fashionables of a day. Kate Field, who has been somewhat unwisely canonized by an injudicious annotator, was much in Newport, equally fearless in body and mind, and perhaps rather limited than enlarged by early contact with Italy and Mrs. Browning. She would come in from a manly boating-trip and fling herself on the sofa of the daintiest hostess, where the subsequent arrival of the best-bred guests did not disturb her from her position; but nothing would have amused her more than the deification which she received after death from some later adorers of her own sex. I find the following sketches of different Newport visitors in a letter dated September 2, 1869:— “We had an elder poet in Mr. [William Cullen] Bryant, on whom I called, and to my great surprise he returned it. I never saw him before. There is a little hardness about him, and he seems like one who has been habitually bored, but he is refined and gentle—thinner, older, and more sunken than his pictures—eyes not fine, head rather narrow and prominent; delicate in outline. He is quite agreeable, and ⸺ chatted to him quite easily. I saw him several times, but he does not warm one. “At Governor Morgan’s I went to a reception for the [General] Grants. He is a much more noticeable man than I expected, and I should think his head would attract attention anywhere, and Richard Greenough [the sculptor] thought the same—and so imperturbable—without even a segar! Mrs. Grant I found intelligent and equable.... Sherman was there, too, the antipodes of Grant; nervous and mobile, looking like a country schoolmaster. He said to Bryant, in my hearing, ‘Yes, indeed! I know Mr. Bryant; he’s one of the veterans! When I was a boy at West Point he was a veteran. He used to edit a newspaper then!’ “This quite ignored Mr. Bryant’s poetic side, which Sherman possibly may not have quite enjoyed. Far more interesting than this, I thought, was a naval reception where Farragut was given profuse honors, yet held them all as a trivial pleasure compared to an interview with his early teacher, Mr. Charles Folsom, the superintendent of the University Printing-Office at Cambridge. To him the great admiral returned again and again, and we saw them sitting with hands clasped, and serving well enough, as some one suggested, for a group of ‘War and Peace,’ such as the sculptors were just then portraying.”