Carlyle's laugh, and other surprisesHigginson, Thomas Wentworth
History
Carlyle's laugh, and other surprises
Higginson, Thomas Wentworth
American literature -- History and criticism; Authors, American
But he matured and mellowed well; his social life at Washington was
more satisfactory to himself and others than that he led in New York;
he had voluntarily transplanted himself to a community which, with all
its faults and crudities, sets intellect above wealth, and readily
conceded the highest place to a man like Bancroft. Foreign ministers
came accredited to him as well as to the government; he was the friend
of every successive administration, and had as many guests as he cared
to see at his modest Sunday evening receptions. There he greeted every
one cordially, aided by a wife amply gifted in the amenities. He was kind
to everybody, and remembered the father or grandfather of anybody who
had any such ancestors whom it was desirable to mention. In summer, at
Newport, it was the same; his residence was like that described by his
imagination in one of his own early poems—
“Where heaven lends her loveliest scene,
A softened air, a sky serene,
Along the shore where smiles the sea.”
Unlike most Newport “cottages,” his house was within sight of the ocean;
between it and the sea lay the garden, and the “rose in Kenmure’s cap”
in the Scottish ballad was not a characteristic more invariable than the
same flower in Mr. Bancroft’s hand or buttonhole. His form was familiar,
too, on Bellevue Avenue, taking as regularly as any old-fashioned
Englishman his daily horseback exercise. At the same time he was one of
the few men who were capable, even in Newport, of doing daily the day’s
work; he rose fabulously early in the morning, and kept a secretary or
two always employed. Since John Quincy Adams, there has not been among us
such an example of laborious, self-exacting, seemingly inexhaustible old
age; and, unlike Adams, Mr. Bancroft kept his social side always fresh
and active, and did not have, like the venerable ex-President, to force
himself out in the evening in order “to learn the art of conversation.”
This combination, with his monumental literary work, will keep his memory
secure. It will possibly outlive that of many men of greater inspiration,
loftier aims, and sublimer qualities.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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