could be more amusing than the boyish pettishness with which, in
speaking of the rareness of best company, he said, "We often found
ourselves left to the society of cats and fools."

I find the following note in a brief diary: "October 20, 1868. Last
night Mr. Emerson gave his second lecture. It was full of touches of
light which dropped from him, to us, his listeners, and made us burn
as with a kind of sudden inspiration of truth. He was beautiful both
to hear and see. He spoke of poetry and criticism....

"He discovered two reporters present and spoke to them, saying, 'It is
not allowed.' Whereat they both replied: 'They were only at work for
their own gratification. Of course I could say nothing more; but
afterward the Lord smote one of them and he came and confessed.' When
he returned after speaking he brought one of the two bouquets which he
found upon his desk. 'I bring you back your flowers,' he said gently.
There was no loud applause last evening; but there were little shivers
of delight or approbation running over the audience from time to time,
like breezes over a cornfield."

Emerson was always faithful to his appreciation of Channing's poems.
When "Monadnock" was written, he made a special visit to Boston to
talk it over, and the fine lines of Channing were always ready in his
memory, to come to the front when called for. His love and loyalty to
Elizabeth Hoar should never be forgotten, in however imperfect a
rehearsal of his valued companionships. One morning at breakfast I
heard him describing her attributes and personality in the most tender
and engaging way to Mrs. Stowe, who had never known her, which I would
give much to be able to reproduce.