[Boston—Saturday, 11 October 1873]
Saturday Octr 11th Helen & Alice Towne have come to pass Sunday with us. Charles Sumner, Longfellow, Greene, Dr. Holmes came to dine. Mr. Sumner seemed less strong than of late and I fancied he suffered somewhat while at table during the evening—but he told me he was working at his desk or reading during 14 consecutive hours not infrequently at present as he was in the habit of doing when uninterrupted by friendly visits. He said he was very fond of the passive exercise of reading; the active exercise of composition was of course agreeable in certain moods, but reading was a never ending delight. He spoke of Lord Brougham and Mrs Norton and her two beautiful sisters—both he & Mr. Longfellow recalled them in their youthful loveliness but Mr. Sumner said when he was in England the last time he saw the Duchess of Somerset who was a most poetic looking creature in her youth and (I believe) the youngest of the three sisters, so changed he could never have guessed who it might be. She was grown a huge redfaced woman. (Longfellow laughed, referring to her second marriage and said—yes, she had turned a Somerset!) Dr. Holmes sparkled and corruscated as I seldom heard him before. We are more than ever convinced that no one since Sydney Smith was ever so brilliant, so witty, spontaneous, naif, and unfailing as Dr. Holmes.
He talked much about his class in College. “There never was such vigor in any class before it seems to me. Almost every member turns out sooner or later distinguished for something. We have had every grade of moral status from a criminal to a chief justice and we never let anyone of them drop. We keep hold of their hands year after year and lift up the weak and failing ones till they are at last redeemed. Ah there was one exception. Years ago we voted to cast a man out who had been a defaulter or who had committed some offense of that nature. The poor fellow sank down and before the next year when we repented of this decision, he had gone too far down and presently died. But we have kept all the rest.
“Every fourth man in our class is a poet. Sam. Smith belongs to our class who wrote My Country ’tis of thee. Sam Smith will live when Longfellow, Whittier and all the rest of us have gone into oblivion—and yet what is there in those verses to make them live? Do you remember the line—“like that above.” I asked Sam. what “that” referred to—he said that rapture!! (the expression of the rapid talker’s face of contempt as he said this was one of the most amusing possible).
“Even the odds and ends of our class have turned out something—there’s George Tyler Bigelow for example—who came to be Chief Justice.
“The Warrens belonged to our class, a queer family the Warrens—who tried to trace their family to the De Warens who came over with William the Conqueror in 1066—but found the eldest son a short distance back had been dropped off the family tree and lost altogether because he was dissipated and a poor fellow. When Dr. John Warren died he left his memoirs to be put together by his brother, or his friend Dr O.W. Holmes. I was saved a most unpleasant task by the brother turning up and doing the work. Queer man that brother. He looked ten years older than he was, like Caliban. Calibans look always ten years older than they are. A perfect potato of a man—if five hundred pieces of a man were flung together from different points and stuck they could not have been more awkwardly concocted than he was.
“James Freeman Clarke was in our class. Ever read his history of the ten religions? Very good book—nobody knows how much Clarke is till he reads that book. How he surprises us from time to time. Came out well about “bolting” with regard to Butler the other day, writes good verses too—not as good as mine—but good verses.”
“Longfellow I wish I could make you talk about yourself”—but I never do said L. quietly. “I know you never do but you confessed to me once”—no I don’t think I ever did said L. laughing--
Greene was for the most part utterly speechless. He attended with great assiduity to his dinner which was a good one and Longfellow was watchful and kind enough to send him little choice things to eat which he thought he would enjoy.
Holmes was abstemious and never ceased talking—“most men write too much. I would rather risk my future fame upon one lyric than upon ten volumes. But I have said Boston is the hub of the universe. I will rest upon that.”
All this report is singularly dry compared with the wit and humor which radiated about the table. We laughed till the tears ran down our cheeks. Longfellow was intensely amused. I have not seen him laugh so much for many a long day. We ladies sat at the table long after coffee and cigars in order to hear the talk.
Holmes talked exquisitely of the women who come to him for literary advice and assistance. Esther C. Carpenter is his literary daughter. He has only seen her once, but he has been a faithful correspondent and assistant to her.
Sumner said he had been much displeased by a remark Prof. Sterry Hunt made to him a few days ago. He said Mr. Agassiz was an impediment in the path of science. What did such men as Hunt and John Fiske mean by underrating a man who has given such books to the world as Agassiz has done, not to speak of his untiring efforts in the other avenues of influence. It means just this said Holmes, Agassiz will not listen to the Darwinian theory—his whole effort is on the other side—now Agassiz is no longer young and I was reading the other day in a book on the Sandwich Islands of an old Fejie man who had been carried away among strangers but who prayed he might be carried home that his brains might be beaten out in peace by his son according to the custom of those lands. It flashed over me then that our sons beat out our brains in the same way. They do not walk in our ruts of thoughts or begin exactly where we leave off but they have a new stand point of their own. At present the Darwinian theory can be nothing but an hypothesis—the important links of proof are missing and cannot be supplied; but in the myriad ages there may be new developments.
I thought the young ladies looked a little tired sitting, so about nine o’clock we left the table—still the talk went on for about 4 hours when they broke up.
