... And now I begin to understand why I was
imprisoned so many years in this lonely chamber, and why I could never
break through the viewless bolts and bars; for if I had sooner made my
escape into the world, I should have grown hard and rough, and my heart
might have become callous by rude encounters with the multitude.... But
living in solitude till the fulness of time, I still kept the dew of my
youth and the freshness of my heart."
Yes, and more than this, Hawthorne! It was a young nation's faith in its
future which--unsuspected by any then, but always to be remembered
henceforth--had found a worthy answer and after-type in this faithful
and hopeful heart of yours! Thus was it that the young poet who, in the
sense we have observed, stood for old New England, absorbed into himself
also the atmosphere of the United States. The plant that rooted in the
past had put forth a flower which drew color and perfume from to-day. In
such wise did Hawthorne prove to be the unique American in fiction.
I have examined the librarian's books at the Salem Athenaeum, which
indicate a part of the reading that the writer of the "Twice-Told Tales"
went through. The lists from the beginning of 1830 to 1838 include
nearly four hundred volumes taken out by him, besides a quantity of
bound magazines. This gives no account of his dealings with books in the
previous five years, when he was not a shareholder in the Athenaeum, nor
does it, of course, let us know anything of what he obtained from other
sources.
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