oliver wendell holmes-第4节

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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　Harvard；　the　obelisk　on　Bunker　Hill；　and　in　the　centre
of　the　picture　that　bulk　of　Tufts　College　which　he　said　he　expected　to
greet　his　eyes　the　first　thing　when　he　opened　them　in　the　other　world。
But　the　prospect；　though　generally　the　same；　had　certain　precious
differences　for　each　of　us；　which　I　have　no　doubt　he　valued　himself　as
much　upon　as　I　did。　　I　have　a　notion　that　he　fancied　these　were　to　be
enjoyed　best　in　his　library　through　two　oval　panes　let　into　the　bay　there
apart　from　the　windows；　for　he　was　apt　to　make　you　come　and　look　out　of
them　if　you　got　to　talking　of　the　view　before　you　left。　　In　this　pleasant
study　he　lived　among　the　books；　which　seemed　to　multiply　from　case　to
case　and　shelf　to　shelf；　and　climb　from　floor　to　ceiling。　　Everything　was
in　exquisite　order；　and　the　desk　where　he　wrote　was　as　scrupulously　neat
as　if　the　sloven　disarray　of　most　authors'　desks　were　impossible　to　him。
He　had　a　number　of　ingenious　little　contrivances　for　helping　his　work；
which　he　liked　to　show　you；　for　a　time　a　revolving　book…case　at　the
corner　of　his　desk　seemed　to　be　his　pet；　and　after　that　came　his
fountain…pen；　which　he　used　with　due　observance　of　its　fountain
principle；　though　he　was　tolerant　of　me　when　I　said　I　always　dipped　mine
in　the　inkstand；　it　was　a　merit　in　his　eyes　to　use　a　fountain　pen　in
anywise。　　After　you　had　gone　over　these　objects　with　him；　and　perhaps
taken　a　peep　at　something　he　was　examining　through　his　microscope；　he　sat
down　at　one　corner　of　his　hearth；　and　invited　you　to　an　easy　chair　at　the
other。　　His　talk　was　always　considerate　of　your　wish　to　be　heard；　but　the
person　who　wished　to　talk　when　he　could　listen　to　Doctor　Holmes　was　his
own　victim；　and　always　the　loser。　　If　you　were　well　advised　you　kept
yourself　to　the　question　and　response　which　manifested　your　interest　in
what　he　was　saying；　and　let　him　talk　on；　with　his　sweet　smile；　and　that
husky　laugh　he　broke　softly　into　at　times。　　Perhaps　he　was　not　very　well
when　you　came　in　upon　him；　then　he　would　name　his　trouble；　with　a
scientific　zest　and　accuracy；　and　pass　quickly　to　other　matters。　　As　I
have　noted；　he　was　interested　in　himself　only　on　the　universal　side；　and
he　liked　to　find　his　peculiarity　in　you　better　than　to　keep　it　his　own；
he　suffered　a　visible　disappointment　if　he　could　not　make　you　think　or
say　you　were　so　and　so　too。　　The　querulous　note　was　not　in　his　most
cheerful　register；　he　would　not　dwell　upon　a　specialized　grief；　though
sometimes　I　have　known　him　touch　very　lightly　and　currently　upon　a　slight
annoyance；　or　disrelish　for　this　or　that。　　As　he　grew　older；　he　must　have
had；　of　course；　an　old　man's　disposition　to　speak　of　his　infirmities；　but
it　was　fine　to　see　him　catch　himself　up　in　this；　when　he　became　conscious
of　it；　and　stop　short　with　an　abrupt　turn　to　something　else。　　With　a　real
interest；　which　he　gave　humorous　excess；　he　would　celebrate　some　little
ingenious　thing　that　had　fallen　in　his　way；　and　I　have　heard　him
expatiate　with　childlike　delight　upon　the　merits　of　a　new　razor　he　had
got：　a　sort　of　mower；　which　he　could　sweep　recklessly　over　cheek　and　chin
without　the　least　danger　of　cutting　himself。　　The　last　time　I　saw　him　he
asked　me　if　he　had　ever　shown　me　that　miraculous　razor；　and　I　doubt　if　he
quite　liked　my　saying　I　had　seen　one　of　the　same　kind。

It　seemed　to　me　that　he　enjoyed　sitting　at　his　chimney…corner　rather　as
the　type　of　a　person　having　a　good　time　than　as　such　a　person；　he　would
rather　be　up　and　about　something；　taking　down　a　book；　making　a　note；
going　again　to　his　little　windows；　and　asking　you　if　you　had　seen　the
crows　yet　that　sometimes　alighted　on　the　shoals　left　bare　by　the　ebb…tide
behind　the　house。　　The　reader　will　recall　his　lovely　poem；　〃My　Aviary；〃
which　deals　with　the　winged　life　of　that　pleasant　prospect。　　I　shared
with　him　in　the　flock　of　wild…ducks　which　used　to　come　into　our　neighbor
waters　in　spring；　when　the　ice　broke　up；　and　stayed　as　long　as　the
smallest　space　of　brine　remained　unfrozen　in　the　fall。　　He　was　graciously
willing　I　should　share　in　them；　and　in　the　cloud　of　gulls　which　drifted
about　in　the　currents　of　the　sea　and　sky　there；　almost　the　whole　year
round。　　I　did　not　pretend　an　original　right　to　them；　coming　so　late　as　I
did　to　the　place；　and　I　think　my　deference　pleased　him。




VII。

As　I　have　said；　he　liked　his　fences；　or　at　least　liked　you　to　respect
them；　or　to　be　sensible　of　them。　　As　often　as　I　went　to　see　him　I　was
made　to　wait　in　the　little　reception…room　below；　and　never　shown　at　once
to　his　study。　　My　name　would　be　carried　up；　and　I　would　hear　him
verifying　my　presence　from　the　maid　through　the　opened　door；　then　there
came　a　cheery　cry　of　wellcome：　〃Is　that　you？　　Come　up；　come　up！〃　and　I
found　him　sometimes　half…way　down　the　stairs　to　meet　me。　　He　would　make
an　excuse　for　having　kept　me　below　a　moment；　and　say　something　about　the
rule　he　had　to　observe　in　all　cases；　as　if　he　would　not　have　me　feel　his
fence　a　personal　thing。　　I　was　aware　how　thoroughly　his　gentle　spirit
pervaded　the　whole　house；　the　Irish　maid　who　opened　the　door　had　the
effect　of　being　a　neighbor　too；　and　of　being　in　the　joke　of　the　little
formality；　she　apologized　in　her　turn　for　the　reception…room；　there　was
certainly　nothing　trampled　upon　in　her　manner；　but　affection　and
reverence　for　him　whose　gate　she　guarded；　with　something　like　the
sentiment　she　would　have　cherished　for　a　dignitary　of　the　Church；　but
nicely　differenced　and　adjusted　to　the　Autocrat's　peculiar　merits。

The　last　time　I　was　in　that　place；　a　visitant　who　had　lately　knocked　at
my　own　door　was　about　to　enter。　　I　met　the　master　of　the　house　on　the
landing　of　the　stairs　outside　his　study；　and　he　led　me　in　for　the　few
moments　we　could　spend　together。　　He　spoke　of　the　shadow　so　near；　and
said　he　supposed　there　could　be　no　hope；　but　he　did　not　refuse　the　cheer
I　offered　him　from　my　ignorance　against　his　knowledge；　and　at　something
that　was　thought　or　said　he　smiled；　with　even　a　breath　of　laughter；　so
potent　is　the　wont　of　a　lifetime；　though　his　eyes　were　full　of　tears；　and
his　voice　broke　wit