The handwriting not so firm as formerly, though the signature is perfect. Shylock was the best thing he did this time,—an old man’s part!
February 7th. Fourth anniversary of our marriage. Supper, music, dancing, for a dozen of the original wedding guests,—only true lovers were invited. Mama said that every woman should be allowed to choose her own mate until she was thirty, every man till he was forty; after that the State should marry them. What a scrambling there would be in the twenty-ninth and the thirty-ninth years!
Richard Mansfield had asked me to write a play for him founded on Chamisso’s “Man Without a Shadow.” I found time for this and to give a series of talks of arts and literature in Boston, New York, Philadelphia and Newport during this year and the following. It was a time of great activity and consequent happiness.
April 1st, 1891. Began to work on Act Fourth of “The Man Without a Shadow” and sent the third act to Mansfield. Mr. Herne asks me to sign a petition that a play of his be produced. The petition opens with a letter from W. D. Howells. The moral of the play is like that of the “Kreutzer Sonata”, a plea for the single standard of conduct for man and woman. To see Mr. Howells and ask his advice. He said, “I advise you not to sign a petition to produce a play you never have read.” He thinks highly of Herne, the man and the actor, and spoke of the play as “an epoch-making drama.”
Mr. Howells was enchanting. He wore a black velvet jacket and seemed to be reading a pile of letters when I came in. He said the success of his last book was due in his opinion to the scene having been laid in New York. “Everybody likes to read about New York, only a few people about Boston. I have to describe the place I am in. If I am in Boston, I write about it; when I am in New York I write about that.”
“But New York is such a friendless place,” I said.
“Yes, it is,” Howells replied, “but it is so easy, it always seems to me to be standing about with its hands in its pockets. I can never hope to have so many pleasant friends there, or anywhere, as in Boston.”
I am sorry he is going. He will be greatly missed. Everybody loves the man though not all the novelist.
April 4th. At the Delands’ last evening. Stepniak made an urgent plea for his country, wishing Americans to bring the pressure of their disapproval on the Russian nation. He was eloquent and full of pathos.
April 5th. With J. to the Symphony Concert. The leader was ill and Kneisel conducted extremely well. They gave Beethoven’s Second Symphony: more beautiful than ever. J. much excited by the music. He said that most painters loved music, while the musicians he knew did not care much about pictures. Their ears are trained to the disadvantage of their eyes. “They are so used to looking at dots that they don’t really see.”