FOOTNOTES

“It has been with difficult submission to marketableness,” he had written in his preface to “Dashes at Life,” “that the author has broken up his statues at the joints and furnished each fragment with head and legs to walk alone. Continually accumulating material, with the desire to produce a work of fiction, he was as continually tempted by extravagant prices to shape these separate forms of society and character into tales for periodicals; and between two persuaders—the law of copyright, on the one hand, providing that American books at fair prices should compete with books to be had for nothing; and necessity, on the other hand, pleading much more potently than the ambition for an adult stature in literary fame—he has gone on acquiring a habit of dashing off for a magazine any chance view of life that turned up to him, and selling in fragmentary chapters what should have been kept together, and moulded into a proportionate work of imagination.”

If “Paul Fane, or Parts of a Life Else Untold”was a response to this artistic craving for unity in a sustained work, its author had waited too late. It was, in effect, a poor novel; and—what was unusual with Willis, even at his thinnest—it was dull. The story is told in the first person, and the hero is a young American artist, who, feeling his social equality challenged by a look in the eyes of a cold English girl of high birth, is driven abroad by a restless determination to put himself on a level with any nobility that hereditary rank can bestow. He brings the haughtiest daughters of Albion to his feet. Three or four women fall in love with him, including the original offender and her aunt, but he will none of them. It is Willis’s old theme of nature’s nobleman versus caste. The novel was an experiment, before the times were ripe, in that field of international manners which has since been so cleverly occupied by Henry James. It tries to deal with the perplexities and real miseries, which arise not so much from the deeper conflicts of character as from the attempt to adjust hostile social standards. Mr. James has made a very interesting story out of the simple episode of a young English lady marrying an American, coming to America to live, and then, not finding American ways to her taste, taking her husband back to England with her. But Willis was not wellequipped for success in this field. He could not keep his fancy in check; there must be a dash of romance, of exaggeration in his tale. And he was a quick observer rather than a patient student of manners, as of other things. He lacked the sober, truthful vigilance of James and Howells. Miss Firkin, in this book, an overdone Daisy Miller, and Blivins, an American type once rumored to have existed, but inconceivable at this distance of time, show how far his execution fell below the fine and solid work of our contemporary realists. There are passages of vulgarity in “Paul Fane” which are a surprise in any book of Willis’s, but which came rather from the weakness and failure of his hand in its attempt to execute scenes of broad humor, than from any crudity of feeling. This kind of violent and assumed indelicacy on the part of naturally refined writers, when they are trying to put on the healthy coarseness of a Hogarth or Teniers, is a not uncommon phenomenon; daintiness mistaking coarseness for the strength of which it is often a sign or an accompaniment.

In “The Convalescent” were included narratives of a trip to the Rappahannock, to Nantucket, and to the horse fair at Springfield, Massachusetts. In July, 1860, Willis accompanied Mr. Grinnell on a journey to the West,—reported for the “Home Journal” as a “ThreeWeeks’ Trip to the West,”—going to Yellow Springs, Ohio, and Chicago, and as far as Madison, Wisconsin; then descending the Mississippi in a steamboat to St. Louis, and returning East by way of Cincinnati and Pittsburgh.

In Willis’s later writings his verbal affectations gained upon him to an intolerable extent. “Mr. N. P. Willis,” says Bartlett in his “Dictionary of Americanisms,” “has the reputation of inventing many new words, some of which, though not yet embodied in our dictionaries, are much used in familiar language.” One of the phrases which Bartlett accredits to him is, “the upper ten,”—originally and in full, “the upper ten thousand of New York city.” This seems likely to keep its place in the language. “Japonicadom” took at the time, but has now gone out. He had a fondness for agglutinations. “Come-at-able” is a convenient word which is traced to his mint; and Professor George P. Marsh, in his “Origin and History of the English Language,” lends the weight of his authority to Willis’s “Stay-at-home-itiveness,” as a synonym for the Greek οἰκουρία, and the early Englishstudestapelvestnesse. But such philological monsters as re-June-venescence, worthwhile-ativeness, fifty-per-centity, with which some of his books are strewn, have a painfully forced effect, and the trick became, from repetition,a tedious mannerism. Punning, likewise, was a habit which grew upon him, though both of these offenses are commoner in his private correspondence than in his published work.

At the outbreak of the civil war in the spring of 1861, there was a rush of newspaper men to Washington. It was decided that the “Home Journal,” too, should have its war correspondent, and accordingly Willis, bidding good-by to Idlewild, flung himself into the tide of journalists, soldiers, politicians, office-seekers, contractors, and speculators of all sorts, setting toward the seat of government. At Baltimore he stayed over a day with his friend Kennedy, who was prominently mentioned for the secretaryship of the navy, and who went on to Washington with Willis, where the latter introduced him and Reverdy Johnson to Mrs. Lincoln. The feeding of the “Home Journal” press with “Lookings-on at the War” proved a longer job than Willis had anticipated. It kept him in Washington for over a year, with occasional furloughs for a hurried visit home. He had always been curiously indifferent to politics. His opinions had been Whiggish, and he was, of course, a Union man. But he retained a secret sympathy with the South, and a liking for “those chivalrous, polysyllabic Southerners, incapable of a short word or a mean action,” whom he had known at Saratogayears before. Nevertheless, he dropped his light plummet of observation into the boiling sea of the civil war, where it was tossed about at no great depth below the surface. It is interesting to compare his letters from the capital with the patriotic fervor and swing of such martial sketches as Theodore Winthrop’s “Washington as a Camp.” The war, indeed, may be said to have made Willis and the kind of literature which he cultivated obsolete for a time. A more earnest generation of writers had come to the fore, who struck their roots deeper down into the life of the nation. Mr. Derby, the publisher, proposed in 1863 to make a book out of Willis’s “Lookings-on at the War,” but the project hung fire for some reason, and “The Convalescent” remained, as has been said, his last publication in book form.

Willis found all the world at Washington; among the rest, Lady Georgiana Fane, whom he presented to Mrs. Lincoln. “Fancy anticipating this at Almack’s twenty-five years ago!” he wrote of this conjunction, in a letter to Mrs. Willis. He met Charles Sumner, whom he had known in Boston, and had a long talk with him about the political situation; found Pierpont, the poet, employed as a clerk in one of the departments, and got rooms for him and Mrs. Pierpont in the house where he lodged himself;was introduced to General McClellan and to the cabinet officers, and the numerous congressmen and brigadiers who swarmed Pennsylvania Avenue and crowded the lobbies at Willard’s. He went out to all manner of receptions and dinner parties, and became quite a favorite with Mrs. Lincoln, who drove him out frequently in her barouche, had him to dineen familleat the White House, sent him flowers, and promised him a vase presented to the President by the Emperor of China. In one of his letters to the “Home Journal,” he had described her as having a “motherly expression,” whereupon she addressed him the following note:—

Executive Mansion,July 24th.Mr. N. P. Willis:Dear Sir,—It will afford me much pleasure to receive yourself and ladies[12]this evening. Of course anything Mr. Willis writes is interesting, yet, pardon my weakness, I object to the “motherly expression.” If you value my friendship, hasten to have it corrected before the public is assured that I am an old lady withspectacles. When I amforty, four years hence, I will willingly yield to the decrees oftimeand fate.Rather an indication, is it not, that years have not passeduslightly by? I rely on you for changing that expression before my age ispubliclyproclaimed.Quite a morning lecture, yet you certainly deserve it. Be kind enough to accept this modest bouquet fromYour sincere friend,Mary Lincoln.

Executive Mansion,July 24th.

Mr. N. P. Willis:

Dear Sir,—It will afford me much pleasure to receive yourself and ladies[12]this evening. Of course anything Mr. Willis writes is interesting, yet, pardon my weakness, I object to the “motherly expression.” If you value my friendship, hasten to have it corrected before the public is assured that I am an old lady withspectacles. When I amforty, four years hence, I will willingly yield to the decrees oftimeand fate.

Rather an indication, is it not, that years have not passeduslightly by? I rely on you for changing that expression before my age ispubliclyproclaimed.Quite a morning lecture, yet you certainly deserve it. Be kind enough to accept this modest bouquet from

Your sincere friend,

Mary Lincoln.

A sudden fit of sickness had hindered Willis’s plan to follow the army to Bull Run—fortunately, no doubt, as the correspondent who took his place was made prisoner. He afterwards took horseback rides into the enemy’s country, once narrowly escaping capture near Mount Vernon, and made excursions to Fortress Monroe, Manassas, Old Point Comfort, etc. On March 15, 1862, he was of the party which visited Harper’s Ferry at the invitation of the president of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad. Hawthorne, too, was of the party and reported the occasion in his article, “Chiefly about War Matters,” in the July “Atlantic” of that year. “Hawthorne is shy and reserved,” wrote Willis in one of his letters to his wife, “but I found he was a lover of mine, and we enjoyed our acquaintance very much.” Emerson and Curtis lectured in Washington while Willis was there, and Greeley dined with him in January, 1862. The novelty and excitement of life at the capital were agreeable at first, but he soon grew homesick and pined for his beloved Idlewild.

In consequence of the war, the circulation ofthe “Home Journal,” a large proportion of whose subscribers were in the South, had fallen off seriously. Willis found himself greatly straitened, and was obliged to close his country house for a time. Mrs. Willis and the children had spent the winter and spring of 1861-62 at New Bedford, with her father. In April she rented Idlewild and went with her family to pass the summer at Campton, near Plymouth, New Hampshire. In June Willis left Washington and joined her at Campton for a few days, and then returned to New York and took lodgings for himself. Morris’s health had grown so feeble that it became necessary for his partner to apply himself more closely to the management of the paper and do double work. He had been much opposed to the renting of Idlewild, and it troubled him to think of the place in the hands of strangers. He paid it a visit in August, by invitation of his tenant, a Mr. Dennis, and was very hospitably treated. In the autumn of the following year (1863) Mrs. Willis opened at Idlewild a little school for girls, in the hope of persuading her husband to leave New York and come home for life. He appreciated her energy and devotion,—shown through long years of failing health and fortune,—but he doomed himself to homeless exile, and refused to abandon his post. He was opposed to the schoolproject, as he had been to the renting of Idlewild, unreasonably, no doubt, since something of the kind had to be done. But it touched his pride, and with increasing illness there grew upon him a morbid horror of dependence on any one. He fancied that he could work better in his New York lodgings. By 1864, moreover, Morris had become quite imbecile, and the responsibilities of editorship weighed more and more heavily on Willis. He remained at New York, therefore, running up to Idlewild for an occasional visit of a day or two, over Sunday, or sometimes for a week at a time. In July, 1864, General Morris died. Willis was deeply moved as he stood by his coffin. “My beloved old friend,” he wrote, “looked wonderfully tranquil, and so sweetly noble that I could not forbear giving him a parting kiss, though William sobbed as he looked on. So passes from earth one who loved me devotedly.” After Morris’s death Willis took into partnership a young man named Hollister, who had capital and enthusiasm; but the business management of the “Home Journal” began to fall more and more upon the shoulders of its present editor, Mr. Morris Phillips.

The story of the last few years of Willis’s life is a melancholy chronicle of failing powers, and of persistent struggle with disease and narrowingfates. He had long borne up against ill health with the gay courage of a cavalier. His pen faltered, but nothing that it wrote gave signs of bitterness or discouragement. Toward the last his temper, which had been uniformly sweet, sometimes grew irritable and morbid, though nothing of this appeared in his writing. As early as 1852 he had fancied that he had consumption, but his cough turned out to be merely “sympathetic,” and his lungs were pronounced sound. His disease finally declared itself as epilepsy, and resulted at the last in paralysis and softening of the brain. He was subject for years to epileptic fits, occurring periodically, usually on the tenth day. During these attacks, so long as his strength lasted, he was extremely violent, but as he grew weaker, they simply made him unconscious, leaving him greatly prostrated when the fit was over. The true nature of his malady was, for some years, known only to his wife and his physician, Dr. Gray, who feared that it might injure Willis’s business and literary interests if it were publicly understood that his brain was affected, or in danger of being affected. Willis was himself very sensitive on this point, and begged that no stranger might see him during his attacks. Accordingly, the matter was kept secret as long as possible. After Willis’s death, one of his physicians,Dr. J. B. F. Walker, printed some “Medical Reminiscences of N. P. Willis,” in the course of which he said: “Not only was he a martyr to the agonies of sharp and sudden attacks, but he suffered all the languors of chronic disease. With the exception of Henry Heine, there has hardly been a man of letters doomed to such protracted torments from bodily disease.”

Under these trying circumstances he exhibited a persistence in his work which astonished his friends. They had not thought that such endurance was in the man. But from some underlying stratum of character, some strain of toughness inherent in his Puritan stock, he brought up resources of will and stubbornness which resisted all appeals. Though complaining sometimes in his letters that he was “pitilessly overworked,” he declared his intention of dying in harness, and clung to his desk and his lonely lodgings till the doctors pronounced him a dying man. A part of the summers of 1865 and 1866 he spent at Idlewild, but the autumn of the latter year found him still at work in the city. He was now so weak that he often fainted in the street and had to be carried to his rooms. His partner, Morris Phillips, was untiring in his attentions; and finally, early in November, he brought him home to Idlewild, Willis yieldingat last to the united entreaties of his wife, his father, and his sisters, and the imperative command of his doctor, to stop work. But he had come home only to die. He kept his room and seldom went down-stairs. During the first month he had some enjoyment of the home associations, taking pleasure in the daily visit of his children, and listening to the reading of poetry, more for its soothing effect than for any intellectual apprehension of it. He soon became helpless and slept much of the time, and when waking lived in continual visions and hallucinations. His recognition of his family was fitful during the last six or eight weeks of his life. He was watched and cared for by his wife and faithful Harriet, and no strange hand ministered to him or marked his failing consciousness. He died on the afternoon of the 20th of January, 1867,—his sixty-first birthday,—so quietly that the single watcher could not say when. He was taken to Boston, and buried in Mount Auburn. The funeral service of the Episcopal Church was read over his body in St. Paul’s Church, by the Rev. P. D. Huntington, the bookstores of the city being closed, in token of respect, while the service lasted. His pall was borne by Longfellow, Dana, Holmes, Lowell, Fields, Whipple, Edmund Quincy, Dr. Howe, Merritt Trimble, and Aldrich. “I took the flower which lies beforeme at this moment, as I write,” says Dr. Holmes, in a recent number of the “Atlantic,” “from his coffin, as it lay just outside the door of Saint Paul’s Church, on a sad, overclouded winter’s day, in the year 1867.”

The obituary notices which were published after Willis’s death made it evident that he had, in a sense, survived his own fame. They were reminiscent in tone, as though addressed to a generation that knew not Joseph. It was forty years since he had come before the public with his maiden book. It was twenty since he had put forth anything entitled to live; and meanwhile a new literature had grown up in America. The bells of morning tinkled faintly and far off, lost in the noise of fife and drum, and the war opened its chasm between the present and the past. For a time even Irving seemed sentimental and Cooper melodramatic. Yet these survive, but whether Willis, whose name has so often been joined with theirs, is destined to find still a hearing, it is for the future alone to say. “He will be remembered,” wrote his kinsman, Dr. Richard S. Storrs, “as a man eminently human, with almost unique endowments, devoting rare powers to insignificant purposes, and curiously illustrating the ‘fine irony of Nature,’ with which she often lavishes one of her choice productions on comparatively inferior ends.”

But, laying aside all question of appeal to that formidable tribunal, posterity, the many contemporaries who have owed hours of refined enjoyment to his graceful talent will join heartily with Thackeray in his assertion: “It is comfortable that there should have been a Willis.”

FOOTNOTES[1]This statement needs, however, some qualification. Mr. Clark, of Clark & Maynard, who publish Willis’s poems, tells me that there is a steady sale for these of about two hundred copies annually. Fifty years after date this is not bad. How many copies ofSomething and Other Poems, issued in 1884, will be asked for at the booksellers’ in the year of grace 1934? The copyright of most of Willis’s poems having lately expired, a cheap reprint of them has just been put forth, bearing date 1884 and forming No. 352 of “Lovell’s Library.” This seems to point to a continued popular demand. His prose writings are at present out of print. The fourth volume ofStories by American Authorscontains his “Two Buckets in a Well,” and it is understood that the publishers of that series have in mind the publication of a volume of selections from Willis’s prose.[2]The book here mentioned was her compilation,Stories of American Life by American Authors, printed in 1830, to which reference was made in chapter III. A number of Willis’s letters to Miss Mitford are published inThe Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford, from one of which the above passage is taken.[3]It was doubtless this article which encouraged Bates in theMaclise Portrait Galleryto describe Willis as a “sumph” and “N(amby) P(amby) Willis.”[4]Mrs. Child.[5]Not written by Willis.[6]In a late anthology, this poem of Willis is included under the melodramatic titleTwo Women. An author’s choice of a title is almost as much to be respected as his text. In this instance, Willis’s own selection was not only much the better, but it is interesting as probably suggested to him by lines that were favorites of his in Longfellow’s translation from Uhland:—“For, invisibly to thee,Spirits twain have crossed with me.”[7]See also his paper onThe American Drama, for an elaborate review ofTortesa, which, with all its defects, he thought the best American play.[8]See Gill’sLife of Poefor a fac-simile letter of Willis to Poe.[9]An allusion to the interlocutors in Willis’sCloisterandCabinet, dialogues between the editors of theMirrorin not very successful imitation of theNoctes Ambrosianæ.[10]Cambridge, January 13, 1844.[11]J. Addison Richards visited Idlewild to make sketches for his illustrated article inHarper’s Magazinefor January, 1858,q. v.for a full description of the place.[12]Lady G. Fane and Mrs. Clifford.

[1]This statement needs, however, some qualification. Mr. Clark, of Clark & Maynard, who publish Willis’s poems, tells me that there is a steady sale for these of about two hundred copies annually. Fifty years after date this is not bad. How many copies ofSomething and Other Poems, issued in 1884, will be asked for at the booksellers’ in the year of grace 1934? The copyright of most of Willis’s poems having lately expired, a cheap reprint of them has just been put forth, bearing date 1884 and forming No. 352 of “Lovell’s Library.” This seems to point to a continued popular demand. His prose writings are at present out of print. The fourth volume ofStories by American Authorscontains his “Two Buckets in a Well,” and it is understood that the publishers of that series have in mind the publication of a volume of selections from Willis’s prose.

[2]The book here mentioned was her compilation,Stories of American Life by American Authors, printed in 1830, to which reference was made in chapter III. A number of Willis’s letters to Miss Mitford are published inThe Friendships of Mary Russell Mitford, from one of which the above passage is taken.

[3]It was doubtless this article which encouraged Bates in theMaclise Portrait Galleryto describe Willis as a “sumph” and “N(amby) P(amby) Willis.”

[4]Mrs. Child.

[5]Not written by Willis.

[6]In a late anthology, this poem of Willis is included under the melodramatic titleTwo Women. An author’s choice of a title is almost as much to be respected as his text. In this instance, Willis’s own selection was not only much the better, but it is interesting as probably suggested to him by lines that were favorites of his in Longfellow’s translation from Uhland:—“For, invisibly to thee,Spirits twain have crossed with me.”

“For, invisibly to thee,Spirits twain have crossed with me.”

“For, invisibly to thee,

Spirits twain have crossed with me.”

[7]See also his paper onThe American Drama, for an elaborate review ofTortesa, which, with all its defects, he thought the best American play.

[8]See Gill’sLife of Poefor a fac-simile letter of Willis to Poe.

[9]An allusion to the interlocutors in Willis’sCloisterandCabinet, dialogues between the editors of theMirrorin not very successful imitation of theNoctes Ambrosianæ.

[10]Cambridge, January 13, 1844.

[11]J. Addison Richards visited Idlewild to make sketches for his illustrated article inHarper’s Magazinefor January, 1858,q. v.for a full description of the place.

[12]Lady G. Fane and Mrs. Clifford.

(decorative line)

The following is a list of the first editions of Willis’s books. In a few instances these were published first in England. In such cases the London edition only is given. Most of his later works were published simultaneously, or nearly so, in England and America. In such cases only the first American edition is given. Of the various collective editions of his verse, published since 1844, only the final and most complete is mentioned, viz., the Clark & Maynard edition of 1868 (No. 29). No really complete edition of Willis’s writings has ever been printed. The first collective edition which laid claim to being complete was entitled: The Complete Works of N. P. Willis. 1 vol., 895 pp. New York: J. S. Redfield, 1846. The thirteen volumes in uniform style, issued by Charles Scribner from 1849 to 1859, form as nearly a complete edition of Willis’s prose since 1846 as is ever likely to be made.

1. Sketches. 96 pp. Boston: S. G. Goodrich, 1827.2. Fugitive Poetry. 91 pp. Boston: Peirce & Williams, 1829.3. Poem delivered before the Society of United Brothers, at Brown University, on the Day preceding Commencement, September 6, 1831, with other poems. 76 pp. New York: J. & J. Harper, 1831.4. Melanie and Other Poems. Edited by Barry Cornwall. 231 pp. London: Saunders & Otley, 1835. The first American edition was published by Saunders & Otley, at New York, in 1837, and contained some additional pieces. 242 pp.5. Pencillings by the Way. 3 vols. London: Macrone, 1835.This was an imperfect edition. The first complete edition was published by Morris & Willis, in the “Mirror Library,” New York, 1844.6. Inklings of Adventure. 3 vols. London: Saunders & Otley, 1836.7. Bianca Visconti; or, The Heart Overtasked. A Tragedy in Five Acts. New York: Samuel Colman, 1839.8. Tortesa; or, The Usurer Matched. A Play by N. P. Willis. New York: Samuel Colman, 1839. Nos. 7 and 8 were published in one volume in England. Two Ways of Dying for a Husband. 1. Dying to keep Him; or, Tortesa the Usurer. 2. Dying to lose Him; or, Bianca Visconti. 245 pp. London: Hugh Cunningham, 1839.9. À l’Abri; or, The Tent Pitched. New York: Samuel Colman, 1839.This was published as Letters from under a Bridge, together with poems, by George Virtue, in London, 1840; and under the same title, with the addition of the “Letter to the Purchaser of Glenmary,” by Morris & Willis in the “Mirror Library,” New York, 1844.10. Loiterings of Travel. 3 vols. London: Longman, 1840.Published in America as Romance of Travel; comprising Tales of Five Lands. 1 vol. New-York: S. Colman, 1840.11. The Sacred Poems of N. P. Willis [Mirror Library]. New York, 1843.12. Poems of Passion, by N. P. Willis [Mirror Library]. New York, 1843.13. Lady Jane and Humorous Poems [Mirror Library]. New York, 1844.14. Lecture on Fashion before the New York Lyceum. New York, 1844.15. Dashes at Life with a Free Pencil. New York: Burgess, Stringer & Co., 1845.16. Rural Letters and Other Records of Thought at Leisure. New York: Baker & Scribner, 1849.17. People I Have Met. New York: Baker & Scribner, 1850.18. Life Here and There. New York: Baker & Scribner, 1850.19. Hurrygraphs. New York: Charles Scribner, 1851.20. Summer Cruise in the Mediterranean. New York: Charles Scribner, 1853.21. Fun Jottings; or, Laughs I have taken a Pen to. New York: Charles Scribner, 1853.22. Health Trip to the Tropics. New York: Charles Scribner, 1854.23. Ephemera. New York: G. W. Simmons, 1854.24. Famous Persons and Places. New York: Charles Scribner, 1854.25. Out Doors at Idlewild; or, The Shaping of a Home on the Banks of the Hudson. New York: Charles Scribner, 1855.26. The Rag Bag. A Collection of Ephemera. New York: Charles Scribner, 1855.27. Paul Fane; or, Parts of a Life Else Untold. A Novel. New York: Charles Scribner, 1857.28. The Convalescent. New York: Charles Scribner, 1859.29. The Poems, Sacred, Passionate, and Humorous of N. P. Willis. Complete edition. 380 pp. New York: Clark & Maynard, 1868.

1. Sketches. 96 pp. Boston: S. G. Goodrich, 1827.

2. Fugitive Poetry. 91 pp. Boston: Peirce & Williams, 1829.

3. Poem delivered before the Society of United Brothers, at Brown University, on the Day preceding Commencement, September 6, 1831, with other poems. 76 pp. New York: J. & J. Harper, 1831.

4. Melanie and Other Poems. Edited by Barry Cornwall. 231 pp. London: Saunders & Otley, 1835. The first American edition was published by Saunders & Otley, at New York, in 1837, and contained some additional pieces. 242 pp.

5. Pencillings by the Way. 3 vols. London: Macrone, 1835.

This was an imperfect edition. The first complete edition was published by Morris & Willis, in the “Mirror Library,” New York, 1844.

6. Inklings of Adventure. 3 vols. London: Saunders & Otley, 1836.

7. Bianca Visconti; or, The Heart Overtasked. A Tragedy in Five Acts. New York: Samuel Colman, 1839.

8. Tortesa; or, The Usurer Matched. A Play by N. P. Willis. New York: Samuel Colman, 1839. Nos. 7 and 8 were published in one volume in England. Two Ways of Dying for a Husband. 1. Dying to keep Him; or, Tortesa the Usurer. 2. Dying to lose Him; or, Bianca Visconti. 245 pp. London: Hugh Cunningham, 1839.

9. À l’Abri; or, The Tent Pitched. New York: Samuel Colman, 1839.

This was published as Letters from under a Bridge, together with poems, by George Virtue, in London, 1840; and under the same title, with the addition of the “Letter to the Purchaser of Glenmary,” by Morris & Willis in the “Mirror Library,” New York, 1844.

10. Loiterings of Travel. 3 vols. London: Longman, 1840.Published in America as Romance of Travel; comprising Tales of Five Lands. 1 vol. New-York: S. Colman, 1840.

11. The Sacred Poems of N. P. Willis [Mirror Library]. New York, 1843.

12. Poems of Passion, by N. P. Willis [Mirror Library]. New York, 1843.

13. Lady Jane and Humorous Poems [Mirror Library]. New York, 1844.

14. Lecture on Fashion before the New York Lyceum. New York, 1844.

15. Dashes at Life with a Free Pencil. New York: Burgess, Stringer & Co., 1845.

16. Rural Letters and Other Records of Thought at Leisure. New York: Baker & Scribner, 1849.

17. People I Have Met. New York: Baker & Scribner, 1850.

18. Life Here and There. New York: Baker & Scribner, 1850.

19. Hurrygraphs. New York: Charles Scribner, 1851.

20. Summer Cruise in the Mediterranean. New York: Charles Scribner, 1853.

21. Fun Jottings; or, Laughs I have taken a Pen to. New York: Charles Scribner, 1853.

22. Health Trip to the Tropics. New York: Charles Scribner, 1854.

23. Ephemera. New York: G. W. Simmons, 1854.

24. Famous Persons and Places. New York: Charles Scribner, 1854.

25. Out Doors at Idlewild; or, The Shaping of a Home on the Banks of the Hudson. New York: Charles Scribner, 1855.

26. The Rag Bag. A Collection of Ephemera. New York: Charles Scribner, 1855.

27. Paul Fane; or, Parts of a Life Else Untold. A Novel. New York: Charles Scribner, 1857.

28. The Convalescent. New York: Charles Scribner, 1859.

29. The Poems, Sacred, Passionate, and Humorous of N. P. Willis. Complete edition. 380 pp. New York: Clark & Maynard, 1868.

The following list includes the works, edited, compiled, and partly written by Willis, but not the various journals and magazines of which he was editor.

1. The Legendary. Edited by N. P. Willis. 2 vols. Boston: Samuel G. Goodrich, 1828.2. The Token. A Christmas and New Year’s Present. Edited by N. P. Willis. Boston: S. G. Goodrich, 1829.3. American Scenery. From Drawings by W. H. Bartlett. The Literary Department by N. P. Willis, Esq. 2 vols. London: George Virtue, 1840.4. Canadian Scenery. From Drawings by W. H. Bartlett. The Literary Department by N. P. Willis, Esq. 2 vols. London: George Virtue, 1842.5. The Scenery and Antiquities of Ireland. Illustrated by Drawings from W. H. Bartlett. The Literary Portion of the Work by N. P. Willis and J. Sterling Coyne, Esqs. London: George Virtue, 1842.6. The Opal. New York: J. C. Riker, 1844.7. Trenton Falls. Edited by N. Parker Willis. 90 pp. New York: George P. Putnam, 1851.8. Memoranda of the Life of Jenny Lind. By N. Parker Willis. 238 pp. Philadelphia: Robert E. Peterson, 1851.9. The Thought Blossom. A Memento. New York: Leavitt & Allen, 1854.

1. The Legendary. Edited by N. P. Willis. 2 vols. Boston: Samuel G. Goodrich, 1828.

2. The Token. A Christmas and New Year’s Present. Edited by N. P. Willis. Boston: S. G. Goodrich, 1829.

3. American Scenery. From Drawings by W. H. Bartlett. The Literary Department by N. P. Willis, Esq. 2 vols. London: George Virtue, 1840.

4. Canadian Scenery. From Drawings by W. H. Bartlett. The Literary Department by N. P. Willis, Esq. 2 vols. London: George Virtue, 1842.

5. The Scenery and Antiquities of Ireland. Illustrated by Drawings from W. H. Bartlett. The Literary Portion of the Work by N. P. Willis and J. Sterling Coyne, Esqs. London: George Virtue, 1842.

6. The Opal. New York: J. C. Riker, 1844.

7. Trenton Falls. Edited by N. Parker Willis. 90 pp. New York: George P. Putnam, 1851.

8. Memoranda of the Life of Jenny Lind. By N. Parker Willis. 238 pp. Philadelphia: Robert E. Peterson, 1851.

9. The Thought Blossom. A Memento. New York: Leavitt & Allen, 1854.

(decorative line)

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