[Boston—Friday, 12 January 1872]
Jany 12. Bret Harte was here at breakfast. It is curious to see his feeling with regard to society. For purely literary society with its affectations and contempts he has no sympathy. He has at length chosen New York as his residence and among the Schuylers, Sherwoods and their friends he appears to find what he enjoys. There is evidently a gêne about people and life here, and provincialisms which he found would hurt him. He is very sensitive and keen, with a love and reverence for Dickens almost peculiar in this coldly critical age. Bryant he finds very cold and totally unwilling to lead the conversation as he should do when they are together, as he justly remarks, he being so much younger—but never a word without cart and horses to fetch it.
Bret Harte has a queer absent-minded way of spending his time, letting the hours slip by as if he had not altogether learned their value yet. It is a miracle to us how he lives for he writes very little. Thus far I suppose he has had money from J.R.O. & Co., but I fancy they have done with giving out money save for a quid pro quo.
Charlotte Cushman has been reading to great houses with acceptance. Longfellow has just sent me another poem to read, “The Baron of St. Castine.” It is very beautiful. He said the other day sadly enough to “J” “an old man should be married but should not get married.”
Five coffee houses and the lodging house in Lincoln St. still in hand. 4 Coffee houses are skating finally & the 5th will soon follow.
Jamie is lecturing, is bubbling over with experiences, is writing an article on Tennyson to read at a small reunion here next week—and the world is full of sweetness and occupation and as of all comes Light.
The weather has been dry and, at times, warm as Rome.
