I cannot tell you, my dear Mr. Fields, how much I thank you for your
most kind letter and parcel, which, after sending three or four
emissaries all over London to seek, (Mr. ---- having ignored the
matter to my first messenger,) was at last sent to me by the Great
Western Railway,--I suspect by the aforesaid Mr. ----, because,
although the name of the London bookseller was dashed out, a
_long-tailed_ letter was left just where the "p" would come in ----,
and as neither Bonn's nor Whittaker's name boasts such a grace, I
suspect that, in spite of his assurance, the packet was in the
Strand, and neither in Ave Maria Lane nor in Henrietta Street, to
both houses I sent. Thank you a thousand times for all your
kindness. The orations are very striking. But I was delighted with
Dr. Holmes's poems for their individuality. How charming a person he
must be! And how truly the portrait represents the mind, the lofty
brow full of thought, and the wrinkle of humor in the eye! (Between
ourselves, I always have a little doubt of genius where there is no
humor; certainly in the very highest poetry the two go
together,--Scott, Shakespeare, Fletcher, Burns.) Another charming
thing in Dr. Holmes is, that every succeeding poem is better than
the last. Is he a widower, or a bachelor, or a married man? At all
events, he is a true poet, and I like him all the better for being a
physician,--the one truly noble profession. There are noble men in
all professions, but in medicine only are the great mass, almost the
whole, generous, liberal, self-denying, living to advance science
and to help mankind. If I had been a man I should certainly have
followed that profession. I rejoice to hear of another Romance by
the author of "The Scarlet Letter." That is a real work of genius.
Have you seen "Alton Locke"? No novel has made so much noise for a
long time; but it is, like "The Saint's Tragedy," inconclusive.
Between ourselves, I suspect that the latter part was written with
the fear of the Bishop before his eyes (the author, Mr. Kingsley, is
a clergyman of the Church of England), which makes the one volume
almost a contradiction of the others. Mrs. Browning is still at
Florence, where she sees scarcely any English, a few Italians, and
many Americans.
Ever most gratefully yours.