Dr. Holmes's social nature, as expressed in conversation and in his
books, drew him into communication with a very large number of
persons. It cannot be said, however, in this age marked by altruisms,
that he was altruistic; on the contrary, he loved himself, and made
himself his prime study--but as a member of the human race, he had his
own purposes to fulfill, his own self-appointed tasks, and he
preferred to take men only on his own terms. He was filled with
righteous indignation, in reading Carlyle, to find a passage where,
hearing the door-bell ring one morning when he was very busy, he
exclaimed that he was afraid it was "the man Emerson!" Yet Dr. Holmes
was himself one of the most carefully guarded men, through his years
of actual production, who ever lived and wrote. His wife absorbed her
life in his, and mounted guard to make sure that interruption was
impossible. Nevertheless, he was eminently a lover of men, or he could
not have drawn them perpetually to his side.
His writings were never aimed too high; his sole wish was to hit the
heart, if possible; but if a shot hit the head also, he showed a
childlike pride in the achievement.
When the moment came to meet men face to face, what unrivaled gayety
and good cheer possessed him! He was king of the dinner-table during a
large part of the century. He loved to talk, but he was excited and
quickened by the conversation of others, for reverence was never
absent from his nature. How incomparable his gift of conversation was,
it will be difficult, probably impossible, for any one to understand
who had never known him. It was not that he was wiser, or wittier, or
more profound, or more radiant with humor, than some other
distinguished men; the shades of Macaulay, Sydney Smith, De Quincey,
and Coleridge rise up before us from the past, and among his
contemporaries we recall the sallies of Tom Appleton, the charm of
Agassiz, of Cornelius Felton, and others of the Saturday Club; but
with Dr. Holmes sunshine and gayety came into the room. It was not a
determination to be cheerful or witty or profound; but it was a
natural expression, like that of a child, sometimes overclouded and
sometimes purely gay, but always open to the influences around him,
and ready for "a good time." His power of self-excitement seemed
inexhaustible. Given a dinner-table, with light and color, and
somebody occasionally to throw the ball, his spirits would rise and
coruscate astonishingly. He was not unaware if men whom he considered
his superiors were present; he was sure to make them understand that
he meant to sit at their feet and listen to them, even if his own
excitement ran away with him. "I've talked too much," he often said,
with a feeling of sincere penitence, as he rose from the table. "I
wanted to hear what our guest had to say." But the wise guest, seizing
the opportunity, usually led Dr. Holmes on until he forgot that he was
not listening and replying. It was this sensitiveness, perhaps, which
made his greatest charm--a power of sympathy which led him to
understand what his companion would say if he should speak, and made
it possible for him to talk in a measure for others as well as to
express himself.
Nothing, surely, could be more unusual and beautiful than such a gift,
nor any more purely his own. His conversation reminded one of those
beautiful _danseuses_ of the South upon whom every eye is
fastened, by whom every sense is fascinated, but who dance up to their
companions, and lead them out, and make them feel all the exhilaration
of the occasion, while the leader alone possesses all the enchantment
and all the inspiration. Of course conversation of this kind is an
outgrowth of character. His reverence was one source of its
inspiration, and a desire to do everything well which he undertook. He
was a faithful friend and a keen appreciator; he disliked profoundly
to hear the depreciation of others. His character was clear-cut and
defined, like his small, erect figure; perfect of its kind, and
possessed of great innate dignity, veiled only by delightful,
incomparable gifts and charms.
Our acquaintance and friendship with him lasted through many years,
beginning with my husband's early association. I think their
acquaintance began about the time when the doctor threatened to hang
out a sign, "The smallest fevers gratefully received," and when the
young publisher's literary enthusiasm led him to make some excuse for
asking medical advice.
The very first letter I find in Dr. Holmes's handwriting is the
following amusing note accompanying the manuscript copy of "Astraea:
The Balance of Illusions." The note possibly alludes to "Astraea" as
the poem to be written.
$100.00.
MY DEAR SIR,--The above is an argument of great weight to all those
who, like the late John Rogers, are surrounded by a numerous family.
I will incubate this golden egg two days, and present you with the
resulting chicken upon the third. Yours very truly,