irst order.

Sidgwick did not write swiftly or easily, because he weighed carefully
everything he wrote. But his mind was alert and nimble in the highest
degree. Thus he was an admirable talker, seeing in a moment the point
of an argument, seizing on distinctions which others had failed to
perceive, suggesting new aspects from which a question might be
regarded, and enlivening every topic by a keen yet sweet and kindly
wit. Wit, seldom allowed to have play in his books, was one of the
characteristics which made his company charming. Its effect was
heightened by a hesitation in his speech which often forced him to
pause before the critical word or phrase of the sentence had been
reached. When that word or phrase came, it was sure to be the right
one. Though fond of arguing, he was so candid and fair, admitting all
that there was in his opponent's case, and obviously trying to see the
point from his opponent's side, that nobody felt annoyed at having
come off second best, while everybody who cared for good talk went
away feeling not only that he knew more about the matter than he did
before, but that he had enjoyed an intellectual pleasure of a rare and
high kind. The keenness of his penetration was not formidable, because
it was joined to an indulgent judgment: the ceaseless activity of his
intellect was softened rather than reduced by the gaiety of his
manner. His talk was conversation, not discourse, for though he
naturally became the centre of nearly every company in which he found
himself, he took no more than his share. It was like the sparkling of
a brook whose ripples seem to give out sunshine.

Though Sidgwick's writings are a mine of careful and suggestive
thinking, he was even more remarkable than his books. Though his
conversation was delightful, the impression of its fertility and its
wit was the least part of the impression which his personality
produced. An eminent man is known to the world at large by what he
gives them in the way of instruction or of pleasure. A man is prized
and remembered by his friends for what he was in the intercourse of
life. Few men of our time have influenced so wide or so devoted a
circle of friends as did Henry Sidgwick; few could respond to the
calls of friendship with a like sympathy or wisdom. His advice was
frequently asked in delicate questions of conduct, and he was
humorously reminded that, by his own capacity as well as by the title
of his chair, he was a professor of