I have a memorandum which would reach from here to Idlewild, filled with the names of notables and celebrities, whom I have met in the short space of a year.
We do matters quickly here, among the celestials. I used to think life sped fast in the great cities of London, Paris, and New York, but we live faster here. With every means of travelling which human ingenuity can invent—flying machines, balloons, the will and the magnet—we fairly outdo thought and light, which you consider emblems of rapidity on earth.
Morris and I made a point of visiting Byron, Moore, Hunt, Scott, and that clique. You must bear in mind that we do not all live on one point of space _here_; among so many thousand million, billion, trillion, quadrillion, sextillion, and countless illions, there must be some persons who are further apart than Morris and I, who are side by side!
It is a peculiarity which you Yankees seldom think of, that Englishmen can’t endure to live in America. Well, that peculiarity is just as active after they “shuffle off the mortal coil.” They must have their little England, even in the spirit world.
So I telegraphed to that quarter of the celestial planet that two strangers from the great emporium of intellect, and civilization, New York City, were about to visit that locality. We so arranged our journey as to arrive about a day after the dispatch had reached them.
It was proposed that we should meet at the beautiful villa belonging to the Countess of Blessington.
I can assure you that on arriving there it was with a slightly palpitating heart I ascended the noble steps of her residence. The Countess met us graciously, and by her vivacity and charming candor dispelled the feeling of modest diffidence as to our merits, naturally awakened by the thought of being presented to those illustrious persons who so long held sway over English literature.
Ere we were aware, we were ushered into the midst of a hilarious group of authors, who welcomed us in a most cordial manner.
I did not need to have them introduced to me by name, as I recognized each readily from likenesses I had seen on earth.
Lord Byron’s countenance is much handsomer and more spiritualized in expression than any portrait of him extant. I noticed that the deformity of his foot, which had been a severe affliction to him on earth, was no longer apparent.