Concord is at present to be noted as the residence of Mr. Emerson and of Mr. Hawthorne, two of those many men of letters of whose presence Boston and its neighborhood have reason to be proud.  Of Mr. Emerson I have already spoken.  The author of the “Scarlet Letter” I regard as certainly the first of American novelists.  I know what men will say of Mr. Cooper,—­and I also am an admirer of Cooper’s novels.  But I cannot think that Mr. Cooper’s powers were equal to those of Mr. Hawthorne, though his mode of thought may have been more genial, and his choice of subjects more attractive in their day.  In point of imagination, which, after all, is the novelist’s greatest gift, I hardly know any living author who can be accounted superior to Mr. Hawthorne.

Very much has, undoubtedly, been done in Boston to carry out that theory of Colonel Newcome’s—­Emollit mores, by which the Colonel meant to signify his opinion that a competent knowledge of reading, writing, and arithmetic, with a taste for enjoying those accomplishments, goes very far toward the making of a man, and will by no means mar a gentleman.  In Boston nearly every man, woman, and child has had his or her manners so far softened; and though they may still occasionally be somewhat rough to the outer touch, the inward effect is plainly visible.  With us, especially among our agricultural population, the absence of that inner softening is as visible.

I went to see a public library in the city, which, if not founded by Mr. Bates, whose name is so well known in London as connected with the house of Messrs. Baring, has been greatly enriched by him.  It is by his money that it has been enabled to do its work.  In this library there is a certain number of thousands of volumes—­a great many volumes, as there are in most public libraries.  There are books of all classes, from ponderous unreadable folios, of which learned men know the title-pages, down to the lightest literature.  Novels are by no means eschewed,—­are rather, if I understood aright, considered as one of the staples of the library.  From this library any book, excepting such rare volumes as in all libraries are considered holy, is given out to any inhabitant of Boston, without any payment, on presentation of a simple request on a prepared form.  In point of fact, it is a gratuitous circulating library open to all Boston, rich or poor, young or old.  The books seemed in general to be confided to young children, who came as messengers from their fathers and mothers, or brothers and sisters.  No question whatever is asked, if the applicant is known or the place of his residence undoubted.  If there be no such knowledge, or there be any doubt as to the residence, the applicant is questioned, the object being to confine the use of the library to the bona fide inhabitants of the city.  Practically the books are given to those who ask for them, whoever they may be.  Boston contains over 200,000 inhabitants, and all those 200,000 are entitled to them.  Some twenty men and women are kept employed from morning till night in carrying on this circulating library; and there is, moreover, attached to the establishment a large reading-room supplied with papers and magazines, open to the public of Boston on the same terms.