his roof, in Baltimore, or at Ellicott's Mills, was to be in a constant state of quiet enjoyment to me. Every thing that I saw in him, and in those about him; in his tastes, habits, mode of life; in his domestic relations and chosen intimacies, -continually struck upon some happy chord in my own bosom, and put me in tune with the world and with human nature."

Mr. Kennedy received the Honorary Degree of Doctor of Laws from Harvard University in 1863; and has been, for some years, an Associate Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.

Professor JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL then said:

Mr. PRESIDENT,-In the few words I shall say of Mr. Kennedy, I shall speak of him as it is fitting to speak of a man who made affection easy, and whom a short acquaintance had invested with something of the tender privilege of long friendship. Death should give a shelter from vague eulogy no less than from impertinent criticism. Here is no place for those invidiosi veri, on which, one is sometimes tempted to think, the Anglo-Saxon conscience is apt to lay an undue emphasis.

It is very likely that Mr. Kennedy could not be called a man of genius in the creative sense of that somewhat elastic word; but it is surely something to his honor, that, amid the manifold distractions of a busy and public life, he should have cherished the sweet and pure ambition of letters, of a higher and more durable success than politics and popularity can offer. In a society so prosperously active as ours, it is of good example to have had an intellectual ideal, and perhaps it is fairer here than elsewhere to measure a man rather by his aims than by his performance. After all, unless we adopt the plan of Pepys, and allow shelf-room only to books of blue blood, we must be willing to find a place for many volumes that could not make their claims valid with the heralds of literature. An exclusive commerce with the great may make us unduly

fastidious, and it is wholesome to unbend our faculties now and then from the strain of that Alpine society in the company of authors who simply know how to be agreeable. I think Mr. Kennedy's books have this pleasant quality,— a secret not seldom missed by writers more pretentious and of greater power. They are refined, manly, considerate of our grosser apprehensions; they attempt no solution of the problem of the Infinite (as it is called); they abound in cheerful pictures of natural scenery; and they will have a real value for the historian, from their lively notices of manners already remote. Perhaps the strongest impression they leave upon the mind is that they were written by a gentleman, a profession of greater consequence than is generally conceived.

Perhaps we overestimate the worth of mere literary ability. The lion has been the painter this time, and authors have not been slack in impressing on mankind the supreme importance of their function. Nevertheless it may well be suspected that the power of expressing fine sentiments is of a lower quality than the less obtrusive skill of realizing them in the life and character. This talent Mr. Kennedy possessed beyond most men. One could not be in his company for never so short a time, without being touched by that gentle consideration for others which is the root of all good breeding. His courtesy was not the formal discipline of elegant manners. There was

a sense of benefaction in it. Whoever came near him felt the friendly charm which his nature radiated, so that his very house seemed steeped in it and welcomed you no less heartily than he. He was in the highest sense a genial man. He had a singular gift for companionship, for being something better than his books, and his finer qualities were lured out by the sympathy of the fireside. He was excellent in anecdote and reminiscence. His talk had just that pleasant suspicion of scholarship in it that befits the drawing-room, and never degenerated to the coarser flavor of pedantry. He could quote his bit of Horace or Virgil on occasion, which used to

be the neck-verse of cultivated men. He had the somewhat rare excellence of being playfully earnest; and, though he had strong convictions, never made them the scourge of other

men.

But though gentleness was a prime quality in this gracious temperament, he could, when the times demanded, show qualities of stouter fibre. During the war of the Rebellion he stood firmly by the Nation, though it cost him a social position, which, to a man of his affectionate nature and social instincts, was dearer than any thing but duty. In the North it was easy to be loyal,—it was sometimes even profitable; but in Maryland loyalty meant ostracism, and might mean something worse. For Mr. Kennedy it sundered lifelong ties of friendship, and habitudes of society scarce less painful in the breaking. He might have escaped it all by a judicious impartiality between right and wrong; nay, even by a little of that caution which we call meanness if it fail, and prudence if it prosper. But he was a brave man, and chose the nobler privilege of danger.

How much fame may fall to his share, it would be out of place to compute too closely. Suffice it that he at least escaped its vulgar make weight, notoriety. Surely he has something better, as it is sweeter, in gentle memories that will perish only with the last of those who knew him.

The Hon. GEORGE S. HILLARD next addressed the meeting:

I should not have added any thing to what has been said in honor of Mr. Kennedy, were it not that I am one of the few now present that were personally acquainted with him. This acquaintance was not of long duration, nor was it intimate; indeed, my personal knowledge of him hardly began before he was sixty; but I knew him well enough to feel able to give my emphatic assent to all that has been said in commendation of him by Professor Lowell and yourself.

No one could see and know Mr. Kennedy without feeling

that he himself was more and better than his writings, excellent and estimable as these are. He was a man whose elements of growth were self-derived. He was born in a Southern state, and had the best training which that portion of the country could furnish at the time of his youth. The natural drift of men so born and taught was to politics; but he resisted this general proclivity. He gave himself to literature and law, and slid into politics incidentally and accidentally; and as literature was his first, it remained to the last his strongest love.

His

Mr. Kennedy was delightful in all the social relations. He was given to hospitality, and no man appeared to more advantage when dispensing the gifts of hospitality. conversation was frank, easy, and hearty. Men in our country, who have been much in public life, are apt to fall into a cautious and non-committal style of discourse. They are prone to talk with a vigilant self-observation, as if they feared that their words might be reported to their disadvantage by some unfriendly hearer. But he had none of this cold. and timid prudence. He spoke out that which was in him, not fearing sometimes to utter what an ever cautious temper would have left unspoken. His conversation had the freshness, the freedom, the courage of youth. His mind, his heart, never grew old.

Of his works of fiction my recollection is but indistinct; but I freshly remember his "Life of Wirt," and I think it one of the most graceful, genial, and delightful pieces of biography that the literature of our country has to show. And let me here express the hope that some competent hand will do for him what he did so well for his friend; and the corre spondence and unpublished manuscripts of Kennedy will surely afford to the biographer a theme not less full and fruitful than that furnished by the life and labors of the eminent lawyer, and more than respectable man of letters, whom he so well commemorated.

The President then read the following letter from Professor OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES:

MY DEAR MR. WINTHROP :

164 CHARLES STREET, Sept. 8th, 11 A.M.

I am much disappointed in finding myself still so far indisposed that I do not feel like going to the meeting to-day.

The circumstance that I was probably the last member of our Society who met Mr. Kennedy made me anxious to have an opportunity to add a few words to the tribute you will pay to his memory, which I feel sure will be all that affectionate esteem and the knowledge of a life-time can render it. I could really have contributed nothing, except the memory of my few interviews, the two last of which, within less than a week of Mr. Kennedy's death, were singularly delightful. He was full of talk, so cheerful, so genial, so varied, sometimes on political and historical matters with which he was familiar, sometimes relating personal experiences of which he had such a fund in his memory, always lively, entertaining, graceful in his discourse, that I have rarely sat in a company when one man did more to keep all the rest happy in listening to him. There was no look of warning, no tone that could suggest a melancholy foreboding; but, bright and brave in the face of fast gaining infirmity which he would not betray to sadden others, he shed sunshine about him to the last.

It is singular that, having met him so few times, I should feel as if I knew him so well, and regret his loss so deeply. It was not merely because he was of a true and generous nature, and of a fine intelligence and culture, but because he was so frank and hearty with those whom he honored with his friendship, that a week with him was like a year with a man of a narrower mould and colder feelings.

I have written at a moment's notice, as I did hope to be with you; but if you can make any use of my note, pray do so.

Believe me, dear Mr. Winthrop,

Yours faithfully,

O. W. HOLMES.

The President laid upon the table some sheets of the public Acts of Connecticut, now in course of publication, sent to him by Mr. Hoadly, who called special attention to "An Act "