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 with his words。 Those who have sorrowed deepest will
understand this best。
It was during the few years of our Beacon Street neighborhood that he
spent those hundred days abroad in his last visit to England and France。
He was full of their delight when he came back； and my propinquity gave
me the advantage of hearing him speak of them at first hand。 He
whimsically pleased himself most with his Derby…day experiences； and
enjoyed contrasting the crowd and occasion with that of forty or fifty
years earlier； when he had seen some famous race of the Derby won；
nothing else in England seemed to have moved him so much； though all that
royalties； dignities； and celebrities could well do for him had been
done。 Of certain things that happened to him； characteristic of the
English； and interesting to him in their relation to himself through his
character of universally interested man； he spoke freely； but he has said
what he chose to the public about them； and I have no right to say more。
The thing that most vexed him during his sojourn apparently was to have
been described in one of the London papers as quite deaf； and I could
truly say to him that I had never imagined him at all deaf； or heard him
accused of it before。 〃Oh； yes；〃 he said； 〃I am a little hard of hearing
on one side。 But it isn't deafness。〃
He had； indeed； few or none of the infirmities of age that make
themselves painfully or inconveniently evident。 He carried his slight
figure erect； and until his latest years his step was quick and sure。
Once he spoke of the lessened height of old people； apropos of something
that was said； and 〃They will shrink； you know；〃 he added； as if he were
not at all concerned in the fact himself。 If you met him in the street；
you encountered a spare； carefully dressed old gentleman； with a clean…
shaven face and a friendly smile； qualified by the involuntary frown of
his thick； senile brows； well coated； lustrously shod； well gloved； in a
silk hat； latterly wound with a mourning…weed。 Sometimes he did not know
you when he knew you quite well； and at such times I think it was kind to
spare his years the fatigue of recalling your identity； at any rate； I am
glad of the times when I did so。 In society he had the same vagueness；
the same dimness； but after the moment he needed to make sure of you； he
was as vivid as ever in his life。 He made me think of a bed of embers on
which the ashes have thinly gathered； and which； when these are breathed
away； sparkles and tinkles keenly up with all the freshness of a newly
kindled fire。 He did not mind talking about his age； and I fancied
rather enjoyed doing so。 Its approaches interested him； if he was going；
he liked to know just how and when he was going。 Once he spoke of his
lasting strength in terms of imaginative humor： he was still so intensely
interested in nature； the universe； that it seemed to him he was not like
an old man so much as a lusty infant which struggles against having the
breast snatched from it。 He laughed at the notion of this； with that
impersonal relish which seemed to me singularly characteristic of the
self…consciousness so marked in him。 I never heard one lugubrious word
from him in regard to his years。 He liked your sympathy on all grounds
where he could have it self…respectfully； but he was a most manly spirit；
and he would not have had it even as a type of the universal decay。
Possibly he would have been interested to have you share in that analysis
of himself which he was always making； if such a thing could have been。
He had not much patience with the unmanly craving for sympathy in others；
and chiefly in our literary craft； which is somewhat ignobly given to it；
though he was patient； after all。 He used to say； and I believe he has
said it in print；＇Holmes said it in print many times； in his three
novels and scattered through the 〃Breakfast Table〃 series。 D。W。＇ that
unless a man could show a good reason for writing verse； it was rather
against him； and a proof