Doctor Holmes was so deeply affected by this delicate token of esteem that, afterwards, in acknowledging the cup by letter, he said that the tribute was so unexpected it made him speechless. He was quite sure, however, that they did not mistake aphasia for acardia—his heart was in its right place, though his tongue forgot its office.
In the address to his class, the Professor gave an interesting review of his thirty-five years' connection with the school. Then he referred to his early college days, and to his studies in Paris, and added many delightful reminiscences of the famous French savants whose lectures he attended at that time. A full report of this address may be found in the Boston Medical and Surgical Journal, for December 7, 1882.
This, one of his most interesting essays, is also reprinted in one of Doctor Holmes' later volumes, entitled Medical Essays.
On the evening of April 12, 1883, a complimentary dinner was given Doctor Holmes at Delmonico's, by the medical profession of New York City. The reception opened at about half-past six, and soon after that hour Doctor Holmes entered the rooms with Doctor Fordyce Barker. The guests, numbering some two hundred and twenty-five in all, were seated at six tables, the table of honor occupying the upper end of the room, and decorated with banks of choice flowers.
The menus were cleverly arranged in the form of small books bound in various-colored plush. A dainty design in gilt, representing a scalpel and pen, surrounded by a laurel wreath, adorned the covers, and inside was the stanza:
A few can touch the magic string,
And noisy fame is proud to win them,
Alas, for those that never sing,
But die with all their music in them.
At the top of the leaf containing the bill of fare were the lines:
You know your own degree; sit down; at first and last a hearty welcome.
at the end: