at Concord. Emerson met them at the railway station with his carryall. He
had on an old cylinder hat which had evidently seen good service, and yet
became him remarkably. He was interested to hear what George William
Curtis thought about politics, and to find that it agreed closely with
the opinion of his friend, Judge Hoar. The Cranchs had a delightful
visit.

Cranch's baritone voice was like his poem, the "Riddle," deep, rich and
sonorous. He might have earned a larger income with it, perhaps, than he
did by writing and painting. He sang comic songs in a manner peculiarly
his own,--as if the words were enclosed in a parenthesis,--as much as to
say, "I do not approve of this, but I sing it just the same," and this
made the performance all the more amusing. He sang Bret Harte's "Jim" in
a very effective manner, and he often sang the epitaph on Shakespeare's
tomb,

"Good friend, for Jesus sake forbeare,"

as a recitative, both in English and Italian,--_In questa tomba_.
He seemed to bring out a hidden force in his singing, which was not
apparent on ordinary occasions. His reading of poetry was also fine, but
he depended in it rather too much on his voice, too little on the meaning
of the verse. It was not equal to Celia Thaxter's reading.

The same types of physiognomy continually reappear among artists. William
M. Hunt looked like Horace Vernet, and Cranch in his old age resembled
the Louvre portrait of Tintoretto, although his features were not so
strong. He used to say in jest that he was descended from Lucas Cranach,
but that the second vowel had dropped out. He cared as little for the
fashions as poets and artists commonly do, but there was no dandy in