the complete works of artemus ward, part 1-第4部分

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Journal　in　the　English　language；　received　mention　with　Hood；　with
Jerrold　and　Hook；　and　to　have　my　picture　and　my　pseudonym　as
common　in　London　as　in　New　York；　is　enough　for
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃Yours　truly；
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃A。　Ward。〃

England　was　thoroughly　aroused　to　the　merits　of　Artemus　Ward；
before　he　commenced　his　lectures　at　Egyptian　Hall；　and　when；　in
November；　he　finally　appeared；　immense　crowds　were　compelled　to
turn　away。　　At　every　lecture　his　fame　increased；　and　when
sickness　brought　his　brilliant　success　to　an　end；　a　nation
mourned　his　retirement。

On　the　evening　of　Friday；　the　seventh　week　of　his　engagement　at
Egyptian　Hall；　Artemus　became　seriously　ill；　an　apology　was　made
to　a　disappointed　audience；　and　from　that　time　the　light　of　one
of　the　greatest　wits　of　the　centuries　commenced　fading　into
darkness。　　The　Press　mourned　his　retirement；　and　a　funeral　pall
fell　over　London。　　The　laughing；　applauding　crowds　were　soon　to
see　his　consumptive　form　moving　towards　its　narrow　resting…place
in　the　cemetery　at　Kensal　Green。

By　medical　advice　Charles　Browne　went　for　a　short　time　to　the
Island　of　Jerseybut　the　breezes　of　Jersey　were　powerless。　　He
wrote　to　London　to　his　nearest　and　dearest　friendsthe　members
of　a　literary　club　of　which　he　was　a　memberto　complain　that　his
〃loneliness　weighed　on　him。〃　　He　was　brought　back；　but　could　not
sustain　the　journey　farther　than　Southampton。　　There　the　members
of　the　club　traveled　from　London　to　see　himtwo　at　a　timethat
he　might　be　less　lonely。

His　remains　were　followed　to　the　grave　from　the　rooms　of　his
friend　Arthur　Sketchley；　by　a　large　number　of　friends　and
admirers；　the　literati　and　press　of　London　paying　the　last
tribute　of　respect　to　their　dead　brother。　　The　funeral　services
were　conducted　by　the　Rev。　M。D。　Conway；　formerly　of　Cincinnati；
and　the　coffin　was　temporarily　placed　in　a　vault；　from　which　it
was　removed　by　his　American　friends；　and　his　body　now　sleeps　by
the　side　of　his　father；　Levi　Browne；　in　the　quiet　cemetery　at
Waterford；　Maine。　　Upon　the　coffin　is　the　simple　inscription：

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　〃CHARLES　F。　BROWNE；
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　AGED　32　YEARS；
　　　　　　　　　　Better　Known　to　the　World　as　'Artemus　Ward。'〃

His　English　executors　were　T。W。　Robertson；　the　playwright；　and
his　friend　and　companion；　E。P。　Hingston。　　His　literary　executors
were　Horace　Greeley　and　Richard　H。　Stoddard。　　In　his　will；　he
bequeathed　among　other　things　a　large　sum　of　money　to　his　little
valet；　a　bright　little　fellow；　though　subsequent　denouments
revealed　the　fact　that　he　left　only　a　six…thousand…dollar　house
in　Yonkers。　　There　is　still　some　mystery　about　his　finances；
which　may　one　day　be　revealed。　　It　is　known　that　he　withdrew
10；000　dollars　from　the　Pacific　Bank　to　deposit　it　with　a　friend
before　going　to　England；　besides　this；　his　London　〃Punch〃　letters
paid　a　handsome　profit。　　Among　his　personal　friends　were　George
Hoyt；　the　late　Daniel　Setchell；　Charles　W。　　Coe；　and　Mr。　Mullen；
the　artist；　all　of　whom　he　used　to　style　〃my　friends　all　the　year
round。〃

Personally　Charles　Farrar　Browne　was　one　of　the　kindest　and　most
affectionate　of　men；　and　history　does　not　name　a　man　who　was　so
universally　beloved　by　all　who　knew　him。　　It　was　remarked；　and
truly；　that　the　death　of　no　literary　character　since　Washington
Irving　caused　such　general　and　widespread　regret。

In　stature　he　was　tall　and　slender。　　His　nose　was　prominent；
outlined　like　that　of　Sir　Charles　Napier；　or　Mr。　Seward；　his　eyes
brilliant；　small；　and　close　together；　his　mouth　large；　teeth
white　and　pearly；　fingers　long　and　slender；　hair　soft；　straight；
and　blonde；　complexion　florid；　mustache　large；　and　his　voice　soft
and　clear。　　In　bearing；　he　moved　like　a　natural…born　gentleman。
In　his　lectures　he　never　smilednot　even　while　he　was　giving
utterance　to　the　most　delicious　absurdities；　but　all　the　while
the　jokes　fell　from　his　lips　as　if　he　was　unconscious　of　their
meaning。　　While　writing　his　lectures；　he　would　laugh　and　chuckle
to　himself　continually。

There　was　one　peculiarity　about　Charles　BrowneHE　NEVER　MADE　AN
ENEMY。　　Other　wits　in　other　times　have　been　famous；　but　a
satirical　thrust　now　and　then　has　killed　a　friend。　　Diogenes　was
the　wit　of　Greece；　but　when；　after　holding　up　an　old　dried　fish
to　draw　away　the　eyes　of　Anaximenes'　audience；　he　exclaimed　〃See
how　an　old　fish　is　more　interesting　than　Anaximenes；〃　he　said　a
funny　thing；　but　he　stabbed　a　friend。　　When　Charles　Lamb；　in
answer　to　the　doting　mother's　question　as　to　how　he　liked　babies；
replied；　〃b…b…boiled；　madam；　BOILED！〃　that　mother　loved　him　no
more：　　and　when　John　Randolph　said　〃THANK　YOU！〃　to　his
constituent　who　kindly　remarked　that　he　had　the　pleasure　of
PASSING　his　house；　it　was　wit　at　the　expense　of　friendship。　　The
whole　English　school　of　witswith　Douglas　Jerrold；　Hood；
Sheridan；　and　Sidney　Smith；　indulged　in　repartee。　　They　were
PARASITIC　wits。　　And　so　with　the　Irish；　except　that　an　Irishman
is　generally　so　ridiculously　absurd　in　his　replies　as　to　only
excite　ridicule。　　〃Artemus　Ward〃　made　you　laugh　and　love　him　too。

The　wit　of　〃Artemus　Ward〃　and　〃Josh　Billings〃　is　distinctively
American。　　Lord　Kames；　in　his　〃Elements　of　Criticism；〃　makes　no
mention　of　this　species　of　wit；　a　lack　which　the　future
rhetorician　should　look　to。　　We　look　in　vain　for　it　in　the
English　language　of　past　ages；　and　in　other　languages　of　modern
time。　　It　is　the　genus　American。　　When　Artemus　says　in　that
serious　manner；　looking　admiringly　at　his　atrocious　pictures；〃I
love　picturesand　I　have　many　of　thembeautiful　photographsof
myself；〃　you　smile；　and　when　he　continues；　〃These　pictures　were
painted　by　the　Old　Masters；　they　painted　these　pictures　and　then
theythey　expired；〃　you　hardly　know　what　it　is　that　makes　you
laugh　outright；　and　when　Josh　Billings　says　in　his　Proverbs；
wiser　than　Solomon's　〃You'd　better　not　know　so　much；　than　know　so
many　things　that　ain't　so；〃the　same　vein　is　struck；　but　the
text…books　fail　to　explain　scientifically　the　cause　of　our　mirth。

The　wit　of　Charles　Browne　is　of　the　most　exalted　kind。　　It　is
only　scholars　and　those　thoroughly　acquainted　with　the　SUBTILTY
of　our　language　who　fully　appreciate　it。　　His　wit　is　generally
about　historical　personages　like　Cromwell；　Garrick；　or
Shakspeare；　or　a　burlesque　on　different　styles　of　writing；　like
his　French　novel；　when　hifalutin　phrases　of　tragedy　come　from　the
clodhopper　who〃sells　soap　and　thricerefuses　a　ducal　coronet。〃

Mr。　Browne　mingled　the　eccentric　even　in　his　business　letters。
Once　he　wrote　to　his　Publisher；　Mr。　G。W。　Carleton；　who　had　made
some　alterations　in　his　MSS。：　　〃The　next　book　I　write　I'm　going
to　get　YOU　to　write。〃　　Again　he　wrote　in　1863：

〃Dear　Carl：You　and　I　will　get　out　a　book　next　spring；　which
will　knock　spots　out　of　all　comic　books　in　ancient　or　modern
history。　　And　the　fact　that　you　are　going　to　take　hold　of　it
convinces　me　that　you　have　one　of　the　most　MASSIVE　intellects　of
this　or　any　other　epoch。

〃Yours；　my　pretty　gazelle；

〃A。　Ward。〃

When　Charles　F。　Browne　died；　he　did　not　belong　to　America；　for；
as　with　Irving　and　Dickens；　the　English　language　claimed　him。
Greece　alone　did　not　suffer　when　the　current　of　Diogenes'　wit
flowed　on　to　death。　　Spain　alone　did　not　mourn　when　Cervantes；
dying；　left　Don　Quixote；　the　〃knight　of　la　Mancha。〃　　When　Charles
Lamb　ceased　to　tune　the　great　heart　of　humanity　to　joy　and
gladness；　his　funeral　was　in　every　English　and　American　household；
　and　when　Charles　Browne　took　up　his　silent　resting…place　in　the
sombre　shades　of　Kensal　Green；　JESTING　CEASED；　and　one　great
Anglo…American　heart；

　　　　　　　　　　　　　Like　a　muffled　drum　went　beating
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　Funeral　marches　to　his　grave。

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　MELVILLE　D。　LANDON。






INTRODUCTION　　BY　T。W。　ROBERTSON。

Few　tasks　are　more　difficult　or　delicate　than　to　write　on　the
subject　of　the　works　or　character　of　a　departed　friend。　　The　pen
falters　as　the　familiar　face　looks　out　of　the　paper。　　The　mind　is
diverted　from　the　thought　of　death　as　the　memory　recalls　some　happy
epigram。　　It　seems　so　strange　that　the　hand　that　traced　the　jokes
should　be　cold；　that　the　tongue　that　trolled　out　the　good　things
should　be　silentthat　the　jokes　and　the　good　things　should　remain；
and　the　man　who　made　them　should　be　gone　for　ever。

The　works　of　Charles　Farrar　Brownewho　was　known　to　the　world　as
〃Artemus　Ward〃have　run　through　so　many　editions；　have　met　with
such　universal　popularity；　and　have　been　so　widely　criticised；　that
it　is　needless　to　mention　them　here。　　So　many　biographies　have　been
written　of　the　gentleman　who　wrote　in　the　character　of　the　'cute
Yankee　Showman；　that　it　is　unnecessary　that　I　should　touch　upon　his
life；　belongings；　or　adventures。　　Of　〃Artemus　Ward〃　I　know　just　as
much　as　the　rest　of　the　world。　　I　prefer；　therefore；　to　speak　of
Charles　Farrar　Browne；　as　I　knew　him；　and；　in　doing　so；　I　can
promise　those　friends　who　also　knew　him　and　esteemed　him；　that　as　I
consider　no　〃public〃　man　so　public；　that　some　portion　of　his　work；
pleasures；　occupations；　and　habits　may　not　be　considered　private；　I
shall　only　mention　how　kind　and　noble…minded　was　the　man　of　whom　I
write；　without　dragging　forward　special　and　particular　acts　in　proof
of　my　words；　as　if　the　goodness　of　his　mind　and　character　needed　the
certificate　of　facts。

I　first　saw　Charles　Browne　at　a　literary　club；　he　had　only　been　a
few　hours　in　London；　and　he　seemed　highly　pleased　and　excited　at
finding　himself　in　the　old　city　to　which　his　thoughts　had　so　often
wandered。　　Browne　was　an　intensely　sympathetic　man。　　His　brain　and
feelings　were　as　a　〃lens；〃　and　he　received　impressions　immediately。
No　man　could　see　him　without　liking　him　at　once。　　His　manner　was
straightforward　and　genial；　and　had　in　it　the　dignity　of　a
gentleman；　tempered；　as　it　were；　by　the　fun　of　the　humorist。　　When
you　heard　him　talk　you　wanted　to　make　much　of　him；　not　because　he
was　〃Artemus　Ward；〃　but　because　he　was　himself；　for　no　one　less
resembled　〃Artemus　Ward〃　than　his　author　and　creator；　Charles　Farrar
Browne。　　But　a　few　weeks　ago　it　was　remarked　to　me　that　authors　were