hide Matching Documents

The documents where this entity occurs most often are shown below. Click on a document to open it.

Document Max. Freq Min. Freq
Charles E. Stowe, Harriet Beecher Stowe compiled from her letters and journals by her son Charles Edward Stowe 26 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Carlyle's laugh and other surprises 16 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, The new world and the new book 16 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 10 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Women and Men 8 0 Browse Search
George Ticknor, Life, letters and journals of George Ticknor (ed. George Hillard) 4 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Book and heart: essays on literature and life 2 0 Browse Search
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, John Greenleaf Whittier 2 0 Browse Search
The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 2. (ed. John Greenleaf Whittier) 2 0 Browse Search
View all matching documents...

Browsing named entities in Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Carlyle's laugh and other surprises. You can also browse the collection for John Ruskin or search for John Ruskin in all documents.

Your search returned 8 results in 3 document sections:

Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Carlyle's laugh and other surprises, V. James Fenimore Cooper (search)
ancy, and that a vague general account would have been far better. Why describe the dress and appearance of an Indian chief, down to his tobacco-stopper and buttonholes? We now see that it is this very habit which has made Cooper's Indian a permanent figure in literature, while the Indians of his predecessor, Charles Brockden Brown, were merely dusky spectres. Poetry or romance, continued the Edinburgh Review, does not descend into the particulars, this being the same fallacy satirized by Ruskin, whose imaginary painter produced a quadruped which was a generalization between a pony and a pig. Balzac, who risked the details of buttons and tobacco pipes as fearlessly as Cooper, said of The Pathfinder, Never did the art of writing tread closer upon the art of the pencil. This is the school of study for literary landscape painters. He says elsewhere: If Cooper had succeeded in the painting of character to the same extent that he did in the painting of the phenomena of nature, he would
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Carlyle's laugh and other surprises, X. Charles Eliot Norton (search)
ary self-revelation is to be found, perhaps, in his work entitled Letters of John Ruskin, published in 1904, and going back to his first invitation from the elder Ru on Norton's first direct trip to Europe, followed by a correspondence in which Ruskin writes to him, February 25, 1861, You have also done me no little good, and otAmerican Civil War; but it is pleasant to find that after ten months of silence Ruskin wrote to Norton again, if bitterly. Later still, we find successive letters adh the contest is won. Not all completed, however, for in the last years of life Ruskin addressed Darling Charles, and the last words of his own writing traced in penc peculiar associations of his boyhood and has found them still the best. While Ruskin was pitying him for being doomed to wear out his life in America, Norton with literary executor or editor of several important men of letters, as of Carlyle, Ruskin, Lowell, Curtis, and Clough; and that in each case the work was done with absol
Thomas Wentworth Higginson, Carlyle's laugh and other surprises, chapter 20 (search)
sed. I bring you others, as you ask, though they might not differ. While my thought is undressed, I can make the distinction; but when I put them in the gown, they look alike and numb. You asked how old I was? I made no verse, but one or two, until this winter, sir. I had a terror since September, I could tell to none; and so I sing, as the boy does of the burying ground, because I am afraid. You inquire my books. For poets, I have Keats, and Mr. and Mrs. Browning. For prose, Mr. Ruskin, Sir Thomas Browne, and the Revelations. I went to school, but in your manner of the phrase had no education. When a little girl, I had a friend who taught me Immortality; but venturing too near, himself, he never returned. Soon after my tutor died, and for several years my lexicon was my only companion. Then I found one more, but he was not contented I be his scholar, so he left the land. You ask of my companions. Hills, sir, and the sundown, and a dog large as myself, that my fa