Robert Bridges

“If you wish the pick of men and women,” says Stevenson, “take a good bachelor and a good wife.” It is not for nothing that Robert Bridges was a bachelor; and though this estate is one which would probably give most of us pause, nevertheless, as he lived it, it seemed a magic status replete with opportunities and privileges denied to ordinary men. He had plenty of time: he went to first nights at the theatre, and to prize fights; he wore a long goatee and a bat-wing collar; he wrote poetry—some pretty good poetry; he read Shakespeare; and he knew everybody, from the literary giants of old time to the youngest reporter of the day.

Everybody knew him, too, found him understanding, witty and wise. For sixteen years he was editor of Scribner’s Magazine; and the great and the small beat a path to his door. He read their manuscripts and published them, gave friendly advice, and never seemed too busy to see and talk with even the obviously undeserving.

The span of his life was eighty-three years; and in that long time he saw the world of William Cullen Bryant and Charles A. Dana evolve through Meredith and Stevenson, on through the gay nineties to the twentieth century and this restless insecurity where one hears from far ancestral voices prophesying war. But he took all this in his stride, and accepted the universe, and continued unperturbed in the presence of new ideas, and encouraged others to do likewise. In literary New York he was a constant inspiration, stimulating good writers to write better, and contributing by his keen wit and broad interests to keep alive the tradition of good conversation.

Geoffrey Parsons
1941 Century Memorials