LETTERS OF
JOHN HOLMES

These letters of John Holmes constitute
a delightful literarj' discovery.
Mr. Holmes will be remembered as the
brother of Oliver Wendell Holmes. He was
the bosom friend of Emerson, Lowell, and
others of that group, and one of the most
charming of characters. The letters amply
bear out Emerson's opinion — that while
Wendell had wit, John had to a unique de
gree the more priceless possession of hu
mor. There are no letters anywhere, not
excepting Edward FitzGerald's, that are
more fully informed by a whimsical fancy
and the revealing humor that not only
amuses, but opens up entirely new vistas
in regard to human nature and human char
acter. It is the kind of book that, dipped
into anywhere, will hold the reader for
hours at a time. The letters have been se
lected by Miss Alice Longfellow and Miss
Mary Ware. Miss Longfellow has written
the Introduction and William Roscoe
Thayer has supplied the connecting links
of narrative. J^jj^heRS' NOTR

LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
TO
JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL
AND OTHERS

LETTERS OE JOHN HOLMES
TO JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL
AND OTHERS

EDITED BT
WILLIAM ROSCOE THAYER
WITH AN INTKODUCTION
BY ALICE M. LONGFELLOW
AND WITH ILLUSTKATI0N8

BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
(Ste Siitaewbe ^te00 Cambtittse
1917

COPYRIGHT, I917, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
PuUished November iqij

EDITOR'S NOTE
This book is issued under the auspices of the
Cambridge Historical Society, which, early in 1916,
appointed a Committee, consisting of Miss Alice M.
Longfellow, Miss Mary Lee Ware, and William
Roscoe Thayer, to collect and edit the letters of
John Holmes. The letters as written by Mr.
Holmes are often hard to decipher; sometimes the
manuscript has been torn, and Mr. Holmes, even in
his best days of writing, did not permit himself to
be too strictly bound by laws of punctuation or of
orthography. In editing, our purpose has been to
make the text as clear as possible by supplying here
and there omitted words, commas, and semicolons,
and by correcting obviously unintentional shps in
spelling. W. R. T.

CONTENTS
Introduction, by Alice M. Longfellow . . xi
I. Origin and Early Life  1
II. Settling Down  42
III. "A Right Local Man"  64
IV. A Trip to Europe, 1872-73 .... 89
V. The Mellow Years  125
VI. Towards Sunset  182
VIL Last Days  231
VIII. Conclusion  284

ILLUSTRATIONS
John Holmes  Frontispiece
The Gambrel-roofed House  4
The Whist Club: John Holmes, Estes Howe,
Robert Carter, and James Russell Lowell . 44
Dr. Charles Eliot Ware, John Holmes, and
Waldo Higginson  80
No. 5 Appian Way in 1917  126
John Holmes as a "Farmer"  212
John Holmes  232

INTRODUCTION
Mr. John Holmes, or John Holmes, as he was
always affectionately called, belonged to an age of
quietude and simplicity now long passed away,
and scarcely understood.
The rule of his life was few needs and desires,
few friends, and simple surroundings. He was born
in 1812 in the old gambrel-roofed parsonage, the
son of the Reverend Abiel Holmes, and younger
brother of Oliver Wendell Hohnes. He graduated
from Harvard in 1832, and remained in the charm
ing old home with his mother as long as she lived.
He was betrothed in his youth to a young com
panion, but unfortunately she died before their
marriage, and the affection and devotion of his
warm and unselfish nature were bestowed in fullest
measure on his mother.
He was over fifty when she died, and he then
moved with the old housekeeper to the little house
on Appian Way, or A. W., as he always called it.
The chronicles of this busy thoroughfare gave
him infinite amusement, and here he closed his
retired life in 1899.
A chronic lameness kept him often confined to
his room, and, with his naturally quiet disposition,
prevented his taking any active part in life.
Three short trips to Europe and occasional visits

xii INTRODUCTION
to his friends were his only change from this Ufe,
outwardly dull and meagre, but inwardly, and to his
intimates, rich with affection, originality, and humor.
"There is but one John," said his friend James
Russell Lowell; and Judge Hoar, whose friends say
he seldom indulged in verse-writing, was moved
by his love for this lovable friend to express these
feelings in verse: —
"There was a man sent from God whose name
was John." And surely I think we know him.
And could guess from whom he came
For he bears his credentials with him —
Not in earthquake, wind, and flame.
But the still small voice which ever
Befits the message Divine.
The servant, who stands and waits
By the swiftly hurrying line
Of the winged host, serves as well
As speeding Angel or Man.
And the quiet may bring a message
Which the noisy never can!
He was sent to us! to the life-time
Of each he has added cheer.
And has helped us join in saying
"Methinks it is good to be here."
So modest, and shy, and patient.
So willing and wise and true, —
We are glad that, when God sent him,
He was willing to send us, too.
Now whenever you take the journey
That leads through the shadows dim
Please say to the One who sent you here
That we're much obliged to him.

INTRODUCTION xiii
What more can be said. To the few who had the
inestimable pleasure and blessing of his friendship,
words can add nothing to the charm of his mem
ory. To the many who did not know him, no words
can convey any adequate impression of his per
sonality. The delightful mingling of loyal affec
tion, tenderness, modesty, sensitiveness, quaint
ness, courtesy, overflowing fun and humor, and an
almost child-like petulance at times, soon ending
in a laugh, made a personality quite distinct, and
attractive beyond expression. In these modern
days too much, I think, is made of environment.
Certainly the bare little upper chamber in the
modest house on Appian Way held more of sweet
ness, and charm, and entertainment, than comes
to the fortune of many grander houses. Mr.
Holmes's mind was full of quaint and fantastic
ideas that flashed out suddenly and spontaneously,
too vivid and impressionistic to be recorded with
out seeming trivial, but inimitable at the time,
accompanied with his flashing eyes and droll man
ner. As Mr. Howells said, "He would suddenly
sparkle into some gayety, too ethereal for remem
brance." Who can forget his pathetic revery about Me
thuselah, shrinking more and more with old age,
and finally pitifully whining, "Oh, dear! oh,[dear!
I wish some one would keep my shoe-strings from
blowing in my eyes." Or the grand description of
Caesar Augustus returning in triumph from the

xiv INTRODUCTION
wars, with full detail of captives, slaves, and wild
beasts; and then the horrible suspicion, as Caesar
rode proudly in his chariot, that something was
amiss — the street urchins were slyly lalighing and
pointing at him. Then the collapse of his glory,
and his nervous haste to reach the Palace Gate
and rush upstairs to his wife, — "Oh, Augusta,
Augusta, is my helmet on straight?"
One of the comical scenes he loved to depict was
a shy young man at a party, who, having been
served with tea and cake and finding the tea too
hot to drink and no table near, seeks vainly to pour
it into the saucer to cool, but cannot on account
of the piece of cake in his hand. At last a happy
thought. He will put the cake in his mouth, and
leave his hands free. The tea is successfully poured
and he is about to drink, when it suddenly occurs
to him that he still has the cake in his mouth, and
he is as far as ever from relief. John Holmes's look
of sudden despair and hopelessness when the young
man makes this discovery was something which no
one else could equal. Hopeless also to render the
look of the poor mother whose boy having had plate
after plate of ice cream, still got more by the threat,
"If you don't give it, I'll tell"; and finally, being
refused, shouted out, "My new breeches are made
from the old window curtains." Stories nothing in
themselves became dramatic episodes when acted
by Mr. Holmes.
When something was said about the increasing

INTRODUCTION xv
number of students who failed to complete the
undergraduate course but were dropped from class
to class, Mr. Holmes predicted that a race of stu
dents would be ultimately developed which would
never get through college, but might die at ninety
on the very day before Commencement. In his
lively imagination a group of Faculty and President
were seen gathered round the bed of the aged man,
imploring him to hold out a day longer. "Think,"
they said, "what an honor it would be to the Uni
versity to have graduated you at last, and what a
disappointment should you expire an undergrad
uate after all! Rouse yourself! Make one more
effort! Live until to-morrow and die a Bachelor
of Arts!"
On one occasion, in entering a friend's parlor he
stumbled over a rocking-chair, and then nothmg
would do but he must enter the room half a dozen
times and stumble over the chair each time, imi
tating the voice and manner of different people he
knew. My fortunate entrance into this charming at
mosphere came about quite by chance, as some of
the best things of life so often happen. Mr. Holmes
was then over eighty, and losing his eyesight. One
afternoon I chanced to meet Miss Charlotte Dana
on Brattle Street. "Oh," she said, "why don't you
go to see Mr. John Holmes? He has sprained his
ankle, and as he can't see to read, he is very lonely
and dull."

xvi INTRODUCTION
" I will go in now," I said, glad of the opportun
ity; and there I found him stretched on his uncom
fortable couch, with a cord under the sole of his
foot, Uke a stirrup, to hold it in place, a comical
mixture of patience and indignation at adverse fate.
I happened to have in my hand a book for the
binders, a sketch of the Vendean leader during
the French Revolution. A most happy chance, for
the French Revolution was an unending fund of
interest to Mr. Hohnes. We began to read at once,
and for five years, two afternoons in the week were
devoted to France. We went through every word
written by Erckmann-Chatrian, his special delight,
and everything else about the Revolution not too
profound. Mr. Holmes loved to act out the different char
acters, especially the military ones, and we cele
brated the heroes' birthdays, and had all sorts of
delightful and foolish fun.
One of his favorite conceits was to consider him
self a military man, because he once paid a fee of
three dollars to join a miUtary company in college,
the Washington Harvard Guard, and he always
received me standing erect behind the front door
with his cane at shoulder-arms, like a musket. And
I must come exactly at the appointed time, not too
early, not too late, for Mr. Holmes was truly, as he
Called himself, "an old gent of the old school," and
all the convenances must be courteously respected.
After his lunch he must have his cigar. That

INTRODUCTION xvii
finished, all the windows must be opened, regard
less of weather, until every vestige of smoke was
removed. Then very reluctantly, pussy, an old in
habitant, must be removed from the only com
fortable chair, and the cushion turned. (Some years
before, Mr. Holmes wrote: "I ought to tell you of
the recent arrival of a tortoise-shell kit of seven
weeks at this house, the most inextinguishable
creature you ever saw, a mere combination of wool
and electricity, just as much at home in the world
as if she had been seven hundred years in it and
remembered R. Coeur de L.'s leather doublet,
which she guarded from the rats.") Then he took up
his post downstairs, ready to open the front door
with his own pecuUar mingUng of cordiality and
decorum. I am not competent to speak of Mr. Holmes's
early days, but I am glad to quote from the sketch
of him by T. W. Higginson.
He describes an evening party in Cambridge for
the celebrated Pere Hyacinthe and his wife. "Their
little boy of ten was eagerly collecting autographs,
and whenever a guest entered he asked his mother,
'Est-il celebre?' At last there entered a short,
squarely built man, with white hair, white mus
tache, and thick eyebrows, — stiU black, — with
erect figure, fine carriage of the head, and a bearing
often described as- military. The hostess explained
to the little boy that this new guest, though not
personally famous, was the brother of the cele-

xviii INTRODUCTION
brated Oliver WendeU Holmes. The newly arrived
guest, being offered the Uttle piece of paper, and
presumably havmg heard the consultation, wrote
on it this brief inscription — 'John Holmes, frere
de mon frere.'
"The statement, however felicitous under the
circumstances, would not bear more than a general
acceptance as to the facts. Few brothers were less
alike in looks, and in habits. The elder brother
was born to Uve among cheery social groups. The
younger brother, while the more distinguished and
noticeable in appearance of the two, was in the last
degree self-withdrawing and modest, more than
content to be held by the world at arm's length,
yet capable of the most devoted and unselfish loy
alty to the few intimates he loved.
"He was a graduate of Harvard and of the Har
vard Law School, but never practised law, nor did
he ever attempt any other profession, and lived
alone with his aged mother. Dr. Holmes says,
'John cared for her in the most tender way, and it
almost broke his heart to part with her. She was a
daughter to him, she said, and he fondly hoped that
love and care could keep her frail life to the filling
of a century.' She lived to the age of ninety-three."
Mr. Higginson continues : —
" I do not suppose there was ever a moment in
John Holmes's peaceful existence when he could
really have been said to envy his more famous
brother. When Emerson once said of hun, 'John

INTRODUCTION xix
Holmes represents humor, while his elder brother
stands for wit,' he really placed the younger the
higher of the two. The most commonplace event,
the most uninteresting tramp who wandered
through the little street was enough to feed John
Holmes's thoughts, and to supply his conversation
with spice."
It is a sorrowful thing that he could not have
finished his life in the house where he was born; it
would have been so fitting a frame for him. But
unfortunately that was not possible. After Mrs.
Holmes's death the house was acquired by the
College and later was pulled down to make way for
modern college buildings. Mr. Holmes moved with
the old housekeeper to the Uttle house owned by
her on Appian Way, where he had three rooms for
his own use, and lived there surrounded by Miss
Tolman's cats and birds for the rest of his life.
Mr. Holmes wrote for the Harvard Book an ac
count of old HolUs Hall and a very vivid sketch
of an old-time Commencement. He abridged this
for a Uttle book pubUshed in connection with the
Hospital Fair, giving an imaginary boy's account
of the ceremonies, and from this I cannot resist
quoting later on.
He wrote a review of Paige's History of Cam
bridge for the Atlantic Monthly, and the chapter
on Cambridge in the History of Middlesex County,
and these, I believe, were his only adventures in
print.

XX INTRODUCTION
Cambridge and Harvard College were his chosen
field of reminiscence, although he had been to Eu
rope: once in his college days, again in 1872, when
he was sixty years old, with Mr. and Mrs. Lowell,
and in 1882.
Mr. Lowell recalls that, when he himself was
again in Paris, the little woman in the kiosque
where he bought his newspapers, at once asked
after Mr. Holmes, as did everybody else. She had
a tame sparrow he used to bring cake to. "Ah,"
she exclaimed, "qu'il etait bon! Tout bon! Ce
n'est que les bons qui aiment les animaux! Et ce
monsieur, comment il les aimait!"
This was surely true, for the only book I read
to him that he did not like was Stevenson's Travels
with a Donkey. His indignation at the constant
beating and prodding of poor Modestine over
flowed at every page.
He was too modest and self-effacing to care to
appear much in print, although he was fond of old
reminiscences m private talk; and this brings me
back to his account of the old-tune Commence
ment, with its tents and booths and aU sorts of un-
academic diversions and gayeties.
"I don't suppose there's anything quite equal
to Commencement. First, you know, the Sunday
before, after the sermon in the afternoon, the min
ister gives notice to carry home the psalm-books
and cushions to such as have 'em, and most every-

INTRODUCTION xxi
body takes something in their hands, and that kind
of begins Commencement, though it is Sunday; and
I think the old folks are about as much pleased
as the young ones, though they don't show it so
much. Then Monday old Leonard HunneweU
marks out the places for the tents, just as solemn
as if they was so many graves, and the boys always
make it out there's agoing to be more tents than
there ever was before. Then Tuesday afternoon
the joists and boards and old sails come, and they
begin to build the tents, and they keep on workin'
at 'em in the night. Then when it comes mornin'
there's the tents, the most of 'em on the Common,
right in front of the coUeges, and then there's one
or two big ones out in the direction of the Episcopal
Church, and one up at the corner on West Cam
bridge road. The lowest down tents is about op
posite Massachusetts, and the furthest up comes
pretty near the little three-cornered Common.
Then from the tents down to the Court House
there's stands just outside the sidewalk, with
candy and toys and every sort of thing. The chil
dren 's thick enough down there. I 've seen some
thing there they called ice cream, come from Bos
ton, I suppose. It was dreadful dear.
"Then the first thing you know there 's the Light-
horse comes with their trumpets. They come with
the Governor and then, about nine o'clock the
great procession comes with music. The women has
been crowdin' in to get seats in the meetin'us

xxii INTRODUCTION
beforehand, and when the procession comes into
the meetin'us its just as fuU as it can hold, every
corner of it. Then down in the market place it's
all full of carts with watermelons and peaches, and
lots er folks coming and going. Then at Capt.
Stimson's house, where the First Parish Church
stands now, they let rooms for the shows, and I
saw Punch and Judy once, and the fat baby and a
cage of reptiles. They keep it up all day on the
Common and pretty well all night, and all the next
day and night. Oh, there can't be anything like it
anywhere. . .
For the graduates inside the College grounds
there was always a bountiful supply of plum cake,
which was not approved by the Faculty, and an
order to suppress it nearly caused a rebellion.
"The tents," said Mr. Holmes, "were open on
the western side and, having opposite them various
stands and shows, made a street, which by night-
fail was paved with watermelon-rinds, peach-
stones, and various debris, on a ground of straw —
all flavored with rum and tobacco smoke. The
atmosphere thus created in the interests of litera
ture was to the true devotee of Commencement
what the flavor of the holocaust was to the pious
ancient." He also records the wonders of Harvard Square.
Among them, "The CoUege House, which fifty
years ago was occupied by the Law professor. The

INTRODUCTION xxiii
number of pupils was smaU, and we have seen
most, or aU of them, perched together on the fence
in front.
"In Harvard Square also stood the old Court
House, where the judges of the Superior Court held
their sessions, escorted by the sheriff and attend
ants with great commotion.
"On this great day," says Mr. Hohnes, "the
viUagers quit their gray, unpainted houses, as if
they were in flames. Children get the start. Aus
tere men who combat the world and its pleasures
go circuitously and drop casually and unconsciously
into the throng. Suitors and sued, amateurs of Uti
gation who have had their losses, the many who
dote on the dread forms of the criminal process,
poor debtors who know every spider in the old jail
— all these contribute to the variety of the crowd.
The 'scholars,' to use the popular term some fifty
years since, are hurrying to the scene of action, the
banyan, such as Prescott wore at Bunker HiU,
floating wide behind them as they run.
"Bradish stands at the door of his tavern, grave
and portly. His cue newly bound with black rib
bon hangs perpendicular like a pendulum stopped
by an earthquake. The lawyers were then, as they
are now, the gladiators of a better civilization.
"In 1815 the courts were removed to East Cam
bridge, and the Court House ceased from its former
functions. "Lyceum lectures and debates were begun here

xxiv . INTRODUCTION
about 1830, and held their ground with very con
siderable tenacity. The pubUc finally became sati
ated and dropped off in something like a comatose
state. The great variety of subjects and the dis
tractions of a social surrounding left, it is to be
feared, a rather nebulous result on the general mind.
"Cambridge had been for many years remark
ably exempt from fires. From near 1812 we recall,
from hearsay or observation, no serious fire. The
town, therefore, was obliged to borrow excitement
on this score from neighboring calamities, and to
judge by the demonstrations, the sufferers them
selves could hardly have felt the situation more
intensely than our citizens. The parish bell was
immediately set going, nor ceased while any faint
gleam of light appeared on the horizon. Nearly all
the male inhabitants cried 'fire!' incessantly for
some half-hour. The 'scholars' lent their lungs to
assist the town. The engine rushed madly, if heav
ily, out into space, and returned. One got to feel
as if this were a beneficial operation. The alarm
bell actually suggested security. When it rang out
with the greatest vigor, and for the longest time,
the householder knew that the fire was very dis
tant, and that our conscientious citizens could not
relax their efforts while the flames appeared or were
reflected on the sky.
"But in October, 1839, a fire actually occurred
within our own precincts, which consumed three
houses and a barn, and, as usual, threatened much

INTRODUCTION xxv
more destruction. At the beginning of the follow
ing winter, a suspicion arose that incendiaries were
preparing to repeat, on a comprehensive scale, the
calamity of October.
"We can recollect no cause assigned for the new
alarm, and possibly the imagination worked with
more effect, uncontrolled by spoken evidence.
"It was soon found that a citizens' patrol was
necessary to protect the town. It was arranged,
and fixed its headquarters in the old Court House.
We recollect only a tendency to hilarity that per
vaded the organization, at variance with the immi
nent hazard which they labored to avert. Walking,
watching, and friendly converse occupied the mid
night hours. Consciousness of merit was the poor
and honorable reward of our exertions. No refresh
ments were furnished to dilute or vitiate this noble
sensation. "We infer the greatness of the impending danger
from the great and general effort made to avert it.
And it is a memorable fact that so extensive and
desperate a confederation of incendiaries should
have been entirely crushed by our administration.
Perfect incombustibility seemed to prevail during
this period, and in a community too where one man
in twenty was a probable Guy Faux.
"There is always one drawback on precaution —
that it cuts off the very evidence that should jus
tify it. The patrol of 1840 was subject to this in
convenience. Only one arrest was made. It was

xxvi INTRODUCTION
of a man who at a very early hour of the morning
was detected carrying incendiary material toward
the college. He was seized, with his lantern, and
his various pyrotechnics carried to the Court House
and subjected to severe examination. He proved
to be a professional incendiary, i.e., a fire-maker in
the college. His control, though in a measure pro
forma, gave an aspect of efficiency to the patrol and
added to its amount of strength. The dullest intel
lect perceived what might have occurred, had the
prosecuted been one of the real confederates, and
had no patrol existed to arrest his deadly career.
"No monument or inscription commemorates
the services of that time, not even a bronze extin
guisher of minute size. Among the members of the
patrol rheumatism, coughs, and catarrh may have
done their work, but no voice has proclaimed the
fact. Wide-awake beneficence disdains to stir sleep
ing gratitude, but any member of the patrol may
proudly say, pointing to the unconsumed town,
'Circumspice.''" As I have said, Mr. Howells persuaded Mr.
Holmes to write a review of Paige's History of
Cambridge, which was pubUshed in the Atlantic
Monthly. This was evidently a congenial task,
as the opening shows. "If we New Englanders
admire ourselves in a representative way for the
slow and painful displacement of nature, for our
cities, towns, inclosures, and aU that belongs to our

INTRODUCTION xxvii
rectilinear life, what shall we say of the man who
by one touch of his art, sweeps away the whole
incumbrance in a moment — who, in our Cam
bridge of today makes the pine to soar again in
the Market Place, the dandelion to pave the dusty
Main Street with gold, the wolf to utter his hungry
howl, where now is the almshouse, the wild pigeon
to coo love and peace at the Divinity School, and the
possum to play his innocent tricks at the City Hall?
"The antiquarian does all this and without cost
or damage but to himself. He finds us blinking at
an uncertain future or weary with a commonplace
present, and promises to show us the past, where
we may walk at leisure."
Mr. Hohnes then takes up the first settlement of
Newtowne, "which was designed for the citadel of
the new colony, perhaps for its capital.
"The site was selected as a fit place for a forti
fied town in 1630, and the fortifications which were
a 'pallysadoe' — with such unsparing force did our
ancestors spell the word — and ditch, were appar
ently completed in 1632. If the founding of Rome
should occur to the reader, he need not repel it too
eagerly as an exaggeration. It is probable that no
Remus could have slighted our pallysadoe. If he
had, our Romulus would have given hun half a day
in the stocks, or a fine of five shiUings."
In a sketch of Mr. Craigie, Mr. Holmes gives a
glimpse of Cambridge in later days. "Just now,
when the old memories of Christ Church are being

xxviii INTRODUCTION
awakened, it is not amiss to recall one of those who
take their final rest beneath its shadow. In my
early boyhood I occasionally heard the name of
Andrew Craigie, but never explored so far as to
become acquainted with his residence, which was
the present Longfellow House. I propose no more
than to give the facts that casually reached me
concerning him, as I remember them — a legend
ary rather than a historical notice. I think that
he was spoken of as having been a surgeon in the
Continental army, and that after the war was
closed, he had purchased government securities,
which rose rapidly in value after the new constitu
tion was established. He became rich enough to
purchase the confiscated estate of one of the Vas
sals, and was able to continue the handsome style
of Uving of his predecessors. He married, when
quite old, or elderly, the beautiful Betsey Shaw,
but the many years of valuable experience which
he contributed to the common stock do not seem
to have added to the general fund of matrimonial
happiness. "Well would it have been for him if his friends
could have said to him, 'Thou hast no speculation
in thine eyes.' But he had, and a great deal of it.
His plan was to develop Lechmere' s Point, called
in my younger days, 'The Pint,' and bring into the
market the land he had secured there. The new
road to 'The Colleges,' now Cambridge Street, the
bridge to Boston, still called Craigie's Bridge, the

INTRODUCTION xxix
removal to the 'Pint' of the Court House and Jail,
were aU parts of this plan.
"The embargo in 1807 covered Boston and its
dependencies like an extinguisher. But apart from
that, Mr. Craigie's plans and those of his contem
porary schemers — the making Cambridgeport a
great emporium of trade, the Concord turnpike,
etc. — were, even if rational in their conception,
premature by some forty years. I remember in my
own boyhood the scanty population of the lower
'Port' outside of the main street, with the brick
blocks planted here and there in the solitude, like
seed for new settlements. Concord turnpike and
Craigie's road also, each offered a retreat to which
the austere recluse, shunning the face of man, might
retire with no fear of intrusion. The toU which was
to repay the building was found represented by
the funeral knell of departed funds.
"It is now that we come naturally to Mr.
Craigie as a debtor, the legendary character in
which we have mostly heard of him. Overwhelmed
with judgments, the sly capias in the pocket of the
constable waiting for him, he remembered that
every man's house is his castle, and retired to this
fortress aUowed him by law. Inside his house he
was safe from arrest. Whether he could venture
outside upon his own premises, or was confined to
his four walls, we cannot learn. As it can do him
no harm, and is more picturesque, I prefer the first
supposition.

xxx INTRODUCTION
"It is a fine bit of mediaevaUsm that we Old
Cambridge folk have, and we ought to be proud of
it. Here is a man with nothing against him but a
large pecuniary balance, Uable to capture, falUng
back on his 'Castle,' to use the term contained in
the legal apothegm. The towers, walls, portcuUis,
barbican, appear at once before us. But to quit
the fanciful — Mr. Craigie had every right in the
world, except to go out of his own house. To that
act a quasi penalty was attached. Does it not give
a new interest to the LongfeUow House, that a gen
uine debtor of the old school has looked with long
ing eyes on the free and solvent Charles carrying
his punctual dues to ocean, and on the fair Brighton
hiUs where the only capias is that awaiting the
cows at night? Did he ever venture forth at eve
ning, seeing a constable and capias in every bush?
We accept the question readily, and wish that we
could answer it, but tradition fails here.
"But if law shut Mr. Craigie up on week days,
religion came to set him free on Sunday. On that
day he was free to go abroad, and I presume used
his liberty to attend at Christ Church, then open
for worship. How long this state of duress lasted,
whether to his death or not, I cannot say.
" Somewhere about the year 1820, going over one
Saturday afternoon to play with a boy at a house
standing on or near the site of the present Law
School, I saw a movement at the door of the church.
Some half-dozen people were in motion. I do not

INTRODUCTION xxxi
remember whether the beU was tolled. This was
the scant, lonely funeral of Mr. Andrew Craigie.
"These notes and reminiscences are addressed,
aside, to only the few experts or esoterics in Cam
bridge antiquities — people who, if asked to an
swer the following questions, would answer readily
and perhaps with some resentment at the doubt of
their knowledge implied by the inquiry.
"Where was the old Court House? The old JaU?
The Market House? Where was the College wood-
yard? Where were the old hay-scales? Where was
the window from which little Joe Hill saw Lord
Percy's reinforcement pass by? Where was the
little brook that ran over gravel toward the Charles
and, like the two princes, was stifled in its bed?"
Mr. HoweUs says, "Lowell had often talked to
me about John Hohnes, celebrating his peculiar
humor with that affection which was not always
so discruninating, so that Holmes was one of the
first Cambridge men I knew. He was then Uving
in the charming old colonial house where he and
his brother were born.
"The genius loci was Umping about the pleasant
mansion with the rheumatism which expressed it
seff to his friends in a resolute smUe — a short,
stout figure, helped out with a cane, and a grizzled
head with features formed to win the heart rather
than the eye of the beholder.
"He held his native town in an idolatry which
was not bUnd, but which was none the less devoted

xxxii INTRODUCTION
because he was aware of her droll points, and her
weak points. I was not her son, but he felt that
this was my misfortune more than my fault, and
he seemed more and more to forgive it. In the pro
cess of time he came so far to trust his experience
of me that he formed the habit of giving me an an
nual supper. This was after he moved to Appian
Way. Some days before this event he would appear
in my study, and with divers delicate and tenta
tive approaches would say he should like to ask my
family to an oyster supper with him.
"'But you know, I have n't a house of my own
to ask you to, and I should like to give you the
supper here.'
"When I had agreed to this suggestion and the
day was fixed — 'WeU then,' he said, 'I wiU send
up a few oysters.'
"On the day appointed the fishman would come
with several gallons of oysters, and in the evening
the giver of the feast would appear with a lank oil
cloth bag, sagged by some bottles of wine. There
was always a bottle of red wine and sometimes a
bottle of champagne, and he had taken the precau
tion to send some crackers beforehand, so that the
supper should be as entirely of his own giving as
possible. He was forced to let us do the cooking
and to supply the cold slaw, and perhaps he indem
nified himself for putting us to these charges by
the vast superfluity of his oysters, with which we
remained inundated for days.

IN 1 jnOu J L. 1 ION xxxiii
" He did not care to eat many himself but seemed
content to fancy giving us a pleasure."
Mr. Holmes's chief diversion was playing whist
with his friends James Russell LoweU, Mr. Estes
Howe, Mr. Robert Carter. He never could see the
charm of having more than a smaU inner circle.
His natural love of seclusion was increased by a
chronic lameness which hampered him at times all
through his Ufe. He diversified the monotony of
his quiet existence by little visits during the sum
mer — only a few days at a time — to Mr. Charles
Storey in BrookUne, Mr. Waldo Higginson at
Cohasset, and Dr. Ware at West Rindge. These
brief excursions were treated with great ceremony,
hke a foreign journey, and the return to the quiet
of Appian Way was most humorously commented
on. In refusing an invitation to Mr. Storey's in
BrookUne on account of the pain and uneasiness in
the knee, he says, —
"TeU the girls, as they naturaUy Uke gayety, that
I would have entertained them with valuable infor
mation more than sixty years old, and particularly
would have given them, had they asked me, valu
able genealogies of the early settlers — and we aU
know that nothing is more entertaining to young
people than genealogy.
"I might possibly, if asked, have sung to them
some simple compositions of Cotton Mather and
other early poets of the Puritan time. I never sing

xxxiv INTRUUUCIION
unless asked to, and being never asked to, I never
smg." But if Mr. Holmes never sang, he loved to play
simple airs, and especiaUy hymn tunes, on his
piano, aU the more as his eyesight failed.
Unquestionably, in spite of his genial nature,
there were hours of loneliness and depression.
After a "monstrous, incredible" hot day in June,
and the heat of Appian Way is truly "monstrous,"
he writes, "I am today little better than a resid
uary legatee to myself as I was before this heat."
And to his friend Charles Storey he writes, beg
ging him to come to see him, —
" I have laboriously kept up the illusion of em
ployment, and I won't say but that with a little
philosophic reflection I have made out a fair sched
ule of circumstances. I know it is a great thing to
be weU — to be able to take my modest walks, etc.,
but beyond a pretty sober contentment I can't
say much and that does n't prompt one to call
eagerly on his friends to share the sunshine with
him. "If you wUl caU on Saturday I shaU hope to
have a happy day in place of a moderately con
tented one, for between us both I am sure we
should get up a pleasant high-low-rity. I meant to
say hilarity.
"We shaU, as you say, have our hands fuU to
put the world to rights after so long an interval.
" I 've had a good deal of trouble with the Soudan

INTRODUCTION xxxv
and the Russians and what not, and have felt heav
Uy the want of my colleague.
" I should n't mind to have you, if you will, sit
in committee of one on those South American
rowdies, on Cleveland's administration since our
last session, and on 'Things in General,' which
without binding you to any particular course of
inquiry wiU stimulate your ambition to be well up
on everything.
"You know I have been agricultural on the scale
of an inch to a mUe, and won't you and I have a
right-down farming session when we foregather.
"By the way I wonder what the price of good
hard wood is now at centres like Fitchburg.
"As agri(and horti)culturist I was pleased with
the late snow-fall. The something, you know, that
they say is fertilizing in snow (a nitrate or some
thing), call it nitrate of potash, will be good for
your early vegetables.
•' I ought to report to you that the crop of hand-
organs is very plentiful this spring, and quality on
the whole unproved."
After another short visit he writes Mr. Storey,
"Everything has been pretty quiet here since you
left. No banditti seen this side of the Cambridge
hiUs. " I found Cambridge just where I left it, running
over with learning of all kinds and facing the
weather with a placid countenance. Winter just
now is grimly retreating with his face to the foe —

xxxvi INTRODUCTION f
his icicle beard rapidly diminishing. He seems to
say to himself ' I 've given it to 'em this time.' I
hope that you are well and having a pleasant time,
the dull weather notwithstanding.
"What a blizzard we are having today! The
big elm opposite my window stretches his brawny
arms out to our old friend Boreas and bids him
come on, and they are having it out in good style.
"Cambridge Common is as wild as a Tartar
steppe today, and a great deal more convenient
for the adventurer to try his luck on.
"Some old people here are a little apprehensive
the Russians may work round this way from Af
ghanistan, but I tell them it is impossible.
"As evening closes in, I recaU the cheerful board,
the smoke, the preparations for deep debate. Well,
we did n't neglect our opportunities. We settled
matters up well. As a consequence my mind has
been at ease. I have hardly thought of the Czar,
and not once of the Soudan or of Bismarck."
In another letter to Mr. Storey he says, —
"It has been rather a heavy time, precious little
exhilaration and a general slowness.
"Miss Mary Ware wished me to go up to Doctor
Goodale's room at the Museum and urged the ele
vator for me on the score of my age, and I com
pUed and took possession of a chair placed on a
moderate sized ascending surface. Then an enclo
sure of iron was developed, and some of the small
boys remarked 'Behind the bars,' thus giving a

INTRODUCTION xxxvii
criminal aspect to my transient confinement. But
the man hauled vigorously and I vanished with
just enough of a halo of guUt to please the innocent
spectator. "Yesterday was the annual fete at the Cam
bridge Casino (estabUshed two years) and I thought
I would look in upon them at evening a moment
at the dance, and moralize over the manner in
which one may change his relation to that amuse
ment, and retire as after a draught of hop beer.
"Being a subscriber, I took a schoolgirl daughter
of my opposite neighbor and went, after the supper
which, secundum program, was to appear at half-
past six.
"The table was not yet cleared of the debris, and
by tipping a waiter I procured a ration for my
guest (also for self) and then threw my whole weight
on society, telUng my female comrade that she
might amuse herself with her cotemporaries. I
found some acquaintances who had been sometime
out of swaddling clothes, and to my great surprise
passed a pleasant evening.
"The Casino is on the lower road to Mt. Auburn,
close to the river. We were in the Boat House
where the dance came off after the tables were
cleared; but there was an outside with chairs, close
to the water, whence we could look on and across
the river, not only at the long row of lights very
prettily seen over the marsh, but also at a sedate
display of mild fireworks on the opposite bank

xxxviu INTRODUCTION
which was quite pretty. When my comrade had to
return for a lesson of some sort, to be learned, I
saw her home, and then, like a venerable pleasure-
seeking Ulysses, I returned to the gardens of
Calypso. I looked knowingly and superiorly on
at the dance, as if to say 'the art is not what it was
in my time,' and several times actuaUy detected
myself in the act of keeping tune with my foot to
the music. I think if the choice had been immediate
execution, or to tread a measure, that I might
possibly have danced — but under the most
stringent protest, you understand. It was like a
man's brushing against a newly painted house —
I brought off a little of the gay coloring and found
myself somewhat improved in spirits."
After one of his short visits, he writes to Charles
Storey, —
"I found my native place in exceUent posture
to receive a (very slightly) wearied phUosopher.
There was no concourse in her streets, no frivolous
social explosion on the Common to disturb my
sober approach to home. No stentorian cry of
Blueberries or Bananies, no melancholy chant of
O'Rags was heard in A. W. The houses had mostly
their eyes closed in their summer sleep. The most
retiring of men might have enjoyed the entire
unobservedness with which I entered my domicUe,
and the solitude after arrival.
"Not so my arrival from West Rindge on Friday
at about 2 p.m. After struggUng with my plethoric

INTRODUCTION xxxix
valise from the quite subterranean track at Por
ter's or rather Cambridge Station, I emerged on
the platform to meet at once our huge expressman
of North Cambridge, Hayes, some times caUed the
Infant, some six feet four in length and not lightly
built. He extended both hands in welcome and
cordiaUy invited me to ascend his express standing
at the door. I sounded him on the score of remun
eration (as the conveyance was professional) but
found that it was hospitality, pure and sunple, and
so was toted to my own door. I suppose that tech
nically I was 'express matter,' but that did n't dis
turb my philosophy.
" It had in a certain degree the effect of a pubhc
testimonial, to be thus received at the very portal
of the station. All I can think of, is my year's
service in behaff of my country in the Harvard
Washington Corps. If the attention was in recog
nition of that, it was very prettUy and deUcately
done, for as an ex-soldier I was carrying 'baggage,'
and to send a baggage wagon to meet me on my
march and relieve me was as neat a reminder of
my own past services and fatigues as could weU be
devised. (I would n't have a hint of this pass your
lips. A mistake on such a point would be attrU)-
uted to the most absurd vanity.)
"Yes! If the authorities of my native town
really devised this attention it does them credit.
As I was no more than private, a barouche and
four or anything of that sort would have been

xl INTRODUCTION
embarrassing; but a baggage wagon! It was a
very neat idea (always if it were a public atten
tion)." To Mr. Storey, after a trip to the seashore: —
" I don't care much for change nowadays, but I
went with our folks of the house to Nantasket,
and have swaggered about it very considerably as
a bit of foreign travel, but our Cambridge folks
get so rusty with vacation soUtude, — or perhaps
I should say so green, — that you can stuff them
with anything almost.
"They get in a manner childish and from disuse
their articulation is impaired. When I began about
Nantasket, the word tickled them immensely, and
they kept practising on it to themselves, as our
friend (what's his name) does 'the Salwannas
where the war is.'
"I should think Old Cambridge was never so
emptied of its inhabitants before. The college
vacuum alone would make a noticeable solitude."
Ten days later he writes, —
"Since the afternoon I made you a flying visit,
I have been in the social line almost entirely lim
ited to the company of John Holmes, an old gradu
ate of (if you will allow me to say so) about your
time. This old gent is perhaps rather a redactor
temporis acti than a laudator, but at the same time
designates the period since 1832 as margin, and
sometimes as leavings. He often hints at a comrade
he has over your way who is a capital auxiliary —

INTRODUCTION xii
dives into the past at any depth, and always brings
up something worth having. Do enquire over
there, and see if any such old gent is to be found
in your neighborhood.
"You are the only fellow I know who has held
to his anchorage solidly and creditably and not
migrated for the sake of migration. It looks rather
flighty, doesn't it, to see a lot of sober house
holders, as with us in Cambridge, for example,
pack up and decamp as if a Mongol army were at
hand, and that at a time when their surroundings
are at their pleasantest.
"It seems a reproach to the absentees when you
behold the fruits of the tropics, and the ice of the
poles offering themselves to the scanty remnant in
Appian Way, for example.
"But it is no use to set up an opposition. The
fugitives may be (between you and me) weak in
judgment, but they are strong in numbers, and
we won't waste our time in moralizing over the
frivolities of a world whose weak points you and I
have long since found out, and with mutual satis
faction have laid before each other,
"You might now to some purpose take a lantern
a la Diogenes to find a man with in Cambridge!
The genus seems almost extinct here. If two men
meet by chance, they embrace with tears, and if
five should come together, the Cambridge papers
speak of a festival,
"Everyone seems anxious to establish an alibi.

xlii INTRODUCTION
A small party of boys came through A. W. last
evening with a drum, and an anonymous wind
instrument, and it was pleasant to see other small
boys flock to the excitement and march alongside
with exhilaration.
"Some think this was a device of the City
Government to cheer the depressed and deserted
citizens — others, that it is to show the evU-
intentioned of aU sorts that the town — now con
sisting of some six or seven grown people — is pre
pared for invasion,
"What can a man say impressive or amusing
about a vacuum? AU he can tell is how many had
to be emptied out to make the vacuum,
" If the Universalist Church had n't been moved
in three pieces up the main street in'the Port, I
think some of the few left here would have perished
of mental atrophy, but that has kept them up in a
feeble way.
"There is something fanciful about it, too, to
the old inhabitant; it suggests as far as it goes the
old town with its day and evening quiet. It was
very accommodating in my friends to evacuate the
premises unanimously and simultaneously to afford
me this picture of the past.
"What a brave old boy are you to go to the moun
tains. I hope they pumped up their best air for you,
and that you made the most of it, 'My name,'
you can now say, 'is Charles W. Norval from the
Grampian HiUs.' There is nothing more rheumatic,

INTRODUCTION xliii
crampy, sciatical than a mountain. I wonder you
went there."
Any one who is fanuliar with the solitude of
a Cambridge summer will fuUy appreciate Mr,
Holmes's meditations on it, and especially A, W,
as he called it, where, if two cats crossed the street,
all the neighbors rushed to the windows.
" I like to sit on a bench in the Common in sum
mer," he said, "and drink in the east wind with its
fine old odor of ceUarage."
To Miss Grace Norton he writes, —
"Your name before me reminds me what a
graceless 'old gent' (if you will allow that expres
sion) I must appear to be, but you must know that
I am delicate on the matter of locomotion. Don't
shock Appian Way by suggesting a coupe. I met
Miss Grace Ashburner in September one day, and
persuaded her to sit pastorally on a bench in the
Common, and soon after that was laid up, quite a
long time since.
" I have been for some time in a most tempestu
ous ocean of circumstances with a tremendous cross
sea running which has very nearly thrown me on
my beam-ends. I borrow these terms from the
shipping reports to suit my distressed circum
stances. An old gent more exercised with various
activities than I of late it would be hard to find.
I feel more Uke Talleyrand just now than any other
historical personage — I mean so very diplomatic.
"I am a tempest-tossed man. 'T is now the sea-

xliv INTRODUCTION

son of I Taxes I hateful word. It is the time for small
collections and large disbursements — the time for
expeditions to the metropoUs, agitation, general
disquiet." John Hohnes and the melancholy Jaques would
have had a wonderful time moraUzing together on
life in Appian Way and its neighborhood.
"The world isn't what it used to be, eh? It
needs one or two phUosophers who are just now
somewhat in retirement to do a little adjusting, eh?
What do you say? Though for my part I am willing
to let it go on experimenting until it gets wiser.
"I have no news to send you. The horse was
killed so long ago by the pendent wire carrying the
charge of a bigger wire, that I can't offer it as a
novelty. Have you ridden in the electric cars?
Have you been to the theatre within three months,
as a man whom I know has? Have you been to
lectures on Babylon and Babylonian excavations
and relics, as a man I know has? If you only lived
here we would go to lectures (open to the public)
till we ran over with knowledge.
"I took cold last night from my open window
with all the bed-clothes off, and my interior by
5 o'clock this morning reminded me of a ropewalk
manned by diligent workers,
"The solitude here is more marked methinks
than last year. One kind of population is plenty
at No, 5 A.W. viz., cats. They seem an Ecumen
ical Council. Rose, a great favorite with Miss, dis-

INTRODUCTION xiv
appeared from Saturday night tiU this forenoon,
when she sauntered in at the front gate with that
irrelevant air that cats have, and showed little
emotion at the great joy she caused. She is blase
and metropoUtan in her ways. She came up and
took possession of my chair, but soon relinquished
it and lounged out of my room, looking for a
larger sphere of action and contemplation,"
In answer to a question from Mr. Higginson,
Mr. Holmes replies, —
"The aunt in question was old, unwieldy and
lame. Consequently, instead of a filial eagerness to
accompany and assist the aunt on her return home,
and a pleasant fraternal competition for office, the
tendency of both sons, WUliam the elder and Dun
ham, was — auntrifugal. They both shunned that
particular by-path of duty. So that when Mrs. H.
said, 'WilUam, it is time for you to go home with
your aunt,' William immediately added, 'Dunham,
don't you hear your mother?' Dunham was never
known to give WUUam any credit for relinquishing
his right of primogeniture,"
Mr. Waldo Higginson was one of the Trustees of
the Harvard Divinity School, and as he Uved at a
distance Mr. Holmes took great pleasure in con
sidering hunself his deputy in Cambridge and in
sending frequent buUetins.
"The School comes on weU. We had a Baby
lonian the other evening, preached in Chaldee,
with a fine presumption that he was understood by
the School,"

xlvi INTRODUCTION
And again, a few months later, —
"Please teU Waldo (we must teU him something
about the School, I suppose) — teU him — weU —
that the School has got the sniffles, and you can
hear them sneezing and blowing in a stiU night, a
quarter of a mUe off — and they are just as con
troversial about medicine as theology, and have
their Sudorites and Antis, who don't speak, but
send each other calumnious notes,
"One fellow under the influence of sniffles and
snake-root, which (the infusion) he takes in great
quantities, has relapsed into Calvinism, but the
board has cut off his rations, and he is coming
round at last accounts,"
And so these pleasant, friendly, rambUng notes
went on and on, even when his eyesight was too dim
to see the lines.
Old age he kept wonderfully at bay by his
jaunty bearing and undaunted courage. Reluc
tantly giving up an excursion, he says, "Our old
friend Weather dropped in and told me that con
sidering my age he advised me not to go. He
should n't wonder if we had rain.
'"As for my age,' said I; but he smiled.
'"I can't stop,' said he ; ' I 've got a picnic to give
a ducking to. Good morning,' and he was off."
Mr. Holmes rather resented help and gloried in
being able to get off a Broadway car before it had
quite stopped, " thus redeeming my reputation for
vigor, after having been handed down steps by

INTRODUCTION xlvii
ladies and the like. Having landed without acci
dent, I walked off with perhaps something of a juve
nile air, wielding the valise as if a pleasure, rather
than burden."
He thought nothing when nearly blind of going
out in the winter evenings to see a sick friend, re
gardless of snow and ice. He repudiated any sug
gestion of wearing overshoes. "Wet feet — non
sense. When we were boys our feet were always
wet through from morning till night. We thought
nothing of it."
When he could not read the name on a trolley-
car, he would board one car after another, getting
on and off recklessly until he hit on the right one.
So quietly and gently he entered the Valley of
the Shadow, often forgetting the present, and living
in old memories with his father and mother, and
more and more loving to hear some one play the
old hymn-tunes on the piano.
"I want L. to come and read the Bible to me,"
"Oh, let me," I said, "I should love to,"
"No," he said, "that would n't do, you are not
orthodox enough, I want L,"
And then suddenly came the end, and we could
say again with Judge Hoar : —
Whenever you take the journey
That leads through the shadows dim
Please say to the One who sent you here,
That we 're much obliged to him.
Alice M. Longfellow,

THE LETTERS OF
JOHN HOLMES
CHAPTER I
OEIGIN AND EARLY LIFE
Nobody could be more surprised than John
Holmes himseff, could he know that his letters were
coUected into a volume; for no one was less aware
than he of their strange originahty and unpremed
itated charm. The shyest of men, he led a Ufe so
devoid of events that he furnished only the slight
est material for a biography. And yet he had the
capacity, common only to original persons, of tak
ing in even the most trivial experience, of trans
muting it through his imagination untU it seemed
a part of himseff, and of stamping on his descrip
tion of it his unmistakable individuaUty.
The public hardly knew him at all. During
most of his Ufe he passed among strangers as "the
brother of his brother"; but among his friends —
and he had many of them, as these letters wiU show
— his depth of affection, his gift of intimacy, not
less than his playfulness, drollery, and unquench
able humor, made him desired and beloved, Low
eU, the Ufelong friend of both brothers, used to
speak of John as the rarer.

2 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
John Hohnes was born in Cambridge, Massa
chusetts, on March 29, 1812. His father, Abiel
Holmes, had been settled as pastor of the First
Congregational Church since 1791. His mother,
Sarah WendeU, was the only daughter of the Hon
orable Oliver Wendell, of Boston. The first Holmes
in America, the great-grandfather of Abiel, was
among the founders of the viUage of Woodstock,
Connecticut, in 1686 — an energetic man, who ran a
saw-mill and a fulUng-mill. His grandson, David,
served as a captain in the Old French War and as
an army surgeon in the Revolution,
The first wffe of Abiel Holmes was Mary, daugh
ter of Ezra Stiles, President of Yale CoUege. "The
Reverend Abiel Holmes," writes Mr, John T,
Morse, Jr., "was a clergyman who taught the old-
fashioned Calvinism with all its horrors, and yet,
apart from his religious creed, was a gentleman of
humanity and cultivation," ^ The second Mrs,
Holmes, the mother of John and Oliver, born in
1768, remembered how, when she was a little girl,
she was hurried off from Boston, then occupied by
the British soldiers, to Newburyport. "Her traits,"
continues Mr. Morse, "were very different from
those of her husband. She was a bright, vivacious
woman, of smaU figure, and sprightly manners.
Being also very cheerful and social, and fond of
dropping in upon her neighbors, and withal of sym-
> J. T. Morse, Jr., Life and Letters of Oliver WendeU Holmes
(Boston, 1896), i, 15.

ORIGIN AND EARLY LIFE 3
pathetic and somewhat emotional temperament, so
that she readily fell in with the mood of her friend,
whether for tears or for laughter, she was a very
popular lady, whom every one greeted kindly," ^
Mrs, Hohnes came of old Puritan stock, tracing
back through various ancestors to Thomas Dud
ley, Governor of the Massachusetts Bay Colony,
whose daughter was Anne Bradstreet, the "Tenth
Muse," The OUver, the Jackson, and the Quincy
famiUes were among her connections.
The old gambrel-roofed house, dating from 1718,
which Parson Holmes occupied, belonged to his
father-in-law, Judge Wendell, with whom he lived
until the judge's death in 1812, when it became
the property of Mrs. Holmes, Situated thirty or
forty rods north of Harvard College Yard, near the
site of the present Harvard Law School, its western
windows faced the old road to Lexington and Con
cord, Just across the Cambridge Common rose the
Washington Elm on the farther side. Many years
later Dr. Hohnes thus described it: "The gambrel-
roofed house, though stately enough for college
dignitaries and scholarly clergymen, was not one
of those Tory Episcopal-church-goer's strongholds.
The honest mansion makes no pretensions. Ac-
cessUile, comfortable, respectable, and even in its
way dignified, but not unposing, not a house for
His Majesty's CouncUlors, or the Right Reverend
' John T. Morse, Jr., Life and Letters of Oliver WendeU Holmes
(Boston, 1896), i, 15.

4 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Successor of him who had not where to lay his
head, for something like a hundred and fifty years
it has stood in its lot, and seen generations of men
come and go like leaves of the forest. It was a great
happiness to have been born in an old house, haunted
by such recollections, with harmless ghosts walking
its corridors, and that vast territory of four or five
acres around it, to give a child the sense that he
was born to a noble principality. I should hardly
be quite happy if I could not recall, at will, the old
house with the long entry and the white chamber,
where I wrote the first verses that made me known
["Old Ironsides"], and the little parlor, and the
study, and the old books, in uniforms as varied as
those of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Com
pany used to be, and the front yard with the stars
of Bethlehem, and the dear faces to be seen no
more there or anywhere on this earthly place of
farewells." Springing thus from roots which ran deep into
the early times of Connecticut and of Boston, John
Holmes inherited what we should now caU the
unmixed Yankee tradition. Everything tended to
develop in him the strongest local affections. The
old house that was his home linked hun with the
past. The village in which he grew up — for Cam
bridge was then only a viUage, stiU smaU enough
for its inhabitants to know one another, at least
by sight — gave him that sense of belonging to
an entire and homogeneous community which the

ORIGIN AND EARLY LIFE 5
dweUers in cities can never feel. He knew not only
aU the Cantabrigians, but also, in a boy's way, aU
the haunts of the place — the brooks and ponds,
the spots on the river Charles where the best skat'f
ing was to be found in winter and the best fishing
at other seasons; and long before he became an
undergraduate, he was famiUar with the academic
festivals of Harvard CoUege. For then the college
was Cambridge to a degree undreamed of today,
and many of the townspeople profited — as they
do now — in one way or another from the institu
tion. Those were the days, too, when all the citi
zens took a genuine pride in having the oldest and
foremost of American colleges in their town ; when a
professor — there were only half a dozen of them —
was regarded with reverence ff not with awe, and
the President was a person of almost Olympian
dignity. Very parochial must the Cambridge life of
the first quarter of the nineteenth century seem to
us who are now caught up in the rush and change
and cosmopoUtanism of a distracted and dubious
generation, Ixion on his wheel, glancing in his
swift whirUng at the immutable Pyramids, may
aptly symboUze our attitude toward a past which
thought itself grounded in immutability.
Of John Hohnes's boyhood I find no written
trace; but we can infer something about it from al
lusions in his letters. Only one anecdote has sur
vived. When he was five years old his brother
OUver, two and a half years his senior, took him to

6 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
witness the last hanging in Cambridge. The scene
was the Gallows Lot on Jones's HiU, which slopes
north of Linnaean Street. This indulgence in the
morbid love of horror, common to children, brought
the older brother a sound scolding,
John passed through the usual juvenile educa
tion of Cambridge and, at the age of sixteen, he en
tered Harvard CoUege in the class of 1832. Among
his classmates were several youths who achieved
distinction in later life — Josiah G. Abbott, Har
vard Overseer and Member of Congress; Henry W.
BeUows, Unitarian minister and, during the Civil
War, fervent patriot; Charles T. Brooks, also a Uni
tarian minister, poet, translator of Faust; George
Ticknor Curtis, legal writer, biographer of Web
ster, authority on constitutional history; and John
S. Dwight, musical critic and diff user of the love of
music in the United States. Of these, Dwight be
came an intimate, and another classmate, Estes
Howe, was a Ufelong friend. During John's fresh
man year, his brother Oliver was a senior in the
class of 1829, and during his own senior year
E. Rockwood Hoar, another lifelong friend, was a
freshman. John seems to have been one of those
inconspicuous feUows who make up the majority of
every college class. A fair student but not brilliant,
quiet, shy, he was the delight of a few cronies, with
whom he let himself out. If organized athletics had
existed in his time, his smallish figure would not
have recommended him for a crew.

ORIGIN AND EARLY LIFE 7
After graduating in 1832 Holmes entered the
Harvard Law School, where he pursued a desultory
course of study, interrupted by sickness, untU 1836.
Then foUows a blank year, after which he entered
the law office of Loring and Dehon, who held an
honorable position at the Boston Bar. We cannot
think of him as a practising lawyer, nor did he
stick long to the profession; but he loved the old
legal phrases with which he used unexpectedly to
heighten the comic effect of a droll bit of conver
sation. In 1839 he made a trip to Europe, of which
he left no record. On returning home he settled in
the old house with his mother, to whom he devoted
himseff as tenderly and as unremittingly as if she
were his daughter. His father had died in 1837,
Now began the mature life of John Holmes, a Iffe
which continued for over fifty years, varying little
in essentials, but deeply rooted in friendship and
always revealing his sensitive heart and his fan
tastic humor. He was already a "ripe local man,"
saturated in Cambridge traditions and ways — a
zealot for "oppidanism," as he playfully caUed love
of one's native town. In spite of his shyness," he
had a very sociable nature, which endeared him
to his acquaintances in Cambridge and his rela
tives in Boston. Gradually there formed an inner
circle of cronies, several of whom were his coUege
contemporaries. Most famous among these was
James Russell LoweU, seven years younger than
Hohnes, who munediately on leaving college

8 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
plunged enthusiastically into Abolition and other
reform movements. His zeal in these causes, com
bined with his great talent for poetry and his love
of literature, made him an inspiring companion,
and the fact that he was early drawn to John
Holmes is an indication of the range of the latter's
sympathies. At the end of 1844 LoweU married Miss Maria
White, of Watertown, and they spent that winter
in Philadelphia, where he wrote articles for Gra
ham's Magazine, the Pennsylvania Freeman, and
the Broadway Journal. While he was there John
Holmes wrote him the following letter, the first
that has come to hand of their extensive corre
spondence : — To J. R. Lowell
Cambridge, May 19, 1845.
My dear Sir: —
Though I wish you home again, I don't wish you
to come without receiving a letter from me, ac
knowledging your kindness in sending me a paper
which I read with satisfaction.
I have frequently thought of writing without this
reference to mutuality, but the little intercourse I
have had with Cambridge society and the extreme
meagreness of our chronicles and of my own indi
vidual experience, deterred me. My principal occu
pation the past season has been as engineer to an
airtight stove, which I flatter myself I have con-

TO J. R. LOWELL 9
ducted with commendable skUl. Notwithstanding
explosions and rumours of explosions among these
powerful instruments of good or evU, I have sat the
winter long, calm and immoveable, at that extrem
ity of my stove where the door is, and at some
doubtful periods nothing but the moral dignity of
my position has compensated the risk incurred. I
have often contemplated with seriousness a rigid
cast-iron rose in the centre of the door above
mentioned, not knowing but that the following mo
ment I might bear a lively impression thereof upon
my abdomen. On &uch occasions I thought of my
country and the aid I might furnish to science (not
botanical in particular) and remained stern and
unmoved: I have thus in the end contributed my
mite to the science of thermology (excuse the fab
rication of a word). So closely are the spiritual
and material allied here, that this simple structure
of sheet-iron made, for a time, quite a "butt or
bound" (01, Prec.) in my existence, A theoretical
economy based upon the thing gave me placid sat
isfaction for a week or two after the purchase: by
that time the economy was less briUiant, but the
heat was intense and I had a large balance to make
up from the previous winter, and now that win
ter is past, the economical theory is exploded, the
stove is safe, I have been warm and am so far
content. So much for my stove.
I rode round by your father's house a short time
[ago] and looked with much satisfaction at the spot

10 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
where I hope your cottage is to be.^ I should like
to have you a Cambridge householder as soon as
may be. We have had I think more than the usual
share of warm weather this spring, a pleasant invi
tation which Cambridge gives you and Mrs. LoweU
to return to her.
I saw Carter a few days since — he seemed weU
and happy — he has spent the night with me twice
this spring and we have played chess prodigiously
but with extreme calmness of demeanour — Carter
I think would charm the Brahmins and wise men of
the east — his equable deportment alone would en
title him, I think, to attend their levees and soirees;
he might give them lessons in their own geography
and they repay in doctrinal matter; if they should
persuade him into metempsychosis, I think he might
reasonably assume that his soul had changed tene
ments so often, that tranquillity under all circum
stances had been forced upon it by habit,
I hope to see yourself and Mrs, Lowell on here
soon, and that on the first evening of your return
there will be a Southwest wind and a rosy sunset —
and with my best regards to you both, I am
Yours truly.
> Elmwood, situated about a mile west of Harvard Square. Lowell
never built the cottage mentioned, but on his return to Cambridge
Uved with his parents.

TO J. R. LOWELL 11
To J. R, Lowell
Brattleboro', Mag 27, 1846.
Rainy, Wind S.E.
My dear Sir: —
As you sent me a paper from foreign parts, to
wit, PhUadelphia, so I proceed at this time to send
you a letter from among the outer barbarians who
now surround me — to wit, the Brattleborienses.
Yes, Sir, here I am with numerous other sojourn
ers, all of us working our way by water through life,
at least this portion of it, I presume that I have
changed aU the particles in my frame some ten
times over since I came here; stiU you wiU aUow
me to assume the fact of my identity with J, H.,
a lame individual who left Cambridge some time
since, I suppose you may feel some curiosity about
the operations here and their effects, and taking it
for granted that you have read somewhat on the
subject, I can confirm some of the statements fre
quently made by those who have written thereupon
— for instance, as to the evenness of spirits, the
cheerfulness resulting from the treatment and diet,
and in some instances the great curative power
exercised, I say "some instances," for one would
not wish to be involved in any medical discussion
or dubious statements, [Some cases quoted, and a
discussion of the house,]
I need not teU you that our drink is Adam's
Entire. The old and highly respectable firm

12 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Adam & Co., after suffering unmensely from the
various adulterations and impositions of the un
principled upon a deluded pubUc, seem, to judge
by the cu-cle immediately about me, to be in a fair
way to regain their former high reputation. By
the way, if hermits were in like demand as in the
Middle Ages, the Doctor might establish a branch
institution for the Education and Preparation of
Young Hermits, with much success, in my opinion:
the great difficulty nowadays would be with the
beards to obtain the necessary growth. ... I think
my lameness much improved, but I seem a pro
tracted infant always learning to walk. Don't you
think you shall be tempted to look in upon us? . . .
With all my (water) privileges here I look back
fondly upon our ancient and well-beloved Cam
bridge, and thmk much of the pleasure of meeting
my friends there. Brattleboro' is a very pretty
place; one of those that nature does not permit to
be otherwise. To J. R. Lowell
Cambridge, December 30, 1847,
My dear James: —
I send you $5 for Newfoundland — is it meagre?
Then I wiU round out its proportions with many
good wishes and hopes for the poor hungry people,
and am Yours truly.

TO J, R. LOWELL 13
To J. R, Lowell
Pittsfield, September 26, 1849.
My dear James Lowell: —
I left Cambridge on Wednesday, September 5,
at 7| for the Brighton station, vulgo depot. I ar
rived at that place without adventure or incident
worth noticing, entrenched myself firmly behind
my trunk and very corpulent carpet bag, and thus
lay in ambush for the Worcester train. My view
of the landscape through the embrasure in my
little redoubt was limited, but satisfactory as far
as it went, and I listened to the slow and sparse in
terlocutions about me with — what shall I say? —
a gloomy satisfaction. For you are to understand
there was a spongy sky overhead, and everything
even to the aspect and tones of the ticket-seller,
portended rain; and in the narrow and precip
itous defile where our forces were collected, a sud
den rush of the pluvial might have hurried us all
into destruction. Gloomy were we all, then, and
with good reason, and a tear stood in the eye of the
clerk as he gave me my ticket; for he was bound to
die at his post, holding on to the W. R, R,^ treasure
trunk, and awaiting the 8 o'clock up. A silence
came over us all.
Here was I, then, twenty minutes since comfort
ably at home, now in'the centre of a pallid group,
aU fastened and fascinated in this dreadful spot.
» Boston & Worcester Railroad.

14 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
I made an effort to break the horrid sUence and dis
pel the panic which pervaded all, from a cause
which none dared to mention. "How," said I,
looking at Winship's verdant bank opposite, "how
are gooseberries this season?" "Our talk here and
now is not of gooseberries," replied the clerk, in a
solemn tone. I was rebuffed. The clerk sat down,
took a way-bUl and perused it with an earnest and
absorbed gaze, heaving heavy sighs. It seemed to
operate as a sedative. The train came rolling along;
a general cry arose, "We are saved," We mounted
the cars, leaving the clerk in a swoon. I have never
heard of him since, , , ,
Thus far, you see, I have written in the amplify
ing style. If I had only said that I went to Win
ship's and got into the cars, it would have been a
bald and at the same time a succinct truism, and by
the other method I have written nearly two pages,
and barely commenced my western tour. And you
know I am obliged to be economical so as to reserve
a little for oral narrative. The truth is, it is all
a blank from Winship's to Springfield, and from
there to Pittsfield a chasm. So I come to my stay
at Pittsfield, I will describe the place to you when
I come home, I have here been robustious, labori
ous, an early riser, and a prodigious admirer of
nature, I have chopped wood and tried to catch
pickerel, and kiUed a frog (for bait, mark me, and
at a blow — he never knew what hurt him, as the
popular phrase is).

TO J, R. LOWELL 15
Having proceeded thus far in my promised let
ter, I turn from myself to you and the smaU band
of friends in Cambridge, whom I look back upon
with the reverted eye of memory — (what do you
think of this expression — rather handsome, eh?).
I reaUy want to see you again, and as so much time
has elapsed since the disastrous result of the voting
appeared, I hope to see you cheerful — or at least
composed, including the Doctor, who has invested
more extensively in local politics than any of us.
From my elevated position — 2 or 3000 feet above
the sea (ask Carter) — I look down upon my friends
of the plains and bless them like a patriarch.
I write because I said I should; accept that as a
reason for this communication.
And believe me.
Yours affectionately and humbly to command.
The first of the Letters that follow is an excellent
specimen of Hohnes's unconscious art of putting
into a letter pretty much all that a letter should
contain. He gives news of himself and of local
events and persons ; he touches a little on wider con
cerns; and he lets his own personality play freely
over it aU, Lowell, having lost his wife and having
been appointed by Harvard College to the chair of
BeUes Lettres, from which Longfellow had just
resigned, was spending a year of study in Europe
to fit hunself for his prospective duties as professor.

16 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
To J. R, Lowell
Boston, No. 11 Court St.
September 11, 1855, to September 25.
My dear j, L, : —
I sit down now in a very subdued frame of mind
to write you, — loaded with a heavy sense of my
failure to fulfil the promise I gave, to tell you
promptly what had been going on after you left.
There is one streak of light in my moral prospect,
namely that nothing perhaps took place to tell you
of, in which case I am all right. The marriage of
M. W. is totally excluded from my jurisdiction as
a bachelor, and besides that, let me ask myself
and you, what is there to record? The truth is, if
folks will go a-belle-lettering to Europe, or a-get-
ting married to N, York, and so disjointing and dis
organising the society to which they rightly belong,
they ought to let silence brood over the desertion,
and not ask the derelicts to jot down their suffer
ings for amusement,
I wrote so far, I think, on Tuesday September 11,
and it is now the 14th. — I have jogged along this
Summer in a very monotonous manner, and have
seen less of my usual associates in Cambridge than
for a long time before, , , , Henry Ware has been
less in my way than usual, and the fact was ex
plained a few weeks since by his telling me that he
was engaged to Miss Hastings (daughter of Oliver).
. . . This is quite an event and it seems as if Old

TO J, R, LOWELL 17
Cambridge had brooded in silence for a month or
two to produce it.
When I turn from private affairs to public, there
is a comparative fertUity. Poor little Harvard
Branch! was sold up about two months since —
Wm, L. Whitney bought it, $10,500, and he has re
sold it in the most thorough manner — land (most
of it), rails, turntable-stones (foundation-under
pinning), and hath made a good bargain of it.
I should not omit the station house, which was
sold in lengths like tape — and of which the front
part was bought by College for the use of the new
Professor Huntmgton.
Then, one fine Saturday afternoon about two
months since, the Waterworks were symbolized
into existence by Mayor Raymond with a spade,
and the next thing was a handbiU from Nat. Wyeth
circulating through the town and on every post and
corner, reading like this, — "The fisheries at Fresh
Pond are worth |100,000 — they wiU be ruined —
who is to pay for them? There is not water enough
for their purposes, &c. &c, — The charter of the
W, W, C. is invalid, &c." I give you the style and
spirit rather than the words. A lawyer has prayed
for an injunction and on Monday we shaU see if it
wUl be granted — probably not, the public thinks.
Then, one fine day a man up and said, "They
have begun the Horse R.R." — and so they had;
but no symptom had appeared in our part of the
1 Of the Fitchburg Railroad.

18 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
town to indicate such events; up to the very mo
ment of announcement there was only a vague
conjectural opinion — rather a presentiment, in
Old Cambridge, that in the course of some few
coming decades there would be constructed a Horse
R.R. They are now pegging away at it in a style
which contrasts amusingly with the mildly anxious
uncertainty or, perhaps, the philosophical calm
which previously prevailed in Cambridge minds
respecting the project. The first sign that the pub
lic generally discovered of such a proceeding, was a
body [of] men in the middle of West Boston Bridge
hacking and ripping with pickaxes, as if to cut
off the communication between Boston and Cam
bridge, and stop some too importunate invader.
Soon after we beheld heaps of gravel — small pav
ing-stones from the seaside — and timbers — and
soon after, form and comeliness emerging from the
confused mob of operators, in the shape of a track,
complete all but the rail — and they have done a
piece which I shall leave to your fancy to exagger
ate or diminish.^
It is now September 21, and I resume. I went
with my sister to Salem day before yesterday,
Wednesday, to go with Mr. Upham ^ to Plum
Island on Thursday, which I did accordingly and
among other objects of natural beauty that I saw
^ This, the first horse-railroad for passengers in New England, was
opened March 26, 1856.
^ Charles Wentworth Upham, Mr. Holmes's brother-in-law.

TO J. R. LOWELL 19
there was a glass of strong water — We walked
from Newburyport (to which by cars) to Plum
Island, and back again after our dinner, makmg
a decent tramp for (hem! excuse a slight cough)
middle-aged men. But I am afraid you don't care
for Plum Island, and plain Republicans that take
a frugal walk to and fro, breathing as you do the
atmosphere of thrones and dynasties, I fear you
will come back and be a churchwarden and wear
a gold-headed cane and talk about incendiaries
(social). "When I was in Dresden, Su-, in the year
'55, Su-, nothing gave me more pleasure. Sir, than
to see how the lower orders. Sir, were restrained
and coerced. Sir, into decent manners." A tap
with the gold-headed cane on some young Ameri
can's head who has a lesson of reverence to learn,
may accompany this reminiscence.
(September 25.) I have written a word or two
before inserting this new date, which I do by way
of penance, I have just heard last night at the
Doctor's of your disappointment at not finding
letters, and feel a dismal regret at the potentiality,
now past, which I have enjoyed of writing to you
in season. The intention to write was so sound, so
full, so plethoric even, that I have at least furnished
a noble piece of hell-pavement — but I shan't sus
pect you of taking any interest in such improve
ments. The monotone of my previous life has
been changed to a semitone by your departure,
M. White's marriage and H. Ware's engagement.

20 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
and as fast as I accommodate myself, as well as I
can, to each change, some new one comes along. —
I suppose that when you get settled for the winter,
letters will not be so valuable as on first arrival at
Dresden, and mark my words, I mean to send you
a letter, yea more than one, when I know it wUl
be at a discount — when you will utter, "Heinl
Hein!" or some other outlandish expression of dis
approval or indifference — and thus pay social
damages for not writing before. . . .
One thing would please you much if you were
here — it is the immoveable tranquiUity with which
Old Cambridge takes all the innovations — you
know how it bore the gas (a great shock) with
out winking. It has aUowed waterworks and Horse
R.R. to be begun with even greater stoicism —
nobody knew anything about time, place or cir
cumstance, and nobody knows now more than
is thrust before their eyes — I have no doubt I
might safely talk in our coteries of the $2,000,000
stock and $100 shares selling at $150 each, and
fail to create contradiction or excitement. We
have had no Club yet nor talked of it — and I have
hardly seen Carter these three or four weeks. There
has been a Fusion Convention at Worcester and
Rockwell nominated, and it remains to be seen
whether Know O's^ and Whigs will adhere — The
Doctor will tell you probabUities in his letter. . . .
Underwood and Southard produced part of their
1 Know Nothings.

TO J. R. LOWELL 21
opera, which you may have heard of, founded on
[The] Scarlet Letter, at a late musical Convention
with much applause. John Dwight highly ap
proves. . . . C, S,i is thriving and sends his love to
you; for know aU men by these presents, that I am
writing at Np. 11 Court St. — Ninety-nine Fresh
men this year, and 115 Sophs. They ought to
catch another Fresh, somewhere to make the round
hundred. I hope you are having a pleasant time
and doing your duty by storing incidents for the
Club. We all miss you and want you back. If they
make me Law Professor we shall both be in the
faculty together. Yours affectionately.
To J. R. Lowell
Cambridge, November 10, 1855.
My dear Boy: —
I received yours of October 15 two days since
and read it with a great deal of pleasure, notwith
standing the attack on my legal skiU, This I dis
pose of by three alternative statements, 1st. It is
the jest of an honorary brother of the profession ^ —
a privileged communication. 2d. It is a disguised
form of envy — that I readily overlook and com
passionate. 3d. It is a distortion of mind that you
have got among the German jurists, who I know
are my habitual detractors. So you see I am per-
1 C. W. storey, whose oflBce was at 11 Court Street.
2 Lowell himself had qualified as a lawyer, but he never practised.

22 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
fectly easy — and don't you feel any remorse. As
to girls in an astronomical point of view, I am
mostly conversant with fixed stars; and by the way
I was a Uttle shocked that you should allude to
such things as comets — that go flymg about in
open sight with bare tails.
No meeting of the Club! Yes, no meeting of the
Club. Sir! did n't I write in September? and if I
did n't, have we always waited the slow conven
ience of oysters? But let me tell you now that we
have had but one meeting to this time, and more
than that, — that I do not consider ourselves at
present as the regular Club, but as the Club
ad interim only, and if you have credit enough
among the Teutschers to borrow a Latin Diction
ary, you will know what I mean by ad interim. As
to Club divergencies about corks, you do faintly
recall something of the kind. I only retained a
general but profound impression that all corks were
insecure when you were about.
Now, as you say, a truce to nonsense, and let us
begin on the regular matter, as newspapers call it.
I seem up to this point to have been answering my
own first letter.
I am highly pleased with your excerpts from
life about you, — your enthusiastic bugger — your
very innocent or heinously indifferent servants,
and all the other particulars — excellently ob
served and told — go on in the path of duty. Why
can't you keep a Uttle journal of the odd and

TO J, R, LOWELL 23
picturesque, ever so brief? The energy of a little
punctuality is the only tug in such things, as the
Herr Professor knows. Do let me beg you to keep
an eye on historic-remarkable-locals (to compound
Teutsch-Uke). Please exanune the great battle
fields when you come across them, as convenience
allows, and make note ! You ought to bring home
a relic, ff you can get them undoubted, from every
such spot you visit. Especially please recollect that
as things grow commonplace to you by famil
iarity and proximity, they don't to us away, and
so be on your guard against the depreciation. I
would bet on you to go over the most hackneyed
route in Europe, and without effort to give an in
teresting account. I mean confining yourself quite
strictly to mere observation. It is not the roads but
the men who are at fault in the frequent peregrina
tions. Even where a man has little abUity, he can
throw his own grotesque shadow as he goes along
and amuse you. As a private luxury I should like
to send Sibley and P- Dabney i both on a long tour;
they would not only entertain me with very curious
narratives, but would have a splendid controversy
when they got home, for which I should gladly fur
nish paper and ink, relying on them for the need
ful truculence and venom. What bitter aUegations
and contradictions would fly forth and back to
weave the web of controversy !
* John L. Sibley, Harvard A.B. 1825, Librarian of Harvard Col
lege, 1856-77; and J. Peele Dabney, Harvard A.B. 1811 — both
worshipers of minute details.

24 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
"Sibley says, p, 643, paragraph 9241: 'The cele
brated Spire of Strasburgh, completed 11 j a.m.
March 10, 1197, is 490| feet in altitude,' [Dabney
replies:] "Had Mr, S, elevated his unwieldy bulk
to the height which accurate observation de
manded, and registered in his caput mortuum results
which his egregious parsimony perhaps would have
hindered his spending the requisite six groschen
to obtain, he would not have had his usual success
in diffusing error; he would have told the world
one solitary truth, and spoiled the harmony of
his wretched compilation — this truth, viz,, that
Strasburgh Spire is 492 feet NO inches high!"
Again ex parte Sibley, "Mr, Dabney says, p. 214,
'That the inhabitants of the District of Streib-
hauser make frequent use at supper of a kind of
pease porridge which they call Hoegen Schwasch.'
Now I spent two months in this region endeavour
ing to verify the date of the erection of the town
hall of Voettelsuntrink, which is the capital of the
District, and I can confidently say that I never saw
pease used in any shape more than half a dozen
times, and never at supper or in the evening! So
much for Mr. D's accuracy!"
Now to tell you about our town. Your friends are
well I believe all round, except Henry Ware, who
has a severe typhoid. He was reported better yes
terday for the first time.
The internal improvements seem to be running
a mad race through the vUlage, — ploughing up

TO J. R. LOWELL 25
roads and intercepting our daily pilgrims. It takes
about an hour to go to Boston now, starting on
Main Street. The Uttle bridge is being rebuUt and
intercepts Main and Harvard Streets; the travel
for a part of the way is all thrown on Broadway,
which is wofuUy cut and slashed. The Horse Rail
Roadi has got up to the apex made by Main and
Harvard. The waterpipes have crept along Brat
tle Street, I don't know how far. I will now give
you a photograph of the Common as it appears
this bright Saturday afternoon. I have been to the
window and taken the impression. The result is
five teams in different directions, and your neigh
bor WUl is dismounting from his chaise at the
Harvard R.R, Station^ — that was. You know
H.B.R.R.^ has been sold up. Well, College bought
the station house, curvature of the spine and all.
They have cut off two thirds or more of the rear
for a carpenter's shop (the old College carpenter's
shop), and left the front for the new Professor
Huntington ^ for moral gymnastics, I don't know
exactly what. Well, WiU is in the photograph dis
mounted there — he came out in a minute or two
^ The horse-car line, between Bowdoin Square, Boston, and Har
vard Square, was laid in 1855-56.
" The Harvard Branch of the Fitchburg Railroad, of which the
Cambridge station was near the Holmes House, had recently been
sold, and its traffic discontinued.
^ Harvard Branch Railroad.
* Professor Frederic Dan Huntington, Harvard Divinity School,
1842; Plummer Professor of Christian Morals, 1855-60; P. E. Bishop
of Central New York, 1869-1904.

26 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
and went his way — restless spirit of a jeweller
turned gentleman. WeU, for the photograph. I
don't give you the general view because you know
it too well — but the remains of the old schoolhouse
shed a homely horror yet, on the opposite side.
The old Farwell store with 5000 ft. of land was
sold about a month since for — how much, think
you? verily $14,000 — by the Reads, some of them
(to be occupied by John), and with their excellent
conservatism to be only raised and enlarged — not
replaced, I see Carter now very little; Underwood^
a little — and call pretty often on the Doctor. So
ciety is a watchman's beat with me. I go forward
and backward, sometimes as you know, crying
Twelve — aye Two o' the clock and aU is weU — ¦
but that seldom now. By the way, with refer
ence to your comparative juvenility, I hope you
like the ink I use. I find it very pleasant to write
with and shall hardly expect any complaint from
you, but if its black stare is offensive, I will water
it another time.
You don't know perhaps that the K. N.'s ^ have
triumphed again by about 14,000 plurality. The
Whigs have dwindled to the smaUest dimensions —
about 14,000 votes in the whole state,
I am much pleased with the cab-horse enthusi
asm of the bug artist — a right good expression.
' Francis H. Underwood, one of the founders of the Atlantic
Monthly. 2 Know Nothings, a transient political party.

TO J. R. LOWELL 27
I rather think you are having a good time in
Dresden — do you drink beer by the yard and eat
sausages by the mile? How did they feel about
Sebastopol?^ You can answer my question to any
other correspondent who will tell me. What are
their affinities, I wonder. The Saxons I should
think would like to see Russia cudgeled. Oh, about
the inscription at Coblentz — that prefecture
might be the [illegible] of an ItaUan as weU as^a
Russian. At any rate, whatever the French may
be, I looked only to the sentiment, leaving it to
minuter critics who should come after me to cen
sure the language.
I have been lame now about a month, but have
hobbled out in the evening with a crutch — deem
myseff a good deal better now. I am very much
pleased with your letter and commend you for
sending it, — (coals of juniper) I am gomg to read
it to night at the Doctor's, omissis omittendis.
To j. R. Lowell
Cambridge, December 6, 1855.
The same mk I see with which I wrote you be
fore, but I wiU have another bottle e'er this page is
finished or perish inlthe struggle to obtain it. This
is fit only to record decayed friendships and obso
lete enmities — or virtuous resolutions not to be
enforced — or certificates of stock in the H.B,R,R,
1 Sebastopol surrendered to the French and English on Septem
ber 8, 1855, after a siege of over 11 months.

28 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
I am very much pleased to discern in your letter
to me ("the receipt of which is hereby acknowl
edged") the marks of cheerfulness. It is' your
bounden duty to be [as] cheerful as you can — you
must n't sit tapping on your chest, as a raven
might do upon a snuff-box that he could not open,
but you must fly round in obedience to the law
of your natural temperament, although the reading
should be temporarily obscured. Germany seemed
to me a cosy and companionable land, and you
have already lit upon some that confirm my pre
possessions — your nice Dr. Reichenbach, to whom
I would fain send my regards is one of them — your
bug enthusiast would make an infusion of amusing
character that would flavor a dozen ordinary men.
I should like to make a concrete bug out of the
parts of divers species, and send it to him, if I had
the artistic skill.
All things have gone on in a moderate way since
I wrote you last except Railroad and Waterworks;
they have been in a state of high inflammation
since theu- commencement; it has come to a head
now I understand down in our Square, and a vio
lent eruption there promises a speedy improve
ment of the complaint, I have been lying by since
I wrote you — my leg is much better now — but I
speak by hearsay about the middle of the vUlage
as yet — not having been there for a good while;
but I have tramped about with my crutch in other
directions.

TO J. R. LOWELL 29
We had Club last Thursday night, 6th (a week
ago), at Carter's and tonight, Friday, Mth, have
it at the Doctor's, vice Underwood's who was to
have had it. We enjoyed your verses, which the
Doctor read to us, exceedingly, and had a right
merry tune over them. Carter has the goat yet,
but we found that Jimmy had made a bonfire of
the hay which had been laid in for its winter feed.
Jinuny sat at a corner of the table at the beginning
of our play and was examined by the Club respect
ing his misdeeds. We found the various packs of
cards that were presented, mbced up and disfig
ured, and after some exertion selected one sound
pack. We played tiU near 12 and who do you sup
pose beat every time and one staggering mephitis?
It is in season that I recoUect the 176 bye-law of
our Club, which says that "no special information
respecting the doings of the Club shall be trans
mitted to correspondents out of the country even
though the same should be members thereof."
In compliance with that ordinance, I forbear. But
for this ordinance I should mention that we had
Bourbon Whiskey, crackers and cheese.
The village of course seems very quiet to me, I
make my calls in the evening — go to the Doctor's,
etc, and have stretched up to Carter's two or three
times. I don't very often see little Mabel, ^ When
I do, she appears very bright and well, Charley
Storey comes out to see me generally twice a week
1 Mr. Lowell's daughter.

30 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
and makes himseff very agreeable; he insists on
looking at the black front of my stove instead of
taking the guest's seat and looking in at the door
where fire may be seen as weU as felt. He has been
quite busy lately and is in very good spirits.
Mrs. Horsford died a short time since, at Shelter
Island where they had gone to spend Thanksgiv
ing, Dr. Harris has been very Ul with pleurisy, is bet
ter. Judge Jackson died yesterday morning — he
has been very infirm for the last year,
Henry Ware is but just getting about now —
walked as far as our house for the first time on
Monday, and then would n't come upstairs but
rested in the entry a few minutes, — he begins to
gain faster now.
I look out on the Common — there is about an
inch of snow, but the roads are black. I can with
great ease imagine you swinging across it with your
chamois stick and your great blue cloakcoat. I
bear a grudge to that chamois ever since we hooked
so many passengers with it as we travelled Boston
streets one night. You needed a ball on your horn
as much as an ox. I hope you'll take my advice
yet, and get it truncated or baUed.
If you go to Paris do look at the Revolutionary
places for me — at the Abbaye, etc., such as remain.
Monday morning, December 17.
I must as usual make an allusion to the weather.
It is a beautiful April morning, mud plenty in the

TO J. R. LOWELL 31
streets. We have been having several days of rain.
Whenever you write me again do tell me about
your weather — give us the values in Fahrenheit
if you can. How many valuable impressions have I
lost by the references to Reaumur's scale, whose
relations to his rival F, I have never remembered
two days together; but if enlightened by foreign
residence you should be tempted to smile at my
ignorance, let me ask, do you remember the values
of a kopeck, a rouble, a rupee, a piaster, of an hec
tolitre, a lispund, a kilogramme? all these are fa
miliar to me as — but let me not boast myself.
We had Club on Friday night at the Doctor's,
it not being quite convenient for Underwood, who
has it next week, Lois as you call her, Mrs, H, as I
do, went to a concert at Mr. Hodges's with Miss
Dunlap. There was a romp of chUdren going on in
the parlor. After we had played a little while,
Mabel came in with Sam, both in high spirits, and
bade us good-night. Mabel looks nicely. Well at
it we went at about 8, and I think we did not leave
off till somewhere near 12^. Ordinance 176 again
prevents my telUng you who beat. Perhaps I may
say that if immediate execution had awaited the
party which lost the rubber, Little and B.^ would
not at this day be without their literary assistant
— the goat would not be without a master. Carter
and Underwood occasionally fall into a controversy
1 Little & Brown, the firm of Boston publishers, with which John
Bartlett was connected.

32 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
about their respective firms, in which each plumes
his feathers and crows a little. Carter assumes the
air of a long-established dealer whose eminence in
trade is too well known to need much argument;
Underwood responds as a pioneer in enterprise,
tells of splendid sales, and smiles gently at the
decent moderation of the old concern. The Doc
tor and I applaud every dexterous thrust and fierce
dig. Carter's cigars are rather severely borne upon
since your lines, but he smokes them with great
equanimity. We had a very pleasant time.
Please tell me the next time you write me what
weather attends your north, south, east and west
winds generally. I should like to compare them
with ours. I am willing to appoint you my phUos
opher at the Court of Saxony,
Waldo Higginson^ and his wife have come out to
stay the winter at Mr. Whittemore's.
I went over to Mrs. Howe's last night. Doctor
and wife and girls there; a pleasant quiet time.
I hope you are very well and happy now at Dres
den. Our winter and fall have been very mild to
this time — if yours have been as warm, you have
been well off. Brown got back here a few weeks
since in good condition — called to see me a few
minutes. I believe I have exhausted my stock of informa-
» Waldo Higginson, Harvard 1833, died 1894.

TO J, R, LOWELL 33
tion and suggestion for the time and so will con
clude, adding a postscript if occasion offers.
Yours affectionately.
To J. R. Lowell
Cambridge, Janvier 27, 1856.
MoN CHER Jacques: —
Je vous repondrai en Frangais (c'est a dire pour
une part de ma lettre) parce que je crois que vous
recevrez beaucoup d'amusement en voyant ma
pauvrete en regard de cette langue, et en riant sur
mes mesappropriations et fabrications des mots.
Neanmoins je sens une certaine embarrassement
quand je cherche dans ma memoire pour les tresors
de Wandstrocht et de Nugent. Depuis j'ai tra-
vaUle avec ces sages, la neige a tombe sur ma tete et
refroidi mon ardeur pour les langues, Je reste mon
credit principalement sur lequel j'ai oublie, Appar-
emment, la langue Frangaise est promotive de la
perspiration. Je sens une chaleur oppressive, sans
la moindre particle de I'ardeur. Mais courage, il
faut que nous supportions notre reputation comme
linguiste. J'ai toujours eu une grande admiration
pour la "lingua Franca," C'est une approximation
a une langue universelle — une espece de compro
mise par laquelle tous donnent et tous regoivent un
peu. J'aimerais mieux d'en faire usage que de la
pure Frangaise.
Pour les nouvelles de Cambridge, nous avons eu
depuis un mois un hiver des plus forts. Les train-

34 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
eaux "have run all that time" comme disent les
Americains, Le Docteur Harris^ est mort et Sib
ley pleurt officieUement, non autrement, je crois. La
nouvelle compagnie a achete tous les omnibus de
Stearns et WiUard, ^
I can't stand it any longer; the French does not
disguise my poverty of news nor the news my
poverty of French.
The truth is, that everything here is quiescent
as usual — the people are trying to keep them
selves warm and not much else, except to freeze
themselves occasionally on sleighrides.
As usual I had thought this time to have begun
an answer to your letter immediately, I received
it December 22,
I was very sorry to find you repeat your assertion
about the internal pain, and I hope most sincerely
that since that time you have improved and are
well. I have heard at the Doctor's that you really be
came ill upon it, and I hope that, from that time,
you have taken a new start in health. When you
wrote I presume you to have been better,
I trust you wUl get nicely over your difficulty
and write me heartily to that effect,
I will now allude to the other parts of your let
ter which present a violent contrast to the idea of
' Thaddeus William Harris, Harvard CoUege Librarian, 1831-56.
Sibley succeeded him.
^ Owners of the Une of omnibuses which ran to Boston.

TO CHARLES ELIOT NORTON 35
iUness, In the first place let me say that the "cab-
horse enthusiasm" to which I alluded, and which
you say you don't understand, was an expression of
yours in a former letter when you were describing
the entomological enthusiast, and it hit my fancy
as very good.
I am much pleased with the collectanea of actual
Ufe that you send me; they are very good. I am
glad to have them down on paper, but the idea of
your not being in the good spirits of high health
damps the fun of them.
I ought to tell you, perhaps, that I have got well
again, so as to walk about.
I don't make a point of going to Boston very
regularly now, my business not being so urgent (as
it was, shaU I say?) as to oblige me to go often, I
Uve a very quiet Iffe as you may suppose, and have
my melancholy days as weU as the rest of the world,
but make out tolerably, taking it altogether.

To Charles Eliot Norton
February 21, [I860].
My dear Mr. Norton, —
I thank you for your invitation for Wednesday
evening, I am sorry that I cannot enjoy the occa
sion in your company, but I will drink Lowell's^
health and your own, in the best potation I may
have, at 9 o'clock by the town bell. And if the
1 J. R. Lowell's birthday waa February 22.

36 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
ringer by any mysterious impulse shall ring a
louder and a longer peal than is his wont, I wUl
then drink to him, as a worthy workman in his
craft, that he may have only so much rheuma
tism as may make his daUy and nightly labors at
the bell a matter of sympathy and admiration, and
may give a moral coloring to his 11 and 4 o'clock
draughts. You will congratulate me I know when I teU
you that I have an immense Uterary enterprise on
hand. I prefer, however, to keep this a profound secret
between yourseff and me until I shall sometime
teU you what the enterprise is.
Yours truly John Holmes.
To J. R, Lowell
Cambridge, January 18, 1866,
Mein lieber Jacobus: —
If anything of which I draw satisfaction there is,
it shaU be that havmg gelandet to this country so
late than by the year 1812, I have so learned the
tongue's idiom and have out through penetrated
its speaking way {weg sprake) of it, I will not there
fore to write you in other as our adopted speech.
I have with Herr Bartlett twice computing to
outcome to see thee bin gehinderd. My ankel, of
which I hope I was far on carried, has itseff very
much in through worse bettered {bet ans bloser-

TO J. R. LOWELL 37
besser gedruckt), so that to walk is a not-to-be-
thought-of thing.
Here my dear James, I drop the pseudo-Teutonic,
and place my foot on my native heather, to-wit,
Webster's and Worcester's Dictionaries.
I have not heard directly from you but from
indirections which have come to me, have supposed
you better of your cold. I hope you are clear of it,
I am sure. If you are well enough to have Club,
I must tell you that I cannot come. Tuesday eve
nuig I went over to J. B.'s with crutch and cane
noighty briskly, feeUng as if I could ahnost do with
out them — came home all right and when I went
to bed had to take my crutch to get there, from
excessive lameness. So I am all taken aback again
and feel obUged to resume the careful process.
We beat you at the Doctor's 3 to 2 I think (we
won the rubber anyhow), J. B. playing for you.
Twice, as our German friend on the other page has
told you, I have been coining up to see you. On
Tuesday night J. B. was hindered by a dmner invi
tation and could n't be out in season.
Present my regards to Mrs, Lowell, (That is
good "old school," is n't it?)
Wishing the Club all sorts of prosperity and a
little less colds and lame shins.
Assure me of thy prosperous oncoming by note
or person.

38 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
To John Bartlett
! ! J. B. This a horridly trivial letter for a man of
my years. Read it to yourself and Burn it.
Cambridge, Monday forenoon, August 9, '68.
My dear j. B, : —
I think I see you "laying off" in the country of
"protuberances" (See Geogr. Def° " Mountain "),
your fishing-rod leaning against one mountain,
your hat hung on the summit of another, and your
self and Mrs, B, and Miss B, sitting in the valley be
tween, discussing the prospects of the First Parish
in Cambridge, whUe I here at home no less public-
spirited look out of my window at short intervals
to see that the repairs go on properly.
Solitude reigns here. The average number of
people that pass for twelve hours from 6 to 6, per
hour is t^j. At 10.05 p.m. the travel (of pedestrians)
is 0, and from that time tUl 6 the next morning,
you can hear a small dog bark, over the river. I
should like to hear a hand-organ, or some fire
crackers, or some saw-filing or something. The only
amusement we have is the burglaries. You would
be surprised to see how cheerful everybody looks
when there has been a "breaking and entering"
(local expression). But they are very rare.
Of course we can't count the funerals that pass
through town as gaieties; but I fear that some peo
ple — I hesitate to express my thought — yes I

TO JOHN BARTLETT 39
wUl say it — that some people begm to enjoy them.
The city government foresaw the dullness and mel
ancholy of midsummer and by a happy thought,
they instituted repairs on the old burial ground to
keep people's spirits up. There are no mosquitoes
nor bugs and I confess I miss them — they made
things Uvely, at any rate. I hope you continue to
have a most complete good time. All the fish
hereabouts are delighted at your excursion and are
making holiday. Week before last I went with J. L,
to Concord, and stayed with the Judge ^ from
Wednesday to Friday evening, — had a good time
and came home to resume the old routine,
Henry Ware has come home, I shall call on him
directly, and expect at the same time to enquire
after Nim, whose guardian I had expected to be at
this tune.
The Doctor is at home, and Tracy, who has been
away, and James Howe, who has ditto. The broth
ers are gomg on the 20th to Worthington. I think
it is where they Uved when Uttle children. I wUl
now leave a space to fiU up, if the general depression
and vacuity here wiU furnish me with means.
Diary of a citizen of Cambridge
Aug, 1. Repairs of meetinghouse and burying
ground going on — a dorbug flew in at a
" window — caused alarm of burglars — great
excitement in the town.
> Judge E. R. Hoar.

40 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Aug, 2, Repahs stiff going on; a man who had n't
left enough in his bottle f eU off his cart but
escaped without broken legs — a great deal
of excitement in the town,
3, Repairs stiff going on.
4, Repairs continued.
5, Repairs on the meetinghouse going on.
6, Repairs of meetinghouse and burial ground
very considerably advanced.
7. Workmen still busy on the meetinghouse.
8. The repairs of the church are continued,
9. The meetinghouse stiU under repair.
I shaU surprise you perhaps by telUng you that
I too am going to make an excursion; and where do
you suppose? I am going across the water. What
do you say to that? I am going to leave my native
home — its solitudes, sweet though sad — its asso
ciations — its group of familiar friends — and cross
the dreary waste of waters to Boston.
Please tell Miss B. that I thank her for her letter,
and that the small contribution did not deserve
such a liberal notice. Tell her that I am delighted
to hear of the general enjoyment of the party, and
that I know I should enjoy a great deal to be with
them. I thank you and Mrs. B. for your kind message.
I shall expect you aU to come back surcharged
with narrative, for which I pledge myself to supply
an audience.

TO JOHN BARTLETT 41
The men are just going by with their scythes to
cut the grass in Harvard Square — thought by
good judges to be at the rate of 2| tons to the acre.
There is a man under my window says he wants
to find the way to Porter's — has been wandering
about for an hour and has n't seen a person. Do
you call that soUtude or not. I fear that I am verg
ing toward fiction. That won't do. But facts are
very scarce indeed.
With kind regards to you aU. I am yours aff.
J. H.

CHAPTER II
settling down
Cambridge in the fifties of the nineteenth cen
tury was a pleasant place to live in; sufficiently
near to Boston to put its inhabitants within reach
of theatres and concerts, and of the bustle which
commerce brings to a large seaport, and of the
official dignity of a capital city. But the town itself
felt no inferiority; indeed, its leading people seem
sometimes to have looked down a Uttle on the rest
of the world, — including Boston. The old nota
bles, who dated from the early days of the Re
public, had nearly all passed away, but the recol
lections they had left were still fresh in the minds
of their descendants, and the Spirit of the founders
was a vitalizing reality.
Great men dwelt then in Cambridge, The Craigie
House was the home of Longfellow, a poet whose
works had already become household words in
America and whose fame was surely spreading
through the world. No foreigner came to these
shores without seeing hun. Lowell, too, was rapidly
rising as a figure in our national literature. Both
he and Longfellow served in turn as professors in
the University, and gave an unacademic quality
to their teaching. Agassiz, the inspired Swiss, was

SETTLING DOWN 43
making discoveries in natural history as entrancing
as fairy tales.
Less commanding than these three, but stiU great
personages in Cambridge were the older members
of the Harvard faculty — James Walker, the Presi
dent; Francis Bowen, the vehement philosopher
and economist; Cornelius C. Felton, the Grecian;
Edward T. Channing, the Professor of Rhetoric;
Joseph Lovering, the physicist; Asa Gray, the mas
ter botanist; Benjamin Peirce, the foremost of
American mathematicians; and Jeffries Wyman,
the anatomist. Jared Sparks, ex-President, had re
cently given up his professorship of History, and
his predecessor, the versatile Edward Everett, con
tinued as an Overseer of the College.
The younger group numbered several members
destined soon to take the lead in their respective
fields: Francis J. Child m English, George M, Lane
in Latin, Josiah P. Cooke in Chemistry, WilUam
W. Goodwin in Greek, and Charles W. EUot.
Life in Cambridge was perforce simple, because
it was automatically regulated by the salaries of the
professors, which were smaU. You dined at three
in the afternoon, and you had a frugal supper at
seven. Few of the academic folk could afford to
keep a carriage; but hospitality — which can thrive
on a very slender purse, because it springs from the
heart and not from the purse — did not lack.
Unattached to the University, were Boston law
yers or merchants, who found a congenial residence

44 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
in Cambridge. Nor should we forget the retired
professors, or their widows and families, who shed
upon the new generation the fading glories of their
earlier, happier prime. A social philosopher might
have wondered at the tendency of those families to
split up into clusters of two or three unmarried
sisters each, whom their friends called, without
disrespect, "girls," no matter how advanced their
age. They helped to lend to the place intellect
ual and social quaintnesses that reminded you of
"Cranford," John Holmes slipped in and out of these various
strata, having companions in each and observing all
much more closely than they perhaps suspected.
He followed the lives of his friends so sympatheti
cally that what happened to them were events in his
own life. Above all, he cared for the welfare of his
mother, the little old lady of fourscore and upward
whose animation seemed undiminished.
The interest which formed the mainstay of his
social diversions, and to which he most frequently
alludes, was the Whist Club. This consisted of
himself and LoweU, Dr, Estes Howe and Robert
Carter. Dr, Howe had been a classmate of his at
Harvard, had studied medicine, and had migrated
to Cincinnati, where he practiced a short time, and
then abandoned his profession for a business career.
Returning to Cambridge, he married for his second
wife a sister of Mrs. Lowell. Carter was born at
Albany the same year as Lowell. His parents were

SETTLING DOWN 45
Roman CathoUcs, but, after attending a Catholic
school for a year, at fifteen, he became a Sweden
borgian. On coming to Cambridge he assisted
Lowell in editing the Pioneer, a short-lived literary
magazine of which LoweU was the editor. When
this failed, he secured a position as clerk in the
Cambridge post office. Next, he was secretary to
Prescott, the historian; then, editor of the Com
monwealth, a Boston weekly newspaper; and so,
with journalism, politics, and high-grade hack-writ
ing for the publishers, he led a varied existence.
In 1854 he caUed a meeting at Worcester which
resulted in the formation of the Republican Party
in Massachusetts. He was a comrade whom LoweU
and Holmes found most friendly and entertaining.
The members of the Club met, in turn, at each
other's houses, played their game, and then re
galed themselves with supper. Only the most
urgent caU kept them from their appointment at
the Club, and then one of two or three substitutes
filled the vacant place, Henry Ware, the youngest
of these, was the son of WilUam Ware, whose novel,
"Zenobia," won great popularity in the United
States and England and is still reprinted. John
Bartlett, another of the group, was connected with
the prosperous publishing house of Little &
Brown in Boston. He resided in Cambridge and
devoted his leisure moments to compUing a volume
of "FamUiar Quotations," the first edition of which
appeared in 1855.

46 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
AU these men had much in common — an appre
ciation of humor, a love of books and mellowness,
and individual hobbies which made them interest
ing to themselves and to their feUows. From
Holmes's letters we might infer that they were
epicures, but their epicurism was innocent, and
their relish for a dish or for a bottle of "the rosy"
seems to have been an echo of the talk of bygone
clubmen in books. The importance of their little
circle, especially for Holmes, lay in the fact that
it afforded the best conditions for strengthening
friendship. The Goliath Tittle Letters
Mr. Holmes was always very fond of children and
he went about among the little sons and daugh
ters of his friends like a fairy godfather, distribut
ing shiny dimes and quarters, telling wonderful
stories and playing strange, amusing parts. In
the series of letters which follow he pretended to be
Goliath Tittle, a sailor from Kennebunk, He wrote
them to his nephew Edward Holmes, the younger
son of the Doctor, The boy was born in 1847,
North Penny Royal West Parrish Mass.
September 14, 1853.
Dear Ned
It seems a long while since I wrote to you for
then I remember I wore jacket and trousers all of
a piece and now Ive wore regulur pants & boots for

THE GOLIATH TITTLE LETTERS 47
ever so long. I wore straps a little but busted em
playing of footbaU and afterwards old Grouts dog
eat the football, case and aU and it made him
plagey sick. I staid Commencement time at Cam
bridge with Joe Dunster and we had a first rate
time but I got sick they said it was eating water-
meUens and oysters before diner, and peaches after
ward and custards, but I guess it was some green
apples that I eat after breakfast and drank a lot of
mUk after em but I had to take eppikak and lots of
rubub and I tell you what I didnt hardly know
who I was for two or three days. They kept me
short of eating for ever so long and I eat up a whole
lout of bread that I found in the house and it didnt
hurt me any. I guess that I shall be a carpenter
it is real good fun a planing, while the carpenters
was gone home to diner the other day that are
working at our house I planed a good deal but they
said I spoUed the plane and the folks had to pay
for it ever so much and a Uttle saw too that I
ground to sharpen it and they said they should
take it all out of my allowance which I have fopence
a week, I go a fishing here and caught an eel the
other day but he bit my hook off so that I could
not get hun, I should like to go a shooteing theres
a great many chip birds about here but the folks
wont let me Ive got a real fine bowarrer it shoots
like anything and I broke a great decanter with it
the other day that was on the edge of the winder
just washed ever so far off I did n't think I should

48 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
hit it but it did and broke it aU to smash, and I
got a hiding for it and the folks say it must come
out of my allowance. BUly Bumpus has been to
the CristaU Pallas with his father and he says he
got lost and took up by the poUs and carried to the
watchhouse and there was a man give him some
apples and his father come and took hun out and
give him a quarter of a dollar he says he had a fust
rate time and tried to get lost agin but he couldent
somehow I go to school now again and we have
Banks in the school which we keep in our desks I
and Jerry Battles had one for five hundred thou
sand dollars but the master took all the bills away
and give Jerry a hiding because his name was on
the bills for Pressident I broke three squares of
glass at the Schoolhouse the other day trying to
pull Uttle Tom Twiggs in to the winder and the
master give me a hiding and told the folks and they
had to pay thirty seven cents a square and it, all
got to come out of my allowance, I havent had
any money for a good whUe and I offered to tend
cows after school for old Mr, Goathorn the town
driver and he promised to give me some money
sometime, but just as quick as he was out of sight
Corners red cow she run after me and chased me
and catched me under the jacket with her horns
just as I was agetting over the fence and tore it
putty bad, but Tom Twiggs and Jerry Battles and
I stoned her for it afterwards
I should have wrote to you before but the other

THE GOLIATH TITTLE LETTERS 49
day I and Tom and Jerry fought a bumbly bees
nest and we aU got stung about the eyes so that we
could n't see for putty near a week
My mother says she should like to have you come
and see us Yours truly Goliath Tittle,

Island of Boogus, Long 171 Lat 9^
Sept. 6, 1854,
My dear Edward,
I went out from Kennebunk on another voyage
and was Ship wracked and cast on Boogus Island
where I now am. They are very clever folks on
this island only they don't wear much clothes and
eat each other a good deal, which they are very
good eatting as I no having been obleeged to assist
at a good many feests. I was tatood once afore
being ketched by the lousys in the South Attlan-
tic, and they tattood me in round figgers but the
Boogus Islanders they tattood square so that I had
toe be dun aUover agin which throwd me into a
high feever being very painfull, which I am now
aU weU and look very curious. Tuesdays and Fri
days wee have to fight the Popo men which comes
over to steal our folks on those days and we have a
pretty smart time using clubs & kobags and titis
and stones.
I hope to come home next year if I can only get
on board of a vessel.

50 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
I send you some toppo sheUs which they make
pappaws of and hope you wiU like them.
I 'm dreadful tired of bread fruit which is not like
bread hardly at all.
If you See Hercules or Og give my love to them
Your friend
Goliath Tittle
WiscASSET Sept. 15, 1854.
My deer Edward
It is now a long whil sens I have wrote too you;
sens whic time I have grode very tal and bigg but I
have not had no scholeing skersly on account of
haveng ben to sea pritty nere oU the time sens
and find it exseding hard for to spel alsoe having
been so much in forren parts where they speaks so
defferint. I ran a little whil cabing boy in a slupe
from Wiscasset to Bosten and one trip we put in
ter Gloshister and I staid ashore and let the vessel
go on, and I heern they threaten soe about walup-
ping uf me if they could ketch me thet I kem to
Boston on foote and got Aunt Robbens to git me a
berth with Capting Crowder of the Ship Dead
lights which as I found arterwards hed olways been
very onlucky. This Capting fell into a way of
knocking me down after breakfast, which tuffened
me a good deal, and I grode very fast, and the
Capting put his shoulder out down the hatch and
I got along with the mate fust rate, and we got
amung the Uands in the Persific, and the Cappen

THE GOLIATH TITTLE LETTERS 51
he was ashore with the bote one day at the Fegees
and they cotch him and made a rost of him and ett
him along with two of the crew. Well upon this we
up anker and made off, and wee kum to another
Uand and traded, and I went off with Joseph
Grummitt of Squam for to see the island and we
got took prizoners and was carried differant ways
by them that took us. I should er had a fust rate
time, plenty of benarners & breadfruit and every
thing but they would have me tatooed, and as they
had got kind er fond of me they would have it done
in fust rate style, and I never see the like afore —
they war two hours a day for six weeks making all
kinds of figgers of man & beast and bird on my unfor-
tunit hyde with a thing like a fine tooth comb which
they drove into me and then rubbed in the ink; you
might a hearn me anywheres within a league it
hurt so and it throad me into a high fever and I was
sore for two months; weU bye and bye they set me
over to a another tribe and this tribe talked of tat
tooing me agin in their fashion which was different
and I run away and hid by the shore and see a ship
and made signals and was took off amost starved —
WeU I served as mariner aboard this ship for about
six months, and whUe she lay at San Francisco I
went up to the mines and dug five hundred doUars
worth of gold and then I cum back to the ship and
I foun she warnt ready to saU and I bought a wheel-
barrer, and used to be porter and made fourty
doUars a day for a month, and then I cum home in

52 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
the ship to New York the name of her was the
Harricane. So I cum back to Wiscasset, and they
was terrible glad fur to see me, but felt dredful bad
about the tattoos which made me look like all git
out as they say. WeU I put my money in the bank
twelve hundred dollars, and about a week after I
cum home, a man comes and offers me from Mr.
Barnum $500. doUars for six months for an exhibi
tion, for a wild Tongarree man but I wouldnt do
it and I have been to Mr. Hayes the Kimmist, and
he says he can take the tattoos out of me for one
hunderd doUers. If I can get em out I am going to
school for to get some larnin and ff I cant I guess I
shall go to sea agin. If you come to Wiscasset 111
give you some shells and an Injun batt that they
knock f olkses brains out with — And am
Yours truly
Goliath Tittle
Kennebunk Port Sept. 14, 1855.
My dear Ned,
I have been a sailing for some time out of Glos-
sishter. Cape Ann in the Sloop Tremendous of
40 tun a carrying of ballist to Boston, We most
generUly git folks to discharge it from the vessel so
that I have had a putty good chance to go about
and see the town Ukewise for to go into the coun
try. About a fortnite ago I went to the Museum
to see the curriosities, but I found that I had seed
prittey much all of em in forren parts where Ive

THE GOLIATH TITTLE LETTERS 53
been. They had a shark there about fifteen foot
long that they seemed to think a good deal of —
why Ive Seen em off in the Pessific two and thirty
foot long easy — and there was one that eat our
cook up when I was aboard of the Albertross at the
Fogaroo Islands that was forty foot clear from his
catheads to his tafferl — for we kotch him wihin
an hour arterwards and meassherd him and we
found the cook a laying in him just as comfertable
as ef it was his bunk, and we should ha hed him on
duty agin ff the shark hednt accidently a bit him
right through the head in swallerin hun on account
as we supposed of his woollen cap which kind of
shoked hun. Then they had kinnoos that I didnt
think nothing of, for Ive owned twice as putty ones,
when I was a prisoner among the Shagmarac is
lands to the Cannyballs I believe I told you before
in a letter that I had been prisoner to the Canny-
balls as I have been in various places, and they al
ways treated me well — I have n't got a word to
say aginst em — but they was dreadful fond of
eating one another as I told you before. If a Shag-
maracker catched a Teefoo man or a Teefoo man
catched a Shagmaracker it was aU day with em
right off — theyd fat em up a little if they was
lean but if they wasn't why just give em a knock or
two^with them kobags, and then invite the com
pany to come about three hours after to the chum
chum or feast — The museum man was so tickled
with my tattooing that he wanted for to hire me

54 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
for a curiosity, but I wouldnt — I dont make a
great deal of money but I ant going to exhibit any
how. There was a man up at Boston told me I
might make a good Uving a going round amongst
the mmistery and others for a reformed canniball
but I told Em I wouldnt do no such a thing as to
go and cheat for a living. The last trip as I made
from Glossishter I brought a kind of venter with
me a lot of wooUen socks that I bot cheap down
here to the Cape, and I set out to sell em in Boston,
and I did sell some of em to a pritty good proffit
but I see so many poor folks without stockings that
I give a good many away so that I didn't make
much. I went out to Cambridge one day cos I
wanted to enquire after your grandmother and I
found her first rate, and she give me a piece of cake
and seemed to pity me a good deal because Id been
tattooed, and made me a present of a quarter of a
dollar. She told me that she had just heerd from
her son Wendell to Louisville and he was very well,
and she asked me how I used to feel to be so fur
away from Kennebunk, and I told her I got putty
much used to it but everyonce in a while I wanted
to See the folks to home. She asked me if I ever
wrote letters home and I told her that I didn't
have no chance, and she said that she had a daugh
ter in law and a granddaughter that wrote her
beautiful letters out of the country and she desired
to be thinkful, I want to See you Edward but I am
aU the time a saUing to and fro — Hercules my

THE GOLIATH TITTLE LETTERS 55
brother says he should Uke to see you — hes grown
tremendous tall and big and expects to go a lum
bering next winter. I give him a pau- of boots that
I bout of a Dutchman when I saUed in the Zwei
Brudern which was a Lubec ship that I met with
in the Pessifick
The other day I met Lok Strom a Norweggan
that I used to know to Valparaso when we put in
in the Billowbreaker in distress which was the
most onlucky ship I ever see afterward lost on
Joggle reef crew saved — He and I think of taking
a Chebacco bout and trading along shore — Ive
got a little money in the Kennebunk Savings Bank
and he is very forehanded I guess hes got as much
as two hundred doUars and ever so many clothes —
Give my kind regards to all your folks
Yours truly G. T.

Ax SEA {about Sept. 27, 1855).
Off Glosishter
1210 Sea Time
My dear Ned,
I tell you I was pleggy sorry not to hev writ you
a letter last week. Me and my pardner that I told
you of has been doing a real good bisiness; we got a
real good hand to go before the mast. BiU Butters;
he was bom down to Quoddy the yeer of the great
gale, and says hes always been fond of hard weather
from his cradle; — started on the Penobscot in his

56 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
mothers bread trough at eight years old and got
wracked and nigh drownded; then agin when he
was fourteen he started to go to the West Indys in
a dory thinking it was much nigher than what it is
and he got putty nigh starved that time and was
picked up by the Dromedary and carried to Hong
Kong and round the world, and after that went to
sea reglar for a living, and he got a lick on his hand
of a block his last vyage that give him a weeping
sinner, and he wants to heal it up and so he goes
with us which gives him a better chance and works
fust rate with a pitch plaster on the back of his left
hand So Im Cap tin and my pardner he's mate and
BiU Butters he's the crew, and we make the che-
baccer boat go I teU you Ned Holmes. Well, weve
been doing a real good business along shore — I
bought a lot of taters down at Machias and we
made seventy two doUars on em at Porchmith
Then I bought a lot of jugs in Salem — cheap two
tons of em and run round the cape for Rode Hand
just before the Maine law got agoing there and we
made eighty-four dollars on the jugs, and I carried
4 tun of onions from Boston down to Machias
where they was verry skerse and made one hun
derd dollars on them — So you see Ned Im doing
real well and we think we may get a skooner some
of these days and take Hercules for a cabin boy
I heerd the other day that your father was a
coming home today and I am real glad for it must
be drefful a going so fur away from home on land

THE GOLIATH TITTLE LETTERS 57
Since I writ to you Ive been in Boston agm and I
got lost and there wasn't' nobody that would teU
me the way right so I kept working to windward,
up a street and then a little way along (for the
streets dont run into one another as they do at
Pekin and Canton and Calcutty and other places)
and I was putty sure of coming to the water be-
cos the wind was right out East — but I suppose
the wind had veered for I finally worked down
to Cambridge Bridge — so I steered right out to
Cambridge and went to see your grandmother and
she is fust rate and give me a piece of cake and a
Uttle cardboard so as to go free in the ommibuss
which is along fore and aft sort of a coach, now
you see ff I had a been at sea why I could just a
looked at the compass and could a see in a minnit
what the way was that I wanted for to go.
Wednesday morning Glosishter Harbor. — I am
considabel at lesshure this morning becos we cant
get up to the wharf tUl the tide turns. I do hope
your father has got home I see hun once when he
come down on board the ship Tightus Andromi-
cus a laying at Centerl Wharf and perhaps he'll
recoUect me — BiU Butters reads his Bible every
Sunday in the forenoon watch on deck weather per-
mittmg, and always pinting along the verses with
a sail needle which in case aU hands is caUed he
lays in the leaves and makes fast, the book with
a little rope yarn thats wove through the cover —

58 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
He's got picters of whales in the fust and last
leaves that he helped take aboard the Nathaniel
Folger and other ships also little memorandy, writ
in signs and picters of places that he stopped at
and wracks that hes been through, and you can see
the marks of the salt-water on the kivers of the
book, Hes got a good many funny ways with him
leastwise what youd think funny alwers brings up
an old quadrant a Sundays and takes an observa
tion or pretends to tho there aint but one glass in
it and dont love to be joked about it and pretends
not to understand. He is dredful proud of his sea
clothes of which he's got a sight — But the tides
turned and I must conclude with love to you all
and perticuler respect to your pa and mar
Yours truly Goliath T,
Ive got a pair of sharkskin boots that we took
from Shakarak one of the cheefs of the Goby men
which used to come to fight with us at the Fogaroo
islands that I should like to give you but they are
a sight too big for you — they are dredful warm
things becos they are lined with Fogaroo scalps
with the fur out and their hair is dredful thick
and furry. There was a man come aboard at Bos
ton and asked me for em for the peace Societys
museum but I thot he might be one of Barnums
men tho he moutent either and wouldnt let him
have em and he begged putty hard and Bill Butters

SETTLING DOWN 59
he was a slushing the mast and he let his slush pot
fall accidently right on the manshead so that he
had to go right home to get cleaned up — BiU
wants the boots I guess but dont hke to ask for em.
If your par wants the boots you teU him to drop a
line to Captin Jake Souther at Glosshter and hell
let me know and IU send em round by sea so as they
can go up the Kenneticut by boat, and then you
can get em with a little land kerrige.

With no fixed occupation, John Holmes joyfully
gave his services to good works. One of these is
mentioned by Charles Eliot Norton. "I think it
was between '46 and '49," he says . . . "that I got
permission from the city government of Cambridge
to use the schoolhouse, then standing in Garden
Street, for a night school for men and boys. It was
the first night school opened in Cambridge, and,
as far as I know, the first of the kind in Massachu
setts, I had many excellent volunteer assistants,
among them John Holmes (the brother of the
poet), ChUd, and Sidney CooUdge, a fellow of
heroic quality (devoted to the memory of Napo
leon), and who, years after, at the beginning of the
Civil War, obtained a commission from the United
States and shortly after died in battle, as he would
have wished." ^
> Letters of Charles Eliot Norton : edited by Sara Norton and
M. A. DeWolfe Howe, Boston, 1913; vol. i, pp. 26, 27,

60 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Lowell came back from Europe in the summer
of 1856, and began teaching at Harvard, With his
return the Whist Club revived, much to the satis
faction of Holmes, They stimulated each other in
fun. In a letter to Miss Norton, dated August 12,
1861, Lowell tells of a froUc which he arranged in
honor of his humorous friend.
"Two unportant events have taken place lately,
which I shall mention in the order of their respec
tive greatness, 1st, The Agricultural Festival; 2d,
The election of Mayor, And now of the Cerealia.
(Don't confound this with Serialia and suppose I
have taken up the Atlantic again,) You must know
that Cambridge boasts of two distinguished farm
ers — Mr. John Holmes of Holmes Place, and him
who would be, in a properly constituted order of
things, the Marquess of Thompson Lot with a p.
The marquess, fearing that (since Squire Holmes
cultivated his own estate with his own hands and a
camp-stool) his rival might be in want of food and
too proud to confess it, generously resolved to give
him a dinner, which, to save his feelings, he adroitly
veiled under the pretence of an Agricultural Festi
val and Show of Vegetables. Dr. Howe and Mr.
Storey were the other guests, ' when ' (as the Annual
Register would say) 'the following vegetables were
served up with every refinement of the culinary
art.' 1, Eggplants; 2, Squash; 3, Beets; 4, Carrots;
5, Potatoes; 6, Tomatoes; 7, Turnips; 8, Beans:

SETTLING DOWN 61
9, Com; 10, Cucumbers; (and not exhibited, partly
out of modesty and partly for want of suitable
dishes, but aUuded to modestly from tune to time)
11, Cabbages; 12, Salsify. Of fmits there was a
variety, also from the estate, consisting chiefly of
1, Raspberries, and 2, Blackberries. Cider, also
from the estate, was kept back out of tenderness
to the guests, and because there was home-made
vinegar in the casters. 'After the cloth was re
moved,' the 'chairman rose, and with suitable so
lemnity gave the first regular toast" — 'Speed the
Plough.' This was acknowledged by Mr. Holmes
in a neat speech. He said that 'he felt himself com
pletely squashed by the abundance before him.
That, as there was nothing wanting, so nothing
could be marked with a caret a • That Micawber
himself would have been pleased with the turnups,
than which who nose anything more charmingly
retrousse? That he could say with the great Julius,
Veni, vidi, vici, I came, and saw a beet. That he
could but stammer his astonishment at a board so
cu-cumbered with delicacies. That he envied the
potatoes their eyes to look on such treasures. That
the Tom-martyrs were worthy the best ages of the
Church, and fit successors of St. Thomas. That
with such corn who would not be a toemartyr?
That he hoped no one would criticise his remarks
in a punkintilious spirit,' This, as you wiU imag
ine, is quite an adequate report of the remarks
he nught have made. The dinner went off with

62 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
great good humor and we had cards in the even
ing, . . . "Your affectionate
"Thompson Lot" '
Old jokes, old puns have a way of losing their
savor, and to appreciate fuUy Holmes's speech we
must remember the occasion, the state of merri
ment to which he and Lowell had raised the little
party of friends, and the swiftness with which, on
the spur of the moment, he paid his respects to
the vegetables. In devising an agricultural dinner,
Lowell, the Marquess of Thompson's Lot, displayed
his own talent for fun.
The time itself bred anxiety, if not gloom, in
most hearts. The disaster of BuU Run, occurring
only a month earlier, filled every loyal Unionist
with forebodings, Lowell's patriotism was known
throughout the land; Holmes in his quiet way was
no less convinced a patriot.
Only a week later he suffered the greatest pos
sible loss in the death of his mother. Dr. 0. W,
Holmes writes to Motley on August 29: "My
mother died on the 19th of this month at the age of
ninety-three, keeping her lively sensibiUties and
sweet intelligence to the last. My brother John
had long cared for her in the most tender way, and
it almost broke his heart to part with her. She was
a daughter to him, she said, and he had fondly
I C. E. Norton: Letters of J. B. LoweU; vol. i, pp. 312-14.

SETTLING DOWN 63
thought that love and care could keep her fraU life
to the filling up of a century or beyond it. It was
a pity to look on him in his first grief; but Time,
the great consoler, is busy with his anodyne, and
he is coming back to himself," ^
John lived on in the old house for a little while,
and then the brothers sold it to Harvard College
for a price which they thought too good to be re
fused. Then he moved over to the small wooden
dweUing at No. 5 Appian Way, which an old fam
ily servant, Mary Tolman, bought with her sav
ings. There she acted as his housekeeper, tending
him as carefuUy as she knew how for the rest of his
life,
1 J. T. Morse, Jr.: Oliver WendeU Holmes (1896); vol. ii, pp.164-65.

CHAPTER III
"A RIGHT local MAN"
John Bartlett had now become, after Lowell,
Holmes's most intimate friend in Cambridge, and
as time went on, and LoweU spent many years
abroad, Holmes saw more and more of him. The
latter combined the ability of a successful merchant
with the taste of a literary man. In order to pre
pare his "Familiar Quotations" he read the classics
of ancient and modern Uterature; he spent most of
his leisure during the last third of his working Ufe
on Shakespeare; and he had a retentive memory.
Towards the end of 1862 he went South, as a vol
unteer paymaster in the United States Navy.
The next letters, unusually playful, refer to his
service there.
To John Bartlett*
Cambridge, December 8, 1862.
Toward evening.
My dear j. B.,
After my pleasant dinner on board the Bibb, I
proceeded to Cambridge, as a desolate fragment of
the once glorious Association in favor of the Union
of which you were another member. I did not call
at your house until the next evening, thinking the
* This letter is in very bad condition, and a small piece of it is
missing.

TO JOHN BARTLETT 65
delay would be acceptable. As I passed over the
Common on my way to your house I called a meet
ing at the centre and called your name; there be
ing no reply I answered in a loud tone, "Absent,"
and mournfully adjourned for want of a quorum.
I hope you wUl recognise in this the old patriotism
and the old regard unbroken by separation, I hope
also that in the strict adherence to form you will
perceive evidence of that love of order, indeed of
discipline, which has heretofore distinguished the
Association and at times has led it to assume an
almost miUtary character, (Note: Do we not both
recollect J. B, in his inimitable personation of the
weU drilled recruit?) Happily for me, since you
went I have been obliged to travel to Boston and
back, if anything, more frequently than before, and
to attend to items of business [which], with my
business talents and habits, appear to me to be
numerous and laborious. With these to employ
me, and a great deal of walking, and some little
change in my social habits to meet the exigency,
I have got along rather better than might have
been expected; I have however had to train myself
somewhat, perforce, to solitude. I have thus far
told you about myself. I wiU now teU you about
you. Mrs. Bartlett on Saturday evening last read
to me in full fanuly conclave, a part of your letter
from Port Royal — when she came to the senti
mental and conjugal part, she stopped a second,
and nunbly skipped it all, so that I have no chance

66 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
to know whether you write with the proper degree
of tenderness or not; perhaps, as the other mem
ber of the Association, I ought to have had the
whole letter submitted to my notice, that I might
write you words of approval, encouragement or re
proof — but we won't be too strict, and the fam
ily were all present. It was an excellent letter, so
much of it as I heard, and worthy the author of
the Quotations, And so the Paymaster was a Uttle
sick — did n't | ^j^-q.^ ^^ \ his waistcoat buttons
or jerk the gold band off his cap, I hope. But I am
afraid that under a playful turn of phrase you con
ceal the extent of your suffering, not from laudable
[regard] of humanity to your friends but from a
misplaced pride. I shall therefore present you with
a probable Deposition of the Steward as supposed
to be taken at Port Royal,
Qu. 1. Was Mr. Bartlett Ans. 1. Yes sir, he were.
sick on the passage
to Port Royal?
2. At what time did he 2. When we was along-
first show signs of side the Fort, Sir,
seasickness?
3. What Fort? 3. Fort Independence,
Sir.
4, What made you 4. Coz he looked white,
think him sick at Sir, and said the su-
that time? gar he took in his
coffee that morning
didn't agree with him
and said he felt first
rate all but that.

TO JOHN BARTLETT 67
Qu. 5. Where was he when Ans. 5, Down below. Sir,
he said this?
6. Why should you 6, Coz they all says so,
think him seasick Sir, and looks kind
when he said he was er white Sir, and I al
so well? ways gets my (sivat)
ready then. Sir.
7, Where did you see 7, Leanin over the rail,
him next? Sir, heavin like any
thing.
8. When did you first 8. After we was come
see him on deck after to anchor. Sir, at
this? Port Royal.

What do you think of that as a specimen of what
would be brought out by close examination? If
you had said candidly, "I was as sick as a dog all
the way to Port Royal," you would have saved me
the trouble of taking this deposition.
I enjoyed your meeting with Capt. Conthoys,
at the Naval Constructor's -^ he verified all that
you had said of his vivacity, and I think made
your account pale a little before the actual fact.
He is a very agreeable man too, as you said. In my
quiet mode of Ufe I have not so much to tell you as
I could wish, even respecting our famUiar Old Cam
bridge. One thing I can say about it, that I never
knew it in so profound a state of tranquiUity, not
to say stupor, in my Ufe, at any rate since it was
the Uttle hamlet of former times. None of the
accustomed sounds are heard at night — the vocif
erations of young men coming down jolly from

68 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Porter's or going up jolly from the oyster shops —
no firebell, for the incendiaries have gone to extin
guish the flames of civil war — no dogs, because
they have nobody and nothing to bark at, and the
roosters ceasing to hear, the dogs have stopped
crowing. About 9|. Since writing the above I have been
over to your house, I found Mrs, B,, Mrs. Dana
and Miss Dana, all I think at work for the sol
diers, Capt, Goodwin bye-and-bye came down, and
very shortly after Mrs, Folsom and Miss Charlotte
McKean came in, I had a pleasant caU of it till
about 9, when I departed as escort to Mrs, F.
and her sister, whom I saw safely home, I went
over to your house to ask about my letter, which
it seems I commit to the Boston Office tomorrow.
I have thus given you a slight sketch of my eve
ning. I ought however to have mentioned that be
fore I went to your house I purchased a Journal at
the estabUshment, paying 3 ! cents for the same —
see the extortion which has grown since you left.
You must write me your personal experience and
sensations as I have written mine. Tell me too
whether gingerbread, which I advised so strongly,
has been a balm to your afflicted stomach. Tell me
your joys and your woes and I will answer to the
best of my abUity in the name of the Association.
Tell me inter alia how you succeed as caterer, and
whether you find considerable leisure on board the
Bibb — how the pipe works in a Southern climate.

TO JOHN BARTLETT 69
Also, as writing to the Association, tell me how
things look to you down there — and any good ex
pectations you have about this war so far as con
sistent with the profound secrecy which has been
observed about our movements,
I wish you aU sorts of a pleasant time down
there. Give my regards to Capt, Boutelle. As I left the
house tonight Mrs. Bartlett desired me to send
her love to you, which I hereby do and expect a
receipt by your next.
Hoping to see you in a few months in first rate
condition I am truly your friend
P.S, You must make the best of this letter that
you can; when you write me I shall be able to
reply to any enquiry or to any train of thought you
may suggest. At present I write what I can at
random. Good night. Yrs truly
To John Bartlett
Cambridge, January 21, 1863.
My dear j. B,, —
It is high tune that you should hear from your
old friend and feUow soldier, J. H. You would have
had a letter from me much earUer but for the con
tinuance of what I denominate business, which has
kept me what I call busy. About a month ago.

70 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
in the height of this so-called activity, I twisted the
veteran knee a little with the slippery walking and
forthwith limped in a style I never had before —
not with the accustomed infirmity, but a strain
where the knee-pan is fastened on — on the side —
I forthwith began to fear the return of the old
affliction — was obhged to stay quiet a good deal
— then as usual my eyes got overworked and I
seemed quite in the doleful condition of former
times — not giving up walking but able to do Uttle
of it. However, the evil has passed away and I can
go a mUe or two at a time very well, and I must
say feel in better spirits to write a letter to a friend
than I did before. So you see I have begun as usual
with a full exposition of my bodily state and am
now ready to begin with narrative, argument or
exhortation as the case may require.
And, firstly, let me acknowledge the receipt of
your very agreeable letter, also of your very cap
ital New Year's Gift, and thank you for both, I
have neither given nor taken much this New Year,
I made a few presents of trifles to children and no
other — I received De TocquevUle from you first,
and a nice pipe from Charles Parson's wife, second,
and am content — nay, thankful; without calcu
lation you see, I have made a gain; this is the rela
tive and financial view which you and I as phUoso
phers and speculatists will admit argumentatively;
but really I have received two tokens from two
valued friends and am richer by a value that cannot

TO JOHN BARTLETT 71
be defined under the head of $ and cts. My habits
have been a good deal changed, as I expected, by
your departure. No more free-and-easy bachelor
comings and goings. When I call now I cast anchor
and accept nothing less than a yawn or positive
lethargy as a signal to weigh. My evening walks
are no longer the circuitous vague ramblings of the
past, argumentative, conversational, land-measur
ing, fumigatory — but hasty, sUent, the shortest
Une between two points. This came across me the
other night in a lively manner, when I deviated for
exercise from my direct path and found myself
under the college lamp opposite Stoughton. A
certain mUitary discipUne, whose force you and I
know, held me up and I plodded sternly on. I
sometunes look back with admiration to you in
your attitude of highest military training, which
you remember you occasionally assumed (say in
entering a door or scaling a fUght of stairs). Noth
ing, I venture to say, in the annals of mUitary art
ever surpassed that.
I have been in to about half of Charles Norton's
Lowell lectures ^ (historical), which ended about a
fortnight since, quite a novelty for me, and a very
pleasant one. I went to Salem at Thanksgiving and
dined at the Fosters' on Christmas. Club has gone
on with its usual regularity and is mine this week
on Friday, During Norton's lectures, which Lowell
attended, we had Club on Wednesdays.
1 On "Characteristics of the 12th Century."

72 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
I caUed at your house last night and found aU
well. Mrs. Bartlett propounded to me the proba
biUty of the safe arrival of her mince pies and after
mature deliberation I decided in favor thereof. May
my self-esteem and your palate be gratified by the
result. About a week since I called at your house and
Mrs. B. told me that letters had arrived from the
Bibb, and that she had none, and you have no idea
how your little wife was let down from her usually
buoyant temperament. If you wish me to enjoy
my caUs you must write punctually. Not that
there was an omission in this case — the letter, I
have found, came to hand the next morning. In
fact, the next evening I was at the Howes' and
mentioned the disappointment. They said that
they had seen Mrs. B. going along reading a letter,
and guessed that she had heard from you, and she
told me last evening that that was the case. I be
lieve I shall tell her that in case of non-reception of
letters from you I wish she would get Mr. Goodwin
to make a bowline or a Matthew Walker's knot on
the handle of the door, so that I may be aware of
the fact.
I went to a private dinner given Gen. Butler last
Thursday night at the Parker House — private
so-called — in distinction from the regular public
dinner, and not reported in the papers. There were
120 people and the affair went off well. The Gen'l,
wore a black coat and made himself agreeable —

TO JOHN BARTLETT 73
spoke about 15 minutes, or say 30, with great ap
plause. I as a miUtary man took great interest in
the proceedings.
Henry Ware works at the State House now, has
grown fat — and is seen but little by his friends so
far as I hear — enjoys himself at home I suppose
Uke a sensible man. Carter I am told is keeping
school at Eagle's Wood, N.J.
Thursday aft^. Thus far I had got yesterday
when I was obliged to go to Boston, where I dined
with Wendell, who highly appreciated your present
which I mentioned to him. What! that splendid
edition, said he — I affirmed and told hun that the
publisher dejure was our paymaster; the same by
the way who, having revised a new edition of the
Bibb at the Navy Yard, has pubUshed it at Port
Royal, I have got two more letters to write, so must
close this with despatch. When you write again
tell me aU about yourself, — whether you have
stood sea life weU and feel at home as a Bibber,
Whether you have had any rnore stomachic j^mo-
tions (no, I wUl cross out the e) when the bUlows
have rolled you about, — Whether you have
"hove up" anything beside the anchor — how your
baccy holds out, and various such items which
wUl give me a notion of your average domestic
Iffe a Bibboard, I have not sent any newspapers —
if you would like them write me word; or any-
thmg else. I have been your MUitary Inspector

74 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
at home — I intend to be your Naval Inspector
abroad; you will therefore report to me all impor
tant circumstances in your naval career — and all
trivialities which will keep me acquainted with
your condition. If ever you take a glass of grog on
a bowline you may report it. But if you take one
with a Matthew Walker's knot in it (which implies
extra hair on) you must on no account faU to tell
me the occasion and the effects physical and moral.
Tell me when you get your most cheering pipes and
whether you do not recur occasionally to our night
sessions and arguments. If I don't hear from you
soon I shaU hold a meeting on the Common, report
you absent without leave — and order you to be
executed five minutes after landing in this precinct.
It is a cloudy day with an inch or so of snow on the
ground and Buddy lies in the old armchair by the
window — half awake, half asleep cogitating why
you don't call in, I walked out of town yesterday
— but took no circuit in the evening as of the olden
time. If you wish me to write more information about
the old town, propound me questions to any amount
and I wUl answer.
N.B. This is the end of my letter. I can't write
you a very various letter, having — as when you
were here — been in a very small circle of action
and vision. I can only stir you up with a few sug
gestions from home. Mary seeing me writing ex
pressed a desire to be remembered to you. I shall

TO J. R. LOWELL 75
not wait so long next time to write. Remember me
to Capt. Boutelle. Yours affectionately.
No other of John Holmes's war-time letters
have been found; nor was it to be expected; for
whUe he felt strongly the national ordeal and the
distresses which it caused to multitudes of private
persons, he was not Ukely to write formally upon
it. He never wrote formally on any topic, but let
whim suggest and fancy elaborate the substance
of his correspondence. To J. R. Lowell May 28, 1863.
Either come down at 8.30 and be beaten into
bench-holes, or appear on the ground at the latest
by 9J tomorrow morning.
I had an expedition to mention to you, "most
secret, most unportant," of a peremptory character,
admitting no delay ff assented to on your part.
No man who had not hunted a low at 2.40 could
be admitted to confidence. I forgot to teU you when
you were here.
Come with punctuaUty as requested, either now
when you receive this, the sun barely low, or by
the jack-a-lantems that light the marsh, or, making
game of dffficulties, come when Phoebus is but an
hour high — you shaU find me with my crutch at
the charge.

76 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Come in high lows.
Now from a new plane of thought as the modern
phrase is — If you don't wish to play, stroll down
for a contemplative walk. But observe there is an
expedition possibly, and after 10 or so it would be
too late.
The next letter contains an early reference to
John Holmes's lameness, due to some trouble of
his knee from which he never recovered. At the
worst he could not walk at aU; but he often enjoyed
months of comparative freedom from pain when he
limped about with considerable ease.
To J. R. Lowell May 3, 1867.
I can't possibly have Club tonight, or would;
mean to have it next week. I was glad to see you
all alive and walking and not looking at all Apo^lnKaX
(dropsical).
To J. R. Lowell
Seest thou these little dots
Which a naughty world calls blots?
Each is only liquid thought —
Dribbling where (it had not ought).*
Waller writing to Peter Clement.
* Is n't this rather strange diction?
Cambridge, W, June 9, 1869.
I have been thinking of a letter to you ever since
you departed. Last evening at friend Gurney's,i
' Ephraim W. Giu-ney, Harvard A. B. 1852; Professor of History.

TO J, R, LOWELL 77
I learned that you were coming home on Saturday.
I write therefore with a degree of trepidation lest
you should tum your back on my letter, leaving it
to pine in an Ithaca P.O. box. It is as generous
and as reckless for me to write you now, as it would
have been for the prodigal son to have offered to
treat the village on his return. It occurs to me,
however, that he might have done it if he could
have obtained credit, the chances of which are
matter of opinion. Such credit as he in tatters,
with a remainder husk sticking out of his pocket,
would have needed with the publican, I need and
demand from you, for Lo, I am poor in thought,
and husky with drouth, having brought myself to
a minimum of the rosy. I only write this to signify
my sense of your absence, and my desire for your re
turn, which is warm and lively. Yea, verily, I shall
welcome you with fervor to our native bounds.
All is quiet here : loads of brick going to Boston
and of manure coming from Boston indicate a solid
prosperity and incidentally make our bad roads
worse. Club is a word unknown. The Doctor is a
little lost I think without it — not quite himself —
Tracy is cheerfully resigned. I am stolidly tran
quU, Frank Chapman's vehiculary was set on fire at
about 1, Sunday mornmg, May 30. When I got
there one steamer was playing upon a formidable
mass of flame: it was some time before another
came — there were three in all, I think — and they

78 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
had the fire under in about an hour. There were no
hand-engines, and in consequence there was no
beUowing and counter-bellowing. It was curious to
see the quiet of the whole proceeding. There was
the fire serpent doing his best — drawing in a coil
under the attack and roUing himself up as if done
for, and then shooting out a tongue of flame in some
new spot — then the engines going click, click,
click, and that was all their noise — then there was
the audience or the spectance, which in the absence
of the usual fire clamor was perfectly quiet —
young men and maidens looking on as if at a show,
and I think a man of moderate voice might have
spoken a discourse so that all would have heard
him. Such a scene is rather distant from the "Lane,"
and the "friendly" firebuckets that you and I
remember. I read your lines on the bell last evening and
highly approve them. . . .
Hoping that this testimonial of friendship may
reach you in season, I am Your loving friend.
To J, R. Lowell January 26, 1870.
I am pleased with your rhythmic note, and
wiU march up on Thursday rhythmically to the
Quickstep, as composed by J. R. L, and arranged
by J. H.

TO J. R. LOWELL 79
( note extra con
Staccato con ebullitione { espressione

f |t f~\\ r -DaCqpoJJ

More,More, Eal - ti More Ball - ti-mooore ore
If I come so soon again it can't help being as a
sort of transient boarder. One or two more such
friends as you and friend Gurney, and I should be
at free quarters, I will come with a great deal of
pleasure and I thank you for the invitation.
Yours affectionately.
To j. R. Lowell
Cambridge, March 3, 1870.
I am right glad to hear of your return from dis
tant lands. I should be pleased to present you with
the freedom of the city in a gold box, but you know
how scarce gold is. I therefore present you with
the freedom without the box.
To my surprise I met the Doctor last night and
had the presence of mind to give him notice of Club
Friday night chez moi.
I give you the same. Hereof faU not, etc.
I shaU take it for granted that Mrs, Lowell has
returned improved by her journey and, this being
estabUshed, please present her with my congratu
lations thereupon. I am sorry to have missed you.
The correspondent to whom the next letter is
addressed. Dr. Charles Eliot Ware, was a college

80 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
companion of Holmes, who practised medicine in
Boston, and had for a summer place a large farm
at West Rindge, New Hampshire, There he enter
tained many companions, most welcome among
whom was John Holmes, These two men grew
closer together as they advanced toward old age,
and a third, Waldo Higginson, usually joined them.
As they sat on the piazza of the old farmhouse and
looked at Monadnock in front of them, there was
talk which, had it been preserved in the phono
graph, would have delighted readers today.
To Dr. Charles Eliot Ware
Cambridge, August 16, 1871.
My dear Charles, —
Your letter arrived just after I had gone away
from my new quarters in the Appian Way on
an expedition to Plymouth, where I stayed untU
Thursday, August 11, I went on this trip the
morning after the first night I spent in my new
quarters, and I think it served a good purpose to
make the change of abode easier. I am very glad
to hear from you and I want to see you. If I medi
tate any formal invasion of your premises I shall
give you due notice as you suggest, but with the
railroad so near you I shall not be afraid to mn up
on my own account and risk.
At present I find myself constrained by forty
different circumstances from attempting to visit
you. I found it far more of a task, in its material

TO DR, CHARLES ELIOT WARE 81
difficulties, than I thought, to change my quarters,
I had to look over piles and piles of rubbish, some
going back to the year 1715 or thereabout. The
business papers and account books of my great
grandfather had been kept in the attic one hundred
and fifty-six years, to give his great-grandson what
between us might be called a sweat (and a very
copious one), I found commercial letters referring
to Prince Charles Edward's invasion, and such
letters as contained any historical allusions I saved,
and burned the residue, something under forty
bushels. What with reading, selecting, burning,
packing and the general sense of dislocation attend
ing removal, I could have sat for a portrait of John
Calvin, so far as sternness or severity was de
manded. This severe look I acquired in burning
the masses of paper against which I had conceived
a certain rage for the trouble they had put me to,
I hope I had not got so bad as to regret that they
could not yell a little, I do not think I had, Cam
bridge is in the most furious stage of improvement
heretofore known. They build, they remove build
ings, they add and subtract parts, and at last have
come to disembowelling large structures of recent
erection with a fury like that of the Bacchanals,
that they may have the luxury of replacing the
viscera. The Scientific School Building and a very
large schoolhouse on Brattle Street are being sub
jected to this process. Only a few of the tme old
Cambridge stock retain their equanimity during

82 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
the tumult. And ours is the calmness of despair.
Old Cambridge is almost gone and the New has
taken its place.
We have to faU back on the simple memories of
what are our old times, and in such quiet precincts
gather ourselves to resist the uproar of the present
day. Excuse my prosing. Yours affectionately.
The episode, slight but characteristic, of which
John S. Dwight writes in the following letter to
George WiUiam Curtis belongs to this period,
"The evening before your letter came I spent in
Cambridge with my dear friend John Holmes, who
has been laid up lame, but is getting better, I must
tell you of a Uttle thing he related to me, as show
ing the delicacy of his character. I chanced to say
that, driven to the last extremity, unable to write
or read or think, I had taken up 'Pickwick Papers'
again. Said he, 'I never met Dickens but once:
that was at James Lowell's. Mention was made
of some little-known book of Walter Scott, and
Dickens said to me: "You ought to have that.
When I get home, I wiU send it to you."' John
said, 'I replied: "Oh, no, my dear sir, I cannot
allow that. If you make such a promise, it will
bother you more than it is worth,"' or something
like that."i
, * G. W. Cooke: John SuUivan Dmght, p. 287. Boston, 1898.

TO J. R. LOWELL 83
To J. R. Lowell
[1870?],
Ml Care Jacobe, —
Puta quomodo sentibam Friday postremo, cum
inveniebam quod Doctor non erat eundus ad Fus
tem, Supponebam ut Doctor appeUant pro me
nuntiare ad te causam meae absentrae; sed con-
trario modo Johannes, Celtus, ad portam venit
cum epistola, dequa inveni ut Doctor capitis
malum habebat et moratatur ad domum invito.
Misi Johannem cum epistola ad Traceium et
exitum totae rei nescio; sive Traceius solus ad
Fustem ibat; sive Fustem habebas, sive dolore et
ira Fuste amisso pendisti te ad trabem, causa non
apparente defectionis, sic ut nunc apparet, si vivis
et non suspensus finsti.
Tibi profiteor quod sentio male in praenussis
(ut dicunt jurisperiti).
Ayxv^ov nuper tortum (id est in '63) retorsi
quantulum et post quiddam experimentum timeo
ambulare, ne sim tanto majus retentus domi.
Invenio quod tu habebas fustem post me, —
tunc Doctor, tunc Traceius; sic mihi occurrebat
Fustem habere quum Doctor ilium habebat; erro-
rem confiteor. Hoc Friday non possum Fustem
habere possibUiter — proximo, spero habere (nee
"possum" ludo, hoc dicendo).
Spero ayxv^ov usuni cito recuperare et tunc
apparere bonus Fustor.

84 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Interea dico, "Fustis; et nunquam Bunkeret
desuper," Cum multa amicitia Tuus J, H,
I make no attempt to inject grammatical or other
correctness into this letter and the following.
To J. R. Lowell
Die quam appellato inter
Romanos, nescio; inter nos,
Thursday, November 30 [1870?].
Care Jacobus, —
Ut cogitatum me transportare ad tuum domum
ayKuXos recalcitravit et crutch revocavit, Tristis-
simus me sedebam prope foculum meum appella-
tum populariter evyive Hodie ayKuXos melior ego
jucundior, Fidissime confido te videre "Fusti"
eras vespera, Paupertatem ingenii obscuro sub
Xatimtate monstrosissima. Si praevideram hanc
novissimam clauditatem citior Scripsissem Pos
tremo "Fuste" Stetimus quatuor ad quatuor, et si
tempus suffecerat Traceius et ego stragem veram
feceramus. Appellas id "Contundi in cavos plau-
stir"? Shaksp, quod tu futihter voluisti, epistola
postrema, Gutturem tuum nunc robustum vali-
dum, amplum-ins-issimum spero esse.
Moderate tristis Vester J. H.

TO J. R, LOWELL 85
To j. R. Lowell Cambridge,
Monday evening [no date] [1870?].
My dear James Lowell, —
I want to have Club on Wednesday evening (the
Doctor can't come on Thursday), Please arrange if
possible for it.
We expect to have the noted pedestrian. Carter,
on that occasion. He has just won his great match
against tune — two miles and a half in twenty-
four hours. He is getting on well, and there is little
doubt of his being able to come. All we fear now is
colic, and he will not take the only specific —
brandy, but I hope he won't have it.
To J, R, Lowell
Wednesday, December 3 [no date].
Can you do me the kindness to come over here
for a little while this evening. There is a very
pretty moon now, — so the almanac says, and the
weather is to the eye of the philosopher inviting.
You and I are happily elevated above those vulgar
prejudices which lead some to asperse the harmony
of the elements called weather.
There is a delicious howl at this moment that
makes me ache to get out; but what can a man do,
with any number of lame legs?
By the way, if you should see a cord of good
crutch-wood, please purchase it for me, and if you

86 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
should want a Uttle liniment, or opodeldoc or bay
rum, (which does n't put people over the bay) or a
crutch to go a-pleasuring with, or a genteel but
serviceable cane, or any such nicknack, why you
know where to come,
I'm sure I hope you'U never be lame, unless
with a well-earned, and transient gout, I should
not like to see you reduced to the low speed of J of a
mile an hour, which we caU good.
To J. R, Lowell
Thursday 12 a.m. [1872?].
I thank you much for the volume of Essays'
which I found when I returned from Salem.
This condensed body of criticism and biog
raphy (which latter is antechamber to History) is
vastly more valuable to me than the parts of it
scattered here and there, and I read it with much
greater pleasure. The miser's stocking stuffed with
zechins, moidores, joes, or whatever savory time-
flavored coin you please, is what he hugs to his
heart and puts under his pillow. His bills and bonds
are collectible but this is collected . 1 1 is the difference
between many children abroad and one at home —
that one he can hug or flog at pleasure, the others
he must wait for. The miser, I must say now I
think of him as a poet and a martyr. He lives for
the ideal and if necessary wiU die the slowest hard
est death for it.
* Probably Lowell's My Study Windows, published in 1872.

TO J. R. LOWELL 87
His sublime self-sacrifice for the abstract princi
ple, represented maybe by the fraction of a cent,
wants nothing but another base to ennoble hun.
His fortitude and energy are as good as another's,
his motive power we regretfully condemn at base.
The miser is almost the only exceptionable char
acter that wants a coat of whitewash now. (You
have read the Memoir of Barabbas in which he is
shown to have been a coUector of taxes and Sunday
School teacher of the most benevolent disposition,
accused and imprisoned for his fidelity in office,
by malignant taxpayers. I don't blame the tax
payers myseff.)
Let us suppose that the miser has with infinite
pains and privations drawn together his little pile
of coins, may he not possibly feel toward them as if
they were his children? He keeps the social group
together and at home through pangs of hunger and
cold which he endures for their dear sakes. If he
prudently lends the services of his famUy for a sea
son to others, it is only for their interest, as other
fathers of family do.
He robs no man, he only keeps his own. To the
poor and suffering he administers instead of a par
tial relief, a comprehensive remedy.
He says, ' ' Bear privations as I do ! Put such waifs
of old iron and the Uke as you can collect, into a bag
— add to it constantly on principle, and you are as
comfortable as I am." And if there are no children
short of food and raiment he speaks the truth.

88 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
The future advocate of the miser will say: Do
you admire the speed, strength and energy of a
man any the less because he is running in the
wrong direction, etc, etc, and then the physiolo
gists will find out some new twist about the
mechanical action in some folks' constitutions, on
motives, and the Miser wiU be rehabiUtated and
we shaU have a statue to Remember Preston, and
everything will be very comfortable and friendly,
I foresee a time when a statue wiU be erected to
the man who refused with ferocity to enter the list
of competitive contributors to some public or pri
vate object and slew the agent,
I hope that I foresee a time when men having
explored all the passages that lead to nothing, and
having sufficiently tried to Uft themselves by their
waistbands, and to walk on their heads, wiU find
some plain truths, enough to live and die by,
AppUcation, I admire and very highly value
your book and enjoy it most enjoyably. And am
Yours affectionately, J. H

CHAPTER IV
a trip to EUROPE, 1872-73
In the summer of 1872 John Holmes started on
a trip to Europe, What prompted him to under
take this long journey in spite of his lameness and
his love of routine does not appear. He was sixty
years old, and, although he lived in solitary quar
ters in Appian Way, he was always within easy
reach of friends; but in Europe he could count only
on chance acquaintances to relieve his loneliness.
He planned, however, to join the Lowells and the
Henry Wares, who were abroad at that time. In
deed Lowell and he crossed on the same steamer.
To John Bartlett London, July 24, 1872.
Tavistock Hotel.
I met a finback whale going home to Massachusetts
Bay. I thought he looked a little maliciously at me as if
to say. What are you up to on board that boat ? but I took
no notice. If I thought he winked at me I should never
forgive him.
My dear j. B., Oh; my dear J, B., —
After near 48 hours of solitary confinement at
the modest hotel whose name you behold hereon,
heretofore, and hereabove, impressed, I write to
my friend, fellow countryman, and adversary {qua
whist 1) that he may enjoy, and sympathize with
1 Charles W. Storey.

90 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
my sufferings. I landed at Liverpool on Saturday
night at about 9, or say 10, o'clock, and having
passed the custom house, which put us through
with great civiUty and speed, I partly walked,
partly cabbed to the Adelphi Hotel with two
travelling companions; and almost as soon as there,
sallied forth with the night porter to get a hat. I
had crossed the Atlantic with my old straw —
which very often showed which way the wind blew,
but was squashed on to my head so that nothing
but a cyclone could have stirred it. Well, my dear
J. B,, I bought the jimmiest little curled-up con
cern of a hat perhaps to be found in all England.
I have not seen anything in London equal to it
yet — it is a dreadful contrast to my gloomy aspect
as I move about within prison bounds. I laugh in
wardly at my desolation — but outwardly must be
the unage of soUtary woe. It is a first-rate thing
for an old fellow who has been such a home stayer
as I have been. You see the way of it was this —
James Lowell with divers other of our passengers,
quite a number, elected to land at Queenstown and
make a trip to Killarney, Giant's Causeway, etc.
Now I have no sympathy with giants, who, I think,
are nuisances, and I am too staunch a Cambridge
man to wish to raise a rival to Fresh Pond — these
with divers reasons of prudence regarding the leg
and a certain desire to see the whole length of Irish
Channel down which I buffed it and roughed it
in '39, induced me to go on for Liverpool, where I

TO JOHN BARTLETT 91
arrived as aforementioned, with my hat the color
of an extinct volcano.
Now then, having taken a pull at the pmt of ale
by my side, I proceed. I slept and breakfasted at
the Adelphi and on Sunday forenoon went with
pleasant companions to Chester — partly steamer,
partly R.R. — about an hour's trip — and with
them put up at the Grosvenor Hotel — a very nice
house. Then on Monday at 1,30 I took the train
for London, with one companion only who was
bound for a West End Hotel whUe I preferred,
having no acquaintance, to come to this house,
where I stayed a short time nearly 33 years since.
With certain desperation I demanded a good
room not forty mUes up, although I meant to come
here at all events, WeU, sure enough they gave me
a very accessible and very decent room — but so
dark! I felt a strong desire to recommence the
cultivation of mushrooms (which you know,
maybe, I attempted in the cellar of our old house)
but I repressed it, and devoted myself to an inte
rior melancholy — with a highly amused exterior
observance of the same. If you could have seen
me go in to dinner it would have done you good —
so solemn — my eyes directed at nothing so far as I
could make them act unanimously, and I am sure
Burleigh or CecU could n't have beat me for intense
gravity of aspect,
I had the presence of mind to caU for a J pint
of sherry, which acclimated me a Uttle, After

92 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
dinner I adjourned soon to the smoking-room, and
somehow or other stuck it out tiU bed-time, and I
really think that if I had been astride of the pro
jecting part of one of the poles with a large icicle
to hang on to, I should have felt as social as where
I was. This was Monday evening, Tuesday —
yesterday — I did n't advance much tUl dinner
time, when a pleasant invalid EngUshman ad
dressed me first, I hope I shall meet him today
at dinner. He was just like any quiet, good
Yankee. This may be accounted for by the fact
that he was born in Boston, (England) but now
Uving in the South of England. He rather insisted
on my partaking of and finishing the strawberries
which he had called for. I ate a few of them — they
were very good indeed — with plenty of flavor —
this on the 23d July. It thundered and lightened
during dinner in true American style — they have n't
seen the like of it in London for many years.
I have not walked out to any distance till today.
I took a cab to the Strand and to Charing Cross,
and after making one or two small purchases walked
back. I have not been to Baring Bros, yet — my gold
holding out and more. Tomorrow I think I shall
present my letter of credit, I may go over to Hol
land and up the Rhine before James L[owell] comes,
I love to look at the Englishmen as they come into
the Coffee room — a pretty stalwart set the most
of them — and I am much taken with their fine

TO JOHN BARTLETT 93
chest voices — this is a trait (physical) that im
presses me a good deal.
One of these Enghshmen last evening reminded
me of your partner, Mr. Flagg, and I am waiting
for one to come who shaU remind me of J, B, I
ought to thank you for my sea chair, which was of
service to me and many others on the passage.
The passage was a quiet one but colder than a
man would think leaving Boston on the 9th, Take
care of yourself — when you write keep me advised
of the health of the firm. Give my love to Mrs.
Bartlett and believe me Yours aff.
After a stay in London, Holmes went to Germany
and then to Vienna. After other wanderings he
settled for the winter in Paris at the Hotel de
Lorraine, 7 Rue de Beaune.
"J. H. came back to us day before yesterday,"
LoweU writes Norton, May 1, 1873, "after a month
in Italy where he did not much enjoy himself. He
says that he has become a thorough 'misoscopist'
or hater of sights. He goes home in June, and I
shall miss him more than I like to think."'
Norton, then in London, writes in his journal:
"Lowell always carried too much of Cambridge
with him, and John Holmes and he have managed
to make the Quays and Rue de Rivoli mere con
tinuations of Brattle Street,"
» Letters of J. R. Lmeell, vol. II, p. 98.

94 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Assuredly, Holmes did carry Cambridge about
with him. In Venice he used to go every day to
one commonplace spot, because it reminded hun of
the junction of Broadway and Cambridge Street
in the Lower Port. His love of his native town was
quickened by absence. He undertook what we
may call a sentimental journey to Denmark, in the
hope of finding there a chance traveling companion
whom he fell in with on his first trip to Europe in
1839. On arriving at his destination, he learned
that his friend had been dead nearly thirty years.
After taking a hurried glimpse of Edinburgh and
York, he met the Wares and they all sailed home
ward from Liverpool on the Siberia.
To J. R. Lowell
Dresden, August 28, 1872.
I have been wandering in strange lands since I
saw you, and am now "zuriick" in Dresden, trying
to lay in a few words of High Dutch,
It is astonishing with what ease the natives speak
this difficult tongue. The dumb animals know
about as much of it as I do, "Kommen," and they
come, — "Gehen," and they go. It is a fortnight
tomorrow since I left you, and you left me, for I
suppose you went recht to Cumberland, When you
get this you will advise me of your movements —
and I wiU try to make mine agree. I think now of
staying here a week or ten days, looking at pic
tures and the like, and intend to become a connois-

TO J. R. LOWELL 95
seur. Sky lines {Vide Col, T, A,), perspectives and
chiaroscuros will be among my smaUest hoards, I
hope to invent something — say katoptric
With all this I am in a very modest mood. I am
at the Hotel Zum Goldner Engel, where I am on
short allowance of English, I assure you, and it is
submiraculous that I have got here — for all the
Deutsch I have used, I might have worked down
to the Black Sea by this time, which I am thankful
I did not do, I never was more scanted for lingo,
surely, WeU now you must write me straightway and
mayhap you will like to come over here and renew
your acquaintance with the Professor, and so with
much love to you and Mrs, Lowell I am
Yours affectionately,
Thursday forenoon.
I have nothing special to add, and yet therefore
I add something. It seems inhospitable (for want
of a better word) to send so vacant a letter. Here
am I ganz allein, keeping myself company in a sur
prising manner, I am now a good deal wanted at
the Hotel Zum Goldne Engel (I don't pretend to
spell German),
I want very much to hear from you and am hop
ing that you both have had a royal (Koeniglicher)
time in England, I have very much my native
tongue vergotten, so pardon mistakes.

96 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES

To J. R. Lowell
Dresden, September 23, 1872.,
Monday.
I received your welcome note of September 18
on Saturday afternoon, the 21st. I began to fear
that you or Mrs. L. might be ill and hindered from
returning to London.
Ich bin ganz freudig, zufrieden heiter lustig
frohlich to find that you are all right,
I mean to wait here for an answer to this, that
we may form a plan of junction. If you write me
on the instant, I ought to receive your letter by
next Tuesday, the 30th.
I wish you would tell me how long you mean to
stay in Paris, and where to go from there,
I recollect that you spoke of living for a while in
some quiet French town ; this suits my views exactly.
Please write with all minuteness possible about
your plans.
I shall probably leave here immediately on re
ceiving your answer. I think of going to Denmark
for a few days, and after that, according to what I
hear from you, follow you more or less directly, I
may wish to go into Bavaria and into the Erck
mann-Chatrian localities, and so to Paris, or other
point as you may write me. If you are going to be
for several weeks at Paris or are going thence to
any French town to reside a certain time, as above
mentioned, I can wander about a little as well as not.

TO J. R. LOWELL 97
I have been re-re-reading Thiers a Uttle: with
regard to the fighting around Dresden in 1813. I
find myseff a little infected with strategy — have
thought of sending my baggage down the left bank
of the Elbe (there is no navigation from here),
while I go on the right, uniting the two columns at
the mouth of the river and so occupy a position
on your flank if you should attempt to go back to
England. Practically however as I have no force
to escort the baggage, and the amount is very
small, I shall take it with me and make no show
of science. I made a distribution of boots to my
forces on Saturday — in other words got a pair
$6.28, capacious, strong and ugly.
I have now staid a month here, exclusive of my
trip to Vienna. I suppose that I am about a ninth
as well acquainted with Dresden as you are. My
inteUectual being has surely enlarged itself little,
and my corporeal has shrunken I am certain, , , ,
When I look in the glass and see the "old gent"
who presents hunself, I say "Well my good Sir
and what brought you here?" , , .
I have this moment received a letter from Rowse
— I have read it, and Oh, how funny ! Tell him he
has shaken my enfeebled constitution badly — tell
him my miseries are all real and I truly hope his
are — there is no use in either of us shamming un
der such circumstances — misery and soUtude are
my only companions and friends.
Kind remembrances, etc.

98 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
To J. R. Lowell
Drukheim, October 27, '72.
I received yours (not dated, but postmarked the
25th) with the very greatest pleasure. I began to
fear that you had left Paris, and left some notice
for me where to follow, and your letter was an
immense satisfaction.
I by no means think of depreciating your letter,
when I say that it does n't take much to make a
holiday for me in Diirkheim — but it was the first
enUvening event since my arrival at this terraced,
wine-growing, honest, bottled town. The bottles
here are such as for one-third of a century I have
not seen — I can't say bottomless, for what bottle
I tearfully ask has not a bottom — but these
bottles wear no bustles — their bottom is but a
thin spectrum between the wine and perdition, —
and you know, James, that our bottles at home are
all bottom — Yea, All Bottom.
I was delighted with your energetic call to me to
come on and join you. If I should stay two days
longer here I think you would hardly mind it, —
and I should arrive very soon after my letter.
I should n't mind paying for a day or two for
any good room which such payment would keep
for me. The prospect of being with you and Rowse '
in comfortable quarters is beyond measure satis
factory — but my now dear bosom companion and
• Samuel W. Rowse, American artist; famous for crayon portraits.

TO MRS. JOHN BARTLETT 99
bedfeUow, Misery, begs me to stay and suffer two
days more, and I can hardly deny her. She is
reasonably jealous of her rival, Happiness, and she
sounds it in my ear: " Old gent, have n't I been true
to you? Have n't I stuck by you? Do you know
H.? [meaning Happiness]" I answer modestly,
"My dear M., I have no more than a passing
acquaintance with her." " I am glad to hear you
say so," says M. "She is the ficklest — wantonest
jade. Oh ff I could only tell you all that I know
about her!" "You needn't say a word M." (I
reply), "your dear, old, wizened woe-begone face is
enough for me — you are reliable — I will try to
stay two days in Durkheim,"
Age, I hope not quite dotage, has made me write on
the wrong side of the paper but you won't mmd this.
With love to you and Mrs. L. and kind regards
to Rowse, I am Yours affectionately.
To Mrs. John Bartlett
Paris, November 20, 1872.
My dear (Mrs.) Hannah (Bartlett), —
Ask J, B, if this looks Uke saying My dear Han
nah, and ff he says it does, I wiU treat liberally to
anything economical, I wiU give him as many of
my cigars as he can smoke in twenty-four hours,
and as much of my claret as he can drink in forty-
eight, I am in a quiet hotel with J, R. L, and his
wife, Uving nearly the same sedentary Ufe as at

100 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
home. Indeed, I cannot walk much, having now
one of my downs, though I got famously up, in
Dresden. TeU your John that I got his letter —
that it was very pleasant but very short, and that I
expect a long and circumstantial one from him. If
he won't take that trouble I shan't think so well of
him. When I wrote him I believe I asked no an
swer, as I have of almost no one — none out of the
family; but as he saw fit to write, teU him to write
me a long one and give me his account of the fire,
which I should like to have.
I will now briefly tell where I have been, and
staid. On August 15, finding that James wished to
make a tour in England, and a visit to William
Storey in Northumberland, I took the steamer for
Rotterdam, — thence a through ticket for Dres
den, and made out to get there on August 17, with
out a word of High Dutch but with great anxieties
lest I should be switched off into some wild and
pagan country,
Tuesday, August 20, I set out for Vienna with
the Dorrs, whom I met at Dresden, I had a very
pleasant trip, and on Tuesday 27th bade them
good-by and about noon set out for Dresden and
arrived at about 4 say the next morning. I staid
there in entire solitude till October 15, except a few
days before I left, in which I had the company of
Henry Ware, who had come to spend the winter
in Dresden. I fraternized with him but could n't
walk much.

TO MRS. JOHN BARTLETT 101
On October 15 I set out for Rendsburg in Hol
stein, to find the old friend with whom I traveUed
in '39, who I had reason to believe was stiU living.
I found only his nephew (who also had been my
companion) older than his uncle of 1839 — and I
found that my pleasant friend had been dead since
1845. I was very pleasantly received by the
nephew, who was but a young fellow when I
travelled with him, and on October 17th set out
for Frankfort-on-the-Main, where I arrived at 9 or
10, say, next morning. Staid over the day — re
freshed — drew some money — looked at the town,
which is extremely pretty, and on Saturday, Octo
ber 19 went by Mannheim to Durkheim, a town of
Rhenish Bavaria, prettily situated in a country of
vineyards. Here I stayed ten days, lonely enough,
and on Wednesday October 30 took a through
ticket for Paris and arrived there Thursday morn
ing before J, R. L, was up. Here I have been domi
cUed with him very comfortably ever since, but
have been quite sedentary. I can walk but little,
R. W. Emerson with his daughter came to the
house last Friday, and go on for Egypt tomorrow.
This is a very prosy history of my pilgrimage,
which itself has been for the most part prosaic,
TeU J, B. that I am loyal to "the Centre," We
hear that he has bought a lot to build; let him tell
me about it when he writes — teU him he must
write me a long letter if he writes me any. I don't
pretend to teU you about the places I have been

102 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
at — for when I consider the many people who have
been everywhere and almost never open their Ups
for "Narrative" and are seldom asked to do it, I
feel that my scanty impressions had at least better
not be committed to paper, I don't know that they
would afford much material for small talk. There
is one thing I can teU you — that it is mighty dark
here in Paris most of the time at this season. I had
to stop at 3^ this afternoon, I am getting a num
ber of letters ready for the Brest steamer of the 23d,
and find myself a good deal Umited by the darkness
of the day, and the effort to my eyes of writing at
night. I suppose I shall go to Italy bye and bye, but
James Lowell seems quite too contented with his
abode here to go yet awhile, I may have to go
alone, in which case I shall probably make a short
business of it, I shall not probably come home tiU
spring, I have worked at German somewhat and
French a very little. This has served to please me
with the idea of an occupation. I have been patri
otic from the moment I left the wharf, I have n't
yet seen a (country) place half as pretty as Cam
bridge — nothing to compare with Brattle Street,
unless possibly in Frankfort, but the grounds there
had aU the pubUcity of a considerable city and are
hardly to be compared with the domestic reserve
of Brattle Street.
Paris is very beautiful in the way of a great city.
The river is very straight here andtaffords a fine

TO MRS. JOHN BARTLETT 103
vista by day and night — the lights at night are
very beautiful. The river as you know is bounded
by fine walls on each side, and the space from the
waUs to the water, which I suppose is covered in
freshets, is paved nicely with square stone. There
is great plenty of Uttle steamers, darting down
stream or pushing gallantly up, and there are here
and there rows of trees down on the paved shore,
which must be very tmral-rural in summer. The
Tuileries and Louvre too, situated along the river,
present a magnificent front, I won't venture to say
how long.
Our hotel here is a charming old place — simple
and comfortable and the things exceUent — chops,
omelettes and I think steaks not to be surpassed.
I have a wood fire in a little deep old-fashioned
chimney, which returns a small dividend of heat
for the wood invested, James Lowell and Mrs, are
out this evening or would wish to be remembered
to you both, I take the responsibility — and re
member them most kindly to you. My eyes begin
to ache — I have got to write tomorrow, so, after
you have scolded J. B. roundly for sending so
short a letter, give my love to him, and then,
addressing the "Bartlett pair" I conclude with.
Yours aff.
Mr, and Mrs. LoweU desire to be kindly remem
bered to you both.

104 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
To John Bartlett Paris, November 26, 1872,
I sent a letter to Mrs, Bartlett last Thursday,
and now write to you in hopes of receiving bye and
bye a long one in return.
You must have had a prodigious time of it lately,
with the fire and the horse disease.^ We got news
of the fire very soon, and shortly after of its limits.
It seems almost invidious to be congratulated for
escape from a calamity in which so many of your
neighbors suffered; nevertheless I will tell you that
I am glad you have escaped. I suppose you re
moved your stock, if that was possible in the want
of horse-power. One hardly knows what to say
after such an event, more than that he is sorry for
all the sufferers. It calls out the manly fortitude
of thousands whom words don't avail. The suffer
ing from losses, disappointments in plans, and the
weary labor of reconstruction of business and
buildings and everything must be terrible. And
what a new view this fire gives of the tenure of
property. When I heard of the first reports which
announced the probable general failure of insur
ance companies, I felt as if I might give up about
the greater part of my property and be prepared to
go on to a low diet at any moment. Accounts are
' The Great Fire of Boston occurred November 9-10, 1872. An
epidemic of epizooty, coming at the same time, put the fire-engine
horses out of commission.

TO JOHN BARTLETT 105
better now, I received the Journal of the 11th
today with a detailed account of the fire, which
is far more unpressive than the general reports,
received before. It must have been a most anxious
time with you, and now it is over I should like to
have you teU me your experience,
I hope you are well reinstated now in comfort
and peace of mind, otherwise I would n't ask a
letter of you. It is very httle that I have asked of
anybody in that way I can assure you; and don't
you write me now if it is a burden, but if you do
write a whopper four pages y?ne. It won't take you
more than an hour or so, I am conscious that I
ought to teU you something in my letter but have
precious little. I think I have told my story in my
letter to Mrs, B. and have not much more than
that, i.e. my journeyings and residences.
Henry Ware, I believe I have said, came to
Dresden a Uttle while before I left, but I could n't
walk about much with him, I got quite smart at
one time in Dresden, but standing in the gallery
there, and afterward taking a Uttle too long walk,
put me all back again, and since I have been in
Paris, which is a month within one day, I have
taken but very short walks, and seen but little. In
fact I have lived the same sedentary life as I have
so much at home. I keep up my loyalty to Old
Cambridge, but having come abroad I wish to see
Italy, and suppose I shall go there pretty soon.
James is very comfortable here and seems in no

106 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
hurry to depart and it is the same with myself. Do
teU me if you don't get up some whist. Also
whether you have sat on the piazza this summer
as much as ever, and enjoyed it as weU; how Carter
is — how Choate is ( and remember me to him) and
all those things that seem so homeUke. I am mighty
moderate in my potations here; wine and nothing
but, — and Ught wine too, James Lowell the same;
and tonight as I sit writing have nothing^ to look
forward to for a snifter — for a nip — but the
waterbottle — however I won't be too good. I do oc
casionally get a bottle of wine up into my room, —
have once had a bottle of what I think was Port,
very good — not light wine — and had James
Lowell in and had a good session. So much comes
out on cross (self) examination.
Well you see that it is by no means a gay life
that I lead, away from home, though now a very
comfortable one, and so far as domestic Ufe is con
cerned a very pleasant one except that I am neces
sarily a great deal alone. J. L. has to go out a good
deal and I cannot of course accompany him.
Paris is more beautiful than I remembered it to
be and a more sohd city than London, ff stone is
considered more massive than brick.
The river (which I am very near to) runs very
straight through the city, affording a fine vista up
and down.
It is enclosed aU along within solid walls, with
fine broad parapets which form the boundary of

TO JOHN BARTLETT 107
wide and handsome streets on each side. Then
from high-water mark is all handsomely paved
with square stone down to low ditto. Looking from
my side the TuUeries and Louvre stretch along
opposite some fifth of a mile, say, to the left of them
a long grove, a part I believe of the garden, then
handsome buildings as far as you can see, and in the
distance the] *°^^^'- i of Fontainebleau Mimly seen.
Looking up the river, Notre Dame, a grand old
buUding as you know, and soUd handsome buUdmgs
aU along to it. Then here and there down on the
sloping shore of the river are lines of trees which
rise up in charming contrast to inflexible stone all
about. It is 12| p.m. If you can stand this prosy bit
of description you can write me a long letter —
see you do. Remember me kindly to Mrs. Bartlett.
Yours aff. J. H.
Have you been Smelting? and if so, how often?
How is the Firm? How is Storer? and remember
me to him.
To John Bartlett
20/4 It is too dark to write — barely possible,
Wednesday afternoon,
November 27, 3.5,
It is a rainy day, and already almost too dark to
write, but I want to set you an example and so
spUce my letter. > He meant St. Cloud.

108 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
I have been again looking over the account of the
fire. It must have been of the most tremendous
kind — I suppose that with a very large number of
people it is but a heavy loss and grievous obstruc
tion and delay. To how many it is ruin and a be
ginning over again, I cannot tell, — perhaps you
wiU give me information about it. I am waiting
now to write to Mr. Clark, expecting a letter to
which I can reply — if you see him I wish you
would ask him to subscribe liberaUy for me if any
collection is made.
I am invited out to a Thanksgiving dinner to
morrow, to a Mons. Logel's who married a Boston
lady. I fear I shaU not enjoy it so well as my
Thanksgiving dinner of last year, I won't write
any more description of Paris on this thin paper;
it is too heavy, I wiU only mention the trees aU
along the street bordering the river. The Seine
is very full now and affords employment to the
"Standing committee," which I frequently join for
a moment on my short expeditions outside.
You ought to hear the wooden shoes, or wooden-
soled shoes, when some little boy takes to running
in the comparative stUlness of evening. It sounds
like the correction which his mamma applies to the
little boy's foundation, magnified two hundred fold.
Excuse the tedium of this but admire the quan
tity and imitate it.
J. L, is out and Mrs, L. in her room, but I send
both their regards knowing that they will ratify.

TO JOHN BARTLETT 109
To John Bartlett Paris, January 28, 1873,
My dear j, B,, —
My appeal to you was not in vain. It resulted in
a capital letter which really gave me a great deal of
pleasure, I have only one criticism to offer, which
I advance with a feeling of delicacy, not wishing in
the least to wound your feelings. If the 6th page
had been followed by the 7th, 8th, 9th, and say the
10th, it would have given a sort of equilibrium to
the letter highly artistic and gratifying. Five pages
of introduction and five of conclusion. You take
my idea ! You see yourself how complete the thing
would have been! However, waiving criticism
which is the art of discontent I thank you heartily
for the incomplete 6 pages that you sent, I really
think that you have a natural turn for letter-
writing which you ought to cultivate whUe you are
young, "Youth is the seed-time of life," or "Life
is the seed-time of youth," or something of that
sort — it runs very prettily either way,
I fear — or rather I hope — that your desolation
during the absence of your old friends and fellow
clubbists is a little affected. I don't want you to
have to become a philosopher as I have been
forced to do. It is to be sure a highly honorable and
mysterious sort of business, but, I tell you, J, B,,
a hard one — a mighty hard one. I don't wonder
though that you should feel a little of that solitude

no LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
which I have felt so much. I think that J. R. L,
occasionally casts longing eyes back on Brattle
Street and Elmwood Avenue.
I was interested by your condensed account of
the horse disease and the fire, which truly were
great phenomena in their way. I think I see a cer
tain individual with his leg of mutton in hand and
resolution in his face marching sturdily homeward,
I wish he had to do this four tunes a week at least —
or its equivalent — and add so many food-enjoying
days to his calendar.
Some of these days I doubt not that individual
wiU gu-d up his loins and write me a letter, 10 to
12mo, and in such case let him throw in aU the
personal and local sketches that occur to him in a
reflection of not less than half an hour over not
more than 14 drops of — I can't recall the name
but I think you will know what I mean. Have you
"reported at the Centre"? Have you been to the
Centre at aU? You ought to do it in memory of
old times and report to me.
You report the weather mild up to the 17 Decem
ber. Since about that, you have had according
to all accounts rousing weather. I appoint you
meteorologist-general for the U.S. to report
to me personally on this subject in not more than
thirty days from this date. By the way, though not
specially apropos to the weather, don't let me for
get to thank you for your kind offer which Mr.
Clark reported to me — but my losses were very

TO JOHN BARTLETT 111
small and I have been so much of a philosopher
in Europe that my finances are very prosperous,
but it was weU done of you. Old Boy!
Now do you know why I have put in that little
expression? I'U teU you — All hands, ff they live
at all, have got to carry that freezing title, and I
thought I would take the first chiU off by apply
ing it along with the warm expression of my grati
tude. I am interested in all you say about your house, ^
I don't know but you ought to have formally con
sulted the Club — and have obtained a majority
of voices for your project! However, now I think
of it the subject was up before them at various
times and I don't know but you as good as obtained
leave to buUd. If the proceedings should prove in
any way insufficient, the remedy will be for you to
caU a meeting for ratification — and I should ad
vise you as a friend (personal interests apart) to
take aU possible means on that occasion to concUi
ate the good opinion of the Club in favor of your
project. I won't undertake to suggest the means
of conciliation — that might seem indelicate, al
though I am working entirely in your interests.
I presume you have got pretty architectural by
this time and don't talk of anything smaUer than
pediments and entablatures, I don't happen to
know much about the science or its terms — but
' Mr. Bartlett was building at 165 Brattle Street the house in
which he lived during the rest of his life.

112 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
perhaps you will accept one practical hint from me.
From all that I have heard about our weather now
is the time to put the friezes into the house. Don't
fail to write me how you come on with your
building. Who 's your architect and ditto carpen
ter? I was always for the site you have chosen. I
considered the width of the lot of comparatively
small importance, and the length of it, with the
ascent of the land, of great importance.
When you have a house there the disproportion
of length and breadth will I think disappear, which
was visible in the open lot. I am very glad that
you have fixed on your enterprise, and on that
place. Now let me tell you that I received Mrs.
Hannah Bartlett's letter last Wednesday, and read
it with a great deal of pleasure and gave it "my
approbation" as a very good, pleasantly written
piece of friendship, and I mean to answer it very
soon. I relinquished all ambitious views at home to
take up the hard life of philosopher over here,
and it is a great consolation to me to be pleasantly
remembered by those I left in possession of Home
comfort. I had not heard of J. H.'s illness — the
poor fellow must have had a hard time of it.
You both have my approbation for getting
vaccinated. I have not said anything about my residence
here — indeed there is very little to say — my
movements are so limited. I live so much as when
I was at home, that an attempt at talk on that

TO MRS, JOHN BARTLETT 113
subject would probably be only tedious. It would
do weU enough to chat about at home.
I have written you a long letter — if it proves a
duU one I have done you an irreparable injury.
Why? Why because when it is once read you can't
un-read it.
When you feel very jolly some time give vent in
a letter to me,
Mr, and Mrs, LoweU send their kind regards to
you both. The French letter wiU come I think bye
and bye.
With my love to you both. Yours truly.
To Mrs. John Bartlett
Paris, February 26, 1873.
My dear Mrs. Bartlett, —
I have already told J, B. how much I was pleased
with your letter but it is no harm to repeat it. Yes,
that letter, coming from the First Precinct — yea, I
may say from the very "Centre" (For explanation
of "Centre" apply to J, B. Esq., Brattle St.) did
me good — it enlivened and refreshed all my men
tal circulation. And when you wound up with
those apt quotations from Scripture, it so carried
me home, that I felt for the pew door to let myself
out. Yea verily. Sister Bartlett, thy letter was as
a bundle of sweet herbs to one coming out of the
desert and as sweet waters from the brook Kishan.
A letter from home should be just what yours

114 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
is — your little resumi of home incidents is all of it
interesting, and I have to thank you for not for
getting Ben Butler, for whom, funny as it may
seem, I entertain a most tender regard. I know
well that to others he seems nothing but a little
wheezing cynic, but to me he is a bunch of most
sentimental wool.^ Of course, I am pleased to be
told that I am not forgotten at home — that is a
comforting assurance to an "old gent" whose pres
ence abroad did not seem to have been particularly
expected by the people of Europe,
Good wishes are never out of season and I return
yours — hoping that you may both Uve in the new
house till J, B. grumbles at the repairs that time
has made needful; or if this house should not en
tirely suit you, that you may live to build a dozen
more, — within a radius however of not more than
a quarter of a mile from the present site, - — pro
vided nevertheless that in the direction of the
Appian Way, you may go one half naile.
Don't think that I am going to forget Nim, Tell
him that I hear his bark of welcome and farewell
even here, and hope before long to hear it there,
and that I cordially return the kind expressions
with which he has favored me.
I should have mightily liked to walk about here
or in London or Dresden with you and J, B,, but I
have not once been in condition to take a leisurely
• Benjamin F. Butler, the Massachusetts demagogue, who was
then throwing one of his characteristic political somersaults.

TO MRS, JOHN BARTLETT 115
StroU, and the charm is, in that, to take as much
time as you please to explore and gaze. The far
thest that I have walked was the other day with
James LoweU to Notre Dame, Going up stream
along the Seine from our house, you come in a
short half mile to the Pont Neuf where the "Isle"
begins and the bridge bestrides water, land, and
water again. At this point the fanciful part of Paris
begins for me, the old original Paris — buUt when
an island was desirable as a defensible position.
As you stand on the bridge you see the two
branches take their separate way, and between
them the island rises with buildings older and more
irregular than you have passed in coming there,
and so grouped, or situated, that they seem to rise
toward the centre as if on an eminence, and are
something on the picturesque order. In the neigh
borhood are some of the genuine old streets of real
antiquity, some ten feet wide, I feel a difference
of about four hundred years after passing beyond
Pont Neuf, and consequently become a very "old
gent," I have been used to think that people talked
of the beauty of Paris because they had such gay
times there, but now, confining myself to my own
neighborhood only, I find a great deal that is
charming along the river, with its fine solid walls —
its weU-paved shores, the trees growing close
thereto, and above on the streets bordering, more
numerous trees, broad walks, and I will add, not
as a beauty, but as a most effective accompaniment

116 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
of beauty, the frequent seats at regular intervals,
I should be ungrateful to omit them for I have
proved their value extensively. The Garden of the
TuUeries, about as far from us as Gardiner Hub
bard's house from you, offers first, a certain show
of garden, and then a veritable wood as long as
from your house to Elmwood Avenue and four or
five hundred feet wide. Cords upon cords of chairs
are stacked there to await warm weather, and I
saw a regiment of them that had been beautified
for the season as I passed the other day, and have
felt warmer ever since. The buildings are of a soft
pale stone that hardens by ex[posure].
As to people, you know that they have in the
main the same appearance here as in Boston, The
ouvriers wear very commonly a short white linen
frock — the women who carry vegetables, fish, etc,
in handcarts or baskets, go bare-headed (that is
wear only caps), and the very young children that
you see in doorways, or making short excursions
on the sidewalk, wear something equivalent to a
tight fitting night-cap — which I presume it is,
after 7 o'clock in the evening.
The guests at our hotel are almost entirely
French, J, L, understands their conversation and
joins in it. Mrs. L. understands it and talks a little.
I don't understand it and confine myself to the
expressions of the countenance, which I make as
knowing as I can. There is no dog, no cat in the
house, or I should send their international regards

TO J. R. LOWELL 117
to Nim without consulting them. Cats so far as I
can judge are quite scarce here and deem it expedi
ent apparently to keep dark. SmaU dogs are reason
ably plenty and present a fair average I should say
of inteUigence. I saw one Uttle fellow stop and look
through the raUing of the bridge as something was
passing, with such a critical air, that I should n't be
surprised if he kept the run of business on the river.
I wiU tmst to your exceUent temper not to be
irritated with the prosy details of this letter — you
wrote me a pleasant and a long letter — I felt
bound to write you at least a long one, which I may
say this is, I have not been to Italy yet, expect to
go soon.
Give my love to J, B. Very truly. Your old friend.
To J. R, Lowell London, June 9, 1873.
My dear James, —
I let the first interrupted place of date stand as
evidence of my long stay in Paris. It will be a fort
night tomorrow since I set out for Embden at 3
or thereabouts, while you were, I fear, having a
dull time of it at Chartres, It was a dull day, at
home or abroad, I was in Embden the next eve
ning at about 6, after seeing a good deal of poor
country as I neared my place of destination, and
any number of black and white cattle. It was cold

118 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
as Greenland when I entered the Maison Blanche,
a hotel of moderate pretentions — which it sus
tains very weU. What with the cold, autumnal
evening, the ordinary-looking house — the muddy
bed of the canal footing my windows, deserted by
the tide — I felt an intense dreariness as I took
possession of my chamber and received my water
for shaving in a small bowl — but on going down I
found a good dinner — after dinner I found a De
Ruyter (relative of the famous one). De Ruyter
directed me to the British Consul, perhaps [iUeg
ible] who received me very pleasantly and con
vinced me that there was nothing for me to learn
in Embden. I came home, and finding jolly De
Ruyter (another habitue of this tavern) in com
pany with some of his old cronies, transferred my
self to my room — where I made some Uttle experi
ments on the nature and properties of Schiedam,
and passed a placid evening conscious of the good
work / was doing. The next morning I was off at
about 8 for Rotterdam, where I arrived at evening,
— Next day secured passage and saUed for Lon
don (Friday, May 30) where I arrived on Satur
day noon and took up my quarters as near as I
could to my old room. On Wednesday evening,
June 4, I set forth for Edinbro, where I arrived
pretty early next morning — drove about a good
part of the day and had a nice time — quite a glori
ous time for an "old gent," On Friday morning at
101 o'clock or so set forth again. Stopped at York

TO J. R, LOWELL 119
and tried to find Henry Ware, in vain; I sent the
Boots of the Royal Inn twice forth and twice he
returned from a bootless search. So at evening I
resumed my route and arrived in London at an
early mornmg hour. At about 7 o'clock of this
Saturday evening, June 7, I was off again for
Oxford — where I arrived by 10 or so — was about
the town a good deal, yesterday (Sunday), —
Heard a part of a sermon in the forenoon, in the
afternoon same, and at 8,30 was off for London
again. When I returned here I found a number of let
ters in limbo at the B[arings'] — whether because
I had omitted "till further notice" or not — no
matter. There was one from the Gurneys — in
which he, the Dean, speaks of you as "that best of
friends" in wishing, as I recollect, to be remem
bered to you.
So far, I have written with your favorite quill
pen — with consequences which you behold. I am
quite busy with the little matters that have to be
done before I go to Liverpool.
. . . (What seems such a blot above, is you see
a plan of Edinburgh drawn up for you — I don't
think I should have made it without a quiU pen.)
Remember me kindly to my old instructress and
fellow pupU, who I tmst is fully enjoying the sum
mer (I came near calling it spring — it does n't feel
summery here yet),
I look back pleasantly on my old abode in Rue de

120 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Beaune, with its various portraits among which
Battiste is prominent, — moving solemnly about,
— I may say stalking, to the performance of his
daily tasks. Remember me pleasantly to the house
hold. Also convey my regards to the Marquis —
our friendship is a sentimental one founded on
friendly glances across the table — and rather in
jured than advanced by any talk we may have
had — so waft him from me a pleasant sentimental
recollection of him with his friendly smile on, . , .
Well, go thy way James, use tobacco and other
aids to conduct, freely and I shall hope to see thee
one of these days with a handle to thy name. And
am Thine truly.
To J, R, Lowell
Cambridge, July 29, 1873.
My dear James, —
You have no doubt expected to hear from me
before this, and would that I had been in writing
mood ; but I have been a good way from it. I sailed
as perhaps you know on the 12th of June. I was
full of the hope of indulging my home sentimental-
ism to the top of my bent, I meant to perambulate
the old familiar places and indulge myself in sober
revery, but when I arrived, my leg bothered me
somewhat more than it had and I was forced to
keep pretty quiet, indeed have not yet quitted that
regimen, though better. Meanwhile the senti-

TO J. R, LOWELL 121
mental aroma evaporated. I tired myself with
small pursuits in my hot room and finally fell into
a rather melancholy mood from which I hope I am
now emerging. I can walk better now, as I have
once before said.
So much for the psychological and physical —
now for that which doth peculiarly belong to the
experienced traveller — the incidental. Well in the
first place; while you were inspecting the Cathedral
of Chartres under an umbreUa, I was by 3 o'clock
on my way to Embden. I found it a long ride, last
ing tUl 6 or 7 the next evening. I found mighty
little in the way of family information,^ but I met
at the tavern a worthy and jolly collateral descend
ant of De Ruyter, himself of that name. We con
versed fluently in elegant French. I tried the
Schiedam of the locality and found it good. I went
to bed a cheerful man, though quite dreary when I
first arrived. The next day I posted off (via R.R.)
for Rotterdam, engaged passage the next day and
departed at noon, entirely satisfied with the dura
tion of my stay at Rotterdam. The next day,
at noon or thereabouts, I was reinstated at the
Tavistock. I asked for my old room and got the
next but one to it, and afterward got my old room
back. It was odd that my mostly dreary residence
there last year afforded a basis for quite a home
feeling at this time. June 5 I went to Edinboro.
* According to tradition, some of Holmes's Dutch ancestors lived
in Embden.

122 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Stopped at York in returning; made a very pleas
ant trip of it. Saturday, 7th, I ran down to Oxford
at evening and came back the next evening. By
taking proper precautions I escaped having a de
gree conferred on me.
Henry Ware and wffe and sisters came home in
the Siberia, We had a nasty cold roughish, foggish
passage, with a very good, civilized, not numerous
company. We arrived on Tuesday 24 toward eve
ning, and I found Mr. Clark on hand with a coach
which soon restored me to my old residence in the
Appian Way. I found that the spring had been cold
and excessively dry; the grass looked dolefuUy.
I found aU friends weU. I have seen the Gurneys
but once, very soon after arrival — they were in
exceUent condition and seemed pleased to see me
home. Gurney was overworked a little, you know,
at one time, and unweU. J. B, welcomed me cor
diaUy to his piazza, which I have frequented of
evenings since. He goes into his new house in Au
gust. He says he was very solitary after we went —
he is in very good condition now, quite rotund.
Now I expect you in return for this small letter
to give me wealth of talk about yourself and Mrs.
Lowell, what you have done and what you are
doing. I saw an account of your dignification at Oxford
and that there was enthusiasm,' Do let me have a
* Orford University conferred on LoweU the degree of D.C.L. in
1873.

TO J. R. LOWELL 123
fuller account. If you are stiU at the Hotel de
France et de Lorraine, do bring your domestic his
tory there up to this point, and ff not, to the time
at which you left. Commend me most particularly
to my comrade and fellow pupU in the path of
knowledge, Mrs. Fanny Lowell, and if our vener
able teacher should be in your neighborhood re
member me respectfully to a hard man, but a just
and a thorough one. Remember me to our friend
the Marquis — and lastly if you let the household
know that you have heard from me — let them
know that I remember them weU.
I am in at the Doctor's frequently; at Carter's,
Underwood's, H. Ware's infrequently. The latter
has recovered, and as is common after fever, has
grown very fat for him, so that he has the appear
ance of playing a part — so different is he from his
former seff. Carter goes on fattening and to fat
ten — he must never travel in the South Pacific
certainly — they might make a pdti de "boy" gras
of hun.
Since Christmas we have had a rousing winter —
first we had on that day snow changing to rain,
which left a thin, icy floor that was fau- sleighing.
Since that one heavy snowstorm and two or three
lesser ones — we have had cold weather too with
our sleighing ahnost aU the tune — today it thaws
a Uttle. If you are as weU when you receive this
as I hope you wiU be, please teU me what your
weather is.

124 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Our club goes on with regularity, excepting al
ways the Doctor's interruptions, which continue as
formerly. He does not seem to grow feeble upon
them in the least that I see.
I go over to old Mrs. Howe's occasionally and
take a hand at whist, where we play an easy good-
natured sort of game that does not put my skUl to
the test.
I look back with great delight to your clubs —
when we all foregathered before your bright sea-
coal fire and each one saw three other such con
tented, nay hilarious men, for I think an observer
could detect under the Don's gravity the twinkhng
of the inward eye.
Well, I hope we shall see such pleasant times
again and that we may, my dear man, I hope you
will resume all your vigor and expel all your pains
and that we others shall be able (unless one should
be prevented by corpulency) to receive you with
that delight which your return wUl certainly give
us all. I send you my love, regard, esteem, any or
all that you may want. I gave Charles Storey
your remembrances and I send you his — pledging
my word that he will most cordially ratify when
he sees me, "Omnis ratihabitio retrotralatur et
priori mandato sequiparatur." I see Mabel often
and she appears to be in excellent condition. She
and Sam and Clara figure in the sled line now.

CHAPTER V
the mellow years
After commg home John Holmes fell comfort
ably back into the routine which he enjoyed more
than foreign travel. Home for hun meant not
merely the simplest rooms in which he lodged at
No. 5 Appian Way, or the little wooden house itself,
with its typical inverted- V-shaped roof and small
piazza, but also the collections of cats which his
landlady. Miss Tohnan, maintained and in each of
which he took the characteristic interest.
"Why don't you have better quarters, John?"
an old contemporary asked him one day.
" I shan't have better quarters tUl I have a better
haff," Holmes replied.
The crony found the quick repartee so witty
that he sent it to Punch and Punch paid him lav
ishly for it; but he never shared the check with the
author of the joke. Holmes was not a money
maker. John Holmes never had a better half. In his
young days he became engaged, but ]m fiancee died
of consumption before they were married.
Readers unacquainted with Cambridge wiU per
haps care to know that the little street which some
wag dubbed Appian Way — a name adopted by
the town authorities — is hardly more than two

126 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
hundred yards long and connects Garden Street
with Brattle Street. In John Holmes's time it was
flanked by wooden houses, comparatively recent,
and plain even to ugliness. The one old house which
abutted on it had a pleasant association for those
persons who remembered that Arthur Hugh Clough
lived in it during his visit to Cambridge in 1852,
From his front windows John Holmes could
watch the passengers and vehicles on Brattle
Street, only a few steps away, and we may assume
that he knew well, by sight at least, the troops of
little children who frequented the candy and fruit
store at the corner. Whether Appian Way was
given its name by some youngster who imagined
that only academic fossils inhabited it, or by some
one who saw the irony in comparing this incon
spicuous lane with the famous highway of Imperial
Rome, I know not. Its eastern end faced the Cam
bridge Common, where Holmes passed many hours
strolling along the paths or meditating on the
benches. A stone's throw to the left spread the
Washington Elm, still vigorous enough in his time
to throw a little shadow on Fay House, the home of
Radcliffe College. To the right was Christ Church
and the ancient burying-ground, and the mock
Gothic steeple of the Unitarian Church. Across the
way rose the oldest Harvard buUdings, whose
brick waUs were mantled with Japanese ivy which
glowed with richest red toward sunset on autumn
afternoons.

!t!!lllil.,,
iiiUlil

TO J. R, LOWELL 127
Northward, haff hidden by its exuberant Ulac-
bushes, lay the quaint residence in which the great
Dr. Waterhouse, equally irascible and talented,
dwelt for more than half a century. Hither Holmes
went often, to caU upon two very good friends of
his, the doctor's granddaughters, Louisa L. and
Mary H. Ware. They used to sing together at the
piano. They had an annual Latin dinner at which
they always spoke in that language; a feast at
which they consumed a quart of oysters and drank
a pint bottle of champagne which John Holmes
brought in his pocket. Once, when the sisters had
the grippe, he came to read to them, choosing as
a work that would cheer them up De Foe's "His
tory of the Plague in London."
To J. R, Lowell August 1, 1873,
My dear James, —
I think I can fiU this supplementary half sheet,
though material is not plenty. I have knocked
about a Uttle lately — went to Nahant yesterday
to see WendeU, went to our friend Mr. Dorr's
place at Canton on Saturday and staid tiU Monday.
I am going to morrow morning to Dr. Ware's at
Rindge, with Waldo Higginson, to stay a few days.
Not walking much, I have not been up by your
place yet. We have had a pretty fair supply of rain
since I returned, and the country regains its looks.
But such heat! It is perfectly sweltering, smelting

128 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
heat, and with the dog-day characteristics now
superadded it is — language faUs me — but if you
can find a horrid word enough in Old French, do
supply the gap.
The burnt area in Boston is being rapidly filled
up, I went for the first time yesterday inside the
circle and got some notion of the visible limits of
the fire. The later fire of July 4 would have been
considered a very great one but for its overwhelm
ing brother of November, Do write me all about
yourseff and Mrs. LoweU.
At this moment I cannot conjecture where you
are but I will guess Rue de Beaune, whither you
have probably gravitated back from England.
I want to go up by your house and see how lonely
it seems without you. As I came up (per Steamer
Meta) yesterday, from Nahant, I saw a large fire
at E. Boston, which you will have seen chronicled
before you get this.
I am told that Mr. Emerson had a reception at
the Station in Concord and that he enquired of his
daughter what was the meanmg of all those people
being there.'
I deposited 20 pounds to your credit with Mr.
Wellman the other day. I told hun that it was a
debt you had been in no hurry about.
Remember me to Mrs. L. Yours.
1 Mr. Emerson, whose memory had failed, returned to Concord in
May from a foreign tour.

TO J. R. LOWELL 129
To J. R. Lowell
Cambridge, March 18, 1874.
Yours of December 24 m reply to mine of Au
gust (I having landed in June) and now nunc of
March 18 in reply to yours of December 24. "All
this I say," to use the style of Bishop Butler, indi
cates a couple of centenarians. And yet "by gin
ger" (LoweU) we are not that yet, no Sir (ree)
(Occidentalism). For my part give me a good fire,
a clean hearth and the utmost leniency of the
game, and I am as good, pro hac vice (Latin Author),
as any juvenUe, and I wiU take upon me to say at
least as much for you. For the intervals between
such spaces of serious employment they may go
heavier with me than once, but when past they
seem to have escaped nimbly enough. Your reflec
tions on the lapse of tune have started mine. Let
me ease your mind about my hair. By dint of hav
ing small quantities clipped for a good whUe, I have
accumulated a monstrous amount; — it is erratic
and tempestuous and gives me much trouble. I
would gladly contract to thatch half a dozen baldr
heads if they would pay the barber's bill, which I
assure you would be something serious.
You speak of hot punch — I should have got a
good deal more of it if I had n't foolishly asked
in a friend of well-known bibulous power, I wish
I could have been in Venice with you. We would
have fought the prose elements before which I

130 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
succumbed — the Boston east wind, the hotel
Ufe, etc.
My thanks to you both for recollecting me occa
sionally and to you for vicarious charity. I revel
in the idea of it — it makes me enthusiastically
benevolent, I am glad to hear you say that you
want so much to come home. I like the sentiment.
Come on.
Why did n't you tell me a word about Oxford
and the degree? but I know you did n't wish to
appear "sot up" (LoweU).
I think I should feel more at home if you would
come, especially if you would cease to read forever
the old French. I hope you have pretty well read
out, over there.
You are good man desipere in loco when you set
out. You have no half way there, but of late years
you have not set out enough.
My knee (in answer to your hope-expressed) is
better, and I am hoping to walk again comfortably.
I have given your love to the Club.
There have been no great changes here. Old Mr.
Buttrick has died. Mr. Foster has been iU of pneu
monia and recovered. He is 90 years old. Charles
Elliot (married Mary White) has been down with
the same disease for about six weeks; has just now
somewhat recovered his strength.
I went the other day, Monday 9th, to the wed
ding of Elizabeth Sparks — married to Edward
Pickering, As I was coming away I encountered

TO J. R. LOWELL 131
Anna Buttrick and had some Uttle talk with her,
the first for a long time. She left J. B.'s perhaps
before we went abroad. She has lately taken charge
of affairs for Mr. Cushman, and seems to be very
weU situated.
J, B, is now an old settler in his new house.
I have not seen the Gurneys much this winter on
account of distance, but have kept pleasantly along
with them. The same with the Nortons. I have
seen them but once; I hope to see them this evening
and to hear from you through them, which I have
been promised. I hear at this moment the old tinkle
of the college bell. I hope that after such a surfeit
of abroad, that wiU have a charm for you.
I have not alluded to your particular loss, here,
Mrs. Anna Lowell. I felt very sorry that I had not
seen her since I came home.
I went in to Mary Howe's on Monday to see
Charles Sumner's funeral procession. It was im
mensely long and there were a great many people
collected along the route. I saw the Doctor last
evening; he could n't speak with any confidence of
his probable successor.^
Thursday 19th.
I took a coach (LoweU) last evening and went to
Charles Norton's, sat a little in his room with him
and talked of you; inter alia — found that you were
in Rome. Why did n't you — but I find that I have
1 George F. Boutwell succeeded Sumner as Senator.

132 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
asked the question about Oxford once. You won't
be right tUl your foot is on your "native heather."
Let hun return to his native heather. Anon. Ifl
could only have sauntered at leisure, I should tickle
your homesickness to purpose with sentimental
sketches of Cambridge haunts, from Simon's Hill
to Kidder's Swamp.
They have cut down the elms near the Tremont
House (Boston). The whole community was Pad
dock or Anti-Paddock for some time. You hear
little bursts of declamation occasionally now, but
the gist of the matter is gone. Everybody (almost)
bends to the sweep of an idea going at hurricane
rate in our country, but it makes a good deal of
hypocrisy. I beUeve there are hosts of pretended
tree-lovers who hate a tree in their hearts.
I don't doubt that, however often under the
weather, you enjoy Mrs. Lowell's enjoyment like a
good husband and good man. Don't faU to remem
ber her feUow pupU kindly to her. We are having
to day, as we have had ever so much this winter,
warm (and of course muddy) weather. I have my
window open to balance a smaU fire. If I have
omitted to tell you about any thing in particular,
write instantly and I wiU correct it in my next.
With love to both of you and hopes of speedy
return. I am not sure of your Oxford title, which I sup
pose I ought to put on my letter. So you must be
content with the universal Squire.

TO J. R. LOWELL 133
To J. R. Lowell
Cambridge, May 8, 1874,
My dear James and Mrs. Lowell, —
I want to write a short letter to serve as a sort of
preface to your return. And the first thing to do
is to welcome you heartUy in advance. I doubt not
that Doctor LoweU wiU feel a hearty glow of op
pidanism as he treads Brattle Street again, and
Mrs. LoweU all that can be expected from a trans
planted citizeness. Cambridge was once a fortified
town. Not a hand has been raised at whist since you
have been away. No attempt has been made to
reconstitute the club beyond some overtures made
by J. B. to Storer, who was preoccupied with an
other club.
Spring has been coming along with her or his
usual grim front "With fear of colds
Perplexing patients."
But you and I (addressing James) are "to the
manor born." A good strong wind at northeast is
to us pansies and violets. We don't mind if the
blue of the latter flower resides somewhere else; it
is spring, lawful spring, recognized by the Almanac
and fixed by Revised Statutes. They can have cold
winds abroad as found at Venice.
You never cared much for village news and there
is precious little of it. We have a new minister, son

134 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
of Mr. Peabody of King's Chapel — seems to be a
very nice man, sensible, even, and not too conscious
of himself,^
I have told you I suppose how J. B, is in his new
house, mighty handsome, Hannah joyous as ever,
driving with the span, hither and thither, and trot
ting her friends, sound and invalid, about,
AU that I have heard say that you have sent us
a noble poem, and I agree with them,^
I have always felt sorry that we did not visit the
young barrister (I forget the name) that day we
went to the Foundling; it was my lameness hin
dered, I think.
I wish you would remember me, if you have a
chance, to my old acquaintance and friends at
"Hotel de France et de Lorraine," the Marquis,
Monsieur and Madame, Mademoiselle of the
Bureau Clarisse, etc. If you should have to make
a call on Dr, Burridge, kind regards to him.
If it were made a condition of your prompt re
tum, that I should deliver an Oration, I would do
it, tickets deliverable only to citizens and 'esses of
Cambridge origin and not less than fifty years old,
I should have to read it.
Honorable Man ! Why have you wandered so far
from your native shores? Was it to explore the
realms of modem science? Or was it to disport in
' Rev. Francis G. Peabody, Harvard A.B. 1869, remained as pas
tor of the First Parish Church, Cambridge, until 1880.
^ This probably refers to Lowell's poem on Agassiz, printed in the
Atlantic Monthly for May, 1874.

TO J, R. LOWELL 135
the gaieties of a foreign world? etc, etc. No! thou
wentest that the longing sages of the old world
might enjoy thy converse, and wreathe the laurel,
etc, etc.
Danforth would applaud handsomely. He has
very much lost his mind and is no longer a judge
of style,
I trust I sent you in my last most hearty love
and remembrance from the Gurneys, If I did not
it goes with this.
Henry Ware went to Egypt with a rich invaUd
last fall and is expected home very soon.
I dote on the view of and across our old Charles
as I go up our Brattle Street.
Mr. Longfellow's jugera in front of his house are
a blessing to sentimental wayfarers.
I am no letter-writer. Come home and we will
chat pleasantly and amiably, under the Green
wood tree, by the fire, or along the way. You
know you wiU be most heartUy welcomed back.
Come on. To J, R. Lowell
Cambridge, June 15, 1876,
In a far-off country and in the very central vor
tex of our poUtics, I hope you will be pleased to
have a word from a Constituent.
I have been for a day or two living between
Salem and Cambridge in a manner that somewhat
affects my identity — that is — whether J. H. of C.

136 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
or J. H. of S., has become a question. But I write
to you in the name of J. H. of C, one of your
Constituents. I went to Andover yesterday to help marry a
young friend, and having put my very best work
into it, am somewhat exhausted. Very few people
understand the duties and responsibiUties of one
who is called as witness to the solemn service of
matrimony. As you are very busy, I shall not en
large on this farther than to say, that in the highest
view of this function, one is bound to furnish the
proper attention, sympathy (and therefore emo
tion) at every stage of the process. If it is in his
power to secure an end of the matrimonial cable?
ligament? and he can get any purchase, it is his
duty to haul with all his might and make the knot
hard and fast. I shaU say no more except that few
understand this matter, and that from long obser
vation and practice I think I do, and to say that I
am much exhausted by my efforts is enough.
I sat in G. B.'s porch last evening, and he re
ported the Convention to me, I know that you will
do rightly, because you wiU be sure to do what you
think right. Don't give the Democrats any chance
to come in, for that way in my opinion sadness and
badness lie; but for all else I doubt not you wiU
give the Convention a good dose of outspokenness
and manliness according to your opportunity. It
makes quite an epoch to get a man of your stamp
into such a convocation.

TO J. R, LOWELL 137
So my dear James, keep thy head cool, thy feet
warm. . . .
If thou choosest to return incog, (as it were),
do so; but say the word and the Club shall meet
thee with trump and banner in fuU force.
We all wish thee back and are Thine, affection
ately J. H.
(and five hundred others)
This last letter refers to the fact that Lowell went
as a delegate to the Republican Convention at
Cmcinnati. He went as a Reformer, in the hope
of nominating Mr. Bristow; but Gov. R. B. Hayes
was the nominee, and after his disputed election,
Hayes, among many other admirable appointments,
made Lowell American Minister to Spain. Lowell
quitted Cambridge for his post in July, 1877,
Hohnes rejoiced in the honor bestowed upon his
friend, but he felt his absence more and more.
To J. R. Lowell
Cambridge, August 21, 1877,
I received your very delightful letter yesterday
at 5,11, as recorded on the back of the same. I
enjoyed it to the last line. It is, as the country boys
who lived with us used to say, a master good letter.
The restoration of the old picture of our hotel life
in the persons of Mons. Carrier and Madame and
the rest, Clarisse excepted, is charming. I am glad
that there is so much conservation left in this world

138 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
of change. The idea of Josef's admiring gaze at
Mons. Carrier is your own. I witnessed the face
but took no note of the expression and coloring.
It is a delightful idea — the knight and his squire
attenuated to this point, Josef sharpens and pre
sents the weapon, and admires Carrier's delicate
dissection with the same enthusiasm that one of
the old school expended on a chine-cleaving blow;
and if I recollect rightly Carrier economically blows
the trumpet in defiance and conquest for himself
after a triumphant pinch — but I won't be sure.
Then our stout little woman in the Kiosk: I am
pleased to know that she survives Pierrot whom
I had not heard of. Good little woman with her
fancies of chevres, moutons and the rest, may she
have some oriental piece of luck corresponding to
her habitation that wUl give her her goats without
a butt or an if, and all the rest the same,
I won't recapitulate your letter to you any more
except to sympathize for the horrid night you must
have spent in Carrier's shirt with your baggage in
abeyance, I can imagine the dreams you had after
the boiled beef, how you grappled with Carrier
who came to demand his garment saying that the
Commune had risen and he was going to fly with
all his effects — how you met the faithless courier
and harikarid him in the street — were tried to
your great surprise before Judge Ladd, and still
more to your astonishment, when you had arrived
in due course of law at the guiUotine, found J. B,

TO J, R. LOWELL 139
Dana to be the executioner, who demanded 50 cents
as your acknowledgment of the deed he was going
to do.
Don't forget to tell me at your convenience,
whether you did not rather enjoy the amicable
bustification at your departure. I think on the
whole "you'd ought ter," to use a familiar dialect.
WeU, now we have heard that you have made
your appearance before the King and made him a
speech which I warrant you was a good one,
I have n't said a word about your departure from
Boston, I did n't know when the vessel was to sail,
but I went over to E, Boston and found she had
gone, I found by the paper that you had an abun
dant attendance of literary friends — and I rather
think you found the huUaballoo agreeable enough.
I am glad that I did n't go with them and also glad
that I made the pilgrimage to the wharf — or
rather near to it ; for a man told me the steamer had
gone. You know you disliked the idea of the row they
were going to make, but I should think that with
the provision made against speeches, you might
have quite enjoyed it. A Uttle honorary powder,
too, is n't a bad thing. Thence our expression of a
man's malting some noise in the world,
Cambridge is in a primaeval condition, 'bating
the forest and some other particulars. Perhaps I
ought to say the soUtude is primaeval. The fmit
men give the principal signs of vitality. Peaches,

140 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
is the great cry at present, three quaats for a
quaater. I have been to Princeton (a week),
Charles Ware's ten days; with C. W. Storey, at his
son's house in Brookline, 2 days. I have been
pretty low down in the forties, to speak figuratively
and have had maybe a foretaste of wearmess of
life some of the time. But what's the use of being
a phUosopher unless you have material to phUos-
ophize upon? Notwithstanding this melancholy
statement, I went last Wednesday to a clambake
near Providence with J. B. and laid on like a Cos
sack, as J. B. did also. We had thought of going to
Newport but it rauied and we came home.
I have been just now looking at some of the
colonial squabbles in Dudley's time. I find under
1690, "the MaUgnant party, the Torys in Boston,
Charlestown," etc. Under 1707, a Tory defender
of Dudley quotes from a Whig assailant the fol
lowing: "We shall not recriminate here the mis
management of the then Governour Sir Edmond
Andross, since that gentleman is now in a future
state," He appreciates the statement and prints
now large.
You went away I think before President Eliot's
engagement came out? No, I think not. It quite
recalled the primitive Cambridge to have an item
circulate so universally and so briskly.
You tapped the spring of Sibley's gratitude when
you commemorated his generosity, at the Com
mencement dinner. I have always hoped he would

TO J. R. LOWELL 141
get his allowance of sugar, and this is the first time
to my knowledge. If so it was high time. He had
set the hymn^ so many years, with but a bare in
stant of solo before he was drowned in the brazen
roar — he had listened so many years to those
thanatophorous, thanatethical reports which they
used to take foranafter dinner diversion and never
had heard "Our popular praecentor John Lang
don Sibley," or "Our indefatigable antiquarian
J. L. S.," causing his very "7rsa7rt8(e?9t)" which I
shaU translate gizzard, to leap within him. What a
soft flood of delight poured over him as his ears al
most against beUef reported to him your delicate
but ample compliment, and the friendly mug' i/us and
strepitus that foUowed gave public and far-reaching
sanction to your words. I think he wiU never forget
it nor his gratitude.
I have given J, B, your remembrances and shall
do the same by Choate.^ He is commorant at Bev
erly just now. Sears is there with his yacht, and I
hope they are having fine times.
Carter is in statu quo — I don't see him much.
Susan reports having enjoyed your society several
days. She is staying at her father's just now.
We have had a great deal of dogday weather, very
pronounced — warm, sticky, mighty unpleasant.
' John L. Sibley, the CoUege Librarian, for many years, always
led the singing of Psalm 78 at the Harvard College Commencement
Dinner. » Charles F. Choate, Harvard A.B. 1849; President of the Old
Colony R.R. Co.; a near neighbor of Bartlett's on Brattle Street.

142 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
I may come out to Europe bye and bye, don't
know. When you find leisure to write me again
please teU me that Mrs. Lowell is aU right again,
which I infer now. Give my particular kind regards
to her and tell her she must learn to talk Spanish
like a native — that would be a fine trophy for her
to bring home. I shall try to find your address as
Minister — settled minister. I wish you would
send it to me.
It is evening, the crickets are rosining their bows
— will begin directly.
The succory is in force — what a beautiful blue
it is! I hope that you are going to find Spain very
pleasant. To Professor James B. Thayer^
January 29, 1878.
My dear Mr. Thayer, —
I think I have read enough of the Letters of
Chauncey Wright, ^ to write you a rational letter of
thanks, but though rational it must be profoundly
unintellectual, I told you how I sat up with C. W. (in the old
house) till my illumination was exhausted, and we
sat in darkness — how he early developed a pur
pose of descending into the metaphysical abyss
and how he disappeared as down a well, while I sat
1 James B. Thayer (1831-1902), Harvard A.B. 1852, Professor of
Law, Harvard Law School.
^ Chauncey Wright, Harvard A.B. 1852, died in 1875; an ingenious
metaphysician, whose Memoir was written by J. B. Thayer.

TO J, R, LOWELL 143
on the brink and listened to his stiU receding voice.
Where he left me then, qua metaphysics, I find my
self now. I know little about them; I only have a
feeUng sometimes when a man goes into very sub
tle disquisition, as if he were trying to lift himself
by his waistband — as if he were chasing some idea
that would not quite be caught and became ob
scured by the multitude of elaborate and circuitous
terms used to entrap it. Of course my estimate of
C. W.'s philosophical talent is formed on the report
of competent observers.
I thought I saw in his mathematical talent, and
his juggling skUl, and accuracy, a brain calculated
to deal with any subtleties, — ergo, with meta
physics. I think that you have handled the whole matter
of constructing the book admirably, and can well
believe that it gave you a great deal of labor.
With many thanks Yours, John Holmes.
To J, R, Lowell
Cambridge, March 6, 1878.
It is not any scruple on the "order of our going,"
i.e. on the sequence of letter and answer, that has
kept me from writing to you so long, I received
yours of August 5 and sent an answer which I hope
you received. At about the end of October I had
an extraordinary access of lameness, without any

144 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
sufficient cause that I could see, and began to con
clude that the old knee had finally broken down, —
but after some two months or more I began to
mend, to my most agreeable surprise, and am now
in statu quo or better, but I was for a considerable
time in a state of mild despair, getting only short
allowance of exercise, and my mind was little better
than a law blank — a series of dry clauses with gaps
between. Now that I am better I shaU be pleased enough
to write you anything that wUl pleasantly stir up
the embers of your Cambridge patriotism. But I
can no longer write as the expert whist-player, and
convivialist, the bon comarado of a parcel of young
sters — the phUosopher who emerges for whist —
the whist-player who knmures himself for phil
osophy. But I declare, James, now that I 've that
venerable title — $tXoso^os, on paper, I blush to
think of appropriating it in such famiUar style.
WeU, of myself, it's precious Uttle that I have to
teU you. I have staid in mostly during the day and
made my caUs in the evening. I dined on Thanks
giving day with J. B, and on Christmas with
0, W, H,, Jr. at his lodgings, where he managed to
entertain at the same time two EngUshmen — a
tutor and his youngster — both young men who
were gomg to travel via Mexico and Panama to Cal
ifornia, and come back via Union Pacific R.R. this
summer. I made myself as jolly as I possibly could
seeing that the Englishmen had a something wooden

TO J. R. LOWELL 145
about them — in their capacity of strangers. They
seem to me in looking back like men who had been
badly enchanted and were gradually recovering
the use of their limbs and faculties — and I was
actually reminded — though it seems very classical
for me — of the eiScoXoi/ afiajx^ov, which was sent to
give words of cheer to Penelope. It seems to me a
great mistake for strangers to approach transient
friendly intercourse in that way. It seems to me
that under the safeguard of conventionality, they
ought to be free and easy and cordial at first, cool
ing off as they find occasion. This was called a
lunch but I took the liberty to make a comfortable
dinner of it, and departed for Cambridge in a state
of easy contentment and charity with aU mankind.
I went to the marriage of Choate's daughter^ in
September which I doubt not has been fully de
scribed to Mrs. LoweU, if not to you.
The garniture of flowers was on a great scale,
and the effect I thought very pretty. It was at the
Memorial Chapel (as you know I suppose).
Choate is now President of the Old Colony R.R,
and we may presume relieved of his hard work at
the law.
. . . Early in January I went to Mr. WUliam
Read's golden wedding, and enjoyed it a good deal
although I had not gained much on my lameness
then. It had a neighborhood effect about it which
is rare I think in Camb. Old friends and unme-
> To J. Montgomery Sears.

146 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
diate neighbors were asked — and in the supper
room, aided by moderate draughts of the rosy, I
found something resembling old Cantabrigity.
Carter came on, I think it was at Christmas time
— it was thought, to stay the winter, but Susan
took him home say some six weeks ago. He stayed
with Mrs. Lamb, who has taken the house next
E, Longfellow's — Lowell Carter lives there. Car
ter was in about the same condition as before.
Henry Ware, I am sorry to say, is ousted from
the Public Library in Boston, to stay however tUl
May, by which tune I hope his removal will have
been reconsidered.
Mr. Charles Vaughan died about a month since —
suddenly, after shovelling snow — a very good man,
I have scarcely seen Choate at all since his
daughter's wedding. I omitted to mention M, H.'s
marriage to Curtis,^ son of the Judge, which took
place in October at the Orthodox Church, Bishop
Huntington assisting Mr. McKenzie — a very nice
wedding, of which Mrs. L. has probably heard from
the H.'s 
J. B. finds the Van Brunts^ exceedingly agreeable
neighbors, and is quite intimate with them.
Richard Dana, 3d, was married to Miss Edith
Longfellow a month or so ago at Appleton Chapel —
a great company and a heavy rainstorm.
' B. R. Curtis, Jr., Harvard A.B. 1875.
2 Henry Van Brunt, Harvard A.B. 1854, architect, had recently
built a residence next to John Bartlett's.

TO J, R. LOWELL 147
I have been comparatively little to J. B.'s since
you left. I am very glad that he has Van Brunt so
near him. He bought some 4000 (I think) feet of
land of the Wellses, — the old fence is taken down,
and he can go by the garden walk to the V. B.'s
when he pleases.
I caUed a few minutes last evening at my neigh
bor, EUiott's, who is himseff at the West. She felt
quite sad over a fact that I have not yet mentioned.
The Doctor has faUed. ... I am glad to say that
the Doctor is said to be more cheerful now than he
has been under the load which he carried.
I don't know the particulars of the case but am
led to suppose that the coal-mine has been the
principal weight. I have seen the Doctor since —
he is quiet and manly about it as we should expect.
I wiU write you again ff there is anything you
would wish to hear.
MeanwhUe, with kindest regards to Mrs, LoweU,
Yours affectionately.
To J, R. Lowell
Cambridge, June 14, 1878,
I know weU that I ought to have written you
long since, — on receipt of yours, — a local, patri
otic letter, savory with Cambridge allusions and
incident. Alas that I should have been such a
dumb waiter.
But I am delocalised and demoraUsed by the
desertion of my friends, who have aU gone ministers

148 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
to Spain, or one thing or other, and left me a with
ered trunk to dry in my native sand. J. B. is the
only one remaining who has the Cambridge smack
to hun which he has acquired by long and faith
ful residence. Henry Ware hath some pretensions,
but too young, too young, a mere boy. I am sure
you agree with me.
Then there's Choate, who has inward apprecia
tions, and good Cantabrigian instincts, but is taci
turn, and as yet of tender years. What you and
I want is ripe, local men of lU)eral tendencies and
virtuous habits, with just enough relish for other
people's sins to give a flavor to their own virtue.
Above aU things we demand men of entirely settled
habits, even extending to narrative — nor would
we ask liberality on this score. A Charles XII
iron-headedness on this point is a part of the pro
gramme. Some Uttle badge of identity such as
wearing the hat far back on the head, aut ai, is not
objectionable. I think also that we approve of one
who is content to ambulate mostly in a circle of a
mUe radius, the hearth-stone of course being the
centre. A group of such men entirely at leisure,
but each with some unaginary task (perennial) to
tone down the briUiancy of life's hohday, could
desipere to purpose. But alas there is some element
always wanting — even at a picnic people forget
something, and we cannot find the general aUot
ment of leisure, needed for our proposed perpetual
vacation.

TO J, R, LOWELL 149
But this is a strange fancy picture to present to a
man hard at work in an honorable function. You
and I are I suppose, two of the most industrious
men now extant — you in esse and I in posse and
not aU posse either. Now don't go and say 'possum
— your conscience won't let you do it.
But I must begin and talk Cambridge. There's
the mb. I can tell you but little except about my
own superquiet life, but that, though, will bring in
what I have to tell about J. B. and the rest of our
friends. Last summer I went to Dr. Ware's at Rindge as
usual — to a clam bake on Narragansett Bay with
J. B. — to Mattapoisett a week or so, at 0. W. H.
Jr.'s. This winter I have not been to anything,
to plays, etc, in Cambridge nor to the theatre in
Boston. Some time before January, they got up
some lectures at the vestry to raise a small fund,
and Mr. Peabody asked me to give one of them,
I told him I could only venture on Cambridge
reminiscences. To give such a topic any sort of
chance, for an audience mostly of very recent peo
ple, I made it out that a boy who had attended at
the old meetinghouse tiU 1821 was shipwrecked in
that year on his first venture to sea, being cast on
one of the most remote islands possible to conceive
of and that he was but very lately rescued by a
venerable navigator, a contemporary, who like him
self had attended at the old meetin'us, and had
kept up an intercalary connection with Cambridge

150 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
to this day, by residing here when on shore. I made
the two recumbent under a cocoanut tree — and
Captain Crojick, finding that his friend (who of
course in such sohtude had remained pretty much
a boy of fourteen) expected to find the Old Cam
bridge and people of 1821, put him through a course
of questioning as to his recollections, which devel
oped the matter I was upon satisfactorily, and with
some little episodical ornaments which helped along.
The jetsam quondam Cambridge boy also gave a
brief Robinson Crusoe narrative of his own. This
went off quite pleasantly. John Hopkinson read it
for me, I not venturing" the experiment.
So far so good, but early in the spring, Satan,
waiting outside the Old South, intercepted some of
the Committee and suggested to them to ask me to
deliver an 0, South lecture. Hence came to me dis
comfiture and woe, I thought to talk a little about
the Puritans, as a subject I had some little famil
iarity with. After a skimble-skamble exordium not
specially apropos to anything which HoweUs
thought good enough, I tried the didactic — to
foreshorten history down to a neat forty-five-
minute perspective; but I found myself so wofuUy
dull that, after destroying material enough for a
stunning (in the homicidal sense) history of it,
England, I found myself on the eve of the event
ful day with a beggarly fragment — which I got
Underwood to read. And so my farthing candle
was extinguished. What difference between dis-

TO J. R, LOWELL 151
and ex-tinguished. I could n't get off, because I
had been announced.
Since that event my views with regard to the
preservation of the Old South have undergone a
material change.
And all those who have lectured successfuUy for
0. S. seem to me now painfully compromised by
the inherent absurdity of the enterprise.
J. B. ambulates pleasantly along the asphalt
sidewalk of life, going down to the Cape now and
then, and returning to tell how narrowly he has
escaped acute rheumatism from the truculent
winds in that quarter.
I sometimes — but very rarely — go up and
take a vltt with him, you know what a vlv is? it is
water, a little demoralized or, as some heretics have
it, it is usquebaugh vitiated by water,
I go at long intervals to see Choate, who is now
President of the Old Colony R.R, I wonder I did n't
write it Old South R.R.
Carter came on on the 1st June to live at Mrs,
Lamb's (next E. Longfellow's). He seems much as
he was before.
I walked this morning down HilUard Street and
to the causeway where you get the Brighton-
Brookline view. It was mighty pretty. I should
have Uked to have you for a co-looker — an old
friend helps you to sweep away the sense of change
that pervades everything.
I wonder whether Mrs. Lowell examines the

152 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
world from her window as she did in Paris, It was
a very sensible idea to systematize her surveys
and report home, I warrant she got many a nice
picture. You must give my kindest regards to her and
teU her that I don't know how better to show my
good wUl than by solemnly enjoining her to look
out sharp against rheumatism, which I trust no
longer affects her. And James, when you get to be
eighty-four, I hope you will decline to stand on
pubUc occasions with your hat off as Mr, Bryant
did,i . . .
In the Journal this morning I found a letter from
"Holyoke," no, from South Hadley, beginning
thus : —
" Our honored poet LoweU must have caught the
inspiration of his 'Vision,' found in aU young
ladies' albums, from some such scene," etc, etc.
I also enclose a piece from the Journal touching
"Minister LoweU." How many good old ladies of
your father's parish seeing that heading exclaimed,
"There! he's settled! I always said he'd be a min
ister bye and bye,"
I saw Charles Norton, it may be a month since,
who represented his mother's condition pleasantly
to me — although her mind is impaired.
The proprietress of No, 5 Appian Way wishes to
be remembered to you.
I send you the hearty greetings and well-wishing
1 William Cullen Bryant, American poet, had just died.

TO EDWARD J. HOLMES 153
of the Club. I shall have this ratified by the indi
viduals solenmly, and promise to warn you if there
is the least failure in readiness or heartiness, which
makes it as good as under seal. I send to Mrs.
Lowell also from the Club, such greeting as befits
an Honorary member to receive.
I really thought I had got to the last page, and
I am glad there is more room. And now have I
omitted anything. , . .
And so with kindest regards to Mrs, Lowell,
I am affectionately
Your old friend, J. H.
To Edward J, Holmes^
Cambridge, October 15, 1878,
My dear Edward, —
When you went off I had heard from your father
that you desired to have no attendance of friends,
I got the same idea from J, R, L, about himself
when he spoke of the bobbery they were going to
make, he being forewarned thereof oflTicially, Let
this account for the absence of one white head
from the ocean strand on that day.
I have sympathized and rejoiced when I found
that you had evaded the grasp of the wheezing
fiend and were having the full enjoyment of the
breath of life. TeU your wife that regardless of the
grades of affinity I involve her and the little Ned
in the same complication of good wishes that I
* Holmes's nephew, who had gone abroad for his health.

154 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
have woven for you; I hope that each and every
of them may take effect on your health and pros
perity — of all of you.
If I should tell you the things I have not done
since you left your native shore — the work I have
not effected, it would make a vast and instmctive
volume of potentialities and impossibUities.
I have enclosed a Uttle letter to Ned jr., pretty
creature that he is, which I hope wiU impart a
streak of social and kindly feeling to his little bosom
in behalf of young Puffer, who seems a youth of
ingenuous mind with small means of literary pro
pulsion which he has improved as well as could be
expected. His sporadic residences with collaterals
may enlarge his knowledge of human nature but I
think are adverse to his progress as a scholar.
"Youth is the seed-time of life," is what the old
clock in Andover Academy used to say to the boys
— its motto, I hope you have been sowing yours
thick with good healthy pleasures, and if you wiU
write me ever so briefly to that effect I will take
it as a receipt in full for my two caUigraphies now
forwarded. Perhaps I need not tell you that a large gymna
sium (brick) is going up and just clears the front
view from our old house, which has consequently
(i.e. the proximity — not the salve to the view) been
evacuated in disgust by WiUiam Everett, and Pro
fessor Thayer is to occupy it. Also that the house
quondam Professor Pierce's has ambulated pleas-

TO J. R. LOWELL 155
antly across the fields, and its space is to be occu
pied by the new Sever Building.
Also that the Jacobs and Rebeccas have met at
^he well as of old, and the patriarchs and matri
archs have looked on and approved, and that pleas
ant weddings have resulted, some of which I have
attended as a sentimental amateur.
And so wishing you all health and happiness,
I sign myself Your affectionate uncle
John Holmes.
To j. R, Lowell
Cambridge, March 6, 1879.
I sit me down this mornmg to write you a letter.
Yes, actually a letter; and considering the time I
have been about it I should not wonder if you were
a little surprised on your part to seemy xcpoy/jai^ta
(chirography), I can't tell you myself how I can have kept pen
off paper so long, much less describe to you the
curious sort of moral impossibility for me to write.
And this too in face of your kind invitation to visit
you. Perhaps though this was the first cause of my
disabiUty — for I found it hard to teU you how
hard it would be for me to leave home for the win
ter — to become a Spaniard and have to go to the
Auto da fe or be twisted into a letter S by the
Inquisition. When I heard of your iU health (from
which I am heartily rejoiced that you have recov-

156 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
ered) I knew what the trouble was, I have n't read
Fox's "Martyrs" for nothing, I knew you had
been in their hands, but mum 's the word, I have n't
of course suggested it to your friends. I suppose
you have come to an understanding with them now
and are secure from roprvpe (torture), (I write it
in Greek for our private use.) A word to the wise —
no more on that subject.
Methinks, James, that if I had enjoyed free am
bulation, I could not have helped telling you when
I went up by your place and maybe down by the
New Road, by Simon's HiU with the Old Bath
on my right suggestive of long past catastrophes.
Yea, and if I had turned by Squire Bigelow's, and
had passed the "Canal" on which Edward Bridge
of that day played the bold 4>cenician, and upset his
tub, while his mother, in the background, adjured
and threatened by turns; and if, turning, I had then
passed the dwelling of Wm, Warland on the left,
and of Dames Bridge and Wright and of Hersey
on my right, and have gone to Brighton Bridge or
College Wharf with a vision purged of all modern
circumstance — if I had done this, methinks,'! must
have sent report of my visions to you, I should
have thmst them well back into a time when you
could not criticise, could only admu-e, a time when
thou wast a puling babe.
But alas, I have made no such ambulations. I
have learned to move in very small circles — to
pace round the Common, or partially — and there,

TO J, R, LOWELL 157
must I confess it to you? I have become in some
slight degree wonted — shall I say it? — to mod
ern change. Monday, March 10.
As I proceed I declare to you, James, that I feel
something vindicated in my long silence — all is
preface to here, and what have I to teU you? Let
us see. About myself, that autumn and winter I
have walked very regularly in the common after
breakfast, that my neighbor Elliott, when at home,
has walked often with me, and that latterly James
Howe has also tumed out, making a formidable
body of 3,000 men — that numeration is correct,
is n't it? Some six weeks or more since, Elliott went
via Cincinnati to Nebraska where he has under
taken to raise cattle, or leastwise to fatten them —
and one morning James Howe told me he had an
invitation from Baltimore to go in a saiUng ship to
Flio, and he went for N, York the same afternoon.
So that we are now but 1,000 (I have some doubts
about the action of my decimal point).
This walking and my day at home employed in
persuading myself that I am an industrious citizen,
and my little round of evening caUs (the circuit now
contracted) make up my record, with occasional
runs to Boston to diversify. ... To come down to
present time, I dined at J. B.'s one Saturday two or
three weeks since with Thayer, Lane, Van Brunt
and C. W. S., who is careful and comparatively

158 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
vigorous this winter. He dined with me Saturday,
day before yesterday, and J. B,, who could n't
come to dinner, came in afterward. I went a week
last Friday to George Putnam's to a high tea — it
was a very high tea. We were Wentworth Higgin-
son^ and new wife, J. B. and wife, Mrs. Simmons
(sister-in-law of Thayer) and daughter, Mrs. Child,
and Anne Buttrick. It was very pleasant to be
among so familiar a set, though in thte case of Went
worth and wife, a savor of novelty. He, Wentworth,
has taken up his abode in Cambridge in house
quondam Rev, Wm, Ware's. We all had, I can say
confidently, a very pleasant time, indeed !
I have been twice to the Arsenal Theatre, now
quite an established institution. The second time
was last Thursday to hear (and see) Wm, Everett's
Operetta, which went off very weU at this fourth
representation; was very well attended, Mr, Long
fellow there, among the rest.
Such a letter as this smacks of old age, does n't
it? not in its very simple ideas I tmst, but in its
very limited range — its non record of gay visions,
or athletic {quasi athletic) experiences. I don't tell
you "how I went with Bowler and Bangs and
Buster down to Point Shirley, and how we agreed
to walk back and met Old Blowhard on the way —
made us go home with him — never started from
his house tiU 3, — home by 51, did n't go to bed at
1 In the autumn of 1878, Colonel T. W. Higginson returned to
Cambridge to live.

TO J. R. LOWELL 159
all — did n't want to," More likely to say, "caUed
in at Slopsters' — they at tea — took one cup
(rather strong for me), tried half a glass of his
currant wine being hard pressed; pleasant talk,
and by mistake of time not home tiU 10,10, in bed
at 10.15, or aU together, Mem. To take nothing
whatever after my dinner!" It was you who used
to tell us of the Club in Boston, where the members
used to call for tea and barley water and the like.
Waldo Higginson was teUing me a little while ago
about two old gentlemen who went to Stockbridge
— both I think born there or familiar there when
very young. They had a man to drive them about
in a wagon — the two seniors on the back seat.
They were in a high state of contentment, each
averring that he did n't feel a day older than during
his young perambulations, — when the driver (very
possibly irritated by this senile self-satisfaction)
gave the horse a cut, and both the " old gents " went
out over the taU of the wagon. They survived — but
never to [be] juvenUe again — poor feUows, — my
sympathies are with them,
I went to visit William Upham ^ about a week
since, who has bought a farm about 5 miles from
Salem. He has a meadow, flowed and of course
frozen. I saw a pair of skates, and told WilUam that
I should Uke just to try the experiment of being on
skates again after thirty years or so, I was very
modest about it, — made no professions of abiUty,
* His nephew, son of Charles W. Upham.

160 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
but in my mind proposed to vindicate the old school
by a pretty vigorous sortie. We went to the pond.
I sat on a rail aut al. while WUliam bored my heels
to accommodate the modern screw. All was done
— the skates were on, and I rose, closely attended
by WUliam (who may have formed his own esti
mate of my skating talent). If you'll believe it,
my feet showed an invincible desire to seek the
zenith, I could hardly believe it myseff. — Finally,
with William's hold of my arm and assuming a
very curved posture, I skated about 3 rods, or less,
leaving the oblique cuts as witnesses of the deed.
You ought to have been there — you would have
enjoyed it to the top of your bent, I could n't help
being vastly amused though foiled on the athletic
point, and rather disappointed. Tuesday, March 11.
We are having the weather of early April — mud
plenty but not deep — snow almost gone. So far
methinks it has been the finest autumn and winter
that I remember. A great peculiarity has been, if I
have noted rightly, the very great amount of calm
weather through both seasons, that I seem to have
no memory of the aggressive winds that rob caloric
and make forcible impression upon body and mind.
At the present time, this is at least the fourth day
without noticeable wind. . . .
You will have heard of the deaths of Mrs.
Dr, Walcott, Mrs, Palmer, Mr. Batchelder at] 94,

TO J, R. LOWELL 161
Capt, Hastings, 87, and lastly of Carter, — who
died Saturday February 15 early in the morning.
Doubtless Mrs, Carter informed you of it, but I
will briefly mention the circumstances, and tell you
about him, latterly. He has stayed at Mrs, Lamb's,
corner Willard Street, next Ernest Longfellow's,
this winter, I have called on him now and then and
have found him very quiet — less interested about
things in general than formerly — asking little about
out-of-door matters in Cambridge, He for three or
four months, perhaps more, had done little more
in the way of excursion than take the car to Boston
in the afternoon and back without leaving it. I
called on him one forenoon in November and found
him in bed — he had had a bad night. The doctor
had been caUed, but as he had taken some black
coffee the night or day before, one readily imputed
his heart disturbance to that, I have heard since
that he once had a bad time at Dieppe, After this
turn that I have mentioned, I heard no more of any
special trouble till his death. Mrs. Lamb says that
he had seemed better, and on the evening before
his death, was very cheerful. J, B. had given him
some work — to make selections from Webster's
writings — which pleased hun greatly, I think how
ever she mentions his feeling some little uneasiness
when he went to bed. He rang a bell he had by
hun for Mrs. Lamb somewhere about 12, She found
him much distressed and did what she could —
put on a mustard poultice and finally 'gave him

162 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
his usual dose of ten drops of laudanum and tucked
the bedclothes about him and went out to warm
herself — came in again and all seemed right —
waited to catch the mUkman to go for the doctor —
went m again perhaps about 3, and found him dead
— apparently without any movement at aU — the
bedclothes remaining as she had arranged them and
the position such as she had left him in — the
hands not stirred apparently.
The funeral took place on Wednesday 19th in
the forenoon. Doctor Gray of the Episcopal Sem
inary read the service (in Mrs, Lamb's house). The
Doctor, H, Ware and Cranch, Geo, Nichols, Owen
and two or three other men, Mary Elliot, Mary
Howe, and perhaps one or two more besides those
of the Nichols family — yes, one of the Miss Par
sons. LoweU Carter and Charles were there — the
latter from Iowa where he is paymaster on some
railroad. The Doctor, Cranch and I went up to
the grave. H. Ware was too ill with a cold. I
thought you might like to have me be thus partic
ular in telUng you. It seems that Carter had
arranged all his papers and matters perfectly. A
sketch of his life appeared in the "Literary World"
on the day that he died.
They found hun very amiable at Mrs. Lamb's,
and seemed to have become very fond of him, I
think in his social aspect he never appeared to
better advantage than in these last few months, as
a venerable gentle old man.

TO J, R, LOWELL 163
You see that there has been an unusual depletion
in our neighborhood. The deaths were in the order
in which I have put them except that Carter's came
between Mr. Batchelder's and Capt. Hastings'.
Before any of them — about the middle of Janu
ary — Michael Norton departed. You know of
him — yes, surely — you know he had been very
industrious and thrifty and had got an independ
ence by^forty, and was inclined to give an additional
chance to thieves and moths, by still accumulating.
It seems that in the highflown times now so well
over, he took second mortgages, and the great
depreciation swallowed his investments, whereon
he pined, dwindled to a chUdish state and died. Let
us not be hard on him even though he might be
somewhat hard. He had no chUdren and his
treasures took the place of them. He had housed
and fed them and seen them grow under his care,
and whatever outside — they had always a smile
for him. Bonds and mortgages seemed to rise like
olive branches around his table and call him blessed.
They seemed to say, "Let us repay thee for thy
care," and little innocent gold dollars in a stocking
or silver change in a teapot, — perhaps you and I
should yearn over such a hoard if we had ever been
led to make one.
If you should write me some of these days, you
could tell me if there was anything special that you
wished to hear about and I would write you,
I don't know that such a letter as this can help

164 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
you to make pictures of Old Cambridge much — I
don't have many visions of 0. C, myself.
You must give my very kindest regards to Mrs.
LoweU who no doubt speaks Spanish freely by this
time, I have heard of your election into the Academy, ^
and with such a pleasant circumstance and a now,
pretty long residence I can't but think you must be
quite happy.
If you should write me to that effect, I would
make some little pilgrimages about Cambridge and
report when the weather improves into something
Uke spring. Meanwhile I am ever.
Yours affectionately,
I went last evening with J, B. to caU on Went
worth Higginson, newly married and living in
Rev. Wm. Ware's quondam house; played whist tiU
11, a most remarkable thing, J. B. sends his very
tiptop regards and I send Choate's and if he does n't
ratify my message I wUl let you know.
To C. W. Storey
Cambridge, April 30, 1879.
My dear Charles, —
I came to your office a week yesterday to get you,
when lo! the young men said: "He lieth by the
Brook Kishan under the shadow of Mount Gilboa.
' The Royal Spanish Academy at Madrid.

TO C. W. STOREY 165
The Gouttims and the Rumtums lay in wait for
him, and have pierced his foot with a dart, that he
Ueth in his tent and crieth unto them that pass,
'Ho! what tidings be there by land or by sea that
I may refresh my soul therewith? For lo! I am
weary. Give me tobboc (77117171)1 that I may smoke.'
Then come his wife and his little ones, and do tend
on him and cherish hun that he crieth out aloud,
and singeth a new song.
"The Gouttim and the Rumtum did waylay me
They shot me in the foot
The young men brought me home
My bed was as brambles
I rested not for pain
And 1 said I am sore afflicted
I walk not, but lie as a babe
The snail mocketh at me and saith
Go to ! wilt thou run a race with me?
As a fee, feemounted; with aspect double
Or testament that goes forth ambulatory
That man hears of, but sees walking never
So am I in my tent, hid in red flannel
Strange and not visible, but 1 walk not like them
While I cry thus, cometh my spouse Lizbet
Ever kind and consoling with kind sister Mary
Cometh Moful, and Maran and little Sosec
They so beset me with kindly attention
As crowded my griefs out, and I sat up and sang
Oh for a blow at the Gouttim and Rumtum 1
Where be my weapons — my senna, my manna
Soul-searching Tarrant — flashing Chloral
Hoist my red flannel banner — Have at them
Soon they shall fly shrieking — soon lie flaccid
Cloven, shattered, busted, and I rising gaily
Will run victorious » Chaldee.

166 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Chase and catch the horse-cars
Also the steam, if I care to
Will dance round dances — also square ones
Enter for foot races — carry off prizes.
So I sang — at this juncture they passed me my chloral
And I slept, or we'd had a good family choral."
To J. R, Lowell
Cambridge, September 27, 1879.
I write to teU you how sorry I am for the trouble
you are in and that I hope it will soon come to a
favorable end.
I met President Eliot a week ago in the car and
he was wishing you back,
Choate, J, B., and the residue of our world here,
are going on as usual. C. has been at Marblehead
all summer, J. B. has made excursions from Cam^
bridge headquarters.
He gave three Plymouth girls — nay four — a
week's trip to White Mountains, — J. patron, and
H. matron, to the party. He is furiously at work on
a new-plan index to Shakespeare. ^
The new house for the Dean of the Episcopal
School is finished — pretty nearly — it is just east
of the chapel,
I send this little note to express sympathy and it
is by no means confined to me. If I don't hear
particularly from or about you, I shall run the risk
of writing a prolix and 'perhaps inapposite letter.
Meanwhile your affectionate friend.
* The Shakespeare Phrase Book.

' TO J. R. LOWELL 167
To J, R, Lowell
Cambridge, November 12, 1879.
I take pleasure in thinking that your situation is
much improved by this time ; — in other words that
Mrs, LoweU is much better, I have not heard of
any want of health on your part lately and trust
there has been none. There has been all the time a
report of Mrs. LoweU's health circulating here and
generally I think a correct one.
MabeP was kind enough to write me a note teU
ing me of her decided improvement.
So that now I hope I see the dawn of a better
tune for you both, when past misery shall only
sharpen your appreciation of present happiness.
Let me try now to infuse into a short letter some
thing of the home flavor that so refreshes the
sojourner in a strange land (Here I want a word.
Gale, zephyr, blast, whiff. Suppose we weld the
Latin root and Teutsch form together and say
"flast," equivalent in force to "whiff" but having
a gentle self-impelling power which whiff has not.)
I should like then to send you a flast from one
of our old-fashioned beds of herbs — sage, thyme,
winter and summer savory and the like, or a mild
exhalation from oozy Charles, or a flastula of pine
cone or a flastulUula from Craigie's placid pool.
But perhaps I should unduly agitate the home
associations. Now then let us turn to the weather.
* Lowell's daughter, Mrs. Edward Burnett.

168 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
... I never have been one, nor you, who depre
ciated and abused the weather as a topic. It is
beautiful, salutary, large, as a subject; — adapt
able to every degree of intellect, and extending
itself to embrace the interests of the larger family
circle, of town, neighborhood, state and country.
It is therefore really a cosmopolitan theme. It only
becomes petty when reduced to its lowest topical
grade, — to measuring inches of local wind and the
like. Even then it is a mild and healthy irritant
to the social system. It seems to me that people
hardly appreciate the value of the mere mental
irritant, irrespective of its inteUectual value. If our
friend Doctor Johnson could have enacted Robin
son Crusoe for a year or so (and should n't we have
liked to hear him talk to his parrot and his goats?)
how gladly would he have discussed with his fellow
flotsam a little loggerheaded cabin boy, suppose
just above zero mentally, every phase of wind and
weather, now caressing him as his sole social frag
ment and now piling him with thundering denunci
ations for his stupidity. Probably, in the absence
of all means of comparison he would attribute
quite a respectable intellect to his companion. "Sir,"
he would say when he had arrived back at Bolt
Court, " Sir, Billy was not a fool. He could not, it is
true, disintegrate and analyze heterogeneous masses
of fact, he could not generalize nor was he eminent
for accuracy in any department of truth ; but Sir,
he could reciprocate specific ideas which my ani-

TO J, R. LOWELL 169
mais could not do, and Sir, I now look back with
pleasure to many conversations that I have held
with him on the weather and the more obvious
celestial phoenomena and. Sir, in one department
at least Billy displayed ingenuity, I could never
find a place for my goatsmilk cheeses that was
secure from his investigations. He was a boy of
unbounded gulosity and, Sir, it was that that oc
casioned his death three days before my happy
deliverance," Then would follow an explosion of
grief. But where in the meantime is our weather re
port? One day we had in June that reminded me of you
stretched on those cruel gridirons, and taking your
Uttle griU for your soul's good. But mum's the
word about that. I never have said a word about
the ivKVL'STLov to anybody, I always call it gout or
rheumatism. But on the whole the summer was
rather cool. September likewise. But then out
stepped gallant old Uncle October with one fist full
of sunshine and the other on the nozzle of the
iEolian windbag. He was ashamed of the churlish
behavior of his elder brother (old Sep), and there
he stood with a pleasant smile dropping one golden
day after another down to earth. We had a won
derful succession of very fine, clear, warm days. I
don't remember a single hazy Indian summer day
through this season. Then in November again we
have had a premature flurry or two of snow which

170 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
thawed off here but I think in the country must
have remained, it was so deep. My friend Doctor
Ware went to his house at West Rindge the other
day and waded to his knees in snow.
I have as usual been to West Rindge this summer
and to Mattapoisett, but I have also taken what
with my stationary habit I may consider an im
mense voyage, i.e. from Portland to Mt. D, I have
been to Mt. Desert! and bounced about in buck-
boards with young people at a great rate, I found
Cambridge folk too at the house where I stayed,
the Fosters (at whose suggestion I made the excur
sion), Mrs, Swan and daughters, Mrs, AUyn and
Abbot Vaughan, etc, etc, I never fell in with many
Cambridge people before in my travels.
Some one told me that the Hayeses had counted
a great number of herons.
I think I must intercalate a leaf, I have made
out to tell you so very little in so large a space. All
goes on here with the usual quietness, J, B, has got
his steam up and is working zealously on his new
book, a Shakespeare concordance, on a" new plan,
Choate finds a great deal of business to do as
President of the 0. C. Railroad, I have not caUed
on him since his return from his summer stay at
Marblehead (I believe it was). Dunham Hedge
died some two months ago. I believe I have told
you every time I have written of Michael Norton's
death. Probably also of Mr. Batchelder's and Cap
tain Hastings's, but it's no harm to impress the

TO J. R, LOWELL 171
necrology on your memory. The doctor goes quietly
along — he is treasurer of the New York and N.
England railroad as well as of the Gas Co. . . .
Palmer reads the Odyssey in Harvard, and I
think Child reads Chaucer. ^ They are going to
have four or five subscription concerts at Sanders
Theatre this winter, as last. The Gymnasium is
nearly or quite finished. Sever Hall has got to its
growth as they say — in point of height — and
will be a handsome building. It is to have orna
mental mouldings done in the brick itself.
With regard to our local market (in Appian Way)
I think myself that "pie apples" have been over
done and are rather languid. "Rags" continue
steady. If I had made any perambulations lately I
should tell you of them but I have taken almost all
my walks close about home or in Boston.
I hope, my dear James, that this chaotic letter
will find both you and Mrs. Lowell so well, that
both can bear with equanunity its erratic tedious
ness. I send kind remembrances and love from
J. B. and C. C, and if they don't ratify it I will let
you know.
Don't feel constrained to answer this — no, not
in the least. Is n't "tace" Latin for a candle, A
word to the wise. My kindest regards and con
gratulations to Mrs, LoweU on her improvement.
1 Professors G. H. Palmer and F. J. Child gave evening readings,
open to the public.

172 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
To J, R, Lowell
Cambridge, December 1, 1879.
I sent you a letter some time since of a cheerful
complexion, thinking that as things were improving
with you, you might like something faintly rose-
tinged from 0, C. I don't keep a very great deal
of that color on hand, so I don't think it likely that
it was overcharged. I have been on the point for
some days of wedding the female "plume" to the
male "papier" and am now as you see performing
the ceremony. Is that poetical enough for ye? I
am now contending against a strong impulse to
repeat my last letter word for word, circumstances
and ideas being much the same as at that date.
No. 5 Appian Way is the centre from which my
thoughts radiate and from which my views of the
great world are mostly shaped. If A. W. is quiet
and serene I infer that the rest of the habitable
world is in the same case — if A. W, is tumultuous
with the energies of trade or from other cause I
appreciate the elements of unrest that lurk in all
places and all forms of government. Such is local
influence which I have no doubt, James, you will
allow for. I should say just now that this continent
was in a very tranquU state — A. W. is eminently
so. The weather has been since September pretty
largely mUd, with occasional threats of premature
winter. The farmers in the interior of N[ew]
E[ngland] a part of them got caught by the snow

TO J, R. LOWELL 173
with their potatoes in the ground and apples on
the trees, but have since had the blockade raised,
and we may conjecture dug their potatoes with
something of spasmodic energy. So much for
weather which finally, and to conclude, was this
morning in A. W, (I don't vouch for it anywhere
else), brisk at about 20° and fair — this evening
was a grain clouded and mildening when I made
my social tour.
We have had the caucus, the delegates, the con
vention and a nominee. Hall, a business man in
Boston, for Mayor, and a second caucus, etc, a
second nominee. Fox, for the same office, the object
of aU hands however being the same, viz, to con
tinue the City government in the course of econ
omy and "pay as you go" which has prevailed for
two or three last years. Tomorrow is voting day
and I may hold important destinies in my hand
should I chance to have the casting vote, which is
not probable. The caucuses were very well at
tended. People are waking up to the importance
of primary meetings,
J. B, has had (I suppose acute) bronchitis for
nearly a month; is somewhat improving.
I saw him tonight after tea, for the second time
only, as talking makes him cough. He wished me
to come in to the tea table where he was, and he
looked quite weU considering — he ratifies the ex
pressions of good wiU that I sent in my last on his
account and renews them for this letter. I called

174 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
in on Choate as I came down — he also ratifies,
confirms and renews his kind regards to you.
¦ He has a grandson about a week old; — he tells
me that he has bought a farm for his son very near
Edward Burnett's. I think he feels the work of
O. C. President to be very heavy.
Horatio Bigelow ^ wrote me from London the
other day desiring a letter of introduction to you.
He thinks to visit Spain in the early Spring, so I am
sending you very early advance sheets as they say
of the introduction, I will remind you now that
he married a daughter of Albert Smith of Portland
and a niece (I believe it is) of Admiral Smith, whose
son perished in the attack of the Merrimac on the
Congress and Cumberland frigates. He is a man
whom I think you will like very much, with a fine
modest manliness that neither exaggerates nor
depreciates itself, but meets the world handsomely
on its merits. I like him and his wife and family
very much myself, though not having had much
acquaintance with the two latter, — by family I
mean the two daughters who with their mother wiU
accompany him, whom I saw when I made a little
visit to him a year or two since. They are High
Church, as perhaps you know.
I think I must have told you in my last — yea I
am quite sure — that I went to Mount Desert this
summer and bounced about with young people in
buckboards — combining I hope some of the youth-
' Horatio Bigelow, a classmate of Holmes; died in 1888.

TO J. R. LOWELL 175
ful qualities of Telemachus with the venerable as
pect of Mentor,
I don't believe that I told you of my going to a
conference at Waltham as Delegate last summer,
and how I made the Report, and how I met Judge
Hoar, and how we smoked in a vehicle in the shed
during the intermission and after the lunch, and
how I was deeply impressed with the hospitable at
tentions of the Waltham maidens. I quite like such
things — they remind me of Primitive Christian
ity though the ice cream is a little ante-chron
ical — but then I did not get any of it to disturb
my associations.
Father Scully down at the Port is making a move
to take the CathoUc children out of the schools, and
establishing parochial schools in their place; but I
hardly think he carries his people well with him, I
declare, James, when I wrote this last I forgot aU
about the Inquisition. I am sorry I touched upon it.
Don't feel in the least bothered about answering
this — I shall write again soon. My best hopes for
you and Mrs, LoweU go with this, and I subscribe
myself Yours affectionately.
To J. R, Lowell
December 5, 1879.
Since I wrote the foregoing four pages I have had
doubts raised in my mind whether you were yet in
a situation to enjoy a letter written in the ordinary

176 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
tone, and I thought to substitute a mere expression
of my affection and sympathy for you ; but on look
ing over what I have written I find it of so very
quiet a complexion that I conclude to send it to
morrow. It is now about 5, almost dark, — the
day has been mild and still and sunshiny, and the
mud from late rain pretty flagrant — no, pretty
deep in the street,
I voted on Tuesday (which was like today for
weather) for Hall who was chosen by some 140
majority only over Fox — both candidates pro
fessing to be of the same financial mind, and econ
omy being equally professed as the chief aim by both
parties. It is said that a very few years persist
ence in the course taken for the last three years wiU
materially lighten our taxes by paying off our debt,
I met Professor ChUd at the polls, and have the
pleasure of sending you his love, clearly and explic
itly expressed,
I had three nephews to dine with me on Thanks
giving day,
I went with Mr, and Mrs. Gurney on Wednes
day evening to Palmer's reading of the 11th book
of the Odyssey which was exceedingly well done.
We all had our Odysseys and followed the reading.
You may have heard — you probably have — of
the Chinese Professor ^ so called — being one of
their learned men, and propeUed to these shores as
I understand by some generous influence in China,
* Ko Kun-Hua was instructor in Chinese, 1879-1882.

TO J, R. LOWELL 177
perhaps aided here. He is situated Uke the Vicar
of Wakefield's son in HoUand, who would have
taught the Dutch EngUsh but discovered that he
must know Dutch first. So they have been putting
the Professor through the rudiments of EngUsh.
He has an mterpreter, so that he possUily might
begin instruction, but I hear that there has not
been one application to learn, A month or two
since the universal question was, "Have you seen
(or, called on) the Chinese Professor?" He lives
now with his family, wife and several children, in
the brick block on Mason St,
Dr. Gray's new house, "The Rectory" on the
Seminary grounds, is finished to appearance (Van
Brunt, Architect) and is I think in good keeping
with the other buildings.
I ought to have said that the Chinese Professor
attended a party at Mrs. Swan's in Berkeley Street
two or three weeks since, and was quite the central
figure — he is of refined manners, I hear.
Now, James, I am going to close my script, al
ways hoping that you wUl very soon be, if you are
not now, in a condition to enjoy a stupid letter
from a friend who hails from Old Cambridge.
Never think about answering unless circum
stances have fairly brightened up, so that it would
be an easy and natural performance. With much
love to you and to my poor Mrs, LoweU, who I.
hope is now weU recovering. Yours truly.

178 ^LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
To J, R. Lowell
Cambridge, January 22, 1880,
The accounts from you are now favorable and I
trust you are in a way to enjoy life again, I know
you have had a dreadful time but I hope it has not
pulled you down beyond the power to recover your
old cheerfulness.
I can only attempt to give you a little pleasure
by a simple account of things here. It is so little of
a narrative too, that I hardly know where to begin
it. If a bear should undertake to give an account
of his hibernation, he would be rather put to it to
make his communication fill a quarter of a page like
this. I entirely sympathise with him. But it would
have a sort of Old Cambridge flavor if I should say,
"On such a day I started from 'down in town' (not,
'the square') and reached Boston by the way of
Lechmere's Point (alias the P'int) took the time
from the Old State House clock, and going by
Court Street to the office returned over West
Boston Bridge (I think it used to be spelt with a
capital B) and so by Cambridge Port over Clark's
HiU (Broadway) to No. 5 Appian Way, where I
found that the walking had responded with its usual
sensitiveness to the weather, being in a very tender
mood," But alack! I am not strong on this humble
species of narrative, being just now rather held at
home by that venerable sheet anchor — my knee.
I went on December 17th evening to a (fhst)

TO J. R, LOWELL 179
lecture on Ancient Rome by a Mr, Spalding who
married one of the Plymptons. The lecture was
in the Orthodox church near the railroad station,
formerly the Baptist church near our house. I went
with Henry Ware. I enjoyed it — plenty of stere-
opticon, and very good — the explication and nar
ration good also. I enjoyed it much. Perhaps a
new opera-glass — bought that day — gave a se
cret chattel charm to the lecture, which my intel
lectual portion scorned to acknowledge; but at
any rate I was thoroughly Romanized for the time.
If anybody had addressed me as I came out as
Johannes Holmesino I think I should have said,
" Quid ais, Romane," or something else that wasn't
quite the right thing, for I never expect to get
Latin right. As we were going up I said to H. W,
"This is AprU weather," which it was precisely,
but when we came out, the weather cock having
meanwhile given a hint to the Genius of Winter
(shall I say) by setting his nose in a N. West direc
tion, it was bitterly cold, and was next morning
something like 12° above — Marry come up, say 5°
real cold winter weather any how, so I reversed
Hannibal, had my Capua first at the lecture and
the Alps afterward, D 'ye call that classical — A
little so, eh? WeU, my knee up and told me to stop
that business, not to go to another Rome lecture,
and I have not been,
I went to a Lyceum Hall concert though, about
a week ago, because it savored of the pristine

180 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
(Cantabrigian) age, A son of our old friend Nat
Munro, the singer, was to perform {inter alios) on
the flute. The biU of fare mentioned "the follow
ing artists," etc. There was also a son of Daniels,
avery fair tenor, I sat it aU through, and applauded
most loyally, sometimes obligato with my hands
and occasionally staccato with my cane. Musical
error — Both were staccato of course. "Len,"
Daniels is gone, poor fellow, a number of months
since. I don't know whether I told you. Old Mrs.
Chamberlain (formerly Lyon, widow of Leonard)
died a week last Monday, and Mr. Dana, of the
Bank, has just departed, aged 99 as I hear.
We have just seen, within a day or two, your
appointment to England.^ I hope you are so situ
ated that you can accept. At aU events that you
can duly enjoy the honor.
I am going to write to Mabel for a more particu
lar account of you.
Charles Storey came out at about 2 on Saturday
with me and dined and we played pickup — also
discoursed, and he went at about 8.
Cambridge is in a very tranquil state. If Gov.
Winthrop or Deputy Gov. Endicott could revive a
little while, I think we should hear a few words of
' On January 20, 1880, President Hayes appointed Lowell Miriis-
ter to England. Secretary of State Evarts, in cabling the announce
ment, said (the President) "regards it as essential to the public serv
ice that you should accept and make your personal arrangements to
repair to London as early as may be." Lowell in his reply said: "Could
accept if allowed two months' delay. Impossible to move or leave my
wife sooner."

TO J. R. LOWELL 181
doctrine, here and elsewhere, that would make a
stir for a whUe.
Henry Ware went yesterday Delegate to a Con
ference at Newton Corner and returned in a good
frame, having been hospitably cared for.
Your aff, old friend.

CHAPTER VI
TOWARDS SUNSET
In 1880 Mr. Holmes had a hankering to see
Europe again. The impression of the discomforts
of the earlier visit had worn off. Perhaps he wearied
a little of his routine life and the shortness of its
tether: perhaps he hoped against hope, as chronic
invalids will, that a change of scene would benefit
him. For his lameness grew worse rather than
better, and to it was added the affliction of inter
mittent trouble with his eyes. So in the late spring
he packed up and set sail as valiantly as could be
expected of an invalid 68 years old. After a short
excursion to Norway he crossed to HoUand and
then went up the Rhine to Bonn, where he estab
lished hunself for a longer stay.
The third letter that follows he wrote to the
young daughter of his old crony. Dr. Charles Ware.
To John Bartlett
Bonn, September 24, 1880.
My dear j, B,, or, I will say,
Mv DEAR Bartlett Pair, —
I do hope that all goes well with you, and that I
shall hear so, — receive word to that effect, — un
der the hand of the senior partner of the firm,
London, HuU, Christiania, Amsterdam, Rotter
dam, Bonn — That is the route that I have been.

TO JOHN BARTLETT, 183
and you will find it much better than a poor
skimble-skamble, halfway itinerary.
I have been here in Bonn about two months and
almost all that time in my room — but have made
myself pretty cheerful working away at my hobby.
Not but that my thoughts have travelled Cam-
bridgeward many times and taken a number of
silent trips up Brattle Street.
I am getting back to about my former condition.
I wish that you, J. B,, would write me with as
much friendship as when you wrote me before, if
not with quite so much steam.
If you will only write me the history of your
quarter of the town since I have been gone, in
cluding most expressly your own and Mrs, B.'s
summer experience, — I should enjoy it much.
And here a thought strikes me, A man would n't
fear haff so much the task of writing to a friend
abroad if it did n't seem to demand such an extent
of information because it was going so far.
I therefore change the form of my request —
Just jot me down briefly the events of the summer,
mostly of your own experience — and hold out
some hope that you will write again. It is scarcely
more to send a letter here than to Boston, and there
is therefore no need to make a heavy job of it.
Then, if you would wish to know any particulars
of my trip — or of my residence here — I will with
much pleasure impart.
I saw James in London a number of times — but

184 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
what with official and social engagements his time
was much taken up, I have heard from him since
I was here, I should think he was getting a little
tired of public life, Mrs. Lowell, he says, is learning
again, to walk.
I know this is a shockingly meagre letter but
write me on all the familiar home topics — and if
you care for a more minute account of my move
ments I wiU give it with great pleasure,
I have several letters on hand — have just writ
ten two — a part of the several, — and must stop
now, I send this to the Post as they say here, to
morrow and have another, or two more to write.
So I subscribe
With a hearty desire to see you both
Very tmly
Your old friend John Holmes,
Please direct to J, H,,
No, 1 Thoma Strasse,
Bonn, Germany,
Saturday morning, September 25.
You must excuse this very meagre letter which I
have just looked over, I had so much to write that
I got eyes, and even my old friend the knee, used up,
I had an exceedingly pleasant passage out, and
after that nothing very much out of the common
way — in fact I have been a lame old man — and
that makes all the difference, I have not been able
to knock about though better than when here before.

TO JOHN BARTLETT 185
To John Bartlett Bonn, November 18, 1880.
Fine weather for some ten
days, after several weeks' cold
rain — a drop or two of snow,
and general baddishness.
My dear j, B., —
I was thinking to write you that you need not
bother yourself about writing to me, knowing what
a horrid boar (how do you speU that — most for
gotten my English) it often is even to friends and
growing worse the longer they wait, till his tusks
stick out about a foot, and they are shy of going
near him (how do you like this parenthesis style?
rather neat is n't it?) — when on November 8 in
the morning I received your capital letter post
marked October 19,
You ought to have witnessed my enthusiastic
demonstrations after reading it, I was tempted to
answer on the moment — but I have had a good
deal of trouble with my eyes, and I was n't up to it,
I only give you a receipt for your letter now, —
but when better will repay good with evil by giving
you a more circumstantial and tedious account of
my proceedings than hitherto — and should be
glad at the same time — if I were learned enough —
to write Sister Bartlett a letter in High Dutch.
One curious thing I must mention — I heard
that "Hullo" when you first mentally uttered it.

186 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
I was exceedingly perplexed. "That's Brother
Bartlett" — I said — "Sure — What can he
want?" and then it flashed across me.
"It's the old Smelters!" I exclaimed; "they
want me! I know aU the places in Massachusetts
Bay where there are n't any smelts and I could
show them the others."
And I felt pretty badly for a little while — as
you may think.
I won't write any more now.
Give my love to Sister Bartlett, Yours affectionately.
To Miss M, L. Ware
Bonn, December 2, 1880,
No. 1, Thoma Strasse,
Meine liebe Mariechen, —
(that is all the Deutsch I can spare)
I wish I had material for a pleasant letter, but
I don't see it. [I can give no equivalent for the
pleasant letters that your papa and you so kindly
sent me, and you must be content with the con
sciousness of unrequited generosity,]
I seem to have been landed here in the second
story of my pension in my little island much as
R, Crusoe was tossed up on his strand ; but I have
not found my man Friday, unless possibly in the
person of Herr Ludwig, brother-in-law of my old
landlady. He was several years in Australia dig
ging gold, of which he got a moderate portion, and

TO MISS M, L, WARE 187
is now Lieutenant General in the pension. We
occasionally wander in "the Bush" together. He
tells me of this man who delved industriously with
out a ray of gold-shine, and of two men (in com
pany) who at the very first digging came across a
fortune for both and went home in the next ship.
There was a moral attached though, for one or
both took to the other kind of quarts and drank
themselves back to their "point of beginning," as
deeds have it. — But I must not retail Herr
Ludwig's stories to you,
Bonn is a pretty place enough, rather straggling.
There is a little nucleus of the old town remaining,
nothing to speak of. You and I, who have read
Freeman, know how they used to batter and burn
down the towns with their sieges every few years — ¦
I don't know exactly what for; unless to encourage
the citizens to build — and they could n't have a
greater inducement; but I don't pretend to go into
the philosophy of history, — The newer part is all
of brick stuccoed — a style of which I am rather
tired — I think it very shabby compared with
our faced brick. Sidewalks poor — some pleasure
grounds with fine trees — but not very spacious or
well-kept, I think. But I can't go about and view
things leisurely — I content myself with my regu
lar walk — now that I can walk — in the outskirts
where my pension is. But the country is naturally
beautiful. It is the rich vaUey of the Rhine, and
every growth gives a hint of a fine, strong soil. The

188 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
rich level is bounded in the distance with fine hills,
and even a young mountain or two. I have found in
my short walks a splendid poplar eighty or ninety
feet high, I should think. It is among the "half-
hardy" trees and suffers with us; but I am remind
ed here what a fine tree it may be. It seems to me
that in tree-architecture the poplar is the spire,
and serves a good purpose as such among the lower
trees. My eyes are getting tired — and I want to have
this go this afternoon by the messenger who takes
my letters to the office.
I have not enlarged my acquaintance out of the
family — unless by a sort of acquaintance with a
Canon of the Church, Vitalian Joseph Fortiveri —
but he is a deceased Canon, died 1842, aged ninety-
one and lies in the pretty Bonn cemetery which I
go by almost every morning on my walk.
I see cavalry, some hundred or so, occasionaUy
in my morning walk, and that reminds me that I
review my troops pretty frequently mounted on
my immense German warhorse (hobby). I should
be delighted if you could attend one of my reviews,
my troops should offer you every military honor.
Accept this straggling letter with renewed thanks
for yours. Give my kindest regards to papa and
mama and believe me. Very truly your old friend.
I have forgotten the flourish I promised.

TO MISS E. Q. SWAN

189

To Miss E. Q. Swan
Bonn, January 28, 1881.
You allude to my Deutsch acquirements. My
poor hobby has been much neglected. I think I
have learned enough however to puzzle the natives
with their own spr ache — and that is something —
My lame eye l&e a fretful invalid says — "There,
ff you are going to write, I won't stand it," — and
you know how we have to humor these invalids.
I hope you wiU be pleased with the foUowing
which I have taken some pains to procure —
We, the undersigned, sentimental, though not
actually social friends of Herr Holmes, wishing to
send our love to Fraulein Elizabeth Quincy Swan
of Cambridge U.S.A. do accordingly empower him
as our attorney to send the same.

nr  1'

duck little white dog
rooster Three cuckooclocks

190 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Bonn, January 29, 1881.
I, Joseph Vitalian Bonner, Notary have hereto
as proxy affixed the signature of the above parties,
and subscribed my name. Joseph Vitallan Bonner.
Notarial Seal
In the spring of 1880 LoweU took up his quarters
in London, where he remained, to the satisfaction of
his countrymen and the acceptance of the British,
untu March 1885. He welcomed Holmes on his
appearance in London, Mrs, Lowell's health broke
down before they left Spain, and her illness was a
constant source of solicitude to John Holmes as
the letters which we have read and others that are
to follow bear witness. She died February 19, 1885,
To J. R, Lowell Paris, March 25, 1881.
I proceed now to answer your very kind note of
March 21,
I am hopmg to be in good condition for a start
next Monday or Tuesday for Calais and Dover, I
have thought it best to write to my former hostess
of 9 Craven Street to be ready to give me or help to
get me comfortable lodgings,
I shall be delighted to come to your house and
see Mrs, LoweU again as well as yourself. I am very
glad to hear of her improvement.

TO J. R. LOWELL 191
I had a letter to Doctor Crane here, who was
educated as physician but became engaged as Ed
itor of the American Register published here. He
thinks that there is no probabUity whatever of your
recall, and he gave me his reasons very reasonably
for that opinion — says also that you are very pop
ular in England, which you would probably not
need his statement to learn.
I am delighted with your lines "In Arcadia,"
which I found in a number of the Parisian.
My kindest regards and congratulations on her
improvement, — Mrs. Lowell, My love to you both.
Your old friend.
I have been somewhat laid up, but have not
mentioned it to friends at home but vaguely — so
if you or Mrs. Lowell write home, don't speak of
it, please. To J. R. Lowell
Cambridge, June 22, 1881.
Don't think it strange that you have not heard
from me earlier.
I had much ado to shake myself down into the
old situation, and then I had to go about and in
form my friends of my absence for a year so that
they might congratulate me on my return.
I am happy to say that I found everything, and
almost everybody in statu quo. I did n't miss even
a single familiar voice from the chorus of cats which

192 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
performs nightly, under the leadership as I am fain
to think of our Tom. The poor fellow has paid
dearly for the distinction; somebody fired saltpetre
into him, which has had a dismal effect on his con
stitution and there is a subdued whisper about
chloroform. If you were talking with me now you would be
sure to ask me if I went to the Greek Play.^ That
question was asked here 25,000 times, aUowing
50 interrogatories to each of 500 people. Well, as
you ask me, I answer that I did go, and to the best
of my knowledge and belief all was very Greek
except the music, which made the comments and
forebodings of the chorus rather uproarious and
was said to be in itself very good.
If you have heard anything from Cambridge you
must have heard aU about the "Greek Play," So I
say no more. Such a pretty Jocasta!
I don't believe your village patriotism is impaired
a bit, although maybe overlaid at present by the
pleasures of EngUsh society. If I strolled about as
I did in younger days I should send you the impres
sions of my walks, to recall familiar places — but I
do little more than to visit in the evening and make
occasional grand expeditions to Boston, where I
collogue in a very moderate way with Charles
Storey.
1 The (Edipus Rex of Sophocles was performed by Harvard stu
dents in Sanders Theatre, Cambridge, in May, 1881. The music was
composed by Professor J. K. Paine. Leonard E. Opdycke, of the
Class of 1880, played Jocasta.

TO J. R, LOWELL 193
Although in abeyance, you must not forget the
Club. J, B. is at work on a concordance of Shake
speare and becomes so eager to finish his work that
it quite absorbs him, I see him but little.
Choate continues to work harder than he likes to,
always holding up visions of retirement and a farm,
I have seen him once since I returned,
J, R. L, and Mrs, L, are abundantly enquired
after and I give the best account of them. Indeed,
my last call upon you (when there was a rest in the
invitations) left an impression quite like that of a
caU here at home, a very pleasant one — for of
course it was the pleasantest way of seeing you
possible, and it gives a more lively flavor to all my
answers to enquiring friends, I should have liked
right well to have made a longer session than I
did. At this point I may as well teU you that I went to
Liverpool on the 12th of April, sailed on the 13th
and anived on Sunday the 24th, I found that, un
known to myself and without effort on my part, I
had acquired such popularity abroad that some
nine hundred foreign citizens insisted on accom
panying or rather escorting me to my native shore.
The Sunday that we arrived was very cold at 7 or
thereabouts when I went on deck, and I inferred
harsh weather on shore; but in the afternoon in
Boston harbor it was a hot summer day.
I have actually been out to Class Day — to the
performances in the Sanders Theatre, and after-

194 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
ward to one of the College Society rooms. What
used in my day to make a Uttle world of itself is
now so closely surrounded by a bigger world, as to
be relatively dwindled. The whole affair seemed,
as regarded myself, rather irrelevant, except so far
as I might rejoice in the growth of other people's
olive branches, I was persuaded to go to the dance
about the tree and on my return found Charles
Storey here, who is now with me and sends his love
to you.
Don't feel any irksome necessity to write an an
swer to this, for I know well how you are pressed
with business and social demands on you. We all
take great pleasure to see you filling your place so
very handsomely (perhaps I may say brilliantly, by
your leave).
If I thought of anything to tell you that I did n't
think already told, you should have it. Accept this
poor letter only as a token of my affection for you.
Give my love and best wishes to Mrs. LoweU and
beUeve me. Yours sincerely.
To J. R, Lowell
Cambridge, November 2, 1881.
I wiU send you a line informuig you that I still
inhale the vital here in our old town.
I have been exceedingly pleased with your speech
in Exeter Hall (among many others). Indeed I can
say that throughout, as U. S. M., "you have my

TO J. R, LOWELL 195
approbation," and, ifyou please, insert "highest"
between the two last words.
I asked aU about you from Susan Carter and
was very glad to hear of Mrs. Lowell's great un-
provement, and of your continuance in statu quo,
which I thought a very good one.
We had our Class Dinner some little time since.
John Dwight, on his invitation, urged "the sur
vivors" to attend. Twelve were present and very
sufficiently venerable they looked. Every one
there undoubtedly was unpressed by the senes
cence of eleven others — told his wffe so, if he had
one, and then looked in the glass to see the twelfth
man, the exception.
We have n't had an excitement here since the
Greek Play — which fairly supplanted the weather
— every one asking for the first thing, "Been to
the Greek Play?" and those who had not been,
answering despondently, defiantly or expectantly
as the case might be, I went to Choate's at South
boro about a month since and staid from Saturday
to Monday; but Mabel and her husband with the
other young folks were on an excursion, , . .
We've had no Club you know since you went. I
should be right glad to see you home again, but I
hope that you wiU have the opportunity to stay as
long as you wish.
Your friends so far as I know are well. I don't
know that you were at aU acquainted with Dr.
NeweU — his funeral took place on Monday. One

196 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
old friend of yours is in the last stages of decay
to-wit — the Washington Elm — I was going by
it and found two men inspecting a large branch
which had just come down sua sponte, or rather by
force of gravitation. We philosophers must deal
accurately with principles as far as we go.
I don't wish you to bother yourself with answer
ing this, I only write to seem to keep up some little
alliance with you, I have told people here of the
quantity of social business you have to do in addi
tion to the diplomatic.
Do give my kindest regards to Mrs, Lowell, and
congratulate her on the additional health I pre
sume her to have gained, since Susan Carter came
away. Yours affectionately.
To John Bartlett
Cambridge, November 7, 1881.
My dear j. B., —
Methinks one who receives the great budget of
Shaksperian thought — its rays so deftly parted
and assorted that with a few twirls of thumb and
finger, he can turn on, from one candle-power up
ward, and of all hues, from a puik to a thunder
cloud, may weU add a word or two to his vocal
acknowledgment.
" To be acknowledged, Madam, is to be o'er paid." »
* The Shakespeare Phrase Book was dedicated to Mrs. Bartlett.

TO JOHN BARTLETT 197
(This is addressed to the H, B. of the Dedication,
— an ungracious sentiment from a donee, which I
insert only to iUustrate the merits of the book,)
"The force of his own merit makes his way,"
(This to J. B,)
The preface I consider quite a model ; — saying
exactly what it wants to say and no more — per
fectly clear and concise; and the Dedication may
surely claim the two qualities I attribute to the
Preface. I am glad that the brief episode of the Waste
Basket is attached to the Magnum Opus, The bold
emancipation of the author from his own tyranny
— the ferocious hurling of his work to apparent
destruction — the savage exultation of the mob
(of one) — the calm resistance of the conservative
party (of one) — the return of the mob to reason,
and of the tyrant to power, — when the outcast
of the night before is raised and hugged by the
repentant populace — it is altogether an admirable
dramatic arrangement, in which a terrific combina
tion of tragic elements (all that the supposed spec
tator can bear) — suddenly culminates in wise
resolution — unanimous action and general happi
ness. — Had not the insensate mob changed its
mind. "You had then left unseen a wonderful piece of work."
Let me hope that your furor for hard work, how
ever meritorious, is well abated, or cured.

198 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
" I heard a grizzled grandsir say,
And thrice he smote his crutch upon the floor,
' Oh, that my life I could again live o'er, —
For one day's work I would have three of play.' "
Listen to his counsel.
With kindest regards to the Bartlett Pair
I am Theirs,
To J, R, Lowell
Cambridge, December 14, 1882.
My dear Minister, —
When will you return to be re-installed in your
own First Parish? Now and then someone con
jectures that you will never care to come back to
dwell in your old town. If I thought you were in
such a mood, I would stretch my talent for nec
romancy to the uttermost to raise the shades of
venerable citizens by your bedside until your op
pidanism should revive. Holt, Danforth, Lyon,
vinous B  ^r, sincere and ardent appreciator of
the alcoholic, whose tracks in Cambridge, if per
petuated like the birds', would be a problem for
archaeologists — these at least should watch your
slumbers and I your waking. A view of our wor
thies in spiritual vesture (yet so far corresponding
to their earthly modes as to preserve, for instance,
Danforth's tall hat) would start all the old fan
cies now buried under diplomacy and London life.
Your enquiry would be, as you viewed the famiUar

TO J. R. LOWELL 199
forms, "What's the matter? Anybody drowned at
the 'Old Bath'? Is Captain Ruggles out with the
Light Infantry? How came you up here, 'from the
viUage'?" And anon you would catch a sniff of
marsh grass and wUlow catkins — become for the
moment a child again and weep copiously on find
ing yourself a diplomat.
It is an odd circumstance that the longer one
lasts himself, the more he descants on the fleeting
nature of all earthly things (reserving however al
ways a corner of complacency for his own durabil
ity). I feel as if a little discourse tending this way
might do you good by softening the membrane that
covers the sentimental in your constitution, prob
ably a little toughened by diplomacy and London
life. Where is Commencement? I — perhaps you —
have found no worldly spectacle equal to that.
Have you ever seen soldiery that impressed you
with a sense of destructive power like the helmeted
"Light Horse"? In any realm have you seen irre
sistible force so embodied as of yore in the C. L. I.i
when they were in full uniform? You answer can
didly. No ! I am pleased. In navigation, have you
met with any marine vehicle so profoundly typ
ical of the dangers, distractions and devotions that
hover over the deep as the Humane Society's Boat?
Again you answer decidedly. No, and you are right.
You never have. I have often seen the tear gUsten
' Cambridge Light Infantry,

200 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
in your eye as I described that craft making her way
to the scene of disaster. I hope my story would
not now be met with a jeer. What an inexpressi
ble sort of calamity it would have been if the two
philanthropists had perished by the leakiness of
the H, S, boat. How almost impossUjle to enter on
the records of the Society. Why did our band of
humanitarians keep their boat so alienated from
her element? I suppose the real truth is that they
did not expect to avaU in saving lives but only in
searching for the dead.
I find old Cambridge a very pleasant place to
dwell in though I am rather imperfectly welded on
to what I may call general society. We have all
conveniences here for living and for dying. We
have another Horse railroad — the Charles River;
also another statue on the Common of "Bridge"
one of the first settlers, whose descendant got leave
from the town to put up this statue, and changed
a portion of his silver — $5000 I believe — into
bronze. Our people seem rather inclined to fall upon
it. They seem to think it the safest way to im
peach all our art in the first instance and condone
afterward if cause is shown.
Do you recollect the virulence with which they
used to attack the astronomical pudding which
surmounts the Observatory, or at any rate the
building, which is simply designed for use only and
I presume has as much of good looks as they could
afford to pay for.

TO J. R. LOWELL 201
The new "Bridge" is a personable man enough,
wears the hat of Charles I's time, and by direction
of the giver faces, say S. S, E., as if he were of a
migratory turn and might wish to try farther down
the coast. He is at the north end of the Common
and near North Avenue,
So much for the convenience and adornment of
life. On the other hand, if one is called on to lay
down his fardel there can't be a better man than
we have to take charge of any mortal relics he may
wish to leave behind. I had been so pleased with
his carriage on several mortuary occasions that in
a moment of enthusiasm I told him that he should
be my dust-man and thus unnecessarily raised the
question of survival between us. He probably now
discovers caducity in all my movements, and for
my part I consider his constitution to be under
mined by funereal chills.
We have n't had a club since you left us, I think
I shall try to get up a three-cornered party, or pos
sibly ask Henry Ware as fourth.
I shall make myseff the attorney of C, and J. B.
to send you their regards.
I wrote to Mrs. LoweU how warmly your name
was received at Commencement. Colonel Lee
says that I promised to send you a paper with
an account of the doings. I suppose you saw
the papers at the time, but I told him I should
send a 'Tiser, and I do so herewith. Do com
mend me kindly to Mrs. Lowell, to whom I

202 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
wish all continuance of her present reported good
health, I have written a quantity of stuff to make a let
ter but on the same terms on which I have writ
ten before — positively no answer, if you had the
leisure, AU your friends are well to the best of my
knowledge, Mr. Darwin promised to carry you my remem
brances. I like him much. I was pleased to re
ceive a word of remembrance from Doctor Walcott.
To Miss E. Q. Swan
Cambridge, August 17, 1883.
I enjoyed sitting on my friend's piazza (West
Rindge) perhaps more than at any time before,
gazing often at Monadnock, who in turn looked at
me in a rather benevolent manner. He is an amiable
mountain, of cheerful temperament. He sometimes
in the afternoon draws a purple handkerchief over
his face, and takes a nap. He is very old, and needs
it. When my two friends and I mustered amongst
us, our two centuries or so, on the piazza, I thought
I could perceive a complacent smile on his rugged
face. But it might be an optical illusion.
I was pleased on my return to find a few staunch
adherents of the Appian Way faithfully at their
post. There is a local spirit growing up there tend
ing to the aggrandizement of A, W. I share it, and
advise occupants to say nothing depreciatory of
it on any occasion. It is the most literary street

TO GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS 203
in town, containing the annex, ^ — Mr, Wendell's
Institution for the instruction of youth, — two
Orientalists, and Philosophers in any quantity.
To George William Curtis
Cambridge, October 6, 1883.
Dear Sir, —
(I own that this expression suggests a catholic
feeling of intimacy as preceding acquaintance with
the individual, but it gives a pleasant view of the
probable relation of civilized man to man.)
You have long known F. D. F., and as I have
learned from him have lately given him proof of
your kindly remembrance. I am trying to get him
into the "Aged Man's Home," in Boston, and a
number of (civic) lions stand in the way. Through
a friendly director, his name is admitted by the
committee on appUcations, for presentment to the
Directors (whose unanimous vote is necessary in
his case, he not having resided in Boston during the
ten years preceding his application). My friendly
Director suggests the value of a letter from you, in
F.'s favor, and without (of course) dictating the
contents, he would like to have your testimony in
the present rather than in the preterite tense, —
as of a man you know rather than as of a man you
have known — a friend of the present day rather
than a friendly memory. Hard as F.'s case is, and
' The so-caUed Harvard Annex or "Society for the Collegiate
Instruction of Women," which became Radcliffe College, in 1894.

204 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
though it seems like laughing at a funeral, this
diversion of MachiaveUism to a humane purpose
gives me amusement in which I invite you to share
as a casual, innocent profit resulting from an honest
enterprise. But, if I have a long series of facts
which to me constitute sufficient acquaintance
with a man's character, I am not bound to con
sult the artistic sense of a dozen directors in draw
ing the perspective, and I should have no hesita
tion to vouch in Truth herseff (of whom I believe
there is no ideal figure — she does n't seem to have
been a favorite) for the correctness of my sketch.
Then for eulogistic terms. Honesty (for instance)
is absolute, admits neither enlargement nor di
minution. But the silversmith, while he neither
adds to the weight of his metal, nor subtracts from
it, enlarges and adorns the surface, and so " a trans
lucent honesty," "an aggressive honesty which ab
hors and jostles fraud," "a kindly honesty slow to
see the impositions on itself," — if any of these,
or other varieties from the same root, might work
more effectuaUy upon the toughened sympathies of
an old director, I should not hesitate even to search
the dictionary for amplifications. On the other hand
if the Good Samaritan, upon no other acquaint
ance than a view of the victim after the assault,
should say, "A particular friend of mine! Take
good care of him, Landlord!" I should say that he
had borrowed a trifle from Truth to lend her sister
Charity ! I say lend, as I have no doubt he would

TO J. R. LOWELL 205
have explained afterward. If we can furnish such
niceties as that would be for Conscience, in her most
epicurean mood — I don't think we are Uke to go far
wrong in using the means of persuasion in F.'s favor.
To pluck a man from an iceberg and place him
in a wa^rm bed, Sanf ord's Ginger within reach ; to
transport an old man from the cold solitude of
Nebraska to a comfortable home where he can make
his less hardy coevals hug the warmth by telling
them how his beard froze to the bed last winter —
Philanthropy so often subject to chills could at
tain to a healthy glow by only reflecting on such an
ideal of comfort,
I am sure you will not mistake me as offering you
instmctions, I merely enlarge a little on the text
of my Kindly Director.
I only wish to get as imposing a memoir and as
much of your personal influence as the facts aUow
you to transmit.
If you wiU grant my request please direct to
John Holmes, 5 Appian Way, Cambridge, Mass.
I am, Sir, Your obt. Servt.
To J. R, Lowell
Cambridge, November 22, 1883.
Mon CHER MiNISTRE
Mein lieber Abgesandte, —
These two specimens must suffice to establish my
polyglot abUity. They are meant as a compUmen
tary equivalent for your French.

206 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
I was (October 15) and am now much obliged for
your kind letter. Your account of our ancient hotel
is charming. I could put m the corner of the pic
ture you have drawn, " Painted by J, R, L, after
the greatest of the old masters, — Time,"
For indeed you have reproduced most happily
the work of that busy artist who is always at work,
adding new touches to the benefit or damage of his
sitters, but always beyond criticism,
Madame's rhumatismes implacables, the aplomb of
Monsieur Carrier in executing his official duties,
his economic magistrale, his tone plus nasillard with
snuff and years, and his protest agamst the Ucence
of the age, — not to omit la bouillie and le petit vin
rouge, all go to replace me as locataire, and I feel
an impulse to demand my key from poor perennial
MUe, I am pleased with Mons. Carrier's expres
sion "pour le principe de VAutorite"; an AngUcan
or American methinks would say "have nowadays
no respect for authority," and omit the more philo
sophical "le principe."
Le principe as represented by the gallows, wheel,
etc., was undoubtedly much respected in old times,
I thank you for the portraits of the two new
garQons and the suggestion of the casual abbe.
I accept cordially your idea of Mons, G, as the
lien musculaire between the twin hotels.
They were at work on the enlargement which
has set MUe. free from her little cage, when I was
the wretched prisoner of 1880.
I should think you would feel ten thousand miles

TO J. R. LOWELL 207
away from Old Cambridge with so long a total
change of ideas and habits. But you have had a
great time of it; and don't let me forget to say that
I enjoyed your Fielding ^ speech ever so much. I
hope you have been bertihrt to your heart's con
tent, I am much pleased that you should recall
me pleasantly in No, 2 au premier, which I pre
sume was my room (on the left at the head of the
stairs). Yes, I am much pleased when you have had
so much to drive me out of your head, WeU, I can
assure you, you are not forgotten here (in your
private capacity as friend; of course you are con
stantly before us as a public man).
You once wrote as if your (naturalized) fellow
citizens here might owe you a gmdge, but I never
heard a word tending that way — perhaps you
only spoke in the way of pleasantry.
Since you left Cambridge, Time has sent (how
many) say, six of his squadrons to attack me per
sonally, each composed of 365 members aged 24
each. Don't you suppose that I look pretty well
battered? They tell me you hold your own most
potentially. You have my approbation.
Give my love to Mrs. Lowell, and thank her for
her kind greeting and return mine of the most
cordial quality; and I am Your old friend,
P.S. HaU! my Lord Rector! "
1 Address at Taunton, England, September 4, 1883.
2 Lowell had just been elected Lord Rector of the University of
St. Andrews, Scotland.

208 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
In the next letter, written to the ten-year-old
son of his nephew, Mr, Holmes revives our old
friend, the sailor-man, Goliath Tittle; and assur
edly he has lost none of his drollery during the in
tervening years. To Edward J. Holmes, Jr.
December 2, 1883
Off Jeddo, Japan.
My dear Neddy, —
I hain't never seen you but then I knowed your
father so weU ever since he was Knee high to a toad
that its all the same and I haint seen him for a good
whUe cos what little Ive ben ashore I haint skerce
ever had store cloaths on which I should n't want
to go for to see him without em on cos hes one er
them that likes to see things ship shape and trig
like tho he aint no kind of a man neither to find
fault with a feller if he aint quite up to Oak Hall ^
and the fashnables. Then havin been tattooed by
two three different lots of Kanakey who had dif
ferent ways er doin of it, makes it kind er awk
ward goin inter S'siety as they call it Ef I shud
tell you what kind er offer I had at a dime museum
in New York it ward astonish you
I should like to have you tell your pa that Ive
bin thm quite a number of xperences since I see
him, er navigatin most part er the time when I
' Then a much advertised emporium of ready-made clothing in
Boston.

TO EDWARD J. HOLMES, JR, 209
warnt cast ashore or on a raft or something and once
pickt up swimnun by the Seven Sisters brigantine
in Latitude 54 South nigh Crossbones Island which
was about as narrer a chance as Ive hed, onless
among the Kenniballs which was 7th July 1853 11
oclock in the mornin sea time as near as I can make
it when I knowd the hour (I wont say the minnit)
high noon, which is their dinnertime, aUowin alwys
as they do a hour for roastin, when I was sure to be
gone up, which is a situation pretty hard for a feller
to home in Boston to take in, for a feller to be in
such fustrate condition, and kinder coaxed and
made a good deal of and fed up and enjoy in his-
self well on oranges and bananys and rice, and
sometimes roast pig and then to find out as I did
that mornin what it was all for, I tell you a feast
dont look very pleasant when a fellers a goin to be
the pervisions Lucky for me they almost all of em
got down in the little holler-valley, like, where the
hot springs be which they might be intendin to do
some bilin by way of variety, I was tied to a tree no
great way off higher up and a tryen as I might be to
set up the backstays of my catechism and get to
gether what religion I remembered and there come
the thunderationest rumbling and roarin that ever
I did heer and I see the lot of em down below kinder
hove up like, and then down went the whole kit
on em and there wusnt nothing but hot water for
to be seen where they was a minnit afore and they
was bUed insted er me Somewhat they was left

210 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
on em which wasnt many untied me a thinkin that
their god Chow which was the head of the feast
was offended with them or partial to me or some-
thin and after that they treated me real poUte; and
I come away in the Ben Folger which see my signals
and some on em cried when I left but I guess it was
more for what they had missed than any fection
for me
I wiU say so much for the Kenniballs, they do
know how to lay the fat on a feller and theyre
pretty civil weU dispersitioned sort of creeters too
only for the way they have of eatin their friends
for a windup. If it wornt for that theyre better be
haved than some of our folks.
Well I should spin a dredful long yarn if I was to
tell all the kind er fancy times Ive had since I see
your pa such as bein cast ashore in the Straits of
Magellan and nothin but a hambone which I drew
by lot for ten days which I eat it all up before I
had done with it, and was taken off by the Schooner
Ann Jane Capten Bulge which you may have heern
of as he sed he had relations Uvin in Cambridge
Port, Ive been most everywhere and seen most
everything sea sarpent encluded and had a most
everything folks has in the way of voUent com
plaints pertiklerly kolery plague yeller fever and
fever and ager, but Ive a notion that such things
kind er clear off er feUers constitution for Im fust
rate now, I ris 250 easy the last time I was wayd
and stand 6 foot 2 which my brothers is aU smaU

TO EDWARD J, HOLMES, JR. 211
which I spose was becos the folks put tucks into
their trousers they was so everlastin afraid they'd
take a sudden start which they never did but was
uncommon slow growers Now they never put
none in mine and I didnt find no difficulty en
growin. Ive been married quite a number of times
but it was agin my wiU, amongst the natives, for
they didnt give me no choice, and they kind er
dopted me Do ask your grandpa the Doctor what
he thinks of Mrs. Liddy Pinkhams Vegetable Com
pound. Ive bet a doUar with Solomon Twister 2d
mate of the clipper Thunder and Lightnin that
he'll say its fust rate. Sol sez the reglar doctors
dont like sich things cos they hurt their bizness.
Her picter which I spose must be a good likeness is
enough for me she looks so sensible Uke and as ef
she had a good judgment, Sol takes her stuff by
way of pervention he ses a stitch in time saves
nine. TeU your pa I want to see hun ever so much, and
I hope to when I come home, Im gittin considble
along now — I guess I shall quit the seas putty
soon, an ff I could live somewhere near your pa I
guess we could enjoy considable for there aint no
part of the world but I could teU him about, and
then take you on my knee if you haint got too old.
And perhaps your ma wouldnt mind bearin a
hand in the conversation it would be fust rate Ive
changed my name to Little and when folks ask if I
got a act for it I teU em the act was passed by the

212 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Legislater of Patagonya for it was down there I
changed it.
Love to Father Yours
Sarvice to Mother Goliah Little
Sol ses your grandpa is a Homopath^ — You ask
your father to ask him ef he is — if youre a mind
to, and tell me when you write These here two
little doUars is made outer gold I digged in CaU-
forny Ive salted down some too If you sh'd care
for to write me a letter please to send it to Portland
Oregon I xpect to be there in about two months.
To Dr, C. E. Ware
Cambridge, September 20, 1884.
I might very properly have written to you be
fore this time, but my meagre record has offered me
no temptation to do so.
I have, wherever I have been, lived in the very
quietest manner, and at home have even rather
improved in that respect on my habits abroad. The
chief social pleasure here now is for the returning
fugitives to ask and tell each other where they have
been and what they have been about. For my part,
on leaving you August 2nd, I stayed at Princeton
until August 16th, then was at home to August
23rd, then at Mattapoisett a week, since then
have been a fixed fact in Cambridge except two
* A playful allusion to Dr. 0. W. Holmes's vehement denimciation
of homoeopathy.

TO DR, C. E. WARE 213
days at Brookline. At Princeton I was, as with
you, on a farm, and everything went on so weU un
der my inspection, that if I had stayed long enough
I stood a chance to be chosen President of the local
Agricultural Society.
It may be well for me, the practical farmer (you
know in the old field at home), to record my ap
preciation of the hospitaUty of both the amateur
farmers at West Rindge and Princeton.
Why cannot you send me a little account of your
experiences since I left you. I love to read your
reports on the farm; with the information about
crops, larches and chestnut trees (the plantation) —
vagabond and predatory insects — chickens with
dislocated thighs, who arrive in the world only
to ask for surgical aid, demented birds that lay
their eggs on rocks in the pasture; mosquitoes,
whether in force this season or perhaps discouraged
by the weather and in subdued frame of mind, or
possibly even repentant; that, however, is hardly
to be hoped, the mosquito has as meagre a moral
temperament as can be found, and therefore makes
a terrible combination of the sanguinary and the
frivolous. Do write me. I enjoy the picture of your well-
earned repose varied with just exertion enough to
give it a flavor. I wiU say, too, that your letters
always read well. Come on then! Give us a letter,
a historical letter. I deUght in Mary's photograph,
which arrests us three old gents in our pleasantest

214 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
social attitude. My love to her. Give my kindest
regards to Mrs. W. the general benefactress. I
should like to see her make one hohday exclusively
for the benefit of the wife of Dr. W., but it would
be hardly a possibility. Now come on! All that
you want is a cent's worth of paper — ditto ink —
and a pen, and a good-will to act, resulting from
my request and your own benevolence. Come on !
Yours affectionately,
Mr. Holmes sometunes amused himseff by send
ing verses to his correspondents. The foUowing is
one of the best specimens,
SITTING FOR YOUR PHOTOGRAPH
Dear Doctor Ham, —
I hope you have not yet said —
A very very naughty word
And sure in heaven to be heard.

I bring you, to admire or laugh
The long long promised photograph.
If aught extravagant you see.
Credit it not I beg to me —
The Photog, sovereign of the hour.
Fashioned my looks with tyrant power.
Bade me, as each device he tried,
Or sweetly smile or swell with pride.
Now think of martyrs calm and pale.
Now of Suwarrow and Ismail;
Now take a lively aspect on,
Now the grave look of Fenelon;
Now bade me think of bygone sages,
If then too grave, on Dickens' pages;

TO MISS SARAH PALFREY 215
And while at something vague I aimed.
Compound of all that he had named.
Came the sharp " Nowl " and petrified
I sat until he drew the slide.
What wonder then that now you see
A curious anomaly.
To Miss Sarah Palfrey
No. 5 Appian Way. May 5, 1885.
My dear Miss Sarah, —
Please not to impute my delay in reply to indif
ference ; much less to deliberate neglect of your note.
But I really could not muster an answer at once.
Your somewhat abrupt, and in its nature, start
ling announcement of the suicide committed in
your presence, perhaps gave me some tendency to
nervous prostration, I was flat on my back, as the
phrase is, for quite a number of hours. Yes, during
a considerable part of yesterday and today.
Wednesday afternoon. Today I have been af
flicted with epistolary prostration from which I am
just now rallying.
Later. I have just found out what makes me so
very slow with my answer. It is my reluctance to
tell you that I can't possibly undertake what you
would have me.
If you want a regular martyr, the real historical
thing, and will get the consent of the authorities,
and provide stake and fuel, I don't say but that I
will serve, and even bear a rateable portion of the
expense; and taking it as the alternative to the

216 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
other service, I think you would hear a pretty loud
and cheerful Nunc dimittis from out of the combus
tion. You shall choose what I am to be Martyr
for, CaU it PhUanthropy or "the Cause of Educa
tion or Woman Suffrage — Just what you please.
I shall come over soon to see you about it.
I love PhUanthropy; but better when she takes
her constitutional in the Common than when she
calls on business at No. 5 A.W, I love Philan
thropists, and am far from owing you the least
grudge that you demand of me what it noight be
very meritorious for me to perform, and you must
bear me none that I decline.
Please convey my respects to my contemporary,
your Mother. With much regard, Yours.
To G. W. Storey
Cambridge, May 13, 1885,
I am happy to teU you that I arrived safely at a
Uttle before 10. Mariana's suggestion of the tidal
wave weighed somewhat on my mind when I
reached Boston, and I thought it prudent to con
sult a sage who cultivates weather exclusively. I
told him I had a moral doubt whether I ought to go
by West Boston Bridge or round by Charlestown,
He said there was no danger before 12 o'clock. If
there were, said he, " I should not be here," (He
occupies a suite of rooms in the back part of the old

TO DR, C, E. WARE 217
ToU house.) So I came — keeping an eye out to
windward however, and internally estimating the
buoyancy or otherwise of my valise, from which I
resolved not to part unless strangulation threat
ened or Philanthropy shrieked a shrill demand on
my exertions. We got over nicely and my self-
complacency tells me there might have been a con
siderable crowd of friends at the end of the bridge
to welcome me but for the lateness of the hour.
This is my simple narrative, . . .
To Dr. C. E, Ware
Cambridge, July 15, 1885,
My foot is in the Stirrup — but no steed belongs to me.
The expression's therefore figurative — as you must
plainly see.
As light as wheels the balanced gate upon its wonted hinge.
So readily I turn my face to well-beloved West Rindge.
I shall leave behind a desert — 'tis sad for me to say,
But desolate at present is our brilliant Appian Way.
The Annex has all vanished — our neighbors too have
fled,
In pretended cooler shades — to seek rest for hand and
head;
And few and slow the steps are heard — of patriots who
maintain
That to leave our street for any place can never be to gain.
Brother Poet, I find this measure rather rough;
let's try another.
'T was thou, infected with poetic fire.
Who first took up the free and easy lyre,
And wrote me pleasantly and all at ease,
In measure we may call "go as you please,"

218 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
And now thou seest what thy example's done:
Behold two bards, where late was only one.
Now I too know what means " poetic strain,"
Nor wilt thou catch me soon at this again.
Charles! It's deUghtful to be on good solid prose
ground again, I feel as ff I had climbed with toil
and peril down from some high place.
If you, Charles, were not a native and "free
of the guUd," I would send you "The freedom of
the city in a box," which last, taken by itself,
is about as funny a sober expression as you will
find, considering the irrepressible expansive char
acter of Freedom, and the small limits proposed
to her.
But we must not stop to moralize. . . .
To C. W, Storey
Cambridge, October 8, 1885.
I am quite dazzled with your schedule of pears,
and anonymous demi. He who plays on words — a
habit to be avoided — might say, demi if I ain't.
Visions of bag stuffing arise in my mind. My
bag is my Aladdin's carpet, I stuff it, and get
on or nearly on it, and presto, I find myself in
Brookline with the last style of patriotic cigar
in my hand, and an Aladdin's jug spontaneous in
coming, and nearly the same in exuding at my
elbow, Parasangs! You are right. Twenty parasangs
meant a good breakfast on mule meat. Five para-

TO MISS M. L. WARE 219
sangs, with a river every two miles, and a mountain
the third, meant a haff pint of bran, and a pint of
water — To Miss M. L. Ware
Cambridge, September 6, 1886.
My dear little Mary, —
(For I am surely entitled to use this diminutive
to one whom I have had under my eye ever since
she chipped the sheU, speaking as an old agricul
turist.) My dear little Mary, —
I am ever so much pleased with your Uvely letter
received today. I can almost hear the splash in the
tub of Wat Ul the last purification, and I take an
honest pride in every flea that rises self-convicted
to the surface. He has been the unwUUng protector
and nurse of a colony whose expulsion gives him a
well-earned pleasure, though possibly accompanied
by a homesick feeling at seeing so many old neigh
bors set adrift.
If your dog knows fleas by sight (which is prob
able) he must have experienced deep emotions
(after his bath) in viewing the surface of the water
when he had emerged. To see so many old tenants
who had committed perpetual waste and in fact
drawn salaries, instead of paying rent! Wat must
have looked a ray or two more cheerful than
usual. I think his general expression is decidedly
stoic.

220 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Tuesday, September 7th.
I have to go to Boston and wish to send this to
day. No, I wiU keep it and fill it up.
I do not wonder that you doubt about directing
your letter  I have promised Waldo to return
to his house on Thursday of this week, I have not
cared to go out to drive, but have sat on the piazza
and cultivated my mind. We had some reading
aloud, Mrs. C, and a young man by name J. P.
were the visitors when I arrived on the 26th. They
went on Wednesday, September 1st, and Miss A. H.
came the same day. She read aloud "Castle Rack-
rent" the first evening and the "Knapsack" the
second. I shall trust your knowledge of juvenUe
literature to tell you whence these come. So you
see it was a sort of relaxation for a mind that had
been strained to such a degree to take in Lecky.
Tuesday afternoon.
I have been to B  and on returning find a letter
from your honored papa. Now this makes a com
plication, A Uvely, yes, a gay letter from the papa,
who is naturally in high spirits because he has got
back a dollar that looked quite doubtful (remind
him that twenty-five cents remains due). It is an
intensely difficult situation — I hardly know what
to do — I have a strong tendency to write to your
papa, across you, but that won't do. I think I will
leave the papa and answer him bye and bye, but it
has quite upset me, I want to talk to you about the

TO MISS M, L, WARE 221
potatoes, and the rye, and the chestnuts, but I must
hold off. Now we wiU begin again with the decks
aU clear,
I expect to go down on Thursday to Cohasset and
to find the Misses C. whom I have never seen, I
hope to show them something of the manners of
the "gentleman of the old school" such as, "Your
servant, young madam," and the like.
When I went to B  yesterday I saw the labor
procession which was very long and drew a great
crowd along their route. We shall hear this eve
ning how they improved their hohday. Today I
found the sidewalks weU filled near the newspaper
offices — where (especially at the Herald) (there
were telegrams of the race, Mayflower so, much
ahead at 11 -J). ^
Cambridge has been quite a desert, bears mn-
ning about the Common and panthers watching
for the Observatory folks in case they should come
out of doors. ... I shaU try to write to you again
before you come down and give you a better narra
tive, ff I find there is material to improve your
mind or perhaps to rest it after your perusal of
Lecky. Affectionately.
Wat says:
"Come on Dr. Ware! Come on if you please.
If you'll furnish water, I'll furnish fleas."
1 The International Yacht Race in which the American yacht
Mayflower beat the EngUsh yacht Galatea.

222 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
To Mrs. Joseph G. Thorp March 4, 1887.
My dear Mrs. Thorp, —
I thank you for your kind invitation and for
your pleasant assertion that it would give yourself
and Mr. Thorp pleasure to receive me; but I fear
you are mistaken. I am not the least of a dining-
out man.
When I think however that I volunteered to act
as patrol of your district, the old stern voice of
military discipline seems to say, "They are calling
in the outposts. Obey orders," — and under such
an impulse I must afford to disappoint any idea
you may have entertained of my being eligible din
ner company.
And now it grieves me to have to mingle the dis
cordant tone of rebuke with my thanks. It is very
true that I admitted you {auctoritatemihi commissa)
to a recognized standing as of the genuine Old
Cambridge stock. I had no idea however that you
would think, upon such title, to enroll yourself
among the "Old inhabitants of Cambridge." I
must tell you that this drew from me the invol
untary exclamation, "The little whipper-snapper!"
which conveys perhaps sufficient reproof. I may
feel obliged to report you to our "Sanhedrim" —
for disrespect; but if so, shall plead your youth;
you need fear nothing too harsh from them,
I may not have told you that I am a veteran of

TO MISS M. L. WARE 223
the Harvard Washington Corps.^ I mention it to
account for my military tone above.
Notwithstanding the rebuke which my duty to
my "Order" rendered compulsory,
I subscribe myself
Your grateful respondent.
To Miss M, L. Ware
Cambridge, August 17, 1887.
My dear Miss, —
I returned from Brookline yesterday afternoon
and found on my table a piece of photographic art
which I at once attributed to you. Two of the fig
ures in it were familiar and came gratefully back
on my recollection. The third, whose expression
indicated that he had recently indulged in a dose of
rough-on-rats, or something of that sort, attracted
my sympathy but failed to awake recognition.
Whoever he may be, methinks he would have done
better to have contented himself with the one orig
inal copy of his countenance.
The two other figures are rendered very success
fully indeed; and I am far from impeaching the
fidelity of the first. I thank you much for your
present. I should advise the third gentleman to
hold a rose in his mouth during the process, (Here
you see the impression of that countenance rushes
on me again.)
' a frolicsome organization of undergraduates which flourished
when Holmes was at Harvard.

224 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
To Miss M. L. Ware
Cambridge, November 28, 1888.
My dear Mary, —
It would be presumption in a young inexperi
enced scribbler to suppose you in an urgent hurry
for his verses. So much for my delay in sending
them. How have you and your mama weathered this
prodigious northeaster? I trust well; with the
mimic Ocean under your windows you have been
almost at sea. I should not wonder if you had
unconsciously ejaculated, "Belay! Hard-a-port!"
and the like. The storm stood on no ceremony
here, but took possession of Appian Way without
a "by your leave" or any other civility, and
waltzed up and down and turned somersaults and
ramped about with a demoniac rapture. You
could hear his wUd shriek of delight when a hat
sailed off to the Rocky Mountains, or an umbrella
blew out straight and became all outside to its
owner (should n't you in such a case abandon the
umbreUa and fly with all speed from pubUc opin
ion, which I never knew to have any mercy on a
man, at least, with an inside-out umbrella). The
best of men and of women who witness such a ca
tastrophe are transformed into a mUd, very mUd,
species of demon. You ask how so? Why! because
they laugh at what is for the moment an inexpressi
ble and almost uninteUigible calamity to a fellow-

TO MISS M. L, WARE 225
being, I never saw a person in such a situation
whose countenance did not bear a tmly ghastly
expression of grief and bewilderment. My dear
Mary, I hope that your umbreUa may never, never,
turn inside out. If it does, let me counsel you not
to lose a second in staring at the elongated phe
nomenon in your hand. It is that second when the
pubhc has you. No ! Toss that nightmare type of
uselessness contemptuously into the gutter, Abi !
Evade ! Rumpe I Or, go it! Cut and run! . . .
My sense of economy has made me fiU up my
paper as you see. I hope my advice may be of serv
ice to you. I trust it wiU not be oppressive. Give
my kindest regards to your mama and allow me to
sign myseff Very cordially your old friend.
CLASS DINNER
Seven weary pilgrims, old and gray.
We rest upon our lengthening way
And think how portly first began
Our now so dwindled caravan.
Again the funeral bier doth cast
Its shadow dark on our repast;
For e'en upon our festal eve
A comrade dear hath ta'en his leave.
One greeting now must be foreborne.
One more warm handgrip now is gone;
We can but view his empty chair
And try to think we see him there.

226 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
And so with all we've left behind,
Though various classmates of one mind,
We summon them to reappear;
They do! Behold, we see them here.
Hark! Humphrey's lusty song again,
With a new softness in the strain.
And Hark again! the voUied laugh
Subdued and lessened to its half.
And as we say 't is '32,
They softly vanish from our view.
No! 'T is no longer '32
With life and heart and all things new.
Time's iron tongue says '88,
The sun is low, 't is getting late,
And all the signs do now portend
The coming of our journey's end.
Then cheerly hail the mild decay
That bodes the breaking of new day;
Or, if you will, the fading light
That tells of long and restful night.
{Fragment, December 5, 1888)
The world has borne something of a Day and
Martin hue, without the admirable shine proceed
ing from that article,
I have knocked about, however, within narrow
limits in as rowdy a manner as my age permits, and
have tried to unite a juvenile gaiety with senile
toughness. The Harvard boys were mightily tickled with
their rare victory at football.

TO C. W. STOREY 227
To C. W. Storey January 4, 1889.
The Christmas tune I have had "beggars de
scription." In thinking of this phrase I have some
difficulty in seeing how "description" could really
be beggared, unless deUneation or analysis, or some
such rival activity, should really fall upon him, and
with or without unnecessary violence rob him of all
his exaggerations, aggravations, tinsel ornaments,
in fact of aU his properties, and leave him nothing
but the skeleton Truth, with no means of padding,
etc, to fit it for the public gaze.
It must be a Shakespeare phrase, I think, I leave
you to struggle with it. It is very handy, anyhow
— "Beggars description!" Two words, and aU is
said, and somehow a very impressive impression
left on the mind.
But you observe that almost always immediately
after announcing descriptions, beggary, bankruptcy
and destitution, even to a want of decent clothing,
they trot him out and make him show his paces be
fore the public — which is something I don't quite
understand, I said that the tune I have had beggars
description. I, therefore, shall not describe it.
Somehow or other Christmas, though I staid in
my room aU that day, does n't allow you any rest,
what with one thing and another.
I feel as if I had just returned from a tour on foot
to the Rocky Mountains. I hope you have been

228 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
well and have enjoyed at least average Christmas
happiness. The world as I see it about me appears too dis
tracted with sendings and receivings and answer-
ings to enjoy any peaceful satisfaction. It seems
a time of mUd benevolent delirium in which people
babble of cards and toys as our friend F. did of
green fields. Yours affectionately.
To Miss M. L. Ware
Cambridge, January 15, 1889,
I can't do better than to fulfill my promise to
write while you are yet a newcomer in Asheville,
The httle fishes that were wont to swim around by
Brimmer Street and turn an eye up to you at the
window, are much perplexed, and miss you a great
deal. A Uttle flounder told a clam, who was taken
and brought to our fish shop, and who told it to a
canary in the shop, who somehow sent word of it
to Miss Tolman's birds, who told her, who told
me, that he was real "mis'ble." "If she don't
come back pretty soon," he said, "I am goin' to
move to Chelsea. I did want to see the Brookline
Street bridge finished, but I can't stan' it here no
how if she don't come back to the winder in the
course of another week."
So you see that when a nice girl like yourself
darts off to foreign parts, she hits right and left and
downward. I want you to send your kind remem-

TO MISS M. L. WARE 229
brances to the little fish and I wiU get them to him
by some of the creatures.
Of course if this Uttle fellow feels so badly, you
must have left behind you tribes of regretful friends
to write you long and loving letters.
To Miss M. L, Ware
Cambridge, April 18, 1889.
. . . The Uttle fish that I told you of continued to
droop after I wrote you — would say nothing but
"I am real mis'ble" — and try to drown himself
by jumping out of the water on to a stone, but an
old crab (whom I perhaps mentioned before) — a
friend of the family — shoved hun in again and
made him promise not to repeat the act. The poor
Uttle feUow said, "I won't, but I am real mis'ble."
There was a North Carolina fish got carried up to
Boston lately by a current occasioned by storms.
Some of his relatives or friends in the river there,
had heard of you through a trout that had seen you
walking by his brook, and had heard you say to
yourself out loud, " I shaU go home now very soon,"
The stranger fish pitied the little one and told him
of this. The Uttle one said, "Jingo" and jumped
three inches perpendicular out of the water, and
has been gay as a lark ever since, I tell you all this
because I knew you felt for the little sentimental
fish. . . .
The weather is very moderate, temperature high
for the date — but of course there is the old east

230 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
wind. Temper him as you wUl, he is always the
same surly old fellow — rheumatic and cross.
P.S, You are not obliged to read these outlying
scraps, they are only meant to make the letter look
plump and hearty,
"Though far and wide thou stray,
Forget not Boston Bay," Pope.
P.S, Trite reflection. It is worth going away to
have the pleasure of coming home. It is worth
staying at home to avoid the bother of going away.
(This is what we call a well-balanced reflection.)
"Remember thy friends
Forget thine enemies
Forget NOT thine India rubbers." Lord Bacon,

CHAPTER VII
last days
John Holmes was now an old man. His in
firmities increased, especiaUy the dimness of sight,
which at last prevented him from reading at all,
although he stiU wrote letters m an ahnost unde
cipherable hand, which he himself could not see.
He stiU crawled out of an evening, when lameness
permitted, and called on near-by friends, A little
group of his well-wishers took turns in reading to
him. He often suffered from fits of depression, as
weU he might, but his native buoyancy would re
assert itself and he now made it a duty to appear
cheerful, even when his spirits were low.
His affection for his intimates increased and with
them he loved to keep up, so far as possible, his old
ways. In his correspondence with Miss Mary L,
Ware, for instance, he carried on the whimsical
story of the Little Fish through many letters. As
long as he went out he paid particular attention to
the children and grandchUdren of persons whom he
had played with in their own chUdhood, He usu
ally had a supply of new, shiny dimes and quarters
which he distributed among the little people. He
told droU stories and made them feel that he was
one of them.
But besides the inevitable decrepitude which

232 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
bUghts old age, he had to bear the loss of friends
who died before him, Robert Carter was the first,
foUowed by Henry Ware, Estes Howe, and Waldo
Higginson. During more than a year LoweU was
stricken by a painful iUness, the nature of which
was not generally known, and after delusive rallies,
he died, on August 12, 1891, By dint of great effort
he made out to attend one more meeting of the
Whist Club, which had suspended its activity for a
long time past. After his death John Holmes clung
all the more affectionately to the two or three
survivors. To Miss M. L. Ware
Cambridge, July 2, 1889.
My dear Mary, —
I believe my last letter (to your mama and you)
had the merit of being juvenile enough in style for
anybody. Tonight I shall find it easy to assume the
gravity of age. For walking in the procession on
Commencement Day tired my knee a Uttle and I
have kept in-doors today. This is enough to make
an "old gent" realize the emptiness of Ufe — the
vanity of human wishes, the frailty of the human
structure, and anything else that the earnest and
melanchoUc moralizer should suggest for his ac
ceptance. To all his solemn propositions I should
tonight answer, ' ' Yea ! Verily I " in a tone that would
vouch my sincerity.
But I must rouse myself— I must say to Despond-

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TO MISS M. L. WARE 233
ency and Dreariness — who have made me a visit
today. Come, girls, it is too late for you to be out —
go home to your cypress grove ! and teU your mama
(old Madame Melancholy) that I hope she wiU al
ways be as happy as I have been today,
Wednesday, July 3rd.
I wish that I could today find something better
than my experiences to talk of. So! Let us see.
There is Commencement — I did not mean to go to
it or any part of it, but going to see Mr. Boott (that
is the right speUing, is it? Yes, I have looked in the
CoUege Catalogue) he said he was going over to
old Massachusetts to vote for Overseers — I said
I would go too — and once over there — in contact
with aU the circumstances and association of Com
mencement, I determined to go to the dinner (hav
ing already omitted the exercises, so-called, at
Memorial HaU), So in a short time I was changed
from the morose hermit into quite a lively old gent,
marching to military music as if I had been a sol
dier all my Ufe, I found myself well on toward the
head of the procession, with but three classmates,
Dwight, Dupee, and Cushing, Almost aU in my
neighborhood were either scalped (i.e. bald) or
bleached "white unto the harvest." The young
feUows outside the procession cheered the old gents
(and young, too, I suppose), and what with the
music and aU, we felt like Ulysses and Nestor and
other well-advanced old Greek gentlemen return-

234 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
ing from the conquest of Troy, The only object of
attack before us was the dinner, which they feU
upon with glorious aplomb. And I, pretending to
two meals a day, was carried away by the general
enthusiasm and did good execution.
We did not get very near the middle of the haU,
so that when the speaking came there was a
surprising apathy on the part of the old gents —
nothing stirred them up in the least. But being
somewhat deaf, myself, I soon saw the reason. I
applauded occasionally with enthusiasm, which was
so much the more to the honor of the speaker, as it
was done on credit, and showed my confidence in
his ability. This somewhat relieved the aspect of
entire indifference which prevailed around me. The
walk was a little too long for me and is the cause of
my staying at home yesterday and today.
Then I went to Phi Beta Kappa, and again found
myself well ahead in the procession, illustrating the
effect of Time, which had thus promoted me. Again
miUtary music, and again Age putting his best foot
forward and winking out of sight the obtrusive
years. I escaped all the walking I could, I found
myself in the procession with John Dwight and
Waldo. At the dinner with them and Colonel
Harry Lee, so that I had a very nice time and I
was able to applaud more intelligently than the
day before.
I tell you all this because I have nothing better,
and also with the idea that when one is a Uttle

TO MRS, JOHN G, PALFREY 235
remote, if I may so term it, quantity quite competes
with quality.
On Class Day I was furnished with tickets and
went at eight in the evening to Sanders Theatre to
see the dancing, but soon wearied of it, went into
the College Yard to see the arrangements, soon
wearied and retired, I did not feel gay as a man,
but in fine feather as a Philosopher, ready to decry
aU sorts of vain amusements, , , , AU the folk who
are going to stay here say that Cambridge looks
its best and pity the exiles.
Our horse cars, as you have heard said a thousand
times, are a great luxury to people not too exact
ing; and our electric cars begin to bounce along in
a hilarious way. My landlady has the prettiest
kitten, perhaps, in Massachusetts; amiable, lively,
intelligent. She has found out that I am writing
to you and says, "Please, sir, tell Miss Ware that I
am quite content with the world so far as I have
seen it, and glad she is better and send my humble
regards." Yours tmly.
To Mrs. John G, Palfrey
Cambridge, February 5, 1890.
My dear Mrs. Palfrey, —
I hope to appear before you soon with my
gloves buttoned^ which they perhaps never yet
were (both at a time) ; or if ever, — phenomenally.
« Evidently acknowledging the present of a glove-buttoner.

236 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
I shall hope then to see a smile of benevolent
self-satisfaction on your countenance, and that aU
of us present shall be, as the phrase is, "visibly
affected," I shall hope also to have the pleasure of thanking
you for your useful present, and for a youthful feel
ing approaching the boyish, which I have in thus
learning some of the rudimentary traits of social Ufe,
And I subscribe myself somewhat bashfully
With kindest regards
Your Contemporary.
To J. R. Lowell No. 5 Appian Way,
April 7th, 1890,
I am delighted to think that you are now enjoy
ing some, and I hope, a great deal, of comfort.
"The Judge" ^ and Wendell, and Charies Storey
have reported you to me and the last account is the
best one — that you are downstairs, and at home
again in your room, with all your authors in full
conclave about you.
Don't wonder that you have not seen me among
the gratulants. I am congratulating myself in-'
stead of you and hope very soon to come up and
amuse you by explaining how I have been so tied to
home lately.
So, go on and thrive and get back to the locus (a)
quo. You love a bit of Law Latin I know. It is a
> Judge E. R. Hoar.

TO MISS M, L. WARE 237
favorite part of the Law with me. There seems more
and heavier law in the same amount of Latin than
of English.
Remember me kindly to Mabel, who I hope keeps
you company in getting weU.
To Miss M. L. Ware July 22, 1890.
My dear Mary, —
When I wrote you last a letter with but very lit
tle in it, I was expecting to improve somewhat on
myself in another letter to be despatched a few
days after, and now my date is July 22nd. I can
hardly teU myseff how it should be so, unless it is
that old gents easily find insuperable difficulties.
I have been through the usual summer course of
events — as spectator, not actor. I have seen the
Uttle Cambridge gaieties of the last term, and have
felt in a feeble degree the excitement attending the
excitement of the world about me, but generally
have maintained a gravity proportionate to the
hilarity of the public. I have been to time-honored
Commencement and Phi Beta Kappa, and possi
bly have relaxed on those occasions into a serious
smile. After both these occasions I brought home
with me to No. 5 Appian Way three or four friends
and suppUed them with a fluid more stimulating
than the coffee and cold tea on which the College
feeds its young at these times. Wentworth Hig
ginson presided at the Phi Beta Kappa and very

238 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
handsomely — bringing the house down with his
happy allusions.
Your Uncle Harrys made a nice speech commem
orating, among others, one of my classmates whom
he knew more intimately than I did. I did not go
out on Class Day, but it was a great occasion for
the young folks. The "spreads" were numerous
and the whole thing was multitudinous and musi
cal, eloquent, saltatory, sentimental according to
the moment or the person emergent on the scene.
I looked on in fancy and approved, but I fear did
not smile. It was enough for a philosopher to give
his approval,
I have called with great steadiness on Miss L
and M, and now and then on Miss C and A (I write
the one Miss for the two). The latter have become
entirely re-naturalized in Cambridge, On Sunday
I go with much regularity to "meeting," though
not hearing so well as might be. . . . After meeting
I usually find a companion for a short walk. Pro
fessor Torrey, 2 say, or Professor Thayer, and fre
quently moralize on the quiet and order of the day,
and that in a land, too, where Peace, in her white
gown and a flower in her bosom, walks at large un
disturbed by war-like drum or trumpet.
My landlady has cat and kittens to the number
of five. When I return home I am likely to review
1 Colonel Henry Lee, Harvard A.B. 1836; died 1898.
^ Henry Warren Torrey, Harvard A.B. 1833, Professor Emeritus
of History at Harvard; died 1893.

TO MISS M, L. WARE 239
this family. One cat is an Angora and she has a
good deal of sentunent. She has heard of your be
ing iU and she said to me the other day, " I feel real
bad about Miss Mary and I wish you would tell
her so. But you teU her to cheer up, I was real sick
myself once and they kept teUing me to cheer up,
and I kept cheering up and at last aU of a sudding
I got better than I was before I got sick," I told
her I would send her message,
I have got into such a contracted old gent way of
life that going to Boston is an event with me, and I
can't help speaking of it as gomg to the "Metro
poUs" — and — on the whole, don't you yourself
thmk it is more proper? It is no small excursion
when you think of it. It includes runnuig the
gauntlet through aU sorts of difficulties. The other
day I found myself between an electric and a horse-
car. But there was room enough for existence, I
gave the most searching and serious look I was
capable of at the conductor of the electric, as if to
say, "You are responsible." He was evidently
affected, and would have shed tears if he had had
time; and I came out comfortably, I go to comfort
your little friend the fish now and then, but it is
painful. The last visit I made him was near your
house where he was waiting as usual. "Ain't she
coming home? When is she coming home? Why
don't she come home?" These questions all in a
string uttered in a plaintive tone moved me very
much. I told him you were better and would be

240 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
back soon. "Hoorar," he said in his small voice,
"I wiU swim right over to Chelsea and tell Uncle
Pollock," and his little fins twinkled as he de
parted. If you don't decUne to answer this tardy letter,
do tell me what you would Uke best to have me tell
you about, if I can interest or please with any of
the small material I have at hand. Your old friend.
To Miss M. L. Ware September 2, 1890.
I have been to see your little friend the fish
lately. After I had said a few words to him in a
fatherly way, he broke out in a vivacious tone,
"Why, you seem a little dumpish, Mr, Holmes!"
"Where did you get that word?" said I,
"We use it down here in the river. Mrs. Salmon
uses it, — and she says it's proper, and she's a good
deal of a lady. You ought to see her in her best
dress ! She ' s real splendid , ' '
"Well," said I, "how have you come on since I
saw you?"
"First-rate! Splendid! I have had the biggest
time this summer I ever had in my life. I have been
to all the fashionable places, over to South Boston
and round to Chelsea, and once I followed the
steamboat clear down to Nantasket. Ain't it
splendid down there? And it 's so fashionable and
gay! I almost wanted to go ashore, but Uncle Had-

TO MISS M. L. WARE 241
dock (he went with me) he said, 'What could you
do ashore?' And he laughed so, and opened his
great mouth as if he was going to swaUow me, and
he keeps saying every now and then, when I meet
hun, 'Don't you want to go ashore?' and opens his
mouth a foot wide and laughs,"
"Then you have not been solitary," said I.
"Solitary," said he, "I guess so with such an
everlasting lot of relations as I have got. Some of
them pretty hard ones, too. There is Aunt Eel,
she is dreadful fond of her relations, but them that
goes to see her is apt to be pretty slow about com
ing home agin. She is too fond of 'em altogether,
so Uncle Haddock says. He ain't afraid of her, he
is so big — But — " and he started suddenly,
"how is Miss Mary? I have not heard from her for
ever so long, and I feel real down about it. If you
write do tell her how much I miss her, and how I
want her to come back,"
So you see your little friend is entirely and en
thusiastically loyal, . . .
I went to Boston on Grand Army Day, which I
suppose you know about, and took a boat and was
rowed into the harbor and saw the warships. Com
ing back to Washington Street, I could see nothing
for the crowd, and could not cross the street, which
was roped off. And there I was cut off from my na
tive home with the broad Atlantic roUing behind
me. But I made out to get into an office at the
corner, and saw about a mile of New York soldiers.

242 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
and then got a chance to cross the street, and come
home. So my dear chUd, I have filled up two pages with
airy nothings. I do hope that when you get this
long letter, even though it should be dull to you,
you will take your pen and tell me that you have
got ever so much better and are coming home, . . .
Writing a letter to a distant friend with whom you
have not talked for a good while, reminds one how
much of the sociability of everyday life is made up
of trivial commonplaces, which are vivified by the
friendly presence, and colored by the Uvely sug
gestions that passing circumstances offer. It luck
ily occurs to me just as I am lapsing into reflection,
that the Uttle fish said he had constructed two
verses, and rather bashfully said he should Uke to
have Miss Mary see them.
" Dear Mary, how I long
Your pleasant face to greet
And see you well and strong.
Come back to Brimmer Street,
" I'm but a little fish,
And little do I know;
But this it is I wish,
And I do tell you so."
He asked me what I thought of them — whether
they were good poetry. I told him it was just an
honest sentiment on wheels so as to run easily —
but that he mustn't call it poetry — that that
word had been abused enough already without his
help, "WeU, it was real honest," said he.

TO MRS, J. G. PALFREY 243
"Certainly," I told him, "but honesty is not
poetry," "Would you not hke to write some poetry?" said
he. " I can tell you lots of queer things about lobsters
and crabs and them eccentrical kinds of fishes."
"Why no," I said, "if I should write poetry I
have no doubt it would be very matter-of-fact in
character, and I might be glad of your Uncle Lob
ster's anecdotes, but I don't care to go into it."
Now, Miss, if you find the little nonsense I have
put together tedious, don't bother yourself with it
a moment. If you can write without fatigue I
should like at least a short account of how you get
on; but if it is fatiguing to you, I would be content
to hear about you from your mother, and so I sub
scribe myseff Affectionately your old friend.
To Mrs. J. G. Palfrey No. 5 Appian Way,
Tuesday, September 9, 1890.
My dear Mrs, Palfrey, —
You will be interested when you hear that your
and my friend, the Owl, who has occupied some
thing Uke a judicial position on my mantelpiece for
some years, with credit to himself — when you
hear, I say that he met with a severe f aU, a few days
since, I am sorry to say that his ear was somewhat
injured; but I rejoice to teU you that when rein-

244 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
stated, he resumed (if for a second he lost it) the
aspect of profound reflection which is his charac
teristic. His eye is, if anything, wider open than before —
ready to catch upon its surface all that the world
offers to his capacity for deep study and severe
analysis. I think that the pain he suffered has slightly soft
ened his expression without weakening it.
If I were to offer, with aU tenderness, anything
like a criticism on our friend's countenance, I
should say, that the bulge of the eye is somewhat
excessive and gives a suggestion of vague curiosity,
quite at variance with the inward concentration
which we attribute to him.
And, as extremes meet, we must admit that that
full-orbed gaze of his might suggest to the careless
observer an idea of vacancy, totally alien to his
judicial aspect and attitude, and contradictory to
his title as the bird of wisdom.
All this, is between us. We know, appreciate, and
revere our friend, and if we trifle a moment about
a seeming weakness or two, it is only to recur with a
warmer zeal to his great merits.
Let us rejoice that he has escaped destruction,
and even serious dilapidation,
A week last Saturday I went to the MetropoUs,
and returning was tempted to walk too far, and
have been very stationary ever since but am get
ting weU again.

TO MRS, J. G. PALFREY 245
I know of nothing to tell you in our part of the
town except that the sohtude shows some signs of
disturbance. Our friends are approaching and the
Indians and wolves are gradually withdrawing.
Hoping that you, Madam, and all, have been
weU since my pleasant evening with you, I ask the
pleasure of signing myself.
Your Friend, and your partner in the ideal dance.
To Mrs, J, G, Palfrey
Cambridge, March 23, 1891,
My dear Mrs, Palfrey, —
I feel the responsibihty of writing to you as the
representative of this quarter of the town, very
heavily, I shall endeavor to divest myself of sec
tional prejudices, and though I may naturally ele
vate the character of the Appian Way District, I
shaU be careful to say nothing that may wound
your pride in your very Scientific locality. ^
Perhaps the much-frequented thoroughfare on
which I dwell affords a better study of human na
ture — a more enlarged view of hfe — than your
sylvan surroundings. But what we may gain in
largeness of view we lose in the diffusion of our
ideas over a larger surface,
(These long sentences are only for the purpose of
getting a start. They wiU serve to set off any little
liveliness I may attempt to offer as a contrast.)
But then for liveliness? — No. 5 A. W, does not
' Mrs. Palfrey lived near the Agassiz Musemn

246 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
seem exactly the place to apply to, for such an arti
cle. It is tme that I have had one organ-grinder
today — He ground a reasonable quantity of mu
sic, but he cost me two cents, which in my pres
ent — or at any rate, recent — economical frame
of mind, is equivalent to twenty-four hours of de
pression, or at least of diminished vitality,
I do not foUow the maxim of " SmaU profits and
quick returns" but of small profits and slow re
turns, as I am unfortunately an object of partiality
to the ambulatory artists.
So any hope that I offered of exhUaration by
force of animal spirits must be abandoned.
I fear I shall have to resort to the means you
yourself have afforded me, viz : to the pleasant recol
lection of the tea party, and the social gathering in
your chamber. It was quite an event in my re
tired life, and I have felt since quite a man of the
world. I went yesterday afternoon to Mr. LoweU's and
found him in bed with a tardy remainder of his
gout — now in the hand. He was somewhat better.
Thence I went to Mr, Hooper's ^ and saw some of
his young folks. He was out. He made me a very
pleasant call on Sunday, and I think this was the
first time of my going to his house. You know he
has annexed the Gurney's house to his own, I
looked into the room where they used to sit,
I called last Thursday at Mr, Waldo Higginson's.
* Edward W. Hooper, Treasurer of Harvard College.

TO MISS ANNA HIGGINSON 247
They said that he was very comfortable but that he
had not gained in strength.
I trust that our party was not too much for you,
I hope that it was a benefit.
There has been no agitation in Appian Way that
I am aware of, unless a momentary disturbance at
No. 5 with regard to the exportation of dust-bar
rels to the sidewalk, which was of short duration,
I shall hope to have the pleasure of seeing you
soon and of finding you restored to the parlor.
With kind regards to all my entertainers, and
with my respects to yourself, as you wiU insist that
you are my senior, I am. Dear Madam, Yours truly.
. To Miss Anna Higginson March 11, 1891,
... If I find a publisher willing to set forth in two
small duodecunos a work entitled "A Journey from
Chestnut to Tremont Street, in the MetropoUs of
Massachusetts, with remarks upon the Manners
and Customs of the Natives, and upon its public
monuments, particularly the Statue of Governor
John Winthrop in ScoUay Square, — together with
meteorological observations coUected during the
transit, which wiU include accurate measurements
of the depth of mud, made by the author himself,
as well as of the various acclivities and declivities,
with a fine steel (conjectural) portrait of Christopher

248 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Columbus, the renowned Discoverer of America"
— I say, if I find a publisher for the proposed work,
you shall receive the earUest copy,
I dispense therefore with any attempt at present
to inform you of my labors and sufferings (not to
speak of perils) during this long and zigzag wan
dering. Suffice it to say that I got tired and once seated
myself upon about two inches of projection at the
foot of a column, and with my stick advanced as a
prop appeared to gaze in at the lace-curtained win
dows opposite, I rested at S. S, Pierce's and then
attempted a negative sort of adornment of my per
son by going to the hair-cutter. Thence to Temple
Street, where I had again to rest as I waited —
this time with my foot on a doorstep and the cane
acting again as a prop. Thence I went by Garden
Street car to J, R, L.'s and found him down stairs
and quite free from pain.
When I got home at about 6 you wiU be pleased
as a friend to know that I had an appetite such as
we see attributed to ship-wrecked mariners and
Arctic voyagers, having fasted since 9 a.m. (I shall
put this into the book.)
On Sunday I went to meeting and sat in my
(half) pew. Professor Torrey was not there. Mr,
DixweU ' took my arm after meeting, and it is not
for me to decide which was the column and which
(I am forced to use the language of poetry most
> Epes Sargent DixweU, 1807-1899; Harvard A.B. 1827.

TO WALDO HIGGINSON 249
unwUUngly and unaptly) and which the vine, but if
there had been a slip we should have faUen in one
common min. To Waldo Higginson [March, 1891?].
... I suppose that a person involved like both
of you in an enterprise demanding much calculation
is seldom intermpted in his computation by an
intrusive sentence from the last Sunday's sermon.
This is merely phUosophical reflection. I have n't
the least idea of a "slant" at you or Mr. Bates.
James LoweU has had a hard time lately with a
furious fit of gout — has had a great deal of severe
pain, and his left hand became so weak that I think
he could not hold his pipe with it. He has got much
better and has had the Whist Club twice at his
house — not venturing out in the evening, Charles
Storey lately, in a note to me, alluded to James and
his confinement for a time to his bed and said,
"What pleasant reflections he must have!" — a
remark which I think appUes weU to a friend of ours
who has a large interest in the Cambridge Divinity
School.^ What can I tell you about our Old Cambridge
that can possU)ly please you. Old Cambridge ! now
debauched with numbers — wealth — an intellec
tual furor that allows the mind no rest — and a
> Mr. Higginson waa a member of the Harvard Overseers Com
mittee to visit the Divinity School.

250 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
rage for amusements that allows none to the body.
"The Market Place," or "Down in Town" be
come "The Square," "Willards," the "Car Office,"
the Court House, "The Lyceum." What can I do
better than transport you for a moment back to the
calm and the complete homeness of 1820, by a few
extracts from private memoranda of the time.
(Mr, Whipple,) "Mem. Owe Deacon Brown
36 cts. for 1 doz. Havana cigars, Mem. My fee in
Munroe vs. HunneweU for breach of fence by cow,
$1.50, Have been reading Cooper's 'Bravo of Ven
ice,' — a great book, Mem. Due Willard 25 cts,"
(Deacon Munroe.) "Mem. Prof, Farrar. One
week's work repairing chaise, $6,"
(Squire Winthrop.) "Yesterday passed a very
pleasant Independence Day, After breakfast to
Brown's shop and bo't a good supply of lemons and
had a [illegible] punch made. Mr, Craigie came to
dinner and in the afternoon we sat out on my front
yard, and enjoyed the view of the River and of the
CoUege Sloop just coming up from Kennebec.
Craigie very sanguine about his Lechmere's Point
plan, I teU him he'd better sit out in his porch and
drink punch (which is one of the healthiest liquors
in the world) — told him if he did n't succeed he'd
be a poor debtor and have to stay at home all but
Sundays. Mem. Walked this morning to Brighton
Bridge, found a number of boys fishing. They had
taken several of one to two pounds. WiU go down
and try it myself some morning. Coming back met

TO MISS ANNA HIGGINSON 251
GU)son and Gordon each with a jug of mm. They
were going down the river in Stedman's boat afish-
ing. Gordon told of 5 sea perch that he caught one
morning from Brighton Bridge that weighed twenty
pounds, but he'd been drinking — two pounds is
good weight,"
Fearing that I am tedious and hoping to see you
soon, Yours affectionately.
To Miss Anna Higginson
Cambridge, April 15, 1891,
My dear Miss Anna, —
I have been very inactive for nearly a week —
have been in the house the greater part — almost
aU the time, and have not risen to the level of a
Correspondent, A certain well-known dramatist says, "There is
a tide in the affairs of men," and if that is the case,
there must be low tide sometimes, and I suppose it
must have been low tide with me.
I do not pretend to record pubUc events. The
newspaper thrusts everything discoverable upon its
readers. The only important event in domestic life
has been the disappearance of Captain Tom Gray —
a feUne gentleman much valued by the household,
though prevailingly of an outdoor habit of life.
The Cat's Chronicle and Back Yard Advertiser has
not as yet made any mention of his disappearance,
being doubtless unwilhng to shock the pubhc while

252 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
any spark of hope remains. But in this house he is
given up and I feel a certain pleasure in thinking
that a brief notice of him sent to you will intro
duce his character (all that is left of him) to the
Metropohs. Captain Tom was generously built by Nature,
with an aspect corresponding to his frame. It was
bold without insolence, with a noble frankness of
expression which was as good as a free ticket of ad
mission to the public heart. His look alone was a
chapter of hfe philosophy that cheered and strength
ened aU its readers,
I knew him first during an interval when he was
left by the family in the next house, and had as yet
acquired no other domicile — I was not aware of
this but used to see him sitting on the piazza at
No, 5 with the air as I now interpret it of a noble
exile. I made some friendly advances to him which
he seemed disposed to accept, although common
prudence forbade him to let me approach very
closely. He seemed to say, "Sir, had I such secur
ity as I ought to demand from mankind, I would
gladly accept your friendship,"
But. I must not Unger with my recollections.
Captain Tom had a regular and capacious appe
tite, index of a healthy expansive spirit.
He had a hearty appreciation of the more solid
blessings of Ufe but was far from an epicurean.
"Give me but enough," he would say. "The most
fatal fault in diet is insufficiency,"

TO MISS ANNA HIGGINSON 253
He was in favor of woman suffrage — " For," said
he, "who are our friends, the friends of our race.
Who feeds us but woman? " — "I teU you," he once
said to a friend; "take an average ton of men and
the same of women, and weigh their sense and their
goodness, aU the good quaUties in a pile, and don't
you believe the women would beat more than half
the time?"
He was a strong advocate of home happiness and
a foe to all that should supplant or even rival it.
" A feUow," he would say, "should stick to his own
premises. There's where he ought to find his hap
piness, among his own family and friends, I never
knew a cat that went abroad a good deal but what
came to nuschief sometime or other. No, Sir, a cat
ought to stick to his own barn or cellar (or parlor,
if he's a parlor cat) and his own back yard,"
"The world," he said once, "is just as good as
crazy now with their clubs and societies and recep
tions and all lecturing each other to death. How
many folks do you suppose you 'U find at home now
of an evening? Cambridge was a sensible place in
1820, according to what my grandfather told me,
and he always used to say to me, 'Tom! Stay at
home when you have a home!'"
My dear Miss Anna, I hope you will excuse my
dwelUng so much on ("the late," I fear) Capt. Tom
Gray. There is no small news current here just now.
There was a slight temporary excitement a little
whUe ago over the dust-barrels that are set in the

254 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
street, but it soon subsided and matters were
peacefully arranged. There has been a Uttle talk
about arsenical paper and one citizen is having his
walls denuded — but then there are so many ways
of getting a stomachache without arsenic, that one
is doubtful. I must close my letter having told you
aU, and I am Very truly and cordially Your old friend.
Love to Waldo To Waldo Higginson April 16, 1891.
. , , How Mr, Ames must miss your attentive
serious face, for even if your mind wandered for a
moment to the subject of the Cohasset waterworks,
you would seem devoted to the sermon. When a
man is good, "all through," Satan may divert his
attention with secularities, but cannot rob him of
his solemn and saintly demeanor,
I suppose your friend Mr. Bates occasionally
finds himseff saying "7| per cent," instead of
"Amen," to some impressive truth that his minis
ter utters. To Waldo Higginson
Cambridge, May 6, 1891.
My dear Waldo, —
I am happy now to have something to write you
of stirring interest. Last Saturday I set out for the

TO WALDO HIGGINSON 255
alternative objective points, the North Pole, or
Alaska. A sudden spirit of enterprise took possession of
me. I longed to force my way to one of these two
distant points. I said to myself, energy to set off
and perseverance to continue are the two things
wanted. I hardly consented to count in as a third
the smaU bag, whose scanty contents were to stim
ulate my self-reliance, and develop my energies, I
bade a brief but kindly adieu to the country about
the Appian Way and in a moment found myseff
on the world's broad highway. The reflections of a
traveUer on such a scale as mine, at setting out, are
usually superseded or obliterated by the hard ex
perience of after travel, I therefore briefly record
my own, while they are yet fresh.
Fu-st, I expanded with the feeling that I was no
longer a dweUer in Appian Way, but a cosmopoUte.
I no longer dealt with states, districts, cities and
towns. Meridians of latitude and longitude were
now my measures. My powers of observation and
comparison were awakened, I viewed with a careful
eye the trees, the herbage, the weeds, even the
stratification of rocks; nothing was too great or
too small for my attempts at analysis, I even
thought before I arrived at Watertown' that I dis
cerned a shade of change in the material productions
of Nature, and even in the form, features, and car
riage of men. This it is (I said to myself) to travel !
» Three miles distant from Cambridge.

256 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
The ardor for discovery, for knowledge upon a
world scale, remoulds the man. It was not until I
arrived at Newton that the immensity of my plan
seemed to break upon me, and as the chilly breeze
swept through the open door, I became aware of the
rude opposition I must encounter toward the Pole,
or even before I reached Alaska, ff that should be
my course; but my ardor soon revived, and my
mind being now chilled down to proper degree, I
formed between Newton and NewtonvUle a glacial
theory which I trust you will some time give me the
pleasure of approving.
Arrived at NewtonvUle at my nephew's, social
blandishments stole unawares upon my mind and
relaxed the intensity of its tone. Social comfort and
hilarity acted as a positive bane upon one strung up
to highest pitch of enterprise. Perhaps I had done
better to withhold my purpose from them. Their
solicitude for my safety impaired my confidence in
myself. When I was cautioned about descending
the stairs, or led with fihal attention down the steps,
what, said I to myself, shaU I do among glaciers,
gulfs, chasms? If the stairs require the prudence of
two people, what wiU one alone do upon the awful
steeps of the Ural?
Thus repelled and discouraged from adventure,
and at the same time enticed towards the confforts
of social life — I finaUy, after a severe struggle, con
cluded to go no farther at present toward the North
Pole than NewtonvUle. It is a great thing though

TO WALDO HIGGINSON 257
to have been en route for the N, P, I am now en
titled to say, — as preface to narrative discourse,
— Some time since, when I was on my way to the
N, P. or Alaska.
I returned from my expedition to the N. P, on
Tuesday afternoon, I have quite recovered from
my excitement except that I have a hard time in
my sleep. What with being tossed by the wUd bulls
of northern regions — coming down long moun
tains garnished with precipices, "by the run," as
we say, I have by day a sense of general contusion
that is quite painful.
Pardon this tedious letter, my dear Waldo — it
is written for your good, and, ff tedious, let it act
as poUsher to your patience. We must make the
best use we can of all our means. Yours affectionately.
To Waldo Higginson Cambridge,
Wednesday, June 3d, 1891,
My dear Waldo, —
There is with the invaUd a contest between the
physical and moral being, and a friend who cannot
help the one feels urged to offer his aid to the other.
I don't know the man with whom I should feel
less of awkwardness than with you in setting forth
those moral aids which the invalid is in a measure
disabled to apply to hunself.
Only to state your advantages as an invalid

258 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
would seem enough to make your spiritual being
arise to cheerful and athletic encouragement of its
oppressed feUow-worker.
A character approved, a being beloved by so
many. This is enough without recaUing the more
immediate consolations that surround you.
I may recall to mind your serene patience. I
wish to avoid aU difficulty with regard to self-ad
miration; I therefore ask as a favor that you will
allow your spiritual being to take a view of itself
and bestow an innocent smile of approval.
Happy man to whom we can say such things !
Yours affectionately.
To C, W, Storey
Cambridge, July 14, 1891.
My dear Charles, —
I ought to have written you about James,' but
have found him from time to time in so much the
same condition that I forgot my duty to his friend,
at a distance from him,
I called on him with J. B. last Saturday and found
him with the sciatica still in possession — and he
said that his voice had failed him the day before —
but it was fairly audible while we were there. His
look — his aspect — was I thought quite good and
natural. But alas, I got a note from J. B. this evening to
this effect: —
» J. Lowell.

TO MISS ANNA HIGGINSON 259
"... Kindly send me your address, Newbury
port, that I may send you frequent buUetms of Mr.
LoweU. He had a severe attack this morning — has
been under the influence of opium aU day."
Doctor Walcott pronounces his case as " critical " !
This, though we wiU hope the best, is sad news for
us aU,
I shaU let you hear on Thursday whatever there
is to tell to one so much interested as you.
To Miss Grace Norton
Cambridge, July 18, 1891,
My messenger reports, —
"Condition much as yesterday. He had a very
poor night."
James has been having sciatica all along, but
this new attack of pain is, I beheve attributed to
•the Uver. "Enlargement of the liver" is the term
used by the doctor I hear.
To Miss Anna Higginson
Cambridge, August 4, 1891,
, . . I have been, for me, so tempestuously tossed
about in the world that I hardly know how to begin
anything hke narrative to you. The Menimack ex
pedition seems to stand first, so, if you say, we wiU
have at it.
It was on a fine summer day that a man some
what beyond middle age stood at the gate of an un
pretentious edifice in the well-known Appian Way.

260 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
The golden rod by the margin of the quaint
street was rioting in his brightest colors, while the
succory with its pale blue eye seemed to gaze with
modest interest on the person who, by the capa
cious valise which he held in his hand, was evi
dently on the point of launching into itinerary ad
venture. How do you like that? or do you prefer
this? On Saturday July 18, — valise in hand, I walked
to the "Square" (formerly "down in town"), I
boarded methinks an Electric and proceeded to the
metropolis. Took a cab at or near the Revere, and
to Eastern R,R, station — a squalid station ! Feel
ing a suggestion of hunger, I mounted on one of the
high stools in front of the cuUnary counter and de
manded soup. The soup here, i.e. at the station, I
take it is perennial, that is, refreshed with new
suppUes of sohd, and always doing. It inclined to
tasteless — probably a part of its solid element was
immersed in January or thereabout. But there was
plenty of heat. If I had been in any hurry I should
have had to leave it, either to refresh some of the
waiters or to be plunged into the common stock.
Dr. Johnson might have said of it: "The soup was
below any measure I possess of demerit. I ap
proached it with misgiving and left it with disgust.
The coffee, uncontaminated by its fellowship with
the soup, might have been tolerated, but the heat
of both was such as to add physical pain to the
pangs of unsatisfied hunger."

TO MISS ANNA HIGGINSON 261
To Miss Anna Higginson
August 26, 1891.
... I have been disarranged and tossed on huge
biUows of circumstance, the smaUest of which has
been large enough to hurl me as far as the Metro
poUs and, refluent, to sweep me back.
James LoweU had been so long iU that his death
made very much less impression as a social loss than
if it had occurred earlier. The value of the man is
fuUy estunated by all his friends. I think he is more
tenderly remembered than his manly bearing would
have given reason to expect.
All of them seem to look back at him in his char
acter of kind and gentle friend.
To Miss Anna Higginson
September 29, 1891.
I arrived in the Metropolis, took a herdic and was
so shaken up that I ought in justice to myself to
take another day to entirely realize my identity or
rather to fully identffy myself with the old gent
who embarked at Cohasset. I think that if I were
a surgeon and had a patient who was pretty gen
eraUy dislocated (i.e, his joints were) I should put
him in a herdic for a mile trip ; his bones would have
to change their position entirely and therefore be
reset at the end of his journey,
I don't dislike it though; it is a gymnasium in
which you are put through aU possible violent con-

262 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
tortious for twenty-five cents, with no voluntary
exertion on your own part.
To Miss Grace Norton
Cambridge, September, 1891.
My dear Miss Grace, —
The first matter you would wish to hear of wiU
be, what I have seen of J, R, L, since you went
away. He continued, you know, probably, to be at
tacked by one symptom after another, aU I suppose
coming from one cause. He had at one time, — it
might be before you went, — a dreadfully hard
cough — it seemed as if he were coughing from
wood rather than flesh and blood. This kept him
awake several hours. The last trouble was sciatic
pain. He had this when I saw him last, and had on
the day before lost his voice, which was then weak.
This was on the tenth of July, when I called with
Mr, Bartlett, James was in his chair, composed
and uncomplaining as always. On the 14th I re
ceived a note from Mr, B, saying that James had
had an attack of very severe pain, and that his situ
ation was critical, — or to that effect. After that I
saw Mabel once. She said that her father wandered
a good deal but could coUect his thoughts to an
swer a question rationally. From this to the end,
the reports were much alike. I suppose him to have
wandered prevaUingly.
The most of cheerfulness that I have seen in hhn

TO MISS GRACE NORTON 263
was at the Whist Club. Here, he at times reached
a moderate gaiety. That institution exactly suited
his fancy. The serious, even solemn work of play
ing (at which he was very quick and clear), with its
interval of sober conviviaUty, was a Uttle play in
two acts, the first, with its kings and queens, re-
nainding him of the great world in which he had
been, — the second with its easy-going good hu
mour, that he was at home and among old friends.
I was always pleased with his references to Mrs.
Battles, which I am very sure he continued to make
even in these later days at the whist table.
It is pleasant to see so many testimonials to his
excellent and charming quaUties, come from aU
directions. His long illness, which made him a secluded in
vaUd was a preparation for his loss. In looking back
I recall no passion or petulance on his part, but al
ways an equable amiabiUty whose value was not
diminished by his entkely manly bearing. It was,
without detracting from his natural goodness, a
noble, principled self-restraint.
The numerous evidences of affectionate regard
that have appeared since his death agree with the
opinion I express.
Undoubtedly you had become famiUarized with
the idea of his death some considerable tune since,
or rather, I presume you had. I don't know whether
you feel his loss more there than you would here,
or not.

264 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
To Waldo Higginson
November 4, 1891.
... I looked in the Transcript for the Abbot '
article which Miss Anna mentioned. It is indeed
very spicy — ginger, hot in the mouth, largely in
fused. I think it will be a difficult indictment to
support. If Professor Royce said that he stole his
idea from another, in so many words, there would
be a flavor of larceny, but if Mr. Abbot made off
unconsciously with an essential idea, as when one
goes innocently home under another man's hat,
and Professor Royce teUs him, "Sir, you have an
other man's hat on," I fear the Faculty wUl not
give him the desired correction.
Doctor Royce is so sedentary, that a little visit
to H. of C.^ and exercise on the tread-wheel might
do him good, and it would certainly give pleasure
to Mr, A,, while the damage to character would be
small as the "literary fellers" have so much spur
ring of that sort, I leave it to you to decide what is
deniable in the case and shall value your opinion if
you will send it some time by Miss Anna (by letter),
I shall try to ascertain Cambridge public opinion,
and send you word of it. The matter seems to me
so new and strange that I imagine our good folks to
be more stupefied than anything else.
As to advice, — my motto is, "Give and take."
• Francis EUingwood Abbot, 1836-1903, Harvard A.B. 1859, had
recently published a philosophical work, the originality of which
Professor Josiah Royce impugned severely.
* House of Correction.

TO MISS ANNA HIGGINSON 265
One party, the giver, is sure to feel self-complacent
and the other is indifferent.
To Miss Anna Higginson
December 10, 1891,
... On Tuesday at or about 9 o'clock I went
with my neighbor Mr. Garret to the polls and voted
"no Ucense" and a variety of other alternatives in
the Australian manner. This ballot may be con
sidered a kangaroo leap in political progress. You
go into a little staU and prepare your Uttle fraction
of the peoples' will for publication in serene quiet.
You then appear before a Uttle mill; your name is
sonorously proclaimed, you present your ballot at
an aperture and it is ground in, and you march out
on the hne by which you entered, — that is, a con
tinuation of that Une, for you may not retrace your
steps. You have now executed your fraction of
sovereign power and you may wear on your hat if
you wish: "Here goes the 6,000th part of a King."
There is no law against such a proceeding.
For my part I felt such elasticity after wielding
my portion of sovereignty, that I went home by
Garden Street via Brattle Street, though the greater
distance. To Miss Anna Higginson
Cambridge, January 22, 1892.
My dear Miss Anna, —
I have your kind card before me and the Littell,
newly arrived, lying tranquil in his bonds with an

266 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
expression on his surface that seems to say, "Read
Marbot!" To whieh I answer, "Yes my dear, but
by daylight!"
I then release him from his swathing and he looks
grateful and seems to say, "Thank you. Good Sir!
It is pleasant to stretch. This travelling by mail is
very cramped — and such company ! I lay cheek
by jowl with an Ayer's PiU pamphlet. I have a
drugged sort of feeling even yet, tho' the air in your
Appian Way seems very pure.
"I heard Mr. Higginson say that you would ap
preciate me, and Miss Anna said, 'Yes'! If this is
complimentary to me, it is also the same to you,
for my 'Marbot' is a very superior affair even in
our high grade of selections. We are very select.
Indeed as my friend Littell says in his pleasant
way, 'We are nothing if not select,'
"There's a good deal of jealousy among the
articles which I, as a Number, have nothing to do
with. If I hear any wranglings I shut my covers
down as close as their elasticity will allow. But you
must excuse me for running on so, but the light and
the warm air and the sense of enlargement after
that horrid leather pouch gave me an irresistible
impulse. I am happy to make your acquaintance !
I shall be happy to form a part of your library."
"Thank you, my dear," I answered in a fatherly
way. "I am obliged to my friend Mr, Higginson
for his kind remembrance and to Miss Anna for an
nouncing it so pleasantly to me,"

TO MISS ANNA HIGGINSON 267
"Oh!" intermpted No. 2482, "I have a great
value for them both, and as a Uterary member of
the family I have become quite intimately ac
quainted with them."
"Have you," said I, "heard Mr. Higginson say
anything about the Divinity School lately?"
"Why," said 2482, "I thought his mind was on
that topic once when he spoke to himself."
"What did he say?" I asked.
"He said that he feared his deputy out there
carried liberaUty too near indifference and was
making wild work, — but I am not sure that he
was alluding to the School,"
"WeU now, 24," I said, "you had better take
some rest after your journey from the Metrop
olis," "Good Night," he said; "but let me just teU you
that Miss Anna read my 'Marbot' all through to
Mr. Higginson."
"Is n't she a Reader?"
To Miss Anna Higginson
Cambridge, March 9, 1892,
My dear Miss Anna, —
I suppose Waldo will want an exact account of
the School (great responsibility as it is to me,)
While the athletic games continued, there was a
good degree of sober industry, directed to the steady
acquisition of knowledge — but when they went
into winter quarters doctrinal eccentricities and

268 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
animosities developed, which allowed only a gov
ernment of compromise and conciliation.
The professors have to use the utmost caution
in their lectures not to speak too hardly of any
heretics whose doctrines may have been partially
adopted by some of the students. Violent language
and even missiles have made prudence familiar to
the teachers. In speaking of any teacher of false
doctrine they enlarge as much as possible on his
natural good qualities and apologize for his errors.
For instance, the Ophules. "This deluded (as is
now by most considered) but entirely respectable
class adopted a belief which made them the ap
parent worshippers of the serpent. This we do not
assert to be the truth, but there was some appar
ent ground for the statement. Take the Mani-
cheans. These sectaries arose from a respectable
source, though they have been considered to in
dulge in wUd reveries and unintelligible schemes of
creation and providence. Manes might perhaps
by the voice of candor be pronounced only a rather
too advanced man for his time, i.e., in boldness of
thought and of speech."
Of Tom Paine the professor says in his desk:
"Mr, Thomas Paine chose an eccentric path of in-
creduUty which caused deep regret to those who
could not follow him in his ideas and may be con
sidered perhaps (by those who differ from him)
(though himself supported by a very considerable
number of respectable citizens) as more ingenious

TO MISS M. L. WARE 269
than pmdent." Voltaire: "A man of excellent
abUity but considered by judicious men to have
perverted his powers to the propagation of skep
ticism and (as some assert) of infidehty." Simon
Magus: "Although classed among the dubious
claunants of the title of Christian, his error was
perhaps not unnatural to a disciple newly emerged
from paganism, in assigning a pecuniary and com
mercial value to spiritual gifts. Such is the state
of the school."
This to Waldo. I have often heard them say
" If we only had our old Overseer here ! He was the
fellow! He'd pluck you up a heresy as ff it was
chickweed, in a second, and yet none of us got out
with him."
"I remember when I had a turn to the Gnostic
heresy," says one to me, — "he cured me of it in
no time. He had the Doctor to me and got me put
on diet — and had ice put on my neck and a mus
tard poultice on both arms, Peters, too, was a vio
lent Hopkinsian. He put him on regulations of one
sort and another and he was well in a week."
So you see how much I need you to take my place.
To Miss M, L, Ware
Cambridge, March 15, 1892.
(Please burn this when read)
My dear Benefactress, —
Don't you (go an') think me ungrateful because
you have not heard anything from me aU this

270 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
tune. Gratitude doesn't evaporate because it isn't
expressed. And now that I have the conductor in my hand
we will see if there is not some gratitude on tap (if
I may use that expression to a young lady).
Mary Ware ! It was beautifully done of you to
look after that old man and see him, so far as you
could, safe on his way. I suppose it really seemed a
prudent thing to you, and I suppose was prudent,
but it is very hard for an old gent to fully realize it.
Black ran the tide in the river below;
The old man rose and said, " I must go.
Home must I go by the slow-rolling car
Though the night is cold and the journey far."
The fair damsel laughed, and she said, " 0, Nay,
If thou goest at all it shall be in my way;
And a vow I have made to the blessed St. Roche,
Thou only shalt go in a Boston coach."
The poem goes on to tell how the old man got
out, and after a little waiting entered a car, rode
to Cambridge, ahd walked up from the Square and
found it cold as Greenland, and had visions of a
coroner's jury sitting all comfortably upon him.
The last two Imes are : —
The old gent crept slowly to No. 5,
Saying, "Bless Mary Ware that I am alive."
It has given me a deal of trouble to make up even
this outline of a narrative from the poem with such
very large omissions, but I wished you to see some
thing like historical evidence of my gratitude.

TO MISS ANNA HIGGINSON 271
which is shown by the unknown writer in the ex
clamation in the last line. . . .
I have not a particle of village news to tell you,
I am out of the range of it. My field of vision is
Appian Way, which is a very tranquU thorough
fare most of the time. . . , Please remember me to
your mama and allow me to sign myself
Your old friend,
P.S, Rose (the Cat) would be happy to see any
of your cat's young friends, or herself, if she does
not fear the grippe, out here, to tea. Rose must
have heard me repeat the foregoing invitation to
myself, for she tells me in her language that that is
no sort of an invitation, and suggests as follows —
"Miss Rose, the Established Cat at No, 5 Appian
Way, would be happy to see her friend, the Estab
Ushed Cat at No, — Brimmer Street, to tea any
afternoon, or any of her young friends who would
like to vary metropolitan Iffe by a short stay in the
suburbs. Rose." To Miss Anna Higginson
Cambridge, June 22, 1892.
Tell Waldo that the School is aU right. One of
the pupUs, or rather scholars, is deshous to join a
circus this summer to help pay his expenses. I have
referred him to Waldo. I should say it was going a
little too far.
Commencement is at hand, both of College and
Annex, and their only effect on me is to turn my

272 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
mind back to the old genuine Commencement, Do
encourage Waldo to renunisce in like manner, and
if he wUl to indulge his fancy with a boyish repast
of that period. Bill of Fare
Watermelon — peach — peach — watermelon —
plums, if attainable — ice cream, if financially pos
sible — watermelon — spruce beer — peaches —
watermelon — spruce beer.
To Miss Anna Higginson
Cambridge, September 30, 1892.
My dear Miss Anna, —
You recollect the pubUsher with the hysteric
poor author — "But my dear young man! But
my dear young man!"
So I to you. But my dear Miss Anna ! But my
dear Miss Anna !
As if I were not already enough possessed with
the spirit of free travel, free board and free quarters,
you have now done your best to aggravate my ap
petite for all those luxuries.
I shall now enquire of the conductor, whether Mr.
Higginson, to his knowledge, has friends resident
on the route to Cohasset — and if so who they are,
and where they dwell — and on the strength of the
extremely robust invitation I have received shall
feel it my duty to call — introduce myself — and
(if received with the cordiality that I expect) to
stay a day or two with each of them. For this pur-

TO MISS ANNA HIGGINSON 273
pose (if executed) I shall purchase a new dilatory
ticket, reserving Waldo's for the return.
I have got my head so fuU of this generous and
noble idea (proper only of course to those who keep
house) that I should hardly dare trust myself on
the road just now, I fear that if I fell into pleasant
discourse with any comfortable-looking person I
should offer to stop where he did and dine with him.
It wUl take some tune and reflection to expel this
exaggeration from my fancy. Meanwhile I overrun
with enthusiasm and applause for Waldo's and
your noble and sensible ideas on the subject of
hospitaUty. Beside what I have said — I have to apply the
most powerful moral leverage before I can hoist
myseff into the athletic attitude of a traveller.
"Cohasset. A town situated in Plymouth County,
Massachusetts, Longitude — Latitude etc." See
Gazetteer. You would hardly beUeve me if I told you that
in my present state of home adhesiveness, those
words, "Plymouth County," have thrown me into
a cold perspiration.
I went to the MetropoUs yesterday and am scarce
ly done glorifying over that Plymouth County!
(There! ff you'U beUeve me, another chiU!)
But I tell you, Miss Anna, I wiU be "girding up
my loins" (fine old scripture phrase!) to come as
first proposed, and aU the time with great admira
tion and gratitude for the urgent epistle.

274 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
Now for our news. They are coming back —
there are signs of them, but the great wave crested
with trunks and — and — bedsteads, for all I know,
has not broken on us yet.
The College Cats, i,e,, the Memorial Hall Cats,
are waiting anxiously for the re-opening, I fear
that they have had to Uve mostly on reminiscences.
To G. W. Storey October 22, 1892.
I meant to answer your note yesterday by ap
pearing in Brookline, I went in over the new bridge
and on Boylston Street encountered the procession,
which I managed to cut across, I called on John
Dwight and then repaired to the R.R. and found
that no cars were running on Huntington Ave. I
took a herdic to Tremont House, thinking there
might be some car running thence, but there was
no sign. Then I said, "I will make for my native
home." So with some pains I got over to the east
erly sidewalk, and very shortly found myself ar
rested and vigorously compressed by one of the
toughestbits of crowd that I have seen. I hadmeant
to sUp quietly down School Street and through by
the old Court House, and here was I, an aged gent
from the mral districts, jammed in with a pressure
of about a ton to a square inch — lame leg and all,
with nothing but this restricted privilege with sky
privUege attached, for that was the only free pros
pect. A few minutes before I was a comfortable

TO C, W. STOREY 275
burgess going to slip down School Street — slip
down School Street! shp down the CordiUeras —
wade through the Straits of MageUan and take a
pleasant stroll to the end of Cape Horn. No, Sir!
It was so that Circumstance answered me. No,
Sh!! Make yourseff as comfortable as the situa
tion wiU permit. The procession must get through
sometime before midnight. So I stood it out as weU
as might be, till at last I made my way to the road
way and boarded a wagon with two Italians in it,
and paying a small fee secured a seat. After resting
went to Parker's and got a pewter and some bread
and old cheese, and then made for home.
When I heard the ribs crack in the crowd yester
day I said, "This is progress! we are clearing away
the dffficulties!" To C. W. Storey January 28. 1893.
Somehow or other with my sparse and slender so
cial relations I feel a very much occupied man. The
fact is that, inertia fixed and solid being my base
of operations, I am a hard-worked man. At every
move, I have to take the attitude of an athlete,
and burst the bonds that have woven themselves
about me, I am now recovering from exhaustion
consequent on a trip to NewtonvUle, This was a
violent shock to my sense of cohesion and perma
nence. It was three days, at least, before I could
identify myself with the sohd, sedate inhabitant

276 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
of No. 5 A.W, and my self-consciousness, perplexed
and shaken, seemed constantly to ask, "Mais que
diable allait-il faire dans cette NewtonvUle?"
1 went to a "quartervadoUar" concert last night,
and feel more fashionable today than you would
expect from such a dissipation.
To Miss M. L. Ware
Cambridge, April 12, 1893.
. . . Your Afghan has produced an extraordin
ary effect on me. I find myself (now and then) ex
periencing an assimilation to the thoughts and
habits of the people whose garb I have partially
adopted. Having a vague idea that they at a re
mote period were forced into Mohammedanism, I
grow warm with a sense of their wrongs, and am
seized with a desire to avenge them — a patriotic
desire I may call it,
I find that the only way to allay this fervor is to
arm myself (in imagination), to put on your pres
ent (over a complete suit of armor) and sally forth
into the past centuries against the foe.
You would be pleased to see the heads slip off
like sUced cucumbers — colossal Paynims "cloven
to the chine." When my rage for massacre is
satiated, I return to my normal peaceful frame of
mind — fold the Afghan, and lay it aside, until an
other access of hostilitv against the oppression of
my adopted kinsfolk.

TO C, E, NORTON 277
To C, E. Norton
Cambridge, November 12, 1893.
My dear Mr, Norton, —
I take great pleasure in receiving "J, R, L.'s"
letters 1 from you.
My thanks may seem a little tardy, but they
are not warmed up! No! Gratitude, working hi
her crypt with a pleasant smUe, has endued them
with fresh and unmeasured warmth, which with a
pleasant touch of the businesslike, "she warrants
durable." She says that she is pleased to be again indebted
to you, and asks me if she may send you her kindest
regards. All that I hear speak of it pronounce your
work well done, I hope to have it read to me very
soon. Please not mind my handwriting — I can't read
it myseff. With kind regards and renewed supplementary
thanks. Yours,
From this time on John Holmes's letters, usually
written by an amanuensis, are few, but they still
have up to the last his characteristic touch.
' Letters of James Russell Lowell, edited by Charles Eliot Norton.
2 vols. New York: Harper & Bro., 1894.

278 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
To Miss M, L, Ware
Cambridge, December 11, 1893,
. . . Have no doubts about the fit, the color, the
texture or the ornamentation of your coat. Public
opinion declares emphatically in favor of all, I am
considered in Appian Way to be in the foremost
rank of the beau monde and representative of the
haut ton.
The lace on my coat meets my eye and gives a
pleasant suggestion of a comeUness due to friendly
effort in my behaff, — What were man, did not
Woman take him?
I am raised in a moment from economical medio
crity to — splendor, shall I say? Yes, splendor! —
as measured by that public opinion to which
I am ever loyal — the pubhc opinion of Appian
Way. To C, E, Norton
Cambridge, November 9, 1894.
A short time since, an interviewer gave to
the newspapers some remarks with regard to my
father, — and, I am sure without your consent.
This is my fixed behef, and I wish no confirma
tion — much less dissent. My belief is in the na
ture of a "Resolved," and settles the question for
me. If I had casually overheard these remarks with
out your knowledge, they would by no means have

TO C, E, NORTON 279
caused the surprise and filial horror that might
perhaps have been expected.
They are such as any "liberal" would make with
regard to the generality of "Orthodox" ministers
and sermons of my father's or any other precedent
New England period. The sermons of my father's
time were in the traditional form handed down
from the early Puritans and designed only for Cal
vinistic believers. To others they must have been
dry as the sand of the desert at midday. Any
preacher who strayed out from the Calvinistic
fortification to gather pictorial stimulants to piety
from earth and nature, which, overlaid with a pious
varnish, he might present to his hearers, would have
been frowned on and snubbed for his pains, and
warned to attend only to vital piety and the saving
of souls.
Almost the only eloquence open to the minister
was that of the tocsin and fire-alarm, which brought
twenty thousand people to hear Whitefield on Bos
ton Common.
Dante should have a place for the "interviewer"
— let us say a reporter's box, floored with a
steady half-frozen vitality — a distant view of
pardon — a stern keeper holding a golden ticket
ready for him so soon as he completes a page
of reported matter, whUe all sorts of the most
pernicious and attractive mmors msh by his
ear, leaving an impression just this side of com
pleteness, and baffle his skill — with snatches of

280 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
music from celestial fields to aggravate his situa
tion, I shall keep my fond recollection of you at my
mother's funeral, and since, intact, and am
Your old friend John Holmes,
I find it very hard to write, for I cannot read
what I have written,
I should like a postal card from you with "Re
ceived — All right!" upon it.
To Miss M, L, Ware April 29, 1895.
... I have been to Provincetown (on the 18th by
boat) and returned on the 19th, with Professor
Thayer of the Law School, a most agreeable man
— that being the purpose for which I went.
We go by sea and go by land.
In Provincetown, they go by sand.
For surely you don't consider sand as land when I
saw there the tips of trees just emerging from the
sandy billows that had drowned them.
Contrary to my expectation I found P. a very
neat town — painted and neatly fenced when there
was spare room, up to the beau ideal of a well-
kept New England town. Here, I suppose, is about
the place for a phUosophical reflection — but I
can't think of anything as expressive.

TO MRS. GEORGE P, LAWRENCE 281
Perhaps we may say that it ought to be an emi
nently social place. In the town they have plank
sidewalks and can circulate easily — all outside is
over shoes in sand and there is no particular place
to go to, that I am aware of. They have all scenic
properties of ocean, the roar, the swash, the howl,
the whistle, the scream of the tempest without
stirring from their firesides, where they have the
domestic thunder of the chimney and the sputtering
of the wreck-wood.
Outside in a gale they say the driving sand is
intolerable — that it scratches the spectacles of
those who wear such armor.
Thus I have tried to fortify my " philosophical
reflection." To Mrs. George P. Lawrence
5 Appian Way, November 13, 1895.
My dear Mrs. Lawrence, —
Your " cottage cheese " is a yery pleasant article,
as it has shown by throwing me into a kind of agri
cultural ecstasy in which I fancied I was the owner
of a comfortable farm, and a lowly cot, with half a
dozen cows and cutting twenty tons of hay yearly.
I was just on the point of going to Boston to pur
chase salt for my stock when I awoke from my
vision. I write you because no evidence of gratitude
was forwarded to you last evening. Please accept
my thanks. Very truly yours.

282 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
To Miss Grace Norton January 9, 1897.
Christmas is a benevolent Blizzard. It drives
people with warm hearts, distracted heads, and
perturbed countenance, in all directions. It blows
from due South (no East in it) and has a peculiar
softness that disguises its force. It has the prop
erty of shedding an inward light which gives a
pleasant mental coloring and causes people whose
benevolence of [illegible] overflow to go about wish
ing people Merry Christmas with a severe con
strained expression. Most people, though, are iUu
minated by it.
Christmas is a season of perplexed uneasy happi
ness, but it has the equality to give a jocund form
to things and to make people in a certain degree
enjoy their unhappiness, and publish their miseries
with an air of self-satisfaction.
The Blizzard part of Christmas has the curious
power of being attracted by pecuniary value, it will
turn a hundred purses inside out in a second without
the least degree of perceptive violence. . . .
Meanwhile nearly four fifths of a century look
down upon you pleasantly for your kindness to an
"old gent."
Note. The term "old gent" bears the same rela
tion to the full length expression that the "cut
away" coat does to the longer, broad-skirted arti
cle. And — old gents wear " cut-aways " nowadays.

TO C. E. NORTON 283
To C. E. Norton
Cambridge, August 24, 1897.
My dear Mr. Norton, —
After getting your pamphlet read to me, in two
parts, the first by a friend whom I did not wish to
detain, the remainder by Mr. Boott, I wrote on it
"a model Memoir,"!
This great "Imprimatur" I hope you wUl ap
prove of.
You have performed your friendly office admir
ably, and I hope that you enjoy an honest self -ap
proval equivalent to the labor it must have cost you.
I have been slow in acknowledging your atten
tion, but certainly have not been diverted from
my purpose by any gaieties, for I don't consider
sciatica-lameness as coming under that head.
With thanks and kindest regards, I am yours.
P.S. I can't read my letters you know — and my
"helper" is of course on vacation, like all the rest
of the [world?] so I have to send all the very possi
ble blunders. ... I ought to say that I valued Pro
fessor Child as highly as anybody but necessarily
had to borrow to a certain extent from others'
opinions, as I knew him personally so little.
' Memoir of Francis J. Child. From the Proceedings of the Amer
ican Academy of Arts and Scierwes, vol. xxxii; reprinted with addi
tions in the Harvard Graduates' Magazine, December, 1897.

CHAPTER VIII
conclusion
Like many another life-long invalid, John
Holmes possessed a singular vital tenacity. He
outlived his more active brother Wendell by more
than four years, and when he died, on January 27,
1899, of his old cronies only John Bartlett survived.
But he was cared for in his last days by friends of a
younger generation.
One of these friends was a neighbor, Mr. George
P. Lawrence, whose daughter writes: —
"I think that Mr. Holmes had a horror of old
age, especially the great loneliness of the time
when ' the milestones into headstones change, 'neath
every one a friend.' I can remember how much he
missed that poet, for he used to tell my mother that
hers was the best 'mayonnaise' he had eaten since
Jimmy Lowell was there to make it for him. One
of my father's dearest possessions was a volume of
'Hearts' Ease and Rue,' given Mr. Holmes by the
author, on the title page of which is written : —
Much hearts' ease have 1 found in you.
But never any root of rue.
"Books of many sorts Mr. Holmes loved. My
father used to go and read with him several eve
nings a week, for in those days his eyesight was
beginning to fail and his only resource was his

CONCLUSION 285
beloved Homer, which he repeated aloud in the on
coming darkness. When my father came they had
one amusing Uttle ceremony that I remember. My
father would ring twice very slowly. Mr. Holmes
would open the door a crack and demand 'the
counter-sign.' It would be given, some quotation
from a French history that they were reading at
the time. Then, and then only, was admittance
gained. "On one memorable evening the door-beU was
pulled the requisite number of times. The door was
soon opened a fraction and a ferocious voice de
manded, 'The counter-sign!' No answer. Mr,
Holmes tried again and louder: 'The counter-sign 1'
"From the foot of the steps, out of the darkness
of Appian Way, a voice with the unmistakable ac
cent of Erin quavered back, 'Excuse me, sor, but
is this Miss Fogarty's Employment Office, sor?'
"The next night there was only one ring at the
required time, but Mr, Holmes came down him
seff, — Miss Tolman went to rest with the birds,
— and opened the door. 'What can I do for you?
I cannot quite see,'
"A faint gas-light on the corner of Brattle Street
dimly outlmed a figure in a long coat, ' Is this Miss
Fogarty's Employment Office, sor?' Then Mr,
Holmes's shout could be heard the length of the
street. 'Lawrence, you rascal, come in here this
instant.' So my father went upstairs and both were
soon comfortable before the charcoal fire.

286 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
"They read poetry, history, essays, or adven
ture. Though very fond of a tale of romance, Mr.
Holmes could never endure lengthy descriptions.
On one occasion the author ran on for some pages
along a lane bordered with autumn flowers. When
he could bear it no longer Mr, Holmes protested,
'0 [Brother Lawrence, Brother Lawrence, cut out
the goldenrod!' Thenceforth 'goldenrod' came to
be a synonym with us for 'flowery language.'
" In his last years he grew quite blind and with
drew closer into himself. His faithful old house
keeper, Miss Maria Tolman, who had promised his
mother never to leave him, was dead. The man who
looked after his wants used to take him out to the
Common and leave him there on a bench, much to
my mother's distress when the weather was bleak.
She would send me out to bring him home. But
because I was such smaU fry, he always insisted on
coming home with me. There he would upbraid my
mother for allowing 'that child to go out there
alone,' while we would look at each other, she with
a sad Uttle smile, and I with a vast, proud one, at
the success of our plot; for from Mason Street to
Appian Way there were no street-crossings and Mr.
Holmes would go straight and safely home.
"His last Christmas day, a short time before his
death, he spent with us, as usual, for his blindness
made dining out among strangers difficult. He was
very joyous because the doctor had said he might
eat anything he Uked, even to plum pudding. But

CONCLUSION 287
we knew the meaning of the words that 'nothing
would hurt him now,' and our hearts were heavy.
I remember that dinner far better, his enjoyment
in everything, so contagious that we were all merry,
whatever lay beneath. The next day he came round
with his usual Christmas box of candy which he
had left behind the day before. I opened the door
when I saw hun coming and was instmcted to give
the package to my mother. I begged hun to come
in, but he would not. He had another box to de
liver. A moment he rested on the stone slab at the
side of the steps, then got up heavily, — I longed
to help hun but dared not, — and started down
James Street with a rather tired little smile. I
stood watching him go, shivering in the blast that
swept up Brattle Street. I never saw him again !
"Here are the only verses by Mr. Holmes which
have been saved, so far as I know, but there must
have been others. He was always so modest that
one could only discover his writing by accident.
The following sonnet to an old hen was jotted down
by old Mrs. Edward B. Hall, as she and Mr,
Holmes watched the hens and chickens in the
dooryard of an old farm at West Rindge.
SONNET TO AN OLD HEN
Unintellectual bunch of feathers and of bones.
Clumsy of gait and squawking in thy tones,
Thinkst thou these little failings I 'd abuse
Or to thy many virtues praise refuse?

288 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
A plaintive chick, divorced from mother's care,
1 see thee, patient, earn thy daily fare.
And older grown, set careful day and night,
Until thy numerous offspring break to light;
Then, pattern mother, scour the teeming fields
For all which Nature to her fledgling yields.
Love, patience, energy, unfailing thrift.
How many bipeds boast all these their gift?
I dare not further go, respected hen.
Each step I take casts new reproach on men.
Other fragments of Mr. Holmes's versifying
have come to light, and I print them, not so much
because of their poetical value, as because of their
characteristic expression of his own sweet and
humor-loving nature.
These lines, caUed "In Memoriam," were written
to four old friends.
IN MEMORIAM
In the pale throng that waits on Lethe's wharf
The outward tide that is to set them off,
Lately, at times not far apart, were four
For whom we carve this tablet on the shore.
J. S. Dwight
Thou, J., in age the first, music subdued
And to thee taught her every turn and mood.
Some "accidental" marred life's rhythm in thee,
And death resolved it into harmony.
Pure soul! Where'er it is that thou hast come,
Thou with the Masters old hast found thy home.
Waldo Higginson
Thou, W., comest next — a man complete.
Duties, allurements, dangers strong to meet.

CONCLUSION 289
Wise counsellor, thou, and ever faithful friend.
Aye prompt the weak a helping hand to lend.
When illness laid his heavy bonds on thee.
That thou might'st ne'er again know liberty,
There was no weakness, no distressed complaint
To show that the strong heart was growing faint.
So crept until the last each Ungering day.
Till calm, as one asleep, he passed away.
H. W, Torrey
And next comes H., with talent bright endued,
Who like a child among dull Freshmen stood.
And calmly went upon his studious way.
Till tall, grave Seniors came beneath his sway.
At last, content with his collegiate fame.
On Harvard's rolls he left an honored name.
Charles Storey
And last. Oh, C, we call thee back to view, —
Quick brain, large heart! in all things frank and true;
Ardent as ever was unchristened Turk,
Thy pen thou sharpenest for unfinished work.
That done, thou gladly soughtst the social ray
That throws its cheer on man's laborious day.
Then, from thy ample treasury, wouldst thou pour
Thy never-dwindling stock of social lore.
And keep the festal spirits in a glow.
Nor seem to know that thou wast doing so.
Till grave old Time was filled with such delight,
Himself scarce knew the hour of day or night.
Thine illustrations apt and comments shrewd
The lagging conversation still renewed;
No circle of thy friends was e'er complete
So long as thine remained an empty seat.
The well-worn vestment given you at birth
Is taken back again by Mother Earth.
You! When we ask or what you are, or where,
Our only answer is the empty air.

290 LETTERS OF JOHN HOLMES
So goes the world along with ready tread.
And makes its note, and leaves behind its dead;
And in the grave's repose at last we see,
A tranquil undisturbed indemnity.
So ended a most unusual life. In spite of a seri
ous handicap, John Holmes expressed himself as
fully as did his more fortunate and applauded
brother. But the sweetness of his disposition, the
gift of humor, and the delightful whimsicahty which
were so strangely and finely nungled in him, giving
him a unique place in the hearts of his friends
to whom he revealed himself, would have been
lost to the world but for this legacy of his letters.
He wrote them without the faintest thought that
they would ever be printed, for he was the most
genuinely modest and seff-distmstful of men, and
most faithfully do these letters represent him,
Lowell said, "Wendell markets all his goods, John
gives his to his friends."

THE END

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