vigor, it belongs to the springtime of literature. It has entered into
the popular mind as no other American book ever has, and it may be said
to have created a social realm which, with all its whimsical conceit, has
almost historical solidity. The Knickerbocker pantheon is almost as real
as that of Olympus. The introductory chapters are of that elephantine
facetiousness which pleased our great-grandfathers, but which is
exceedingly tedious to modern taste; and the humor of the book
occasionally has a breadth that is indelicate to our apprehension, though
it perhaps did not shock our great-grandmothers. But, notwithstanding
these blemishes, I think the work has more enduring qualities than even
the generation which it first delighted gave it credit for. The world,
however, it must be owned, has scarcely yet the courage of its humor, and
dullness still thinks it necessary to apologize for anything amusing.
There is little doubt that Irving himself supposed that his serious work
was of more consequence to the world.

It seems strange that after this success Irving should have hesitated to
adopt literature as his profession. But for two years, and with leisure,
he did nothing. He had again some hope of political employment in a
small way; and at length he entered into a mercantile partnership with
his brothers, which was to involve little work for him, and a share of
the profits that should assure his support, and leave him free to follow
his fitful literary inclinations. Yet he seems to have been mainly
intent upon society and the amusements of the passing hour, and, without
the spur of necessity to his literary capacity, he yielded to the
temptations of indolence, and settled into the unpromising position of a
"man about town." Occasionally, the business of his firm and that of
other importing merchants being imperiled by some threatened action of
Congress, Irving was sent to Washington to look after their interests.
The leisurely progress he always made to the capital through the