What puzzled
him was how it could be that the masonry of a fifth floor or sixth
story was often finished before the third or fourth. This I explained,
much to his satisfaction. In getting to the bottom of things he was
indefatigable.
Mr. Morley (although a lord he still remains as an author plain John
Morley) became one of our British friends quite early as editor of the
"Fortnightly Review," which published my first contribution to a
British periodical.[67] The friendship has widened and deepened in our
old age until we mutually confess we are very close friends to each
other.[68] We usually exchange short notes (sometimes long ones) on
Sunday afternoons as the spirit moves us. We are not alike; far from
it. We are drawn together because opposites are mutually beneficial to
each other. I am optimistic; all my ducks being swans. He is
pessimistic, looking out soberly, even darkly, upon the real dangers
ahead, and sometimes imagining vain things. He is inclined to see
"an officer in every bush." The world seems bright to me, and earth
is often a real heaven--so happy I am and so thankful to the kind
fates. Morley is seldom if ever wild about anything; his judgment is
always deliberate and his eyes are ever seeing the spots on the sun.
[Footnote 67: _An American Four-in-Hand in Britain.
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