them-Henry Longfellow. The singer of "Hiawatha " was always, good company at these gatherings-full of matter, wise, genial; Emerson let off some of his best philosophic crackers among them; Lowell supplied the prime motive power of enthusiasm, and his sarcasms excellently sharpened the more delicate wit of the Autocrat of the Breakfast Table. The dinners usually were held at "Parker's;" but once the party went to "Porter's," in Cambridge, and there indulged in canvas-back ducks and "mongrel goose," with a good deal of egg-flip afterwards-all these creature comforts being specialities at "Porter's." This was a famous Nox Ambrosiana: they sat late, and marched home through snow, chanting a chorus then popular under the name of "Puttyrum." It must have been Lowell who started "Puttyrum,” and we need not find fault with him for allowing the voices of these high-minded men of letters to be wafted to us for once in tones of exceeding hilarity.

For years Longfellow sent his best detached poems to The Atlantic, beginning in 1857 with "Santa Filomena," and, between that year and 1876, writing for the periodical over forty of his best poems.

In 1858, "The Courtship of Miles Standish" followed up "Evangeline," as a further experiment in hexameters. Its design was to picture the deeds and sufferings of the primitive Plymouth Colony, and the sombre nature of the subject is relieved by the maidenly graces of "Priscilla.” Miles Standish is a busy man, and, moreover, sheepish with women, so he commissions John Alden to go and woo Priscilla to become Mrs. Standish. Poor John Alden is loath to do the job, for he himself loves the girl;

but he blurts out the message as bravely as any man could do-aye, in spite of a snubbing.

"Still John Alden went on, unheeding the words of Priscilla, Urging the suit of his friend, explaining, persuading, expanding ; Spoke of his courage and skill, and of all his battles in Flanders, How with the people of God he had chosen to suffer affliction, How, in return for his zeal, they had made him Captain of Plymouth;

He was a gentleman born, could trace his pedigree plainly
Back to Hugh Standish of Duxbury Hall, in Lancashire, England,
Who was the son of Ralph, and the grandson of Thurston de
Standish ;

Heir unto vast estates, of which he was basely defrauded,

Still bore the family arms, and had for his crest a cock argent
Combed and wattled gules, and all the rest of the blazon.

He was a man of honour, of noble and generous nature;

Though he was rough, he was kindly; she knew how during the winter

He had attended the sick, with a hand as gentle as woman's;
Somewhat hasty and hot, he could not deny it, and headstrong,
Stern as a soldier might be, but hearty, and placable always,
Not to be laughed at and scorned, because he was little of
stature;

For he was great of heart, magnanimous, courtly, courageous,
Any woman in Plymouth, nay, any woman in England,

Might be happy and proud to be called the wife of Miles Standish ! But as he warmed and glowed, in his simple and eloquent language,

Quite forgetful of self, and full of the praise of his rival,

Archly the maiden smiled, and, with eyes overrunning with laughter,

Said, in a tremulous voice, 'Why don't you speak for yourself, John?""

Priscilla knew all the while the true state of matters in John Alden's heart, and she reciprocated its warm feel

ings. So, in the end, Miles had to stand aside, and Priscilla wedded the more lovable of two uncommonly bashful warriors.

For beauty of description or breadth of motive, “The Courtship of Miles Standish" does not bear comparison with "Evangeline," but it gives us glimpses of some historic New England characters, and creditably renders into some sort of poetry the dutiful, rigid, frigid kind of lives that the men who founded the State of Massachusetts led, in the fear of the Lord.

L

CHAPTER XI.

ONGFELLOW was now on the pinnacle of pros

perity. His books sold in such quantities as to guarantee him a large yearly income. Thus he had felt warranted, in 1854, after about eighteen years of academic work as a teacher, in resigning his Harvard Professorship, to be free for purely literary pursuits. He was indubitably the handsomest, wealthiest, kindliest, best-mannered author in America; and he was also the most popular author. He and his beautiful wife and his five children filled the Craigie House, for the greater part of every year, with the sunshine of a hospitable and well-ordered family. All was managed in this home in the frankest manner of America; its latch-string was ever out, for the dwelling, like the dwellings of the Acadians, was "open as day and the hearts of the owners." Nevertheless, the poet was never disturbed in it; when he chose to mingle with his family and his friends, they welcomed him; but, in the sanctuary of his royally-furnished library, he found an anchorite's quiet when he wished. Perhaps he felt the curiosity of the public intrusive to a galling degree at times; still he encouraged it, and for hours of a morning he would

receive calls from the inquisitive, or sit at his table writing scores of autographs for far-away strangers. Such patience might spring in part from fondness for even undiscriminating admiration; but it arose still more from unfailing benignity of nature. Why should people wish to see him, or have his autograph, except to add a pleasure to their lives? The pleasure was granted in every case that was at all reasonable. "Yesterday" (so runs the poet's diary for January 9, 1857), "I wrote, sealed, and directed, seventy autographs." Thus many of his working hours were filched away. But "here," he records one day, "is a letter I shall not answer. The writer, entirely unknown, says: 'Now I want you to write me a few lines for a young lady's album, to be written as an Acrostic to read My Dearest One. If you will please imagine yourself a young man loving a beautiful young lady, who has promised to be his wife, and then write as you would for yourself, you will much oblige one who has been an ardent admirer of your poems.'" The postscript to this request was "Send bill." And all sorts of rubbish like this were daily sifted by the unmurmuring recipient.

Felton, the jocund scholar, Sumner, the man of action, and the impulsive, helpful Charles Ward were still Longfellow's close intimates; and to these he had added the great Swiss leader in science, Agassiz, who would resign his beloved laboratory and museum at any call from Longfellow, to spend an hour, or a whole evening, in the Craigie House library, discussing "Hiawatha" or "Miles Standish" as eagerly and acutely as if he had not been born in Tell's country, nor had spent youth and man