Fifteen Days: An Extract from Edward Colvil's Journal

by Mary Lowell Putnam

I have never known the Doctor in finer vein than that first evening. We were only three to listen to him, but it was long since he had had even so large an audience capable of admiring, I will not say of appreciating him. Whatever his topic, he enchained our attention; but he made his power most felt, perhaps, when treating of his own specialty, or scientific subjects connected with it. He is, as he told us, emphatically a practical man, preferring facts to speculations. He propounds no theories of his own, but he develops those of others very happily, setting forth the most opposite with the same ingenuity and clearness. When, in these expositions, he sometimes approached the limits where earthly science merges in the heavenly, Harry's face showed his mind tending powerfully forward. But the Doctor always stopped short of the point to which he seemed leading, and was on the ground again without sharing in the fall he had prepared for his listeners.

Very entertaining to me were Dr. Borrow's accounts of his travelling experiences and observations in our own State and neighborhood. His judgments he had brought with him, and I soon found that his inquiry had been conducted with the view rather of confirming than of testing them. I felt myself compelled to demur at some of his conclusions; but I cannot flatter myself that I did anything towards shaking his faith in them: he only inculcated them upon me with greater zeal and confidence. When a little debate of this kind occurred, Harry followed it attentively, but took no part in it. I sometimes felt that his sympathies were on my side, and my opponent certainly thought so,—for, when I pressed him a little hard, he would turn upon his travelling-companion a burst of refutation too lively to be addressed to a new acquaintance. The pleasant laugh in Harry's eyes showed him amused, yet still far within the limits of respect.

Sometimes, in the course of his narrations, or of his disquisitions upon men and manners, American or foreign, the Doctor turned for corroboration to Harry, who gave it promptly and gladly when he could. If he felt himself obliged to dissent, he did so with deference, and forbore to urge his objections, if they were overruled, as they commonly were.

I found, however, before the first evening was over, that, with all his modesty, Harry maintained his independence. When the Doctor, who is no Utopist, found occasion to aim a sarcasm at the hopes and prospects of the lovers of humanity, or pronounced in a slighting tone some name dear to them, Harry never failed to put in a quiet, but express protest, which should at least exempt him from complicity. And Dr. Borrow would turn upon him a satirical smile, which gradually softened into an indulgent one, and then take up again quietly the thread of his discourse. At times, Harry was forced into more direct and sustained opposition. I observed that his tone was then, if less positive than his antagonist's, quite as decided. If the Doctor's words came with all the weight of a justifiable self-esteem, Harry's had that of deep and intimate conviction. I am persuaded that conversation would lose all zest for the Doctor, if conducted long with persons who agreed with him. He kindles at the first hint of controversy, as the horse at the sound of the trumpet. To Harry sympathy is dearer than triumph; he enters upon contest only when compelled by loyalty to principle or to friendship.

The elder man needs companionship as much as the younger, and perhaps enjoys it as much, though very differently. The admiration he excites reacts upon him and stimulates to new efforts. Harry's tender and grateful nature expands to affectionate interest, as a flower to the sunshine.

The Doctor has a certain intellectual fervor, which quickens the flow of his thought and language, and enables him to lead you, willingly fascinated, along the road he chooses to walk in for the time. When Harry is drawn out of his usual modest reserve to maintain a position, his concentrated enthusiasm sometimes gives to a few words, spoken in his calm, resolute voice, the effect of a masterly eloquence. These words pass into your heart to become a part of its possessions.

I think I never fully understood the meaning of the expression personal influence, until I knew Harry Dudley. What a divine gift it is, when of the force and quality of his! What a bright line his life-stream will lead through the happy region it is to bless! And he holds this magical power so unconsciously! Here is another point of contrast between him and his friend. Dr. Borrow is very sensible of all his advantages, and would be surprised, if others were insensible to them. No one can do him this displeasure; his merits and acquirements must be manifest on first acquaintance. But Harry Dudley,—you do not think of asking whether he has this or that talent or accomplishment. You feel what he is, and love him for it, before you know whether he has anything.

These two companions, so different, are yet not ill-assorted. Harry's simplicity and strength together prevent him from being injured by his friend's love of domination, which might give umbrage to a more self-conscious, or overbear a weaker man; his frankness and courage only make his esteem of more value to the Doctor, who, with all his tendency to the despotic, is manly and loves manliness.

I shall not attempt to write down for you any of the Doctor's brilliant dissertations. You will know him some time, I hope, and he will do himself a justice I could not do him. Harry you must know. He will go to see you on his way home, and, if he does not find you, will make a visit to you the object of a special journey. He will be a new bond between us. We shall watch his course together. It will not, it cannot, disappoint us; for "spirits are not finely touched, but to fine issues."

They are gone. We have promised each other that this parting shall not be the final one. And yet my heart was heavy to-day at noon. When the gate fell to after they had passed out, it seemed to me the sound had in it something of determined and conclusive. I rebuked the regret almost before it had made itself felt. Dudley is going out into the world, which has so much need of men like him, true, brave, steadfast. I can have no fear or anxiety for him. He must be safe everywhere in God's universe. Do not all things work together for good to those that love Him?