from that, and I shall never be able to enter America again." That
"innocent article" was an estimate, based on his experience in two
recent visits to the United States, of American civilization. "Innocent"
perhaps it was, but it was essentially critical. He began by saying that
in America the "political and social problem" had been well solved; that
there the constitution and government were to the people as well-fitting
clothes to a man; that there was a closer union between classes there
than elsewhere, and a more "homogeneous" nation. But then he went on to
say that, besides the political and social problem, there was a "human
problem," and that in trying to solve this America had been less
successful--indeed, very unsuccessful. The "human problem" was the
problem of civilization, and civilization meant "humanization in
society"--the development of the best in man, in and by a social system.
And here he pronounced America defective. America generally--life,
people, possessions--was not "interesting." Americans lived willingly
in places called by such names as Briggsville, Jacksonville and
Marcellus. The general tendency of public opinion was against
distinction. America offered no satisfaction to the sense for beauty,
the sense for elevation. Tall talk and self-glorification were rampant,
and no criticism was tolerated. In fine, there were many countries, less
free and less prosperous, which were more civilized.

That "innocent article," written in 1888, shows exactly the same
balanced tone and temper--the same critical attitude towards things with
which in the main he sympathizes--as the letters of 1848.

And what is true of the beginning and the end is true of the long tract
which lay between. From first to last he was a Critic--a calm and
impartial judge, a serene distributer of praise and blame--never a
zealot, never a prophet, never an advocate, never a dealer in that