[Boston—Thursday, 27 February 1868]

Feb. 27. Longfellow’s birthday. Last night Dickens went to a supper at Lowell’s & J. passed the evening with Longfellow. L’s tragedy comes on a-pace. He looks to Fechter to help him. Dickens has doubtless done much to quicken him to write. He has two nearly finished in blank-verse, both begun since this month came in. J. returned at half past eleven bringing an unread newspaper in his pocket which L. had lent him, telling him to read something to me about Dickens and return. Ah me! We could have cried as we read! It was the saddest of sad letters written at the time the separation from his wife took place. The gentleman to whom he wrote it has died and the letter has stolen into print. I only hope the poor man may never see it.

Tonight he reads Carol & Boots & sups here with Longfellow afterward.

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