Or, to change the figure, he is Brillat-Savarin, he is Delmonico, at a banquet. The five hundred guests think they know it is a good banquet or a bad one, but they don’t absolutely know, until Delmonico puts in his expert-evidence. Then they know. That is, they know until Brillat-Savarin rises and knocks Delmonico’s verdict in the head. After that, they don’t know what they do know, as a general thing.
Now in my little private jury I haven’t any representative of the top crust, the select few, the critical minority of the world; consequently, although I am able to know beforehand whether the general public will think my book a good one or a bad one, I never can know whether it really is a good one or a bad one until the professional reviewers, the experts, shall have spoken.
So, as I have said, I always wait, with anxiety, for their report. Concerning my last book the experts have now delivered their verdict. You will naturally suppose that it has set me at rest. No, you are in error. I am as much bothered as I was before. This surprises you?—and you think my mind is wandering? Wait, and read the evidence, and you will see, yourself, that it is of an unsettling nature. I am going to be fair: I will make no quotation that is not genuine; I will not alter or amend the text in any way.
Celebrities of the time who couldn’t come (explain why) and who could. (Boss Tweed. He was there.)
Although I was utterly unknown, every one of the most celebrated men of that day, was invited to come. It has always been my pride that that distinction was shown me. I hope it will not be regarded as immodest in me if I name some of these. First in the list by every right is Grant—scene-photograph—anecdote (grand description of his services). General Grant—he was not able to come. Sheridan—scene-photograph—had just finished his great Indian campaign, and was tired—of disturbances—and—he was not present.
Sherman—scene-photo—Lt. Gen—was head of the Army and was reforming the rest of it—he did not need reforming himself—and was obliged to be absent.
Gen. Thomas—he couldn’t come.
Gen. Logan wanted to come, but was not well and could not sleep where there was noise.
Admiral Farragut—just at that time a child was born to—not to him, and I don’t remember now who it was born to, and now I come to think, I believe it was not born that year—but anyway he couldn’t come.
General Lee was delayed—so was Longstreet
Commodore Vanderbilt engagement Peter Cooper, Depew (very young) engagement Horace Greeley
P. of Wales (26 or 27) photo. tried to send regrets but was overcome by his feelings.
Gladstone and Disraeli
The present Kaiser (about 3 yrs old) sent regrets—was overworked and frail in health—trying to learn German.
Longfellow, Holmes, Whittier, Bryant, Emerson, Lowell Cleveland, mayor of Buffalo.
Andrew Johnson
Every one of these illustrious men was sorry, and sent regrets;—even——lamentations. But it is something that they wanted to come.
Boss Tweed, Heenan,—and have a number of photos from Sing Sing,—or a group—in penitentiary costume. These came. I do not know their names, but they were all public men and served the State.
My photo—Fuller’s—both young.
F’s conscience—take a shovel and dig for it.
As soon as a man recognizes that he has drifted into age, he gets reminiscent. He wants to talk and talk; and not about the present or the future, but about his old times. For there is where the pathos of his life lies—and the charm of it. The pathos of it is there because it was opulent with treasures that are gone, and the charm of it is in casting them up from the musty ledgers and remembering how rich and gracious they were.
Yes, and when a man gets old he wants to explain his past. He calls it that; but as a rule what he really wants to do is to whitewash it.
1 comment