dy been made in these pages, and of
which Field wrote to his friend Cowen the week they were published: "I
think they will create somewhat of a sensation; I have put a good deal
of work upon them." All the pieces of verse read by Field at the
Indianapolis convention also appear in "Culture's Garland," three of
them being included in the article on "Mr. Isaac Watts, Tutor," of
which "The Merciful Lad" was one of Field's favorites:

_THE MERCIFUL LAD

Through all my life the poor shall find
In me a constant friend,
And on the weak of every kind
My mercy shall attend.

The dumb shall never call on me
In vain for kindly aid,
And in my hands the blind shall see
A bounteous alms display'd.

In all their walks the lame shall know
And feel my goodness near,
And on the deaf will I bestow
My gentlest words of cheer.

'Tis by such pious works as these--
Which I delight to do--
That men their fellow-creatures please,
And please their Maker, too._

Field was immensely tickled with the British gravity of one of his
critics, who ridiculed this imitation of Dr. Watts, because, forsooth,
he could not comprehend how the dumb could call, the blind see, or the
lame walk, while he wanted to know what gracious effect the gentlest
words could produce on the ears of the deaf.

Throughout "Culture's Garland" Field is the unsparing satirist of
contemporary humbug and pretence--social, political, and literary--and
that perhaps accounts for its failure to achieve an immediate popular
success. I, for one, am glad that so late as December, 1893, and after
he had tasted the sweets of popular applause, with its attendant
royalties, he had the courage to write of it to a friend in Boston, "I
am not ashamed of this little book, but, like the boy with the
measles, I am sorry for it in spots."

"Culture's Garland" really cleared the way for Field's subsequent
literary success. It taught him the lesson that his average daily
newspaper work had not body enough to fill out the covers of a book.
With grim determination he set himself the task to master the art of
telling stories in prose. He was absolutely confident of himself in
verse, but to his dying day he was never quite satisfied with anything
he wrote in prose. His poems went to the printer almost exactly as
they were originally composed. Nearly all of his tales were written
over and over again with fastidious pains before they were comm