John Harrison Wilson, The life of Charles Henry Dana

From the foregoing it may be fairly inferred that the outside public knew but little of Dana's inner life. He rarely ever showed himself in public, except at the theatre or the circus, in both of which he took a lively and appreciative interest. In the earlier days of the bicycle he became an expert rider, and for several years got a great part of his exercise from its use. He spent by far the greater number of his evenings at home. With a strong, vigorous constitution, and an excellent digestion, he early became a gastronome and gourmet of excellent taste, and one of his chief delights was to gather his friends about his dinner-table, where he entertained them with dishes and wines which were famous for their rarity and excellence. Upon such occasions his wit was genial and kindly, as well as free from connection with current controversies, and never failed to stimulate that of his guests.

In view of the aggressive and uncompromising tone of the Sun in the discussion of public men and public questions, it was widely believed that Dana was a man of violent temper and of harsh and abusive language, but nothing could be further from the truth. No man of his time had a more even temper or one under better control. He was not only calm and deliberate in all his actions, but clean, modest, and temperate in speech, as well as behavior. Widely as he differed in his views and convictions from many of the public men of the day, he always spoke of them personally, if he spoke of them at all, in terms of moderation and charity, if not of respect. So far as his closest friends knew, he never mentioned even his bitterest enemy with heat or passion, or with unqualified disapproval. If he could find an excuse for conduct he could not approve, it was sure to be a charitable one. He harbored no animosity, and always strove to separate private character and motives from official conduct, and, in condemning the latter, to reflect as little as possible on the