Part 11 (1/2)

This was not the sort of work, however, that the college authorities expected of him. He was lazy and got behind his cla.s.ses, so that near the end of his course he was rusticated, or suspended from college for some weeks. He had been chosen cla.s.s poet, but on account of his suspension he could not read his poem, though it was printed.

He was sent to Concord during this interval to carry on his studies under the minister of the town. Here he found it pretty dull, though Emerson and Th.o.r.eau were there. But he did not then care for either one of them. In one of his letters he said, ”I feel like a fool. I must go down and see Emerson and if he doesn't make me feel more like one, it won't be for want of sympathy. He is a good-natured man in spite of his doctrines.”

Of Th.o.r.eau he said, ”I met (him) last night, and it is exquisitely amusing to see how he imitates Emerson's tone and manner. With my eyes shut I shouldn't know them apart.”

In the autumn he came back to Cambridge and took his degree of Bachelor of Arts with his cla.s.s.

CHAPTER IV

HOW LOWELL STUDIED LAW

While at Concord, Lowell wrote to his friend Loring, as though explaining himself.

”Everybody almost is calling me 'indolent.' 'Blind dependent on my own powers' and 'on fate.' Confound everybody! since everybody confounds me. Everybody seems to see but one side of my character, and that the worst. As for my dependence on my own powers, 'tis all fudge. As for fate, I believe that in every man's breast are the stars of his fortune, which, if he choose, he may rule as easily as does the child the mimic constellations in the orrery he plays with. I acknowledge, too, that I have been something of a dreamer, and have sacrificed, perchance, too a.s.siduously on that altar to the 'unknown G.o.d,' which the Divinity has builded not with hands in the bosom of every decent man, sometimes blazing out clear with flame, like Abel's sacrifice, heaven-seeking; sometimes smothered with greenwood and earthward, like that of Cain. Lazy quota! I haven't dug, 'tis true, but I have done as well, and 'since my free soul was mistress of her choice, and could of books distinguish her election,' I have chosen what reading I pleased and what friends I pleased, sometimes scholars and sometimes not.”

Once out of college he had to take up some profession. Had poetry been a profession, he would have taken that; but such a choice at that time would have been considered sheer folly. He did not consider that he had any ”call” to be a minister, still less a doctor. As there was nothing else left, he began the study of law. It is truly amusing to see how he manages to ”wriggle along” until he takes his degree of LL.B. and is admitted to the bar.

First, he announces that he is ”reading Blackstone with as good a grace and as few wry faces as he may.” Only a few days later he declares, ”A very great change has come o'er the spirit of my dreams.

I have renounced the law.” He is going to be a business man, and sets about looking for a place, in a store. He is going to give up all thoughts of literary pursuits and devote himself to money-making. He also says, ”I have been thinking seriously of the ministry, but then--I have also thought of medicine, but then--still worse!”

A few days pa.s.s by. He goes into Boston and hears Webster speak in a case before the United States Court. ”I had not been there an hour before I determined to continue in my profession and study as well as I could.”

Still, it was hard work to keep at his law studies. He is soon writing to his friend George Loring, ”I sometimes think that I have it in me, and shall one day do somewhat; meantime I am schooling myself and shaping my theory of poesy.”

Six weeks later: ”I have written a great deal of _pottery_ lately. I have quitted the law forever.” Then he inquires if he can make any money by lecturing at Andover. He already has an engagement to lecture at Concord, where he has hopes to ”astonish them a little.”

A fortnight later we find him in a ”miserable state. The more I think of business the more really unhappy do I feel, and think more and more of studying law.” What he really wants to do all the time is to write poetry. ”I don't know how it is,” he says, ”but sometimes I actually _need_ to write somewhat in verse.” Sunday is his work day in the ”pottery business.”

As for the law, it is settled at last. He writes to his friend, ”Rejoice with me, for to-morrow I shall be free. Without saying a word to any one, I shall quietly proceed to Dane Law College to recitation.

Now shall I be happy again as far as that is concerned.”

A fortnight later he declares, ”I begin to like the law, and therefore it is quite interesting. I am determined that I _will_ like it and therefore I _do_.”

In the summer of 1840 he completed his studies and was admitted to the bar. A little later he opened an office in Boston. Misfortune had overtaken his father, and his personal property had been nearly swept away. It was now necessary for the young man to earn his own living.

His friends were therefore glad that he had his profession to depend on.

CHAPTER V

LOVE AND LETTERS

Lowell always had a presentiment that he should never practice law. He was always dreaming of becoming independent in some other way. ”Above all things,” he declares, ”should I love to sit down and do something literary for the rest of my natural life.”

He did not then think of marrying, and it does not require much to support a single man. Though he opened a law office in Boston, it does not appear that he did any business. He wrote a story ent.i.tled ”My First Client,” but one of his biographers unkindly suggests that this may have been purely imaginary.

All through his letters we see his ambitious yearning. ”George,” says he in one place, ”before I die your heart shall be gladdened by seeing your wayward, vain, and too often selfish friend do something that shall make his name honored. As Sheridan once said, 'It's _in_ me, and' (we'll skip the oath) 'it shall come _out_!'”

His bachelor dreams were soon dissipated, however. He went to visit a friend of his, W.A. White, and there met the young man's sister Maria.