Curtis, "a man of letters" was born in Providence, RI ("Our American Venice"),in 1824. Winter notes that Curtis was born almost two months before the death of Byron and that he was eight when Goethe and Sir Walter Scott died. Winter mentions that Curtis's life and sensibilities have often been described by his early experiences at Brook Farm, in Roxbury, from 1840-1844, but Winter argues that Curtis already had the "Brook Farm ideal" in mind when he arrived there: "the ideal of a social existance regulated by absolute justice and adorned by absolute beauty." It was at Brook Farm that Curtis met, learned from, and was influenced by the notable residents and visitors of the place, including Hawthorne, Emerson, Charles Anderson Dana, Margaret Fuller, George Ripley, and Theodore Parker. After his early experiences at Brook Farm, Curtis traveled to "the Orient," "and found inspiration and theme in subjects that were novel because their scene was both august and remote. Curtis appears to have made an exhaustive tour of the "Orient," and Winter notes that while Curtis was an "American humorist,"he did not endeavor to be comic...he was not the humorist who grins among the sculptures of Westminster Abbey"; Curtis's humor and appreciation of things appears to have been, according to Winter, more contemplative and respectful (228-230).
Winter quotes Curtis to best describe "the spirit in which he rambled": "Great persons and events that notch time in passing, do so because Nature gave them such an excessive and exaggerated impulse that wherever they touch they leave their mark; and that intense humanity secures human sympathy beyond the most beautiful balance, which, indeed, the angels love and we are beginning to appreciate" (231).
Winter applauds Curtis for his ability to incorporate and appreciate both the past and present in his work, as well as the sense of insight that comes through in Curtis's writing. While Curtis did write some poetry, Winter claims that "to the poetic laurel he made no pretension," and cites some of Curtis's patriotic poetry ("A Rhyme of Rhode Island and the Times"-1863) as an example of his verse. According to Winter, "Poetry..was not his natural vocation," but he "was a man of deep poetic sensiblity." Winter cites Curtis's "Prue and I" and "Lotus-Eating" as examples of Curtis's poetic nature being demonstrated in his writing (231-234). Winter also cites some of Curtis's verse as part of his discussion of the "poetical feeling that existed in New England about 1855" and the politics of the region and the time; responses to the Fugitive Slave Law, "Uncle Tom's Cabin," and other events leading to the Civil War (236-240).
Winter mentions that early in his writing career, Washington Irving made the following remark to Curtis: "You young fellows are not so lucky as I was, for when I began to write there were only a few of us" (81).
Curtis was a member of Bayard Taylor's poetic group (177).
Winter met Curtis at Longfellow's home when Winter was a young poet. Longfellow also introduced the two men. Winter describes Curtis during their first meeting as "a young man, lithe, slender, faultlessly apparelled, very handsome, who rose at my approach, turning upon me a countenance that beamed with kindness, and a smile that was a welcome from the heart...He had the manner of a natural artistocrat--a manner that is born, not made; a manner that is never found except in persons who are self-centered without being selfish; who are intrinsically noble, simple, and true." Winter remarks that the two men were friends from that moment until the end of Curtis' life (224).
Winter devotes an entire chapter to Curtis and states that "It is not because he was a friend of mine that I try to assist in commemoration of him; it is because he was a great person. The career of Curtis was rounded and complete. The splendid structure of his character stands before the world like a monument of gold. Not to express homage for a public benefactor is to fail in self-respect" (225). Of Curtis, Winter claims, "It is the story of a man of genius whose pure life and splendid powers were devoted to the ministry of beauty and to the self- sacrificing service of mankind" (227).
Winter discusses Curtis' oratorical career, particulary during "that conflict, of Right against Wrong, [into which] Curtis threw himself, with all his soul." Winter's reference is to "the poetcial feeling in New England around 1855" that he claims occured in response to the political and social events that led up to and included the Civil War (240-241).
Curtis' literary career began in 1846, at the age of twenty-two (264). Curtis "made his mark" on the growing American literary tradition with his "observations" from his "Oriental travels." His satirical "Potiphar Papers" the romantic "Prue and I" published in "Putnam's Magazine" in 1852 and 1854, respectively, helped to cement his reputation. "He assumed the Easy Chair of 'Harper's Magazine,' in 1854...and he occupied it until the last." Curtis also wrote his novel "Trumps" in "Harper's." With the exception of a short break in 1873, Curtis wrote steadily for the Easy Chair for thirty-eight years and produced twenty-five hundred of these articles, as well as other publications (264-266)
Winter states that Curtis' speaking career began in 1851, with a talk titled "Contemporary Artists of Europe" given for the New York National Academy of Design. Winter states that "in 1853 he had formally adopted the Platform as a vocation; and it continued to be a part of his vocation for the next twenty years. He was everywhere popular in the lyceum, and he now brought into the more turbulent field of politics the dignity of the scholar, the refinement and grace of a gentleman, and all the varied equipments of the zealous and accomplished advocate, the caustic satirist, and the impassioned champion of the rights of man" (241).
Winter remebers first seeing Curtis speak on politics, "making an appeal for Fremont," at a convention in Fritchburg. Curtis followed Greeley on the bill of speakers. Winter states that neither Curtis nor Greeley were "worldly-wise; neither was versed in political duplicty." Winter states that "while Curtis spoke, the hearts of that multitude were first lured and entranced by the golden tones of his delicious voice, and then were shaken, as with a whirlwind, by the righteous fervor of his magnificent enthusiasm." Winter claims that while Curtis may have lacked in style in his prose," "but in the felicty of speech Curtis was supreme above all other men of his generation. (Winter notes that he is specifically referring to Curtis' speaking career from 1860-1890)" (241-243).
Winter notes that Curtis stopped doing regular speaking engagements in 1873, but never completely gave up oratory (242). According to Winter, "Oratory as it existed in America in the previous epoch has no living representative. Curtis was the last orator of the school of Everett, Sumner, and Wendell Phillips." Winter continues wiht a discussion of Curtis' oratorical influences and the models on which he based his speeches (243-245). Winter then discusses how the oratorical schools of Curtis' time no longer exist. "The oratory of a later day is characterized by colloquialism, familiarity, and comic anecdote. Curtis maintained the dignity of the old order. Some of my readers, perhaps, may remember the charm of his manner,--how subtle it was, yet seemingly how simple; how completely it convinced and satisfied; how it clarified intelligence; how it enobled feeling. One secret of it, no doubt, was its perfect sincerity. Noble himself, and speaking only for right, and truth, and beauty, he addressed nobility in others. That consideration would maintain the moral and the genial authority of his eloquence. The total effect of it, however, was attributable to his exquisite, inexplicable art" (247-248).
Winter discusses Curtis' talent at oratory in depth, as well as his careers in business and writing. Business seems to have left Curtis in debt, but he was a prolific writer; "The shackle that business imposed upon him was the shackle of drudgery. He was compelled to write profusely and without pause." Winter refers to a break-down Curtis had in October, 1873, which left him unable to write and work. Aldrich filled in for Curtis at "Harper's" until Curtis recovered; Winter maintains, however, that Curtis worked non-stop for over forty years (254).
Winter claims that "Curtis was controlled less by his imagination than by his moral sense. He had ideals, but they were were based on reason" (260-261).
Winter reprints a "threnody" he wrote a few days after Curtis died (August 31, 1892) (270-274).
Winter also notes that while Taylor, Stoddard, Stedman, Boker, Curtis, Ludlow, and the names of have been "comingled wtih those of Clapp's Bohemian associates," they "were not only not affiliated with that coterie but were distinct from it, and, in some instances, were inimical to it" (295).
Winter reprints a letter Curtis wrote him dated March 29, 1882, from Staten Island, that discusses Longfellow's death. After describing the funeral and other matters, Curtis writes: "I do not forget that it was at Longfellow's we met, and our mutual regard has the benediction of his gracious memory. The fathers are departing. I saw Emerson stand by the coffin and look at the dead face. But, in his broken state, the dead looked happier than the living" (347-348).
Winter notes that Curtis is one of the young "wandering mistrels" mentioned in Wallack's "Memories of Fifty Years": "You come upon him very pleasantly, in the society of that brilliant actor, and you hear their youthful voices blended" (267).