[Boston—Wednesday, 15 November 1865]
November fifteenth. Our Wedding Day! Jamie was filled with happiness by the gift of “Cant[i]cles.” He sent me flowers beautiful enough for Eden. Early in the morning before the soft mist had been filled with sunbeams, a flash of pigeons alighting on the roof of the large building by the water; presently at a signal we could not understand, they took flight and swept round through sunbeams looking like flying silver wings. This they repeated again and again making a faint rushing sound as they went. The exquisite color as they swayed from sunlight into shadow was as beautiful as anything on earth. We took it for an omen. Certainly such things are not without their signification if the interpreter is only near and what interpreter is so true as the loving human soul. Love, shall be our wings then to carry us in faith through shadow and sunshine, into rest.
Longfellow and Prof. Greene came to dinner and Longfellow brought me a glowing bouquet. He said good just things of Aldrich, he said, where he writes out of his own experience it is sweet singing and true poetry, where he pores over literature and allows himself to write out the forms of another, he does his own muse injustice.
All agree government has not done right about Walt Whitman. They cast him out of a good office for what some official in power considered bad verses.
Longfellow described two soldiers who came to his door to beg the other night, one had his hand in his pocket and said, “Will you please give something to a poor soldier who lost his hand at Gettysburg?” “Did you lose your hand at Gettysburg” said the poet interested immediately and putting his own hand in his pocket for another purpose “let me see it”. Oh said the man you won’t wish to see it. I don’t care about showing my hand, but said Longfellow unsuspectingly and sympathizingly you won’t mind showing it to me. Then the fellow turned round suddenly and said, Well if you’re so particular as that I don’t care and went away suddenly carrying his two safe hands along with him in his pocket.
Prof. Greene with his scholarly manner related a story of Franklin at dinner in Paris when the question of deterioration of the American physique was agitated. There were four stalwart Americans on one side, four puny Frenchmen on the other side of the table; nevertheless Franklin took the side of the decadence of his people very strongly thereby exciting the choler of his friends, finally Franklin said, my friends suppose we settle this discussion by measurement—then the fun may be imagined and the twinkle of Franklin’s eyes as the four giant Americans, sound in limb, arose.
Our guests left us early for a Dante evening. Greene is a thorough Italian having resided there many years. And Longfellow loves to reread his translation with him line by line.
I went down town with Jamie and fell asleep in his office. We did not get home till 12 o’clk.
