oliver wendell holmes-第3部分

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for　it　as　something　which　it　was　delightful　to　consider　in　its　generic
relations；　and　I　fancy　that　the　pleasure　of　this　inquiry　more　than
consoled　him　for　such　pangs　of　misgiving　as　he　must　have　had　in　the
personal　question。　　As　commonly　happens　in　the　solution　of　such　problems；
it　was　not　solved；　he　was　very　willing　to　take　our　minds　upon　it；　and　to
incur　the　risk；　if　we　thought　it　well　and　were　willing　to　share　it。

We　came　away　rejoicing；　and　the　new　series　began　with　the　new　year
following。　　It　was　by　no　means　the　popular　success　that　we　had　hoped；
not　because　the　author　had　not　a　thousand　new　things　to　say；　or　failed　to
say　them　with　the　gust　and　freshness　of　his　immortal　youth；　but　because
it　was　not　well　to　disturb　a　form　associated　in　the　public　mind　with　an
achievement　which　had　become　classic。　　It　is　of　the　Autocrat　of　the
Breakfast　Table　that　people　think；　when　they　think　of　the　peculiar
species　of　dramatic　essay　which　the　author　invented；　and　they　think　also
of　the　Professor　at　the　Breakfast　Table；　because　he　followed　so　soon；
but　the　Poet　at　the　Breakfast　Table　came　so　long　after　that　his　advent
alienated　rather　than　conciliated　liking。　　Very　likely；　if　the　Poet　had
come　first　he　would　have　had　no　second　place　in　the　affections　of　his
readers；　for　his　talk　was　full　of　delightful　matter；　and　at　least　one　of
the　poems　which　graced　each　instalment　was　one　of　the　finest　and　greatest
that　Doctor　Holmes　ever　wrote。　　I　mean　〃Homesick　in　Heaven；〃　which　seems
to　me　not　only　what　I　have　said；　but　one　of　the　most　important；　the　most
profoundly　pathetic　in　the　language。　　Indeed；　I　do　not　know　any　other
that　in　the　same　direction　goes　so　far　with　suggestion　so　penetrating。
The　other　poems　were　mainly　of　a　cast　which　did　not　win；　the　metaphysics
in　them　were　too　much　for　the　human　interest；　and　again　there　rose　a
foolish　clamor　of　the　creeds　against　him　on　account　of　them。　　The　great
talent；　the　beautiful　and　graceful　fancy；　the　eager　imagination　of　the
Autocrat　could　not　avail　in　this　third　attempt；　and　I　suppose　the　Poet　at
the　Breakfast　Table　must　be　confessed　as　near　a　failure　as　Doctor　Holmes
could　come。　　It　certainly　was　so　in　the　magazine　which　the　brilliant
success　of　the　first　had　availed　to　establish　in　the　high　place　the
periodical　must　always　hold　in　the　history　of　American　literature。
Lowell　was　never　tired　of　saying；　when　he　recurred　to　the　first　days　of
his　editorship；　that　the　magazine　could　never　have　gone　at　all　without
the　Autocrat　papers。　　He　was　proud　of　having　insisted　upon　Holmes's　doing
something　for　the　new　venture；　and　he　was　fond　of　recalling　the　author's
misgivings　concerning　his　contributions；　which　later　repeated　themselves
with　too　much　reason；　though　not　with　the　reason　that　was　in　his　own
mind。




V。

He　lived　twenty…five　years　after　that　self…question　at　sixty；　and　after
eighty　he　continued　to　prove　that　threescore　was　not　the　limit　of　a　man's
intellectual　activity　or　literary　charm。　　During　all　that　time　the　work
he　did　in　mere　quantity　was　the　work　that　a　man　in　the　prime　of　life
might　well　have　been　vain　of　doing；　and　it　was　of　a　quality　not　less
surprising。　　If　I　asked　him　with　any　sort　of　fair　notice　I　could　rely
upon　him　always　for　something　for　the　January　number；　and　throughout　the
year　I　could　count　upon　him　for　those　occasional　pieces　in　which　he　so
easily　excelled　all　former　writers　of　occasional　verse；　and　which　he
liked　to　keep　from　the　newspapers　for　the　magazine。　　He　had　a　pride　in
his　promptness　with　copy；　and　you　could　always　trust　his　promise。　　The
printer's　toe　never　galled　the　author's　kibe　in　his　case；　he　wished　to
have　an　early　proof；　which　he　corrected　fastidiously；　but　not　overmuch；
and　he　did　not　keep　it　long。　　He　had　really　done　all　his　work　in　the
manuscript；　which　came　print…perfect　and　beautifully　clear　from　his　pen；
in　that　flowing；　graceful　hand　which　to　the　last　kept　a　suggestion　of　the
pleasure　he　must　have　had　in　it。　　Like　all　wise　contributors；　he　was　not
only　patient；　but　very　glad　of　all　the　queries　and　challenges　that　proof…
reader　and　editor　could　accumulate　on　the　margin　of　his　proofs；　and　when
they　were　both　altogether　wrong　he　was　still　grateful。　　In　one　of　his
poems　there　was　some　Latin…Quarter　French；　which　our　collective　purism
questioned；　and　I　remember　how　tender　of　us　he　was　in　maintaining　that　in
his　Parisian　time；　at　least；　some　ladies　beyond　the　Seine　said　〃Eh；
b'en；〃　instead　of　〃　Eh；　bien。〃　　He　knew　that　we　must　be　always　on　the
lookout　for　such　little　matters；　and　he　would　not　wound　our　ignorance。
I　do　not　think　any　one　enjoyed　praise　more　than　he。　　Of　course　he　would
not　provoke　it；　but　if　it　came　of　itself；　he　would　not　deny　himself　the
pleasure；　as　long　as　a　relish　of　it　remained。　　He　used　humorously　to
recognize　his　delight　in　it；　and　to　say　of　the　lecture　audiences　which
in　earlier　times　hesitated　applause；　〃Why　don't　they　give　me　three　times
three？　　I　can　stand　it！〃　　He　himself　gave　in　the　generous　fulness　he
desired。　　He　did　not　praise　foolishly　or　dishonestly；　though　he　would
spare　an　open　dislike；　but　when　a　thing　pleased　him　he　knew　how　to　say　so
cordially　and　skilfully；　so　that　it　might　help　as　well　as　delight。
I　suppose　no　great　author　has　tried　more　sincerely　and　faithfully　to
befriend　the　beginner　than　he；　and　from　time　to　time　he　would　commend
something　to　me　that　he　thought　worth　looking　at；　but　never　insistently。
In　certain　cases；　where　he　had　simply　to　ease　a　burden；　from　his　own　to
the　editorial　shoulders；　he　would　ask　that　the　aspirant　might　be
delicately　treated。　　There　might　be　personal　reasons　for　this；　but
usually　his　kindness　of　heart　moved　him。　　His　tastes　had　their
geographical　limit；　but　his　sympathies　were　boundless；　and　the　hopeless
creature　for　whom　he　interceded　was　oftener　remote　from　Boston　and　New
England　than　otherwise。

It　seems　to　me　that　he　had　a　nature　singularly　affectionate；　and　that　it
was　this　which　was　at　fault　if　he　gave　somewhat　too　much　of　himself　to
the　celebration　of　the　Class　of　'29；　and　all　the　multitude　of　Boston
occasions；　large　and　little；　embalmed　in　the　clear　amber　of　his　verse；
somewhat　to　the　disadvantage　of　the　amber。　　If　he　were　asked　he　could　not
deny　the　many　friendships　and　fellowships　which　united　in　the　asking；
the　immediate　reclame　from　these　things　was　sweet　to　him；　but　he　loved
to　comply　as　much　as　he　loved　to　be　praised。　　In　the　pleasure　he　got　he
could　feel　himself　a　prophet　in　his　own　country；　but　the　country　which
owned　him　prophet　began　perhaps　to　feel　rather　too　much　as　if　it　owned
him；　and　did　not　prize　his　vaticinations　at　all　their　worth。　　Some　polite
Bostonians　knew　him　chiefly　on　this　side；　and　judged　him　to　their　own
detriment　from　it。




VI。

After　we　went　to　live　in　Cambridge；　my　life　and　the　delight　in　it　were　so
wholly　there　that　in　ten　years　I　had　hardly　been　in　as　many　Boston
houses。　　As　I　have　said；　I　met　Doctor　Holmes　at　the　Fieldses'；　and　at
Longfellow's；　when　he　came　out　to　a　Dante　supper；　which　was　not　often；
and　somewhat　later　at　the　Saturday　Club　dinners。　　One　parlous　time　at　the
publisher's　I　have　already　recalled；　when　Mrs。　Harriet　Beecher　Stowe　and
the　Autocrat　clashed　upon　homeopathy；　and　it　required　all　the　tact　of　the
host　to　lure　them　away　from　the　dangerous　theme。　　As　it　was；　a　battle
waged　in　the　courteous　forms　of　Fontenoy；　went　on　pretty　well　through　the
dinner；　and　it　was　only　over　the　coffee　that　a　truce　was　called。　　I　need
not　say　which　was　heterodox；　or　that　each　had　a　deep　and　strenuous
conscience　in　the　matter。　　I　have　always　felt　it　a　proof　of　his　extreme
leniency　to　me；　unworthy；　that　the　doctor　was　able　to　tolerate　my　own
defection　from　the　elder　faith　in　medicine；　and　I　could　not　feel　his
kindness　less　caressing　because　I　knew　it　a　concession　to　an　infirmity。
He　said　something　like；　After　all　a　good　physician　was　the　great　matter；
and　I　eagerly　turned　his　clemency　to　praise　of　our　family　doctor。

He　was　very　constant　at　the　Saturday　Club；　as　long　as　his　strength
permitted；　and　few　of　its　members　missed　fewer　of　its　meetings。
He　continued　to　sit　at　its　table　until　the　ghosts　of　Hawthorne；
of　Agassiz；　of　Emerson；　of　Longfellow；　of　Lowell；　out　of　others　less
famous；　bore　him　company　there　among　the　younger　men　in　the　flesh。
It　must　have　been　very　melancholy；　but　nothing　could　deeply　cloud　his
most　cheerful　spirit。　　His　strenuous　interest　in　life　kept　him　alive　to
all　the　things　of　it；　after　so　many　of　his　friends　were　dead。　　The
questions　which　he　was　wont　to　deal　with　so　fondly；　so　wisely；　the　great
problems　of　the　soul；　were　all　the　more　vital；　perhaps；　because　the
personal　concern　in　them　was　increased　by　the　translation　to　some　other
being　of　the　men　who　had　so　often　tried　with　him　to　fathom　them　here。
The　last　time　I　was　at　that　table　he　sat　alone　there　among　those　great
memories；　but　he　was　as　gay　as　ever　I　saw　him；　his　wit　sparkled；　his
humor　gleamed；　the　poetic　touch　was　deft　and　firm　as　of　old；　the　serious
curiosity；　the　instant　sympathy　remained。　　To　the　witness　he　was
pathetic；　but　to　himself　he　could　only　have　been　interesting；　as　the
figure　of　a　man　surviving；　in　an　alien　but　not　unfriendly　present；　the
past　which　held　so　vast　a　part　of　all　that　had　constituted　him。　　If　he
had　thought　of　himself　in　this　way；　it　would　have　been　without　one
emotion　of　self…pity；　such　as　more　maudlin　souls　indulge；　but　with　a　love
of　knowledge　and　wisdom　as　keenly　alert　as　in　his　prime。

For　three　privileged　years　I　lived　all　but　next…door　neighbor　of　Doctor
Holmes　in　that　part　of　Beacon　Street　whither　he　removed　after　he　left　his
old　home　in　Charles　Street；　and　during　these　years　I　saw　him　rather
often。　　We　were　both　on　the　water　side；　which　means　so　much　more　than　the
words　say；　and　our　library　windows　commanded　the　same　general　view　of　the
Charles　rippling　out　into　the　Cambridge　marshes　and　the　sunsets；　and
curving　eastward　under　Long　Bridge；　through　shipping　that　increased
onward　to　the　sea。　　He　said　that　you　could　count　fourteen　towns　and
villages　in　the　compass　of　that　view；　with　the　three　conspicuous
monuments　accenting　the　different　attractions　of　it：　the　tower　of
Memorial　Hall　at　Harva