He remembered everything. If he had not read a book he had
heard of it and had a pretty clear notion of what it contained. The only
picture-gallery he ever visited was the small National Gallery in
London, but from the few master-pieces he saw there he formed a quite
correct judgment of the art of painting and could talk about any picture
in an interesting way. He had also a good ear for music and divided with
Lowell the honor among American literati of being able to appreciate
music of the best quality. Besides this, his knowledge of practical
affairs such as farming, gardening, housebuilding, fishing, sailing and
other industrial arts was well-nigh endless also. How his head, which
was not one of the largest, could contain it all I do not know. He could
not recite the odes of Horace from memory; but he was able to repeat
lengthy quotations from both English and foreign authors, and that
without ever having committed them. In religious writings and
controversies he was as much at home as a good lawyer in the statutes.
In his wanderings he had become acquainted with many curious, strange
and original people, and had gained their confidence by his friendly,
open-hearted manner. Perhaps he had learned as much from the great book
of human nature as from all other books; so that his fund of information
was fairly inexhaustible. He may almost be said to have contained the
material for another Shakespeare.
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