r y . H a l e tells us 2 4 t h a t neither athletics n o r politics occupied the supreme place in student interest, b u t t h a t l i t e r a t u r e was the fashion. F o r , while there was no f o r m a l course in l i t e r a t u r e , there was instruction in rhetoric and, as we have seen, excellent drill in w r i t i n g ; moreover, the l i b r a r y of 50,000 books was open to all. T h e students formed themselves into small g r o u p s f o r the study of l i t e r a t u r e ; p r a c t i c a l l y all of the student societies were l i t e r a r y . Is it a n y wonder, then, t h a t y o u n g B e n j a m i n ' s career took a decidedly l i t e r a r y t u r n ? H e r e too he formed the first of his most i m p o r t a n t friendships. W i t h Holmes he joined a little l a t e r in publishing their earliest l i t e r a r y efforts. W i t h H i l l a r d , Sumner, and J o h n O. S a r g e n t he formed friendships t h a t lasted f o r life. W i t h all these he entered into the making of those plans f o r a l i t e r a t u r e which would be t r u l y representative of America. A t H a r v a r d was born P a r k B e n j a m i n the poet and editor. U n f o r t u n a t e l y , however, this p l e a s a n t and promising association was i n t e r r u p t e d f o r a season. A serious illness compelled P a r k to leave H a r v a r d d u r i n g his second year. W h e n his health permitted, he followed his f a t h e r ' s original intention, and entered W a s h i n g t o n College a t H a r t f o r d . 23 Pp. 25-26. 24 Lowell and Hie Friends, pp. 22-24.

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Washington College—now T r i n i t y College—was then s t a r t ing its third academic year, a f t e r a stormy and uncertain beginning. 2 5 I t had been founded by the Episcopalians of Connecticut under the immediate inspiration of Bishop T . C. Brownell. There was vigorous opposition to the founding of a second college in the state, resulting in a fierce pamphlet war, in which the friends of the college were finally triumphant. The institution was incorporated in 1823; in the following year Bishop Brownell was elected president ; a faculty was organized ; and on September 23, 1824, the college opened with nine undergraduates. D u r i n g the same year two buildings were begun on a site of about fourteen acres—now Bushneil P a r k , the site of the Connecticut State House. B y 1827, when P a r k Benjamin entered as a junior, the new college was well launched upon its career. The buildings were completed and comfortably furnished. The student body had increased to about eighty-five, regular class work was carried on, and extracurricular activities had been organized. T h e faculty was small, but carefully selected—men of character and mature scholarship. Among them were the Reverend George W . Doane, later Bishop of New Jersey, and the Reverend Norman Pinney, later a poet of local repute in Connecticut. The course of study was much like t h a t of H a r v a r d : the classics, accomp a n y i n g "antiquities," mathematics, philosophy, but more science. In f a c t , Washington College boldly advertised its p u r pose to make the course of study more practical than the conventional course of the time, an idea very common now, but then quite revolutionary. Life a t Washington College was even more severely regimented than a t H a r v a r d , because it was under the strict code of a small denominational school. P r a y e r s and recitations began in Seabury H a l l at six o'clock in the morning during the winter; 25 The best accounts of the early history of Washington College are to be found in J. H. Trumbull, The Memorial History of Hartford County, Connecticut (Boston, 1886), I, 435-44; and in Samuel Hart's "Trinity College, Hartford," in New England Magazine, n.s., I (May, 1886), 393-408.

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during the summer the hour was five-thirty. W o r k closed a t fourt h i r t y in the afternoon in the winter, a t five-thirty in the summer. T h e atmosphere was sternly religious ; p r a y e r s were held twice daily, and rules and regulations were very explicit and exacting. Nevertheless there was fun, too. Youthful reaction against such an austere environment would be inevitable ; there were larks, even a t times rebellious outbreaks, which called down upon the offenders the wrath and censure of the faculty. There was also recreation of a quieter sort. J o h n Bigelow, who was a student there about three years a f t e r P a r k Benjamin left, tells in his reminiscences 20 of quiet walks through the town, and of bathing in the little stream t h a t wound about the campus. An interesting chapter in P a r k ' s life a t Washington College is the story of his connection with the Parthenon, a literary society. On October 27, 1827,' twenty-eight members of the Athenaeum Society withdrew and formed the new society. P a r k was evidently a leader in the secession, f o r the records of the Society 27 show t h a t he assisted in organizing the new g r o u p and t h a t he was a frequent contributor to the literary programs. H e was an excellent debater, of good voice and presence—qualities which he developed throughout his life to a remarkable degree; he was also usually the one called upon to read a poem a t the exhibition held a t the close of each term. H e was clearly the most accomplished literary student a t Washington College a t t h a t time, his talents and his two years at H a r v a r d having given him a decided advantage over the less favored. J o h n Bigelow says, "If I owe anything to Washington College, it is the development of a taste f o r such intellectual pleasures as books, suited to my age and instruction, could give." No doubt P a r k Benjamin might have paid the same tribute to his alma mater. Life a t Washington was more retired than at H a r v a r d ; he had more time f o r thinking, for reading, and for writing. The only letter of this period t h a t we have, one to the Honorable 2« Retrospections of an Active Life (New York, 1909-13), I, 28-34. In the Library of Trinity College, Hartford.

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'James Lanman, his stepfather, dated November 29, 1827, is filled with grave, sententious comment upon his studies and his deportment. He was evidently giving his most serious effort to his studies, trying to make the most of what Washington College was offering him toward his education. Park graduated August 6, 1829, at the head of his class. 28 On his graduation day he delivered the English Salutatory Address and an oration, "The Incentive Presented by Science to Virtuous Principle," and read a poem, "The Fall of Nineveh." 29 For the Commencement exercises three years later, September 27,1832, he returned, after the manner of those days, to receive the degree of Master of Arts. On September 26 he read before the first meeting of the Alumni Association "A Poem on the Meditation of Nature." This poem, which was much praised, was later published.30 Thus ended the academic education of Park Benjamin. He had prepared for it at two of the best academies in New England, continued it during two years in the stimulating environment of Harvard, amidst friendships of telling influence, and closed it after two years of retired study, of reading, and of literary apprenticeship at Washington College. Although barely twenty years old at the time of his graduation, he was well equipped to enter upon the more active period of his lifework. 28 There was a triple tie for first place, so that precedence was decided by lot. 2» This poem was printed in the Amateur, I (June 15, 1830), 2-4. so Park Benjamin, A Poem on the Meditation of Nature (Hartford, 1832).

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and its sympathetic, stimulating environment furnished the impetus t h a t definitely launched P a r k Benjamin on his lifework of writing. H e was made much of by the college authorities and by his admiring fellow students and seems also to have been the petted literary lion of H a r t f o r d and a welcome guest in H a r t f o r d society, f o r his reputation was beginning to spread, locally a t least. H e had been a t H a r v a r d and he knew intimately the g r o u p of young Cambridge literary artists. Washington College was proud to welcome one who had lived among these rising young poets. H e was accordingly given every opportunity to uncover his talent during the various formal occasions of the college year. A t the J u n i o r Exhibition on April 17,1828, he read a lengthy poem called " T h e Battle of Navarino." Several typical lyric passages show the quality of his early poetry. A S H I N G T O N COLLEGE

It is that sweet and witching time, When summer's sun has past his prime, And Autumn to the lab'rer dear, Seems like the twilight of the year, Now fruits and flowers which latest spring Are ready for the gathering. And full, rich clusters of the vine Round green, acacia bowers entwine. O'er all thy widely spread domains, Thy cities and thy verdant plains, Alike a halo bright is spread, And circling glories seem to wed Thy crescent shedding rays of light. *

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T h e morn shines f a i r on Navarin, And on its clear and waving bay From whose blue waters slight and thin Mists slowly rise, to fleet away. I n ancient days, here Pylus stood, Laved by the glad Ionian sea, And onward, onward rolled the flood Against a coast rock-bound and free. Barbarians now within thy walls Have reared the crescent o'er the cross, The Greeks have fled their lordly halls, And virtue's self is turned to dross. *

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T h e r e is a music in the dashing spray There is a beauty on the ambient wave, Which from the vessel's side, when tossed away, Forms glistening rainbows in the solar ray Then passes off into its watery grave. Slow and majestic now, the tall ships veer And show the deep-mouthed cannon frowning near. T h e snow-white wings on which they lately flew Like plumed birds across the waters blue, Are idle now and anchoring they rest Before the crescent fleet where all is life And stirring notes which tell the coming strife, Sound like a trumpet o'er the bay's calm breast. * * * Land of the Lyne ! thy bards again shall pour, Rich melodies and songs of classic lore, Home of the beautiful ! Circassian maids Shall tune the lute in green Arcadia's shades, And Learning too, thou muse of arts and arms Wooing her votaries by Minerva's charms Resume her seats in groves of Academe, And freely quaff the pure Pierian stream. 1 On D e c e m b e r 18, 1 8 2 8 , h e r e a d b e f o r e t h e P a r t h e n o n S o c i e t y a p o e m called " T h e P a r t h e n o n . " A t his g r a d u a t i o n , A u g u s t 6, 1 8 2 9 , he r e a d , as h a s been n o t e d , " T h e F a l l of N i n e v e h . " All of ι The manuscript of this poem is in the Park Benjamin Collection. [«·*]

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these poems, youthful and declamatory, were much praised locally at the time. They certainly show at least that he had early ability for sustained poetical production; and in these formal efforts, as well as in the shorter poems with which he was experimenting, we catch flashes that show promise of the poet to come. At the same time Park was fortunate in forming an acquaintance with one who did much toward spreading his fame beyond the college walls and even beyond Hartford. This was George D. Prentice, who came to H a r t f o r d in 1828 to take editorial charge of the New-England Weekly Review. Prentice, a native of Preston, Connecticut, the ancestral home of the Benjamins, immediately sought out the young poet and offered to print his poems. He published generous excerpts from the long poems delivered at the various college exercises ; he also published from time to time complete poems. More than this, he praised the poetry—often extravagantly—whenever he had an opportunity to do so. Prefacing an extract from "The Fall of Nineveh" he wrote : The Poem on "The Fall of Nineveh," by our old correspondent, Mr. Benjamin, was decidedly the best thing we remember to have heard at any College Commencement. Mr. Benjamin knows what Poetry is —knows the difference between the grossness of ordinary materiality and the "etherial breath of Nature blown over the sleeping forms of Beauty," to waken them into life and motion. We know of no Poet, who would not be proud if he could lay his finger upon the following lines, and call them his own.2 Moreover, Prentice not only flattered the young poet, he decidedly influenced his life purpose and also gave a distinct bias to his literary and critical methods and ideals. Prentice had the gift—-one of somewhat doubtful value—of cutting criticism. An editor of keen observation and alert mind, he was also, as his biographer John James P i a t t reminds us, "a man of the true genus irritàbile." 3 His criticisms of men and of manners were 2 New-England Weekly Review, Aug. 10, 1829. 8 Poems of George D. Prentice (Cincinnati, 1876), p. xliii.

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generally tinctured with gall, and he used his remarkable command over telling phrase and pointed epigram without favor and without mercy. Hence he soon became the most feared of the editors of New England ; there, and later in Kentucky, few rivals dared to tempt the thrust of his repartee. Young Benjamin fell in easily enough with the literary methods of Prentice. Perhaps there was something of bitterness in his own nature, a bitterness natural to his sensitive temperament because of his physical misfortune. Whatever the cause, he readily learned from Prentice the potency of the trenchant pen, acquiring an aptitude that remained with him to the end of his days. He, too, although he was the kindliest of men to friend and family, was in professional practice acrimonious in his criticism of the literary work coming to his notice. He, too, became in time a widely feared literary critic, and there were few who could stand up against him. During Benjamin's stay at H a r t f o r d the two men were in close relationship, working and writing together. Prentice was at this time not only an editor but also one of the best-known poets of Connecticut. Naturally he became guide and counselor to the younger poet. A comparison of the work of the two produced during this period shows many likenesses both of theme and of handling. This pleasant association was broken in 1830. Prentice, who had a way of discovering and developing talent, had been watching and encouraging another young poet, John Greenleaf Whittier. To this kindlier spirit he now turned over the destinies of the Weekly Review. He himself moved to the Middle West, where he became the founder and famous editor of the Louisville Journal, a champion of Henry Clay, and a great exponent of the Whig cause. Park Benjamin, under the strong influence of Prentice, had, in the meantime, decided to begin an editorial career of his own. He found an opportunity immediately at hand. Within a few months after his graduation from college he became editor and p a r t owner of the Norwich Spectator, published in his home [26]

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town of Norwich, Connecticut. T o the young g r a d u a t e this quite naturally seemed the most propitious place in which to begin an editorial career. H e r e his mother, now married to James Lanman, J u d g e of the Supreme Court of Connecticut and formerly a Senator from Connecticut, had established her home. And here he had many friends and acquaintances. Accordingly, when an opportunity came to purchase a p a p e r in Norwich, he eagerly seized it. H e was not, it must be confessed, very discerning in his p u r chase. The p a p e r had been known as the Canal of Intelligence— its object was the c a r r y i n g on of anti-Masonic p r o p a g a n d a — and it had an unsavory reputation and many enemies. From the owner, L. H . Young, Benjamin purchased a half-interest, and with the son, Marcus B. Young, he formed the new firm of Young and Benjamin. They changed the name of the p a p e r to the Norwich Spectator; at the same time the anti-Masonic attacks wisely ceased. The first number was issued November 24,1829. The venture was kindly received by contemporary editors, Prentice "puffing" the new enterprise quite royally in the Weekly Review. The p a p e r was well edited. I t contained poetic contributions by Charles Sprague, J . O. Rockwell, and others. The issue f o r December 8 , 1 8 2 9 , contained a poem by J . G. Whittier, entitled "Silent W o r s h i p . " Benjamin himself contributed both prose and poetry. The Spectator, f o r all its auspicious beginning, was, however, short-lived. Only ten numbers were issued, the final one being t h a t of J a n u a r y 26,1830. 4 T h e cause f o r the sudden termination of the p a p e r — a n d of Benjamin's early editorial career—is not known. P e r h a p s the unpopularity of its predecessor was too g r e a t a handicap for the new contestant in the editorial field; or the cause of the failure may have been economic. T h e editor of a rival Norwich p a p e r , the Norwich Republican and Stoning4 The only file of the Norwich Spectator extant (Nov. 24, 1829-Jan. 19, 1830) is in the private library of Mr. Robert P. Welles, Fairfield, Conn., through whose courtesy it was made available for study.

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gave Benjamin's journal this obituary notice

under date of January 30, 1830 : The Norwich Spectator, formerly published in this place, is discontinued. The cause, we suppose, is to be found in the fact that more than two Journals cannot meet with an adequate support in this place. Towards Mr. Benjamin, the late Editor, we take a pleasure in expressing our favorable regard as an amiable gentleman. He bears with him our wishes for his happiness. Respecting the departed Spectator, what can we with propriety say more, than "Alas Poor Yorick!" Probably, however, Prentice, who also knew him well, judged correctly when he wrote in the Review

of February 1, 1 8 3 0 :

"Brief be my course, if 'tis but bright."—Our friend, Mr. Benjamin, lately the Editor of the Norwich Spectator, is an Editor no longer.— Like a good fellow, he has kicked over his Editorial chair, thrown his last article at the head of his devil, and gone off to sing, laugh, and whistle, at will. Mr. B. is a capital chap at the head of a newspaper, but altogether too much of a poet to wear the editorial fetter for any great length of time. This uncertainty of goal and vacillation of purpose, so t a c t fully accredited by Prentice to poetic temperament, was characteristic of Benjamin during the next few years. The years 1830— 1835 were years of experiment, of trial of talents and powers. H a v i n g tried local journalism without success, he now turned, like so many young Americans of his day, to the law; in fact, he was now following out his father's wish as well as his own strong bent for the oratorical and forensic. Accordingly, back to Harvard and Cambridge he went, this time to begin the study of law at the Harvard Law School. When he entered in September, 1830, as a junior, the Harvard L a w School had already won fame and recognition. I t was under the dominating influence of Justice Joseph Story, whose name gave deserved prestige to the school. H e was assisted by John Hooker Ashmun, who had an established reputation as a teacher of law. B o t h men were real teachers, scholars who wëre also per-

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sonally attractive and inspiring. T h e course of study consisted of readings, recitations upon the readings, and the discussion and trial of practice cases. Moreover, there were the obvious advantages of association with H a r v a r d College and of opportunities to observe actual legal practice and procedure in Boston. A t H a r v a r d P a r k Benjamin also renewed and strengthened his friendships with his former H a r v a r d associates. George S. Hillard was a t the Law School; Wendell Phillips and John L o t h r o p Motley were seniors in the College ; and Oliver Wendell Holmes was a student in the Medical School. Holmes, with a g r o u p of inspired undergraduates about him, had been hard a t work upon the Collegian. F o r Holmes the poet, this was one of his most productive years. Moreover, Boston and Cambridge were in the full flow of the "New England Renaissance." Most of the young men and women either were writing or were formed into clubs and social groups organized to promote the study and the production of literature. Benjamin was, then, once again in the company of old friends and in a congenial and stimulating literary environment. He remained a t the H a r v a r d Law School until some time in 1832. I n the H a r v a r d catalogue for 1831—1832 his name appears among the members of the middle class, the course having been in the meantime increased to three years. B u t some time in t h a t academic year he left Cambridge and went to New Haven, where he entered the Law School of Yale College. W h y he made this change we do not know ; it may have been t h a t he might p r e p a r e himself f o r the examination of the Connecticut b a r as well as f o r t h a t of Massachusetts. His course was as yet erratic and uncertain. T h e Law School of Yale College had a t t h a t time a very tenuous connection with Yale proper. No degrees were granted ; indeed, no degrees in Law were granted a t Yale until 1843. 5 » Roger W. Tuttle, ed., Biographies : Graduates of the Yale Law School, 1824.-1899 (New Haven, 1911), p. 1. Also see W. L. Kingsley, Yale College (New York, 1879), II, 92.

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As in the Harvard Law School, the faculty consisted of two members: one, the Honorable David Daggett, Judge of the Supreme Court of Connecticut, gave the more formal lectures and lent his name and prestige to the school ; the other, Samuel J . Hitchcock, did most of the teaching. The course of study was similar to that of the Harvard Law School—readings, discussions, and the trial of typical cases. J u s t how long Benjamin remained at Yale is not quite clear, 6 for no separate records are extant of the Law School and its work in those days. He probably did not pursue his studies very seriously; blest with ample means, he found more pleasure in the leisure afforded for reading and in the pleasant society which centered in the Yale campus. He had rooms in the Tontine Hotel and was welcomed in the homes of the best. There is a tradition that he was at one time engaged to one of the De Forest girls, famous beauties of Yale and New Haven society, but that the affair came to naught. 7 Here, moreover, he strengthened an acquaintance that was to have considerable influence upon his career. In the De Forest home he met frequently another young poet, whom he had already known in H a r t f o r d and in Boston : Nathaniel Parker Willis, who had been since his undergraduate days at Yale a bright star of New Haven society. To Willis, Benjamin had already transferred his professional allegiance. When Prentice had turned over the editorial control of the New-England Weekly Review to Whittier, he had not, apparently, transferred with it the loyalty of at least one of its contributors ; for we find in the succeeding numbers of that weekly only one poem that can be positively identified as Benj amin's. Whittier seems to have admired the poetry of Benjamin, and this professional esteem was reciprocated; but personally there was little in common between the two men. The brilliant young Willis, on the other hand, was something of a kindred β See Catalogue of the Offleer» and Students of Yale College for 1882-33. See also Tuttle, Biographies, pp. 55-56. 7 Letter from Louise Tracy to William Evarts Benjamin, May [18], 1910, containing recollections of her mother. ( I n the P a r k Benjamin Collection.) [SO]

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spirit. H e was a t this time the most p o p u l a r poet and editor in America. Possessed of distinct personal c h a r m and bearing, he h a d won, in spite of his studied affectation, the admiration of l i t e r a r y America. Hence B e n j a m i n was p r o u d to give his devotion to Willis and his periodical. Willis, a f t e r two or three mildly successful l i t e r a r y ventures, h a d launched, in Boston in 1829, the American Monthly Magazine. T h i s periodical bore all the m a r k s of the editor's mannerisms. T h e prose articles were written in t h a t mélange of sophomoric heaviness and j a u n t y thinness which Willis had so much difficulty in controlling t h r o u g h o u t his l i t e r a r y career. T h e n in the intimate editorial " T e t e - a - t e t e Confessions," " T h e S c r a p Book," and " T h e E d i t o r ' s T a b l e , " in which he disclosed the inner workings of the editorial office, Willis was a t his worst. T h e editor . . . takes the reader into his confidence and his sanctum, makes him sit down in his red morocco dormeuse, reads him bits of verse from his old scrapbooks and his favorite authors, calls attention to his japónica, his smoking pastille, his scarlet South American trulian (a most familiar bird with Willis—he gets it in again in "Lady Ravelgold"), and his two dogs Ugolino and L. E. L., whose lair is in the rejected MSS. basket. He fosters an agreeable fiction that he writes with a bottle of Hildesheimer and a plate of olives at his elbow, and he says now and then in a hospitable aside "Take another olive," or "Pass the Johannisbergh" ; this to his imaginary interlocutor, Cousin Florence, or Tom Lascelles, or The Idle Man, an epicure and a dandy, "who eats in summer with an amber-handled fork to keep his palm cool." 8 T h e magazine was issued amid a storm of scoffing criticism. Yet he managed t o g a t h e r a b o u t him contributors such as Richa r d H i l d r e t h , Albert Pike, J o h n 0 . Rockwell, and M r s . L y d i a H . Sigourney, and the magazine a t t a i n e d some vogue. I n J u n e , 1830, a p p e a r e d the first contribution of P a r k B e n j a m i n — a poem, " E v e n i n g in J u n e . " Other contributions, all verse, a p p e a r e d in the issues f o r September, October, and December, s Henry A. Beers, Nathaniel Parker Willis (Boston, 1888), p. 86.

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1830 : in the September number "The Parthenon" appeared in its entirety ; in the October number was "Geneva by Moonlight," with a criticism by Willis praising the poem ; and in the December number, an extract from "Musing Hours," one of the best of Benjamin's early poems. There were no further contributions during the ensuing months. In September, 1831, the American Monthly Magazine was removed to New York, where it was merged in the New-York Mirror, and Willis entered into his lifelong partnership with George P. Morris. At this same time Benjamin severed his very brief professional connection with Willis. Back of the rupture in professional relationship was also, we are told, a breaking of friendship. And we know something of the cause of this break. Willis was an unsuccessful suitor for the hand of Park's sister Mary Elizabeth, now grown into a beautiful and talented woman. There is a tradition that although her guardian, James Savage, ostensibly opposed the match, Willis accused her brother of being the cause of the miscarriage of his cherished plan. 9 Whatever the causes of the break, the two writers now became literary rivals and bitter enemies. Willis nevertheless left his stamp upon the work of Benjamin. There is in his poetry of this time the same studied, jaunty a i r ; his prose, too, bears the mark of Willis's artificial cleverness. In fact, just as always with Willis, from now on there are two Park Benjamins—one the man himself, the other the carefully posed critic and writer. As time goes on, it is increasingly difficult to distinguish between the composite of Prentice's bitterness and Willis's affectation that colors Benjamin's literary style and the more genial, honest man beneath it. During the years immediately following the completion of his course at the Yale Law School, Benjamin resided in Boston, where he lived, under the guise of legal practice, a semiliterary life. Indeed his legal career reminds us of that of Holmes and of s Beers, Willis, pp. 96-97. See also Bulletin thors, IV, No. 6 (July-August, 1900), 6-7.

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Lowell, both of whom found literature more enticing than law and gave the l a t t e r only scant attention. H e was admitted to the Connecticut b a r in 1833, and to the Massachusetts b a r in 1834. H e occupied a law office with Isaac McLellan, another poet, in T u d o r ' s Building in Court Street. McLellan's record of him is, " I do not think t h a t he ever opened a law book." 10 In f a c t , it is family tradition t h a t he had only one case—one of piracy ! But while legal clients were few, perhaps to his complete satisfaction, of literary clients and visitors there were many. His office seems to have been a sort of clearinghouse for literary effort, and a gathering place for people of literary taste. A t the same time the Benjamin home at l é Temple Place was famous as a social center for the younger literary circle of Boston and Cambridge. Here P a r k , with his two charming sisters M a r y Elizabeth and Susan M a r g a r e t , had established a home of comfort and refinement. Here met the literary group j u s t emerging into consciousness of power and of belief in one another, and the social evenings frequently took on the aspect of a salon. Benjamin was himself of marked social powers. Holmes says of him, " P a r k . . . was a genial entertaining companion, of sanguine disposition and eminently social n a t u r e . " 1 1 His two sisters were social favorites in Boston, M a r y especially having marked intellectual brilliance, and their admirers were many. In the biographies of the men of the group many are the tributes to the popularity of the Benjamin home. Sumner, Holmes, and Motley were frequent and welcome guests, and all have borne record of the hospitality and genial atmosphere of the home in Temple Place. "There was no want of good talking a t a dinner or supper where Hillard, Benjamin, Holmes, and Sumner were gathered," writes a biographer of Sumner. 1 2 Holmes, in his memoir of Motley, says : 10 Bulletin, Soc. Am. Authors, III, No. 4 (March, 1899), 1-3. 11 From a letter of Oliver Wendell Holmes to Mrs. Mary Ferris, Aug. 31, 1888. ( M S copy made by Mrs. Ferris, in the Park Benjamin Collection.) 12 Edward L. Pierce, Memoir and Letters of Charles Sumner (Boston, 1893), I, 163.

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I met him [Motley], however, not very rarely, at one house where we were both received with the greatest cordiality, and where the attractions brought together many both young and old to enjoy the society of its charming and brilliant inmates. This was at No. 14 Temple Place, where Mr. Park Benjamin was then living with his two sisters, both in the bloom of young womanhood. . . . Those who remember Mary Benjamin find it hard to speak of her in the common terms of praise which they award to the good and the lovely. She was not only handsome and amiable and agreeable, but there was a cordial frankness, an open-hearted sincerity about her which made her seem like a sister to those who could help becoming her lovers. She stands quite apart in the memory of the friends who knew her best, even from the circle of young persons whose recollections they most cherish.13 Holmes writes so eloquently of M a r y Elizabeth Benjamin in connection with his memoir of Motley because she afterwards became the wife of the historian, and exerted a strong influence upon his life and work. Every biographer of Motley has spoken in like terms of the force of her personality in shaping her husband's career. Susan M a r g a r e t Benjamin married Joseph Lewis Stackpole, intimate friend of Motley, thus adding another bond to the close relationship between these two men. I n this sympathetic and stimulating environment P a r k B e n j a min was now beginning to find himself, although the process was one of varied and continual experiment. Entirely untroubled either by financial problems or by the demands of his legal p r o fession, he had leisure requisite for any such experiments as he might choose to make. H e did considerable prose writing. H e wrote, it seems, many critical reviews of current literary productions f o r the newspapers and magazines of Boston ; such criticism appeared anonymously, of course, and is difficult to identify. By this writing, and especially through his connection and association with the literary g r o u p of Boston and Cambridge, he was f u r t h e r shaping his critical principles and literary ideals. is John Lothrop Motley: a Memoir (Boston, 1888), pp. 21-22. See also Susan and Herbert St. John Mildmay, John Lothrop Motley and His Family (London and New York, 1910), pp. 309, 313.

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H e projected several literary enterprises, of which his fertile brain was doubtless full. Most of these schemes came to naught. T h u s a t one time he considered the publication of a collection of anecdotes of American painters. 1 4 He assisted in the editing of various literary productions such as g i f t books and annuals. In 1834 he was editor of Youth's Keepsake for 1835. 1 5 I n all of these activities we see the young literary artist, not too sure of purpose but of the highest ideals, attempting most diligently to find what his true talents are and how he may best use them. A t the same time he was writing p o e t r y and developing his powers of poetic composition. The Poem on the Meditation of Nature, read in 1832 before the Washington College Alumni Association, shows a maturing command of poetic form, especially the ten-syllable line, a line which he was able to produce in quantity and in consistent quality throughout his life. The opening lines of the poem are typical : How priceless is the lesson that we learn From Nature's bright, yet ever-varying, page ! In youth's warm glow, when rays of promise burn, And in the frosty evening of old age, One joy abides within the fervent heart, Which only can with life and hope depart. It is to gaze on Nature, and to feel, Though time may on our pathway darkly steal And veil the firmament with gathering shades, That her surpassing beauty never fades ; That slow decay can never waste her forms Of stirring grandeur or serene repose:— Around her sweep the lightning-pinioned storms, Upon her bosom rest the glittering snows, Still she revives, and, undecaying, smiles; Her waters leap in gladness to the sea, ι« See letter of Rev. William Croswell to Park Benjamin, Dec. 26 [1834J, in the Park Benjamin Collection. is See the editor's "Advertisement." See also a letter from Benjamin to Carey and Hart, Philadelphia, Jan. 14, 1839, in which he writes, "I have had some experience, having been for some time editor of Youth's Keepsake and Juvenile Miscellany." (In the Park Benjamin Collection.) [iff]

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Brighter than emeralds gleam her myriad isles, Along her shores, the soft gale wafted free, O'er the vast continent careering, flings Odor and freshness from its balmy wings ! A sonnet of tribute to Samuel Goldsborough, a former College mate, inserted toward the close of the poem, illustrates his ability to use this f o r m also : I breathe one name, because in yonder halls It shed an early and a beauteous light, As softly sweet as that which sometimes falls On a white temple in a silvery night. H e worshipped Learning in her ancient forms, And steeped his mind in farthest classic lore; Study to him was like the sun that warms, And books the rays that did a lustre pour Into his being—but his lamp grew pale ; For he did love old knowledge better far Than Nature's teachings—so his life did fail, As fails the glory of the morning star. Goldsborough ! I knew thee but a few, brief days, Yet knew full well thy worth above all praise. H e r e certainly is a straightforward directness that shows skillful handling and control. I n 1833 appeared a volume in which his touch is even more definite and sure and which indicates, in a way, his position in the esteem of the people of Boston and among the literary leaders of that city. This volume was The Harbinger,le

a book of p o e t r y .

T h e collection represented the j o i n t effort of three friends : P a r k Benjamin, Oliver Wendell Holmes, and John 0 . Sargent. Of the collection, Benjamin contributed the first part, Holmes the second, and Sargent the third. T h e small volume was tastefully bound, f o r it was a g i f t book or "Souvenir," published after the manner of that day to be sold at a f a i r held f o r the benefit of some worthy enterprise. This particular beneficiary was the New England Institution f o r the Education of the Blind; and the ie The Harbinger; a May-Oift (Boston, 1833).

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one who suggested the publication, we are told, was Samuel G. Howe, the philanthropist who had been the originator and founder of the institution. The Harbinger was sold by blind pupils of the school at a fair held at Faneuil Hall, under the chief patronage of Mrs. Harrison Gray Otis, the brilliant leader of Boston society at the time. As a tribute to the patronesses of the fair, the gift book was thus dedicated: "To the ladies who have so kindly aided the New England Institution for the Education of the Blind, The Harbinger is respectfully dedicated." This volume, though so small, is of considerable interest to students of American literature. It is the first published collection of the poems of Oliver Wendell Holmes. Here, among the seventeen poems contributed by him, are some of the best ones he had so far produced : "The Last Leaf," "The Ballad of the Oysterman," "My Aunt," and "To an Insect." The poems of John O. Sargent are now unfortunately forgotten, along with his name, but they compare favorably with the others in the volume. Park Benjamin contributed nineteen poems—three written for the gift book, the others selected as the best of his shorter poems already published; in fact, these early poems, like those of Holmes, are some of the best that Benjamin ever produced. Among those reprinted are "The Departed," "A Flight of Fancy," "To Mary," "The Morning Light," "Hymn to the South West Wind," and his earliest sonnets "Twilight," "The Indian Summer," "Plymouth Rock," and "To a Lady." The poems equal in technical handling those of Holmes, although, to be sure, Holmes's inimitable sense of humor raises his poems to a higher plane. Perhaps the best illustrations of the level of Benjamin's poetic power at this time, showing both the weakness and the strength of his early poetry, may be found in "Farewell," written to close his portion of the collection, and in his sonnet "The Indian Summer." The epilogue "Farewell" follows : Sweet friends, farewell ! the minstrel sings no more Whose notes till now have fallen on your ear ;

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His part is ended, and his task is o'er. As, fading fast his feeble rays appear, To brighter fires he yields the Muses' shrine; Yet lingers fondly on this parting line ! If any j oy within your heart has flowed Like fountain-water in a secret place ; If any beam of happiness has glowed On the clear heaven of some expressive face, While listening to this soon-forgotten strain— He has his recompense and dearest gain. Sad is the music of his humble shell, As echo answers to its last farewell ! 1 7 Immature this p o e t r y certainly is, with its forced tone of sadness and its evident debt to Scott. Yet the verse has an ease and grace to be secured only by much practice and then possible only to one who has a touch of poetic fire. His rhymes especially are sure, showing, as Holmes wrote of him, t h a t "he could extemporize verses with remarkable facility." 18 H e is beginning to know his powers. Moreover, whereas his prose bears the mark of Prentice and of Willis, his p o e t r y is more and more his own. " T h e Indian Summer," one of his earliest sonnets, gives indication of his coming power over this form of poetry. A glimmering haze upon the landscape rests ; The sky has on a softer robe of blue ; And the slant sunbeams glisten mildly through The floating clouds, that lift their pearly crests Mid the pure currents of the upper air. The fields are dressed in Autumn's faded green, And trees no more their clustering foliage wear ; Yet Nature smiles, all lovely and serene. How sweetly breathes this life-inspiring gale, Stirring yon silver lake's transparent wave ! Could we but dream that Winter, coldly pale, Might never o'er this scene of beauty rave, Or touch the waters with his icy spear,— Oh ! would these golden hours be half so dear ? 1 9 " The Harbinger, p. 30. is Letter of Holmes to Mrs. Ferris, Aug. 31, 1888, !» The Harbinger, pp. 17-18.

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D u r i n g t h a t same year Benjamin entered upon an editorial p r o j e c t t h a t was to test his talent as an editor, and especially to set f o r t h his literary ideals and aims. This p r o j e c t was to publish a " L i b r a r y " or series of books. The publication of such a " L i b r a r y " was a popular editorial venture of the period ; books of varied character and content were published in a series, in uniform bindings, under the editorship of someone whose name might give prestige and popularity to the undertaking. T o Benjamin such a p r o j e c t appealed strongly; f o r with his financial means the publication would be independent of public patronage, and he could thus give a considerable degree of surety to the undertaking. Moreover, he no doubt believed t h a t his growing literary reputation might be of some weight in assuring the success of the venture. The choice of the initial volume was a h a p p y one : it was an American edition of The Life of Friedrich Schiller,20 by an "English biographer." This biographer, so ostentatiously veiled in anonymity, was none other than Thomas Carlyle, whose biog r a p h y of Schiller published in London in 1825 Benjamin was thus popularizing in America. Interest in German was then strong in literary America, an interest which had been steadily growing since the return of George Ticknor, George B a n c r o f t , and Edward Everett from Göttingen. T h e interest had been quickened by the coming to H a r v a r d , in 1825, of Charles T . Folien, a German exile, who became Professor of German. His classes a t H a r v a r d and his lectures outside the campus had aroused widespread interest in Germany and its literature. Accordingly, in offering this book to the American people, Benjamin was shrewdly meeting public demand, especially since he chose P r o fessor Folien to edit the American edition. Folien added a P r e f ace, in which he not only praised the life and work of Schiller, but also corrected in scholarly fashion certain errors in the translated German passages of the London edition. This was Benjamin's first venture in a field in which he afterwards became 20 The Life of Friedrich. Schiller (Boston, 1833; from the London edition).

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f a m o u s — t h a t of the republication in America, without the a t t e n d a n t royalties, of popular British works. This first f o r a y as a literary p i r a t e had interesting results, even f o r Carlyle himself. I n a letter dated December 2, 1838, Carlyle requested Emerson to send him two copies of this first American edition of his book, "if the thing is fit f o r making a present of." Emerson complied with the request, 2 1 and it is p a t e n t t h a t P a r k Benjamin's edition 22 was before Carlyle when he issued his second edition of the Life of Schiller in 1845. 2 3 Although Carlyle opened the Preface to this edition with a tirade against literary pirates, a comparison of the two editions shows t h a t he paid tacit tribute to this American p i r a t e of his works by correcting practically all of the errors indicated by Professor Folien and using the improved translations of the American scholar. I n a General Preface a t the beginning of this first volume of the series, Benjamin sets f o r t h his ambitious scheme f o r the p r o j e c t . T h e series is to include original works, translations, and republications of English books of approved character ; each book is, moreover, to be issued under the editorship of some eminent scholar. H e says, In the translations and the original works it is hoped that the talents of learned and popular authors may be engaged. Their subjects will not be prescribed; for it is intended to include in the series, history, biography, and romance,—indeed, all the topics of a pure and elevated literature. . . . The Editor and Publishers confidently anticipate for these books the public favor. It is intended that they shall be valuable, not only for the pure and good literature which they shall contain, but as favorable proofs of the taste, correctness, and beauty with which books may be published in this country. 21

See letter of Carlyle to Emerson, Dec. 2,1838, in Correspondence of Thomas Carlyle and Ralph Waldo Emerson (Boston, 1894), I, 207, and Emerson's answer, I, 241. 22 A reprint of Benjamin's edition of the Life of Schiller, with Preface by Folien, was made by Dearborn and Co. in 1837, and it may have been this edition which Emerson sent to Carlyle. 23 Thomas Carlyle, The Life of Friedrich Schiller (2d ed., London, 1845).

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Benjamin believed strongly in the good taste and good common sense of the American reading public. He accordingly took the opportunity afforded by the General P r e f a c e to launch f o r t h upon a theme upon which he afterwards frequently preached— the right of the author to receive proper compensation f o r his efforts. H e promises t h a t those authors who may contribute to the series shall receive better remuneration f o r their work than has been previously afforded to American writers. "An author is a laborer as worthy as any other of his hire. Let him demand it then,—and, instead of merely enriching his bookseller, obtain necessary comforts or superfluous elegancies, as it may be, f o r himself." Therefore, "the g r e a t object in the publication of this series shall be freely to remunerate authors." He invites the literary profession, accordingly, to submit manuscripts which might be suitable for the series. He believes that the popular rage for temporary publications is declining, and that, with the improvement of taste, a demand for good literature is rising. Furthermore, it is believed that authorship will soon become a distinct profession in this country as it is in Europe,—and that an author will be as readily paid for his book, as a physician for his advice, a lawyer for his pleading, or a clergyman for his sermon. This plea seems to us of a later day as saying an undisputed thing in a very solemn way, but in 1833 the economic position of the professional writer was still precarious. Practically no American writer so f a r , with the possible exception of Irving, had been able to support himself by his writing. Less than a decade before—December 31, 1824—Longfellow's father, writing to him a t college, had said, "A literary life, to one who has the means of support, must be very pleasant. But there is not wealth enough in this country to afford encouragement and p a t r o n a g e to merely literary men." 24 T h e same note was struck by a contemporary of P a r k B e n j a Samuel Longfellow, Life of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 1,56.

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min in the New-England Magazine : " I n the United States, men of literary habits and pursuits, inclined to look to such pursuits as a means of subsistence, have been also obliged to resort to the periodical press as the only medium of making their talents subservient to this important purpose." 2 5 H e r e in the General P r e f a c e we also find set f o r t h those ideals f o r stimulating and promoting the production of a worthy literat u r e in America which governed continually the life of P a r k Benjamin. "If the subscriber could be, however remotely and humbly, the cause of exalting, by one volume, the literature of the age, he would feel amply rewarded." This is the keynote of B e n j amin's position in American literature ; no matter how high or how low we may rank his literary effort, his dream was to be the stimulator and helper of American literature, and he strove as best he could to bring t h a t dream to reality. The Life of Schiller, as well as the whole p r o j e c t of the series, received favorable notice from the critics in American magazines. A reviewer in the New-England Magazine called attention to Benjamin's thesis concerning the proper compensation of authors, and praised the Life of Schiller and the f o r m a t of the volume. The Knickerbocker f o r April, 1834, began its criticism thus : The American literati are not less indebted to Mr. Benjamin for his spirited purpose of furnishing them with a series of works of the highest literary character, than for his happy selection of Schiller's biography as the commencing volume of the series, and the beautiful form in which he has dressed it for their libraries. The selection does much credit to his judgment; and we hail this volume with pleasure, not alone for its individual excellence, but also that it omens happily of what we are in future to expect. The h a p p y omen, however, was not fulfilled, f o r we have no record of any succeeding volumes of the series. The p r o j e c t , notwithstanding its brave beginning, ceased with the first volume. 25 Written by a reviewer of "The Writings of Robert C. Sands," in the New-England Magazine, V I (April, 1834), 333.

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Benjamin found, no doubt, that the American reading public was not so receptive after all, no matter how good the offering to its taste, nor how high the ideals of the editor might be. He therefore wisely gave up his project, for the time being at least, and directed his energies and talents toward a new effort that would advance the literature of his country.

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HIS period of experiment, with its p r o j e c t s t h a t never reached fulfillment, was nevertheless f r u i t f u l in m a n y ways. F o r the vigor and enthusiasm of B e n j a m i n won f o r him the respect and friendship of those who saw in the y o u n g experimenter promising talents and powers. A m o n g those who recognized his capabilities were the editors of the New-England Magazine, in the early thirties the leading magazine in New E n g l a n d ; and t h r o u g h its pages he was able to reach an extensive and select audience. H i s connection with the magazine also revealed his f o r t e ; f o r he was soon t o become not only P a r k B e n j a m i n the poet, b u t also P a r k B e n j a m i n the editor. Time and the steady pressure of circumstance were conspiring to advance his apprenticeship under Prentice and Willis t o w a r d an independent career. H e was a c o n t r i b u t o r to the New-England Magazine p r a c t i cally f r o m its beginning; two of his poems, " H y m n t o the South W e s t W i n d " and " A F l i g h t of F a n c y , " a p p e a r e d in the second number, A u g u s t , 1831. T o this magazine, a f t e r his break with Willis, he t r a n s f e r r e d his allegiance; and t o it he gave his best efforts d u r i n g the f o u r and a half y e a r s of its existence. Of his poems first published in the y e a r s 1 8 3 1 - 1 8 3 5 , about half made their initial a p p e a r a n c e in the New-England Magazine. Moreover, with a few exceptions, they were his best poems. T h u s d u r i n g 1831, in addition to the two poems mentioned, a p p e a r e d , in the December number, " T h e I n d i a n Summer." D u r i n g 1832, the J a n u a r y number contained two poems on one p a g e , one signed IU]

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" Ρ " and the other " B " : " T o M a r y " and " A Brief Farewell"; the M a y number, "Sonnet. T o My Sister" and " H y m n to M a y " ; the J u n e number, "Sabbath Evening." The volumes f o r 1833 contained in J a n u a r y " T h e Tigress," in F e b r u a r y "Sonnet. Plymouth Rock," in March " T h e Morning Light," and in J u l y " T h e Philadelphia L a d y . " Most of these were included in The Harbinger in 1833. When we consider t h a t during these years Benjamin was a law student a t H a r v a r d and then a t Yale, presumably busy with his legal studies, the quantity and the quality of this p o e t r y are noteworthy. During 1834 and 1835, when he was more closely associated with the editorial management of the Magazine, he still found time to write considerable poetry, and contributed regularly to its pages, publishing there all of his sonnets written in these years. George Willis Cooke, in an article in the later New England Magazine on " T h e F i r s t 'New England Magazine' and I t s Edit o r , " 1 states t h a t this was "the first a t t e m p t in New England a t the publication of a popular illustrated magazine devoted to literature in the special sense of t h a t word." 2 W e cannot actually claim so much for it ; it was not the first a t t e m p t , for Willis's American Monthly Magazine antedated it, and there had been other minor attempts, though short-lived and of no special importance. B u t the New-England Magazine was certainly the first sustained a t t e m p t to conduct a popular magazine in New England, and it was the most prominent forerunner there of the Atlantic Monthly. I t was also one of the first of t h a t g r o u p of more permanent literary magazines founded in the years j u s t before 1835. Godey's Lady's Booh, its successful Philadelphia contemporary, had been founded j u s t one year earlier ( J u l y , 1830), and in October, 1830, James Hall's Illinois Monthly Magazine had begun. However, the Knickerbocker, its New York competitor, did not a p p e a r until J a n u a r y , 1833, and the South1 There had been, however, an earlier New-England Magazine, in 1758, edited by Benjamin Mecom. 2 New England Magazine, n.s., X V I (March, 1897), 103-17.

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em Literary Messenger not until August, 1834. Thus the NewEngland Magazine helped to blaze the trail for those periodicals which were to establish themselves as the first great American magazines. The New-England Magazine, moreover, represented an important phase in the development of the magazine in America, for it was one of the first to break away from the review type of periodical and to attempt to present a lighter, more popular form of reading. Under the influence of the British periodicals, which were widely read in America and from which many articles were reprinted in the newspapers and magazines of this country, the earlier American magazines had been collections of solid reviews, essays, and treatises on substantial political and religious subjects. There were few poems, no narratives except rather ponderous travel sketches, and very little material of popular interest. Before 1825 practically all American magazines were of the review type. In 1815 the North American Review had started on its long and valuable career. This periodical followed closely the British pattern and, because of the worth and reputation of its first editors and contributors, its foundation was sound and safe. By the time the New-England Magazine was established, the future of the North American Review was assured. In Philadelphia the American Quarterly Review likewise began, in 1827, its decade of useful effort. And there were other reviews of minor value. But the more astute editors saw that there was a place for a type of periodical that would make a more general appeal to the unscholarly but rapidly growing and intellectually eager reading public. Accordingly all the magazines of the new group just mentioned—those beginning in the early thirties—strove to make their numbers attractive and popular. In the development of the New-England Magazine we may trace quite definitely this evolution from the British review to a form which was to become, with only slight modification, the popular American magazine as we know it today. The New-England Magazine was first issued in July, 1831. I t U«]

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owed its origin to Edwin Buckingham, son of Joseph T. Buckingham, a newspaper editor of Boston. 3 The project had long been an ambition of the young man when, in April, 1831, he made plans to realize his cherished dream. Illness, however, prevented him from giving of his best to the work, for by that time tuberculosis, soon to bring his brilliant career to an end, was already gaining a firm hold on him. As a result, he could give personal supervision to only two volumes and part of a third. On October 2 , 1 8 3 2 , he set sail for Smyrna in a brave attempt to fight off the dread disease. But the fight was in vain; he died on the return voyage, on May 1 8 , 1 8 3 3 . After this tragic event his father, an editor of long experience, carried on the publication of the Magazine. His intention to do so was thus stated in the opening pages of the July, 1833, number. It is a poignant human document: RETROSPECTION. Chance and change are busy ever; Man decays Two years have now passed away from the calendar of Time since the first number of the New-England Magazine was presented to the public,—a candidate for their approbation,—and with them one of its editors has also passed away from the face of the Earth. The intelligence of this event was received while the last sheet of the last number was passing through the press. The period and the occasion seem to demand a brief explanation. The New-England Magazine was the offspring and the property of E D W I N B U C K I N G H A M . In projecting the work, the idea of making money was no part of the consideration. The elder of the editors had previously had sufficient experience in the publication of literary periodicals to enable him to feel how uncertain and delusive are all calculations of that sort. The other was just then passing that point in age where the law sets up a distinction between the man and the minor—ardent, ambitious, active, and panting for a pecuniary independence that should correspond in some measure to the fearless moral and intellectual independence, which had, from the days of childhood, been an imposing and distinctive trait in his character. s Joseph T. Buckingham, Personal Memoirs and Recollections Life (Boston, 1852), II, 65-77.

of

Editorial

U

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He had, already, for several years, been co-editor of a daily newspaper—an employment that is usually supposed to demand labor enough, of both mental and physical powers, to relax the assiduity of an ordinarily industrious individual ; but for HIM something more was needed,—and he sought this,—as a field for improvement in the pleasanter departments of literature, for the cultivation of a better taste, and for the development of faculties, that have no kindred with the noise and bustle of trade and the turbulence of politics. Such was the origin of this Magazine. No promises were made, to win the favor of the public, except that it should be continued for one year, in order that none, who contracted to receive it for that period, should be disappointed. It has not failed to make its appearance on the first day of every month for two years; consequently no pledge was given that has not been amply redeemed. But HE, by whom and for whom the Magazine has existed, is no more. Brief as its term has been, it has yet outlived its parent. In consequence of his declining health, for more than a year, the responsibility of conducting it has rested solely on the senior editor. It has met with all the favor that was expected—it has escaped the perils of earliest infancy, and is able to go alone. The surviving editor feels that natural affection, as well as duty to its generous friends, will not permit him to desert it now. It will, therefore, be continued by him.4 The Magazine was continued with success. From the very beginning the Buckinghams had striven to free it from the domination of the prevalent review-article. In "To Correspondents," in the number for November, 1831, the editors had said : Long and elaborate essays in the form of reviews, bearing the title of some new or popular work for a basis, are not embraced in the views and purposes of the editors of this Magazine. Its limits necessarily exclude them. Such articles correspond better with the size and objects of the quarterly reviews; and if we have departed from a general rule in filling up the pages of the present number, it has been done for reasons which appeared satisfactory, but which will not often occur, and which it is altogether unnecessary to explain.6 Although long, solid articles won their way into the Magazine from time to time, in general the contributions were increasingly 4 New-England Magazine, V (July, 1833), 1-2. e Ibid., I (November, 1831), 456.

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shorter and more popular in tone. The steady growth of interest was secured by attracting contributors of a quality not ordinarily assembled about the other magazine ventures of that day. Under Edwin Buckingham the Magazine had attracted writers not only of New England but from other parts of the country as well. These contributors continued their allegiance under the elder Buckingham. In December, 1833, the American Monthly Review was merged in the New-England Magazine,6 thus adding the group allied to that review. Longfellow contributed "The Schoolmaster," installments of the sketch appearing at intervals throughout the first four volumes, and also some verse. Whittier contributed prose articles, such as " T h e Nervous Man," "Passaconaway," and "The Opium E a t e r , " and some poems, among them "The Song of the Vermonters" and "A Lament." Holmes contributed many of his earlier, and best, poems, among them " T o an Insect," "My Aunt," "The Dilemma," and "The Comet." Here also appeared, in November, 1831, and February, 1832, the first two numbers of "The Autocrat of the Breakfast Table," a series to be resumed twenty-five years later in the first number of the Atlantic Monthly. Among other contributors were Edward Everett, George S. Hillard, Hannah F . Gould, Samuel G. Howe, Epes Sargent, and Matthew Carey, of names still remembered ; and there were many others whose names are now forgotten. All in all, they represented the best literary effort of New England plus some of the best from the country at large. The assistance of such a group should have given courage to any editor ; but Buckingham, broken by the death of his son, conducted the Magazine in only a half-hearted manner. The preparation of the "Monthly Record," the résumé of news, proceedings, obituary notices, and so on, at the end of each number, consumed more time than he could spare from the duties of his See American Monthly Review, IV (December, 1833) ; see also Prospectus of the New-England Magazine in the American Monthly Magazine, V (August, 1835). 6

im

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newspaper, the Boston Courier. Friends assisted him in p r e p a r ing the book reviews and in some of the other editorial work; but his offer of a dollar a page for contributions brought him manuscripts from all over the country, the reading of which entailed toil and care. In addition to these duties, he also wrote some of the "original" contributions. 7 Finally, "worn out with the double duty of conducting a monthly magazine and a daily newspaper," he reluctantly gave up the former task. In November, 1834, he t r a n s f e r r e d the ownership as well as editorial control of the Magazine to Samuel G. Howe and J o h n O. Sargent, these two men gaining complete control with the number f o r December, 1834. They had been contributors practically f r o m the first number, and had been in editorial control of the November, 1834, number. The new editors gave fresh life to the Magazine. The f o r m a t was improved by the use of better type and by a more attractive and readable page ; it was decidedly more pleasing in appearance. Likewise, the material was made more literary and more popular in tone ; lengthy book reviews and disquisitions upon such topics as religion and n a t u r a l science gave way to personal sketches and stories. A lively sketch by J o h n Neal opened the first issue of 1835. Moreover, the editors attempted to give to the Magazine individuality and personality. The deliberate cloak of anonymity which had covered the identity of the contributors was now withdrawn. Articles were now signed—although frequently by a nom de plume. Both Howe and Sargent, however, were busy men, Howe with his philanthropic work, Sargent with his various literary and legal affairs. Accordingly they found the added labor of editing a magazine an onerous burden. They had entered upon their task with commendable zeal and enthusiasm, but they soon discovered t h a t zeal and enthusiasm, no matter how sincere, will not suffice to conduct a magazine, and the ardor of both cooled off somewhat before the accumulating labor of editorial work. Soon τ Buckingham, Personal Memoirs, pp. 65-77.

[sol

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assistance was needed, and needed badly. I t was then t h a t they called to their aid the editorial talents of P a r k Benjamin. Benjamin \vas now ripe for j u s t such an opportunity, for he was in a position to undertake a sustained piece of work. From his father's estate he had received a comfortable inheritance. H e had set sail in October, 1833, f o r Demerara, to bring to a satisfactory settlement his interests there. He had planned the voyage with considerable trepidation—his will made a t t h a t time is e x t a n t — f o r a sea voyage in those days into the region of tropical storms was attended with some danger. In spite of these direful premonitions, the journey was very p l e a s a n t ; he found his affairs in Demerara so well managed by a cousin, Charles A. Benjamin, t h a t the survey of his interests caused but little annoyance. Accordingly what had been planned as a business t r i p became a comfortable vacation in tropical lands and seas. He had abundant opportunity to dream and to meditate his muse amid the beauty of the tropics, and to gain a new perspective for his future. He returned to America in May, 1834, refreshed in mind and body, and eager to find an interest to which he might give his best effort. Benjamin's position was thus f o r t u n a t e and h a p p y . His means—not nowadays, of course, to be considered a fortune—· were in those days considered more than ample. He had, as we have noted, an assured social position in Boston, with acquaintances and friends among the leaders of society. H e was a very p a r t of the literary g r o u p of Boston ; his association with the rising literary men and women of New England was very close, and among them were some of his warmest friends. H e was well known as a litterateur and friend of all literary men and movements. F o r the complimentary benefit given to John Howard Payne, in the Tremont T h e a t r e on April 3,1833, Benjamin wrote a poem of eulogy spoken by Mrs. George H . B a r r e t t . As a poet and writer he was now well p a s t the period of his apprenticeship ; his poems had been accepted by some of the best literal·}7 periodicals of New England, and he was praised as a poet of rising [51]

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power. His various literary and editorial activities had broadened his experience; his standards of criticism were becoming definite, his taste was sound and sane, and his literary ideals were of the highest. Hence it was n a t u r a l t h a t Howe and Sargent should look to him f o r assistance. Moreover, his editorial connection with the New-England Magazine had from its beginning probably been closer t h a n we know—or, in f a c t , than the readers of the Magazine a t t h a t time knew. H e had, it seems, assisted the Buckinghams in various ways ; certain of the book reviews show themselves to be unmistakably his work. He continued his close editorial relations with the Magazine when it came under the control of the new proprietors, f o r by December, 1834, he is known as one of the editors. 8 I t is also probable t h a t his interest in the Magazine was one of p a r t i a l business control. About this same time he and Epes Sargent had projected a magazine to be called the United States' Magazine. Whether or not it was ever published we do not know; but its interests were, we know, merged with those of the New-England Magazine,9 As literary editor he seems to have had charge principally of the book reviews ; but he also had, no doubt, p a r t of the general control of the Magazine, his duties varying with the amount of attention which the two chief editors could give to the work. The outside interests, really the prime interests, of Howe and Sargent became increasingly insistent in their demands, so t h a t more and more of the editorial management devolved upon Benjamin. Accordingly when, in F e b r u a r y , 1835, the two editors came to the conclusion t h a t their editorial duties were too arduous f o r them and decided to give up their short-lived control of the Magazine, it was inevitable t h a t their j o i n t editorial mantle should fall most fittingly upon the waiting shoulders of 8 See letter of Edward Everett to Park Benjamin, dated Dec. 17, 1834. (In the Park Benjamin Collection.) »See American Monthly Magazine, V (August, 1835).

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P a r k Benjamin. W i t h the issue for March, 1835, he became owner and editor of the New-England Magazine, thus taking his place as the leading magazine editor of New England and, in f a c t , among the leading editors of America. On March 1, 1835, he wrote to J . G. Percival : You have probably learned from the newspapers that Dr. Howe and Mr. Sargent have relinquished their proprietorship and the management of the Ν. E. Magazine to myself. I cannot hope that a name so humble as my own may have ever reached your ears :—-but my father was a former resident in New Haven, and I have been from my youth up an ardent admirer of your poetry. It will give me great pleasure to be assured of your willingness to continue your valuable contributions to the Magazine on the same terms which you mentioned to Dr. Howe. 10 Benjamin strove to continue the revived spirit of the Magazine. H e endeavored to keep on a high level the quality of the contributions. The first number under his control opened with P a r t I of John Greenleaf Whittier's " M o g g Megone," here appearing f o r the first time. This number also contained H a n n a h F. Gould's " T h e Rose in W i n t e r , " John Neal's "Will the W i z a r d , " and Nathaniel Hawthorne's "Old News. No. I I , " appearing anonymously. These four items should certainly have been sufficient to give significance to any single number of a magazine of t h a t day. B u t there were in addition two well-written travel sketches, one of New York in "Doings in the Metropolis," and one of Italian travel, "Cities. No. I I . " There was a familiar essay, " T h e A r t of Packing," weightier articles on George Crabbe and Daniel Webster, and an essay on phrenology. I n the " E d i t o r ' s Correspondence" the editor defended the last-named essay : As far as our own acquaintance with phrenology extends, we are devout believers in its doctrines—true disciples of the Spurzheim school, warm advocates for the truths which it professes to teach. We cannot discover in its principles any incompatibility with religious belief, and we do not think that the charge of materialism io In the Park Benjamin Collection.

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could be brought against it, with conscientiousness, by any one who had given to the subject that candid investigation which its importance demands. I n his "Politics and Statistics" column he supported Webster's candidacy f o r the Presidency, thus allying the Magazine with the Whig cause. The succeeding numbers sustained this high level of editorship. F r a n k L. M o t t , the most recent historian of the American magazine, says, " I n the ten issues which he [ P a r k B e n j a m i n ] edited, the New-England Magazine reached its highest literary importance." 11 The prose compositions were of high grade. He continued to p r i n t excellent travel sketches, among which Albert Pike's "Letters from Arkansas. No. I . , " in the October, 1835, number, was a notable contribution. He lightened every issue with clever familiar essays. H e presented a series of well-written brief biographies of United States Senators such as Everett, Ewing, Sprague, Kent, and Southard. He continued his defense of the W h i g cause, and in two vigorous articles defended the Ursuline Nuns, whose convent a t Mount Benedict, Charlestown, Massachusetts, had been burned by a mob incited by a young woman's story of her treatment there. Likewise the poetry was of excellent quality. Among the contributors were Whittier, Percival, and Mrs. Sigourney, as well as Epes Sargent, H e n r y T . Tuckerman, Isaac McLellan, and Grenville Mellen among the lesser names. P a r k Benjamin himself wrote for the Magazine and gave to his contributions his very best powers. H e contributed ambitious articles in prose, also such poems as " S p r i n g S t a n z a s " and the song "Blow, Gentle Gale." His sonnets, all of which appeared in the Magazine, were now showing the finish resulting from constant practice. T h e following sonnet, published in 1835, exemplifies his control over the form. I t also expresses one of the ruling passions of his life. li A History of American Magazines, 1741-1850 (New York, 1930), p. 602.

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Oh, that along the rolling waves of Time My memory might be w a f t e d — a n d my name, Mingled forever with harmonious rhyme, Swell some faint cadence from the t r u m p of F a m e ! Could I such refuge from oblivion claim, And know my lyre could yield some living tone; Then, all unconscious of the praise or blame, Which o'er my deeds the Present may have thrown, I should be happy in my waking dream, My dream of Fame ! one star would be mine own, I n beauty from the Future's sky to gleam— One scarce-heard voice be mine, and mine alone. Though dark the storm o'er Being's changeful sea, That light would shine, that music sound for me ! A g l a n c e a t t h e e d i t o r i a l sections shows t h a t B e n j a m i n was s t r i v i n g to give a definite t o n e t o t h e Magazine.

U n d e r the influ-

ence of the B r i t i s h m a g a z i n e s — o w i n g , as did Blackwood's,

for

i n s t a n c e , t h e i r p o p u l a r i t y t o the m a n n e r in which t h e y set f o r t h t h e p e r s o n a l i t y a n d p e r s o n a l opinion of t h e i r e d i t o r s — h e s t r o v e v a l i a n t l y t o give t o his m a g a z i n e a p e r s o n a l i t y , t o m a k e it set f o r t h s o m e t h i n g of his s p i r i t . Besides, his connection with W i l lis's p e r s o n a l i t y - s a t u r a t e d American

Monthly

Magazine

h a d led

him t o t h i n k t h a t t h e A m e r i c a n r e a d i n g public m i g h t welcome such e d i t o r i a l i n t i m a c y . H e a t t e m p t e d first t o establish f r a n k a n d f r i e n d l y r e l a t i o n s with his r e a d e r s . H e published in his first n u m b e r , u n d e r " E d i t o r ' s C o r r e s p o n d e n c e , " l e t t e r s f r o m corr e s p o n d e n t s criticizing f a v o r a b t y or u n f a v o r a b l y t h e c o n t r i b u tions t o the Magazine

or its c o n d u c t in g e n e r a l , a n d he a d d e d his

own answers t o these criticisms. T h i s is a m e t h o d used, indeed, m a n y times since f o r the same p u r p o s e by e d i t o r s of A m e r i c a n m a g a z i n e s . H e also s o u g h t to achieve a m o r e i n t i m a t e c o n t a c t with his c o n t r i b u t o r s . I n his first n u m b e r he a d d e d " A Brief E p i s t l e " t o his " T r u s t y a n d well-beloved c o r r e s p o n d e n t s , " in which he f a c e t i o u s l y g r e e t s his c o n t r i b u t o r s , a n d dismisses some of them : We greet you all. While we wish you length of days, we deprecate your length of articles. We solemnly assure you, that if your papers

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must occupy over ten blessed pages of the eighty or ninety, which are our monthly dole, nobody will read them but yourselves and your maiden aunts. Sweet bardlings ! spare us, we beseech you ! Read the verses we print—the melodious strains that float around us—must they give place to such wren-like chirpings as yours ? Y e may be pretty birds, but ye are not birds of song. " H a r p of the H i l l s " ! P r ' y thee ! H a n g thyself on the willow, or on any other tree which may be more convenient. A n d there is more in the same strain. H e r e , c e r t a i n l y , the sophomoric cleverness of W i l l i s has n o t h a d a s a l u t a r y influence u p o n B e n j a m i n ' s c r i t i c a l manner. N o t a l w a y s , however, was his c r i t i c a l comment so f a c e t i o u s ; of genuine w o r t h he w a s more j u s t l y a p p r e c i a t i v e . T o a n o t h e r contributor

he

writes

in

the

same

letter:

"'Unavoidably

deferred !' h a s been w r i t t e n on the spirited t r a n s l a t i o n of Schiller's H y m n t o J o y . W i l l the p o e t p a r d o n such d e l a y ? " T h e n the closing sentences of the letter strive t o heal all h u r t s and t o make all r i g h t : Trusty and well-beloved correspondents: I f you find yourselves among the great accepted, thank your good talents more than our good taste; if among the "great rejected," blame, rather than your deficiency of good talents, the deficiency of good taste in—your bounden servant, EDITOR.

Given at our Sanctum, from our arm-chair, this twentieth day of February, in the fourth year of the Magazine, and the forty-fifth number. T h i s p e r s o n a l c h a t with his c o n t r i b u t o r s g a v e rise t o a more ambitious a t t e m p t in the n e x t n u m b e r : his " C a b i n e t Councils, N o . I . " T h i s was an A m e r i c a n a d a p t a t i o n of the " N o c t e s A m b r o s i a n a e " of Blackwood's. his American

Monthly;

W i l l i s h a d used a similar a d a p t a t i o n in such editorial devices h a d also been used

b y other magazines, as indeed t h e y have been used f r e q u e n t l y since. W e are conducted into the v e r y s a n c t u m s a n c t o r u m of the [66]

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office a n d m a d e a silent p a r t n e r in t h e discussion t h e r e of difficulties a n d of p l a n s a n d p u r p o s e s . H e r e t h e " E d i t o r , " t h r o u g h t h e medium of clever d i a l o g u e , holds council with his a s s i s t a n t s , "Singleton," "Berkeley," and "Vanderblunt." Excerpts are read f r o m satisfied, o r dissatisfied, r e a d e r s a n d c o n t r i b u t o r s , a c c o m p a n i e d b y c o m m e n t as s p i r i t e d — a n d sometimes as c a u s t i c — a s one is led t o believe c h a r a c t e r i z e s discussion in t h e i n n e r e d i t o r i a l office of a m a g a z i n e . A l o n g with t h e e d i t o r i a l r e m a r k s t h e r e is a r u n n i n g c o m m e n t u p o n p r o p o s e d a r t i c l e s , a n d u p o n such timely t o p i c s as c u r r e n t d r a m a a n d politics. A n e x c e r p t f r o m " C a b i n e t Councils, N o . I " will i l l u s t r a t e t h e g e n e r a l t o n e of t h e discussion. The Editor, with two members of his Cabinet, discovered in session. The centre-table is strewn with a variety of books, pamphlets, and newspapers. EDITOR.

You perceive, Captain Singleton, that the audience-room has been newly fitted up, since you were here. The old arm-chair has been exchanged for one of more generous proportions. The ottomans are a present from our friend, the Sultan. The Apollo, in the corner, is one of the best casts, that Florence could contribute; and the new landscape, over the sofa, so f a i t h f u l l y illustrative of our American autumnal scenery, is, I feel proud to say it, by an American artist, Doughty. SINGLETON.

Everything arranged in admirable taste, 'pon honor. But those ruby-colored curtains throw an unnecessary tinge upon our faces. You only need some broken specimens of statuary, a truncated column, a few Venuseses, a Laocoon, a gladiator and a torso, to make your room a perfect counterpart to Sir Thomas Lawrence's study. But, speaking of Doughty, has he not lately been at Washington? A n d t h e t a l k t u r n s t o D o u g h t y a n d a r t . A b o y s t a g g e r s in u n d e r t h e weight of a bushel b a s k e t of mail, which he p l a c e s a t t h e f e e t of t h e E d i t o r . F r o m t h e l e t t e r s , some a r e r e a d which criticize a d v e r s e l y t h e c o n t e n t of t h e Magazine or its conduct. T o a n a p p e a l t o t a k e sides w i t h one of t h e p o l i t i c a l p a r t i e s , t h e E d i t o r eloquently d e c l a r e s t h e p o l i t i c a l independence of his m a g azine :

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EDITOR.

H a r k you, Singleton ; and you, Berkeley ; at each ear a listener. W e are no partizan. We are no editor of a partizan work. We do not admit, t h a t we are under p a r t y influences. But, as a conductor of a public j o u r n a l ; as a pretty close observer of passing events; as one, aloof from the arena, but watchful of the combatants—we do not hesitate publicly to speak our sympathies and our opinions. W e will not attempt to argue the question, whether a Magazine be the fit place for political disquisitions; but we do say, that where we are brought in direct communication with a portion of the public, we shall not hesitate to speak out, fearlessly and independently, on all matters of public interest, which may f a l l under our especial notice. W e are not to be diffuse upon one subject, and tongue-tied upon another. As a citizen of this great republic, we have, in its welfare, a deep, an affectionate interest, which is confined to no separate department, to no peculiar class of its inhabitants. We revere its Constitution; we respect its laws. (Cries of 'Hear him! Hear him!' from Berkeley.) We have no disposition to be silent, when we behold the former violated and the latter defied. W e honor its rising literature, and will not, without expostulation, see it disgraced. To hasten to a conclusion—we shall speak our minds upon men and things; upon professions and places; in fact, de omnibus rebus et quibusdam aliis, as often as to us may seem proper, and in such language as may most forcibly convey our meaning to those, whom it may concern. O t h e r l e t t e r s , p r a i s i n g t h e Magazine, d r a w f o r t h t h e i r meed of a d d e d p r a i s e f r o m t h e E d i t o r . V a n d e r b l u n t , t h e t h i r d a s s i s t a n t , a p p e a r s , f r e s h f r o m W a s h i n g t o n , with a d e s c r i p t i o n of t h e close of C o n g r e s s . T h e v i s i t o r t h e n d e s c a n t s u p o n women in politics a n d a t t a c k s t h e A d m i n i s t r a t i o n in W a s h i n g t o n . T h e t a l k t u r n s t o S h e r i d a n Knowles, t h e E n g l i s h a c t o r a n d p l a y w r i g h t , t h e n in A m e r i c a , a n d t h e desire is expresed t o h a v e him p r e s e n t a c o u r s e of l e c t u r e s in B o s t o n — a n a d v e r t i s e m e n t in disguise, f o r B e n j a m i n was a t t h i s time v e r y m u c h i n t e r e s t e d in such a n e n t e r p r i s e . T h e n t h e t a l k dwindles a w a y , a n d t h e Council ends in t h e f o l l o w i n g f a n c i f u l scene : ( The Editor is here seen to clap his hands. Immediately a strain of soft music is heard, which gradually grows louder and louder. The folding-doors open slowly. A table is seen, glistening with glasses,

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and elegantly supplied. Vanderblunt rubs his hands. The Editor takes his seat, at the head of the table. The audience-room, is deserted; and the folding-doors close, as the music concludes, in a full diapason.) A l l this is a v e r y weak imitation of the " N o c t e s , " to be sure. M o r e o v e r , it carries on the f o r c e d , artificial mock-cleverness of W i l l i s ' s earlier a t t e m p t a t the same t h i n g ; B e n j a m i n is obviously still under the influence of W i l l i s ' s ecstasies in the Monthly

Magazine.

England

Magazine

No

American

doubt, t o o , the readers of the

New-

realized the amateurishness of it as much as

we do ; it is the cleverness of a y o u n g m a n — r e m e m b e r t h a t P a r k B e n j a m i n was only t w e n t y - f i v e — a n d it lacks the a u t h o r i t y and charm, as it lacks the genius, of " C h r i s t o p h e r N o r t h " and the " E t t r i c k S h e p h e r d . " T h e readers evidently did not receive the experiment with f a v o r , f o r in " C a b i n e t Councils, N o . I I "

we

catch a seemingly reflected note of dissatisfaction, and with the second essay of the sort the experiment ended. T h e readers were interested, quite p r o b a b l y , more in the contributions Magazine

to

the

and less in the cleverness of the y o u n g e d i t o r than he

had a t first supposed. A less artificial, but j u s t as personal, tone is f o u n d in the book reviews and criticisms, which occupied a prominent place in each issue. H e r e B e n j a m i n was on a surer f o o t i n g , f o r he was developing a keen power of analysis in things literal·}*, and his e d i t o r i a l t r a i n i n g and wide reading had given him a deep and a catholic taste and p e n e t r a t i n g j u d g m e n t . H e was f a s t winning récognition as a reviewer. I n J a n u a r y , 1835, he contributed to the North

American

James Sheridan

Review

Knorcles,

a review of the Select

Works

of

an article t h a t received f a v o r a b l e com-

ment f r o m the editors of c o n t e m p o r a r y magazines. H e was at this time a close f r i e n d of the English a c t o r and t h e r e f o r e was qualified as no other was t o w r i t e an intelligent criticism of Knowles's d r a m a t i c work. H i s reviews were g e n e r a l l y rccognized as h a v i n g depth and acumen, but they were also marked, and to a certain extent m a r r e d , by his cut-and-thrust manner. I t might

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be said in his favor, however, that he was no respecter of persons ; the great received no favors, and all inept writing received the sting of his ridicule. He thus sums up a dramatic work by an American author (the criticism, though unsigned, is undoubtedly his) : We have written bad prose in our day, very bad, and no inconsiderable quantity of bad verse. We have read bad prose and bad verse written by other people ; rather worse, we think, than we have ever been guilty of ourselves. But of all the verse and prose, that was ever written, read, or imagined, we think the volume before us furnishes the most melancholy specimens. We need not multiply examples ; another typical one, which will suffice to show his critical methods, is his criticism of Cooper's The Monikins, the reviewer's contribution to the general condemnation aroused by the appearance of that unfortunate satire : There is no living author who has been treated uniformly with more kindness and forbearance than J. Fenimore Cooper, the author of the "Spy." For his grand and original conceptions—for the "Spy," "Pilot," "Pioneers," "Red Rover," "Water-Witch," &c., although deformed by various unsightly defects, he has received ample praise, from critics and the public. They have generously overlooked a clumsy and forced style, a disregard of probability in the construction of plots, and a vast quantity of colloquial stupidity and twaddle, in consideration of certain beauties which serve to diversify the pages of these works. But, of late, the powers of our author appear to have been rapidly declining. The "Bravo" was worse than any of its predecessors; and the "Heidenmauer," and "Headsman," baffled the exertions of many a professed novel-reader. Now comes the "Monikins." It is worse, incredible as this may seem, than Cooper's "Letter to his Countrymen." After a résumé of the plot, he adds : . . . In conclusion, we cannot help expressing the opinion, that no one—who has, like ourselves, read the five hundred pages of the "Monikins," struggling throughout with the drowsiness and disgust, which cannot fail to influence the reader—will ever be tempted to take up any future work bearing "the author of the Spy" on the title-page—fhat misguided and mistaken personage (we understand [60]

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that he is not old enough to be superannuated) having made a complete wreck of what reputation he possessed in the two volumes which our duty compelled us to peruse.12 F o r real merit, on the other hand, Benjamin had the greatest respect and admiration, and no other reviewer was readier to grant the meed of praise to a deserving writer. After reading The Yemassee, he said of its author, William Gilmore Simms : . . . Guy Rivers was as good a book, to say the least, as most of Cooper's novels; and the Yemassee is superior, in plot, style, and execution, to the Last of the Mohicans, which is held by many to be "the American Scott's" chef d'oeuvre. The inimitable Leather Stocking stands alone ; but, in general conception of character, Mr. Simms takes the lead.13 Of Irving he said, in a review of the second p a r t of The Crayon Miscellany : What a rich glow of imagination and poetry does Irving throw over all the productions of his pen ! How humane and gentle the spirit that breathes from every page ! How pure, graphic, and musical, the flow of his superb language ! How delicate the turn of his thoughts ! How magical the effect of his fitly-chosen epithets ! It is honorable to the good taste of our age and country, that the beautiful creations of his genius are hailed with universal enthusiasm, and read with unbounded delight. Long may he continue to hold the high place assigned to him in the world of letters, and to sway his mighty influence for the beneficent purpose of exalting the taste, enlivening the imagination, and awakening all the kindly sympathies of his countrymen.14 He also deplored the fact that Holmes was so careless of his fame ; that his poems were published all over the country without, or over other, signature ; thus they "have made a reputation for many a starveling bard." 15 In fact, to all sincere writers he gave unstinted praise and due credit ; he had absolute faith in everyone who was really trying to help build up a creditable literature in this country. 12 New-England Magazine, IX (August, 1835), 136-37. is Ibid., VIII (June, 1835), 489. « Ibid., IX (July, 1835), 75. is Ibid., IX (October, 1835), 305.

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But probably the greatest critical service of Park Benjamin to American letters was to bring to light, through an introduction to a regular reading public, the shy, bashful genius of Nathaniel Hawthorne. Before 1834 Hawthorne had published his stories and sketches anonymously or under various pseudonyms and almost entirely through the annuals, the gift books issued usually at Christmas time ; his readers were confined largely to the subscribers of The Token and Atlantic Souvenir, Samuel G. Goodrich's annual, and to the fortunate recipients of that souvenir. Hawthorne had bravely but not skillfully struggled to obtain a wider hearing; how difficult the task had been is well known to every student of American literature. Late in 1834 Goodrich took the opening chapters of "The Story Teller" to the editors of the New-England Magazine— Howe, Sargent, and, as we know, Benjamin. They accepted the chapters ; these were "Passages from a Relinquished Work" and "Mr. Higginbotham's Catastrophe." Thus began the steady periodical publication, and the resultant wider reputation, of Nathaniel Hawthorne. 16 No doubt Benjamin had proffered a helping hand in urging the acceptance of these chapters, for he had become an admirer of the diffident author, 1 7 who returned a faith in the young editor. Benjamin's pseudo-legal office was, we are told, one of the few haunts of the retiring and unsocial Hawthorne. When Benjamin became owner and editor of the Magazine, he accepted Hawthorne's manuscripts in quantity and published them rapidly, sometimes two or three in a single issue. Thus Hawthorne's stories and sketches were now for the first time receiving wide and frequent attention. In addition to publishing so generously the work of Hawthorne, Benjamin also gave him favorable critical notice whenNina E. Browne, in A Bibliography of Nathaniel Hawthorne (Boston, 1905), p. 40, lists one earlier contribution to the New-England Magazine: "Hints to Young Ambition," signed "H," in the number for June, 1832 (Vol. II, pp. 513-14). ir He had included one of Hawthorne's stories, "Little Annie's Ramble," in the Youth's Keepsake for 1835.

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