National Republican., 1875-11-01
LITERARY LONDON.
JOAQUIN MlLLER's LECTURE
WORN CUT HIS CLOTHES AND has NO HOME
WISHES HR WAS IN THO SHEEP BUSINESS
ARTEMUS WARD AND BALD BUTTER
Bohemians in London - Grand Old
Walt Whitman-General schenck and
His volume-Men OF Letters I'm Eng.
land, France and America.

lecture at Lincoln Hall by the distinguished and
eccentric poet, Joaquin Miller Lincoln Hall was
not flled, but the audience one Of the bright
est Intellectual calibre. Many sGuans in science,
| several wellknown Hierateurs, few Senators,
| Members and other gentlemen in high ofhclal
station, and last but certaialy not least, Presi-
| u,nI Grant himself was seenamong tho audience.
/. Mr.. Miller appeared, purposely, without an In
| production. He feared that the people would ex-
pect too much and, besides, he was afraid that he
might be introduced as great. something, which
| he was not.
The lecturer is o man Of fine presence and
physique. His long hair has been shorn, and his
| manly form appeared to advantage in q well.ht-
ting black frock coat and vest, and light pants,
| while his hands glittered with diamonds. His
manner is easy and almost careless, but there is
consciousness Of innate strength in every ges-
ture, and sympathetic ring In his voice. which
magnetizes one almost against ones Judgment
We feel that the man before US is a being OF grand
possibilities and broad views; that he looks at
life, and genius, and art, from q stand point as
the expanse of the ocean he knows SO well.
Mr.. Miller said: Wnen was about to leave the
iOfuns In The SEeat wds wST s tSs
runs, an old man, sitting on o worm fence, one
evening, with his buckskinlegs hanging down, said
don't you go the worlds Imposter, and t'IIfeed
you on husks as 1t did the probable sun." But
told him was resolved 70 goi .hen the old man
Pacific sea like mighty hemisphere OF hre, then
up at his hoeks Of sheep feeding on the hillside,
and said, "Wal, Joaquin, II you must 20, 20; but
you'll come back some day to the old rancho.
YOU'LL BE SICK OF THE WORLD
and sorry you went, and you won't have no buck
skin clothes, and you won't have no home. But
when you do come oack-for you're good
TeanLn' boy, JSaquin-and have no buckski9
I'll give you home, and you shall live with me
and take care of my sheep, at $40 mOnth, ,as long
Well, / have worn out my other clothes, and
have no home, but can't go back to the old man
in the sheep business, for, as the French say,
come to you tonight to lecture. make my first
bow to you this side Of the Rocky mountains. /
tell you all this to show you that this Is not my
favorite pursuit, and also to show to you that
have not the highest opinion OF the present lectu
rer. Nor have Of any man who wins notoriety
septs to exhibit himself for hire and call that lee
turing. No, had preferred the sheep business,
and at this moment Wish had accepted tne @ oid
will wish SO too Certainly and seriously my am
bition lay beyond this when 1, boy, padded my
that when came to the Capital OF my country, 1
should come to take part in the counsels Of the
would thrill the people instead Of standing here
to talk upon tame theme, on q foreign subject,
and for price. However, II you please, we will
There is much ofinterest away down among the
unknown toilers of the lower strata Of literary
London. Literary men away down here work BY
ability, but too often, like Tbackery and Others
come up above when 1t is too late. knew some
of the strangest men down there; each would
make a novel in himself One, . nobleman,
very eccentric man, who had renounced his fam
lily titles, and here among the rest he staid and
about Independence, / have never seen such.
Another who bossted that he lived by his pen
fime in TIitipr trscts' vet he was csFtsIpIy the
wickedest Bohemian ever saw. Another was a
grand old man, born with crown upon his head.
Ye knew him when he fought. Through the day
this old man made music for the poor as an organ
grinder Saffron Hill, coming nightly to our
little club to talk Owe his old battles and write
Speaking of the Savage club Mr.. Miller said
but on the levels far below It as the Savage was
below the Athenium.
age club. The butter upon the table was not
good it was not nice; at least, It was suggestive
Handing the dish to the waiter, he said: Waiter,
butter" Nobody laughed. But after a while
that Yankee talking about bald butter?S how
made him o member Of the Savage. Artemus
Ward died in the arms Of tho Savage club.
in The tS world, the Htheniun. It'll probably the
MOST ARIsToCRATIC CLUB IN LONDON,
ard certainly the most stupid. The members are
as mournful as undertakers. know not why 1t
is but going into the club always seemed to me
like going into gallery oil antique statuary In
the month Of december. It is composed chiefly
Of members OF Parliament. 1t is very select So
Eelecr, in fact, that IT takes almost lifetime to
become o member, even among the most favored
But lis reminds me that have shared their
hospitality, eaten their bread and made an hoa-
orary member. and l must speak with respect
and do! They are pure, noble and honorable
men. They are also profoundly learned; they are
SOL med that they talk in many tongues, and
My favorite in all London IS the "Cosmopol.
tan" club. It is different from the Athenium as
possible. The members never meet till mid
% What W very Ts%srnaSIs ns tn.y sas
made up Of the statuary Of the Athenium club,
ss9 % wssD he tess the 81 sa ID and
and stately, is very much OF an actor, and that
the werld has now quite mistaken idea Of the
meetings of the Athenium are before dinner those
Of the Cosmopolitan alter dinner, which may nc
count for the difference.
The lowest and poorest Bohemian In London, II
he has talent, is Invited to the table OF peers.
Lord Houghton is one who deserves the greatest
praise for his support Of genius. Poor David
was the more certain he would be Of his support.
An Englshman who stands very near the
to be SH
songs?" "No matter, I'd rather write one song
that would be sung and repeated BY the people
only mention this to show you the estimation In
which art is held in literary London.
But how is It hsref The Government and the
assail each other. When write o book pub |
lish It in London to sell to Americans or should
be laughed at for my work.
There is q king upon the continent who has
written q book. That book IS even q book of
verse, and yet he is counted q gentleman; nay, he
is honored by all the kings Of Europe for his
work Of art. The Duke of Edinboro' is a first
class fiddler, but nobody thinks Of laughing at
Gladstone up before the world as Prime Minister
of England, with his fair Helen and his Homer
held his in bis hand. He is more proud of these
nOman thought him the less q statesman because
he was an author. Disraeli came upon the plat
form with his two arms full Of novels, but no
man mocked him for his love Of art and lItera-
ture. He was even honored for his work in the
howery field. But here in America
HERE, IN THIS HIGH CAPITAL,
there was once O colossal mind: an old, ard IN
mer's-the Milton of America He walked these
streets for years, plain, brave, old man, who
was End even gSp5 dSSs H had don;
written great books, which had been translated in
all tongues and read In every land save his ewn.
place under the Government, where he could
barely earn bread enough for himself and his old
mother. He went up "a and S down, at work here for
AT lasr, stricken with palsy, he LEFT the place,
leaning upon his staff, to go away and die. saw
him but the other day, dying, destitute.
Grand old Walt WhitmsnI Even now he looks
like Titan god! [Applause.l l thank you, that
you sympathiZe with him. Don't tell me that
man gives all his youth and all his years In the
pursuit Of art. enduring poverty in the face Of
scorn. for nothing. That man shall livei He
shall live when yon mighty dome Of your Capitol
no longer lifts its rounded shoulders against the
circles Of time.
No, mol We laugh too much. We laugh ct
each other; we laugh at art; we laugh at men
whom we have placed In exalted positions We
csricature great and good men, and disgrace only
ourselves. We laugh at old men and old women.
II ever grow old i shall 70 TO Europe, that
may be respected in my age. We laugA at re-
ligfon and we laugh at love. There no reverence
In us; we are race Of clowns.
have been calculating how much money the
people Of the United States pay England an
ually for the privilege Of looking at the tomb Of