"Margaret," said he, as she paused and waited for him, "you are not
right in everything. You forget that your lonely little village of
Charlemont, is not only not the world, but that it is not even an
American world. America is not Italy, I grant you, nor likely soon
to become so; but if you fancy there are not cities even in our
country, where genius such as yours would be felt and worshipped,
you are mistaken."
"Do you believe there are such?" she demanded incredulously.
"I KNOW there are!"
"No! no! I know better. You can not deceive me. It can not be so.
I know the sort of genius which is popular in those cities. It is
the gentleman and lady genius. Look at their verses for example.
I can show you thousands of such things that come to us here, from
all quarters of the Union--verses written by nice people--people
of small tastes and petty invention, who would not venture upon the
utterance of a noble feeling, or a bold sentiment of originality,
for fear of startling the fashionable nerves with the strong words
which such a novelty would require. Consider, in the first place,
how conclusive it is of the feeblest sort of genius that these
people should employ themselves, from morning to night, in spinning
their small strains, scraps of verse, song, and sonnet, and invariably
on such subjects of commonplace, as can not admit of originality,
and do not therefore task reflection.
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