was his nature to be achingly considerate of others, so that he was
a better friend than critic; and he was as careful of their good
opinion as of their comfort. Always doubtful what treatment his work
would meet, and even what it deserved, he would ask his friends to say
nothing about it, unless they liked it. "One condemning whisper," said
one of them, "sounded louder in his ear than the plaudits of
thousands." Socially, on the other hand, he never had the least doubt
of himself. The tastes and manner of a gentleman did not need to be
acquired; there was no question of his fitness for any society. During
his whole career, thrown as he was into the choicest company of two
continents, there was evidently not the least suspicion of
embarrassment or awkwardness in his quiet bearing.

He was in the largest sense of the word a generous man; and even in
the smaller sense his generosity has distinction and significance.
Addison we know to have been a little on the hither side of
open-handedness. Goldsmith was by his own satirical confession the
"good-natured man," to whom giving was a conscious indulgence. Irving
was simply not aware that he gave; to share his best was a natural
function. And it is our sense of this, of being admitted as a matter
of course to share in all that he is and has, which largely explains
his delightfulness as man and author.

Citizen of the world as he was in his literary character, in practical
life his Americanism was real and potent. He deplored the War of 1812
and the war with Mexico, but believed firmly that it was no man's duty
to go back of the government's decision. In the conduct of his mission
to Spain he showed the utmost steadiness, loyalty, and self-possession
in many trying situations. He was, in short, a valuable citizen, to
whom honors came unsought, and who, out of office, and not desirous of
political power, was trusted by all parties, and tempted by none. The
mere existence of such a figure, calm, simple, incorruptible, honored
wherever he was known, and known prominently throughout Europe, was a
valuable stay to the young republic in that purgatorial first half of
the nineteenth century.

One fact about him will perhaps bear emphasis; that with all his
gentlenesses he was strong and firm and full of spirit. He was
susceptible to advice, yet nobody ever forced him to do a thing that
was against his mind or conscience. That he was amiable, congenial,
companionable--we do not for