The San Francisco call., 1909-12-05

lNLlE- the uedLl OF bret ANs NG-A-
fornia has suffered no greater loss
- in her literary ranks than in the
passing Of Charles Warren Stoddard.
While he sojourned in many parts of
the world, he was most essentially
western. for he never could shake of,
even to the hour in last May when he
looked for the last time upon Monterey
sands. those habits of looking at life
and nature acquired in the early Cali
fornia days when he worked himself TO
fame along with Harte. Miss Coolbrith.
Joaquin Miller and Mark Twain.
Doubtless the academic critic would
say: 1T is yet too early to estimate the
real worth Of Stoddard; we must wait
for the perspective of his work given
by the lapse Of a quarter. or better, a
half century, before we can with any
surety point out wherein he is TO be
permanent" Yet, even at some risk
q Of erring. there is considerable value in
early estimates Of literary style, es-
pecially II the critic is familiar with the
authors personality. knows Of the con-
iftions under which he worked and is
acquainted with his standing among his
contemporaries. A friendship with the
south sea idyllist extending over a
period Of four years has enabled the
writer TO know somewhat intimately
these vantage points; and il is, there
fore. with some confidence that he
speaks.
In the first place. stoddard was gen
uiUa. His Inspirations always came
from his heart. No magazine editor
was able TO assign him tasks and to pay
him for them at so much per page. He
.-aalled himself a free lance. lie could
write only when the inspiration came
from within him. This was wellaillus-
trated in his last writings for the mag
azines The editor of the National
but prescribed absolutely no limit; SO
he wrote upon what was dearest TO
him. "Stevenson's s Monterey Joaquin
Miller" The Pink Countess. And he
added 10 these the best lyric he ever
wrote. Some One to Some Other"
Again, his article on .Old Bohemia"
for the Pacific Monthly was OF his own
selection and written with his old time
JOY. But alas, kindly Charlie Aiken in
veigled him into writing for the Sunset
a series on California missions; and
shat hapOened2 The muse rebelled.
She was licked into submission with
Yle=G.@gs from the Sunset Office and
letters and kilograms for copy; and
what came finally was done In a half
hearted. jaded sort of way which was
but d shadow Of the lightheartednes
and beauty Of his real literary power.
only once in the Sunset series did he
become himself-when he wrote, THE
Bells Of San Gabriel" with its musical
litany,
And every note OF every bell
Sang Gabriel. rang Gabriel
IN the tower left the tale 70 tell
OF Gabriel, the Archangel.
Stoddsrd nodded TO the music of his
own nature every environment he en-
cOuntered during the years Of his trav-
eled life. If by chance he could not re-
spond to what place had to give him.
he passed on Immediately to other
fields. Places he loved he immortaiized.
But ii was subjectively he saw them,
and he colored them with the light
from his own brain. He continually
idealized both places and friends He
went through the world giving things
his own color. Not a house did he
{ive in but he gave it romantic name
u washington. D. C., his home was
- Anthony's Rest; at Monterey it
was casa Verde: at Congress Springs
Il was Pink Cables. To him. h;s
friends symbolized the beautiful quail