Page:Encyclopedia of Virginia Biography volume 4.djvu/92

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MRGINIA BIOGRAPHY

ward and visible sign of the inward refine- ment and nobility of his character), a happy knack of saying those charming "nothings," that yet count for so much, an infectious gayety of spirit, a certain boyish ingenuous- ness and eagerness at times, and with never the faintest touch of supercilious condescen- sion.

It was said of the late Lord Houghton that he never came into a room without mak- ing every man and woman in it have a kind- lier feeling for each other. That is a beau- tiful thing to be said of any one, and it was .'ibsolutely true in the case of "Joe" Bryan. He seemed to difi^use, as it were, a sort of social sunshine wherever he might be — to create an atmosphere of courtesy, refine- ment and good-will, as he went along the pleasant ways of the world. He carried the same air with him when he slipped away to enter the sombre abodes of want and misery and lightened their gloom by the radiance of his presence.

Who of us. indeed, can ever forget the compelling charm of that presence in all social intercourse — his air of distinction — the unconscious urbanity, that in some nameless way suggests aristocratic birth — his "Old World" courtesy to women — his winning smile, that could so subtly express either afifection or amusement — the kindly greeting in "the eyes whose sunshine runs before the lips" — his unafifected modesty — his lively play of mind, and those flying shafts of nimble wit that never left a sting.

But, after all, it was with three or four of his intimates grouped around his generous board that he was seen at his best as a charming host. There, under his own roof- tree, one best discerned the manifold and en- chanting graces of his private life. He pos- sessed a keen zest for everything which makes life enjoyable, and had an instinc- tive talent for elicting the best that was in his guests. He delighted in "chaff" and in that admirable "nonsense," which is the small change of thorough good-fellowship. He had a large fund of anecdote himself, and was the most sympathetic of listeners when a good story was told.

As no coarse thought ever found lodg- ment in his pure soul, so no coarse word ever passed his lips. An "improper story" — not, of course, told at his board, but else- where in the world of men — always froze him — though even then he never forgot his

innate courtesy. But there was just a hint of austerity in his manner, that caused the lively raconteur never to try the experiment again, in his presence.

His face was singularly mobile and almost instantly betrayed any strong emotion that possessed him. At times, in intimate per- sonal talk (a deux), when the generous heart and busy brain were devising some beneficence, that must prove its own reward, one might mark, for a fleeting moment, a look of exaltation, a sort of spiritual radi- ance, that made his face beautiful and noble beyond the compass of words.

In the midst of the poignant sorrow of the present, there is surely some adumbra- tion of comfort in the thought — nay, in the assured belief — that the glory of that rapt expression, that ethereal radiance, which transfigured his countenance here only at rare and intermittent moments, is no longer evanescent "in the land beyond the stars," but glows with ever steadier glow, forever and forever, in the light supernal, now that the mortal has put on immortality.

His married life was ideally full and happy, but there are matters too sacred to be more than alUided to in print, especially when one is honored with the confidence of the living. Rash, indeed, would be the hand that would seek to rend the veil from the sanctities of that beautiful home-life, which was, in truth, the very citadel of his aspir- ations and afi^ections. It may be said, how- ever, without impertinence, that, though he had reached three score years and more, he kept in absolute touch with the younger generation, and his affectionate camaraderie with his own sons and his playfulness with his grandchildren was a lovely thing to see.

Before the beauty of his Christian life, one pauses abashed, and almost fears to speak at all. The writer can only set down again the few halting lines, that he wrote, through blinding tears, the very night that this guileless spirit passed away and left us desolate. If to labor is to pray — if to visit the fatherless and the widow and bind up the broken-hearted and keep one's self un- spotted from the baseness of the world, be in truth, pure religion and undefiled — then are we sure that, when "the one clear call" came, this gentle and fearless spirit "crossed the bar" with no misgiving, but went with the glad alacrity and unquestioning faith of a little child to "meet his Pilot face to face."