ociety of the Saturday Club, and in the
very _general_ respect manifested in all circles in Boston for culture or
knowledge in every form--in which respect it is certainly equalled by no
city on earth--I often forgot newspapers and politics and war, and lived
again in memory at Heidelberg and Munich, recalling literature and art. I
heard, a day or two after my first Saturday, that I had passed the grand
ordeal successfully, or _summa cum magna laude_, and that Dr. Holmes, in
enumerating divers good qualities, had remarked that I was modest. Every
stranger coming to Boston has a verdict or judgment passed on him--he is
numbered and labelled at once--and it is really wonderful how in a few
days the whole town knows it.

I had met with Emerson many years before in Philadelphia, where I had
attracted his attention by remarking in Mrs. James Rush's drawing-room
that a vase in a room was like a bridge in a landscape, which he recalled
twenty years later. With Dr. Holmes I had corresponded. Lowell! "that
reminds me of a little story."

There was some "genius of freedom"--_i.e._, one who takes liberties--who
collected autographs, and had not even the politeness to send a written
request. He forwarded to me this printed circular:

"DEAR SIR: As I am collecting the autographs of distinguished
Americans, I would be much obliged to you for your signature. Yours
truly, --- ---"

While I was editing _Vanity Fair_ I received one of these circulars. I
at once wrote:--

"DEAR SIR: It gives me great pleasure to comply with your request.
CHARLES G. LELAND."

I called the foreman, and said, "Mr. Chapin, please to set this up and
pull half-a-dozen proofs." It was done, and I sent one to the autograph-
chaser. He was angry, and answered impertinently. Others I sent to
Holmes and Lowell. The latter thought that the applicant was a great
fool not to understand that such a printed document was far more of a
curiosity than a mere signature. I met with Chapin afterwards, when in
the war. He had with him a small company of printers, all of whom had
set up my copy many a time. Printers are always polite men. They all
called on me, and having no cards, left cigars, which were quite as
acceptable at that time of tobacco-famine.

Amid all the horrors and anxieties of that dreadful year, while my old
school-mate, General George B. McClellan, was delaying and demanding more
men--_mas y mas y mas_--I still had as man