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Updated: May 31, 2025
Choate's mind was so complex, peculiar, and original, so foreign in temperament and spirit to the more representative traits of New England character, so large, philosophic, and sagacious in vision and survey of great questions, and so dramatic and vehement in their exposition and enforcement, so judicial and conservative in always maintaining in his arguments the balance and relation of interdependent principles, and so often in details marring the most exquisite poetry with the wildest extravagancies of style, so free from mere vulgar tricks of effect, and so full of imaginative tricksiness and surprises, so mischievous, subtle, mysterious, elusive, Protean, that it is no wonder he has been more admired and more misunderstood than any eminent American of his time.
Choate is nothing, if not illogical: recognizing the manifest hand of God in the affairs of the world, he would leave the question of Slavery with Him. Now we offer Mr. Choate a dilemma: either God always interferes, or sometimes: if always, why need Mr. Each man for himself, or Mr. Choate for all? Let us try Mr. Choate's style of reasoning against himself.
Choate's reputation in these particulars be surrendered, for which we are not quite prepared, it must be upon the ground that his biographer has failed entirely to appreciate him. That Mr. Choate was, for instance, a man of singularly keen and delicate wit, everybody knows.
Jeff was telling him that he mustn't love Esther, and virtually also that this was because Esther was not worthy to be loved. But if Choate's only armor was silence, Esther had gathered herself to snatch at something more effectual. "You say we're all prisoners to something," she said to Jeffrey. Her face was livid now with anger and her eyes glowed upon him. "How about you?
We used the word indictments with design, both as appropriate to Mr. Choate's profession and exactly descriptive of the thing itself.
They led him down the street and up the stairs into Alston Choate's office, and there, hugging his pineapple, he entered, and found Alston sitting by the window in the afternoon light, his feet on a chair and a novel in his hand.
We must confess, that we do not see why on earth he should. But let us apply Mr. Choate's syllogistic process to the list of this extraordinary nameless person's acquirements. The only weak point in our case is, that Mr.
Choate's manuscript plans for daily study, in these words, "faciundo ad munus nuper impositum." Now it must really in justice be said that to write a biography of Mr. Choate in such a lingo as this is an insult to the subject. We believe we are fair with Mr. Parker's style.
Choate's peculiar handwriting was as well known to his townsmen and neighbors, was as frequent a topic of observation and comment, as any of the traits of his mind and character. We need hardly add that this popular image which was called Mr. Choate resembled the real man about as much as a sign-post daub of General Washington resembles the head by Stuart.
Choate at the other end of the table, who was watching him with great interest in her face, and suddenly replied, "If I could not be myself, I should like to be Mrs. Choate's second husband." "Pleasant words are as a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and health to the bones."
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