Full resolution (TIFF) - On this page / på denna sida - Thursday, November 22
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literary and the most cultivated society in New York,
which assembled once a week in her drawing-room.
I had admired also her inoffensive wit, her
childlike gayety and good humor, and especially liked
a certain expression in her eye, as though it were
seeking for something, “something a long, long
way off,” even, in her apparently dissipated,
worldly life; in a word, I liked her, took a deep
interest in her—now I loved her. She is one of
the birds of Paradise which skim over the world
without soiling their wings with its dust. Anne
Lynch, with her individuality and her position in
society, is one of the peculiar figures of the New
World.
A lecture was delivered last Sunday evening,
in the same hall where I had heard Channing, on
Christian Socialism, by Mr. Henry James, a
wealthy and, it is said, a good man. His doctrine
was one which recognizes no right except that of
involuntary attraction, no law of duty but the
artist’s worship of beauty, no greatness except that
of power, no God but that of the pantheist, everywhere
and yet nowhere—a doctrine which has its
preachers even in Sweden. After the conclusion
of the discourse, given extempore, with enthusiasm
and flashing vivacity, Channing arose and said
that if the doctrine which we had just heard were
Christian Socialism, then he did not agree with it;
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