se acts
proceed always upon a broad & high plane, never by accident or
pressure of circumstance upon a narrow or low one. There are
majorities that are proud of more than one of the nation's great
servants, but I believe, & I think I know, that you are the only one
of whom the entire nation is proud. Proud & thankful.

Name & address are lacking here, & for a purpose: to leave you no
chance to make my words a burden to you and a reproach to me, who
would lighten your burdens if I could, not add to them.

Irving died in October, and Clemens ordered a wreath for his funeral. To
MacAlister he wrote:

I profoundly grieve over Irving's death. It is another reminder.
My section of the procession has but a little way to go. I could
not be very sorry if I tried.

Mark Twain, nearing seventy, felt that there was not much left for him to
celebrate; and when Colonel Harvey proposed a birthday gathering in his
honor, Clemens suggested a bohemian assembly over beer and sandwiches in
some snug place, with Howells, Henry Rogers, Twichell, Dr. Rice, Dr.
Edward Quintard, Augustus Thomas, and such other kindred souls as were
still left to answer the call. But Harvey had something different in
view: something more splendid even than the sixty-seventh birthday feast,
more pretentious, indeed, than any former literary gathering. He felt
that the attainment of seventy years by America's most distinguished man
of letters and private citizen was a circumstance which could not be
moderately or even modestly observed. The date was set five days later
than the actual birthday--that is to say, on December 5th, in order that
it might not conflict with the various Thanksgiving holidays and
occasions. Delmonico's great room was chosen for the celebration of it,
and invitations were sent out to practically every writer of any
distinction in America, and to many abroad. Of these nearly two hundred
accepted, while such as could not come sent pathetic regrets.

What an occasion it was! The flower of American literature gathered to
do honor to its chief. The whole atmosphere of the place seemed
permeated with his presence, and when Colonel Harvey presented William
Dean Howells, and when Howells had read another double-barreled sonnet,
and introduced the guest of the evening with the words, "I will not say,
'O King, live forever,' but, 'O King, live as long as you like!'" and
Mark Twain rose, his snow-white