books. However, when he finally made up his mind to take my name 

 out of those books, he did so without reserve. 



At one of the library meetings, the Doctor gave us a chance to "guy" 

 him respectfully, such a chance as we never failed to grasp. He was 

 talking of Burns and said: "I've oft drunk whiskey wi' men who've 

 drunk whiskey wi' Bur-r-r-rns." As he was an ardent temperance advo- 

 cate, we pretended to be much shocked and exclaimed in chorus: "Oh! 

 Doctor!" We never fazed the old man, who replied: "Oh! it was merely 

 'kissing the cup to pass it by'; just 'here's to you' and 'here's to you'." 



When I returned from my first Western trip, I found that my 

 Mother's oldest brother, "Uncle Arch" (the Rev. Archibald Alexander 

 Hodge, D.D., LL.D.), had moved to Princeton and thus, for a year, 

 my Grandfather and two of his sons were members of the same faculty. 

 Uncle Arch was a remarkable man, brilliant as a writer, lecturer and 

 preacher, he shone especially as a talker. His conversation was a 

 sparkling stream of wit and amusing nonsense and he so revelled in 

 nonsense, that it was often hard to induce him to talk seriously, but 

 when he did so talk, he was a fountain of wisdom. Three of my uncles, 

 Archibald, Wistar, and Francis, were profound influences upon my 

 hfe and career. All of them were scholarly, intellectual men, deUghtful 

 talkers, of the noblest character, they were admired and loved, wherever 

 they were known. That I should have had three such loving friends 

 and wise counsellors, was a wonderful piece of good fortune, which, 

 however, I did not fully appreciate, until I had lost it. 



In the spring of 1878, my Grandfather's health began to fail, but did 

 so very gradually. One day he said to me: "I wish you would get me 

 Darwin's Voyage of a Naturalist from the library." I brought it to him 

 and he read it with the keenest interest. When he handed the book to 

 me to return it, he said: "That is a very remarkable and delightful 

 book; now get me Wallace's Malay Archipelago." When he had read 

 that, he said: "That's an excellent book, but not to be compared with 

 Darwin's. Now I should Hke to have Fielding's Tom Jones" This he 

 read also, but I don't recall his comment on it; I do remember, however, 

 my surprise over his taking no offence at Fielding's plain speaking. 



According to the custom of years, he and my Grandmother had spent 

 the month of May in Washington and, while there, had attended the 

 funeral of his old friend. Professor Joseph Henry, the eminent physicist, 

 getting chilled from the exposure. After his return home, it soon became 

 evident that his condition was serious, though not yet alarming. When 

 he was very weak, I brought him the dummy made of the page proofs 



1:75] 



