A Weakness and All That

of mine in America of the best that I have done, and I should like that something should be there containing my best which is nothing too good. I suppose as yet that nobody is convinced that there is much in me, and I fear that they are all right. They still pat me on the head and feebly encourage me now and then.

We live in the Barberini Palace and look down from our windows over all Rome, but there is not a person in any house so dear to us as you are.

James Russell Lowell obeys his impulse and writes to Mr. Godkin

ELMWOOD, 8th Jany., 1869

ON'T think I have gone mad that I so pepper

DON'T

you with letters. I have a reason, as you will see presently. But in the first place let me thank you for the article on Miss Dickinson, which was just what I wanted and expected, for (excuse me) you preach the best lay sermons I know of. I know it is a weakness and all that, but I was born with an impulse to tell people when I like them and what they do, and I look upon you as a great benefactor. I sit under your preaching every week with indescribable satisfaction, and know just how young women feel toward their parson, but, let Mrs. Godkin take courage, I can't marry you!

My interest in the Nation is one of gratitude, and has nothing to do with my friendship for you. I am sure from what I hear said against you that you are doing great good and that you are respected. I may be wrong, but I sincerely believe you have raised the tone of the American press.

(Henry W. Longfellow to Mrs. Annie Fields)

February 28, 1871

A BENEDICTION on the Benedictines!

I knew they were great lovers of literature, but I did not know that they were also distillers of herbs and manufacturers of exquisite liqueurs!

Your charming remembrance of me on my birthday, the jolly, round, and happy little monk bedded in flowers, came safely in his wooden cradle. A thousand and a

thousand thanks!

I am ashamed to send back the basket, or bucket, empty; but I look round in vain for something to fill it. What shall I do ?

After all, the greatest grace of a gift, perhaps, is that it anticipates and admits of no return. I therefore accept yours, pure and simple; and on the whole am glad that I have nothing to send back in the basket.

Still, empty is a horrid word. myself. I make believe it is the it, knowing all the time it is not the best thing.

I try in vain to comfort

The unfinished sum

I

best thing to do, and do

(Henry W. Longfellow to George William Curtis)
February 28, 1877

HASTEN to respond to your cordial and affectionate greeting on my birthday, and to say how delightful it was to hear such words from you. It was almost as good as seeing you; but not quite.

It is a strange feeling, this of being seventy years old. I cannot say precisely what the feeling is but you will

า

Liking To Be Liked

know one of these days. It is something like that of a schoolboy who has filled one side of his slate with the figures of a very long sum, and has to turn the slate over to go on with it.

"Forging over the reef"

(James Russell Lowell to Mrs. Leslie Stephen)

I

68 BEACON STREET, Feb. 27, 1889

HAVE been forging over the reef of my seventieth birthday into the smooth water beyond without much damage to my keel, so far as I can discover.

I was dined on my birthday, and praised to a degree that would have satisfied you, most partial even of your sex. But somehow I liked it, and indeed none but a pig could have helped liking the affectionate way it was done. I suppose it is a sign of weakness in me somewhere, but I can't help it. I do like to be liked. It gives me a far better excuse for being about (and in everybody's way) than having written a fine poem does. That'll be all very well when one is under the mould. But I am not sure whether one will care for it much. So keep on liking me, won't you?

It is very droll to be seventy. Don't scold me for it I'll never do it again; but I don't feel any older, I think, and I am sure I don't feel any wiser, than I did before. 'Tis a little depressing to be reminded that one has lived so long and done so little. When I measure the length with the achievement there is a horrible overlapping, but I shall expect a certain deference. Whatever condescension I show will be multiplied by seven instead of six, remember, and precious in proportion. . .

From "Letters of James Russell Lowell," edited by Charles Eliot Norton. Copyright, 1893, by Harper & Brothers.

Dr. Holmes feels "young again at four score"

HE

September 2, 1889

ERE I am at your side among the octogenarians. . You know all about it. You know why I have not thanked you before this for your beautiful and precious tribute, which would make any birthday memorable. I remember how you were overwhelmed with tributes on the occasion of your own eightieth birthday, and you can understand the impossibility I find before me of responding in any fitting shape to all the tokens of friendship which I receive. I hope, dear Whittier, that you find much to enjoy in the midst of all the lesser trials which old age must bring with it. You have kind friends all around you, and the love and homage of your fellowcountrymen as few have enjoyed them, with the deep satisfaction of knowing that you have earned them, not merely by the gifts of your genius, but by a noble life which has ripened without a flaw into a grand and serene old age. I never see my name coupled with yours, as it often is nowadays, without feeling honored by finding myself in such company, and wishing that I were more worthy of it. . . . I am living here with my daughter-inlaw, and just as I turned this leaf I heard wheels at the door, and she got out, leading in in triumph her husband, His Honor, Judge Holmes of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, just arrived from Europe by the Scythia. I look up to him as my magistrate, and he knows me as his father, but my arms are around his neck and his mustache is sweeping my cheek, I feel young again at fourscore.

130

An Affable Princess

VII

GENIAL GOSSIP

Mrs. Pinckney of South Carolina and the mother of George III discuss domestic affairs

WE

E were received in a manner that surprized us, for tho' we had heard how good a woman the Princess of Wales was, and how very affable and easy, her behaviour exceeded everything I had heard or could imagine.

She came forward and received us at the door herself, with Princess Augusta, Princess Elizabeth, Prince William, and Prince Henry. She mett us with all the chearfulness and pleasure of a friend who was extreamely glad to see us; she gave us no time to consider how to introduce ourselves or to be at a loss what to say, for she with an air of benignity told us as soon as we entered she was very glad to see us, took Harriott by the hand and kissed her, asked her how she liked England, to wch she answered, not so well as Carolina, at wch the Princess laughed a good deal, and said it was very natural for such a little woman as she to love her own Country best. . . .

She introduced the Princes and Princesses that were with her to us, and told us we should see the rest presently; inquired how long we had been from Carolina, whether I was not frightened with the voyage, how the Children bore it, how many we had, what their ages, sons or daughters, whether Carolina was a good country, whether we had a good Governor, to wch we replied in the affirmative.

She said she was sure the King was allways pleased when his provinces had good governors; enquired the Governor's name, and said she had forgot it. She talked