My father published a history of the Greek revolution while he was still under thirty. Although essentially a man of action, he was accustomed throughout his long life to write reports, pamphlets and letters to the newspapers—in a word, to elicit the interest and good-will of his fellow-men in his work.
My mother is best known as the author of the “Battle Hymn of the Republic,” but she also published many volumes of verse and prose. In later years she appealed much to the public, and especially to her fellow-women.
Sister Julia wrote stories and verses from her earliest childhood. She published a volume of poems, entitled Stray Chords, and a little book, Philosophicæ Quæstor, describing the Concord School of Philosophy. Our mother considered this, her eldest daughter, as the most talented of her children. Brother Harry did not turn to literature until a later period in life. His works, although primarily technical and scientific, are thought to show a gift for literary expression. The award of gold medals on both sides of the Atlantic and of decorations by foreign governments was doubtless won by lucidity of expression as well as technical merit.
Sister Laura began to write rhymes for children soon after her marriage. They were published in Saint Nicholas, with illustrations by J. A. Mitchell, afterward the editor of Life. Their merit and charm were quickly recognized. She at once won the favor of the public, and has held it ever since. Captain January is the best known of her many books. She is also the author of Journals and Letters of Samuel Gridley Howe and, in collaboration with sister Maud, of Julia Ward Howe. In the preparation of the last-named book, I gave some assistance.
Sister Maud published novels and stories before her marriage. Her later books, Beata Roma, Two in Italy, etc., telling of her life and experience in the Eternal City and elsewhere, have won a genuine success.
Thus when I began to think of adding a little to our income, writing for the newspapers and magazines seemed the easiest thing to do. We had now four children, each of whom, as we held, had brought us good fortune. This pleasant theory was probably suggested by Bret Harte’s “Luck of Roaring Camp.”
They certainly brought us an incentive for new effort, which is the best form of good fortune. In story-writing I was not very successful. My natural mode of expression was in sketches and essays, often of a humorous character.
My mother was much interested in my new venture, and gave me letters to various editors, including Mrs. J. C. Croly (“Jennie June”), the editor of Demorest’s Magazine. She was extremely kind to me, and I wrote many articles for her. Mrs. Croly was very fair, if not pale, with blue eyes and light hair. Her face wore a rather worried expression, for her life was not an easy one. Her husband was then living, but his invalid condition added to her cares. She held pleasant evening receptions, at one of which I heard Marshall P. Wilder, the humorist. He had a real power of mimicry, but his delineations were not always pleasant. One of them was “The Idiot Boy.”
In these days I made pilgrimages to editorial dens, and was surprised at the wonderful flow of conversation issuing from the mouths of powerful personages. Why do editors talk so much to the neophyte? They kindly gave me a great deal of information, but it was gradually borne in upon me that they talked in order to protect themselves from boredom at my hands. Did they not know, from long and painful experience, just what every beginner at the trade would inevitably say? Hence they forestalled my uninteresting remarks—and answered my unformed questions in the proper way. I noticed that, after a certain amount of information had been imparted to me, the editor would take up a paper and become deeply absorbed in its contents. This was the signal for me to go. I soon learned not to invade the editor in his den, unless he or she encouraged me to do so.
The following letter was written apropos of my pilgrimages to editorial dens: