336 ELIZABETH GARY AGASSIZ 



replying to all the notes you received on that event- 

 ful day, it seems to me a rather heavy penalty for 

 becoming an octogenarian. But glad I am that you 

 replied to mine, and so beautifully. Indeed I do 

 remember the meeting of those two canoes; and the 

 dance, over the river from Manaos; and many an- 

 other incident and hour of that wonderful voyage. 

 I remember your freshness of interest, and readiness 

 to take hold of everything, and what a blessing to 

 me it was to have one civilized lady in sight, to 

 keep the memory of cultivated conversation from 

 growing extinct. I remember my own folly in wish- 

 ing to return home after I came out of the hos- 

 pital at Rio; and my general greenness and incapac- 

 ity as a naturalist afterwards, with my eyes gone to 

 pieces. It was all because my destiny was to be a 

 "philosopher" — a fact which then I didn't know, 

 but which only means, I think, that if a man is good 

 for nothing else, he can at least teach philosophy. 

 But I 'm going to write one book worthy of you, dear 

 Mrs. Agassiz, and of the Thayer expedition, if I am 

 spared a couple of years longer. 



I hope you were not displeased at the applause 

 the other night, as you went out. / started it; if I 

 had n't some one else would a moment later, for the 

 tension had grown intolerable. 



How delightful about the Radcliffe building. Well, 

 once more, dear Mrs. Agassiz, we both thank you for 

 this beautiful and truly affectionate letter. 

 Your affectionate 



Wm. James 



