at of the people.

There were several gentlemen in the reading-room whom we both knew, one
of whom introduced me to Gurowski, who received me very cordially, and
immediately began to talk with much animation about Kossuth and Hungary,
concerning which I had recently published something. He was exceedingly
voluble, and seemed to have, even then, a remarkably copious stock of
English words at command; but his pronunciation, as before remarked, was
very imperfect, and until I grew accustomed to his accent I found it
difficult to comprehend him. This, however, made little difference to
Gurowski. He would talk to any one who would listen, without caring much
whether he was understood or not. On this occasion he soon became
engaged in a discussion with one of the gentlemen present, a Professor
in the University, who demurred to some of his statements about Hungary;
and in a short time Gurowski was foaming with rage, and formally
challenged the Professor to settle the dispute with swords or pistols.
This ingenious mode of deciding an historical controversy being blandly
declined, Gurowski, apparently dumfounded at the idea of any gentleman's
refusing so reasonable a proposition, abruptly retreated, asking me to
go with him, as he said he wished to consult me; to which request I
assented very willingly, for my curiosity was a good deal excited by his
strange appearance and evidently peculiar character.

He walked along in silence, and we soon reached his lodgings, which were
convenient and comfortable enough. He had a parlor and bedroom on the
second floor, well furnished, though in dire confusion, littered with
books, papers, clothing, and other articles, tossed about at random. He
gave me a cigar, and, sitting down, began to talk quite calmly and
rationally about the affair at the reading-room. His excitement had
entirely subsided, and he seemed to be sorry for his rudeness to the
Professor, for whom he had a high regard, and who had been invariably
kind to him. I spoke to him pretty roundly on the impropriety of his
conduct, and the folly of which he had been guilty in offering a
challenge,--a proceeding peculiarly repugnant to American, or at least
to New England notions, and which only made him ridiculous. There was
something so frank and childlike in his character, that, though I had
known him but an hour, we seemed already intimate, and from that time to
the day of his death I never had any hesitation in speaking to him