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 at Boston；
or near Boston； live those artists supreme in the kind of short story
which we have carried so far： Miss Jewett； Miss Wilkins； Miss Alice
Brown； Mrs。 Chase…Wyman； and Miss Gertrude Smith； who comes from Kansas；
and writes of the prairie farm…life； though she leaves Mr。 E。 W。 Howe
（of 'The Story of a Country Town' and presently of the Atchison Daily
Globe） to constitute； with the humorous poet Ironquill； a frontier
literary centre at Topeka。 Of Boston； too； though she is of western
Pennsylvania origin； is Mrs。 Margaret Deland； one of our most successful
novelists。 Miss Wilkins has married out of Massachusetts into New
Jersey； and is the neighbor of Mr。 H。 M。 Alden at Metuchen。
All these are more or less embodied and represented in the Atlantic
Monthly； still the most literary； and in many things still the first of
our magazines。 Finally； after the chief publishing house in New York；
the greatest American publishing house is in Boston； with by far the
largest list of the best American books。 Recently several firms of
younger vigor and valor have recruited the wasted ranks of the Boston
publishers； and are especially to be noted for the number of rather nice
new poets they give to the light。
V。
Dealing with the question geographically； in the right American way； we
descend to Hartford obliquely by way of Springfield； Massachusetts；
where； in a little city of fifty thousand； a newspaper of metropolitan
influence and of distinctly literary tone is published。 At Hartford
while Charles Dudley Warner lived； there was an indisputable literary
centre； Mark Twain lives there no longer； and now we can scarcely count
Hartford among our literary centres； though it is a publishing centre of
much activity in subscription books。
At New Haven； Yale University has latterly attracted Mr。 William H。
Bishop； whose novels I always liked for the best reasons； and has long
held Professor J。 T。 Lounsbury； who is； since Professor Child's death at
Cambridge； our best Chaucer scholar。 Mr。 Donald G。 Mitchell； once
endeared to the whole fickle American public by his Reveries of a
Bachelor and his Dream Life； dwells on the borders of the pleasant town；
which is also the home of Mr。 J。 W。 De Forest； the earliest real American
novelist； and for certain gifts in seeing and telling our life also one
of the greatest。
As to New York （where the imagination may arrive daily from New Haven；
either by a Sound boat or by eight or ten of the swiftest express trains
in the world）； I confess I am more and more puzzled。 Here abide the
poets； Mr。 R。 H。 Stoddard； Mr。 E。 C。 Stedman； Mr。 R。 W。 Gilder； and many
whom an envious etcetera must hide from view； the fictionists； Mr。 R。 H。
Davis； Mrs。 Kate Douglas Wiggin； Mr。 Brander Matthews； Mr。 Frank
Hopkinson Smith； Mr。 Abraham Cahan； Mr。 Frank Norris； and Mr。 James Lane
Allen； who has left Kentucky to join the large Southern contingent； which
includes Mrs。 Burton Harrison and Mrs。 McEnery Stuart； the historians；
Professor William M。 Sloane and Dr。 Eggleston （reformed from a novelist）；
the literary and religious and economic essayists； Mr。 Hamilton W。
Mabie； Mr。 H。 M。 Alden； Mr。 J。 J。 Chapman； and Mr。 E。 L。 Godkin； with
critics； dramatists； satirists； magazinists； and journalists of literary
stamp in number to convince the wavering reason against itself that here
beyond all question is the great literary centre of these States。 There
is an Authors' Club； which alone includes a hundred and fifty authors；
and； if you come to editors； there is simply no end。 Magazines are
published here and circulated hence throughout the land by millions； and
books by the ton are the daily output of our publishers； who are the
largest in the country。
If these things do not mean a great literary centre； it would be hard to
say what does； and I am not going to try for a reason against such facts。
It is not quality that is wanting； but perhaps it is the quantity of the
quality； there is leaven； but not for so large a lump。 It may be that
New York is going to be our literary centre； as London is the literary
centre of England； by gathering into itself all our writing talent； but
it has by no means done this yet。 What we can say is that more authors
come here from the West and South than go elsewhere； but they often stay
at home； and I fancy very wisely。 Mr。 Joel Chandler Harris stays at
Atlanta； in Georgia； Mr。 James Whitcomb Riley stays at Indianapolis； Mr。
Maurice Thompson spent his whole literary life； and General Lew。 Wallace
still lives at Crawfordsville； Indiana； Mr。 Madison Cawein stays at
Louisville； Kentucky； Miss Murfree stays at St。 Louis； Missouri； Francis
R。 Stockton spent the greater part of the year at his place in West
Virginia； and came only for the winter months to New York； Mr。 Edward
Bellamy； until his failing health exiled him to the Far West； remained at
Chicopee； Massachusetts； and I cannot think of one of these writers whom
it would have advantaged in any literary wise to dwell in New York。 He
would not have found greater incentive than at home； and in society he
would not have found that literary tone which all society had； or wished
to have； in Boston when Boston was a great town and not yet a big town。
In fact； I doubt if anywhere in the world there was ever so much taste
and feeling for literature as there was in that Boston。 At Edinburgh （as
I imagine it） there was a large and distinguished literary class； and at
Weimar there was a cultivated court circle； but in Boston there was not
only such a group of authors as we shall hardly see here again for
hundreds of years； but there was such regard for them and their calling；
not only in good society； but among the extremely well…read people of the
whole intelligent city； as hardly another community has shown。 New York；
I am quite sure； never was such a centre； and I see no signs that it ever
will be。 It does not influence the literature of the whole country as
Boston once did through writers whom all the young writers wished to
resemble； it does not give t