uth is that Gurowski spared nobody, or scarcely anybody, in
his personal criticisms. Of all his vast range of acquaintance in New
England, Felton, Longfellow, and Lowell were the only persons of note of
whom he spoke with uniform respect. It was really painful to see how
utterly his vast knowledge and his great powers of mind were rendered
worthless by a childishness of temper and a habit of contradiction which
made it almost impossible for him to speak of anybody with moderation
and justice. He had also a sort of infernal delight in detecting the
weak points of his acquaintances, which he did with fearful quickness
and penetration. The slightest hint was sufficient. He saw at a glance
the frail spot, and directed his spear against it. Failings the most
secret, peculiarities the most subtle, which had, perhaps, been hidden
from the acquaintances of years, seemed to reveal themselves at the
first glance of his single eye.

He was very fond of controversy, and would prolong a discussion from day
to day with apparently unabated interest. I remember once we had a
discussion about some point of mediaeval history of which I knew little,
but about which I feigned to be very positive, in order to draw out the
stores of his knowledge, which was really immense in that direction.
After a hot dispute of several hours we parted, leaving the question as
unsettled as ever. The next day I called at his lodgings early in the
afternoon. I knocked at the door of his room. He shouted, "Come in"; but
as I opened the door I heard him retreating into his adjacent bedroom.
He thrust his head out, and, seeing who it was, came back into the
parlor, absolutely in a state of nature. He had not even his spectacles
on. In his hand he held a pair of drawers, which he had apparently been
about to assume when I arrived. Shaking this garment vehemently with one
hand, while with the other he gave me a cigar, he broke out at once in a
torrent of argument on the topic of the preceding day. I made no reply;
but at the first pause suggested that he had better dress himself. To
this he paid no attention, but stamped round the room, continuing his
argument with his usual vehemence and volubility. Half an hour had
elapsed, when some one knocked. Gurowski roared, "Come in!" A
maid-servant opened the door, and of course instantly retreated. I
turned the key, and again entreated the Count to put on his clothes. He
did not comply, but kept on with his argument. Pres