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something of what was most touching and most amusing； in the burly…burly
of Chicago。
III。
A survey of this sort imparts no just sense of the facts； and I own that
I am impatient of merely naming authors and books that each tempt me to
an expansion far beyond the limits of this essay； for； if I may be so
personal； I have watched the growth of our literature in Americanism with
intense sympathy。 In my poor way I have always liked the truth； and in
times past I am afraid that I have helped to make it odious to those who
believed beauty was something different； but I hope that I shall not now
be doing our decentralized literature a disservice by saying that its
chief value is its honesty； its fidelity to our decentralized life。
Sometimes I wish this were a little more constant； but upon the whole I
have no reason to complain； and I think that as a very interested
spectator of New York I have reason to be content with the veracity with
which some phases of it have been rendered。 The lightning…or the flash…
light； to speak more accuratelyhas been rather late in striking this
ungainly metropolis； but it has already got in its work with notable
effect at some points。 This began； I believe； with the local dramas of
Mr。 Edward Harrigan； a species of farces； or sketches of character；
loosely hung together； with little sequence or relevancy； upon the thread
of a plot which would keep the stage for two or three hours。 It was very
rough magic； as a whole； but in parts it was exquisite； and it held the
mirror up towards politics on their social and political side； and gave
us East…Side typesIrish； German； negro； and Italianwhich were
instantly recognizable and deliciously satisfying。 I never could
understand why Mr。 Harrigan did not go further； but perhaps he had gone
far enough； and； at any rate； he left the field open for others。 The
next to appear noticeably in it was Mr。 Stephen Crane； whose Red Badge of
Courage wronged the finer art which he showed in such New York studies as
Maggie： A Girl of the Streets； and George's Mother。 He has been followed
by Abraham Cahan； a Russian Hebrew； who has done portraits of his race
and nation with uncommon power。 They are the very Russian Hebrews of
Hester Street translated from their native Yiddish into English； which
the author mastered after coming here in his early manhood。 He brought
to his work the artistic qualities of both the Slav and the Jew； and in
his 'Jekl： A Story of the Ghetto'； he gave proof of talent which his more
recent book of sketches'The Imported Bride groom'confirms。 He sees
his people humorously； and he is as unsparing of their sordidness as he
is compassionate of their hard circumstance and the somewhat frowsy
pathos of their lives。 He is a Socialist； but his fiction is wholly
without 〃tendentiousness。〃
A good many years agoten or twelve； at leastMr。 Harry Harland had
shown us some politer New York Jews； with a romantic coloring； though
with genuine feeling for the novelty and picturesqueness of his material；
but I do not think of any one who has adequately dealt with our Gentile
society。 Mr。 James has treated it historically in Washington Square； and
more modernly in some passages of The Bostonians； as well as in some of
his shorter stories； Mr。 Edgar Fawcett has dealt with it intelligently
and authoritatively in a novel or two； and Mr。 Brander Matthews has
sketched it； in this aspect； and that with his Gallic cleverness；
neatness； and point。 In the novel； 'His Father's Son'； he in fact faces
it squarely and renders certain forms of it with masterly skill。 He has
done something more distinctive still in 'The Action and the Word'； one
of the best American stories I know。 But except for these writers； our
literature has hardly taken to New York society。
IV。
It is an even thing： New York society has not taken to our literature。
New York publishes it； criticises it； and circulates it； but I doubt if
New York society much reads it or cares for it； and New York is therefore
by no means the literary centre that Boston once was； though a large
number of our literary men live in or about New York。 Boston； in my time
at least； had distinctly a literary atmosphere； which more or less
pervaded society； but New York has distinctly nothing of the kind； in any
pervasive sense。 It is a vast mart； and literature is one of the things
marketed here； but our good society cares no more for it than for some
other products bought and sold here； it does not care nearly so much for
books as for horses or for stocks； and I suppose it is not unlike the
good society of any other metropolis in this。 To the general； here；
journalism is a far more appreciable thing than literature； and has
greater recognition； for some very good reasons； but in Boston literature
had vastly more honor； and even more popular recognition； than
journalism。 There journalism desired to be literary； and here literature
has to try hard not to be journalistic。 If New York is a literary centre
on the business side； as London is； Boston was a literary centre； as
Weimar was； and as Edinburgh was。 It felt literature； as those capitals
felt it； and if it did not love it quite so much as might seem； it always
respected it。
To be quite clear in what I wish to say of the present relation of Boston
to our other literary centres； I must repeat that we have now no such
literary centre as Boston was。 Boston itself has perhaps outgrown the
literary consciousness which formerly distinguished it from all our other
large towns。 In a place of nearly a million people （I count in the
outlying places） newspapers must be more than books； and that alone says
everything。
Mr。 Aldrich once noticed that whenever an author died in Boston； the New…
Yorkers thought they had a literary centre； and it is by some such means
that the primacy has passed from Boston； even if it has not passed to New
York。 But still there is enough literature left in the body at Boston to
keep her first among equals in some things； if not easily first in all。
Mr。 Aldrich himself lives in Boston； and he is； with Mr。 Stedman； the
foremost of our poets。 At Cambridge live Colonel T。 W。 Higginson； an
essayist in a certain sort without rival among us； and Mr。 William James；
the most interesting and the most literary of psychologists； whose repute
is European as well as American。 Mr。 Charles Eliot Norton alone survives
of the earlier Cambridge groupLongfellow； Lowell； Richard Henry Dana；
Louis Agassiz； Francis J。 Child； and Henry James； the father of the
novelist and the psychologist。
To Boston Mr。 James Ford Rhodes； the latest of our abler historians； has
gone from Ohio； and there Mr。 Henry Cabot Lodge； the Massachusetts
Senator； whose work in literature is making itself more and more known；
was born and belongs； politically； socially； and intellectually。 Mrs。
Julia Ward Howe； a poet of wide fame in an elder generation； lives there；
Mr。 T。 B。 Aldrich lives there； and thereabouts live Mrs。 Elizabeth Stuart
Phelps Ward and Mrs。 Harriet Prescott Spofford； the first of a fame
beyond the last； who was known to us so long before her。 Then