"Even the faithfulness of his friendships was turned into reproach.
"Him in whom New England was embodied as never before, making a part of every fibre of his soul, we have heard charged with want of patriotism.
"There were certain things and certain men with whom his essentially aristocratic nature could not sympathize, but he was American to the core. Just after Bull Run he wrote to a friend, 'If the event of this day has left the people of the North in the same grim and bloody mood in which it has left me, it will be a costly victory to the South.'
"But it is unworthy of this noble man to defend him from imputations which never touched him. As the years go by, his countrymen will grow more and more proud of him, more and more satisfied that it is, after all, something considerable to be only a genius."
ON HOOSAC MOUNTAIN.
BY EDWARD D. GUILD.
One day, when all the city street
Lay sultry in the summer heat,
I stood on Hoosac's rocky crest,
And drank a draught of joy and rest.
The bracing Berkshire breezes blew
Across the hills, and sweeping through
The grateful valleys, gently fanned
The sun-scorched brow of Greylock grand.