第 3 节
作者:
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sympathy。 With all such he was most winningly tender; most intelligently
patient。 I suppose no great author was ever more visited by letter and
in person than he; or kept a faithfuler conscience for his guests。 With
those who appeared to him in the flesh he used a miraculous tact; and I
fancy in his treatment of all the physician native in him bore a
characteristic part。 No one seemed to be denied access to him; but it
was after a moment of preparation that one was admitted; and any one who
was at all sensitive must have felt from the first moment in his presence
that there could be no trespassing in point of time。 If now and then
some insensitive began to trespass; there was a sliding…scale of
dismissal that never failed of its work; and that really saved the author
from the effect of intrusion。 He was not bored because he would not be。
I transfer at random the impressions of many years to my page; and I
shall not try to observe a chronological order in these memories。 Vivid
among them is that of a visit which I paid him with Osgood the publisher;
then newly the owner of the Atlantic Monthly; when I had newly become the
sole editor。 We wished to signalize our accession to the control of the
magazine by a stroke that should tell most in the public eye; and we
thought of asking Doctor Holmes to do something again in the manner of
the Autocrat and the Professor at the Breakfast Table。 Some letters had
passed between him and the management concerning our wish; and then
Osgood thought that it would be right and fit for us to go to him in
person。 He proposed the visit; and Doctor Holmes received us with a mind
in which he had evidently formulated all his thoughts upon the matter。
His main question was whether at his age of sixty years a man was
justified in seeking to recall a public of the past; or to create a new
public in the present。 He seemed to have looked the ground over not only
with a personal interest in the question; but with a keen scientific zest
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