He was more of a gentleman than many who
pride themselves on that distinction, and he had very good manners, but
not a very good style. A noted snob of those days and parasite of
distinguished people said that he could have no faith in the genius of a
man who dressed like Mr. Wasson. He would probably have dressed much
better if he had possessed more abundant means, but I never saw him
dressed in a way that anyone could rightfully complain of. His voice was
pleasant but there was neither grace nor elegance in his speech. Usually
it was direct, forcible, monotonous, with a very distinct enunciation;
but sometimes it became drawling and wearisome with a peculiar accent on
certain words which struck the ear too pointedly. This however was only
among his friends; it did not happen in public. But all thought of human
imperfections vanished as soon as he began to talk on one of his
favorite topics; and there was a long list of them. You recognized that
you were in the presence of a master mind, an analytical genius, who
could take the world to pieces and put it together before your very
eyes.
His conversation was better than his writing; in form, in freedom, and
in warmth of feeling. He must have been the finest talker of his time.
Carlyle could match him perhaps in quite a different manner; but I have
never heard of any others. Lowell was what would have been called in
Shakespeare's time a "witty and conceited gentleman" and John Weiss
still more so; but neither of them could give the flow of original
thought which came from Wasson like a pure mountain stream.
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