I would
rather have twenty ideas to one word.'"
And again:--
"_April_ 22.--To-day is the second of Mr. Emerson's 'Readings,'
or 'Conversations,' and he is coming with Longfellow and the Hunts to
have dinner afterward.... We had a gay, lovely time at the dinner;
but, first about the lecture. Emerson talked of poetry, and the unity
which exists between science and poetry, the latter being the fine
insight which solves all problems. The _un_written poetry of to-day,
the virgin soil, was strongly, inspiringly revealed to us. He was
not talking, he said, when he spoke of poetry, of the smooth verses of
magazines, but of poetry itself wherever it was found. He read
favorite single lines from Byron's 'Island,' giving Byron great
praise, as if in view of the injustice which has been done him in our
time. After Byron's poem he read a lyric written by a traveler to the
Tonga Islands, which is in Martin's 'Travels;' also a noble poem
called 'The Soul,' and a sonnet, by Wordsworth. We were all entranced
as the magic of his sympathetic voice passed from one poetic vision to
another. Indeed, we could not bear to see the hour fade away."
I find the following fragment of a note written during May of that
year:--
I received on my return home last night, with pleasure which is quite
ceasing to surprise, the final installment of one hundred and seven
dollars from the singular soliloquies called "Conversations,"
inaugurated by the best of directors.
Pages:
65
66
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