Anti-slavery bugle. [volume] (New-Lisbon, Ohio) 1845-1861, 1857-08-29
From the Home Journal.
VISIT TO ~SUNNYSIDE.

ing Solicitations with the group under the perch
his true and easy step, plant motion, admirable
spontaneousness of good spirits and quiet simple,
ity Of address, giving him lie preten8e Of a man OF
half his age. This impression was somewhat cor
robborated, no doubt by the summer airiness OF
his dress, and a certain juvenescence that there
will always be about light walking shoes ano a
low-crowned straw h~at-somewhat, too, perhaps,
by the unchanged erectness and compactncss Of
his we'll proportional figure-but | did not realize,
(then nor afterwards during the day that there
was anything in his mean or appearance but the
healthtulness of middle age, anything but the un'
compelled promptness and elasticity OF vigor una
bated.
1t was one of those mornings when the inside
of the house is "the wrong side of the door !" and
to ask us to walk in" would scarce have been
q welcome. Mr.. Irving leaned against ono of the
pillars of the piazza, chatting with US to the ture
of soft air, foliage and sunshine till, the CONVEX
sation turning upon the architecture OF the house,
he took me into his library to see the drawing OF
it, as first built. There was, of course, ii spell in
the atmosphere of this inner sanctuary. 1t was
on the north side and the clustering ivy and foli-
age at the windows contributed to the mellowed
thoughtfulness of the light. At the spacious
writing.table in the centre stood the one comfortable
armchair, with the accustomed blotting.sheet,
askew at the working angle, between 1t and the
inkstand ; and of this blotting-sheet, by the way.
nothing legible upon it except two or three little
sums in arithmetic, cipered out upon the corners),
l begged the pOSseSS1On IL WIS INC HTSI tiiIe L
had ever asked for an autograph, | believe but
remembering a new volume of my daughters, and
seeing at once what a treasure of an addition to
it this memorial would be-(the door-inat on
which the thoughts of Ivring's last book has wip'
their sandals as they went in)-l begged that he
would give it me, writing Ais name first upon the
least-specked margin. Deprecatorily Insisting,
for a while, that the autograph should, at least
be upon a clean sheet of paper, he finally com
piled giving me. meantime, unsuspectingly, a
priceless picture to store away In my memory
himself seated ,priting ut his table. With his head
a little on one side, las is his wont, and as NIL por
traits represent him, J the genial smile of his lips
"holdinG still" for u moment, and a covert look of
humor in his eye, it was wonderful how mnch, for
i. that single unconscious minute. he looked as Mt
Sketch Book reads-how truthful the representa-
ton was of the Godfrey Crayon ii conjures up to
: our imaginations.
y, The drawing of the original-house hung on tx
:. wall and it represents a very simple practical
j. and every day dw~elling-poetical and even ro'
manticrlly beautiful as looks Sunnyside now
1t was commenced as Irving commences his mos
= airy fancies-with Il foundation. of common sense
that will be worth preserving when the gayer or
nament shall have lost its novelty. And on tbt
!, more perishable exterior, by the way, the frost 50
the last winter made a beginning killing a large
: portion of the luxuriant ivy, (the original stock Ct
= which was brought from Melrose Abbey cover
ing the wall and turrets on the east side. The ad
| ultlbU6 L lHC HpuSt--uS NiHSb, toNtEi q
windows an projections-have been the gradua
pleasure-toil of Mr.. Irving in this view, being
one of his 'w~orks"-built very much as thu
Sketch. Book was written-and (more than mos
authors residences, to be therefore pictured ant
remembered.
Our conversation, for the half hour we sat il
v that little library, turned, first upon the habits 0
:. literary labor. Mr.. Irving, in reply to my inQuir,
whether Rip Van Winkle, he had arrived at tina
happy age when a man can be idle with impuni
ty.") said, ''no"-that he had sometimes workc,
re even fourteen hours a day, that he usually sits i
% his study, occupied, from breakfast till dinner
both of us agreeing, that, in literary vegetation
= the 'do' is on in the morning y and that he shout
rf be sorry to have much more leisure. lie though
~ indeed, that he should ''die in harness." lie ne,
. er had a head.ache-that is his workshop neye
gave him any trouble-but, among the change
,e which time has wrought. one. he says, is very &c
cided the desire to travel is dead within him.
The days ore past when he could sleep or eat any
u where with equal pleasure ; and he goes to tow
as seldom as possible.
Motley's Dutch Republic" lay open on tho tt
r. BILE. and Irving said he had been Employing
M little vacation from his own labors in the reatin
ne Of it. 1t had Interested him exceedingly. "lIo
ca surprising" (he exclaimed. quite onergetically
''that 80 young a man should jump up at on,
full-grown, to fame, with a big book, 80 well stu,
led and complete !" This turned the conversatic
~, upon the experiences of authorship and he sa
Va ! tDdb hO " hlhhJo dituid " bpSu ~ me- wi
10 that reached him, of a new book of his own. |
IN sat and trembled and remembered all Il
weak points where he had been embarrassed al
.er perplexeded. and where be felt he might have dot
nd better-hating to think Of the book, indeed, uni
nd the reviewers had praised it. Indifference
praiso or censure. he thought, was not reason
BILE or natural. At least, it was impossible to hi,
re He remembered how he had suffered from Il
mr. opinion of a Philadelphia critic. who, in revie
mr. ing the Sketch Book, at its first appearance
ar said that rip Van Wrinkle" was a silly attem
ut humor. quite unworthy of the authors gent
My mention IF Rogers the poet, and some OF
er friends of Mr.. Irying's who had asked me abo
him in England, opened o vein of his London re
elections. He was never more astonished, he sa
than at the success of the Sketch Book. II
writing of those stories was so unlike 40 inspir
tion-so entirely without any feeling of confden
which could be prophetic of their popularity
Walking with his brother one dull foggy Sunda
over Westminster Bridge, he got to telling the 0
Dutch stories which he had heard at Tarrytow
in his youth-when the thought suddenly stru
him :--"I have it, III % home and make d me