546 



THE CENTURY MAGAZINE. 



a political convention. In replying to Mr. 

 Lowell I mentioned this circumstance, add- 

 ing: « Governor Anderson, with characteristic 

 modesty, says that you have doubtless for- 

 gotten him; but I do not believe that any one 

 who ever met so charming a man as Governor 

 Anderson— Colonel Anderson, I think he was 

 when you saw him— could forget him.» 

 This is Mr. Lowell's reply: 



((Elmwood, Cambridge, Mass., 



May 17, 1890. 



«Dear Miss Clarke: Do I remember 

 Charles Anderson,— colonel or governor mat- 

 ters not,— the handsome, fair-haired, brilliant 

 Norseman who, with all his refinement, had a 

 look as if he would cheerfully have gone out 

 with his, battle-axe to a holmgang? One is 

 not blest with such?- appariiiqns so often as 

 to fei^et theto. I suppose the yellow hair is 

 silver now, but men like him do not grow 

 older. May I ask of your kindness to convey 

 to him my warmest salutations ? 



« If I said that birds were better than men 

 I was not to be taken too seriously. But you 

 shall not put me down in that peremptory 

 fashion. I did n't say they were better than wo- 

 men, did I ? You know I did n't, nor ever will ! 



« I have listened more warily to my robins 

 since your letter, and find that I was right, 

 though I take no credit to myself for what 

 was merely a matter of familiar memory. 

 During the love-making season they may, and 

 often do, sing at any hour of the day. 



«You will be glad to hear that my few 

 acres are very birdy this year, and many 

 trees full of new homes and songs. I had 

 heard such stories of the usurping habits of 

 the English sparrow which has been natur- 

 alized here that I feared to find our native 

 birds diminished. But I think it is not so. 

 How I love creatures that can both fly and 

 sing! 'T is what we all would if we could. 



« There is something very pleasant to me 

 in your letters, and I thank you for them. 

 For the first time in my life I have been 

 seriously ill this winter, and am still to a 

 certain extent invalided by my physician. 

 The less I feel myself worth, the pleasanter 

 it is to hear that I have been something to 

 somebody, especially to one who loves Tenny- 

 son, so easily the master of us all. 



« Faithfully yours, 



« J. R. Lowell.)) 



In my second letter I had ventured upon an 

 expression of my admiration for Mr. Lowell, 

 and, feeling that no words of my own would 



express my meaning with sufficient delicacy, 

 I had made use of a quotation from Tenny- 

 son. It is to this that Mr. Lowell refers in 

 the last paragraph of his letter. 



But now I found myself in an embarrassing 

 position. I felt that I ought not to intrude 

 longer upon Mr. Lowell, and yet would it be 

 courteous to one of his age and position to 

 permit him to write the last letter ? I finally 

 decided there could be nothing presumptuous 

 in writing again, if I made it evident that I 

 did not expect him to respond. 



But his unfailing courtesy would not permit 

 him to drop the correspondence in that man- 

 ner, as the following letter testifies: 



((Elmwood, Cambridge, Mass., 



May 27, 1890. 



((Dear Miss Clarke: A line more to thank 

 you for your very cordial and in all ways wel- 

 come letters. You will understand why I 

 cannot undertake any additional regular cor- 

 respondence, however agreeable. 



(( This gives me the chance to make a cor- 

 rection. In my first note to you I mentioned 

 that I had been led to raise my opinion of the 

 robin as a solo singer by the fine performance 

 of one which I had heard this year. But I 

 had been deluded. The bird which had shaken 

 my opinion turns out to have been a rose- 

 breasted grossbeck. All the first part of his 

 song is so like that of the robin that I am 

 still puzzled by him sometimes; but as he goes 

 on he is tempted into variations, voluntaries, 

 and raptures of which the robin is quite in- 

 capable. It is the difference between Shelley 

 and Shenstone. I had seen him only once be- 

 fore in my life, and never heard him. But this 

 ytjar two pairs of them are, I hope, building 

 within my boundaries, and the males sing 

 amorpeans from the tops of neighboring 

 trees. It is a pleasure to see as well as to 

 hear them sing, for this lyrical ecstasy makes 

 their wings quiver v?ith the delight of it. 'T is 

 a great joy to have them in my old age. 



(( I must n't have more of your sympathy 

 than I deserve— pleasant as it is. I am feel- 

 ing very well, but have to be very careful of 

 myself, which is a bore. I have made the 

 wholesome discovery that at seventy one gets 

 beyond middle life. Faithfully yours, 



(( J. R. Lowell.)) 



I did not know then that these letters were 

 penned when Mr. Lowell was suffering from a 

 disease which had compelled him to give up out- 

 door exercise and continuous literary labor, 

 and which a few months later ended his life. 



Mary A. Clarke. 



