far　transcended　my　home…kept　experience　that　it　began　to　seem　altogether
  visionary。
  Neither　Fields　nor　Doctor　Holmes　smoked；　and　I　had　to　confess　that　I　did
  not；　but　Lowell　smoked　enough　for　all　three；　and　the　spark　of　his　cigar
  began　to　show　in　the　waning　light　before　we　rose　from　the　table。　　The
  time　that　never　had；　nor　can　ever　have；　its　fellow　for　me；　had　to　come　to
  an　end；　as　all　times　must；　and　when　I　shook　hands　with　Lowell　in　parting；
  he　overwhelmed　me　by　saying　that　if　I　thought　of　going　to　Concord　he
  would　send　me　a　letter　to　Hawthorne。　　I　was　not　to　see　Lowell　again
  during　my　stay　in　Boston；　but　Doctor　Holmes　asked　me　to　tea　for　the　next
  evening；　and　Fields　said　I　must　come　to　breakfast　with　him　in　the
  morning。
  XI。
  I　recall　with　the　affection　due　to　his　friendly　nature；　and　to　the
  kindness　afterwards　to　pass　between　us　for　many　years；　the　whole　aspect
  of　the　publisher　when　I　first　saw　him。　　His　abundant　hair；　and　his　full
  〃beard　as　broad　as　ony　spade；〃　that　flowed　from　his　throat　in　Homeric
  curls；　were　touched　with　the　first　frost。　　He　had　a　fine　color；　and　his
  eyes；　as　keen　as　they　were　kind；　twinkled　restlessly　above　the　wholesome
  russet…red　of　his　cheeks。　　His　portly　frame　was　clad　in　those　Scotch
  tweeds　which　had　not　yet　displaced　the　traditional　broadcloth　with　us　in
  the　West；　though　I　had　sent　to　New　York　for　a　rough　suit；　and　so　felt
  myself　not　quite　unworthy　to　meet　a　man　fresh　from　the　hands　of　the
  London　tailor。
  Otherwise　I　stood　as　much　in　awe　of　him　as　his　jovial　soul　would　let　me；
  and　if　I　might　I　should　like　to　suggest　to　the　literary　youth　of　this　day
  some　notion　of　the　importance　of　his　name　to　the　literary　youth　of　my
  day。　　He　gave　aesthetic　character　to　the　house　of　Ticknor　&　Fields；　but
  he　was　by　no　means　a　silent　partner　on　the　economic　side。　　No　one　can
  forecast　the　fortune　of　a　new　book；　but　he　knew　as　well　as　any　publisher
  can　know　not　only　whether　a　book　was　good；　but　whether　the　reader　would
  think　so；　and　I　suppose　that　his　house　made　as　few　bad　guesses；　along
  with　their　good　ones；　as　any　house　that　ever　tried　the　uncertain　temper
  of　the　public　with　its　ventures。　　In　the　minds　of　all　who　loved　the　plain
  brown　cloth　and　tasteful　print　of　its　issues　he　was　more　or　less
  intimately　associated　with　their　literature；　and　those　who　were　not
  mistaken　in　thinking　De　Quincey　one　of　the　delightfulest　authors　in　the
  world；　were　especially　grateful　to　the　man　who　first　edited　his　writings
  in　book　form；　and　proud　that　this　edition　was　the　effect　of　American
  sympathy　with　them。　　At　that　day；　I　believed　authorship　the　noblest
  calling　in　the　world；　and　I　should　still　be　at　a　loss　to　name　any　nobler。
  The　great　authors　I　had　met　were　to　me　the　sum　of　greatness；　and　if　I
  could　not　rank　their　publisher　with　them　by　virtue　of　equal　achievement；
  I　handsomely　brevetted　him　worthy　of　their　friendship；　and　honored　him　in
  the　visible　measure　of　it。
  In　his　house　beside　the　Charles；　and　in　the　close　neighborhood　of　Doctor
  Holmes；　I　found　an　odor　and　an　air　of　books　such　as　I　fancied　might
  belong　to　the　famous　literary　houses　of　London。　　It　is　still　there；　that
  friendly　home　of　lettered　refinement；　and　the　gracious　spirit　which　knew
  how　to　welcome　me；　and　make　the　least　of　my　shyness　and　strangeness；　and
  the　most　of　the　little　else　there　was　in　me；　illumines　it　still；　though
  my　host　of　that　rapturous　moment　has　many　years　been　of　those　who　are
  only　with　us　unseen　and　unheard。　　I　remember　his　burlesque　pretence　that
  morning　of　an　inextinguishable　grief　when　I　owned　that　I　had　never　eaten
  blueberry　cake　before；　and　how　he　kept　returning　to　the　pathos　of　the
  fact　that　there　should　be　a　region　of　the　earth　where　blueberry　cake　was
  unknown。　　We　breakfasted　in　the　pretty　room　whose　windows　look　out
  through　leaves　and　flowers　upon　the　river's　coming　and　going　tides；　and
  whose　walls　were　covered　with　the　faces　and　the　autographs　of　all　the
  contemporary　poets　and　novelists。　　The　Fieldses　had　spent　some　days　with
  Tennyson　in　their　recent　English　sojourn；　and　Mrs。　Fields　had　much　to
  tell　of　him；　how　he　looked；　how　he　smoked；　how　he　read　aloud；　and　how　he
  said；　when　he　asked　her　to　go　with　him　to　the　tower　of　his　house；　〃Come
  up　and　see　the　sad　English　sunset！〃　which　had　an　instant　value　to　me　such
  as　some　rich　verse　of　his　might　have　had。　　I　was　very　new　to　it　all；　how
  new　I　could　not　very　well　say；　but　I　flattered　myself　that　I　breathed　in
  that　atmosphere　as　if　in　the　return　from　life…long　exile。　　Still　I
  patriotically　bragged　of　the　West　a　little；　and　I　told　them　proudly　that
  in　Columbus　no　book　since　Uncle　Tom's　Cabin　had　sold　so　well　as　'The
  Marble　Faun'。　　This　made　the　effect　that　I　wished；　but　whether　it　was
  true　or　not；　Heaven　knows；　I　only　know　that　I　heard　it　from　our　leading
  bookseller；　and　I　made　no　question　of　it　myself。
  After　breakfast；　Fields　went　away　to　the　office；　and　I　lingered；　while
  Mrs。　Fields　showed　me　from　shelf　to　shelf　in　the　library；　and　dazzled　me
  with　the　sight　of　authors'　copies；　and　volumes　invaluable　with　the
  autographs　and　the　pencilled　notes　of　the　men　whose　names　were　dear　to　me
  from　my　love　of　their　work。　　Everywhere　was　some　souvenir　of　the　living
  celebrities　my　hosts　had　met；　and　whom　had　they　not　met　in　that　English
  sojourn　in　days　before　England　embittered　herself　to　us　during　our　civil
  war？　　Not　Tennyson　only；　but　Thackeray；　but　Dickens；　but　Charles　Reade；
  but　Carlyle；　but　many　a　minor　fame　was　in　my　ears　from　converse　so　recent
  with　them　that　it　was　as　if　I　heard　their　voices　in　their　echoed　words。
  I　do　not　remember　how　long　I　stayed；　I　remember　I　was　afraid　of　staying
  too　long；　and　so　I　am　sure　I　did　not　stay　as　long　as　I　should　have　liked。
  But　I　have　not　the　least　notion　how　I　got　away；　and　I　am　not　certain
  where　I　spent　the　rest　of　a　day　that　began　in　the　clouds；　but　had　to　be
  ended　on　the　common　earth。　　I　suppose　I　gave　it　mostly　to　wandering　about
  the　city；　and　partly　to　recording　my　impressions　of　it　for　that　newspaper
  which　never　published　them。　　The　summer　weather　in　Boston；　with　its　sunny
  heat　struck　through　and　through　with　the　coolness　of　the　sea；　and　its
  clear　air　untainted　with　a　breath　of　smoke；　I　have　always　loved；　but　it
  had　then　a　zest　unknown　before；　and　I　should　have　thought　it　enough
  simply　to　be　alive　in　it。　　But　everywhere　I　came　upon　something　that　fed
  my　famine　for　the　old；　the　quaint；　the　picturesque；　and　however　the　day
  passed　it　was　a　banquet；　a　festival。　　I　can　only　recall　my　breathless
  first　sight　of　the　Public　Library　and　of　the　Athenaeum　Gallery：　great
  sights　then；　which　the　Vatican　and　the　Pitti　hardly　afterwards　eclipsed
  for　mere　emotion。　　In　fact　I　did　not　see　these　elder　treasuries　of
  literature　and　art　between　breakfasting　with　the　Autocrat's　publisher　in
  the　morning；　and　taking　tea　with　the　Autocrat　himself　in　the　evening；　and
  that　made　a　whole　world's　difference。
  XII。
  The　tea　of　that　simpler　time　is　wholly　inconceivable　to　this　generation；
  which　knows　the　thing　only　as　a　mild　form　of　afternoon　reception；　but　I
  suppose　that　in　1860　very　few　dined　late　in　our　whole　pastoral　republic。
  Tea　was　the　meal　people　asked　people　to　when　they　wished　to　sit　at　long
  leisure　and　large　ease；　it　came　at　the　end　of　the　day；　at　six　o'clock；　or
  seven；　and　one　went　to　it　in　morning　dress。　　It　had　an　unceremonied
  domesticity　in　the　abundance　of　its　light　dishes；　and　I　fancy　these　did
  not　vary　much　from　East　to　West；　except　that　we　had　a　Southern　touch　in
  our　fried　chicken　and　corn　bread；　but　at　the　Autocrat's　tea　table　the
  cheering　cup　had　a　flavor　unknown　to　me　before　that　day。　　He　asked　me　if
  I　knew　it；　and　I　said　it　was　English　breakfast　tea；　for　I　had　drunk　it　at
  the　publisher's　in　the　morning；　and　was　willing　not　to　seem　strange　to
  it。　　〃Ah；　yes；〃　he　said；　〃but　this　is　the　flower　of　the　souchong；　it　is
  the　blossom；　the　poetry　of　tea；〃　and　then　he　told　me　how　it　had　been
  given　him　by　a　friend；　a　merchant　in　the　China　trade；　which　used　to
  flourish　in　Boston；　and　was　the　poetry　of　commerce；　as　this　delicate
  beverage　was　of　tea。　　That　commerce　is　long　past；　and　I　fancy　that　the
  plant　ceased　to　bloom　when　the　traffic　fell　into　decay。
  The　Autocrat's　windows　had　the　same　outlook　upon　the　Charles　as　the
  publisher's；　and　after　tea　we　went　up　into　a　back　parlor　of　the　same
  orientation；　and　saw　the　sunset　die　over　the　water；　and　the　westering
  flats　and　hills。　　Nowhere　else　in　the　world　has　the　day　a　lovelier　close；
  and　our　talk　took　something　of　the　mystic　coloring　that　the　heavens　gave
  those　mantling　expanses。　　It　was　chiefly　his　talk；　but　I　have　always
  found　the　best　talkers　are　willing　that　you　should　talk　if　you　like；　and
  a　quick　sympathy　and　a　subtle　sense　met　all　that　I　had　to　say　from　him
  and　from　the　unbroken　circle　of　kindred　intelligences　about　him。　　I　saw
  him　then　in　the　midst　of　his　family；　and　perhaps　never　afterwards　to
  better　advantage；　or　in　a　finer　mood。　　We　spoke　of　the　things　that　people
  perhaps　once　liked　to　deal　with　more　than　they　do　now；　of　the　intimations
  of　immortality；　of　the　experiences　of　morbid　youth；　and　of　all　those
  messages　from　the　tremulous　nerves　which　we　take　for　prophecies。　　I　was
  not　ashamed；