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E D W A 1 1 D E V E It E T T , 



i [,XV 

CO M PILED in .1. M . BUG !'■ 1 K 

1 II I M A V <i 



This volume has been prepared, under the direction 
of a Committee of the City Council, for the purpose of 
preserving, in a permanent form, some of the numerous 
tributes of respect to the memory of Edward Everett, 
whose great accomplishments and unsurpassed eloquence 
were always devoted to the cause of good morals, to 
the elevation of the human rare, and to creating in the 
hearts of his countrymen "The Love of Liberty pro- 

l I) BY T, \« ." 

C < > .\ T I •: N r s . 


1 ! : i «il Edward E\ erett, by Rev. E. E. Hale '•' 

Order of the President of the United Stair HI 

edings in the Board of Aldermen 23 

Proceedings in the Common Council '-'- 

Mi eting in Faneuil Hall '53 

Address of Maj I I In-- 35 

Resolutions 37 

Remarks of [Ion. Charles G. Loring 10 

I; mark- of Hon. Robert C. Winthrop 45 

Remarks of Hon. Alexander II. Bullock 

( 'oiiimittcr on the Erection of a Statue 10 

Funeral 71 

Address of Rev. Rufus Ellis 7:; 

Procession 7!) 

Proceedings of the School Committee S5 

Proceedings of the Trustees of the Public Library S)l 

Proci edings of the Massachusetts Lcgi.-dature 05 

Speech of Senator Wentworth 100 

Speech of Senator Worcester 101 

Speech of Senator Chadbourne 10!) 

Speech of Mr. Wells Ill 

Si" i ch oi Mr. Scudder 113 

Proceedings ol the Board of Trad.- 117 

Remarks of E. S. Tobey, Es(j 117 

Remarks of J M. Beebe, Emj IL'1 

Remarks of R. IS. Forbes. Esq. 12.'! 

Proceedings ol tin Massachusetts llisl a] Society 1-7 

Remarks of [Ion. Robert ( '. Winthrop 127 

Remarks of [Ion. George S. Hillard 131 

Resolutions Ill' 

Ri marks of !:• v. S K. Lothrop H I>. 1 13 


Remarks of Hon. John C. Gra\ 

Remarks of t leorge Ticknor, Esq 

Remarks oi [Ion. Jolin II- i 'liffi.rd 

Remarks of Rev. James Walker. D. D 

Poem of Dr. 0. W. Holme 

Remarks of Hon. Riciianl II. Dana Ji 

Remarks of Hon. B. F. Thomas 

Remarks of Hon. James Savage 

Remarks of Hon. Emory Washhurn 

Letter of John G. Whittier 

Proceedings of the Thursday-Evening Clul 

Remarks of Dr. .1. Mason Warren 

Remarks of Mr. E. P. Whipple 

Remarks of Bishop Easthurn 

Remarks of Dr. A. A. Gould 

Proceedings of the New England Historic-Gencalogieal Societj 

Ri marks of Mr. John II. Sheppard 


P filings of the American Antiquarian Soeieh 

Remarks of Hon. Stephen Salisbury 


Remarks of Rev. Dr. Sweetser 

Remarks of Rev. Dr. Hill 

Remarks of lion. Isaac Davis 

Remarks of .Indue Barton 

Remarks of linn. Levi Lincoln 

Remarks of Hon. Henry Chapin 

Memorial Sen ices at the Everett School 

Remai ks of Frederic F. Thayer, Esij 

Remarks of Re\ . R. C. Waterston 

Remarks ol Charles W. Slack. Esq 

'roceedings of the Overseers ol Harvard University 

'roceedings of the Faculty of Harvard College 

'roeeedings ol the Standing Committee of the First Church 

'roceedings of the Franklin Medal Association 

'roeeedings of the Mercantile Library Association 

'roceedings o1 the l-'i anklin T\ pographieal Socich 

'roeeedings of the Massachusetts Charitable Mechanics' Association. 

'roceedings of the Bunker 1 1 ill Monument Association 

'roceedings of the Lincoln Guard 

'hronotogical Table 





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21 1(] 


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L'I 7 





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Edward Everett whs born in Dorchester, Norfolk 
County, near Boston, on the I lth of April. 1791.* His 
father. Rev. Oliver Everett, had resigned the ministry 
of the New South Church, in Boston, in 1792, and re- 
moved to Dorchester, where he spent the remainder of 
his life. On his father's side Mr. Everett was descended 
from Richard Everett, or Everard, of Dedham, one of 
the early settlors in Xew-England, who is said by tra- 
dition to have horn a soldier in the Low Countries. 
His mother was Lucy Hill, daughter of Alexander Sears 
Hill of Boston, and Mary Richey, and granddaughter 
of Alexander Mill, a merchant of Boston through the 
greater part of a long life. On both sides Air. Everett 
was descended from ancestors almost all of whom were 
of the firs! Puritan emigration. His maternal grand- 
mother. Mary Richey, was born in Philadelphia.. His 
grandfather, Alexander Sears Hill, graduated at Har- 
vard College in 1764, and died in 1771. 

* In tin-' preparation of this sketch, we have in some passages availed ourselves 
ofacareful article published in the Boston Daily Advertise! tin daj after Mr. 
Everett's death. 


Rev. Oliver Everett, the father of Edward Everett, 
was the minister of the New South Church, in Boston, 
from 1782 to 1792, when, with failing health, he re- 
tired from the ministry, lie was appointed .Indue of 
the Circuit Court in ITS)!), and is sometimes spoken of 
as Judge Everett in the contemporary journals. He 
died on the li'tli of November, 1802, and. in the 
spring of 1803, his widow, with her large young family 
removed to Bosron. Edwaid Everett was then a boy of 
nine years of age, and since that time to his death he 
has been nearly connected, by residence or by official 
duty, with this town. His mother's residence at that 
time was in the street then known as Proctor's Lane. 
now the eastern part of Richmond Street. He was 
placed at school at the reading and writing schools in 
North Bennet Street, under the care of Master Ezekiel 
Little and Master John Tileston. At this " double 
school," in 1N04, he received a Franklin Medal. In that 
year his mother removed her residence to a house now 
standing in Richmond Street, and on the death of her 
grandfather, Mr. Hill, removed again to a house in the 
upper part of Newbury Street, now 'Washington Street, 
nearly opposite the head of Essex Street. About this time 
Mr. Everett's regular preparation for college was begun, 
and he was sent to a private school, kept by Mr. Ezekiel 
Webster, of New Hampshire, a gentleman, says Mr. 
Everett himself, "of eminent talent and great worth, 
well entitled to be remembered for his own sake, but 
better known as the elder brother of Mr. Daniel Web- 
ster." On one occasion, during his brother's absence, 


Mr. Daniel Webster took charge of the school for a week. 
It was thus that an acquaintance began, which afterwards 
ripened into the closest regard. Mr. Webster himself 
says ,,f it. [July 21, 1852,] : 

"We now and then see stretching across the heavens 
a clear, blue, cerulean sky. without cloud, or mist, or 
haze. And such appears to me our acquaintance, from 
tin' time when I heard you for a week recite your les- 
sons in the little schoolhouse in Short Street to the date 
hereof." — 

hew things, probably, were less in the thought of 
either, in that schoolhouse, than that the boy, as Gov- 
ernor of Massachusetts, would one day sign the commis- 
sion of his teacher as Senator of the United States, or, 
at a later day, succeed him in the State Department. 

In 1*0.3 he was sent to the Latin Grammar School, 
then temporarily under the charge of Mr. Samuel Cooper 
Thacher, who soon afterwards left it in the charge of 
Mr. William Biglow. At this school, his classmates, as 
named in its own Catalogue, were William Turell An- 
drews, Samuel Blagge, John Borland, Charles Pelham 
Curtis, Nathaniel Langdon Frothingham, Benjamin Daniel 
Greene, Alba Ilayward, George Edward Head, Harrison 
Gray Otis. William Parke. Edward Reynolds, William 
Smith. Solomon Davis Townsend, Benjamin Lincoln 
Weld, with two hoys named Simpson whose other names 
are not given. At this school, in 1806, he received 
another Franklin Medal. In the same year he was 
sent to Exeter Academy, then under the charge of Dr. 
Benjamin Abbot, with the assistance of Nathan Hale and 


Alexander H. Everett, Edward Everett's older brother. 
Here he remained till he was fitted for Harvard Col- 
lege, which he entered in the summer df l s 'i7. 

He graduated in 1811, and entered immediately on the 
study of Divinity, under the direction of President Kirk- 
land, acting, at the same time, as Latin Tutor. In 1813 
he was invited to become the minister of the Brattle 
Square Church, in Boston, and resumed his residence 
here. He was ordained on the 9th Feb.. 1814. 

In lsl") he was called by the government of Harvard 
College to the chair of the Greek Professorship, then 
recently established by Mr. Samuel Eliot. Accepting 
their invitation, he made his first visit to Europe to pre- 
pare for his new duties, and. in company with Mr. George 
Ticknor, went at once to Gdttingen, they being among 
the first Americans to resort to a German university. 
Returning to America in 1819, after a long course of 
study and travel, he entered upon his professorship, 
where he gave, in the next four years, an impulse to the 
study of Greek literature in America which is not yet lost. 

In 1822, while a professor at Cambridge, he married 
Charlotte Gray, daughter of the late Hon. Peter Chardon 
Brooks. By this marriage he had three sons and four 
daughters. Four of these children are not now living. 
One of the daughters died soon after her birth. Grace 
Webster Everett, named for the wife of Hon. Daniel 
Webster, died in her ninth year. Anne Gorham Everett, 
who grew to womanhood, and shewed at an early age 
many of the traits of character and genius which distin- 
guished her father, died in London. Oct. 18. 185-1. Dr. 


Edward Brooks Everett, who graduated at Cambridge in 
1850, died November 5, 1861, leaving two children, 
Edward and Louisa Adams, by his wife, Helen Cordis, 
daughter of Benjamin Adams. Esq. of this city. 

The children who survive Mr. Everett are Charlotte 
Brooks Wise, wife of Captain Henry Augustus Wise, 
of the United States Navy; Henry Sidney Everett, who 
graduated at Harvard College in IS55, now Major in the 
Volunteer Army of the United States. — and William 
Everett, who graduated at Harvard College in 1859, and 
took the degree of 1!. A. at the University of Cambridge, 
England, in 1862. 

Mr. Everett was elected to Congress, at the election in 
] s ','t. from the Middlesex district, and. leaving his aca- 
demic pursuits, entered upon a new and more public 
career as a statesman, lie took his scat in the House 
of Representatives in 1825, as a supporter of Mr. Adams. 
and served there for ten years. He was at once ap- 
pointed to the Committee on Foreign Affairs. To the 
foreign relations of the country, therefore, he gave espi - 
cial attention. — but his interest was not limited to them. 
These years were marked by discussions on the most 
important interests in our legislation, and in many of 
these discussions he took a leading place. He served 
in Congress through Mr. Adams's administration, and 
part of that of General Jackson's. 

In 1835 Mr. Everett was elected Governor of Massa- 
chusetts, and held that office for the four years follow- 
ing. His official term was a period of unusual interest 
in the historv of the State. The Board of Education 


was then organized, the Normal Schools founded, the 
State subscription to the stock of the Western Railroad 
was made; and the division of the surplus revenue of the 
United States presented a unique question of State policy. 
Losing his reelection by a single vote in 1839, Mr. 
Everett, thus released from public duty, sailed for Eu- 
rope the second time, in June 1*40, with his family, and 
passed a winter in Italy. General Harrison's election, 
however, brought his political friends into favor, and Mr. 
Everett was appointed Minister at the Court of St. James. 
The questions relating to the Northeastern Boundary, the 
fisheries, the Caroline, the Creole, the case of McLeod, 
and other matters of dispute, were then at their most 
critical stage. Mr. Webster's intimate knowledge of the 
powers and qualifications of his friend gave the latter 
full scope for unfettered action ; and never, it is sate to 
say, was a difficult diplomatic duty discharged with more 
judgment, delicacy, and grace. Multiplied marks of re- 
spect, — among which we may name only the honorary 
degrees conferred upon him by the Universities of Ox- 
ford. Cambridge, and Dublin, — testified the apprecia- 
tion of the cultivated public opinion of England; and 
many personal friendships, with men of the highest po- 
sition in society or in letters, remained until his last mo- 
ment as the memorials of this period of his life. A\ e 
may add that, more than once during the present war, 
proposals to accept diplomatic responsibilities of a con- 
fidential nature have marked the recollection of his tri- 
umphs in this part of his career, by members of the 
present administration. 


Returning home in 1846, Mr. Everett was recalled to 
academic life, by his Alma Mater, which in that year 
elected him President, to succeed the venerable Josiah 
Quincy. Holding this position for three years, Mr. 
Everett resigned it in 1849, and for some years re- 
mained in comparative retirement. 

While still at Cambridge, he had given an impulse 
to a movement for a Public Library in Boston, and he 
no sooner left the presidency of the College than he 
addressed himself to its establishment on a generous 
scale. In a letter to the Mayor of the City of Boston, 
Hon. John P. Bigelow, he suggested the plan which 
has boon steadily carried forward from that moment, 
and now exhibits a result of the greatest interest and 
value. Different suggestions had been ottered with re- 
gard to such a library, but they had slept without action, 
until Mr. Everett proposed the scheme to the Mayor. 
Mr. Bigelow immediately made the first contribution in 
money towards this purpose, and Mr. Everett sketched 
out a plan for the conduct of the institution. He had, 
while in Cambridge, made a large gift of bonks to the 
city, as a part of the nucleus of such an institution. 
A Board of Trustees was appointed, of which he was 
the chairman, a position which he held until his death. 
This Board, in conjunction with the appropriate com- 
mittees of the City Government, opened a library, tem- 
porarily, in 1852. Mr. Joshua Bates, the intimate and 
confidential friend of Mr. Everett, in the autumn of 
the same year, made the first of a series of magnificent 
pecuniary gifts to it. This institution differs from every 


other large library in the country, in being a circu- 
lating library, from which ever} person resident in the 
town may fake books, without charge, so long as he 
observes the regulations. Mr. Everett lived long enough 
to witness the complete success of his plans and an- 
swer to his wishes in its operations. He justly con- 
sidered it as essential in a system which amis at 
universal educati 

At the death of Mr. Webster, in October, 1852, 
Mr. Everett was called by President Fillmore to the 
Department <>f State. 

During the few months that lie was Secretarv of 
State, he had occasion, in the matter of the proposed 
tripartite convention respecting Cuba, to leave upon 
record a memorable token of the reach and vigor of 
his policy in foreign affairs. The change of administra- 
tion, however, withdrew him from office, and in 1853 he 
took his seat in the United States Senate, as successor 
of lion. John Davis. His health, however, which had 
for some years been impaired, had now almost given 
way. under the pressure of his labors in the Cabinet. 
His sufferings during that winter were intense, lie 
spoke against the repeal of the Missouri Compro- 
mise, — a measure which he has termed the Pandora's 
box from which our ills have flowed, — but was com- 
pelled in May. 185-1, to resign his seat; and this event 
terminated his career in public office in the service of 
the Nation, with a single memorable exception. 

The great wank which he performed in the next 
four years, when, with infirm bodilv powers, he labored 

MEM01H OF EI)W VRI) I \ l,l;l I l | ) 

incessantlj for the Mount Vernon Fund, is fresh in the 
minds of all. The sum collected by his efforts for this 
noble object was little less than one hundred thousand 
dollars, and his motives for undertaking such a task. 
recently alluded to in one of his own public speeches, 
will command admiration as long as his name shall be 
remembered : — 

•• After the sectional warfare of opinion and feeling 
reai lied a dangerous height, anxious if possible to briii" 
a counteractive and conciliating influence into play; feel- 
ing that there was yet one golden chord of sympathy 
which ran throughout the land; in the hope of con- 
tributing something, however small, to preserve what 
remained, and restore what was lost of kind feeling 
between the two sections of the country. — 1 devoted the 
greater part of m\ time for three years to the attempt 
to give new strength in the hearts of mj countrymen 
to the last patriotic feeling in which they seemed to 
beat in entire unison, — veneration and love for the 
name of Washington, and reverence for the place of 
his rest. With this object in view, I travelled thousands 
of miles, by night and by day, in midwinter and mid- 
summer, speaking three, four, and five times a week, in 
feeble health, and under a heavy burden of domestic 
care and sorrow, and inculcating the priceless value of 
the Union in precisely the same terms from Maine to 
Georgia and from New York to St. Louis." 

The single exception alluded to, in which Mr. Everett 
once more discharged a high public function in the 
National service, was bis fulfilment of the imposing 


charge given him by the people oi Massachusetts, when 
they chose him their first Presidential Elector, in No- 
vember, l s ii4. With this exception, his constant service 
as a Trustee of the Public Libran of the city has been 
his only official duty. But in every walk of life he 
used his closing years in the service of his fellow-men. 
lie had recently promised to deliver before the Dane Law 
School a course of lectures on International Law. and 
he was engaged in the preparation of these when he 

The last occasion on which his voice was heard by 
his fellow-citizens in public, was at the meeting in 
Faneuil Hall on Monday, January 12, for the relief of 
the people of Savannah. To those who heard him on 
that occasion he seem- ■ xhibit more than his usual 

animation, and his face was free from the expression 
of subdued suffering which has too often marked it. 
Upon Ins return home, however, after a day of fatiguing 
engagements, he was obliged to summon his physician, 
and did not again leave his house. — suffering from a 
serious oppression of the lungs, lie slept well through 
Saturday night, until shortly after four, when a sudden 
attack of an apoplectic nature ensued, which, in a few 
minutes, proved fatal. He died on the loth of January, 
1865, in the seventv-tirst year of his age 

o It D E R 


Department - e, Washington, January 15, 1S65. 
The President directs the undersigned to perform the 
painful duty of announcing to the people of the United 
States that Edward Everett, distinguished not more by 
learning and eloquence than by unsurpassed and disinter- 
ested labors of patriotism at a period of political disorder, 
departed this life at four o'clock this morning. The sev- 
eral Executive departments of the Government will c 
appropriate honors to be rendered to the memory of the 
deceased, at home and abroad, wherever the national 
name and authority arc acknowledged. 




A special meeting of the Board of Aldermen was held on 
Monday, January Hi, in response to a call by his Honor the 
Mayor, for the purpose of taking appropriate notice "I* the 
death of Mr. Everett. 

The Mayor, on taking the chair, submitted the following 
communication : — 

To mi; Honorable the City Council: — 

Gentlemen: Yesterday, Sabbath morning, January 15, 
the Honorable Edward Everett was suddenly summoned 
bv the Great Disposer of Events to finish his course 
on earth, and to enter upon the happiness of an im- 
mortal existence. The sober cares of God's holy day 
were sanctified by the hallowing influence of this sad 
event, and our community, which had been so long 
blessed by his presence, felt that they had sustained 
a lo-s which never can be filled by this generation. 

I have deemed it my duty to order the bells of 
the city churches to be tolled, to announce to our 
inhabitants the death of their most distinguished cit- 
izen, and 1 have called you together at this unusual 
hour that vou ma\ take such measures as your own 


hearts and the proprieties of this solemn occasion may 

Mr. Everett, through his long and honorable career, 
has been strongly identified with the reputation of 
Huston ; and although his great talents and splendid 
accomplishments have often been at the service of the 
nation and the commonwealth, yet his dearest interests 
have been concentrated upon the community in which 
his homo was chosen, and which depended upon him 
for advice and assistance in over}" great emergency and 
in all good works. 

Boston never had a citizen who responded with more 
alacrity to her demands, lie was ever ready to serve 
her in official relations, or on those more informal 
occasions, which More graced by his eloquence and 
power. llis pen and tongue, whenever wanted, were 
devoted to her service and honor, and his highest 
happiness, I believe, was in ministering to the welfare 
of her poo] ile. 

Commencing his public education in Boston, when 
nine vears of age, as a pupil in the Eliot School, at 
the Xorth End, whore, in 1804, he received his first 
Franklin modal, he devoted a portion of the latter 
vears of his great life to the care of the Public Li- 
brary, acting, from its organization until his death, as 
i in President of the Board of Trustees. 

Faneuil Hall, so often the seem where the inspi- 
ration of his powerful and impassioned eloquence stirred 
the hearts of our people, witnessed his last intellect- 
ual effort : and lii^ closing speech, before a popular 


assembly, was, by a wise Providence, ordained I 
pathetic and patriotic appeal in behalf of the suffering 
inhabitants of I Savannah. It was a grand 

and iriate termination to a life of unselfish patri- 

otism and distinguished public service. 

His merits as a statesman, a scholar, and a philanthro- 
pist were acknowledged throughout the civilized world. 
We, who were drawn nearer to him in local matters, 
knew how to appreciate him as a citizen, as a man true 
in all the relations of social and domestic life, and one 
whose commanding influence was always brought to 
bear on the side of religion and morals, who was an 
example to youth, and a prompter of noble deeds to 
those in riper years. 

Mr. Everett's memory will ever be cherished with 
pride by Bostonians, as one who has added to the 
fame of the city which he loved; and I have no doubt 
you will agree with me that, as he shared to so large 
an extent our admiration and respect while living, so 
he should be suitably remembered by the Municipal 
Government now that he is gone. 

As the representatives of the people, it is our duty 
in their behalf to testify in some form our sense of 
the bereavement we have sustained by his death ; and 
your action is respectfully invoked for such measures 
as may be proper, and which will comport with the 
dignity and character of the occasion. He lias loft no 
contemporary as his equal, and his name will be hon- 
ored through many generations as a good and great 

F. W. LINCOLN. Jr.. Mayor. 

•J() MEMORIAL OF EDWARD I.\ 1.1,1 1 1 

Alderman Clapp thereupon offered the following preamble 
and resolutions : — 

Whereas, in the ripeness of his years, and in the 
full possession of his ureal intellect, the Honorable 
Edward Everett has fallen by the hand of death, — 
taken from a field of usefulness boundless as his own 
love for his native country, — therefore it becomes us, 
in behalf of the City of Boston, to place on our 
records an expression of the grief which pervades all 
hearts, in a community realizing the great loss which 
the nation, the state, and the cit} sustained, when the 
immortal spirit of the statesman, patriot, and Christian 
broke from its earthly tenement for its journey through 

Resolved, That the City Council of Boston, feeling a 
deep sense of obligation to the deceased tor his invalu- 
able services to its local institutions, and recognizing 
in his public life — almost without a parallel for the 
varied positions of trust which he has held at home 
and abroad — those elements of true greatness which are 
rarely combined in one man, do most sincerely unite 
in acknowledging that in every walk of life his no- 
bility of character gave him a claim to our admiration, 
while the monuments of his literary ability and phi- 
lanthropic effort will keep his memory sacred through- 
out all time. 

Resolced, That the sympathy of the City Council be 
tendered to the bereaved family, in this the hour of 
their great affliction. There is consolation in the thought 


that it pleased God. in his goodness, to prolong the 
life of his servant, that lie might prove, in the darkest 
hour of our history, a bright Inning light. 

'ved, That His Honor the Mayor be requested to 
call a meeting of the citizens, al Faneuil Hall, on 
Wednesday, at noon, that a public expression of the 
greal loss sustained b\ this community maybe a tribute 
of respecl to the memory of the deceased. 

lived. That a joint special committee of the two 
branches of the City Council be appointed, to express 
tn the family the desire of the cih to take such part 
in the funeral ceremonies as may be appropriate. 

Resolved, That the committee be also empowered to 
make all arrangements for such other tokens of respect 
to the deceased as may be deemed due to his exalted 

Alderman Tyler spoke briefly in support of the resolutions, 
after which tin \ were unanimously adopted, the members rising 
in tln-ir places. 

Aldermen Tyler, Messinger, and Dana were appointed on the 
committee, on the part of the Board, to take charge of the 
funeral cerenv mil s. 



A special meeting of the Common Council was also held on 
Monday, at 12 o'clock, M. to take action in concurrence with 
the Board of Aldermen in relation to the death of Mr. Everett. 
Tin' President, William 13. Fowle, Jr. Esquire, occupied the 

The communication of His Honor, the Mayor, and the i- >- 
lutions of the Board, were received and read. 

The President then spoke as follows: — 

Gentlemen of the Common Council: — 

It is rarely our fortune, in deploring the loss of a 
distinguished and valued citizen, to be able- with our 
grief tn combine so many truly pleasurable emotions. 
A retrospective view of rue life of Edward Everett 
brings with it peculiar satisfaction. Endowed b\ Prov- 
idence with an intellect rarely it' ever surpassed, that 
intellect has been employed by him in single, honest 
effort for the true good of his country, and in pro- 
moting the welfare of his fellow-men. 

Especially have the citizens of Boston felt his influ- 
ence, and gloried in his intellect. To him, before all 
others, have we ever looked, in time of trouble, tor 

IN I HE < i >MM' '\ i I 'INCH. 


counsel ;md advice, and at such times he has ever 
proved a pillar of strength and wisdom. 

We mourn our loss; yet in our grief we thank a 
kind Providence that his great intellect was spared to 
the last, and that to the latest moment his usefulness 
was unimpaired. 

The resolutions passed unanimously, the members rising. 

The following members were appointed to join the com- 
mittee of the Board: Clement Willis, Granville Hears, Jonas 
Fitch, John P. Ordway, and Benjamin F. Stevens. < *n mo- 
tion, the Pn of the Council was added to this com- 

On motion of Mr. Stebbins of Ward 10, it was voted that 
the Clerk be authorized to send a copy of the resolutions 
passed, and the addresses of His Honor the Mayor and of the 
President of the Common Council, to the family of the deceased. 




Ilv invitation of Hi? Honor the Mavur, a number of the 
prominent citizens of met at the City Hall on Monday 
afternoon, January 1G, for the purpose of consulting upon 
arrangements for a meeting in Faneuil Hall. It was decided 
to hold the meeting on Wednesday, January 18, 18(35, at noon. 
The following Committees were appointed: — 

On Organization: George B. Upton, J. Huntington Wolcott, 
Edward S. Tobey, Otis Norcross, and George C. Richardson. 
On Resolutions: Samuel II. Walley, George S. Hillard, Rev. 
S. K. Lothrop, George W. Bond, and II. 1'. Kidder. 

The following notice was published in the newspapers: — 

M a'on's < >fi ice, City Hall, 

1 >i i- 1 • 'N . January lt>, 1865. 

To the Citizens of Boston: — 

In conformity with ;t resolve passed this day by the 
Cit} Council, the citizens of Boston are invited to as 
semble in Faneuil Hall, on Wednesday, January I s . at 
12 o'clock, for the purpose of taking such measures as 
may lie deemed appropriate to express their scum of 
the Loss the nation and this community have sustained 
bv the recent decease of their late eminent fellow cit- 
izen, Edward Everett. 



At the hour designated in the above notice, the citizens of 
Boston convened in Faneuil Hall, — attracted there, as their ap- 
pearance would indicate, through no idle curiosity, but through 
a desire to testifv, by their presence, to the sorrow which 
pervaded the community. The darkened hall, the symbols of 
mourning upon the walls, tin' -ail and subdued expression of 
;ln' assemblage, combined to make the scene remarkably im- 

At twelve o'clock, Mr. George B. Upton came forward upon 
the platform, ami read, as the report of the Committee on 
Organization, the following list of officers tor the meeting: — 


fits Hoxor, F. \V. LINCOLN. Jr. 


Chief Justice G. T. Bigelow, J. Thomas Stevenson, 

Charles G. Loring, Charles <■. Greene, 

George Ticknor, Rt. Rev. .1. B. Fitzpatrick, 

.John C. Grav, Thomas Aspinwall, 

Robert < '. Winthrop, Sila< Pe 

Rev. G. \V. Blagden, George W. Lyman. 

James Savage, J. /-• Goodrich, 

Stephen Fairbanks, Dr. George Hay ward, 

Rt. Rev. Manton Eastburn, Joseph T. Baile\ , 

Charles Wells, Albert Fearing, 

J. G. Palfrey, Josiah Quincy, 

David Sears, James "W. Paige, 

Dr. James Jackson, Patrick Donahoe, 

Francis C. Lowell, James Read, 
William B. Revnolds, 



William W. Greenough, Patrick T. Jackson, 

Edwin 1'. \V1 J. Tisdale Bradlee. 

Mayor Lincoln took the chair, and prayer was offered by 
Rev. S. K. Lothrop, D.D., Pastor of the Brattle Street Church. 
I'lic .Mayor then addressed the meeting as follows : — 

Fellow-Citizens : — 

The official position which it is my fortune to occupy 
brings with it. through your courtesy, the distinguished 
honor of presiding over the deliberations of this as- 

The sad event which has called us together has cast 
a shadow over all the land, but its deepest gloom is 
naturally felt in this community; and this venerable 
hall, clad in its mourning habiliments, feebly represents 
the grief which oppresses all our hearts. The opening 
dawn of the first daj of the week closed the earthly 
career of our foremost man ; and we arc assembled, be- 
fore his body has received its funeral rites, and has 
been '■'■ committed to the holy mysten of the ground,"' 
to do honor to hi-, memory, and to express om- sense 
of the bereavement we have sustained by his death. 

We have met, fellow-citizens, to dwell for a while on 
the merits of one who has so often led our thoughts 
in contemplation of the distinguished dead. It is hard 
for us to realize, especially within these walls, that 
those eloquent lips are dumb, and that he, too, i- gone, 
never more to stand on this platform, before a waiting 


multitude eager to hear those words of wisdom and 
cheer, which dropped like manna when he spoke. It 
has been mj great privilege, for a number of years 
past, to be a personal witness, on public occasions, or 
in more private ways, to Mr. Everett's zeal and devo- 
tion to the welfare of this community, and his stanch 
and unswerving loyalty to his native land. 

His presence was a benediction. The world is better 
that he has lived in it; and his memory will be one of 
those rich treasures which can never be taken away 
from his countrymen. Boston, as his home, was 
ever dear to him. He was interested in its most trivial 
concerns, while his comprehensive mind extended and 
took delight in those vast affairs which constitute our 
strength and character as a nation. 

It does not become me. in this presence, surrounded 
as I am by the talented and gifted of the community, 
to speak to you of his genius, and of the rich fruits 
of his noble career. The consummate ability which 
distinguished his public efforts, and the dignity and 
grace of his private life, will lie discoursed upon by 
those who, in fitting words, can do justice to such 
topics. My only duty is. with your indulgence, to con- 
duct in some degree the proceedings of the meeting, 
and by my official presence, in an humble way, to be 
the representative of the City of Boston on this occa- 

Hon. Samuel II. Walley was introduced, and read, without 
prefatory remark, the following series of resolutions: — 


It having pleased Almighty God, in the exercise of 
his all-wise Providence, to remove by death our fellow- 
citizen, Edwaid Everett, whose decease occurred at his 
residence in this city, on Sunday morning, January 15, 
1865, in the seventy-first year of his age; therefore, 

Resolved, That we bow with humble acquiescence to 
the will of God, knowing that the Judge of all the 
earth will do right ; that all men and all events are at 
his disposal; and that it becomes us to believe that 
be knows infinitely better than we do, or can. the 
most appropriate season for the departure of each in- 
dividual, however lowly, or however highly exalted, from 
time to eternity. 

Resolved, That we are bound by every sense of obli- 
gation of which we are capable to acknowledge with 
gratitude the goodness of God. in granting to our com- 
munity so rich a gift as we all feel was contained in 
the natural endowments, the rare opportunities, the con- 
scientious nature, the extensive influence, and the pro- 
tracted life of our departed friend. 

Resolved, That in the death of Mr. Everett, not alone 
bis family, not alone the city where he lived, the com- 
monwealth to which he belonged, the bleeding and dis- 
tracted nation of which ho was an essential part, — not 
alone all of these, hut the world of letters and i f 
learning, the world of .eloquence and refined culture, 
the world of science and of profound scholarship, the 
cause of humanity at large and of human freedom in 
particular, the cause of Christian morality and of 
bumble, unostentatious Christian life and conversation, — 


mourn the loss of a bright, inflexible, and consistent 

Resolved, Thai in tracing the varied and eventful life 
of him whose decease we this day mourn, we are 
forcibly reminded of its fitting commencement and close. 
His earliest strains of eloquence, ere he had reached 
the age of manhood, having sounded forth from the 
pulpit to crowded audiences, who hung upon his lips 
with thrilling interest; while his almost dying words 
were an eloquent plea to his fellow-citizens to give 
heed to the teachings of Holy Writ — "If thine enemy 
hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink." 

Resolved, That in reviewing the claims to our respect 
and admiration furnished by the life of our friend, 
kindly continued beyond threescore and ten, we are 
forcibly reminded of the fact that, unlike most men, 
his severest trial was to satisfy himself, as he was 
always his own great rival, — never failing to meet the 
expectations of his friends, but never satisfying his own 
demands upon himself. And with all his native mod- 
esty and diffidence, at times mistaken, by those who 
did not know the workings of his heart and his true 
nature, for coldness of manner, it was apparent to all 
careful observers that each step in his progress through 
life seemed to be onward and upward. — not always 
pleasing all men, for then he would have been of 
little worth, hut always acting from a. high sense of 
conscientious obligation to the Giver of his splendid 

Resolved. That while we are at a loss which most 

MICE I l\i. I\ I ANEUU. I1AI.I.. :\'.) 

to admire of all the rare endowments of the departed, 
his course may well be likened to the sun in the 
heavens. — rising full-orbed in a cloudless sky. shining 
brightly as it approached meridian, and continuing with 
undiminished splendor until its setting hour; when, 
still full-orbed and large, undimmed ami in unclouded 
li^ht, it quieth sank helms the horizon. Tims did he 
tif whom we speak; constantly adding to his knowledge, 
that he might instruct the more from the rich store- 
house of his cultivated mind; and went forward in 
life instructing the people in the church, in the col- 
lege, in the senate, at the foreign court, and in the 
cabinet at home, till wearied of the vexation- of politi- 
cal strife, and with impaired health he sought rest in 
retirement. But with renewed health he rose again to 
view, more bright than ever, and, with a zeal and a 
power unsurpassed, labored to save his country from 
civil war, by commending to North and South the ex- 
ample and counsels of Washington : and failing in this 
effort, — finding his Hag assailed and his country im- 
perilled. — with a magnanimity and self-forgetfulness, and 
a power of eloquence worthy of all praise and imita- 
tion, he devoted all his energies to the single work 
of saving his country, and reuniting it upon a secure 
and righteous basis, with no stripe erased, no star 
blotted from its flag, no stain upon its fair escutcheon. 
It was in this, the last epoch of his eventful life, that 
he shone out full-orbed, and secured an abiding place 
for the record of his fame on the imperishable scroll 
of a nation's platitude. 


Resolved, That a life so full of well-directed, indus- 
trious effort, coupled with powers of a high order, — 
a life marked strongly throughout, but brilliantly at its 
clove. b\ deeds of unselfish patriotism, deserves to be 
held up no less for the imitation of posterity than for 
the commendation of contemporaries ; and in order to 
associate in the minds of future beholders the linea- 
ments of his person with the history of his greatness, 
it is expedient that a statue should he erected in honor 
of Edward Everett. 

Resolved, That a committee of fifty citizens be ap- 
pointed by the Chair, in accordance with the previous 

Resolved, That while we do not presume to trespass 
on the sacred retirement of domestic grief, called 
forth by the loss of one who was so admirable in all 
the domestic relations. — we may be permitted to tender 
our heartfelt sympathy to the family of the deceased, 
in this hour of sudden and heavy sorrow ; and at the 
same time to point them to the abundant consolations 
afforded by such a close to such a life. 

Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions he for- 
warded by the officers of this meeting to the family of 
Edward Everett. 

The President then introduced lion. Charles G. Lorinjr, 
whose remarks were as follows: — ■ 

Mi;. Chairman ami Fellow-Citizexs : — 

In obedience to the request of the authorities under 
whose auspices this meeting is assembled, and the 

MEETING IN FAXEl'IL 1 1 A 1 I 1 1 

impulses of friendship and admiration for the illustrious 
man whose death it is designed to commemorate, I am 
here to speak to you of the decease of Edward Everett. 
Bui what shall I say! The theme is so full and ex- 
haustless that T know not where to begin, and if I 
could rightly begin. I should not know where to end. 
The simple announcement that Edward Everett is dead 
so tills the minds of such an audience of fellow-towns- 
men and friends with thickly crowding recollections 
and emotions, that the mere utterance of the mournful 
truth seems to be all that is needed to awaken the 
most affecting remembrances of his virtue-, and of his 
services for ourselves and our country, and to inspire 
each heart with it- own most fitting eulogium 

A few brief weeks only have pa-sol since he -'.mm] 
upon this platform to vindicate, what seemed to him 
and to most of us. the great cause of our beloved 
country. The sounds of your plaudits upon his appear- 
ance, and of your enthusiastic approbation of his ad- 
dress, seem to be still ringing in my ears, and to be 
reverberating from these wall-; a few brief days only 
have gone since he again stood here, in eloquent ami 
effective appeals to your benevolence, your magnanimity, 
and your patriotism, in behalf of the famishing poor of 
Savannah. It seems almost impossible to bring home 
to our hearts the reality that we are never again to 
listen to hi- words of counsel, to his bursts of patriotic 
enthusiasm, or his touching appeals in behalf ot down- 
trodden humanity; and that tie-, same walls are now 
so soon echoing to lamentations over his bier. 


1 pon the former of those occasions it was remarked 
that when the time should come, which if was trusted 
might be far distant, for contemplating the monument 
which his life and services would constitute in the 
history of his country, when the eve shall have lin- 
gered in admiration upon the entablatures commemora- 
tive of his character, his scholarship, his eloquence, 
and his statesmanship, it would at last rest with still 
fonder delight upon that which shall tell of his patri- 
otism, when. Samson-like, bursting the withes of old 
political associations, he threw himself, heart and hand. 
into the cause of his country, to save her. if possible, 
from the perils with which she was surrounded. How 
soon, alas! has this prophecy become history. 

Proud, as we justly may be, of his varied learning, 
his matchless oratory, his world-wide reputation as a 
scholar and a statesman; and pleasant as it mit;ht be 
to dwell upon all that he has accomplished for letters 
and art and science, and the fame of his native land ; 
how instinctively, nay, how almost exclusively, we now 
turn to contemplate his noble patriotism; the devotion 
ot his great powers and generous heart to the service 
of his country. How much dearer to us is Edward 
Everett the patriot, than he ever could have been if 
only Edward Everett the scholar, the .statesman, and the 
orator, although standing without a rival. His patriotism, 
however, though fervent, was not marred by any unjust 
disparagement of those who. seeking their country's 
welfare, differed from him in their judgment of the 
best means of securing it. While no one could ques- 


tion the sincerity and purity of his motives, he was 
wholly above any ungenerous distrust of their-. 

When the family of a great and good man stand 
around his grave, it is not the termination of his career 
of intellectual achievement, or of future opportunity for 
its triumphs, that causes the tear to drop upon the 
coffin lid. but the thought that the wise counsellor, the 
noble exemplar, the strong protector, and the loving 
friend is gone, and that the places which knew him 
shall know him no more forever. So now. fellow- 
citizens, we. — united as we feel ourselves to be in pa- 
triotic friendship, man to man. as never before, in this 
mighty struggle for national life. — gather around the 
bier of Edward Everett in sympathizing grief, that we 
can no longer be "added bv his counsels, encouraged 
bv his patriotism, and sustained by his intellectual 
strength and influence. Nor do we bend over it alone. 
The wretched sufferers in Tennessee, whom his efforts 
have so effectually aided to rescue from starvation, and 
other horrors consequent upon a fiendish persecution, — 
the destitute mingled friends and foes of Savannah, 
for whom he so earnestly and successfully pleaded here 
a few days ago, — the last effort of those eloquent lips 
now cold in death. — the exultant freedman, the cower- 
ing refugee, the noble soldiers in the hospitals. — all of 
whose causes he has upheld and promoted by his elo- 
quence and his toils, with the patriots of every name 
throughout the land, all are heartfelt mourners with us 

This is not the time or the occasion for an enumera- 


tion or an analysis of the intellectual powers and traits 
of character of our friend; otherwise it were easy and 
delightful to trace his career, for their illustration, from 
the remarkably precocious development of his literary 
powers in boyhood to their maturity in manhood and 
old age ; to follow him from the college, in which he 
was graduated with the highest honors, to the tutor's 
chair, to the pulpit, the professorship, the editorship of 
the North American Review, to the halls of Congress, in 
both branches, to the gubernatorial chair of this Com- 
monwealth, to the Cabinet as Minister of State, to the 
chief of our foreign diplomatic missions, to the Presi- 
dency of Harvard College, and other stations of duty 
and honor, in all of which he was distinguished by un- 
surpassed ability and unswerving fidelity ; to his glori- 
ous enterprise for uniting the hearts of the people 
throughout the land in the knowledge of the character 
and principles of the Father of his Country, and in 
the establishment of Mount Vernon as the monument 
of a nation's reverence and gratitude; and. finally, to 
that widely diffused and vast personal influence which 
he obtained throughout our country, and which he has 
so signally devoted to her service in this her hour of 
need. Hut we are not here to celebrate his achieve- 
ments, or glory in his fame. The time is not distant. 
we may trust, when the erection of a suitable statue to 
his memory shall give opportunity for such a record. 
A^ e are here now. in justice to ourselves, that we may 
unite in testifying to our sense of his worth, and our 
just appreciation of the loss which this community es- 


pecially, and our whole country, has sustained in his 
death. I heartily second the resolutions. 

Hon. Robert C. YVinthrop was the next speaker. He ad- 
dressed tlif meeting in the following words: — 

[ hardly know, fellow-citizens and friends, 1 hardly 
know either how to speak or how to be silent here 
to-day. I dare not trust myself to any off-hand, impul- 
sive utterance on such a theme. And yet I cannot but 
feel how poor and how inadequate to the occasion is 
the best preparation which I am capable of making. I 
am sincerely and deeply sensible how unfitted I am. 
bj emotions which I should in vain attempt to re-train, 
for meeting the expectations and the demands of such 
an hour, or for doing justice to an event which has 
hardly left a heart unmoved, or an eye unmoistened, in 
our whole community. Most gladly would I still be 
permitted to remain a listener only, and to indulge a 
silent but heartfelt sorrow for the loss of so illustrious 
a fellow-citizen and so dear a friend. 

I have so often been privileged to follow him on 
these public occasions of every sort, that I feel almost 
at a loss how to proceed without the encouragement of 
his friendly countenance and the inspiration of his 
matchless tones. 1 seem to myself to lie still waiting 
for his ever-welcome, ever brilliant lead. T rind it all 
but impossible to realize the fact, that we are assembled 
here in Faneuil Hall, at a meeting at which whatever 
is most eloquent, whatever is most impressive, whatever 
is most felicitous ami most finished, ought justly to be 


heard, and that Edward Everett is not here with us to say 
the first, the best, the all-sufficient word. I feel myself 
impelled to exclaim — and you will all unite with me in 
the exclamation — 

"Oli, for the sound of a voice that is still'd, 
And the touch of a vanished hand." 

Certainly, my friends, I can find no other words to begin 
with, than those which he himself employed, when rising 
to speak in this hall on the death of that great statesman, 
whose birthday, by a strange but touching coincidence, we 
are so sadly commemorating to-day by this public tribute 
to his life-long friend and chosen biographer: "There is 
but one voice," said Mr. Everett of Daniel Webster, and 
certainly I may repeat it of himself to-day, " There is but 
one voice that ever fell upon my ear which could do jus- 
tice to such an occasion. That voice, alas, we shall hear 
no more forever." 

\ es, fellow-citizens, as a celebrated Roman historian 
said of the consummate orator of his own land and age, 
that to praise him worthily required the eloquence of Cic- 
ero himself, so we cannot fail to feel that full justice to 
the career and character of our American Cicero could 
only be rendered by the best effort of his own unequalled 
powers. It is hardly an exaggeration to say of him. that 
he has left behind him no one sufficient to pronounce his 
eulogy as it should be pronounced ; no one. certainly, who 
can do for him all that he has done for so many others 
who have gone before him. 

But. indeed, niv friends, the event which has called us 


together has occurred too suddenly, too unexpectedly, for 
any of us to be quite prepared either for attempting or 
for hearing any formal account of our departed friend's 
career, or any cold analysis of his public or private charac- 
ter. There must be time for us to recover from the first 
shuck nf so overwhelming a loss before his eulogy can be 
fitly undertaken or calmly listened to. His honored re- 
mains are still awaiting those funeral rites in which our 
whole community will mi eagerly and mi feelingly unite 
to-morrow. The very air we are breathing at this moment 
l- ^tili vocal and vibrating with his last public appeal. It 
seems but an instant since he was with us on this platform, 
pleading the cause of humanity and Christian benevolence 
in as noble strains as ever fell from human lips. And no 
one, I think, who had the privilege of hearing that appeal, 
can fail to remember a passage, which did not find its way 
into any of the printed reports, but which made a deep 
impression on my own heart, as I stood on yonder floor a 
delighted listener to one whom I could never hear too 
often. It was the passage in which, in tonus quite 
unusual for him. and which seemed as if the shadow of 
coming events were passing over his mind, he spoke of 
himself as " an old man who had nothing but his lips left 
for contributing to the public good." Nothing but his 
lips left! Ah. my friends, what lips those were ! If ever 
since the days of the infant Plato, of whom the story is 
told, if ever since that age of cunning fable and of deep 
philosophy with which he was so familiar, the Attic bees 
have lighted upon any human lips, and left their persua- 
sive honey there without a particle of their sting, it must 


have been on those of our lamented friend What lips 
they were ! And what have the) not accomplished since 
they were first opened in mature, articulate speech ! What 
worthy topic have they not illustrated! What good and 
noble cause have they nut advocated and adorned! On 
what occasion of honor to the living or to the dead, — at 
what commemoration of the glorious past — in what exi- 
gency of the momentous present — have those lips ever 
been mute ? From what call of duty or of friendship, of 
charity or of patriotism, have they ever been withheld { 

Turn to those three noble volumes of his works, and fol- 
low him in that splendid series of Orations which thev 
contain — from the earliest at Cambridge, in which he 
pronounced that thrilling welcome to Lafayette a little 
more than forty years ago, down to that on the 4th of 
Julv, 1858, which he concluded by saying, that in the 
course of nature he should go to his grave before long, 
and he wished no other epitaph to be placed upon it than 
this : '• Through evil report and through good report he 
loved his whole country:" — follow him. 1 say. in his 
whole career as unfolded in those noble volumes — the 
besl manual of American Eloquence — and then take up 
the record of those other Orations and Addresses winch 
are ;>till to lie included in his collected works, the record 
of the last few years, as it is impressed upon the minds 
and hearts of every patriot in our land — with all its grand 
appeals for Mount Vernon and the memory of Washington, 
for the sufferers of East Tcnncsee. for the preservation of 
the Union, for the defence id' the country against rebellion 
and treason, for the support of the National Administration 


aoreeablv to his own honest convictions of dut} : Follow 
him. I sav again, along the radiant pathway of that whole 
er, illuminated as it is from his earliest manhood to 
the last \\<'i'k of his life by the sparkling productions 
of his own genius, and then tell me, you who can, 
what cause of education or literature, what cause of 
art or industry, what cause of science or history, what 
, LU se of religion or charity, what cause of philanthropy 
or patriotism, has not been a debtor — a debtor beyond 
the power of payment — and. now alas! beyond the power 
of acknowledgment, — to his voice or to his pen ! Who 
has ever more fairly won the title of " the golden- 
mouthed," since the sainted Chrysostom of old, than he 
who. by the music of his voice and the magic of his 
tono-ue, has so often coined his thoughts into eagles and 
turned his words into ingots, at one moment for the 
redemption of the consecrated home and grave of the 
Father of his Country, and at another for the relief of an 
oppressed and suffering people! 

And who. my friends, as he reviews this marvellous 
career, can fail to remember how singularly applicable 
to him. in view of his earliest as well as of his later 
callings, are those words in which the immortal drama- 
tist has described the curious felicity and facility of speech. 
and the extraordinary versatility of powers, of one of the 
great princes and sovereigns of England : — 

•• Hear him but reason in divinity, 
And, all-admiring, with an inward wish 
You would desire the king were made a prelate : 
Hear him debate of commouwealth affairs, 


You 'd say, it hath been all-in-all his stud} : 
List his discourse of war, and you shall hear 

irful battle n nden 'I you in music ; 
Turn him to any cause of policy, 
The Gordian knot of it he will unloose, 
Familiar as his garter ; that when he speaks, 
The air, a chartered libertine, is still, 
And the mute wonder lurketh in men's ears, 
To steal his sweet and honeyed sentences.' 

It is hardly too much to say of him that he established 
a new standard of American eloquence, that lie was the 
founder of a new school of occasional oratory, of which 
he was at once the acknowledged master and the best 
pupil, and in which we were all proud to sit at his feet 
as disciples. Would that we had been better scholars ! 
"Would that, now that he has been snatched so suddenly 
from our sight, and as we follow him to the skies with 
our parting acclamations of admiration and affection, we 
could feel that there were some shoulders not wholh 
unworthy to wear, not altogether incapable of sustaining, 
his falling mantle ! 

1 need not dwell foi a moment, my friends, upon the 
details of his official life. We all remember his earlier 
and his later relations to the University to which he was 
so ardently attached, and which has ever counted him 
among its proudest ornaments. We all remember how 
long and how faithfully he served the State and the Na- 
tion in their highest departments at home and abroad. 
But public office was not necessary to his fame, and he 
never held bis title to consideration at the precarious 

MEE riXG IN l-'ANLI II. HALL. .",1 

tenure of public favor or popular suffrage. Office gave 
no distinction to the man ; but the man gave a now dis- 
tinction and a new dignity to every office which he held. 
Everywhere he was the consummate scholar, the brilliant 
orator, the Christian gentleman, — greater, even, as a pri- 
vate citizen than in the highest station to which he ever 

was. or ever could have 1 n called. 

I need not dwell for a moment, either, my friends, 
upon the puritj and beauty of his daily life, upon his de- 
votion to In- family, bis fidelity to his friends, bis integ- 
rity as a man. his untiring willingness and eagerness to 
do kind and obliging things for all who, reasonably or un- 
reasonably, asked them at his hands, at any cost of time 
or trouble to himself. I can never fail, certainly, to re- 
member his countless acts of kindness to myself during a 
friendship of thirty years. 1. do not forget that at least 
once in my life I have differed from him on important 
questions, and that recent!} ; but I can honestly say that 
there was no living man from whom 1 differed with a 
deeper regret, or with a greater distrust of my own judg- 
ment. Nor can I fail to remember with inexpressible joy 
.it tins hour, that within a week, I had almost said within 
a day. after that difference was avowed and acted upon, 
be reciprocated most kindly and most cordially an assur- 
ance, that our old relations of friendship and affection 
should suffi r no estrangement or interruption, and that 
we would never distrust each other's sincerity or each 
other's mutual regard. " I am not afraid," lie wrote me. 
"that we shall give each other cause of offence; and we 
will not let others put us at variance." 


Fellow-Citizens: I knew not how to commence these 
imperfect and desultory remarks, and I know not how to 
(lose them. There is. I am sensible, much to console us 
in our bereavement, severe and sudden as it is. We may 
well rejoice and be grateful to God, that our illustrious 
and beloved friend was the subject of no lingering illness 
or infirmity, that he was permitted to die while in the full 
possession of bis powers, while at the \er\ /enith of his 
fame, and while he had a hold on the hearts of bis coun- 
trymen such as even he had never before enjoyed. We 
may well rejoice, too, that his voice was last heard in ad- 
vocating a measure of signal humanity which appealed to 
every heart throughout the land, and that he lived to see 
of the fruit of his lips and to he satisfied. I hold in my 
hand one of his last notes. — written on Thursday evening 
to our munificent and excellent fellow-citizen, .Mr. Wil- 
liam Gray, and which, in his own necessary and regretted 
absence, he has kindly permitted me to read: — 

■• Si mmee Street, \2 .Ian. 1805. 
•■Mi/ dear Mr. Cray: I am greatly obliged to you for send- 
ing me word of the success of the Savannah subscription. What 
a large-hearted, open-handed place we live in ! It is on these oc- 
casions that I break the tenth commandment, and covet the wealth 
of you millionaires. I have been in fed almost ever since Mon- 
day, having narrowly escaped an attack of pneumonia. I had 
been in the court-house all the morning, and had to return to it 
tor three hours in the afternoon to attend to a harassing arbitration 
ease, and left Faneuil Hall with my extremities iee, and my lungs 
on tire. But in such a cause one is willing to suffer. 

■• Ever sincerely yours, 

•• EDWARD E\ t:i;Lt i ." 


This little note, my friends, in his own unmistakable 
and inimitable hand, written within two days of his death, 
shews clearly what thoughts were uppermost in that 
noble heart, before it so suddenly ceased to beat. In such 
a cause he was willing to suffer. In such a cause he was 
not unwilling to die. 

But whatever consolation may be found in the circum- 
stances of his death, or in the occupation of his last 
yi ars, or months, or days, we still cannot but feel that no 
heavier public calamity could at this moment, if at any 
moment, have befallen our community. We cannot but 
feel that not Boston only, not Massachusetts only, not 
New England only, but our whole country, is called to 
deplore the los^ of its most accomplished scholar, its 
most brilliant orator, its most valuable citizen. More 
and more, as the days and the years roll on, will that 
loss he perceived and felt by all who have known, ad- 
mired, and loved him. The public proceedings of this 
dav. the sad ceremonials of to-morrow, will rind their 
place on the page of history. All the customary trib- 
utes of respect and gratitude to our lamented friend 
will at no distant day be completed. We shall hang 
his portrait on these hallowed walls in fit companion- 
ship with the patriot forms which already adorn them. 
We shall place a statue of him. in due time. I trust, 
on yonder terrace, not far from that of his illustrious 
and ever-honored friend. But neither portrait nor statue, 
nor funeral pomp, nor public eulogy, will have done 
for his memory, what he has done lor it himself. The 
name and the fame of Edward Everett will in no way more 


surely be perpetuated than by the want which will be ex- 
perienced, by tlir aching void which will be felt, mi all our 
occasions of commemoration, on all onr days of jubilee, 
on every literal - } anniversary, at every festive board, in 
every appeal for education, for charity, for country, in 
:v hour of peril, in every hour of triumph, from the 
loss of that ever-ready, ever- welcome voice, which has so 
long been accustomed to say the best, the most appropri- 
ate, the most effective wand, in the best, the most appropri- 
ate, the most effective manner. For nearly half a century 
no public occasion has ever seemed complete without 
his presence. By a thousand conspicuous acts of pub- 
lic service, by a thousand nameless labors of love, for 
young and old, for rich and poor, for friends and for stran- 
gers, he has rendered himself necessan — so far as any 
one human being ever can be necessary — to the wel- 
fare and the honor of the community in which he 
lived. I can find no words for the oppression I feel, 
in common, I am sure, with all who hear me. at the 
idea that we shall see his face and hear his voice no 
more. As 1 looked on his lifeless form a few hours 
only aftei his spirit had returned to God who gave it. 
— as 1 saw those lips which we had so often hung 
upon with rapture, motionless and sealed in death. — 
and as 1 reflected that all those marvellous acquisitions 
and gifts, that matchless memory, that exquisite diction, 
that exhaustless illustration, that infinite variety, which 
no a^e could wither and no custom stale. — that ail. all 
were henceforth lost to us forever. I could onl\ recall 
the touching lines which I remembered to have seen 


applied to the sudden death, not many years ago, of a 
kindred spirit of old England, — one of ber greatest 
statesmen, one of his most valued friends — 

"Could not the grave forget thee, and lay low 
Some less maji stie, less beloved head'? 
Those who sveep not for Kings shall weep for thee, 
And Freed : eart grow heavy at thy I 

Hon. Alexander II. Bullock, then spoke as follows: — 

Mr. Mayor and Fellow-Citizens: — 

This place which welcomed him through so manv 
years, this hour of noon in which he so often charmed 
and instructed us. the tones of his voice yet lingering 
here to plead a sublime charity, are better than the 
written or spoken words, with which you seek to en- 
compass with mournful honors the name of our illus- 
trious and departed citizen. And yet the ties of state, 
the pride of fellowship, the memory of services, bring 
us by instinct here to form the long train of those who 
lament this death, so unexpected, so timely. Our as- 
sembling is not to add honors to him who had won his 
own. but to testify in the general grief, that, born anions 
us, living his life in the presence of us. placed by us 
in the highest positions with which we could invest 
him, he kept to the last, bright and electric the sympa- 
thies of the mutual relationship, so that when he passed 
away, we, above all others, felt the -heck of the separ- 
ation, lie not only died among his kindred, but in the 
midst of a people who bad made him especially their 


own. He was the contemporary of two generations in 
the State, but his mental activity, his increasing wis- 
dom, his maturing fame, bad made Mr. Everett, beyond 
the lot of most men, a brighter and more particular 
treasure to the second generation, than he had been to 
the first. The pall fell from heaven at the right mo- 
ment. Never before had we respected him no greatly, 
never before had we esteemed him so tenderly, as when 
he died crowned with age that bore the emblems of 
youth, rich in renown that blended the splendor of 
manhood with the mellow lustre of later years, carry- 
ing to the portals of immortality that noble vindication 
of a long life which devotion to patriotism and philan- 
thropy host furnishes as the closing scene. 

This is not the time to pass in review the varied 
eer of our lamented statesman and scholar. lie was 
statesman and scholar in the highest sense, and lie 
made the two characters reflect upon each other, that 
light am! glory which, when blended, makes the life of 
a public man most radiant. Here in this mart of com- 
merce I hold up his name in behalf of the retreats of 
the schools. Ilis early academic success, which for 
example and fascination was the first and best our 
country has supplied, upon which he never turned an 
averted face, as men are accustomed too frequently to 
do in the rude turmoil of our politics, was a life-long 
and elemental power which he wielded in every sphere 
of his labors. He carried it from yonder shades into 
Congress; was never ashamed to use it there; never 
to]] away from it, and rose upon it to the respect and 

IN', IX FAXE1 II, 11 W. 1 .")7 

admiration of his associates. Xo man from Eton or 
Oxford ever did more in this respect for the parliament 
of Great Britain, than he has done for ours. So 
Canning graced and delighted her Commons; so the 
ignorance of Castlereagh was more than once rebuked; 
so Pitt made a broad scholarship an instrument ot 
power — a weapon for an onset. Our Canning produced 
thr same effect by the scope and beauty of his exam- 
ple, though among older, more arrogant, more over- 
powering men, it was not in accord with his nature to 
lead in the positive attack. This was the bed whence 
blossomed the flowers of a large and enduring influence. 
Entering Congress in its palmiest period, and continu- 
ing there ten years, while its great Senator- were wont 
to come into the Ilou^e to listen to our Everett and 
Choate, it was fortunate for us that he so kept high 
the standard of debate and so adorned the counsels of 
statesmanship, with the "races of learning and of elo- 
quence, that when he came away to take the chair of 
our State at home, he left behind a treasured memory 
of cultured mastery for the State at the capitol. 1 
know that Mr. Clay, listening to him for the first time, 
then thirty-five or six years of age, said to a bystander, 
■•this is the acme of eloquence." Our Commonwealth 
cannot afford to forget her sons who have given her 
the first place in the Federal councils — who, opening 
a brilliant career for themselves, have illustrated her 
institutions and enlarged her capacity for bem 

It has been our g 1 fortune, to have had there a long 

line of such statesmen, which began with Ames, which 


found a complete representative in Everett. Much one 
lias been a stimulation to the other. Mr. Choate once 
told me that while residing in Washington it was his 
pride to gather up the scattered traditions, floating 
through all thai social life, of the forensic efforts of 
Webster : and who shall say how much his own trans- 
cendent idea may have been quickened by the magic 
of such rumor? Mr. Everett in the twelve years he 
served in the two houses, so far as I know, brought 
never to any discussion, a rhetorical treatment that 
would have done discredit to Burke, or Fox, or Rom- 
illy. Such attainment deserves our perpetual remem- 
brance. It is among the enduring forces by which we 
may hope to influence greater States and greater num- 
bers than our own in all after time. 

From- his academic and Congressional course Mr. 
Everett passed to the curule chair of Massachusetts, 
lie held if in those dull times of peace, four years. 
while it furnished no deep excitements to his ambition. 
It was not a. time or a place for special originations. 
The genius of that period was the genius of some 
improvement, hut of more routine. And yet I conceive 
that he performed a good work for us. and for poster- 
ity, in his support of our grand State system existing 
already, and as the official patron of those greater and 
better plans of education and charity which make States 
immortal. It is now a quarter of a century since his 
administration terminated, and in the more conspicuous 
action which has since distinguished him on broader 
and more fertile fields of fame, that has been compari- 

MEETING IN V \M:i ll. HALL. .")!) 

tively obscured. But it was an essential portion of his 
life. His record as chief magistrate is without blemish. 
He never lowered the dignity of state; he never called 
unworthy counsel around him; he left the office un- 
tarnished as he found it. 

It does not comport with my purpose of brevity to 
detain you with reminiscences which belong to protracted 
address or stated biography. [ regard as among the 
more striking services he has rendered, his connection 
at two periods with our foreign affairs. You remember 
how the advent of Mr. Webster to the Department of 
State found Mr. Everett in a foreign land, whither he 
had repaired for a scholar's travel and a scholar's sol- 
ace. At the call of the President he accepted the cre- 
dentials for the highest court of Europe. Tt was a 
critical period. History is too busy now with graver 
matters at home to have much space for that; but it 
was a. critical epoch. The shadows of war frowned from 
the Canadas ; the tires of the Caroline lighted up the 
frontier. We came out of the crisis without the stain 
of blood or the discolor of smoke upon our diplomatic 
robes. You may distribute the honors as you please 
among Webster, and Ashburton, and Everett, but he who 
stood our representative before the grandest court of the 
world, in constant correspondence and mutual counsel with 
his great friend at the capitol, cannot be overlooked in 
the impartial distribution. 

About tm years later, he himself was called to the 
Department of Stale, which was vacant. It had been 
vacated by the death of Daniel Webster. It was a 


"rent vacancy, which no man could till so well. Think 
a moment, to what statesmanship in diplomacy Mr. Ev- 
erett succeeded. Have you sufficiently reflected, that 
great as Webster has been at the bar. and in the Senate, 
he was greater Mill at the august international tribunal, 
in the court of nations, before the juries of histon '. 
Such he proved himself to he. How. under Harrison, 
he asserted himself, and vindicated his country to un- 
precedented grandeur. How, in the case of the Caro- 
line, he dramatized the literature of the international 
code by the elements of his conception and the majesty 
of his rhetoric. How. in the question of impressment, 
he settled all that Rush and those after him had left 
loose and unadjusted, by the memorable despatch, which 
has never received a reply and never can receive a re- 
futation. How. in the Treaty of Washington, he drew 
those northeastern lines with the precision of science 
and with the power of destiny, that shall last forever. 
Mr. Everett succeeded to his chair, and carried with 
him the confidence of Massachusetts that he would 
prove equal to the exigency. The teacher had departed, 
hut the disciple remained to complete his mission. It 
was a new era in his life; hut he more than matched 
its necessities. By one comprehensive study, by one 
continuous and magnetic triumph of his pen. he raised 
what some of us thought the effete and demoralized 
administration of Fillmore, to the respect of a chival- 
rous people. His tri-partite letter, unique, original, and 
independent, justified our America upon a base exclu- 
sively ler own. The philosophy of that letter was well 


then; it is better now. It is a quiver from which we 
may draw the weapons against any and every European 
intervention. Mr. Everett of the Cabinet of 1852 is 
our diplomatic instructor this day. He asserted a pol- 
icy upon which we will statu! and defy interference; 
he touched chords of country which will vibrate while 
this war shall last ; he lifted the clear signal to nations 
which may in some day of the future become the flam- 
ing cross of deliverance to Mexico. In the ripeness of 
his age he was. at the hour of his death, 1 apprehend, 
one of the most just and equitable and learned and best 
balanced expounders of international law on the globe. 
If he might have lived to execute his purpose, the 
volume which he proposed upon the laws and rights of 
nations would. I believe, have placed him at the head 
of that sublime jurisprudence which is founded upon 
the historic lessons of Christian civilization. 

We are about to bury our foremost scholar and ora- 
tor. Do not suppose that I intend to analyze now the 
remarkable eloquence of Mr. Everett. I only allude to 
it. He was a perfect literary artist; but this idea of 
him has in some minds been the source of most unjust 
conception as to the wider domain of his force and his 
power. And this injustice, while it is according to ex- 
perience, is also unphilosophical. Mr. Webster in his 
practice was scarcely less observant of the dramatic cir- 
cumstances of public eloquence; but rising on broader 
and deeper foundations, being less frequent and conver- 
sant with the schools, cast in the mould of country life 
and more familiar with its sympathies, and more than all, 


trained iii that most democratical discipline of trials 
before juries, lie escaped the reputation of speaking ac- 
cording to art. No man. however, ever understood this 
art better than he. With him, this characteristic assumed 
tli r form not of a line art. but of tin' power of drama. 
It is no I worth while to cite illustrations, but the fact 
is known to all close critics. His library, bis study was 
veiled to the world, but he himself passed the long and 
solemn hours behind the curtain, before his stateh form 
emerged to attract the wonder of men. Mr. Everett 
never could extinguish the midnight lamp, never could 
disguise the alcoves he loved. But no man in our day 
has painted so well, and left no specific trace of how the 
colors bad been applied. I doubt if at any time, until 
within the last ten years, educated men have quite dune 
him justice in this particular. Art is apt to conceal the 
substance of greatness ; manner oftentimes overshades the 
matter. It is so through all of life. Robert Walpole 
was really one of the ablest of British premiers ; but his 
adherence to the arts of his office lost him the credit of 
his administration in the popular judgment, lie who 
shall pronounce your formal eulogy upon Mr. Everett 
cannot say that his eloquence had exactly the sweeping 
majesty which bore Chatham or Webster through periods 
swelling and resounding like a national anthem, or like 
the thunders of great armadas on the sea ; such pas- 
sages come rarely to human ears; they 

"(' .in ! as ill" winds eorae, when forests are rended : 
('oin,' as tin 1 waves come, when navies are stranded. 

Ml ! I !\(, IN F \m:ui. II ILL. ii:! 

But he shall accord to him the finest and most complete 

proportions that have marked any orator of this 
The mould of personal form, all the graces, the voice, 
the cadences, parth constitutional and partly acquired, 
all that is histrionic and attractive, all that nature could 
furnish and art could add. belonged in largest measure 
and in purest style to him. But this is only the form, 
the style and the stage. There was a greatness of 
character behind all this. You sometimes overlooked 
the depth of his philosophy, the richness of his reflection, 
only because he pleased and beguiled you. Not a sen- 
tence unnecessary, not a word unessential, can you find 
in all that he has said or written, lie never rejected 
truisms if they might ho profitable; but he illuminated 
them with the choicest colors of the rainbow. He never 
neglected the lessons of religion, or science, or experi- 
ence, but he had the genius to make them winning as a 
first love. He had exquisite humor and subtle art ; but 
if it escaped his tongue or pen it was quite likely to min- 
gle with some pensive thought that toned it down to 
marvellous sobriety and beauty. I lis smile on the plat- 
form was of that kind which we are told belongs to 
genius, because melancholy is a part of genius : and yet 
it pleased us, because it was uncommon and serene. He 
had a peculiar tenderness of oratory. 

But the eloquence of Mr. Everett ended not here. He 
had all knowledge, all gifts, all tongues. No man of this 
generation, save Macanlay, had equal command of the 
treasures of the ages. No orator in America, from the 
first until now. has so woven into his addresses the in- 


structions of history. This I have thought to be his 
specialty. His memory was comprehensive, retentive, 
and perfect. He had read everything, and he remem- 
bered all that he had read. There is no such treasury 
for an orator as that, if he have all the other plenitudes, 
powers and graces, as Mr. Everetl possessed them. Ac- 
cordingly, for an entire generation, he has instructed bis 
country in historical knowledge and historical analogies, 
and bis instructions have bad the charm of freshness, and 
naturalness, and fitness. In this department of usefulness, 
broad enough for the highest ambition, he has had no 
equal among all his countrymen. In this we have always 
delighted to call him our master and our guide. And 
thus, to our Congress and our Cabinets, to our cultured 
men and to all our people, he has been a splendid 
educator. His instructions have descended from his 
own elevated table-land, through our social strata, puri- 
fying and ennobling every class of mind, fascinating by 
their gorgeous but natural array, and carrying on their 
wing the transport of communicated thought and knowl- 
edge. I appropriate to him the eulogy from Milton ; 
" I shall detain yon no longer in the demonstration, 
but strait conduct ye to a hill-side, were I will point ye 
out the right path of a virtuous and noble education ; 
laborious indeed at the first ascent, but also so smooth. 
so green, so full of goodly prospect, and melodious 
sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus was 
not more charming." 

Ilis greatest days were his last. The country did not 
know him perfectly until 1861. Then he renewed his 


youth; then he broke away from his own traditions and 
associations, and mounted to that wise, large patriotism 
which Las sruided twenty loyal millions to life and slorv. 
He waited not for others, nor for the victory of our 
arms ; hut in those first days of war and gloom, his 
voice sounded like a clarion over this land. Almightj 
God be praised that he lias been spared to us these 
four years! In these temples of your eloquence, in 
that commercial metropolis where his counsel was more 
needed, everywhere, and every day. by public speech 
and through the popular press, he has confirmed hesi- 
tating men at home, he has inspired your armies in 
the field. These victories which fill the air to-day, 
peal grandly over his inanimate form ; they cannot 
wake him from sleep, but they are a fitting salute for 
his burial. He passes to his rest when the whole 
heaven is lighted up to proclaim that his mission has 
been accomplished. The same page of the calendar 
shall repeat to the next age, the death of Everett and 


Mr. James M. Beebe offered the following additional resolution, 
which was inserted in the list originally reported, and the whole 
series was then unanimously adopted : — 

Resolved, That as a tribute of respect to the mem- 
ory of Mr. Everett, this meeting recommend to our 
fellow-citizens that the banks, insurances offices, and 
other places of business be closed to-morrow at the 
hour set apart for his funeral. 



In accordance with one of the resolutions the Chairman ap- 
pointed the following-named gentlemen a Committee to take 
measures for the erection of a statue in honor of Edward 

Charles < '< ■ Loring, 
Robert C. Winthrop, 
( reorge Livermore, 
J. II. Wolcott, 
( rCO. B. I'pton, 
( reo. C. Richardson, 
( Itis Xorci 
Edward S. Tobey, 
Nathaniel Thayer, 
,1a-. M. Beebe, 
James Lawrence, 
Eben Dale, 
Martin Brimmer, 
F. E. Parker, 
Gardner Brewer, 
Sidney Bartlett, 
Geo. S. Hillard, 

1 X. Haskell, 
Charles P. Dunbar, 
Geo. W'm. Bond, 
J. Tisdale Bradlee, 
John S. T\ ler, 
Wm. Endicott, jr. 
Henry A. Pierce, 
J. "NY. Seaver, 
Henry P. Kidder, 
"Wm. l'>. Fowle, jr. 

Geo. Ticknor, 

Jacob Bigelow, 

.1. Mason Warren. 

Wm. Amory, 

( 'has. Amory, 

Edw. Austin, 

J. J. Dixwell, 

Sam'l D. Crane, 

W. W. Clapp, jr. 

Josiah Quincy, 

( Hiver I >its(in, 

Jos. T. Bailey, 

J. G. Palfrey, 

( reo. W. Messinger, 

S. K. Lothrop, 

C. G. < rreene, 

Albert Fearing, 

Sam'l H. Walley, 

Ruins Ellis, 

.1. Ingersoll Bowditch, 

Chas. O. Rogers, 

Francis Bacon, 

Wm. ( iray, 

Henry I. Bowditch, 

Albert Bowker, 

Albert J. Wright, 

(). W. Holmes. 


Samuel (i. Ward, Thomas (i. Appl 

Richard II. Dana, James L. Little, 

Thomas ( raffield, Pi ter Harvey, 

J. M. Wightman. 

On motion, the name of His Honor Mayor Lincoln was added 
to the Committee. 

The mei tins then dissolved. 

1 rXERAL. 


The funeral of Mr. Everett took place on Thursday, Jan- 
uary 19. The public solemnities were under the charge of 
the Committee of the City Council, and were conducted with 
as little displav as the proprieties of the occasion would permit. 
Since the death of Mr. Webster no such general and profound 
manifestations of sorrow had been exhibited. The announcement 
made by order of the President of the United States, on Sunday, 
had led many to expect that he would honor the obsequies with his 
presence; his official duties, however, rendered it impracticable; 
and on Wednesday, a despatch was received from Mr. Seward, 
stating that fact, and tendering to the Commonwealth the condo- 
lence of the President and the Heads of Departments, "on the 
lamented death of Edward Everett, who was worthy to be 
enrolled among the noblest of the nation'- benefactors." 

The public services were held in the First Church in Chauncy 
Street, where Mr. Everett had been a constant attendant for many 
years. Although the weather was unusually cold, and the ground 
was covered with snow, the streets in the vicinity, and along the 
whole route of the procession, were crowded with people long 
before the hour appointed for the ceremonies to begin. It being 
understood that the galleries of the church would he reserved 

72 MEMORIAL OF EDWARD l.\ l i;i I i 

for ladies, an immense number congregated in front of the doors 
as early as ten o'clock, and waited patiently, until the doors were 
opened at eleven o'clock. All public buildings, and many of the 
places of business in the city were closed. In the Merchants' 
Exchange, the Public Library, the Mercantile Library, and 
the Union Club House, emblems of mourning were displayed, 
and on public, and private buildings the national flag appeared at 

Previous to the public ceremonies in the church, there were 
private services at Mr. Everett's house in Summer Street, at 
which Rev. Edward Everett Hale officiated. None but the 
relatives and intimate personal friends of the deceased were pres- 
ent. The Independent Corps of Cadets, Lieutenant-Colonel 
Holmes, performed guard duty in front of the house during the 
services, and at their conclusion escorted the remains to the 
church. The following-named gentlemen acted as pallbearers : — 

Emory Washburn, F. W. Lincoln, Jr. 

Ex-Governor of Massachusetts. Mayor of the City. 

Thomas Hill, George T. Bigelow, 

President of Harvard University. Chief Justice Supreme Court. 

George Ticknor, Robert C. Wlnthrop, 

Trustee Public Library. Pr< sidenl Historical Society. 

Charles G. Loring, Asa Gray, 

Vice-President Union Club. Pres. of Acad, of Arts and Sciences. 

.T. D. Graham, Silas II. Stringham, 

Colonel United stutcs Army. Rear-Admiral United States Navy. 

In accordance with the notice issued by the Chief Marshal, the 
delegations from various organizations which had signified their 
desire to participate in the ceremonies, assembled at the City 
Hall at half-past eleven o'clock, and marched thence, at twelve 


o'clock, to the church. His Excellency the Governor, the mem- 
bers of his .-tall', the President of the State Senate, the Speaker 
of the House, the Joint Committee from the General Court, and 
the Overseers of Harvard University, arrived at the church at 
the same time. 

Shortly alter twelve o'clock, the body was borne into the church, 
and up the main aisle. The entire congregation arose and remained 
standing, until the coffin was placed upon the table below the 
pulpit. A chant was performed by the choir; and Rev. dames 
Walker, I'. I'., the venerable ex-President of Harvard University, 
then offered prayer, and read appropriate selections from the 
Scriptures. Rev. Rufus Ellis, pastor of the church, made the 
following address : — 

We are on our way to commit to the earth all that 
was mortal of a great and good, and justly famous man; 
a man so great, so good, so famous, that the honors 
decreed for him by the head of the nation will be most 
gratefully rendered, and that to the very letter of the 
decree, at home and abroad, wherever the national 
name and authority are recognized. We have paused 
I'm- a few moments and laid down our burden within 
these consecrated walls — so familiar and dear to him 
who has gone from us — that we may acknowledge the 
Giver of Life, the Father of Him who is the resurrec- 
tion and the life, the best and the only comforter. It 
is lor this that we are here, believing that our burden 
will be lightened for hands, which are so ready to hang 
down, if only we can obtain help from God. 

And yet. before we seek the refuge of prayer, in 
the name and the faith of Christ, a word must be 


spoken to this great company — a word from heart to 
heart — of him whom you revered and admired, and 
loved; for I am sure that the most halting speech, so 
it be sincere, will do more justice than silence, to the 
spirit of this hour, so solemn, and yet so rich in 
memories and in hopes. In these few and swiftly 
passing moments. I cannot tell the story of this grandly 
completed life, as full of works as of days, from its 
boyhood, mature as manhood, to its age, vigorous as 
youth. I may not attempt any analysis of this line 
intellect, or try to explore with you. the hiding-places 
of this great power. I shall undertake no delineation 
of a character which was always most admired by 
those who wore brought nearest to it. and which like 
some of the works of the most conscientious artists, 
was most finished where it made the least shew. We 
are on our way to a grave, and our words must In- 
few, and they may be very simple, for uppermost in 
our minds and abounding in our hearts, are proud 
and grateful thoughts of the departed, which the 
tongue of the most unlettered might tell. 

What is it, friends, that has made this man so very 
deal' to the people, I do not say to scholars, to the 
few, but to the people, yea, their foremost citizen in 
these times when God has made " a man more precious 
than hue gold, even a man than the golden wedge 
of Ophir!" Why is the announcement of his sudden 
death, by the President of the United States, only the 
utterance of a nation's sorrowing heart? I answer, — 
you answer, — not merely because he was your scholar 

nu; m m;kai,. ,.> 

and u ripe and good one; not merely because be was 
your orator, one of tbe most eloquent and instructivi 
of men, your cbief speaker for every grand and good 
occasion; not merely because of bis life-long service 

to letters and to tbe education of tbe ] pie ; not 

merely because of bis labors for tin- State, at home 
and abroad, in ordinary times, honorable, admirable, as 
be ever was in these things ; but because in tbe hour 
of sure trial, and when tbe nation's very life hung in 
tbe balance, and patriotism was something more than 
an idle word for tbe tritler to ring changes upon, he 
bis proved himself to be first, last, only, and altogether 
a Christian patriot, an American, indeed, in whom was 
no guile, resolved at all costs to himself, of old friend- 
ships if need be. of old prejudices, our costliest 
possessions, to do bis whole duty to tbe land and tbe 
people of bis affections, as to tbe mother that bore him 
and nourished him, and led him up to bis grand and 
serviceable manhood. I mean no disparagement of 
former services; nay; where some might criticise, I 
should justify, and yet on tins day of bis solemn 
burial I say lienor to this large, this regal soul, which 
ci mid not sacrifice itself to obsolete ideas, or go about, 
with tbe dead burying their dead, or crush the 
throbbing life of to-day under any old traditions ; 
honor to him who could see that old principles maj 
demand new methods, and that tbe wisdom of yester- 
day may lie tbe folly of to-day. During these grand 
historic years, years in which many an hour has been 
worth whole months of commonplace existence, with 


the rest of the nation, he lias been passing through 
the refiner's fire, and \ou have found, dear friends, to 
your joy, for nothing refreshes and delights us so much 
as to be able to reverence and admire, and love — 
you have found that the finest gold was in him, that 
he was more than your great scholar, more than your 
great orator, more than your trusted statesman and 
diplomatist, that he was your great citizen and your 
brother man, your country his country, your political 
faith his political faith — not a man to babble gar- 
rulously of foreign despotisms, but a lover and a 
servant of our republican institutions, his heart throb- 
bing with your hearts, and alive with sacred national 
memories, and precious hopes for humanity sighing 
to be uplifted and redeemed. How manly, how con- 
sistent, how steadfast, how unwearied he has been, 
in all his glorious speaking and doing from the first 
moment when our nation's life was assailed, to that 
day so fatal to us, but so honorable to him, when 
weighed down as he was by sickness, and already entering 
into the death-shadow, he asked help in such eloquent 
words for those who, as we hope, are ceasing to be 
our enemies, in the name of that holy and sweet 
charity which St. Paid, inspired by our Lord, lias 
taught us, saying, " If thine enemy hunger, feed him." 
So he took up in the time of his age and for his last 
public act, the sacred office which he had laid down 
in youth, and was found at the last a gospel preacher. 
When the history of our nation's regeneration shall 
be written, — and it will be an illuminated record. — 


when victory and peace, which arc as sure to be ours 
as that the sun burns in the heavens, shall be the 
reward of patient struggle, no name shall shine out more 
brightly upon the page, or be pronounced more thank- 
fully by the lips, than the name of him for whom we 
both rejoice and mourn to-day. In these last great 
years Ave have seen the beauty, we have breathed in 
the fragrance of the fair, consummate flower of a noble 
plant. Never has the bright sun of his life shone with 
such refulgent brightness as when it neared the setting, 
but was even more a giant than when it climbed the 
morning sky. And all this strength was blended with 
so much gentleness, all this earnest speech was so free 
from bitterness and wrath, all this public virtue was 
bound up with so much private worth and household 
love and Christian faith. Alas! that his day must 
needs come! Strange ! that when so many only cumber 
the earth, and eat and drink, but do m>t die to-morrow! 
Alas! that we are here and without him, with only this 
sacred dust, precious indeed in our sight and to be 
borne away most tenderly, and yet so sadly reminding 
us. that himself is gone. Alas! for our necessity is still 
so great and our counsellor was so wise and so noble, 
so prudent and so charitable, so thoroughly furnished 
for the hour! Would, we say, that God who hath an 
eternity to give from, had given more time to him who 
knew so well how to redeem time ! And yet, my 
friends, who are we that we should reply against God? 
and hath the Christ been so Ion;.;' time with us and 
have we not yet learned to trust utterly in the 


Divine Providence, in Him that taketh away as well as 
in Him that giveth, in Him who said b) the lips of 

his own dear Sun. "Except a corn of wheat fall into 
the ground and die, it abideth alone, but if it die, 
it bringeth forth much fruit!" Let us rather give 
thanks for the life in the light of which we have 
lived and which God hath crowned with glory and 
honor and immortality, for its years of devotion to the 
things which arc highest and holiest; stricken, bereaved, 
let us bow reverently and submissively to the Divine 
decree, and have no will but that Will which is for- 
ever Love; let us have faith that with his blessimi who 
appoints lor us our works and our days, and nieteth out 
our span with an unerring wisdom, there shall come 
forth, life from this death, beauty from these ashes, life 
and beauty for earth as well as for heaven. Being dead 
he doth yet speak to us, if only we have open cars, 
more eloquently than even he. worthy to he named 
with the most famous masters of speech since the world 
began, could speak to us. being yel alive. But why do 
1 say " being dead." seeing that the righteous live for- 
evermore, seeing that their reward is with the Lord and 
the care of them with the most High, and that below 
and above, He giveth to them a beautiful kingdom and 
a glorious crown and an abiding ministry! Honor 
to the dead! and what titter honor can we paj to the 
dead than by consecrating ourselves, about these re- 
mains, to that dear country whose hoi} cause he who 
i- gone can plead no longer in the name of Humanity, 
of Christ, of God, to whom in death, and in life be glory 
fun \ it and ever ! Amen. 


Rev. Mr. Ellis, then offered prayer, and after a hymn 
had been sung, he descended from the pulpit and read a 
portion of the burial service. An anthem was sung, and the 
services were concluded with a benediction, pronounced by 
Rev. Dr. Walker. 

The funeral procession was finned soon after one o'clock, 
under the direction of the following officers: — 

Chief Marshal. 
Brevet Brig. Gen. F. A. < Isborn. 

Geo. II. Kingsbury, Lieut.-Col. O. \V Peabody. 

David II. Coolidge, A. J. C. Sowdon, 

T. B. Winchester, S. A. Stetson, 

Elias B. Gleason, Capt. J. C. Maker, 

Mai. Emv. ('. Richardson, W. Rali'ii Emerson, 


Capt. J. II. Lombard. Capt. John N. Partridge. 

Tlie military escort was under the command of Lieutenant- 
Colonel < '. < '. Holmes, with Lieut. <L ( '. Winsor acting as 
Aid-de-< 'amp. 

The order of the procession was as follows: — 

Drum Corps. 

First Unattached Co. Infantry, M. V. M, (Lincoln Guard.) 

Capt. M. E. Bigelow. 

Marine Land. 
Battalion of Four Companies I . S. Marine,-. Capt. Lowry, 

( 'oininandinu'. 



Chelsea Band, ( mounted. ) 
Company B, First Battalion Light Dragoons, (Boston Light 

Dragoons,) Capt. Charles T. Stevens. 

Company A, First Battalion Light Dragoons, (National Lancers,) 

Capt. Lucius Slade. 

Pall Bearers in Carriages. 

Brigade Band. 

Independent Corps of Cadets, Major Charles B. Raymond, 



( 'ailct.- 

Howitzer Battery of the ( !adets. 

Relatives of the Deceased in Carriages. 

( 'hief Marshal and Aids. 

City Council, School Committee, and Trustees of the Public 

Library of the City of Boston. 

His Excellency, the Governor, and his Stall'. 

Executive and Legislative Departments of the Commonwealth. 

Corporation and Overseers of Harvard College. 

( (fficers of the Army and Navy. 

Justices of the Supreme Judicial Court. 

1 >elegations fiom : — 

American Antiquarian Society. 

Massachusetts Historical Society. 

.Massachusetts Charitable Mechanic Association. 

Boston Board of Trade. 

Professors and Students of Harvard College. 

City Government of Worcester. 

City Government of Charlestown. 

Bunker Hill Monument Association. 

Lexington Monument Association. 

New England Historic Genealogical Society. 

THE it\i;kal. si 

Franklin .Medal Scholars. 

Mercantile Library Association. 

Committee, Master, and Pupils of the Everett School. 

Ancient ami Honorable Artillery Company, in citizens' dress. 

The procession began to move at two o'clock over the following 
route: through Chauncy, Washington, School, Beacon, Charles, 
and Cambridge streets to Cambridge Bridge. The bells on all 
the churches in the city were tolled, and minute-guns were fired 
by a section of Light Artillery, on the Common, during the 
passage of the procession through the city. The streets were 
lined with spectators, many of whom reverently uncovered their 
heads as the hearse passed. At Cambridge Bridge a portion of 
the procession was dismissed. The Cadets and the Brigade Band, 
were conveyed to Harvard Square in cars. The procession was 
there reformed again, and then proceeded to Mount Auburn 
Cemetery. The remains of Mr. Everett were interred in the 
family lot, No. 17 Magnolia Avenue. There were no services at 
this place. Wreaths of white (lowers and evergreens were placed 
upon the coffin, and as it was lowered into the grave, the Brigade 
Band began the solemn strains of the " Dead March" in Saul. 

1 1 



At a meeting' of the School Committee of the City of [Joston, 
nil Tuesday, January 24, 18G5, Ills Honor the Mayor in the 
Chair, l!ev. S. K. Lothrop, I'. I'., made the following 
remarks : — 

Mr. President: Since the last meeting of this Board, 
an event has occurred which lias thrown a gloom over 
our city, our community, our country. Edward Everett, 
whose name for more than fifty years has been held in 
honor among us, associated with learning, literature, 
eloquence, statesmanship, philanthropy, and patriotism, 

— who has filled a great variety of public offices and 
adorned them all by rare abilities and eminent fidelity, 

— whose career has been marked by an unspotted in- 
tegritv, purity, and a large usefulness, has suddenly 
been called from among us. and the places that have so 
long known him here, shall know him no more for- 
ever. The City Government have taken appropriate 
notice of this sad event. The authorities of the State 
have not let it pass unobserved ; the Chief Magistrate 
of the nation 1ms called the attention of the countn to 

si; memorial of edwaud evetcett. 

the less of a devoted patriot — its foremost private citi- 
zen. — and as the intelligence of this event is borne 
over the land and over the sea, many in all parts of 
the Christian world, will receive it with a deep regret, 
and give it some form of reverent notice. A medal 
scholar of the Boston Public Schools, receiving the first 
rudiments of his education at those institutions which 
are under the special charge of this Board ; retaining 
at all times and up to the close of his life a strong 
interest, not only in the great cause of popular educa- 
tion, but especially in the Public Schools of our city, 
it is due not only to him, but to ourselves, that our 
Records should contain some expression of our gratitude 
for his services, our sorrow at his death, our respect for 
his memory. 

I ask leave, therefore. Mr. President, to submit the 
following resolutions, and, if adopted, to have them 
placed upon our Records: — 

Ulicreas, The Hon. Edward Everett died suddenly, 
after a brief illness, at his residence in Summer Street. 
on Sunday morning, the loth instant, the School Com- 
mittee of the City of Boston, on this their first meeting 
after his decease, desire to adopt, and place upon their 
Records the following resolutions. 

Resolved, That we share in the universal regret and 
sorrow which this event awakens, and sympathize in all 
the private and public tokens of profound respect so 
justly paid to the memory of one who has enriched our 
literature bj his learning and scholarship, illustrated our 
history, and instructed our people, by many eloquent 

]\ Till. M'lloi u, COMMIT l S7 

orations and addresses, elevated public and political life 
among us bv faithful service in exalted station, and by 
the dignity, purity, and unstained integrity of his char- 
actor and conduct ; who has often stirred our patriotism 
by his fervent appeals, confirmed it by his cogent argu- 
ments, guided by his illustrious example, and who, 
through ;i long life of unremitted industry, and the 
uoble exercise of great and versatile powers in manifold 
positions and offices, and 1>\ a beautiful exhibition of 

Christian virtues, in private and domestic relations. 

has adorned our common humanity, and left us, in his 

fame, a legacy to be cherished with gratitude and pride. 

Resolved, That it is specially incumbent upon this 

txl, instituted for the promotion, and entrusted with 
the guardianship of the Public Schools of the city, to 
recognize and honor his name and services as connected 
with the cause of popular education. Receiving his 
own first distinction in life — the Franklin Medal — 
twice, first at the North School in 1804, and again at 
our Public Latin School in 1806, he lias never ceased. 
for half a century, amid all his honors and avocations, 
to feel a. deep interest in these primary fountain-- of 
learning, whose healing waters are for the enlightenment 
ot the whole people; and has repeatedly manifested his 
respect and confidence by using them for the education 
ot' his children and his children's children; and his Chief 
Magistracy of our Commonwealth, wise and firm in its 
administration of all our affairs, was distinguished b) two 
events, — the inauguration of the Board of Education, 
and of our State Normal School-, which are as honorable 



testimonials of patriotic wisdom and usefulness as any 
incumbent has ever left in the Chair of State, and grandly 
beneficent in the effect they have had to enlarge, elevate 
and advance that popular education which is the secret 
of the past and present position, power, and prosperity 
of Massachusetts. 

Resolved, That, while we how in devout submission to 
the Divine Will, which has removed from among us so 
eminent and useful a citizen, it is alike a duty, a pleasure, 
and a benefit to recall with gratitude his distinguished 
services, to cherish the memory of all that was beautiful, 
useful, honorable, and Christian in his life and character, 
and make it an incentive in our individual hearts to a 
like fidelity, — a fidelity that in us. also, shall meet the 
measure of our ability and our opportunities. 

The Resolutions were unanimously adopted. 




A special meeting of the Trustees of the Public Library was 
held on the 17th of Jan. 1865, at 11 o'clock, A. m., to take suit- 
able notice of the death of their President, the Hon. Edward 
Everett. The following resolutions were offered by George Tick- 
nor, Esq., chairman of the meeting, and were unanimously adopted 
by the Board : — 

Resolved, That, while the Trustees of the Public Li- 
brary, in common with all their fellow-citizens, look back, 
with proud gratitude, to the record of the eminent ser- 
vices rendered by Mr. Everett in trusts and ways so vari- 
ous and so distinct, not only to the highest interests of 
our country and our Commonwealth, but to the inter- 
ests of letters and religion, and to the promotion of all 
that is good, faithful, and worthy everywhere, during bis 
long life, an uncommon portion of which has been 
marked and honored on both --ides of the Atlantic. — we yet 
feel at this sad moment an obligation more especially 
resting on this Board thank fulh to acknowledge, how 
much is due to him from our own cit\ as one ot those. 


who earliest and most earnestly, counselled and promoted 
the foundation of this Public Library, to whose interests 
and progress, — amidst the many high and graver claims 
that were constant!} crowded on his care. — he devoted 
himself faithfulh from its first beginnings down to the 
very day before his death, acting, during the whole of its 
organized existence, with uniform wisdom, gentleness, 
and dignity, as its presiding offh 

Resolved. That, as a mark of respect to the memory of 
our late honored and lamented President, and, in deference 
to the feeling of this whole community, the Trustees direct 
the Library to he closed during the day of his interment, 
and that it be draped in mourning for the thirty days sub- 

Resolved, That the chairman of this meeting address to 
the family of Mr. Everett a certified copy of these pro- 
ings, expressing to them, at the same time, our heart- 
felt sympathy in this, their great sorrow, and commending 
them to the gracious God in whom he always trusted, ami 
to the Christian consolations, in which — during such 
times of trial and bereavement as come to all men — he 
found an unfailing support. 




Monday, Jax. L6, 1865. 
Mr. Wentworth, of Middlesex, offered the following order: — 
Whereas, intelligence has hern received announcing 
the death of the Hon. Edward Everett, at his residence in 
this city, 

Ordered. That a committee of rive on the part of the 
Senate, with such as the House may join, be appointed to 
consider and report what measures it may be proper for 
the Legislature to adopt as a testimonial of its gratitude 
for the public services and respect for the memory of the 
illustrious dead. 

The order was adopted, and Senators \\ entworth of Middlesex, 
Load of Plymouth, Parker of Suffolk, Fosterof Essex, and [vneil 
of Hampden were appointed as the Committee on the part of the 


The order from the Senate in regard t<> measures t<i he taken in 
relation to the decease of the Ihui. Edward Everett was concurred in 


and the following gentlemen were joined to the Senate committee 
on the subject : Messrs. Kimball of Boston, Wells of Chicopee, 
Scudder of Dorchester, Stone oi Charlestown, Hills of Boston, 
Stone of Waltham, Gallup of Brookfield, Dwellev of Hanover 
Warren of Windsor, and 1 lull of Dennis. 

Mr. Kimball, of Boston, moved that, out of respect for the 
memory of Mr. Everett, the House immediately adjourn. 


IN THE SEN \ i i-;. 

Tin i:si>av, January 20, 1865. 
A communication was received from Hi- Excellency the Gov- 
ernor, as follows : — 

Hon. J. E. Field, President of the Senate: — 

Sir: I perceive that the Semite will be in session at 
10 o'clock this morning to consider and adopt appro- 
priate measures in honor of the memory of our late 
illustrious fellow-citizen, Edward Everett. 

In the utmost sympathy with the Senate, and sharing 
its sense of bereavement, the Executive Department of 
the Commonwealth will cordially unite with the General 
Court in every demonstration of affectionate respect for 
the departed which it may adopt. The Governor and 
Council propose to attend the funeral to-day in a body. 
The military start' of the Commonwealth Headquarters 
have been directed to report at the Council Chamber 
at 11 o'clock \. M., and an appropriate militan detach- 
ment is under orders to perforin the duty of escorting 
the funeral procession, the Independent Corps of Cadets 


acting as a guard of honor to the remains of the de- 
ceased statesman, whose body guard they were in his 
former capacity of Governor of Massachusetts. 

I am, sir, with high respect, your obedient and hum- 
hie servant, 

John A. Andrew. 

Mr. Wentworth of Middlesex, from the committee on resolu- 
tions of respect to the memory of Mr. Everett, submitted the 
following, which were read by the Clerk:- — ■ 

Resolved. That, as members of the Senate and House 
of Representatives of the Commonwealth of Massachu- 
setts, we deem it our public duty to express the pro- 
found emotions with which we, and the people whom 
we represent, have received the intelligence of the death 
of the Hon. Edward Everett. 

Resolved. That we mourn with deep regret the loss 
of a citizen who, for fifty years, lias been the pride 
and ornament of the Commonwealth; who in early youth 
attracted public attention as a poet and scholar, and 
during a period in which he was the active associate 
of three generations of men had never ceased to occupy 
it as an accomplished man of letters and a finished and 
captivating orator; who united to singular gifts of speech 
and action an equally unusual power of application and 
habit of industry ; who touched no subject, however 
light, without leaving upon it the mark of conscientious 
care, and who investigated no question, however grave, 
without throwing over it the inimitable charm of o-enius ■ 


who, having begun active life with the patience and 
ripeness of age, Mill retained in age the grace and 
spirit of youth, and, when he had passed the allotted 
age id' man, so completely tilled the public eye and 
satisfied the public expectation, that had he no better 
claim for gratitude, his death would still be an irrepa- 
rable loss. 

Resolved. That we recollect with pride that the life 
of Mr. Everett was spent in the public service, and 
that we cherish in respectful remembrance the fidelity 
and signal success with which In- tilled the highest 
offices of Ins native State; that he administered these 
great public trusts as a personal duty, and devoted to 
all their details the same attention which he bestowed 
on his most splendid efforts; that he added dignity to the 
national councils by his profound learning as a states- 
man, and maintained the national honor abroad by the 
intelligence and wisdom of his diplomacy ; that he was 
never seduced by public indulgence to act on any 
measure without thorough investigation, and during his 
long and eventful public service, never failed to appre- 
ciate the magnitude and difficulty of the questions before 
him, and to give to them, all the strength of his great 
talents, and the illumination of his various knowledge. 
Nor are we to forget that he dignified his public station 
by private virtues ; by the profession of a Christian 
faith, and the practice of a Christian life. 

Resolved. That, while we thus gratefully recognize the 
eminent usefulness and importance of Mr. Everett's 
public life, we regard, and would here commemorate, 


as his highest title to honor and gratitude from the 
people of this Commonwealth, the timely and decisive 
service which he has rendered during the last lour years 
to our common country, in her struggle for national unity 
and national existence; and that we consider the prompt- 
ness with which he embraced the cause of the Union, 
the distinctness with' which lie saw the vital issues of 
the present war, the cordial support which he gave to 
the Government, the research and unequalled clearness 
of the productions by which he sought to form, and 
did form, an enlightened public opinion, the temperate 
and luminous papers by which he upheld our cause to 
the world, the confidence which his presence and his 
speech inspired in the success of our arms, and, more 
than all, the ardent love of country which animated his 
spoken and written words, and prompted him to those 
grand enterprises of national charity, of which he has 
left so little for others to complete, as the crowning 
glory of his long and brilliant life, and as entitling 
him to an imperishable place in the history of the 
I nited States as an Illustrious Citizen. 

Resolved. That an eulogy on his life and character, 
he pronounced before the Executive ami Legislative 
branches of the government of the Commonwealth, at 
some time during the present session. 

Resolved. That I [is Excellency the Governor be re- 
quested to transmit a copv of these resolves to the 
family of Mr. Everett. 

Rfsolrcd. That a Committee, consisting of the Pres- 
ident and ten members on the part of the Senate, and 


the Speaker and twenty members on the part of the 
House, be appointed to attend the funeral of the 

Mr. Wentworth addressed die Senate as follows: — 

The resolutions which have been read to the Senate 
are designed to express the sentiments of the Legisla- 
ture upon the melancholy event they are intended to 
commemorate. It is peculiarly fitting that we should, 
in an appropriate manner, and by pulilic action, call 
the attention of our fellow-citizens to the loss the coun- 
try has sustained in the death of Edward Everett. 
The orator, the statesman, the patriot, the philanthro- 
pist and Christian, is no more! For forty Aeais. with 
few and short intermissions, the exertions of Mr. Everett 
have been devoted to the public in various positions 
in the service of this, his native State, and of tin' 

Of the eminent ability and success which has marked 
his entile public career, of the patriotic efforts which 
have so signally illustrated the last years of his valu- 
able life, and of the philanthropic labors which have 
been so gracefully and bounteously yielded by him to 
every call of suffering and distress, there will be fitting 
occasion elsewhere for others to speak, — an occasion 
when a delineation of his character, life, and services 
will give to mankind a splendid example of the high- 
est talent employed for the noblest ends ; of a life de- 
voted with unusual fidelity to the welfare of the human 


race, and which has adorned the policy, the politics, 

and the literature of his country. 1 content myself 
with expressing my entire concurrence with the Legis- 
lative action proposed, and move the adoption of the 

.Mr. Worcester of Essex said: — 

Mr. President : I find myself constrained to violate 
a resolution which I had formed, in coming iuto this 
body, — that I would not occupy the attention of the 
Senate, except for a i'cw moments at a time, — per- 
haps, for months to come. But I owe a debt of 
gratitude to Mr. Everett, and must speak of him some- 
what with the feelings of a son. Were it not for 
this, my voice would probably now lie silent. 

It was my privilege to be a member of the College 
at Cambridge, when he returned from his four years of 
sojourn in Europe, to enter upon his duties as Eliot 
Professor of Greek literature. I may almost say, that 
his lecture-room in the old Harvard Hall was the birth- 
place of my mind. Sure I am, that no one of all the 
officers of the College had such an awakening power of 
influence upon my own mind ; and what is true of myself, 
I believe, was also true of my class generally. We 
were one of the five classes only, if 1 remember rightly, 
that enjoyed his instructions, in the senior year. 

He laid out a programme for a course of lectures upon 
Greek literature and the antiquities of the classic lands. 
which, instead of sumo twenty-five or thirty lectures, 


would have required three hundred for its entire com- 
pletion. II is manner of lecturing was colloquial and 
exceedingly familiar, lie would read a few pages from 
liis carefully prepared manuscripts, and then turn from 
'lie written lecture, and indulge himself in extemporized 
excurses, suggested l>v some word or association. In 
these he was no less interesting and instructive, than 
in the most finished parts of his lectures, as he read them 
in his deliberate and earnest, manner. Often have I seen 
him roll up his papers, and close the hour, when he did 
not appear to have delivered more than a third, if more 
than a sixth part, of what he had written for the occasion. 

It seemed to be his constant aim to arouse the interest 
and the emulation of the students, in exertions to qualify 
themselves for distinguished usefulness. lie has been 
represented as if he was not a man of warm heart, but 
was characteristically cold and unapproachable. He cer- 
tainly was not thus, as he appeared in the lecture-room, 
and as I saw him at other times, when he gave a few of 
us private instructions in an extra course of study, to 
which all were kindly invited. 

lie seemed as if he wished to break down those conven- 
tional barriers, which were designed probably to keep the 
students at a respectful, but which practically kept them 
it a disrespectful, distance from the officers. And it is no 
disparagement to any of those with whom he was associ- 
ated in the instruction of the College, to say that no one of 
them was more highly esteemed, lie was truly beloved. 

It was most easy to follow him as he lectured. A 
second or third rate reporter could have taken down 


almost every word, whether he was reading or extem- 
porizing. I took myself extended notes <>f his lectures. 
And as I vesterdav looked over some eighty or a hundred 
pages, 1 was surprised on being reminded of the great 
amount of labor which he accomplished, and the range of 
topics which he illustrated, or alluded to, as worthy of 
remembrance or research. 

The tirst time 1 saw Mr. Everett, was in the latter part 
of my freshman year, — the summer of IMS), — and when 
he had just returned from Europe. His appearance then, 
when but twenty-five years of age, was not in the full and 
somewhat, portly, bodily form which we have seen in his 
later years. His countenance was that of a hard student, 
and his bearing was by no means that of a man who gave 
promise of the length of days which he has been permitted 
to enjoy. It was a slender and diminutive figure, even, 
which he presented, when he walked from University 
Hall across the College yard, as 1 have seen him, — lean- 
ing upon the arm of his younger brother John, who. as he 
imw comes before my memory in his stalwart form, " from 
his shoulders and upward was higher." Some have 
thought, that in native intellectual endowment, that 
brother, who went down to an early grave, had as much 
superiority, as he had in bodily presence, over the 
lamented man whose death we are now called to mourn. 

From the reputation which preceded Mr. Everett's com- 
ing to enter upon his duties as Professor, the students 
had high expectations. The first displays which he made 
before us. were from the pulpit. But although he drew 
large audiences, and was highly extolled and glorified by 


many, I do not think that he made any great impres- 
sion upon the under-graduates. The pulpit was nol his 
appropriate place. I heartily rejoiced when he withdrew 
from it, and gave himself so devotedly to the instruc- 
tion of the College classes; ami afterwards to the instruc- 
tion of the country and of the world. 

Soon after his return from Europe, he was editor of the 
North American Review, which he renewed, bj giving it a 
character and reputation such as it never had before. The 
students were much interested in the articles which he 
wrote for it, and which they thought could be easily iden- 
tified. The style of those articles had a great effect, in 
stimulating them to cultivate a high order of literary com- 
position. We were specially interested in the articles, 
which vindicated our institutions and character against the 
mendacious reports of British travellers in America, and 
the savage assaults cif the Edinburgh and London Quar- 
terly [Reviews. At this time there was much written in 
the spirit of Sydney Smith's sneering interrogatory. — 
" Who reads an American book?" 

In refuting the statements and repelling the assaults of 
British travellers and reviewers. Mr. Everett came forth 
with a manliness which he had not before displayed. His 
compositions had often seemed to belong rather to the fem- 
inine than to the masculine gender. While he showed that 
lie had the same delicacy of taste and kindliness of tem- 
per, which had been so admirably exhibited by Washing- 
ton Irving, in the essays of the Sketch Book, which 
portrayed and defended our national character. — he also 


showed a vigor and masterly strength, which, perhaps, 
he owed in part at least, to his intimacy with Webster, 
whom he so greatly admired, and with whom he so in- 
tensely sympathized. In those vindications of our country 
which appeared in the North American, from the pen of 
Mr. Everett, von may see the germs or the elements of the 
same patriotism which has so nobly distinguished the 
efforts of these last years of his life. 

He could sav very hard things in very mild words. 
He could take a man's head off. by a feather, as well 
as bv any more potent instrument. An example of his 
manner now occurs to me. He was commenting upon 
some flagrant statements. "This," said he, ■• is a spe- 
cies of fiction in which geutlemen of veracity are nol 
accustomed to indulge." 

One or two articles he wrote on the Missouri ques- 
tion, witli signal ability. One of these, I think was in 
the early part of 1820, when he reviewed the history 
of slavery in our country, — referring to the principles and 
sentiments of the founders of the republic, and earnestly 
imploring, that the area of the •■ peculiar institution" 
should he no farther extended. These views he seems 
to have modified, after he became a member of Con- 
gress; perhaps more seemingly, than in reality, yet afford 
ing too much occasion for the terrible rebuke of John 
Randolph, who. as some will remember, gave him to 
understand, that slave-holder as he was himself, he had 

little respect for the heart or the head of any man, from 


tin' North, who would stand up there to apologize for 
Southern slavery. 

In \iiLpist, 1824, .Mr. Everett delivered an oration 
before the Phi Beta Kappa Society, which was received 
with the highesl applause. General Lafayette had just 
arrived, on a visit to the United State-, and hi- coming 
stirred up and called forth all the patriotic feeling, 
which could lie moved by the remembrances and asso- 
ciations of the revolutionary war. I Lis presence in the 
assembly at Cambridge added greatly to the interest ol 
that 27th day of August, — a day most memorable in 
Mr. Everett's public life. 

The subject of the oration, as then stated by the 
orator, was " The peculiar motives to intellectual exertion 
in America.'' In a revised edition of Mr. Everett's works, 
the oration appears under the title of •■ Circumstances favor- 
able to the progress of literature in the United States." In 
the treatment of this subject, he displayed a wealth of 
learning and a wealth of language, which perfectly amazed 
his auditory, and far exceeded all the most sanguine expec- 
tations of his greatest admirers. It would be utterly impos- 
sible to describe the effect produced as with his graphic and 
thrilling power, as from an inspiration he depicted. " the 
theatre upon which the intellect of America was to ap- 
pear;" "the motives to its exertion;'" "the mass to he 
influenced by its efforts;" " the crowd to witness its ener- 
gies;" and "the glory to crown its success." And when in 
his peroration he addressed Lafayette, the enthusiasm of 
admiration knew no bounds. The closing words of ■' wcl- 

i\ 1 HE M \s> VCIIUSETTS f.KGISLA'J URE l()"i 

come" •■ \\ i," weir received with a kind of rapture and 
the wildesl excitement, that ran well be imagined. Never 
before, and I believe, never since, was such a scene 
witnessed at Cambridge. And I much incline to the 
opinion, that tor all in all, considering the occasion and 
the circumstances, not one of all Mr. Everett's greatest 
efforts, throughout his whole subsequent career, has sur- 
passed that memorable Phi Beta oration of August 27, 

In the autumn of this year. 1 824, the young men of 
Middlesex nominated Mr. Everett for the House of Rep- 
resentatives in Congress. The course which he pursued 
in his ten years as Representative in Washington, — his 
services in Europe. — his administration as Governor of 
our State, — his presidency at Cambridge, — and even 
the wonderful efforts of the last glorious period of his 
life, — it is not now the time, nor is this the place, to 
review and describe. But whatever may have been 
thought of him. at certain times, in respect to his politi- 
cal action, — I believe that no man could ever say with 
greater sincerity and propriety, that "through good report 
and through evil report, he had truly loved his whole 
( Ymntry." 

The bereavement which we mourn, is a bereavement 
of all the loyal people in our land. We are all mourn- 
ers to-day, as if the affliction were in our own family 
circle. Although the beloved man had lived so long, 
and had accomplished so much by his integrity and learn- 
ing, his patriotism and philanthropy, — and although 


" gathered to his fathers," " as a shock of corn cometh 
in his season," his death appears to ns untimely. Our duty . 
is to how with entire submission to God's Sovereign will. 
•• Even so. Father, for so it seemeth d in thy sight." 

Little did we think, when we so lately saw him, that 
he was so soon t-d'fall asleep. But if it had been known, 
that his davs were so near the end. and there had been the 
opportunity. — I think that 1 should have ventured to 
congratulate him, that God had spared him so long; 
and that for himself, tor our land, and for the world, he 
was not taken from us tour years since. 

Grateful should we he that he so early gave himself 
to the pure, the beautiful, and the just. As we gather 
him to his burial, let us all he admonished of our personal 
duty to our Country and to God. I would that I could 
speak to all the young men of the land. I would exhort 
them to study those volumes which are the memorial 
of his erudition, his eloquence, and his beneficence. 

We cannot doubt what he would say to them, and to 
all of us. And here comes to my mind, at this moment, 
the words which he uttered when approaching the end 
of that ora'ion on the 27th of August, 1824. — "If I 
err in this happy vision of my Country's fortunes. I 
thank God for an error so animating. If this be false, 
may I never know the truth. Never may yon, my friends, 
he under any other feeling than that a great and growing, 
an immeasurably expanding country is calling upon you 
for your best services. 

Mr. President, there is a spot in front of this edifice, — 


on tho other side of that which is occupied by the statue 
of the great defender of the Constitution. Whose statue 
shall have that vacant place! Whose can occupy it so 
worthily as that of him whose sudden departure we all 
so deeply deplore? But however it may be, it is our 
■■ jo\ of grief," that his monument is everywhere in the 
land ; his renown is iu all lands; and for ages to come, 
his Country " redeemed, regenerated, disenthralled," shall 
cherish among her choicest treasures, the transcendent 
name of Edward Everett. 

Mr. Chadbourne of Berkshire said: — 

Mr. President: It is eminently proper that we should 
turn aside from the ordinary duties of this chamber to 
pay our brief tribute of respect to the memory of a 
great man. Edward Everett was a great man among 
great men. It was his lot, sir, to live and walk with 
a race of intellectual giants. And if we consider the 
rare combination of native power with vast acquirements, 
he was hardly surpassed by any man of his time. He 
was a scholar, an orator, a statesman, and a patriot. 
How perfect and beautiful was his life, how transcen- 
dently beautiful its close! No broken shaft can be its 
symbol. It was like the lofty marble column, without 
spot or blemish, its flirtings perfect, its capital entire. 

I shall ever consider it among the fortunate events in 
my life, sir, that I heard his last words in Eaneuil Hall. 
There his great heart gushed forth, breaking down the 

forms of elaborate and studied oratory so commonly at- 



1 10 MEMORIAL OF l.l'W \l;l> EVKR1 I I 

tvibuted to him. "With what loving enthusiasm was he 
crrot'ted l>\ the hundreds who had so often hung upon 
his lips. And how did his words give us courage for 
the conflict and charity towards the returning prod- 
igals. He did not live to see the Union restored, but, 
as has been well said, he saw it by the eye of faith. 
Those who heard his last speech will never forget his 
eloquent words respecting the people of Savannah. 
"They do not know as we do," said he, "that the 
Savannah River shall sooner reverse its course and roll 
its hood of waters back to the mountains than the stars 
and stripes be again replaced by the flag of the Rebel- 
lion." His eloquent words remain, but his eloquent lips 
are closed forever in death. He has completed his 
warfare. We may place his statue in the vacant place 
in front of the capitol, but his spear leans against the 
wall, and who is there left, mighty enough to wield it? 

But how little, sir. of such a man can die! Hi- death 
seems to me like one of those splendid summer nights 
in the far north, where the sun indeed sinks beneath 
the horizon, but where his midnight light curtains the 
heavens with purple and gold, more gorgeous and beau- 
tiful than his noonday glory. 

His name will live forever. Henceforth, they who 
make pilgrimages to Mount Vernon will couple the 
name of Everett with the name of Washington. He 
will be remembered as the proud product of republican 
institutions, as the orator who launched his thunders 
against the Catilines of our day. and as the patriot who 


ever preferred his country to party, and never despaired 
of the i 

The resolutions were adopted. 

Senators Wentworth of Middlesex, Loud of Plymouth, Codnian 
of Suffolk, Parker of Suffolk, Stoddard of Worcester, Frost of 
Norfolk, Foster of Essex, Kuril of Hampden, Ide of Bristol, and 
Parsons or' Franklin were appointed a Committee on the part of 
the Senate to attend the funeral. 



\ communication was received from His Excellency, the Gov- 
ernor, stating that the Executive Department would unite with 
the General Court in any demonstration of respect to the mem- 
ory of Mr. Everett, which they might adopt. 

The resolutions of the joint special Committee, in relation to 
Mr. Everett, were received from the Senate, and read by the 

Mr. Wells of Chicopee said : — 

Mr. Speaker: The brief time that remains before we 
are to proceed to join in the funeral ceremonies, as 
well as the fact that our action contemplates a formal 
eulogy at some future day, forbids that I should enter 
upon any extended discussion of the life or character of 
Mr. Everett. Were it otherwise, I should not venture, 
witli my limited power-, and limited knowledge of the 
subject, to iindei'tak- its delineation. But I am sure it 
would not comport with the feelings of this house, — 


it would not comport with the propriety of the occasion, 
that the Resolves should pass to their adoption by a 
mere formal vote. There is one consideration in the 
life of Mr. Everett, which seems especially to force 
itself upon our attention. Although for so main years 
in public life; — elected to Congress forty years ago; — 
having filled tin- office of Governor of tins Common- 
wealth more than a quarter of a century since; — ap- 
pointed in 1841 as our Minister to the Court of St. 
James; — in 1852 succeeding Mr. AVebster as Secretary 
of State of the United States; — and having filled all these 
and other prominent positions of public trust with dis- 
tinguished ability, and honor to himself as well as to 
the country ; — he has nevertheless rounded out his life, 
and placed upon its record an enduring crown of sur- 
passing excellence, by the display of that patriotism, 
and the performance of those duties to the country, 
which come within the province of the private citizen, 
it and honored as he was among men when exer- 
cising the influence which attends the possession of high 
official position, he was greater, more honored, more 
powerful in the influence he was able to exert for the 
good of his country, in his last capacity as a private 

lie thus nobly illustrated the true spirit of the insti- 
tutions of our country ; — where the private citizen is 
the real potentate, — above all office, and not dependent 
upon it for the possession of his true dignity and influ- 
ence. In the death of Mr. Everett the countrv has 


indeed suffered a great loss. And yet his life is not 
lost to the nation. It is fortunate for us. — fortunate 
in view of that immortality which is said to be possi- 
ble to a nation, that its great men do not die. It is 
not in the power of death to tear away the life of such 
men from the life of the Nation. Their acts, their 
example, their written and spoken words, their inrlu- 
ence upon the passing events of their time, — all that 
which is the expression of their lives is wrought 
into the public life, — woven as it were into the web 
of the history of the country. And although they may 
be withdrawn from our mortal vision, all that which 
was great in them, all which connects itself with the 
public life, remains forever. Passing time will remove 
whatever of cloud may be thrown upon the character 
by the prejudice or passion of to-day. and as we look 
back from some future period, we shall recognize, more 
fully, all that is ^reat and good in such a life, and 
cherish it as a part of the national life and history. 

Mr. Scudder of Dorchester said that this was not the time 
for an extended eulogy ; the subject did not demand, nor the 
occasion require it. The very air was full of the praises of the 
illustrious dead, mingled with sighs and lamentation at his loss. 
lh- felt justified in saying, that within the last half century no 
man had walked among us who had so completely the char- 
acteristics of a truly great man, or whose life and character 
would so adorn the pages of our history. More than sixty 
years of the threescore and ten of his life are a history famil- 
iar to us all. The fame of his extraordinary promise as a boy 
>till lingered in his native town of Dorchester, — a promise so 



wonderfully fulfilled in liis alter career as preacher, professor, sen- 
ator, diplomate, governor, college president, and cabinet minister. 
Certainly Edward Everett embodied in himself all the virtues and 
excellences which are the components of greatness. 

The resolutions were unanimously adopted, the members of 
the House rising in their places. 

The following gentlemen were appointed by the Speaker on 
the Committee of the House to attend Mr. Everett's funeral: — 

Messrs. Kimball of Boston, Scudder of Dorchester, Stone of 
Charlestown, Hills of Boston, Stone of Waltham, Gallup of 
Brookfield, Dudley of Hanover, Warren of Windsor, Hall of 
Dennis, Holden of Salem, Bartlett of Greenfield, Lovering of 
Taunton, Shortle t>( Provincetown, Osborne of Edgartown, 
Mitchell of Nantucket, Stone of Lowell, Winchester of Spring- 
field, Mudge of Petersham, Stevens of Newburyport, and Dudley 
of Northampton. 




A special meeting of the Government of the Board of Trade was 
held on Tuesday, January 17, at noon, to consider what meas- 
ures should be adopted in relation to the deatli of Mr. Everett. 
The meeting was called to order by the President, Hon. George 
C. Richardson, who briefly stated its objects. Edward S. Tobey, 
E<i[. then addressed the meeting as follows: — 

Mr. President and Gentlemen of the Board of 
Trade : It is but recently that this Board has had occa- 
sion to perform the solemn office of a public expression 
of its sense of the personal worth and eminent character 
of a distinguished American merchant, whose death de- 
prived the commercial world of one of its most promi- 
nent and honored representatives. "We are now sum- 
moned to this place, to bear our highest tribute of re- 
spect for the character and worth of our preeminent and 
revered fellow-countryman, Edward Everett, whose sud- 
den departure has thrown the pall of sadness over our 

Although not directly connected with the commercial 
history of this community, Mr. Everett has, in former 


years, as the able minister of the United States in Great 
Britain, rendered signal service to the commerce of this 
country, especialh in giving his valuable influence in the 
adjustment of questions in controversy as to the rights oi 
American Fishermen. 

At an earlier date, his series of letters on the subject 
of mil' Colonial trade, doubtless had no inconsiderable influ- 
ence in forming an intelligent public opinion on the com- 
mercial questions involved. Notwithstanding the grave 
and protracted controversy in reference to the Northeast- 
ern boundary, the Oregon question, and other kindred 
topics, which at one time threatened the peace of this 
country and of England was ultimately transferred to 
Washington, through the arrangement of a special am- 
bassador from England, it is not doubted that Mr. 
Everett's previous discussions of those questions with 
the British Government largely contributed to prepare 
the way for the amicable settlement, which was finally 
attained by the commissioners of both governments. 

1 lis appointment by the government in 1S43, on a 
mission to China, witli a view to establish improved 
commercial relations with that country (an appointment 
which he felt constrained to decline), shows the estima- 
tion in which his ability on commercial questions was 

But. Mr. President, it is not by reason of any relations 
to the commerce of the country which Mr. Everett sus- 
tained, that we are now convened to do appropriate honor 
to his memory. Our country mourns the loss of one of 
her ablest and most devoted statesmen ; and one of Mas- 


sachusetts' gifted sons, one of the great constellation of 
brilliant statesmen, whose lives during the last half cen- 
tury have adorned and illuminated the pages of our 
country's history, has been withdrawn from these earthly 

This is. therefore, no ordinary occasion. Generally we 
may well be guarded against the use of words of fulsome 
eulogy, which too indiscriminately uttered, may alike do 
injury to the living and injustice to the dead. 

But when one of such rare combination of virtues and 
excellences of character as was possessed by Mr. Everett 
passes from earth, we may safely commend his exem- 
plary public and private life to the emulation of his fellow- 
citizens in no measured terms. 

I, therefore, Mr. President, regard it both an honor 
and a privilege, cordially to mute with this Board in the 
present appropriate demonstrations of respect for the 
character of our deceased fellow-citizen. 

Long will the times (if his matchless eloquence be 
treasured in memory, as with all the fervor of a pure, 
devoted patriotism he sought to rally the people to the 
standard of his country, and in support of its lawfully 
constituted government in its struggle with treason ; or 
in his last pathetic appeal to the sympathies of our citi- 
zens in behalf of the suffering poor in Savannah. 

But, Mr. President, I do not feel at liberty to indulge 
the promptings of my own heart in more extended re- 
marks, aware, as I am, that there are others present 
who, I am sure, desire to give expression to their 
hearty approval of these proceedings. I have the 


honor to submit the following resolutions for your 
consideration : — 

Resolved. That this Board would reverently acknowl- 
edge the hand of Divine Providence in the sudden de- 
parture from this life of our deeply lamented fellow- 
citizen, Edward Everett, whose varied public services and 
high attainments have been so preeminent as to make his 
character the common property of the American people. 

Resolved. That in common with our fellow-countrymen, 
we share in the general sorrow which now oppresses the 
heart of this nation, for the irreparable loss of one whose 
life has adorned the brightest page of its history, and 
whose death has deprived the country of the wise counsel 
and influence of one of her noblest sons. 

Resolved. That, while this Board cannot be unmindful 
of the eminent services rendered by Mr. Everett as the 
representative of his country at the Court of St. James, in 
his participation in the adjustment of international ques- 
tions of great importance to the commercial interests of 
the United States, we regard it as a special privilege, not 
less than a solemn and sacred duty, on this sad occasion, 
to express our appreciation of his patriotism, his exalted 
and comprehensive statesmanship, and his moral worth, 
which, with his unsurpassed eloquence, have added lustre 
to the American name and character throughout the 
world, and will enshrine his memory in the hearts of a 
grateful nation. 

Resolved. That we offer to his afflicted relatives and 
friends our sympathy in their bereavement, which has 
suddenly deprived them of the society of one whose atfec- 

t'lli ii EKDINGS 01 1'IIE BOARD OF I UADE. 1 21 

tionate intercourse and genial friendship they have been 
permitted so long to enjoy. 

The resolutions were seconded by James M. Beebe, Esq., in the 
following remarks : — 

Mr. President: In rising to second the resolutions sub- 
mitted, I shall but give utterance to feelings which iill 
the hearts of all present. 

It lias not been customary for this Association, a bod) 
so largely composed of merchants and business men. to 
publicly recognize the departure of those, however emi- 
nent or worthy, whose career and pursuits in life have 
been in a different sphere ; but in the sad event which 
lias called us together to-day, no precedent is needed for 
our guidance and action. 

An occasion so fitting and proper for the full and ear- 
nest expression of the feelings of this Board, has perhaps 
never before occurred since our organization; and we hut 
honor ourselves in paying the highest tributes to the ex- 
alted worth and pre-eminent talents of our fellow-citizen, 
whose sudden departure from us has caused universal 

Mr. Everett will be sadly missed in our own commu- 
nity, and the place vacated by his death cannot easily be 
tilled. Always accessible, and ever ready on all proper 
occasions claiming his aid and co-operation, to render 
cheerful service in the furtherance of every good cause, 
the inexhaustible resources of his well-stored mind, and 
his unsurpassed eloquence were constantly sought. 

His enlightened and comprehensive patriotism, his 


noble and untiring efforts in behalf of Ins country and 
her imperilled institutions, so dear to him, have enshrined 
his memory in the heart of the nation, which will never 
forget the debt of gratitude it owes. 

Little more can be expected, in our meeting today, 
than a brief recurrence to the excellence of character 
and efficient services of the departed. A bright example 
is afforded by his life, to stimulate and encourage zeal and 
fidelity in every good work. 

Robert 1>. Forbes, Ks<j., then .-poke as follows: — 

Mi;. President and Gentlemen: In offering my cordial 
support to the resolutions, my first sensation is one of 
regret that I cannot be endowed with a portion of the 
eloquence due to the occasion. If the feelings of mj 
heart could be uttered by my lips. I might do justice to 
the subject. 

My relations with Mr. Everett, though never very inti- 
mate, have been of the most friendly character and long 
standing. To no individual in this community have I 
been accustomed to look up with more reverence, both 
on account of his public works and his private character. 
While we sincerely mourn his departure, we cannot but 
rejoice that he was spared so long, and that he has gone 
to meet his reward, unimpaired by lingering illness, and 
in the fulness of his glorious career. 

\\ ho is there in this community or in the whole- coun- 
try, who has not been inspired to deeds of patriotism 
or charity by his brilliant example and unsurpassed elo- 
quence. — who that could withstand hi- convincing argu- 


merits, or fail to applaud the grace of his unequalled 
style? None, sir. lnit those who have no minds to under- 
stand or no hearts to feel his power. 

There are hut two things to regret in Mr. Everett's 
death : first, that we have no one to till his place, and 
next, that he could not have been spared long enough to 
see — what he has done so much to bring about — the 
restoration of our glorious Union. No man living lias 
done more towards this end than Edward Everett; and 
few men. since the immortal Washington, whose lives 
and writings will do more, in the future, to preserve its 
integrity when that happy day shall come. 

Mr. President. I heartily concur in the language and 
in the spirit of the resolutions, and in all that has been 
said by the gentleman who has seconded them. 

Hon. Joseph M. Wightman also addressed the Board upon the 
adoption of the resolutions, as follows : — 

Mr. President: I desire to mingle my feelings of deep 
sympathy with the Board on this occasion, and to express 
my hearty concurrence in the resolutions, and the appro- 
priate remarks which have been made in reference to the 
death of Mr. Everett. 

In the various public positions with which 1 have been 
honored by my fellow-citizens, 1 have been brought into 
frecpient intimate relations with Mr. Everett, and my con- 
nection, both private and official, with him, has always 
been characterized by a gentle courtesy, a kindly interest. 
and a cordial co-operation, that has entitled him to my 
warmest feelings of gratitude while living, and to my 


heartfelt sorrow and regret at his loss. But although the 
eloquent voice is hushed forever, and the trusty counsellor 
and friend lias departed, we feel assured that he has only 
left us to repose in peace and happiness in the bosom of 

his God. 

The resolutions were unanimously adopted. 

On motion of Mr. Wightman, it was voted that the resolutions 
and the action of the Board in relation thereto he communicated 
to the family of the deceased. 

Lorenzo Sabine, Secretary of the Board, offered a resolution 
that the rooms <>t' the Board bedraped in mourning for thirty days. 

In moving its adoption, Mr. Sabine said that he, probably, was 
the only person now living who could do Mr. Everett tall justice 
in a single particular, namely, while the departed statesman was 
negotiating the Reciprocity Treaty, as Secretary of State ; and that, 
retraining <>n the present occasion, he should state the tacts within 
his personal knowledge, at another time and in another wav. 

The resolution was adopted with an amendment recommending 
a similar demonstration in the public room of the Merchants' Ex- 

The meeting then adjourned. 




A Special Meeting of the Massachusetts Historical Society was 

held in the Dowse Library on Monday evening, Jan. 30, to c - 

meinorate their late illustrious associate, Edward Everett. The 
attendance w as very large. 

The meeting was called to order at 7 J o'clock by the President, 
the Hon. Robert C. Winthrop, who spoke as follows: — 

Gentlemen of the Massachusetts Historical Society: 

The occasion of this meeting is but too well known to 
you all. None of us were strangers to the grief which 
pervaded this community on the recent announcement of 
the death of Edward Everett. Not a few of us have had 
the privilege of uniting with the public authorities, who 
hastened to assume the whole charge of his funeral, in 
paying the last tribute to his honored remains. And 
more than one of us have already had an opportunit) of 
giving some feeble expression to our sense of the loss 
which has been sustained by our city, our Common- 
wealth, and our whole country. 

But we are here this evening to take up the theme 
again somewhat more deliberatelv, as a Societv of which 


he was so long one of the most valuable, as well as one 
of the most distinguished members. We are here not 
merely to unite in lamenting the close of a career which 
lias been crowded with so many good words mid good 
works for the community and the country at large, hut 
to give utterance to our own particular sorrow for the 
breach which has been made in our own cherished circle. 

Mr. Everett was elected a member of this Society on 
the 27th of April. 1820, when he was but twenty-six 
years of age; and, at the time of his death, his name 
stood second in order of seniority on the roll of our 
resident members. I need not attempt to say to you how 
much we have prized his companionship, how often we 
have profited of his counsels, or how deeply we have been 
indebted to him for substantial services which no one 
else could have rendered so well. 

Ilis earliest considerable effort in our behalf was a lec- 
ture delivered before us on the 31st of October, is:;:]. It 
was entitled " Anecdotes of Early Local History," and will 
be found in the second volume of his collected works. — 
now lying upon our table. — with an extended note or 
appendix containing many interesting details concerning 
the Society, its objects and its members. But it is only 
within the last nine or ten years, and since his public life — 
si) fir as office is necessary to constitute public life — was 
brought to a close, that he has been in the way of taking 
an active part in our proceedings. Xo one can enter the 
room in which we are gathered without remembering how 
frequently, during that period, his voice has been heard 
among us in rendering such honors to others, as now. 


alas, we are so unexpei tedh called to paj to himself. No 
one can forget hi- admirable tributes to the beloved Pres- 
cott, to the excellent Nathan Hale, to the venei 
Quincy, among our immediate associates; — to Daniel J). 
Barnard of Albany and Henry 1). Gilpin of Philadelphia, 
to Washington Irving, to Hallam. to Humboldt, to Mac- 
aulay, among our domestic and foreign honorary members. 
Still les-, will any one be likely to forget the noble 
eulogv which he pronounced, at our request, on the 9th 
of December, 1858, upon that remarkable self-made man 
whom we have ever delighted to honor as our largest 
benefactor, and in whose pictured presence we are at this 
moment assembled. Often as 1 have listened to our la- 
mented friend, since the year 1824, — when I followed 
him with at least one other whom I see before me to 
Plymouth Rock, and heard his splendid discourse on the 
Pilgrim Fathers. — I can hardly recall anything of his, 
more striking of its kind, or more characteristic of its 
author, than that elaborate delineation of the lite of 
Thomas Dowse. No one. certainly, who was present on 
the occasion, can fail to recall the exhibition which he 
gave us, in its delivery, of the grasp and precision of his 
wonderful memory, — when in describing the collection 
of water colors, now in the Athemeum gallery, which was 
the earliest of Mr. Dowse's possessions, he repeated, 
without faltering, the unfamiliar names of more than 
thirty of the old masters from whose works they were 
copied, and then turning at once to the description of 
the library itself, as we see it now around us. proceeded 
to recite the names of fifty-three of the ancient authors 



of Greek and Roman literature, of nineteen of the modern 
German, of fourteen of the Italian, of forty-seven of the 
French, of sixteen or seventeen of the Portuguese and 
Spanish, making up in all an aggregate of more than one 
hundred and eighty names of artists and authors, many of 
them as hard to pronounce as they were difficult to be 
remembered, but which he rehearsed, without the aid of 
a note and without the hesitation of an instant, with as 
much ease and fluency as he doubtless had rolled off 
the famous catalogue of the ships, in the second book of 
Homer's Iliad, with the text-book in his hand, as a col- 
lege student or as Greek professor, half a century before! 

I need hardly add that with this library, now our most 
valued treasure, the name of Mr. Everett will henceforth 
be haidlv less identified than that of Mr Dowse himself. 
Indeed, he had been associated with it long before it was 
so munificently transferred to us. By placing yonder por- 
trait of him, taken in his earliest manhood, upon the 
walls of the humble apartment in which the books were 
originally collected. — the only portrait ever admitted to 
their companionship. — our worthy benefactor seems him- 
self to have designated Edward Everett as the presiding 
genius or patron saint of this library; and as such he will 
be enshrined by us. and by all who shall succeed us, as 
loii^- as the precious books and the not less precious can- 
vas shall escape the ravages of time. 

I may not omit to remind you that our lamented friend 
— who was rarely without some labor of love for others 
in prospect — had at least two matters in hand for us 
at tin 1 time of his death, which lie was hoping, and which 


we all wen.' hoping, that he would soon be able to com- 
plete. One of them was a memoir of that noble patriot 
nt' Smith Carolina, James Louis Pctigru, whose lifelong 
devotion to the cause of the American Union, alike in the 
(lavs of nullification and of secession, will secure him the 
o-rateful remembrance of all to whom that Union is dear. 
The other was a volume of Washington's private letters, 
which he was preparing to publish in our current series 
of historical collections. It is hardly a month since he 
told me that the letters were all copied, and that he was 
sorrv to be obliged to postpone the printing of them a 
little longer, in order to find time for the annotations 
with which he desired to accompany them. 

But you do not require to be told, gentlemen, that what 
Mr. Everett has dune, or has proposed to do. specifically 
for our own Society, would constitute a very small part of 
all that he has accomplished in that cause of American 
history in which we are associated. It is true that he 
has composed no independent historical work, nor ever 
published any volume of biography more considerable 
than the excellent memoir of Washington, which he pre- 
pared, at the suggestion of his friend Lord XEacaulay, 
for the new edition of the Encyclopedia Britannica. But 
there is no great epoch, — there is hardly a single great 
event, — of our national or of our colonial history, which 
he has not carefully depicted and brilliantly illustrated 
in his occasional discourses. I have sometimes thought 
that no more attractive or more instructive historj nt our 
country could be presented to the youth of our land, than 
is found in the series of anniversary orations which he 


has delivered during the last forty years. Collect those 
orations into a volume by themselves; arrange them in 
tluir historical order: "The First Settlement of New 
England," "The Settlement of Massachusetts," "The 
Battle of Bloody Brook in King Philip's War," "The 
Seven Years' War, the School of the Revolution," "The 
First Battles of the Revolutionary War," "The Bat- 
tle of Lexington," "The Battle of Bunker Hill," 
"Dorchester in 1630, 117(1, and 1855;" combine with 
them those " Anecdotes of Early Local History," which 
he prepared for our own Society, and add to them his 
charming discourses on "The Youth of Washington," and 
••The Character of Washington," on "The Boyhood and 
the Early Days of Franklin," and his memorable eulogies 
on Adams and Jefferson, on Lafayette, on John Quincy 
Adams and on Daniel Webster, and I know not in what 
other volume the young men, or even the old men, of 
our land could rind the history of the glorious past more 
accurately or more admirably portrayed. 1 know not 
where they could find the toils and trials and struggles 
of our colonial or revolutionary fathers set forth with 
greater fulness of detail or greater felicity of illustration. 
As one reads those orations and discourses at this mo- 
ment, they might almost be regarded as successive chap- 
ters of a continuous and comprehensive work which had 
been composed and recited on our great national anni- 
versaries, just as the chapters of Herodotus are said to 
have been recited at the Olympic festivals of ancient 
( Jreece. 

I ndoubtedlv, however, it is rather as an actor and an 


orator in sonic of the later scenes of our country's 
history, than as an author, that Mr. Everett ^vill he 
longest remembered. Indeed, since he first entered on 
the stage of mature life, there has hardly been a scene 
of any sort in that great historic' drama, which of late, 
alas, has assumed the most terrible form of tragedy, in 
which he has not been called to play a more or less 
conspicuous part; and we all know how perfectly every 
part which lias been assigned him has been performed. 
If we follow him from the hour when he left the 
University of Cambridge, with the highest academic 
honors, at an age when so many others are hardly pre- 
pared to enter there, down to the fatal day when he 
uttered those last impressive words at Faneuil Hall, we 
shall find him everywhere occupied with the highest 
duties, and everywhere discharging those duties with 
consummate ability and unwearied devotion. Varied and 
brilliant accomplishments, laborious research, copious 
diction, marvellous memory, magnificent rhetoric, a gra- 
cious presence, a glorious voice, an ardent patriotism 
controlling his public career, an unsullied purity crown- 
ing his private life, — what element was there wanting 
in him for the complete embodiment of the classic orator, 
as Cato and Quinctilian so tersely and yet so compre- 
hensively defined him eighteen hundred years ago — 
•■ Vir bonus, dicendi /in it/is '. " 

But I may not occupy more of your time in these 
introductory remarks, intended only to exhibit our de- 
parted friend in his relations to our own Society, and to 
open the wa\ lor those who are prepared to do better 


justice to his general career and character. Let me 
only add that our standing committee have requested our 
associates, Mr. Millard and Dr. Lothrop, to prepare some 
appropriate resolutions for the occasion, and that the 
Societv i-- new read\ to receive them. 

Mr. Hillard then proceeded as follows : — 

The Psalmist says. " The days of our years are three- 
score vears and ten, and if by reason of strength they be 
fourscore years, yet is their strength, labor and sorrow." 
The latter part of this sentence is not altogether true; at 
least, it is not without exceptions as numerous as the 
rule. To say nothing of the living, we who have wit- 
nessed the serene and beautiful old age of Quincy, pro- 
tracted more than twenty years after threescore years and 
ten, will not admit that all of life beyond that limit is of 
necessity " labor and sorrow." But in these words there 
is much of truth as this, that he who has lived to be 
threescore and ten years old should feel that he has had 
his fair share of life, and if any more years are dropped 
into his lap he must receive them as a gift not promised 
at his birth. And thus no man who dies after the age of 
seventy can be said to have died unseasonably or prema- 
turely. But the shock with which the news of Mr. 
Everett's death tell upon the community was due to its 
unexpectedness as well as its suddenness. \\ e knew 
that he was an old man. hut we did not feel that he was 
smb. There was nothing either in his aspect or his life 
that warned us of departure or reminded us ot decay. 
His [lowers were so vigorous, his industry w as s " great, 


his sympathies were so active, his eloquence was so rich 
and glowing, his elocution still so admirable, that he ap- 
peared before us as a man in the very prime of life, and 
when he died it was as if the sun had gone down at noon. 
The impression made bj his death was the highest trib- 
ute that could be paid to the worth of his life. 

In 1819, after an absence of nearly five years, Mr. 
Everett returned from Europe at the age of twenty-five, 
the most finished and accomplished man that had been 
seen in New England, and it will be generally admitted 
that he maintained this superiority to the last. From 
that year down to the hour of his death he was constantly 
!n tore the public eye. and never without a marked and 
peculiar influence upon the community, especially upon 
students and scholars. Yon and I. Mr. President, are old 
enough to have come under the spell of the magician at 
that early period of his lite, when he presented the most 
attractive combination of graceful and blooming youth 
with mature intellectual power. The young man of to- 
day, familiar with that expression of gravity, almost of 
sadness, which his countenance has habitually worn of 
late, can hardly imagine what he then was, when his 
"bosom's lord •sat light upon his throne." when the winds 
ot hope rilled his sails, and his looks and movements were 
informed with a spirit of morning freshness ami vernal 

In the forty-five years which passed between his return 
home and his death. Mr. Everett's industry was untiring, 
and the amount of work he accomplished was immense. 
AN hat he published would alone entitle him to the praise 


of a very industrious man, but this tonus but a part of 
his labors. Of what has been called the master-vici 
sloth he knew nothing. He was independent of the 
amusements and relaxations which most hard-working 
men interpose between their hours of* toil. He was 
alw ays irr harness. 

Some persons have regretted that he gave so much time 
to merely occasional productions, instead of devoting him- 
self to some one great work ; but without speculating 
upon the comparative value of what we have and what we 
might have had. it is enough to saj that with his genius 
and temperament on the one hand, and our institutions and 
form of society on the other, it was a sort of necessity 
that his mind should have taken the direction that it did. 
For he was the child of his time, and was always in har- 
mony with the spirit of the age and country in which his 
lot was cast. He was pre-eminently rich in the fruits of 
European culture; Greece, home. England, France, Italv, 
and Germany, all helped by liberal contributions to swell 
his stores of intellectual wealth, but yet no man was ever 
more national in feeling, more patriotic in motive and im- 
pulse, more thoroughly American in grain and fibre. 
Loving books as he did, he would yet have pined and 
languished if he had been doomed to live in the unsym- 
pathetic air of a great library. The presence, the com 
prehension, the sympathy of his kind were as necessary 
to him as his daily bread. 

■■Two words." says Macaulay, •■form the key of the 
Baconian doctrine, Utility and Progress." I think these 
two words also go far to reveal and interpret Mr. 



Kverett's motives and character. Not that he did not 
seek honorable distinction, not that he did not take 
pleasure in the applause which he had fairly earned ; 
but stronger even than these propelling impulses was 
his desire to be of service to his fellowmen, to do good 
in his day and generation. lie loved his country with 
a fervid love, and he loved his race with n generous 
and comprehensive philanthropy, lie was always ready 
to work cheerfully in any direction when he thought 
he could do am good, though the labor might not be 
particularly congenial to his tastes, and would not add 

vthing to his literary reputation. The themes which 
handled, during his long life of intellectual action, 
were very various, they were treated with great afflu- 
ence of learning, singular beauty of illustration, and 
elaborate and exquisite harmony of style, but always in 
such a way as to hear practical fruit, and contribute 
to the advancement of society and the elevation of 

So. too, Mr. Everett was a sincere and consistent 
friend of progress, lie was, it is true, conservative in 
his instincts and convictions; 1 mean in a large and 
liberal, and not in a narrow and technical sense. But 
that he was an extreme conservative, or that he valued 
an institution simply because it was old, is not only not 
true, but, I think, the reverse of truth. lie had a 
distaste to extreme views of any kind, and, by the 
constitution of his mind, was disposed to take that 
middle ground which partisan zeal is [none to identity 

with timidity or indifference. But he was a man of 



generous impulses and large sympathies. No one was 
more quick to recognize true progress, and street it 
with a more hospitable welcome. Xo man of his age 
would have more readily and heartily acknowledged the 
many points in which the world has advanced since he 
wa~- young. 

It would not be seasonable here to dwell upon Mr. 
Everett's public or political career, but I may be per- 
mitted to add that I think he had genuine faith in the 
institutions of his country, which did not grow fainter 
as he grew older. He believed in man's capacity for 
self-government, and had confidence in popular instincts. 
He was fastidious in his social tastes, but not aristo- 
cratic; that is. if he preferred one man to another it 
was for essential and not adventitious qualities, for 
what they were, and not for what they had. He was 
uniformly kind to the young, and always prompt to 
recognize and encourage merit in a young person. 

Mr. Everett, if not the founder of the school of 
American deliberative eloquence, was its most brilliant 
representative. In his orations and occasional discourses 
will be found his best title to remembrance, and by 
them his name will surely be transmitted to future 
generations. In judging of them, we must hear in 
mind that the aim of the deliberative orator is to treat 
a subject in such a way as to secure and fix the atten- 
tion of a popular audience, and this aim Mr. Everett 
never lost si^lit of. If it be said that his discourses 
are not marked by originality of construction, or philo- 
sophical depth of thought, it may he replied that had 


they been so, they would have been less attractive to his 
hearers. They are remarkable for a combination of 
qualities rarely, if ever before, so happily blended, and 
especially for the grace, skill, and tact with which the 
resources of the widest cultivation arc so used as to 
instruct the common mind and touch tin' common 
Inart. For, whatever were tin- subject, Mr. Everetl 
always took his audience along with him, from first 
to last. lie never soared or wandered out of their 

1 need not dwell upon the singular beauty and finish 
of his elocution. Those who have heard him speak 
will need no description of the peculiar charm and 
grace of his manner, and no description will give any 
adequate impression of it to those who never heard 
him. It was a manner easil) caricatured hut not easily 
imitated. His power over an audience remained unim- 
paired to the last. At the age of seventy he spoke 
with all the animation of youth, and easily tilled the 
largest hall with that rich and flexible voice, the tones 
of which time had hardly touched. 

His organization was delicate and refined, his tem- 
perament was sensitive and sympathetic. The opinion 
ot those whom he loved and esteemed was weighty with 
him. Praise was ever cordial to him, and more neces- 
sary than to most men who had achieved such high and 
assured distinction. Doubtful as the statement may 
seem to those who knew him but slightly, or only saw 
him on the platform with his •• robes and singing gar- 
lands" about him. he was to the last a modest and 


self-distrustful man. He never appeared in public 
without a slight flutter of apprehension lest he should 
fall short of that standard which he had created for 
himself. His want of self-confidence, and, in later years, 
his want of animal spirits, sometimes produced a cold- 
ness of manner, which, by superficial observers, was set 
down to coldness of heart, but most unjustly. 

His nature was courteous, gentle, and sweet. Few 
men were ever more worthy than he to wear " the 
grand old name of gentleman." His maimers were 
graceful, more scholarly than is usual with men who 
had been so much in public life as he, and sometimes 
covered with a delicate veil of reserve. Conflict and 
contest were distasteful to him, and it was his disposi- 
tion to follow the things that make for peace. Ue had 
a true respect for the intellectual rights of others, and 
it was no fault of his if he ever lost a friend through 
difference of opinion. 

Permit me to turn for a moment to Mr. Everett's 
public life for an illustration of his character. In fo- 
rensic contests, sarcasm and invective are formidable 
and frequent weapons. The House of Commons quailed 
before the younger Pitt's terrible powers of sarcasm. 
An eminent living statesman and orator of Great Britain 
is remarkable for both these qualities. But neither 
invective nor sarcasm is to be found in Mr. Everett's 
speeches. T think this absence is to be ascribed not 
to an intellectual want but to a moral grace. 

Great men. public men. have also their inner and 
private life, and sometimes this must be thrown by the 


honest painter into shadow. But in Mr. Everett's case 
there was no need of this, for his private life was 
spotless. In conduct and conversation he always con- 
formed to the highest standard which public opinion 
exacts of the members of that profession to which he 
originallj belonged. As a brother, husband, father, and 
friend, there was no duty that he did not discharge, no 
call that he did not obey. He was generous in giving, 
and equally generous in sacrificing. Where he was 
most known he was best loved. He was wholly free 
from that exacting temper in small things which men. 
eminent and otherwise estimable, sometimes fall into. 
His daily life was made beautiful by a pervading spirit 
of thoughtful consideration for those who stood nearest 
to him. His household manners were delightful, and 
his household discourse was brightened by a lambent 
play of wit and humor; qualities which he possessed in 
no common measure, though they were rarely displayed 
before the public. Could the innermost circle of Mr. 
Everett's life be revealed to the general eye. it could 
not fail to deepen the sense of bereavement which his 
death has awakened, and to increase the reverence with 
which his memory is and will be cherished. 

No man ever bore his faculties and his eminence 
more meekly than he. He never declined the lowly 
and commonplace duties of life. He was always ap- 
proachable and accessible. The constant and various 
interruptions to which he was exposed by the innu- 
merable calls made upon his time and thoughts were 
borne by him with singular patience and sweetness. 


His industry was as methodical as it was uniform. 
However bus} he might be, he could always find time 
for anv service which a friend required at his hands, 
lie was scrupulously faithful and exact in small things, 
lie never broke an appointment or a promise. His 
splendid powers worked with all the regularity and 
precision of the most nicely adjusted machinery. If he 
had undertaken to have a discourse, a report, an arti- 
cle, ready at a certain time, it might be depended upon 
as surely as the rising of the sun. 

I feel that I have hardly touched upon the remark- 
able qualities of Mr. Everett's mind and character, and 
yet I have occupied as much of your time as is becom- 
ing. I have only to offer a few resolutions, in which I 
have endeavored briefly and simply to give expression 
to what we all feel. 

Mr. Ilillanl then presented the following resolutions: — 

Resolved, That as members of the Massachusetts His- 
torical Society, we record, with mingled pride and 
sorrow, our sense of what we have lost in the death of 
our late illustrious associate, Edward Everett, the wise 
statesman, the eloquent orator, the devoted patriot, the 
finished scholar, whose long life of singular and un- 
broken intellectual activity has shed new lustre upon 
the name of our country in every part of the civilized 
world, and whose noble powers and unrivalled accom- 
plishments were always inspired by an enlarged and 
enlightened philanthropy, and dedicated to the hest in- 
terests of knowlcge, virtue, and truth. 


Resolved, That we recall with peculiar sensibility the 
personal qualities and private virtues of our departed 
friend, the purity and beauty of his daily life, his strict 
allegiance to duty, the strength and tenderness of his 
domestic affections, the uniform conscientiousness which 
regulated his conduct, his spirit of self-sacrifice, his 
thoughtful consideration for the rights and happiness oi 
others, and the gentleness with which his great facul- 
ties and high honors were borne. 

Resolved, That the President of the Socieh be re- 
quested to transmit these resolutions to the famih of 
our lamented associate, with an expression of our deep 
sympathy with them in their h>^. and of our trust that 
they may find consolation not merely in the remembrance 
of his long, useful, and illustrious career, but in the 
hopes and promises of that religion of which he was a 
firm believer, and which was over to him a staff of 
support through life. 

The resolutions were seconded by Rev. Dr. Lothrop, who 
then addressed the meeting, as follows: — 

Mr. President: I rise, at your request and at that of 
the standing committee, to second tin- resolutions which 
have just been offered, and to pay m\ portion of the tribute 
of profound, grateful, and affectionate respect, which the 
Society would offer this evening to the memorj of our emi- 
nent deceased associate. And as we gather within these 
walls and in this room, where we have so often welcomed 
his presence. I feel brought back upon me afresh that 
sense of loneliness and of personal bereavement, which, in 


common with so many. I had when I first heard that one 
who for more than forty years had been the object of my 
youthful and m\ mature admiration, one whose speech 
never disappointed me, but had often stirred my heart 
with pure and noble emotions, and to whom I and others 
had so long been aci ustomed to turn upon all occasions of 
public interest and importance, as the person who could 
do and say, in the best way. the best things to be done and 
said. wa> really dead, and that the utterances of his wis- 
dom and eloquence would never more 1"' heard by us on 
earth. My sorrow, however, at his departure, the sorrow 
of all of u<. I think, must be greatly softened by the 
extraordinary felicity of the time and manner of his death, 
and by the recollection of the grand and noble career of 
which that death was the clove. 

In view of my profession and the pulpit which it has 
been my honor and happiness to occupy in this city, it 
may be permitted me, in glancing at his career, to speak 
with some particularity of that which was the beginning 
of it before the public — his brief but honorable connec- 
tion with the clerical profession, and his short but brilliant 
pastorate at Brattle Street Church. Mr. Everett has said, 
I believe, that on leaving college his strongest preferences 
were for the law ; but the influence and advice of friends, 
combining with the promptings of his own heart, the deep 
religious instincts of his nature, determined his choice ot 
the Christian mini-try. That determination must now be 
regarded as fortunate for him and for us. He left the 
pulpit, indeed, shortly after he bad entered it ; but no 
true man ever forgets that he has stood in it. and the 


studies, the spiritual discipline and culture of his early 
profession seem to mo to have exerted upon Mr. Everett's 
mind and heart blessed and important influences, which 
affected his whole subsequent career, and impregnated his 
lite and character with the simple but grand dignity of 
purity. Graduating in 1811, at the age of seventeen, he 
spent two years and a few months at Cambridge, pursuing 
theological studies, and discharging at the same time the 
onerous duties of a tutorship. On the 10th of December, 
1813, a mere youth, who had not yet numbered twentj 
winters, he first stood in Brattle Street pulpit to preach as 
a candidate. Fame had preceded him. and told of his 
talents rich and rare, of his great learning and his great 
capacity to learn, — marvellous even then in the judgment 
of his peers and of the University. — of his extraordinary 
gift of golden speech, his powers of winning, persuasive 

The great, though vague and undefined expectations thus 
awakened, were not disappointed. I have been told by 
many who distinctly remember the occasion, that when he 
rose in the pulpit that morning, a youthful modesty, almost 
timidity, blending with the dignity which a grave and rev- 
erent sense of the importance of his office inspired, lent a 
fascinating charm to his manner, and that from the 
moment he opened his lips, the audience were held spell- 
bound to the end of the service. When the days of his 
engagement were numbered, the universal crv was, "Come 
unto us in the name of the Lord; break unto us the bread 
of life, and let all these rich gifts find their usefulness and 

their glory in the service of the Master here among us." 


He heard the cry as the leadings of Providence, and came. 
His ordination, on the 9th of February, 1814, was an 
occasion of as deep interest as any event of the kind ever 
excited. The most eminent and excellent men of that 
da\ took part in it. It brought a perfect satisfaction to 
the people. It awakened the most brilliant anticipations. 
It was accompanied not simply with the hope, but with 
the conviction, that the former glory of that pulpit, winch 
the death of Buckminster had veiled for a season, would 
be revived with increased and increasing splendor. That 
conviction was verified. As the months rolled on. Brattle 
Street Church, then near the residences rather than the 
business of the people, was crowded Sunday after Sunday 
with audiences of the intelligent and the cultivated, who 
went away charmed, instructed, religiously impressed; and 
the records of the communion show that it was a season of 
spiritual growth as well as of outward prosperity. But 
the year had not reached its close before painful rumors 
began to prevail that this was not to last, and at the end 
of thirteen months after his ordination, he resigned his 
charge, to accept the Eliot Professorship of Greek Litera- 
ture in the University at Cambridge, to which he had 
been appointed by the corporation, with leave of study 
and travel for five years in Europe, in further preparation 
for its duties. 

lie left the clerical profession, and virtually the pulpit, 
when he thus left Brattle Street Church. On his return 
from Europe, indeed, and for two or three years subse- 
quent, he preached occasionally, some ten or fifteen, 
perhaps twenty times in all. I may he permitted a brief 


allusion to some of these occasions, which T remember. 
hirst, of course, he preached in what had been his own 
pulpit, Brattle Street, in the summer of 1819, a few weeks 
after his return. I was one of the mighty company that 
thronged the aisles of that church on that day, and, stand- 
ing on the window-seat nearest the door in the north 
gallery, heard him for the first time when I was just old 
enough to receive my first idea of eloquence, to understand 
and feel something of its power. A month or two later. 
in December of that year, I think, he preached a famous 
Christmas sermon at King's Chapel, and mi the first Sun- 
day in December, 1820, the Quarterly Charity Lecture, at 
the Old Smith Church, which was crowded to overflowing 
to hear him. Another memorable and impressive sermon 
of his, preached several times in different pulpits in this 
vicinity, and which several gentlemen present must dis- 
tinctly remember, was on the text, " The time is short." 
He preached the sermon at the funeral of the Rev. Dr. 
Bently, of Salem, on the 3d of January, 1820, President 
Kirkland and Dr. Ware of the University officiating in 
the other parts of the service. This arrangement was 
probably made in the expectation that Dr. Bently had left 
his valuable library to Harvard College. But tin 1 doc- 
torate from Cambridge was conferred too late, and it was 
found that the library had been bequeathed to Alleghany 
College ; so, to the deep regret of those who heard it, 
Mr. Everett's sermon on this occasion was newer pub- 
lished. On the 19th of January, 1821, he preached the 
sermon at the dedication of the First Congregational 
Church in the city of New York, of which the late Rev. 


Wm. Ware subsequent!) became pastor. This sermon was 
published, and is. I believe, the only sermon he ever pub- 
lished. It is the onl) one i have ever seen. Tn style it is 
simple and grave, less rhetorical than his ovations. It is 
liberal, but conservative, in its theology, broad and catholic 
in its charity, fervent in tone and spirit, evidently the 
product of a devout heart. This dedication at New York 
was the last or among the last occasions on which he 
preached. I feel quite confident that he did not preai h 
after 1821, because the next year, as some who hear 
me will remember, in addition to the lectures connected 
with his professorship, and other duties at Cambridge, 
he was occupied with a course of lectures, whose prep- 
aration, judging from their learning and brilliancy, must 
have cost him no little time and study, on Art and 
Architecture, — more especially, if my memory serves me, 
on Greek and Egyptian Architecture. — which he delivered 
at what was then called the Pantheon Hall, on Wash- 
ington Street, a little south of the Boylston Market. 
Lectures of tin- kind were then unusual in Boston, and 
these, having in addition to their novelty, the strong 
attraction of the name and fame of the lecturer, were 
attended by an audience as cultivated and appreciative 
as ever assembled for a similar purpose. 

From this review it appears that his whole connec- 
tion with the pulpit, including his preparatory studies 
and pastorate before he went to Europe, and the period 
during which he preached occasionally after his return, 
was only about five years. His exclusive connection 
with it as pastor was only one year and a month lack- 


ing four days, from the 9th of February, 1814, to the 
5th of March 1815. In this brief period he made au 
impression, as a preacher, which abides distinct and 
ckar to this hour in many hearts. He left the pulpit 
with the reputation of being the most eminent and 
eloquent man in it ; and lie left in and with the pro- 
fession one book — his "Defence of Christianity" — 
which at the time it was published was justly regarded 
as one of the most learned and important theological 
works that had then been written in America, and 
which, considering it- contents, the circumstances under 
which it was prepared, and the extreme youth of the 
author, may still he regarded as one of the most ex- 
irdinary hooks produced at any time in any profes- 
sion. It i- one of those hooks, of which the paradox 
may he uttered, that its success caused it- failure. It 
so perfectly accomplished its work that it almost dropt 
out of existence. Few of the present generation ever 
heard of it. fewer still know anything about it. Copies 
of it can now he found only here and there, on the 
shelves of Public Libraries, or among the books of 
aged clergymen. It was prepared, as some gentlemen 
here will remember, in reply to a work by Mr. George 
Bethune English, who graduated at Cambridge in 1*<>7, 
the year Mr. Everett entered. This gentleman, not 
without talents, hut erratic in his career, which his 
death terminated in 1828, remained at Cambridge four 
or five years after graduating, studied theology, and I 
believe, preached for a brief period. Being led. appar- 
ently bv the study of the deistical works of Anthony 


Collins, to adopt opinions unfavorable to Christianity as 
a divine revelation, lie published a book entitled. " The 
Grounds of Christianity examined by comparing the 
New Testament with the Old." This work, plausible in 
spirit, having the appearance of great candor in state- 
ment and fairness in argument, attracted attention and 
was much read. It unsettled the faith of many, and, 
if left unanswered, seemed destined to do this for many 

Mr. Everett did, what several older men, I have 
heard, attempted without success; he made a triumphant 
answer to Mr. English's hook, in a volume of nearly 
five hundred pages, which to this day must be regarded 
as replete with the learning bearing upon its particu- 
lar point. Cogent in argument, clear and close in its 
reasoning, eloquent often in the fervor and glow of a 
devout faith, keen yet kind in its wit and satire, conclu- 
sive in its exposition of the ignorance of his opponent, 
his plagiarism, and his dishonesty in the use of his ma- 
terials, this book so completely extinguished INI r . English 
and his disciples, that it soon ceased to be read itself. 
It died out, as I have said, and is now known only to 
a few of the older members of the community and the 
profession. It is a book of such a character, that any 
man at any period of his life might be pardoned the 
manifestation of some littls self-complacency at finding 
himself the author of it. Many have passed a long 
life in the profession, and held a high and honorable 
position in it. without giving any evidence of the 

L'KOCEEDINGS 01? THE [IIS'J i »KK \I, SOi 111 V. 151 

mastery of so much of the learning that belongs to it 
as In contained ill this work. 

His "Defence of Christianity," written partly before 
his ordination and published six months afterwards, in 
August, L814, was Mr. Everett's legacy to the clerical 
profession, bequeathed to it before he was invested 
with a. legal manhood. 1 am aware that their opinions on 
the Prophets and the Old Testament, generally, do not 
permit some eminent theological scholars to put a 
very high estimate upon Mr. Everett's ■•Defence of 
Christianity," but, for myself, without disparagement of 
the good he has done, and the honors he has attained 
in other departments, I cannot but think, that if there 
be any one event, work, or labor of his varied and 
useful life, of which he may, on a just estimate of things, 
he most proud, it is that in the days of his early youth, 
on the very threshold of his career, he prepared and 
published this book, which silenced the voice of infi- 
delity and gave peace, satisfaction, and a firm faith to 
thousands of minds in a young and growing community. 

We are not surprised that a career, which began in 
such industry, in the exhibition of so much learning and 
such fidelity in improving opportunity, should have gone 
on to the close increasing in honor and usefulness. I 
do not propose to follow this career witli such minute- 
ness all through, nor would it be proper in me to do so 
here; but as I have spoken of the clergyman, I may be 
permitted to say something of the Profi ssor at Cambridge, 
as I am the only member of the Societ) present, who, as a. 
pupil in the Academic Department of the University, 


had the benefit of his instructions and lectures. Cam- 
bridge and the family of President Kirkland having been 
my home for several years before I entered college in 
1821, not long after he entered upon bis professorship, 
1 knew something about the college, and had ample 
opportunity of knowing also the fresh impulse which he 
gave to the study of Greek, by the general influence of bis 
reputation as a Greek scholar, by bis occasional presence 
at our recitations to the tutors in Greek, by his suggestive 
directions or advice to such students as wished to give 
special attention to this department, but chiefly by bis 
lectures on the Greek language and literature, which 
were delivered to the senior class, in what was then, there 
being three, the second or Spring Term of the college 
year. The class graduating in 1825, of which I was a 
member, was tin: last of the six classes who had the 
benefit of these lectures. From my recollection of them, 
from notes taken at the time, and from the printed synop- 
sis which was furnished lor our guidance, I have a. strong 
impression of the extraordinary character of those lec- 
tures, as profound, comprehensive, discriminating, and 
largely exhaustive of all the learning connected with 
their theme. Had he published them when he resigned, 
be would have left in bis Professor chair a legacy as 
remarkable, in its kind, as his legacy to the pulpit in 
his •• Defence of Christianity," and secured to himself 
such a reputation as a Greek scholar, master of all the 
learning appertaining to the history and criticism of 
Greek literature, as many a man would have been willing 
to rest ui)on for the remainder of bis life. 


Bat while professor at Cambridge, Mr. Everett was 
interested not simply in his immediate duties, but in 
whatever touched the welfare and improvement of the 
college. In all departments his influence was felt, and 
in (me direction he was active in a way which had some 
connection, 1 suppose, with his resignation of his profes- 
sorship to enter upon political life. In 1823, semi' 
of the eminent gentlemen at Cambridge, then resident 
professors, took up the thought, not without some quite 
substantial reasons, that the •• Fellows," as they are term- 
ed in the Charter, "Members of the Corporation," as we 
commonly designate them, should be chosen from among 
themselves; that the authoritative body, controlling the 
college, having primarily the charge of all its interests. 
and the conduct of all its affairs, should he composed of 
the working men on the spot, who best understood its 
condition and its wants, and were most competent to 
carry it on successfully, rather than of gentlemen engaged 
in other occupations, and living in Boston, Salem, or some 
more distant place. In 1824, they prepared a memorial 
to this effect, addressed to the Corporation, who referred 
them to the Board of Overseers, before which body, 
a hearing, asked for and granted, was subsequently 
held. The late Andrews Norton. Dexter Professor of 
Sacred Literature, and Mr. Everett, were selected to 
represent the memorialists at this hearing. Mr. Norton 
read a vers able paper, marked by the concise accuracy 
of statement and closeness of reasoning for which he 
was distinguished. Mr. Everett without manuscript, 
with only a few brief memoranda, such as a lawyer 


■would use before n jury, addressed the Board in :i 
speech occupying more than two hours. He was inter- 
rupted at times by gentlemen of the Board adverse to the 
position of the memorialists, the accuracy, a pertinence, 
or propriety of bis statements questioned, and in one 
instance, if not more, the decision of the ( 'hair. ( Lieut. 
Gov. Morton presiding,) that he was ■• not in order." 
required him to change his line of argument and 
remark. Nothing, however, seemed to confuse or discom- 
pose him. The situation was novel and trying, yet he 
sustained himself with an admirable degree of self-posses- 
sion, and conducted bis cause with great ability. 1 have 
always supposed that it was the exhibition of his powers 
on this occasion, the coolness and tact with which be 
conducted himself in an argument, and sometimes almost 
a debate, before a body of eminent men. some of whom 
were opposed to his position, that first suggested bis 
nomination to represent Middlesex in Congress, and that 
bis splendid and eloquent oration before the Phi Beta 
Kappa Society, in August, 1824, onlj helped to confirm 
the purpose of bis nomination, and secure his election. 
Thus much at least is clear, any distrust that may have 
been felt in any quarter as to bis fitness or competency 
for congressional service, in view of bis scholastic train- 
ing and habits, found a conclusive answer in the manner 
in which he bore himself in this hearing before the 
Board of Overseers. 

But whatever suggested the nomination, it was made, 
and be was elected in the autumn of 1824, and. delivering 
bis lectures for the last time in the spring of 1S25, he 


resigned and tool* his seat in Congress in December of 
that year. The deep regret felt and expressed by many 
at that time, that so much learning, such various abilities, 
persuasive eloquence, and rare combination of qualities, 

were lost to tin' direct service of literature and religion, 
must he largely diminished, it' net entirely extinguished by 
his eminent and brilliant success, by bis wide spread use- 
fulness in varied departments of public and political life, 
by the singular nobleness and purity of bis whole career, 
and by his constant fidelity and devotedness to the interests 
of truth, virtue, and religion. For be seems to me to have 
been thus faithful and devoted. I feel disposed to main- 
tain that Mr. Everett was true always to the spirit of bis 
early vows, and though he did not continue in the admin- 
istration of religion as an institution of society, he 
continued to cultivate its spirit and power in his heart, 
and to make it the controlling inspiration and energy of 
his life. It is not necessary, nor would it be proper for 
me hero, to go into an analysis of his speeches, votes, 
or conduct at various junctures in our public affairs during 
the last forty years, but it seems to me, that whatever 
difference of judgment party predilections may dispose us 
to entertain about portions oi his public career, a broad, 
generous, just, and fair review of the whole of it, w ill lead 
every one to concur in the position, that it was all under- 
laid and impregnated from the beginning to the end with 
a simple, honest, conscientious, patriotic purpose. The 
very admirable and beautiful analysis of bis character, 
which Mr. 1 1 i 11; i rd lias just read before us, seemed to me 
to confirm this position, and to give the true explanation 


of liis course. From his entrance upon public life in 
1825, to the spring of 1861, all through those more than 
thirty years, in which the struggle between the antago- 
nistic elements of liberty and slavery in our government 
and institutions came up in various forms, he, in common 
with many of our greatest statesmen and large masses oi 
our people, felt that a certain line of policy was the 
wisest and the best, most adapted to keep the peace, to 
preserve the Union from dissolution, and the Government 
and the country from ruin. Therefore, adhering to this 
policy, adopted on conviction, he was for patience, for- 
bearance, compromise, concession, for yielding anything 
and everything that could, not simply in justice, but in 
generosity and honor, be yielded to satisfy those who 
were perpetually holding over us the menace of dissolu- 
tion. Honestly, and in the spirit of a broad patriotism, to 
disarm this menace of all occasion and all justification, 
was the purpose of his action and policy while in public 
office, and of his efforts as a private citizen, and especially 
of that grand national pilgrimage which he made with the 
life and character of Washington as the theme of a magni- 
ficent discourse, which he delivered so many times to such 
vast assemblies in all the principal cities of the land, in the 
hope that under the shadow of that august name, ami by 
the glory of a memory so sacred to all of us. lie might 
allay sectional prejudice and the strife of parties, and 
bind all together in a common love and devotion to the 
Union. But when this hope failed, and he found that 
treason had developed its plans, that rebellion, unfurling its 
standard, had inaugurated civil war. then the policy that 


had hitherto guided his life was instantly abandoned. He 
felt that there was no longer any room for concession or 
compromise, and so gave himself, time, talents, wisdom, 
strength, all that he had. in all the ways that he could, to 
support the legitimate Government of the United States. 
in all the action and policy by which that Government 
sought to maintain at all hazards and at any cost 
the integrity of the Union and country which that 
Government was instituted to preserve. But in all this 
lie was under the inspiration of a patriotism that always 
dwelt in his heart, though in these latter years he seems 
to have been raised to an energy, enthusiasm, and earnest- 
ness of effort, that indicate a deeper and stronger convic- 
tion that he was right than he exhibited or perhaps ever 
experienced before. 

This is the true interpretation, I conceive, to he put 
upon Mr. Everett's political course as a public man. 
in our estimate of him intellectually, it will not he 
maintained, I presume, that Mr. Everett was one of 
those grand, original, creative, inventive, productive 
minds, that strike out new paths in science, philosophy, 
or the policies of States. Such minds come upon the 
world only in the cycle of centuries, lint he had a 
mind of vast powers, capable of comprehending princi- 
ples, gathering up detail-, and making use of both. 
He had a conscientious, unwearied industry, and conse- 
quently accumulated vast stores of knowledge in all the 
departments of art, science, history, and literature, lie 
had a wonderful memory, raised to its highest power by 
constant culture ami exercise. lie had a rare combi- 



nation of intellectual, moral, and physical faculties, and 
above all, he had the power of using all his faculties 
and all his acquisitions with grace, beauty, and dignity, 
so that he touched nothing that he did not illustrate 
and adorn, and came before us ever, on all occasions, 
with a freshness and force that charmed and instructed. 
As is well known to his intimate friends, he was sin- 
gulurh kind, tender, faithful, and true in every domestic 
relation of life, and to all the claims of kindred and 
friendship, with a warm heart under a reserved manner, 
and a sympathizing spirit under lips often reticent ; and 
if, remembering this, we do justice to his private, per- 
sonal character, and then look at his public career, at 
the wide circle id" varied offices which he successively 
held, at the labor performed, the ability displayed in 
each : if we add to these his works as n scholar and a 
literary man, — his magnificent orations, all of them such 
masterpieces of eloquence, pure and elevating in their 
impression; broad, noble, generous in their thoughts; 
breathing ever the spirit of piety and patriotism, fitted 
to instruct our people and unfold our history, while they 
adorn our literature. — his numerous contributions to the 
periodical press, especially those to the North American 
Rcciew, often profound discussions of grave questions in 
literature and philosophy ; if we then crown all with the 
noble and patriotic labors of the last four years, we find 
enough surely in this survej to win for him alike our ad- 
miration and our gratitude ; enough, and more than enough, 
to dispose us to how before his memory in reverence, and 
accord to him the name and the fame of being a great 



man. 'Where shall we find one who in such varied 
spheres has done so much and done it so well '. His was 
a noble life and character, and his career, followed from 
the beginning to the end. was marvellous in its early 
precocity, its growing wisdom, it- ever increasing breadth, 
and it- grand conclusion. ! Ee was a franklin Medal scholar 
in the old North Grammar School ai the age of ten, a 
Franklin Medal scholar at the L'ublic Latin School at thir- 
teen, chief in his class at Cambridge at seventeen, a tutor 
in the University at eighteen, an ordained minister of the 
Gospel before he was twenty, appointed to a professorship 
ot ( .reek literature before he was twenty-one. elected a 
member of Congress at thirty; and thence, after a f \\ 
year-' scwice in the halls of national legislation, he was 
called to the Chief Magistracy of this State, all of whose 
affairs he directed with wisdom, dignity, and usefulness, — 
and theme to represent his country abroad in one of its 
most important and honorable foreign embassies, — and 
thence, on his return to his native land, to preside over 
the interests of learning at its oldest and most advanced 
University, — and thence to a seat in the National Cabinet 
for the Department of State, — and thence to a place in 
that august body, the Senate of the United States, — and 
thence, through noble and patriotic labors, to a higher 
and broader place than he had ever held before, in the 
heart- of his countrymen; and when he had attained to 
this grand preeminence, to be the foremost private 
citizen in all the land, holding no public office, but wield- 
ing a power and doing a service which mere office could 
never do, wearing this great distinction with unaffected 


modesty, walking among us with none of the infirmities 
hut all the glory of age upon his person, and the wisdom 
of age in his speech, — then the beautiful and fitting end 
came, and without a lingering sickness, without a shadow 
upon his iiohle faculties, suddenly he died. Alone in his 
solitary preeminence, alone, as it were, he died; and that 
cold Sunday morning air. that brought a chill to our 
bodies, as it swept through our streets and by our doors 
with its sad announcement, " Edward Everett is dead!" 
brought a chill to our hearts which the warmth of many 
summers will not dispel, and left an image and a memory 
there that will abide with all of us. beautiful and bright, 
so long as we live. Mr. President, I second the reso- 

The Hon. John ('. Gray then spoke as follows: — 

Mr. President: Apart from the intimation with 
which I have been honored through you and other 
respected friends, 1 might have been prompted by my 
own feelings to offer a few remarks on this most sol- 
emn and interesting occasion. One of the few remaining 
companions of my youth has departed. An uninterrupted 
friendship of nearly sixty years has been dissolved. 
But I am not here to speak of my own loss or my own 
feelings, but to contribute in doing justice to the memory 
of the deceased. The theme is a most copious one. 
It is not mv purpose to analyze the character of our 
friend, still less to indulge in vague and extravagant 
eulogv. I prefer to speak briefly of those points in 
his character which have stamped themselves most deeply 


on my own memory. We were of (lie same class in 
college, and for two years of our college life occupied 
the same apartment. I have ever looked back on that 
association as one of the most valuable, as well as one 
of the most gratifying, of my early days. His ripeness 
of judgment was not less remarkable than the precocity 
of his genius. But there is yet higher praise. 

1 can say. and you perceive that I had some means 
of knowing, that I never knew one who preserved a 
more unruffled temper. Not a single instance can ! 
recollect of irritability. Such a temper must of neces- 
sity be its own reward, and I think we may fairly 
ascribe to it much of his subsequent greatness. For, 
sir. among the many weighty truths which fell from 
his lips, I recollect none more striking than a remark 
in his lecture to the working-men. while recommending 
the improvement of their leisure hours. ' ; Generally 
speaking," he observes, " our business allows us time 
enough, if our passions would but spare us." Never 
man more faithfully practised as he preached. In the 
course of his life he had his share of those chastening 
dispensations which come in various shapes and degrees 
to everv one. But none of them caused the slightest 
remission in his unwearied industry. The great sum- 
mons which awaits us all found him at hi- work, and 
so it would have done, come when it might. I shall 
say little more of his college life. New England edu- 
cation was not then what it has since become. Mr. 
Everett improved his literary advantages to the utmost, 
and bore off the first honor-. 



T pass over his short hut brilliant ministry in the 
pulpit and his years of assiduous studv in foreign 
countries. Shortlj after his return he assumed the post 
of editor of our leading review. It was al a most inter- 
esting period. This country and Great Britain had 
closed their contests by an honorable peace, and there 
was on our side a general disposition to cultivate a 
friendly and respectful feeling towards our late adver- 
saries. This certainly was not fully reciprocated. The 
leading British reviews seemed to agree in nothing so 
much as in speaking of our country and its institutions 
with hatred or contempt. Mr. Everett felt it his duty 
to stand forth in defence of our good name. It is not 
a little to his praise that while he did this most ably 
and earnestly, he always preserved the dignity befitting 
his cause and himself, and never descended to meet his 
antagonists with their own weapons. There is good 
reason to believe that his candid and manly appeals to 
the good sense of the people of England were not in 
vain, and that they contributed to create among educated 
Englishmen a feeling better becoming them and more 
just to us, a feeling which for a long time seemed prev- 
alent, and which we had hoped would have been general 
and permanent. Mr. Everett's able and eloquent defences 
of the good name of his country naturally led to invi- 
tations to serve her in public trusts. 

I will not pretend to say that such invitations were 
unacceptable. Suffice it to remark that, if he desired 
public life, he never accepted an office which was not 
properly offered, never purchased one by pledges in 


advance, direct or indirect, and never for a moment 
used his position for the emolument of himself or his 
friends. What I have more to say will be devoted to 

his personal character A spoiler private character lias 
ever been considered in New England, and I trust nut 
in New England alone, as one of the elements of true 
greatness, and Heaven forbid that it should ever he held 
in light estimation! This merit was his beyond impeach- 
ment. — not his alone, most certainly, but his eminence 
in other respects rendered his example in this more 
conspicuous, and thus more widely beneficial. Of this 
character I shall notice one leading feature, — I mean 
his wakeful and unremitted disposition to benefit others. 
If judged by his fruits, we must allow that Edward 
Everett was a most benevolent man. His exertions and 
resources of mind, body, or estate were most freely 
imparted on every reasonable call. — I should say on 
every reasonable opportunity. Whether the applicant 
was a friend or a stranger, the occasion conspicuous or 
unconspicuous, it was enough for him that he could 
serve or oblige in great or small. And now. sir. I 
will close by a few inquiries. No one will suspect me 
of disparaging any of our eminent men, departed or 
Mir\ ivinii'. when [ ;l sk — 

lias any one among us ever been more distinguished 
by a noble use <A~ noble endowment! Has there been 
any niie less obnoxious to the charge of talents wasted 
and time misspent, any one who could say with mere 
truth in words he once felt compelled to utter, that he 
knew not how the bread <>\' idleness lasted! lias anv 


one done more, by his wise and eloquent production-, to 
elevate, instruct, and refine the minds of his countrymen '. 
Finally, has any one been more distinguished In ex< m- 
plary fidelity in public office and by constant kindness 
and benevolence in private life '. Few higher eulogies 
can be uttered than the reply which must rise to the 
lips of every one. 

George Ticknor, Esq. then addressed the meeting as follows: — 

Mr. President: I ask your permission to say a few- 
words concerning the eminent associate and cherished 
friend whom we have lost. — so sadly, so suddenly lost. 
It is but little that 1 can say becoming the occasion, so 
well was he known of all ; for, in his early youth, he rose 
to a height, which has led us to watch and honor and 
understand, from the first, his long and brilliant career. 

On looking hack over the two centuries and a half of 
this our New England history, I recollect not more than 
three or four persons who, during as many years of a life 
protracted as his was beyond threescore and ten, have so 
much occupied the attention of the country, — I do not 
remember a single one. who has presented himself under 
such various, distinct, and remarkable aspects to classes 
ot our commuuitj so separate, thus commanding a de- 
gree ot interest from each, whether scholars, theolo- 
gians, or statesmen, which in the aggregate of its popular 
influence ha- become so extraordinary. For he has been, 
to a marvellous degree successful, in whatever he has 
touched. His whole way of life for above fifty years 
can now he traced back bv the monuments which he 



erected with his own hand as he advanced ; each seem- 
ing, at the time, to be sufficient for the reputation of one 
man. Few here arc old enough to remember when the 
first of these graceful monuments rose before us; none 
of us 1 apprehend is so young, that he will survive the 
splendor of their long line. And. now that we have 
come to its end, and that it seems as if the whole air 
weit' filled with our sorrowful and proud recollections, as 
it is with the light at noonday, we feel with renewed 
force that we have known him as we have known very 
few men of our time. And this is true. How, then, 
can 1 say anything that shall be worthy of memon ; 
still less anything that is tit for record? 

When lie was ten or eleven years of age and 1 was 
about three years older, his family came to live within a 
few doors of my father's house and subsequently removed 
to a contiguous estate. But, at this time, Mr. President, 
when the City of Boston, T suppose, was not one fifth as 
large as it is now, neighborhood implied kindly acquaint- 
ance. 1 soon knew his elder brother, Alexander, then 
the leader of his class at Cambridge, while 1 was a 
student in a class one year later, at Dartmouth College. 
I at once conceived a strong admiration for that remark- 
able scholar; — an admiration, let me add. which has never 
been diminished since. The younger brother, of w hoiu 
1 saw little, was then in that humble school in Short 
Street which lie has made classical by his occasional 
allusions to it, and to the two Websters who were his 
teachers there. From the elder of these, who was fre- 
quently at my father's house. [ used to hear much about 


the extraordinary talents and progress of this younger 
Everett ; praise which my admiration of his brother pre- 
vented me, I fear, from receiving, for a time, with so 
glad a welcome as I ought to have done. During the 
two or three subsequent years, while the younger brother 
was at Exeter or beginning his career at Cambridge, I 
knew little of him, though I was much with the elder 
and belonged to at least one pleasant club of which he 
was a member. 

The first occasion ou which the younger scholar's de- 
lightful character broke upon me, with its true attributes, 
is still fresh in my recollection. It was in the summer of 
1809. Mr. Alexander Everett was then about to embark 
for St. Petersburg, as the private secretary of Air. John 
Quincy Adams, and a few nights before he left us, he 
gave a supper — saddened, indeed, by the parting that was 
so soon to follow, but still a most agreeable supper — to 
eight or ten of his personal friends, one of whom [Dr. 
Bigelow] T now see before me ; — the last, except myself, 
remaining of that well remembered symposium. The 
younger brother was there, so full of gayety — unassum- 
ing but irrepressible — so full of whatever is attractive in 
manner or in conversation, that 1 was perfectly carried 
captive by his light and graceful humor. And this, let 
me here say, has always been a true element of his char- 
acter. He was never at any period of his life a saturnine 
man. In his youth he overflowed with animal spirits ; 
and, although from the time of bis entrance into political 
life, with the grave cares and duties that were imposed 
upon him, tin- lightheadedness of his nature was some- 


what oppressed or obscured, it was always there. There 
was never a time I think — excepting in those days of 
trial and sorrow that come to all — in which, among the 
private friends with whom he was most intimate, he was 
not cheerful, nay charmingly amusing. Tt was so the 
\it\ day before his death. lie was suffering from an 
oppression on the lungs ; and. as [ sat with him, he 
could speak only in whispers; but, even then, his natural 
playfulness was not wanting. 

But from the time of that delightful supper in 1S09, 
my regard never failed to he fastened on him. At first, 
during his under-graduate's life, at Cambridge, I saw him 
seldom. But in that simpler stage of our society, when 
the interests of men were so different from what they 
have become since, all who concerned themselves about 
letters, were familiar with what was done and doing in 
Cambridge. Everett, youthful as he was, was eminently 
the first scholar there, and we all knew it. We all — or. 
at least, all of us who were young — read the " Harvard 
Lyceum." which he edited, and which, [ may almost saw 
In tilled with his scholarship and humor. 

In 1811 he was graduated with the highest honors, 
and pronounced, with extraordinary grace of manner, a 
short oration, on — if I rightly remember — "The Diffi- 
culties attending a Life of Letters," which delighted a 
crowded audience, attracted more than was usual by the 
expectations that waited on what is called "The first 
part." But thus far. what was rnosl known of his life 
was strictly academic, and was only more widely spread 
than an academic reputation is wont to he because lie 


was himself already so full of recognized promise and 
power. His time, in fact, was not yet come. But the next 
Mar it came. He was invited to deliver the customary 

poem at Commencement, before tl Phi Beta Kappa 

Society." It was not, perhaps, a period, when much 
success could have been anticipated for anybody, on a 
merely literary occasion. The war with England had 
been declared only a few weeks earlier and men felt 
gloomy and disheartened at the prospect before them. 
Still more recently Buckminster had died, only twenty- 
eight years old. but loved and admired, as few men ever 
have been in this community; — mourned, ton. as a loss 
to tin- beginnings of true scholarship among us, which 
manv a scholar then thought might hardly he repaired. 
But, as in all cases of a general stir in the popular fold- 
ing, there was an excitement abroad which permitted the 
minds of men to lie turned and wielded in directions 
widely different from that of the prevailing current. The 
difficulty was to satisfy the demands in such a disturbed 
condition of things. 

Mr. Everett was then just in that "opening manhood" 
which Homer, witli his unerring truth, has called "the 
fairest term of life." And how handsome he was. Mr. 
President ! We all know how remarkable was Milton's 
early beauty. An engraving of him — a tine one — by 
Vertue, from a portrait preserved in the Onslow family, 
and painted when the poet was about twenty, is well 
known. But, sir. so striking was the resemblance of this 
engraving to our young friend, that I remember often 
seeing a copy of it inscribed with his name in capital let- 


ters, and am unable to say thai the inscription was amiss. 
Radiant, then, with such personal attractions, he rose 
before an audience already disposed to receive him with 
extraordinary kindness. 

His subject was. "American Poets," certainly not a 
very promising one. Of course his treatment of it was 
essentially didactic; but there was such a mixture of 
good-natured satire in it. so much more praise willinglj 
accorded than was really deserved, such humorous and 
happy allusions to what was local, personal, and familiar 
to all, and such solemn and tender passages about the 
condition of our society, and its anxieties and losses. — 
that it was received with an applause which, in some 
respects. I have never known equalled. Graver and 
grander success 1 have often known to he achieved, on 
greater occasions, nut only by others but by himself, lint 
never did I witness such clear, unmingled delight. Every- 
thing was forgotten but the speaker and what he chose 
we should remember. 

This surcess. it should he recollected, was gained when 
Mr. Everett was only a little more than eighteen years 
old. But, sir, in fact, it had been gained earlier. The 
poem had been read when he was only about seventeen, 
before a club of college friends in the latter part of his 
senior year, and had now been fitted by a few additions, 
for its final destination. Its publication was immediately 
demanded and urged. But on the whole it was deter- 
mined not to give it fully to the world. Four copies. 
however, were privately struck off on large paper, one of 
which I received at the time from the author, and thirty- 


six move in common octavo, which were at once dis- 
tributed to other eager friends. But this was by no means 
enough. A little later, therefore, there were printed, 
with slight alterations, sixty copies more, of which he 
gave me two, in an extra form, marked with his fair 
autograph. I know not where three others are now to 
be found ; though I trust, from the great contemporary 
interest in the poem itself, and from its real value, that 
liiaii) copies of it have been saved. 

It is written in the versification consecrated by the 
success of Dryden and I'ope ; and if it contains lines 
marked by the characteristics of the early age at which it 
was produced, there is yet a power in it. a richness ol 
thought, and a graceful finish, of which probably tew men 
at thirty would have been found capable. At any rate, in 
the hundred and more years during which verse had then 
been printed in these Colonies and States, not two hundred 
pages, I think, can now lie found, which can be read 
with equal interest and pleasure. 

It was only a few weeks afterwards, as nearly as 1 
recollect, that he began to preach. 1 heard his first two 
sermons, delivered to a small congregation in a neighbor- 
ing town, and I heard him often afterwards. The effect 
was always the same. There was not only the attractive 
manner, which we had already witnessed and admired, 
l>iit there was, besides, a devout tenderness, which had 
hardly been foreseen. The main result, however, had 
been anticipated, lie was, in a few months, settled over 
the church in Brattle Street, with the assent and admira- 
tion of all. 


But, in the midst of his success in the pulpit, he was 
turned aside to become a controversial theologian. Harlv 
in the autumn of 1813, Mr. George 1>. English published 
a small book, entitled. "The Grounds of Christianity 
Examined by Comparing the New Testament with the 
Old." It was. in fact, an attack on the truth of tin' Chris- 
tian religion, in the sense of Judaism. Its author, whom 
1 knew personally, was a young man of very pleasant 
intercourse, and a great lover of hooks, of which he had 
read many, hut with little order or well-defined purpose, 
lie would, I think, have been a man of letters, if such a. 
path had been open to him. A profession, however, was 
needful, lie studied law. but became dissatisfied with it. 
He studied divinity, but was never easy in his course. 
His mind was never well balanced, or well settled upon 
anything. He was always an adventurer — just as much 
so in tin' scholarlike period of his life, as he was after- 
wards, when he served under Ismail Pasha, in Egypt, and 
attempted to revive the ancient war-chariots armed with 

His ill-constructed book received several answers, direct 
and indirect, from the pulpit and the press; but none of 
them was entirely satisfactory, because their authors had 
not frequented the strange by-paths of learning in which 
Mr. English had for some time been wandering with 
perverse preference. Mr. Everett, however, followed 
him everywhere with ;i careful scholarship and exact 
logic unknown to his presumptuous adversary. His 
■■ Defence of Christianity" was published in 1814, and 1 
still possess one. out of half a dozen copies ol it that were 


printed for the authors friends, on extra paper, and are 
become curious as showing how ill understood, in those 
simpler days, were the dainty luxuries of bibliography. 
l>ut the proper end of the book was quickly attained. 
Mr. English's imperfect and unsound learning was demol- 
ished at a blow ; and. as has just been mi happily said by 
Dr. Lothrop, the whole controversy, even Mr. Everett's 
part of it. is forgotten, because it has been impossible 
to keep up any considerable interest in a question which 
he had so absolutely settled. Mr. Everett's ••Defence." 
however, will always remain a remarkable book. Some 
years after its publication, Professor Monk, of Cambridge, 
the biographer of Bentley, and himself afterwards Bishop 
of Gloucester, told me that he did not think any Episcopal 
library in England could be accounted complete which 
did not possess a copy of it. 

In the winter following the publication of this book — 
that is, in the winter of 1814-15 — ho was elected Pro- 
fessor of Greek Literature. I was then at the South, 
having made up my mind to pass some time at the Uni- 
versity of Gottingen, and was endeavoring, chiefly among 
the Germans in the interior of Pennsylvania, to obtain 
information concerning the modes of teaching in Ger- 
many, about which there then prevailed in New England 
an absolute ignorance now hardly to be conceived. With 
equal surprise and delight, I received letters from my 
friend telling lire of his appointment, and that, to qualify 
himself for the place ottered him. he should endeavor to 
go with me upon what we both regarded as a sort of 
adventure, to Germany. Perhaps I should add that this 


sudden change in his course of life excited no small com- 
ment at the time, and that, especially by a part of the 
parish whose brilliant anticipations he thus disappointed, 
it was not accepted in a kindly spirit. But of its wisdom 
and rightfulness there was soon uo doubt in the mind of 
an\ body. 

We embarked in April. 1815, and passed a few weeks 
in London, during the exciting period of Bonaparte's last 
campaign, and just at the time of the battle of Waterloo. 
But we were in a hurry to be at work. We hastened, 
therefore, through Holland, stopping chiefly to buy books, 

and early in August were already in the chosen pi; 

our destination. It was our purpose to remain there a 
year. But the facilities for study were such as we had 
never heard or dreamt of. My own residence was in 
consequence protracted to a year and nine months, and 
Mr. Everett's was protracted yet -i\ months longer — 
both of us leaving the tempting school at last sorry and 

How well he employed his time then- tin' great results 
shown in his whole subsequent life have enabled tin- 
world to judge. I witnessed the process from day to day. 
We were constantly together. Except for the tirst few 
months, when we could not make convenient arrange- 
ments tor it. we lived in contiguous rooms in the same 

housi the house of liouterwek. the literary historian. 

and a favorite teacher in the university. During the 
vacations — except one, when he went to the Hague, to 
see his brother Alexander, then our Secretary of Legation 
in Holland — we travelled together about Germany ; and 


every day in term time we went more or less to the same 
private teachers, and the same lecturers. But he struck 
in his studies much more widely than I did. To say 
nothing of his constant, indefatigable labor upon the 
Greek with Dissen, he occupied himself a good deal with 
Arabic under Eichhorn. he attended lectures upon modern 
history b) Heeren, and upon the civil law b) Hugo, and 
he followed besides the courses of other professors, whose 
teachings 1 did not frequent and whose names I no longer 

His power of labor was prodigious; unequalled in my 
experience, (hie instance of it — the more striking, per- 
haps, because disconnected from his regular studies — is. 
I think, worth especial notice. We had been in Gottin- 
gen, I believe, above a year, and he was desirous to send 
home something of what he had learnt about the modes 
of teaching, not only there but in our visits to the univer- 
sities of Leipzig, Halle, Jena, and Berlin, and to the great 
preparatory schools of Meissen, and Pfrote. lie had. as 
nearly as I can recollect, just begun this task. But bow- 
so voluminous a matter was to be scut home was an 
important question. Regular packets there were none. 
even between New York and Liverpool. We depended, 
therefore, very much on accident — altogether on tran- 
sient vessels. Opportunities from Hamburg were rare 
and greatly valued. Just at this time our kind mer 
cantile correspondents at that port gave us sudden notice 
that a vessel for Boston would sail immediately. There 
was not a moment to lie lost; Mr. Everett threw every- 
thing else aside, and worked tor thirty-five consecutive 


hours on his letter, despatching it as the mail was closing. 
But, though sadly exhausted by his labor, be was really 
uninjured, and in a day or two was full} refreshed and 
restored. I nerd not say that a man who did this was in 
earnest in what lie undertook. But let me add, Mr. 
President, that, by the constant, daily exercise of dispo- 
sitions and powers like these, he laid during those two or 
three years in Gdttingen, the real foundations on which 
his great subsequent success, in so many widely different 
ways, safely rested. I feel as sure of this as I do of any 
fact of the sort within my knowledge. 

When I left Gdttingen, he and a young American 
friend [Stephen II. Perkins] — then under his charge, and 
who still survives — accompanied me on my first day's 
journey. At Hesse Cassel we separated, thinking to 
meet again in the south of Europe, and visit together 
Greece and Asia Minor, which, from the time of the 
appearance of " Childe Harold." four or rive year- earlier, 
had been much in our young thoughts and imaginations. 
But " Forth rushed the Levant and the Ponent winds." 
A few months afterwards, at Paris. I received the appoint- 
ment of Professor of French and Spanish Literature, at 
Cambridge; and, from that moment, it was as plain that 
my destination was Madrid, as it was that he was hound 
to go to Athens and Constantinople. We did not, there- 
fore, meet again until his return home, in the autumn of 
1819, where I had preceded him by a few months. 

From this time Mr. Everett's life has been almost con- 
stantly a public one. and all have been able to judge him 
freely and fully. He began his lectures on Greek litem- 


tare at Cambridge the next summer, and I want from 
Boston regularly to hear them, for the pleasure and 
instruction they gave me. The notes I then took of them, 
and which I still preserve, will hoar witness to the merit 
just ascribed to them by tin- friend on my left, who heard 
the same course somewhat later. 

But Mr. Everett was. in another sense, already a public 
man. From the natural concern he felt in the fate of a 
country he had so recently visited, he took a great interest. 
as early as 1821-23, in the Greek Revolution, and wrote 
and spoke on it. both as a philanthropic and as a political 
question. In 1*24 he was elected to Congress. There 
and elsewhere, like other public men of eminence, he has 
had his political trials and his political opponents; some- 
times generous, sometimes unworthy, but never touch- 
ing the unspotted purity of his character and purposes. 
All such discussions, however, find no becoming place 
within these doors. We recognize here no such divisions 
of opinion respecting our lamented associate. We remem- 
ber his great talents, and the gentleness that added to 
their power ; his extraordinary scholarship, and the rich 
fruits it bore ; bis manifold public services, and the just 
honors that have followed them. All this we remember. 
In all of it we rejoice. We recollect, too, that for five-and- 
forty years, he has been our pride and ornament, as a 
member of this Society. But we recognize no external 
disturbing (dement in these our happy recollections. To 
us. he has always been the same. At any meeting that 
we have held since he became fully known to us and to 
the country, the beautiful, appropriate, and truthful reso- 


lutions now on your table, might — if lie had just been 
taken from us as he has been now — have been passed by 
us with as much earnestness and unanimity, as they will 
be amidst our sorrow to-night. They do but fitly complete 
our record of what has always been true. And let us feel 
thankful, as we adopt this record and make it our own, 
that — grand and gratifying as it is — neither the next 
generation nor any that may follow will desire to have a 
word of it obliterated or altered. 

Hon. John II. Clifford then proceeded as follows: — 

Mil President: Having been unable to participate in 
the last offices of respect to the remains of our departed 
associate, and feeling obliged to decline the distinguished 
service to which I was invited, of pronouncing a more 
elaborate address upon his life and character before the 
two Houses of the Legislature, I could not forego the 
opportunity of uniting in this office of commemoration, with 
an Association in which he took so generous an interest, 
and of which he was so eminent a member. 

However inadequate must be any expression of my 
sense of the loss we have sustained, I cannot doubt that. 
the assurance of a simple, heartfelt tribute of personal 
affection and gratitude, when he was to be remembered 
in a circle like this, would have been more grateful to him 
than any studied words of' eulogy, though they were pol- 
ished into a rhetoric as brilliant as his own. 

It is thus only, that I desire to speak of him — mv hon- 
ored chief, my wise and trusted counsellor — mv ever 
constant friend. It was from his hands that 1 received 


now just thirty years ago, my first commission in the 
service of the State ; and from that period up to the 
close of the last month of the last year, he honored 
me with a correspondence which I have carefully pre- 
served as a precious possession for myself and for my 
children. You will pardon me, Mr. President, if, in 
this brief review of what 1 owe to the influence of his 
friendship and his counsels, 1 shall invoke his presence, 
still to speak to us. by a free and unreserved reference 
to this correspondence. 

Admitted to the intimate intercourse of a member id' Ins 
military family, during the entire term of his service as 
Governor of the Commonwealth, he never afterwards 
ceased to manifest the interest in me which that inter- 
course implied, and the value of which no poor words 
of mine, of public or of private acknowledgment can 
ever measure or repay. Of that military family, Mr. 
President. — and " we were seven," — who bore his com- 
mission during those four years of brilliant service to his 
native Commonwealth, you and I are the only survivors. 
to render these last honors to our illustrious chief. 

In the review of his remarkable career, to which, 
since its triumphant close on earth, the minds of so 
many have been turned who never knew him otherwise 
than in his public character, I am persuaded that some 
impressions respecting him, which those who were 
brought nearest to him know to be utterly unfounded, 
an- certain to lie corrected when the materials of a just 
judgment of all that he was, and all that he did. are 
open to the examination of his countrymen. 


It has been said of him that he was of a cold and 
unsympathizing nature. There never was a more mis- 
taken judgment of any public man than this. If 
he possessed any trait more distinctly marked than 
another, it was his unfaltering fidelity to his friends, 
and his warm and generous interest in everything that 
touched their happiness and welfare, as well in the 
trials and the sorrows, as in the successes and the sun- 
shine of life. 

While he was representing the country with such 
signal ability at the Court of St. James, and in the 
midst of the grave and perplexing questions which he 
there discussed and disposed of with such masterly 
skill. I had occasion to communicate to him the death 
of a much loved child, in whom he had taken great 
interest, and who bore his name. In a letter written 
on the receipt of the intelligence, and under circum- 
stances that might well have excused him from an 
immediate reply, — and which would have excused him, 
ii that reply had been prompted by anything less than 
a sincere and unaffected sympathy, which does not 
belong to a cold and formal nature, — he sav< : "I was 
staying at Sir Robert Peel's, with a very agreeable 
party, consisting of several of the cabinet ministers, and 
my diplomatic brethren, when I received your letter, 
which has casf a shade of sadness over my visit that 
I feel as little inclination as ability to throw off. . . 
But let us not speak of our beloved ones as 
taken from us. They are, in truth, not lost, but gone 
before. They have accomplished, in the dawn of life, 


the work which grows harder, the longer the time thai 
is gn i'ii us to do it. ' 

Equallj erroneous, in my judgment, is the opinion that 
Mr. Everett, as a public man, was lacking in moral 
courage. There were occasions in his life when it would 
have required less courage, and have cost a smaller sacri- 
fice to escape this imputation, and secure to himself the 
popular favor, than it did to invite it. J!ut his resolute 
adherence to his own conscientious convictions, his large 
and comprehensive patriotism, his unswerving nationality 
and love of the Union, and the knowledge which a schol- 
ar- studies and a statesman's observations had given him 
of the perils by which that Union was environed, closed 
many an avenue of popularity to him, which bolder, but 
not more courageous, public men than he could consent 
to walk in. 

If timidity consists in an absence of all temeritj and 
rashness, of entire freedom from that reckless spirit which 
so often leads "fools to rush in where angels fear to 
t read," let it be ever remembered to his honor, that Mr. 
Everett was a timid statesman. But if the virtue of 
moderation is still to be counted among the excellent 
qualities of a ruler or counsellor, in conducting the com- 
plex: and delicate questions of policy which affect the 
well-being of a country like ours, and which hear upon its 
future fortunes as well as its present favor, let it also be 
remembered that our departed statesman, while he ad- 
hered inflexibly to his convictions of the right, was not 
" ashamed to let his moderation be known unto all men." 

In this aspect of his character, it has seemed to me that 


the greal Pater Patriae, whom he had so diligently studied, 
and his oration upon whom wrought as great a work 
upon his countrymen as his unsurpassed biographical 
sketch of him in the " Encyclopaedia fkitannica " has had 
u | ii in tin- foreign estimate of Washington, was " his gi 
example, as he was his theme." 

It has been not an unfrequent criticism upon Mr. Ever- 
ett's can er, that it was in a certain sense a failure, 
because, with his scholarly tastes, his patient industry, his 
affluent learning and his great opportunities, he would 
leave behind him no " great work" as the fruit of all his 
accomplishments and powers. If it be a worthy ambition 
in one of great endowments and liberal culture, to do the 
greatest good to the greatest number of his fellow-men, 
and to make the world better for his having lived in it, 
this is a mistaken criticism. It is true his resources were 
ample to have accomplished any " greal work, such as this 
criticism implies, in any of the fields of intellectual activ- 
ity, from which great scholars gather their ripened har- 
vests, lie could have graced the shelves of our libraries 
with precious octavos of history, or science, or literature. 
Hut to have done this he would have foregone that 
"greater work" which he did accomplish, and of which 
the three volumes already published, to lie followed we 
trust by many more, will stand forever a- the witness and 
the memorial — " Xon omnia onuies possutnus. And he 
appointed to himself the nobler task of elevating the pub- 
lic taste. — of bringing before a working people the high- 
est truths of philosophy in a style of adaptation to their 
wants before unknown — of diffusing throughout the com 


munity a knowledge of great historical events and their 
application to the duties of living men. — of implanting in 
the breasts of the people a reverence for their God-fearing 
ancestors, and in justifying the ways of Providence to 
thorn and their posterity, — of displaying before them the 
brightest deeds and the most heroic sacrifices of patriot- 
ism, and thereby inspiring in them the wannest love of 
their country, and instructing them in the duties they 
owed to her, — all these, and more, of the glorious proofs 
that his life was a noble success and in no sense a failure. 
»low in every page of his writings, not one of which in 
dying would he need to blot, from that first lecture 
before the Mechanics' institute in Charlestown, down to 
that last fervid, Christian appeal in Faneuil Hall. 

Mr. President. I speak in the faith of the clearest con- 
viction, that whatever of unjust, or censorious, or honestlj 
mistaken judgment, has ever been passed upon our de- 
parted friend, will be surely modified, if not entirely- 
reversed, in all candid mind-, under the lights with which 
a true and complete history of his life will illuminate it. 
from its earliest promise to its latest tnosl glorious record. 
\1 ready one of his contemporaries, who has made his 
own name •■imperishable in immortal song," in words oi 
manly confession, as honorable to their author as they are 
just to the memory of him of whom they were spoken, 
has anticipated the verdict of history. 

••It." says Mr. Bryant, "I have uttered anything in 
derogation of Mr. Everett's public character at times when 
it seemed to me that he did not resist with becoming 
spirit the agressions of wrong, I now, looking back upon 


his noble record of the last four years, retract it at his 
grave, — I lay upon his hearse the declaration of mv 
sorrow that I saw not then the depth of his worth, — thai 
I did not discern under the conservatism that formed a 
part of his nature, that generous courage which a great 
emergency could so nobly awaken." 

But the praises of men were now of little worth, had 
we not one source of pride and affection open to us in the 
contemplation of this beneficent life, the value of which 
no words of eulogy, apt as they are to run into exaggera- 
tion, can express too strongly. The manifold temptations 
of public life, whether insinuating themselves through 
our domestic politics, or the social and political ethics of 
the national capital, in the arts of diplomacy or through 
the enervating allurements of foreign courts, which in 
some of their Protean forms are so apt to assail the home- 
taught virtue of our public men, never left a tract- of their 
influence upon the purity of his unsullied character. To 
those who had the closest view of him, there was always 
apparent his constant recognition of the presence and 
direction of a Higher Power in all the concerns of life. 
Abundant illustrations of this, indeed, maj be found in his 
published work.. "Who that has read it, who especially 
that had your privilege and mine, Mr. President, of listen- 
ing to it as it fell from his lips, ran have forgotten that 
magnificent passage, in my judgment the most eloquent 
he ever uttered, in hi. speech at the centennial celebration 
at Barnstable in 1 s 39 '. — a passage which the late Chief 
Justice Shaw, who was present, declared to me was, in his 
opinion, unsurpassed in modern historv. 


After describing the condition of "the Mayflower 
freighted with tin- destinies of a continent, as she crept 
almost sinking into Province-town harbor, utterly inca- 
pable of living through another gale, approaching the 
shore precisely where the broad sweep of this remarkable 
headland presents almost the only point at which for 
hundreds of miles she could with any ease have made a 
harbor," he adds: "I feel my spirit raised above the 
sphere of mere natural agencies. 1 see the mountains of 
New England rising from their rocky thrones. They rush 
forward into the ocean, settling down as they advance; 
and there they range themselves, a mighty bulwark 
around the heaven-directed vessel. Yes. the everlasting 
Uod himself stretches out the arm of his mercy and his 
power in substantial manifestations, and gathers the meek 
company of his worshippers as in the hollow of his 

But a more striking, because a more spontaneous 
expression of the same characteristic spirit, is contained 
in a letter of farewell which I received from him. dated at 
New York on the day before his embarkation for Europe 
with his whole family in the summer of 1840, and of 
i i ii use written amidst all the distractions incident to the 
preparations for his voyage. 

The intelligence of the burning of the packet ship 
Poland at sea. and the rescue of her passengers from 
imminent peril by a passing vessel, had then just been 
received in this country. "The fate of the Poland." lie 
writes. ■• makes me feel strongly how near to death we 
ar3 in the midst of life. I embark with all mv treasures 


with sonic misgivings. But having undertaken the voyage 
from proper motives, I seem to be in the path of duty, 
and I am sure I am in the hand of God. There arc man) 
paths to his presence. And whether they load us singly, 
or in families, or companies, — whether by a bed of lan- 
guishing on land, or the blazing dock of a burning vessel, 
or the dark abyss of the sea, can be of but little conse- 
quence in the existence of an undying spirit." 

When his own hour had come, Mr. President, it was 
through no such avenue of suspense and sufferings as 
these that his Heavenly Father took him to himself. But 
in welcoming him, as our faith assures us, to the rewards 
of a "good and faithful servant." He bore him from our 
sighl so graciousl) as to leave us nothing to regret from 
him, either in his death or in his life. Why should we 
mourn over such a death, — the serene close of such a life 
on earth, the entrance upon the assured rewards of the 
Life Eternal ? 

" If ever lot was prosperously cast, 
[fever life was like the lengthened flow 

Of some sweet music, sweetness to the last, 
'T was his." .... 

Sot the music of that matchless voice alone, whose 
inspiring cadences -com still to linger in our .ears, a- we 
assemble in this room, where it so often charmed and 
instructed us. but the diviner harmony to which he gave 
such magnificent expression by a rounded and completed 
life. — a life that was mercifully spared to his country for 
its greatest work during its closing years; whose music, 


during those years of a nation's regeneration, was but a 
prolongation of the music of the I nion, by which lie 
marched, himself, ami inspired his countrymen to march, 
to the gre it conflict with treason and with wrong. 

Hire, and wherever throughout the world, in all 
coming time, the gospel of constitutional liberty is 
preached among men, shall this, his last, greatest work, 
■•he told as a memorial of him." One word more, Mr. 
President, and my grateful task is done. 

In the correspondence from which I have so freeh 
quoted, 1 found, a day or two ago, a striking passage, 
which seems to me a fitting close for this feeble tribute to 
the memory of a loved and honored friend. In a letter 
written to me from Washington early in 185-4, the year 
that he resigned his place in the Senate of the United 
States, he says: "I have never filled an office which I did 
not (piit more cheerfully than I entered. I am not sure 
that it is not so in most cases with the last great ait oi 
retirement, not from the offices and duties of life, but 
from life itself." 

Brethren, to what far-off sphere of celestial fruition 
may we not. without presumption, in that spirit of faith 
which he so strongly cherished, follow our departed 
associate, and hear again the music of that voice, repeat- 
ing this sentiment, now verified and made certain in the 
supreme experience of that last Sabbath morning I 

Dr. ^ alkcr spoke as follows : — 

Mr. President: Leaving it for others to speak of Mr. 
Everett's eminence as a scholar and as a statesman, and 


of the purity and beauty of his daily life, I ask permis- 
sion tn say a feu words of his administration as President 
of Harvard College. There is. I believe, a prevailing 
impression in the community, that this part of his public 
career was less successful than the rest. It' so, it is 
ti> he imputed, in no small measure, to three causes 
which have hindered his merits and services as Head 
of the University from being duly appreciated. 

The first of these causes was his known distaste for the 
office. Most of us remember, that when he was appointed 
to the place, the community were of one mind as to his 
being precisely the man to fill it. — with a single excep- 
tion; but that was an important exception, for it was 
himself. This distaste was never entirely overcome ; and 
there are those who have construed it into evidence of 
want of success. They might have done so with some 
show of reason, if it had grown up in the office; for, in 
that case, it might be regarded as resulting, at least in 
some degree, from disappointed hopes. But when it is 
considered that the distaste was as strong, and perhaps 
stronger, when he accepted the office, than when he laid 
it down, there would seem to be no ground for such a 

The second cause which has hindered the public from 
duly appreciating Mr. Everett's services to the College as 
President, is found in the nature of the reforms and 
improvements attempted and actually introduced by him. 
With his accustomed method and thoroughness, lie could 
not do otherwise than begin at the beginning. Accord- 
ingly, one of his first undertakings was to prepare and 

1 88 MKMOHI \I, OF F.mVAIiD I'.VI : 

publish, under the proper authorities, a careful revision 
of the college laws. This was a most important and 
necessai'y work, which cost months of anxious labor; yet 
not like!) to attract public attention, nor even to be Known 
beyond the precincts of "the University Again, he be- 
lieved that all improvements in the college, to be of much 
solidity, must have 1 their foundation in its improved moral 
and religious condition. No president ever labored more 
assiduously or more anxiously for this end. nor, consider- 
ing the time occupied, with more success. Indeed. I 
cannot help thinking that it is for the measures he insti- 
tuted or suggested with a view to promote the moral 
elevation of the college, that its friends have most reason 
to hold him in grateful remembrance. Yet these also 
were matters which, from their very nature, did not admit 
of display, and some of them not even of publicity; nay 
more, in the beginning they were not unlikely to occasion 
some degree of opposition and trouble. 

But the principal cause hindering a due appreciation of 
Mr. Everett's presidency of the college, brief as it was, is 
doubtless this very brevity. If his health had permitted 
him to retain the office ten years. I have no doubt that 
many things which were offensive to him would have 
disappeared. His attention, meanwhile, would have been 
turned to proper academical reforms, noticeable in them- 
selves, and bringing the college into notice by extending 
its influence and fame. And this, together with the just 
pride taken in his distinguished name, and the unsur- 
passed dignity with which he represented the University 
on all public occasions, would have made his administra- 


tion forever illustrious in the annuls of the college; and 
even, within its limited scope, as illustrious fur him as any 
other part of his public career. Nor is this all. It would 
then have been seen that the first lour years, those which 
we reallv had. wore an appropriate and necessary intro- 
duction to the whole; and as such, they would have come 
in for their full share of the glory. 

Dr. Holmes read the following Poem: — 


Winter's cold drift lies glistening o'er his breast; 

For him no spring shall bid the leaf unfold : 
What Love could -peak, by sudden grief oppressed, 

What swiftly summoned Memory tell, is told. 

Even as the hells, in one consenting chime, 
Filled with their sweet vibrations all the air. 

Sn joined all voices, in that mournful time. 
His "genius, wisdom, virtues, to declare. 

What place is left for wad- of measured praise, 
Till calm-eyed History, with her iron pen, 

Grooves in the unchanging rock the final phrase 
That shapes his image in the souls of men? 

V- I while the echoes still repeat his name. 

While countless tongues his full-orbed life rehearse, 

Love, by his beating pulses taught, will claim 

The breath of song, the tuneful throb of verse, — 



Verse that, in ever-changing ebb and How, 

Moves, like the laboring heart, with rush and rest, 

( )r swings in solemn cadence, sad and slow, 
Like the tired heaving of a grief-worn breast. 

This was a mind so rounded, so complete, — 

No partial gift of Nature in excess, — 
That, like a single stream where many meet, 

Each separate talent counted something less. 

A little hillock, if it lonely stand. 

Holds o'er the fields an undisputed reign, 

While the broad summit of the table-land 
Seems with its belt of clouds a level plain. 

Servant of all his powers, that faithful slave, 

Unsleeping Memory, strengthening with his toils. 
To every ruder task hi> shoulder gave, 

And loaded every day with golden spoils. 

Order, the law of Heaven, was throned supreme 

O'er action, instinct, impulse, feeling, thought; 

True as the dial's shadow to the beam, 

Each hour was equal to the charge it brought. 

Too large his compass for the nicer skill 

That weighs the world of science grain by grain : 

All realms of knowledge owned the mastering will 
That claimed the franchise of his whole domain. 

Earth, air, sea, sky, the elemental fire, 

Art, history , song. — what meanings lie in each 

Found in his cunning hand a stringless lyre. 

And poured their mingling music through his speech. 



Thence flowed those anthems of our festal days, 

'Wliiisc ravishing division held apart 
The lips of listening throngs in sweet amaze, 

Moved in all breasts the self-same human heart. 

Subdued his accents, as of one who tries 

To press some care, some haunting sadness down; 

His smile half shadow : and to stranger eyes 
The kindly forehead wore an iron crown. 

lie was not armed to wrestle with the storm, 
To fight for homely truth with vulgar power: 

Grace looked from every feature, shaped his form, — 
The rose of Academe, — the perfect flower! 

Such was the stately scholar whom we knew 
In those ill dues of soul-enslaving calm, 

Before the blast of Northern vengeance blew 

Her snow-wreathed pine against the Southern palm. 

Ah, <i<»l forgive us! did we hold t< heap 

The heart we might have known, but would not see. 

And look to find the nation's friend asleep 
Though the dread hour of her Gethsemane? 

That wrong is past; we gave him up to Death 
With all a hero's honors round his name : 

A- martyrs coin their blood, he coined his breath, 
And dimmed the scholar's in the patriot's tame. 

So shall we blazon on the shaft we raise, — 
Telling our grief, our pride, to unborn years,— 

"lie who had lived the mark of all men's praise 
Hied with the tribute of a nation's tears." 


The Hon. Richard II. Dana then spoke as follows : 

Mr. Presides! : This full tide of grief and admiration 
lias carried along with it all there is of eulogy, and their 
seems nothing left for me to-night — not wishing to say 
over what has heen so well sa id — hut a single, common- 
place suggestion, exciting no feeling, and entirelj belov> 
the demands of the hour. I would simply remind you, 
brethren, that the fame of Mr. Everett has been fairlj 

It seems to me that he has earned his fame as fairly as 
the painter, the poet, the sculptor, and the composer earn 
theirs. The artist submits his picture or statue, the 
composer his oratorio, and the poet his epic or lyric to 
the judgment of time, and abides the result. Mr. 
Everett, for fifty years, year by year, submitted to the 
judgment of his age orations, essays, lectures, speeches, 
and diplomatic letters, and abided the result. If the 
judgment has been favorable to him. what can have been 
more fairly earned ( 

It has not only been earned without fraud on the public 
judgment, or mistake or accident, but it has been earned 
in strict compliance witli the primeval law of labor — that 
in the sweat of the brow all bread shall be eaten. It has 
not been the result of a few happy strokes of genius. He 
never did anything except with all the might his mind 
and body could lend to it. He was first scholar at liar 
vard, because four years of competition left him so. If 
In' was in anything more learned than other men, it was 
because he did his best with great natural powers. No 


occasions occurred to him that may not occur to all. 
What other men made little of, he made everything of. 
He never trusted to genius or to chance. He owes as 
little, too, as anv man, to the posts he has tilled. Many 
derive importance from holding offices that connect 
them with great events. He stands upon his work, irre- 
spective of otliee ; and, indeed, his best and brightest acts 
have been those of a private citizen. Yes, brethren, 
every stone in the monument be lias budded to himself 
has been quarried, fashioned, and polished by his own 
band and eye. 

Fairly earned, his fame is also firmly fixed. His style 
of thought and expression in written address has been 
tried by the tests of novelty and of familiarity, of same- 
ness and of variety, in old communities and in new 
communities; and that style which forty years before, 
in its freshness, charmed the choice spirits of a critical 
community of readers and scholars, was found in its 
maturity, nay. almost in its age, equal to the conflict 
with the trained diplomatists of Europe, before tin; forum 
of nations. 

So of his elocution. An orator may, by accidental 
cbarm of voice or manner, or by tricks of speech, gain 
celebrity for a time; but the crucial test comes, and he is 
found wanting, or be palls and stales by mere custom. 
But .Mr. Everett's style of speech has been tried by 
every test, applied to every variety of topic, in different 
countries, and lias survived the changes and chances <>| 
taste and opinion, as potent with the sous and daughters 
as with their fathers and mothers. At threescore ami 


ten the spell of his elocution was as effective as in the 
freshness of his youth or the vigor of his manhood. The 
eloquence which forty and fifty years ago filled Brattle 
Street Church to the window-tops, which, in its new-horn 
beauty, charmed the select assemblages at Cambridge, Con- 
cord, and Plymouth, was found in its gray and bent age, 
equal — more equal than any other — to the exigencies 
and shocks of the most vast and momentous popular 
canvass the world ever knew. 

The Hon. 1>. F. Thomas spoke as follows : — 

Mr. President : [f I had consulted my own judgment 
onl_\, it would have been to listen to the gentlemen around 
me, the early, the life-long companions of the illustrious 
dead. I may not claim to have been of Mr. Everett s 
intimate friends. Though I have met him occasionally 
in private life, my means of knowledge are. after all, 
those of a reader and hearer of his public discourse. 
Nor have I. during a portion of his public life, been 
drawn to him by ties of political affinity and sympathy. 
Possibly, following the courtesies of parliamentary assem- 
blies, these considerations may have led to the request 
that 1 should say a word this evening. 

Lf the object of these services of commemoration were 
indiscriminate eulogy, the custom were more honored in 
the breach than in the observance; such service being 
good neither for the <\fAt\ nor the living. If we had no 
higher or nobler purpose, we might well turn to the 
pressing duties of life and of the hour, and let the dead 
bury their dead. 


But if we believe the saying of an old historian, cited 
by Bolingbroke, that history is philosophy teaching bj 
examples; if. rejecting the godless speculations of Buckle, 
we recognize in history the power and influence of the 
individual spirit; if we see in tin 1 lives of great and good 
men not onlj beacon lights on the line of human progress, 
but the most efficient of motive powers, the causa caits- 
tnties ; that great and good men not only make history, but 
constitute history, and the best part of history ; no work 
can be more appropriate to an historical society than the 
commemoration of such a life. 

As von well observed, Mr. President, the other day in 
I'm, mil Hall, in a speech, let me say, so worthy of its 
theme, one knows hardly where to begin or where- 
to end. If we had but one word to say, it would be per- 
haps that Mr. Everett was the most accomplished man 
our country bad produced; of the widest, mosl varied and 
finished culture. That using the word -orator." in the 
sense in which it has come to us from classic times, he was 
our most finished "orator," in fertility of resources, in apt- 
ness of use in grace of manner, in compass and music of 
voice, in curious felicity of diction, seldom if ever surpassed. 
Not always evincing magnetic power or projectile force. 
or the ars artium celare artem : but in his best and happiest 
moods recalling the lines in which Milton, with such 
marvellous beauty, has described Adam, wrapt, entranced 
with the last accents that fell from the lips of Raphael : — 

"The :iii- r >-l ended; but in Adam's ear 
So chaiming left liis voice that he awhile 
Thought him still speaking — .-till it" hoar." 


Though it was as a graceful and eloquent orator that 
Mr. Everett was most widely known to his day and gener- 
ation, we feel that in saying this we have not got a ery near 
to our subject ; that we have not touch* d upon the lines of 
character which make the life of a great or good man the 
worthy subject of study and contemplation. 

< hitside of revelation, Mr. President, men make their 
own gods. They project them from within. They clothe 
them with their own passions, they dwarf them by their 
own infirmities. So it is in the construction of our heroes 
and great men. We not only admire chiefly the qualities 
in which we discover some resemblance to our own; but 
we are very apt to dwell on them as the salient points of 
character. "We insist upon casting men into the moulds 
of our own minds. This may lie natural, but it is neither 
manly nor just. That only is a manly and catholic criti- 
cism which appreciates and admires qualities utterly 
diverse from our own ; which recollects that our antipodes 
stand also on the solid earth ; that there may he diversities 
of gifts but the same spirit, differences of administration 
but the same Lord ; that the eye cannot say to the hand. 
I have no need of thee, nor the head to the feet, I have 
no need of you ; that this diversity of gifts and tendencies 
is part of God's economy for the well-being and progress 
of the race. 

It is by the conflict and balance of forces that the plan- 
ets know their places and -'each in his motion like an 
angel sings." A like conflict and balance of forces is tin 1 
law of human life and progress. In the shallow philoso- 
phv of l'ope. there is not a shallower commonplace, than 


" Just as the twig is bent the tree 's inclined." You maj 
twisl and distort the growth of the tree, you may prune 
it into fantastic shapes, but the tree as God meant it to be 
lies wrapt in the germ, before the warm embrace of earth 
vends it up to greet the sun. The natural differences of 
men overcome and outgrow all culture and discipline. 
These two sons of tin- same parents, bred at the same 
fireside, trained in the same schools, surrounded by the 
same influences, ripened into manhood, the one shall he- 
come in politics a radical, the other a conservative, hi re- 
ligion one shall be the most protesting of protestants, the 
other repose with a child's trust on the bosom of the church. 

In all free governments political parties are formed, 
and though they spring up sometimes for local and 
temporary purposes, yet as a general fact and in their 
last analysis, they will be found to lie radical and con- 
servative, the one having progress as its constant aim. 
(lie other dwelling upon the limitations of progress. 

In the best sense of the word Mr. Everett was a con- 
servative. Xo man more thoroughly understood or more 
fully appreciated the free institutions which the toils and 
sacrifices of good and wise and true men of twenty gen- 
erations had secured to us. He had faith that whatever 
of error and imperfection was to he found in the work 
of the fathers would he removed by peaceful methods. 
by the progress of science, and art, and Christian cul- 
ture and civilization. With his conservatism was found 
a broad, liberal, and catholic spirit. Bred in the extreme 
school of Protestantism, he did not understand by liberal 
( 'hristianit\ the negation of things divine, the bowing of 


religion out of tin- circle of the human mind. Fie did 
not exclude from his idea of mental liberty the " liberty 
of obedience ;" the liberty with which Christ makes men 

Bred in the school of the Puritans, illustrating their 
virtues, admiring their sublime devotion to duty, lie could 
not have loved Puritanism the less because it was asso- 
ciated with the venerable past, because time had softened 
and hallowed its more rugged features, because distance 
lent enchantment to the vi< w. 

Bred in a school of politics, which, though of the high- 
est integrity, had strong sectional tendencies, he was 
among the most national of our statesmen. Xo part oi 
the land was shut out from his sympathy and regard. 
[lis patriotism covered the country, however bounded. 
\o word dropped from his lips or pen to promote sec- 
tional hate or strife. His public life was a ministry of 
concord and peace, lie understood the compromises of 
the Constitution, and was ready faithfully to abide by 
them. lie appreciated and admired this marvellous frame 
of government, by which, for tin 1 first time in history, 
central power was reconciled with local independence, the 
immunities of free Stutes with the capacities of a great 
empire. From the first to the last, through evil report 
and through good report, bo clung to the Union of these 
States and to the Constitution as its only bond. Xo man 
labored more earnestly and devotedly to avert the coming 
strife. His dread of civil conflict seemed to wear at times 
almost the aspect of timidity. But if he felt more strongly 
it \\;i^ because he foresaw more clearlv. 

L'Ei m IEEDIXGS 01 THE IIISTi >i;i< \1, SOCIE'I Y. 1 {){) 

No greater injustice can be clone to Mr. Everett, than 
bj the suggestion that in the last three or four years of 
his life bis opinions had undergone a radical change, 
that the services of the past three years were a sort of 
propitiation and atonement fur those that had gone before. 
Some of the views of public policy developed by Mr. 
Everett within the last two years did not command my 
assent. That was equally true with some of his earlier 
opinions. But I can see no necessan conflict between 
Mr. Everett the conservative state-man. the life-long de- 
fender of the Union and the Constitution, and Mr. Everett 
the ardent supporter of a war to secure from destruction 
that Union and Constitution. Difference of judgment as 
to what might be effected by tone of arms might be the 
result of changes in the condition of the country, in the 
unity of sentiment and action in the loyal States. What 
seemed to him impossible in 1861, might, from the success 
of our anus, seem feasible in 1S6-A. So measures that he 
deemed to be impolitic at the first period might seem to 
him to be demanded by the necessities of the second. 
Those differences marked no radical change of principles ; 
and one. a\ ho differed from him on some few questions of 
policy while adhering to his general views, may be 
pardoned a word to save him from the ton great kindness 
of hi- later friends. 

Honor, as the heart shall prompt, his labors to uphold 
the arm of government against secession, to give unity to 
it- counsels and efforts, to brim;- all men to it- standard. 
We may honor none the less a lite given to what his 
nephew and my friend has fitly called the ministn of 


conciliation, to the victories of peace. Nor will we forget 
how. at tlic first glimpse of opportunity, he turned to his 
first love; how, when the cry of suffering came from a 
conquered city, his heart went out to meet and to help it; 
how naturally he recurred to the power of Christian sym- 
pathies and kindness ; how the blessed words of the 
royal preacher of Israel sprung to his lips. •• If thine 
eii! 'in v hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink." 

Blessed close of a great and good life. Blessed privi- 
lege to forget for a moment the horrors and glories even 
of war. the shouts and waving banners of triumph, to sit 
again at the feet of the Divine Master, to lean upon his 
bosom, to be kindled by and to radiate his divine love. 

Hon. James Savage made the following remarks : — 

Mr. President: I am a little surprised to be called up : 
and vet. sir, as the catalogue of the Society shows. Mr. 
Everett's name stood next to mine. I hope I maj he ex- 
cused if the infirmity of age is more apparent than any- 
thing else in what I say. I can refer to the early da_\^ of 
Mr. Everett, which has not been more than once alluded 
to. and that before he had adopted the resolution of taking 
the profession of a preacher of the Everlasting Gospel. 
In this he was most eminently successful, and before that 
1 remember well, sir. that the boy was father to the man. 

No one who then looked at him and heard him, would 
have failed to foretell the success which attended him. Of 
Mr. Everett, 1 supposse it can be said as of other men, 
that he touched nothing that he did not adorn. 1 cannot 


give vou the Latin, sir. but it is one of the very strong 
illustrations of human grace and felicity. It was very 
observable. When I was in England I had the advantage 
of great attention from Mr. Everett. When their chief 
statesman, Sir Robert Peel, was suddenly stricken down 
by instant deatli — and when tin- Earl of Aberdeen, 
another great friend of our country, succeeded him, con- 
tinuing to maintain all our just rights consistent with the 
rights of his own country, — I had the advantage of 
meeting at Mr. Everett's, more than once or twice, some 
of the first gentlemen of England, chiefly official persons. 
and there to observe that no man of their own country 
was more attended to or less inclined to presume upon 
that attention. Tie seemed to be always the servant of 
the public in private as well as in public. I believe that 
our country has never had a superior minister anywhere 
at any court. T only wish that our present representative, 
my younger friend, may make Mr. Everett's place good. 

Hon. Emory Washburn addressed the meeting as follows: — 

Mr. President: 1 shall not presume, in such a pres- 
ence, to speak of Mr. Everett as a scholar, for I should 
foil that, by so doing, I was trespassing upon ground 
which would he so much more properly occupied by 
others. Nor will the time allotted me. admit of my dwell- 
ing upon the prominent part which he has taken in the 
historic events of the last thirty years of his life. 

< mi the other hand. I cannot pretend to that intimate 
relation in the associations with him with which I have 
been favored, which would justify my attempting to draw 

202 Ml MORI \1. OF EDWARD r\ I RETT 

the nicer shades of character which intimacy alone en- 
ables one to analyze and trace. The most I can hope to 
do, is to give, in general terms, the results upon my own 
mind of the observation of more than fort} years, chiefly, 
of his public life. And yet I have too often shared in 
his acts ot personal kindness and courtesy, not to feel that 
1 have a right to speak, also, of some of those traits of 
private character which stand out so prominently in the 
history of his life. 

The impression which my study and observation of Mr. 
Everett's career have left most strongly defined upon my 
own mind, is its harmony and completeness in all its parts 
and characteristic qualities. In no held of honor or use- 
fulness which he was called upon to occupy, did he ever 
fail to meet its reasonable requirements, nor did he ever 
shrink from the labor which its duties imposed. Many 
men have been great in one department of intellectual 
power or excellence, without possessing any claim-- to 
distinction in any other. Some cultivate one set of their 
powers or faculties, at the expense of the others. And of 
many, the judgments which we form, are but the balanc- 
ing of one quality against another, the good against the 
evil, in order to ascertain at what point in the scale of 
moral worth we are to place them, in the estimate which 
we form of their character. The great warrior may be 
the brutal tyrant or the sordid miser. The brilliant poet 
may not soar above the atmosphere id' his own vices, and 
the splendid orator while arousing and wielding the pas- 
sions of others, at his will, may be the veriest slave ot' 
Ins own. Examples like these serve to mark the contrast 


lit' good and evil which are found in so many of the men 
whom the world has called famous. 

But in the life of .Mr. Everett, we seek, in vain, for any 
such contrasts as these. It was not because there were 
not, in the constitution of his mind and character, prominent 
and striking qualities, but because there was no occasion 
to go through the process of balancing these qualities 
against each other, in order to determine the relative rank 
of merit in which he is hereafter to be held in the judgment 
of posterity. His character in this respect was homoge- 
neous in its element-., and complete, as well in its parts, as 
in the relations of these to each other. 

That which must have struck every one who knew Mr. 
Everett as worthy of special notice, was the filling up, if I 
may so say. which gave to his life and character that 
roundness of proportion which renders it difficult, as we 
now look upon it, to say which of the traits for which he 
was distinguished, stand out most prominently upou the 
canvas. The picture is therefore in danger of being 
indistinct, from the absence of shade by which to bring- 
out its features into bolder relief. He was the scholar at 
the same time that he was the orator of the pulpit and of 
the senate, lie was the statesman and the diplomatist, 
the administrative officer, and, for mam years of his life, 
tin leading citizen in all the land. He was the Christian 
gentleman and the patriot; — and he won in them all. the 
respect and admiration of the country. And yet, wdio is 
now ready to say in which of these he transcended his 
own excellence in any other trait into which his character 
may be divided? J lad he been either of these alone. 


there would have been, in the graces and accomplish- 
ments which he would have brought to its duties, enough 
to have given to his life in that sphere, the seeming 
finish of completeness. This is what I mean by that 
filling up which gave such an admirable fulness and 
consistency of proportion, in his character and life. 

[ might illustrate this thought further by referring to 
what is familiar, perhaps, to us all. It is more than forty 
years since 1 first heard him in the pulpit. I need not 
say with how much delight I listened to the rich and 
varied thought, the beauty of diction, the inimitable power 
of description, the affluence of illustration, and the pathos 
of appeal which gave so much life to his sermons of that 
day. These qualities of high pulpit oratory may not 
have been peculiar to him. But there was added to 
these, a beauty of countenance, a grace in action, a 
sweetness in voice, and an impressive, though almost 
measured modulation in tone and cadence, which left 
upon the mind of the hearer the conviction that he was 
unsurpassed as a rhetorician and an orator. 

I afterwards heard him on the floor of Congress, and 
there he was no less at home than in the pulpit. And 
the dignity of his bearing, the mastery he showed of his 
subject, and the eloquence of the language he uttered, 
commanded the willing attention of that body, while it 
was yet dignified by men of eloquence and a national 

We all know how faithfully and conscientiously he 
performed the duties of the Executive of this Common- 
wealth. Nothing was left undone which courtesy, or 


kindness, or etiquette, claimed at his hand, from patiently 
listening to the broken language of the wife or mother 
pleading for the pardon of a wayward husband or son, to 
those dignified state papers which came from his pen 
perfect in all their parts. The same may lie said of the 
manner in which he bore himself at the court of St. 
.lames, ami as successor of Mr. Webster, at the head of 
our American court at Washington. 

And in this, I do not mean to refer so much to great 
exhibitions of skill and power as a diplomatist and a 
statesman, as to the qualities which belonged to him per- 
sonally as a man, and which helped to grace and fill up 
the measure of his official character. 

But this character for completeness to which I have 
alluded, may perhaps he better illustrated in the personal 
qualities which he exhibited in the amenities of private 
life. We have heard him called cold in his sympathies, 
and ungenial of manners, in his intercourse with others ; 
and I confess that, till I knew him, I thought his seeming 
reserved, if not austere. Hut I need not say. in this 
presence, how soon this impression was corrected when 
one came in direct contact with him. either socially, or in 
the ordinary intercourse of private life. There was in 
his organization something of that shrinking delicacy 
which makes one apparently shy and sensitive. But 1 
will venture to say. that no one ever went to him for 
kindness, or sympathy, or counsel, and found him either 
cold or repuhive. 

•He never forgot the courtesies of the gentleman in his 
intercourse with anv man. however humble or devoid of 


influence he may have been. He never was surpassed in 
the scrupulous punctuality with which he replied to a 
correspondent, however unimportant the subject addressed 
to him, nor in the indulgence with which he received 
and the kindness with which he acknowledged, the well 
intended but often equivocal favor of printed works and 
papers, with which authors loaded his table and taxed his 
(inn the thing he was the least able to spare. 

The kindliness of his nature was manifested in a 
hundred different forms, though rarely so as to attract the 
observation or applause of others. In all the trying situa- 
tions in which he was placed, at times, censured by party 
antagonism, misconstrued in his motives and his acts, and 
smarting under the keen rebuke of public disfavor, I do 
not believe any one ever saw him lose the dignity of his 
self possession, or heard him indulge in harsh or uncour- 
teous language towards his bitterest opponent. 

Nor will the world ever know how often the deserving 
young man. struggling with adverse circumstances, has 
found in him, what he needed more than money — a wise 
counsellor and a kind friend. Hundreds could now tell 
us how he sought them out, aided and encouraged them, 
and helped them onward in a career of usefulness and 
honor. While his body lay waiting for that august 
solemnity in which a whole city, and, I might add. a State 
and Nation here a part, the door bell of his house was 
rung, and, upon its being opened, there stood upon the 
threshold a young man. a stranger, in the dress of a 
junior officer in the navy. He asked permission to come 
in and look, once more, upon the form and face of Mr. 


Everett. " I am a stranger to you," said In- to the gentle- 
man in attendance, " but Mr. Everett was the best friend 
I ever had; he procured me the place 1 now hold, and 
from that day has never failed to write me letters of en- 
couragement and advice, although I had no claim upon 
his kindness and generosity." 

Of his affluence, whether of wisdom or learning, of 
worldly gifts or kindly consideration, he never withheld. 
when appealed to by object- of merit and desert. 

1 desire also to say a single word upon another enor 
into which the public mind may have naturally fallen. 
Whatever he wrote or delivered was. uniformly, so 
finished and perfect in style and language, as well as in 
thought, that an impression became general that he had 
little ready or spontaneous eloquence, and that, in order 
to meet an occasion, he must have time for careful prepa- 
ration. In the danger which he had to contend with, of 
having himself for a rival, he was, undoubtedly, loth to 
speak without previous preparation. But his friends 
knew that he was not only a man of ready and stirring 
eloquence, but that, with all the grave, serious, and dig- 
nified manner which characterized so many of his orations 
and public addresses, he had a fund of keen and sprightly 
wit. of playful humor, and apt and gentle repartee, which, 
at times, electrified the hour, and delighted whoever was 
fortunate enough to witness them. 

It might seem that for one who. through a long period 
of public services, had shown himself worthy to hold a 
place in the foremost rank, nothing could be needed to 


fill up and round out a life of so much active usefulness 
and lienor. 

But do we not all feel, now, how much it would have 
wanted, if it had lacked the finish with which the history of 
the last four years has crowned and completed tin 1 work ! 
Nobody had a right to doubt the honesty and sincerity oi 
his convictions and opinions, however much one may 
have differed from him in the matters of public policy. 
But he saw the coming of that dreadful storm which lias 
been sw r eeping over our country, and, like many other 
true patriots, he was willing to avert it bj a conciliatory 
policy, though, by so doing, he subjected himself to the 
imputation of timidity or want of heart. But when he 
saw that the scheme of the conspirators was not to secure 
the rights which were theirs, but to usurp those to which 
they had no claim; when he sow that the purpose at 
which they aimed was not peace, but the overthrow, by 
war, of the Government under which our country had 
grown great and prosperous and happy, he threw the full 
weight of his accumulated power of intellect and influ- 
ence into the struggle, and. in the forgetfulness of old 
opinions and cherished associations, he gave up to his 
country the stores of learning, the resources of eloquence, 
and the gathered energies of an entire life devoted to 
diligence and duty. Men no longer called him timid, for 
he showed that he had that highest of all courage, which 
dares to go against one's own prepossessions and uttered 
opinions, when in the light of present events, lie looks 
hack upon the unintentional mistakes of the past. The 
nation, the world itself looked on with admiration, as this 


brave old champion in the cause of right, urged on the 
battle by his trumpet call to duty and to arms. And 
thev felt that his record was complete, his life rounded 
out into the full proportions of Christian manliness, 
when he uttered that last noble appeal, to crown the 
triumphs of n nation's success, by the divine magnanimity 
that feeds our enemy and carries him comfort in the hour 
of prostration and distress. 

While standing upon that lofty eminence of fame, to 
which a long and arduous life of noble action had 
raised him, it was ;i kind Providence that spared him 
from even the possibility of danger of any coining misap- 
prehension or mistake, lie laid by his armor before the 
evening shadows had dimmed a single gleam of its bright- 
ness. But he went not to his rest till his last day's work 
was fully and nobly accomplished, lie put off the garb 
which he had worn amid the dust and toil of an ever 
busy life, to waken to a new existence where, while the 
past is secure, the future can never he clouded bv the 
nations of erring nature, or the frailties of human 

The fame which, till then, had been in his own keep- 
ing, he left in charge of the country he had so hum 
served. And can we doubt that the trust will he sacredly 
kept ? They will rear to him statues and monuments. 
And they will do more. They will keep these monu- 
ments and memorials alive, by cherishing the memory 
of the man to whom they are reared, in the treasured 
offerings of a nation's history. 

ft will he but another illustration of the immortality 


which the fame of a truly great man lends to the works 
of art, by which men seek to perpetuate the raemon of 
the dead. The chisel of the artist may bring out from 
the marble the form and features of one whom pride or 
affection may seek to honor. But it is. at last, to history 
that we must look, to interpret the record which sculp- 
ture may have tried to register. 

^ nil. sir, beautifully reminded us. on another 01 casion, 
of the search of the Roman orator amongst the rank 
weeds and gathered rubbish of the cemetery of Syracuse, 
for the forgotten monument of Archimedes, while you 
reminded his countrymen that the great American Philos- 
opher and Statesman, till then, had no memorial of art 
reared to him, even in the city where he was born. 
But though they answered that appeal with n generous 
alacrity, the enduring bronze of which his speaking 
statue is fashioned by the skilful cunning of art, would 
do little to keep his memory alive for the service of pos- 
terity, if his name had not been enrolled among the great 
names that shed lustre upon the pages of his country's 

So it will be with the statue which, as we trust, a 
gratified people will place by the side of his great com- 
patriot, in the front of our Capitol. It is fitting that it 
should stand there, a memorial, immortal in the light of 
history, of the man. and of a people's gratitude. '1'he 
name of Everett, repeated to the inquirer in after ages, 
will reanimate that form, and it will speak of the scholar, 
the statesman, the orator, the patriot, and tin- Christian 


•J 11 

gentlemau, to whom it shall have been reared by a pi 
that knew, and loved, and honored him. 

The Rev. Mr. 'VN'atcrston read the following communication 
from John (!. Whittier, introducing; the letter by the words of Dr. 
i I inning, who said of Mr. Whittier, more than a quarter of a 
centurv a^jo : " His poetrv bursts from the soul with the lire and 
energy of an ancient prophet. And h ible s mplicity of char- 
acter is the delight of all who know him." 

A\n>r.ri;Y. 27th 1st Month, 18(55. 

My dead Friend: I acknowledge through thee, the 
invitation of the standing committee of the Massachusetts 
Historical Society to be present at a special meeting of 
the Society for the purpose of paying a tribute to the 
memory of our late illustrious associate, Edward Everett. 

It is a matter of deep regret to me that the state of my 
health will not permit me to be with you on an occasion 
ni' so much interest. 

It is most fitting that the members of the Historical 
Societ\ of Massachusetts should add their tribute to those 
which have been already offered by all sects, parties, and 
associations, to the mime and tame of their late asso- 
ciate. He was himself a maker of history, and part and 
parcel of all the noble charities and humanizing influ- 
ences lit' his State and time. 

When the grave closed over him who added new lustre 
to the old and honored name of Quincy, all cms instinc- 
tively turned to Edward Everett as the last of that ven- 
erated class of patriotic- civilians who. outliving all dissent 
and jealousy and party prejudice, held their reputation 


by the secure tenure of the universal appreciation of its 
worth as a common treasure of the republic. It is not 
for me to pronounce his eulogy. Others, better qualified 
by their intimate acquaintance with him, have done and 
will (in justice to his learning, eloquence, varied culture, 
and social virtues. My secluded country life has afforded 
me few opportunities of personal intercourse with him. 
while my pronounced radicalism, on the great question 
which has divided popular feeling, rendered our political 
paths widely divergent. Both of us early saw the danger 
which threatened the country. In the language of the 
prophet, we " saw the sword coming upon the land." hut 
while he believed in the possibility of averting it by 
concession and compromise, I. on the contrary, as firmly 
believed that such a course could only strengthen and 
confirm what I regarded as a gigantic conspiracy against 
the rights and liberties, the union and the lif'e. of the 

Recent events have certainly not tended to change this 
belief on my part ; but in looking over the past, while I 
see little or nothing to retract in the matter of opinion, I 
am saddened by the reflection, that through the very 
intensity of my convictions 1 may have done injustice to 
the motives of those with whom I differed. As respects 
Edward Everett, it seems to me that only within the last 
tour years 1 have truly known him. 

In that brief period, crowded as it is with a whole 
life-work of consecration to the union, freedom, and 
glory of his country, he not only commanded respect 
and reverence, but concentrated upon himself in a most 


remarkable degree the Live of all loyal and generous 
hearts. We have seen, in these years of trial, very great 
sacrifices offered upon the altar of patriotism — wealth, 
ease, home-love, life itself. But Edward Everett did 
more than this; he laid on that altar not only his time, 
talnits. and culture, but his pride of opinion, his long- 
cherished views of policy, his personal and political 
predilections and prejudices, his ((institutional fastidious- 
ness of conservatism, and the carefully elaborated sym- 
metry of his public reputation. With a rare and noble 
magnanimity, he met, without hesitation, the demand of 
the great occasion. Breaking away from all the beset- 
ments of custom and association, he forgot the things that 
are behind, and, with an eye single to present duty, 
pressed forward towards the mark of the high calling of 
Divine Providence in the events of our time. All honor 
tn him! If we mourn that he is now beyond the reach 
of our poor human praise, let us reverently trust that he 
has received that higher plaudit : "Well done, thou good 

and faithful servant ! 

i •• 

When 1 last met him, as my colleague in the Electoral 
College of Massachusetts, his look of health and vigor 
seemed to promise us many years of his wisdom and 
usefulness. On greeting him I felt impelled to express 

my admiration and grateful appreciation of his patriotic 
labors; and I shall never forget how readily and grace- 
fully he turned attention from himself to the great cause 
in which we had a common interest, and expressed his 
thankfulness that he had still a countrj to serve. 

To keep green th- memorv of such a man is at once a 


privilege and a duty. That stainless life of seventy years 
i-- a priceless legacv. J I is hands were pure. The shadow 
of suspicion never fell on him. If he erred in Ins 
opinions (and that he did so, he had the Christian grace 
and courage to own), no selfish interest weighed in the 
scale of his judgment against truth. 

As our thoughts follow him to his last resting-place, 
we are sadly reminded of his own touching lines, written 
man) years ago at Florence. The name he has left 
behind is none the less "pure" that instead of being 
••humble." as he then anticipated, it is on the lips of 
grateful millions, and written ineffaceably on the record 
of his country's trial and triumph : — 

•' Yet not for me when I shall fall asleep 

Shall .Santa Cr :'s lamp- their vigils keep; 

U j nd the main in Auburn's quiet shade, 

With those 1 loved and love my couch lie made; — 

Spring's pendent branches e'er the hillock wave, 

And morning's dewdrops glisten on my 

While Heaven's great arch shall rise above my bed, 

When Santa Croce's crumbles on her dead — 

Unknown to erring or to suffering fame-. 

So 1 may leave a pure though humble name " 

Congratulating the Society on the prospect of the speed) 
consummation of the great objects of our associate's 
labors — the peace and permanent union of our country. — 
I am very truly thy friend. 

Robert ('. Waterston, Boston. 

The incctinu then adjourned. 





, At a meeting of the Thursday-Evening Club, January 2C>, 
L8G5, at the house of Mr. Gardner Brewer, the following 
remarks were made on the death of Mr. Everett, by I>r. .1. Mason 
Warren : — 

Gentlemen: Since the last meeting of this Club, 
death lias visited us ; and. in the person of our friend 
and President, lias called away the first citizen of our 

Honored alike at home and abroad, his loss will be 
felt throughout the length and breadth of the civilized 
world; and his name will justly stand among the most 
distinguished of all ages. 

Again and again, during the last week, has his eulogy 
been pronounced, in terms far more adequate to his 
merits than any which \ can employ; yet here, in this 
circle of friends, we mice more contemplate him in the 
private and social relation which he bore to this Associa- 



The peculiar organization of our Club — designed (to 
use tin' words of Mr. Everett, as spoken here on a former 
occasion) to bring together persons of different professions 
and pursuits, to converse and communicate with each 
other on the scientific improvements of the day, and 
other topics connected with social culture and progress : 
thus uniting the active and the professional, tin' scien- 
tific and business classes of the community in a friendly 
circle — lias been successful, in no common degree, in 
combining refined social enjoyment with mutual improve- 
ment in knowledge. 

The object- of such an Association were fully appreci- 
ated by Mr. Everett ; and. from the very commencement 
of its meetings, bis polished eloquence and rare conversa- 
tional powers have greatly contributed to its success. 
Especially to be remembered are the noble eulogies in 
which he commemorated the removal by death of several 
prominent members of our Club ; and we all remember, 
with gratitude and admiration, the splendid tribute 1 . 
which, on the late decease of Mr. Frederic Tudor, he 
paid to the memory of the friend at whose house, only 
two weeks before, we had been so hospitably entertained. 
His illustrations of literary and historical subjects, with 
which be constantly favored us. are among the happiest 
reminiscences of our meetings ; always felicitous in them- 
selves, and often doubly impressive as emanating from 
one who had himself been an actor in the scenes which 
he described. 

The first meeting of this season was held at hi- house, 
on the anniversary of the Iandinq of our pilgrim fore- 


fathers; and. in a style clear and masterly, even beyond 
liis usual manner, he drew a new and vivid picture of 
that humble beginning of our national existence. Only a 
fortnight ago to-day, L received a note from him. regret- 
ting much that ho was unable, owing to what he thought 
a slight illness, to No present at the meeting of that even- 

Of the punctuality with which, as President of the 
Chili, he opened the meetings, you are all aware ; for he 
well knew the value of time when measured by such re- 
Milts as he was accustomed to attain. 

Feeling mvself entirely incapable of doing justice to 
an occasion like this, I have yet been unwilling to let 
tin evening pass without adding my feeble testimony 
to hi- entire faithfulness as a member and presiding 
officer of this Association. I leave to a gifted mem- 
ber of our Club the grateful task of giving tit expres- 
sion to our sense of the great loss which we have sus- 

.Mr. Edwin P. Whipple said: — 

It is certainly tit. gentlemen, that the sense of bereave- 
ment which this city and the whole nation have felt in 
the death of Mr. Everett, should find emphatic expression 
in the Club of which he was the honored President. 
Known to every member as the most exquisiteh affable 
ot presiding officers ; a chairman with the gracious and 
graceful manners of a host; ever ready to listen as to 
speak ; and masking the eminence, which all were glad to 
acknowledge, in that bland and benignant courtesv. of 


which all were made to feel the charm, — his presence 
gave a peculiar dignity to our meetings which it will be 
impossible to replace, and impressed on all of us the con- 
viction, that, to his other gifts and accomplishments, must 
be added the distinction of being the most accomplished 
gentleman of his time. Indeed, it is probable, that in 
this quality of high-bred and inbred courtesy, which we 
all have such good cause to admire and to remember, 
may be found the explanation and justification of some 
things in his character and career which have been sub- 
jected to adverse and acrimonious criticism ; and, in the 
few remarks I propose to make, allow me to throw into 
relations to this felicity of his nature, the powers and 
achievements winch have made him so widely famous, 
and, what is better, so widely mourned. 

Mr. Everett was born with that fineness of mental and 
of bodily organization, the sensitiveness of which is hardly 
vet thoroughly tolerated by the world which still profits 
by its superiorities. There was refinement in the very 
substance of his being; by a necessity of his constitution 
he disposed everything he perceived into some orderly 
relations to ideas of dignity and grace ; he instinctively 
shunned what was coarse, discordant, uncomely, unbecom- 
ing ; and that internal world of thoughts, sentiments, and 
dispositions, winch each man forms or re-forms for him- 
self, and in which he really lives, in his case obeyed the 
law of comeliness, and came out as naturally in his man- 
ners as in his writings, in the beautiful urbanity of his 
behavior as in the cadenced periods of his eloquence. 
'flic fascination of this must have been felt even in his 


childhood, — for be was au orator whose infant prattle 
attracted an audience ; and he may be said to have passed 
from the cradle into public life. To a swiftness and 
accuracy of apprehension which made study the most 
delightful and self-rewarding of tasks, he added a gen- 
eral brightness, vigor, and poise of faculties, which gave 
premature promise of the reflection and judgment which 
were to come. By some sure instinct, the friends who 
seemed combined in a kindly conspiracy to assist and to 
spoil him, must have felt that they had to do with a 
nature whose innate modesty was its protection from 
conceit, and whose ambition to excel was but one form 
of its ambition for excellence. The fact to be considered 
is. that, in childhood and in youth as in manhood and 
age, there was something in him which irresistibly 
attracted admiration and esteem, and made men desir- 
ous of helping him on in the path his genius chose, and 
to the goal from which bis destiny beckoned. 

It will be impossible here to do more than indicate the 
steps of that, comprehensive career, so full of distinction 
for himself, so full of benefit to the nation, which lias 
been for the past ten days the theme of so many eulogies: 
— the college student, bearing away the highest honors 
of bis class; the boy-preacher, whose pulpit eloquence 
alternately kindled and melted men of matures! years; the 
(J reek Professor, whose knowledge of the finest and most 
flexible instrument of human thought extorted the admira- 
tion of the most accomplished of all the translators of 
Plato; the fertile Writer and wide-ranging Critic whose 
familiarity with many languages only added to the energy 


unci elegance with which he wielded the resources of his 
own: the Representative of Middlesex, whose mastery of 
the minutest details of political business was not more 
evident than his ready grasp of the broader principles of 
political science; the Governor of Massachusetts, whose 
wise and able administration gave a new impulse to the 
cause of education and to some of the most important of 
the arts of peace ; the Ambassador, who co-operated with 
bis friend, the great Secretary, in converting the provoca- 
tions to what would have been one of the most calamitous 
oi all wars into the occasion for negotiating one oi the 
most beneficent of all treaties; the President of Harvard, 
bringing back to bis Alma Mater the culture be bad 
received from her increased an hundred fold, and present- 
ing to the students the noble example of a scholarship 
which was always teaching, and therefore always learn- 
ing; the Secretary of State, whose brief possession of 
office was yet sufficient to show with what firmness of 
purpose he could uphold American honor, and with what 
prodigality of information be could expound American 
rights ; the Orator of all " occasions," scatt< ring through 
many years, and from a hundred platforms, the rich stores 
of bis varied knowledge, the ripe results of his large 
experience, and the animating inspirations of his fervid 
soul ; the Patriot, who ever made bis scholarship, states- 
manship. ;md eloquence serviceable and subsidiary to the 
interest and glory of his country, and who, when would- 
be parricides lifted their daggers to stab the august mother 
who had home them, flung himself, with a grand superi- 
ority to party prejudices, and a brave disdain of conse- 


quences to himself, into the great current of impassioned 
purpose which surged up from the nation's heroic li- 
the Christian philanthropist, who, through a long life, 
had been the object of no insult or wrong which could 
rouse in him the fierce desire for vengeance, and whose 
last public effort was a magnanimous pica for that " retal- 
iation" which Christianity both allows and enjoins: — all 
these claim- to honor, all this multiform and multiplied 
activity, have been the subjects of eager and emulous 
panegyric; and little has been overlooked in the loving 
and grateful survey. 

Such a career implies the most assiduous self-culture ; 
but it was a culture free from the fault of intellectual 
selfishness, for it was not centred in itself, but pursued 
with a view to the public service; and the thirst for 
acquisition was not stronger than the ardor for communi- 
cation. Such a career also implies a constant state of 
preparation for public duties; but only by those whose 
ambition is to get office, rather than to get qualified for 
office, will this peculiarity be sneeringly imputed to a love 
of display. Still, the vast publicity which such a career 
rendered inevitable would have developed in him some of 
the malignant or some of the frivolous vices of public life, 
had it not been that a fine modesty tempered his constanl 
sense of personal efficiency, — had it not been that a cer- 
tain shyness at the core of his being made it impossible 
that his self-reliance should rush rudely out in any of the 
brazen forms of self-assertion. And this brings me back 
to that essential gentlematrliness of nature, which pene- 
trated every faculty, and lent its tone to every expression 


of our departed President. This gave him a most sensi- 
tive regard for the rights and feelings of others, and this 
made him instinctively expect the same regard for his 
own. He guarded with an almost jealous vigilance the 
resi rves of his individuality, and resented all uncouth or 
unwarranted intrusion into these sanctuaries which his 
dignity shielded, with a feeling of grieved surprise. In 
his wide converse with men, even in the contentions of 
part}', his mind ever moved in a certain ideal region of 
mutual courtesy and respect. It was to lie anticipated. 
that, in the rough game of politics, where blows are com- 
monly given and received witli equal carelessness, and 
where mutual charges of dishonesty are both expected and 
unheeded, such a nature as Air. Everett's should sometimes 
suffer exquisite pain ; that his nerves should quiver in 
impatient disgust of such odious publicity; that he should 
be tempted at times to feel that the inconsiderate assailers 
of his character — 

'• Made it seem more sweet ti> be 
The little life of bank and brier, 
The bird that pipes bi- lone desire, 

And dies unheard within his tree — 

" Than he who warbles long and loud, 
And drops at Glory's temple-gates; 
For whom the carrion-vulture waits 
I o tear his heart before the crowd ! " 

In this sensitiveness, refinement, and courtesj of nature, 
in this chivalrous respect for other minds, and tenderness 


for other hearts, is to be found the peculiarity of his ora- 
tory. Hi 1 was the last great master of persuasive elo- 
quence. The circumstances of the time have given to 
our public speaking an aggressive and denouncing char- 
acter, and invective has contemptuously cast persuasion 
aside, and almost reduced it to the condition of one of the 
lost arts. This is undoubtedly a great evil, for invective 
commonly dispenses with insight, is impotent to interpret 
what it assails, and tits the tongue of mediocrity as readily 
as that of genius. It is true that the mightiest exemplars 
of eloquence have been those who have wielded this most 
terrific weapon in the armory of the orator with the most 
overwhelming effect. Demosthenes, Chatham, Burke, 
Mirabeau, men of vivid minds, hot hearts, and audacious 
will-, have made themselves the terror of the assemblies 
they ruled, by their power of uttering those brief and 
dreadful invectives, which " appall the guilty and make 
bold the free," — which come like the lightning, irradiat- 
ing for an instant what in an instant they blast. Perhaps 
the noblest spectacle in the annals of eloquence is that in 
which the mute rage and despair of a hundred millions 
nt' isiatics found, in the assembly responsible for their 
oppression, fiery utterance from the intrepid lips of Burke, 
lint such men are rightly examples only to their peers; 
a certain autocracy of nature is the animating principle of 
their genius ; and, when they are copied simply by the 
tongue, they are likely to produce shrews rather than 
sages. Mr. Everett followed the bent of his character and 
the law of his mind when he aimed to enter into genial 
relations with bis auditors, and to associate the 1 reception 


of his views with a quickening of their better feelings, 
and an addition to their self-respect. Mount Vernon, the 
poor of East Tennessee, the poor of Savannah, attest that 
his greatest triumphs were those of persuasion. And in 
recalling the tones of that melodious voice, whose words 
were thus works, one is tempted to think that Force, in 
eloquence, is the mailed giant of the feudal age, who, 
assailing under a storm of missiles the fortress of his 
adversary, makes the tough gates shiver under the 
furiously rapid strokes of his battle-axe, and enters as 
a victor; while Persuasion, " with his garland and singim? 
robes about him," speaks the magical word which makes 
the gates fly open of their own accord, and enters as a 

It is but just, gentlemen, that our lamented President, 
the source of so many eulogies, should now lie their 
theme; that his joy in recognizing eminencv in others 
should he met by a glad and universal recognition of it in 
himself. And. certainly, that spotless private and dis- 
tinguished public life could have closed at no period when 
the heart of the whole loyal nation was more eager to 
admire the genius of the orator, and sound the praises 
of the patriot, and laud the virtues of the man. than on 
the day when his mortal frame, beautiful in life and 
beautiful in death, was followed by that long procession 
of bereaved citizens, through those mourning streets, to 
that consecrated grave ! 


Bishop Eastburn said : — 

1 ask the indulgence of my fellow- members of the Club 
for a few moments, while I add to the eloquent words 
that have been spoken, my own humble tribute to the 
memory of our late illustrious President. Mr. Everett 
was kind enough once to say to me, that he wished I 
would sometimes otter something, at these meetings, as 
a contribution toward- the instruction of those who should 
be present. My reply to him was, that, surrounded as I 
always found myself here by so much science and wisdom. 
I felt disposed rather to sit as a silent listener; and I can- 
not help a solemn and tender feeling in the reflection, that 
when now, for the first time, 1 am complying with his 
request, it is to utter a few words of remembrance over 
his recently opened grave. 

I beg to call your attention, gentlemen, in the few 
words I shall say, to one or two points in Mr. Everett's 
illustrious career which have not been dwelt upon by the 
speakers who have just addressed us, — and which seem 
to me to present him in an aspect eminently worthy of 
study by the rising youth of this nation. 

I very often thought, during the life of our distinguished 
President, and have thought more' especially since his 
death, of the shining example he has set of the assiduous 
cultivation of classical learning, as the chief ingredient 
in efficient education, and as the great means of giving 
superior abilities a commanding influence over men. It 
was this that gave the charm to Mr. Everett's oratory, and 
carried home with power his advocacy, as a statesman, of 


public measures, and his addresses in behalf of those 
efforts for the relief of suffering humanity to which he 
devoted the closing years of his life. He seemed to enter 
fully into those views of the advantage of classical pur- 
suits put forth by the great Sir Robert Peel, in a discourse 
delivered bj him on being installed as Lord Rector of the 
University of Glasgow, and which I remember reading 
many years ago, — where he speaks of the benefits of 
classical, as distinguished from mere mathematical train- 
ing ; and shows the tendency of the latter to narrow the 
mind, and to indispose it. in regard to a certain class of 
subjects, to receive any other than a species of evidence 
of which these subjects are not susceptible. But, besides 
this. Sir Robert exhibited, in a striking manner, tin- in- 
estimable value of tin- study of the great masters, by a 
review of the course of Cicero, whose wonderful orator) 
received its perfection, and its power of swaying men- 
from his cultivation of the great models of Grecian poetrj 
and eloquence. Now Mr. Everett, as I have said, is a 
great example in this respect, and ought to be held up as 
such before the young men of this land. And, if he shall 
be generally followed, we shall hear less, in the pulpit, 
on the platform, and on deliberative floors, of that rant 
and bombast which pass with some for eloquence, hut 
which are as offensive to good taste as they are barren of 
effect. Mr. Bullock, in his address at Faneuil Hall on 
the day before the funeral of our departed President, 
dwelt with great force and eloquence upon this way in 
which .Mr. Everett trained himself for influence, — show- 
ing that his classical finish was not something standing by 


itself, and apart from his distinction as a statesman, hut 
was the main clement in creating that distinction, and in 
giving him the power which he possessed in his signal 
public career. And. gentlemen, who lias not felt the 
control exerted by his brilliant, yet restrained, chastened, 
and simple diction? His oratory, sparkling with orna- 
ment as it was, was at the same time a perfect specimen 
of the simplex munditiis. So that, whenever we heard 
him, it was like looking at some noble Grecian temple, 
in the presence of which the eye is not distracted hither 
and thither by tawdry and vulgar details, but takes in at 
once the exquisite whole, and is charmed with the beaut} 
of its architectural lines, and the fair symmetry of it ^ pro- 

But, before 1 I sit down, allow me to detain you for a few 
moments longer by reminding you of another feature of 
Mr. Everett's career, which ought to he impressed on the 
youth of this country. I refer to the fact, that this great 
man achieved his triumphs, and produced the results 
which we have witnessed, by a life of constant and 
laborious industry, lie eminently taught by his example, 
that they who would either attain eminence, or, what is 
infinitely more important, would urge mankind onward 
to noble purposes, must not rely upon the native genius 
with which God has gifted them, but must discipline their 
faculties by unremitted labor. My first sight of Mr. 
Everett was forty-three years ago, when, in 1822, he came 
to New York to deliver the Sermon at the opening of a. 
place of worship of his denomination. I had not then 
entered on my own professional course; and. with the 


curiosity and enthusiasm of a youth desirous of getting a 
mar sight of so eminent a man, — for even then he was 
eminent, although but twenty-eight years of age, — I tools 
;i position, after the service was over, in the porch, in 
order that I might study Ids countenance as he passed out 
into the street ; — and, as lie walked by me with his slen- 
der form, in gown and band, with his curling auburn hair, 
and bis fine contour of bead and features, I thought him 
the most attractive specimen of radiant classical beauty I 
bad ever beheld in my life. Now. gentlemen, many of us 
have been witnesses of bis course from that morning of 
bis life down to its recent close. And what has this 
course been ! Has it been an indolent resting upon the 
consciousness of great natural endowments? No. lias 
it been a course marked by fitful and impulsive resort to 
study? Xo. It has been a life of unintermitted labor — 
of continual storing of the mind — of daily addition to 
that wealth of resources which was to be the instrument 
of power. I have touched upon this feature of Mr. 
Everett's distinguished life, because, as I have already 
observed, I think it should be placed distinctly before the 
young men of this country; showing them for their in- 
struction, that influence, and consequent usefulness, 
come not from intellect alone, however marvellous, but 
from intellect disciplined, regulated, and made efficient, 
by the toil which ' scorns delights, and lives laborious 

I thank you for the permission to present these thoughts 
to your attention ; for I felt that I could not refrain from 
adding mv bumble tribute to this remarkable man. here 


in one of those assemblies which he has so often adorned 
with his presence, and charmed with the contributions of 
his eloquent lips. 

Dr. A. A. Gould said: — 

I am sure that each one of us hero associated must feel 
thankful to the gentlemen who have so faithfully and 
gratefully delineated the exalted character of our late 
President, and especially as they recall to us his interest 
in our meetings, and the many contributions he himself 
made for our entertainment and edification. The break- 
ing out of the rebellion bore so heavily on his health and 
spirits, that he expressed some misgivings as to his ability 
to meet with us, and even as to the judiciousness of con- 
tinuing the meetings of the Club. At the preliminary 
meeting this year, however, he seemed quite enthusiastic 
in view of our coming entertainments ; mid you will all 
of you attest to the peculiar geniality with which he 
opened our winter's gatherings at his own house. 

1 venture to propose, wh'at I have no doubt will find an 
affirmative response from every one, that the gentlemen 
who have addressed us be requested to furnish copies id' 
their remarks, to be transmitted to the family of our late 
President, as a testimonial, from the members of this 
Club, id' their deep sense of indebtedness to him for his 
countenance, and his num< rous instructive ami entertain- 
ing contributions at their meetings, as well as of his 
exalted private worth and public eminence. 





A special meeting of the Board of Directors of the New England 
Historic-Genealogical Society was held on Tuesday afternoon, 
January 17, 1865, to take uotice of the death of the Hon. Edward 
Everett, a member of the Society from the year of its organization. 
William I!. Towne was called to the chair, and William Reed 
Deane was appointed secretary pro tempore. 

John II. Sheppard, the librarian, introduced the subject by these 
remarks : — 

The sudden death of the Hon. Edward Everett has 
called us together not merely to testify our deep sorrow 
for the loss of a most influential and honored member of 
our Society, but, with other numerous institutions, to offer 
our humble tribute of respect to the memory of a very 
eminent man of our common country. A great light lias 
gone down in our political heavens : a star of the first 
magnitude, admired at home and among foreign nations. 
whose brillianl rays of science and eloquence have adorned 
this Western Hemisphere and made a luminous path, has 
set forever. Our nation has met with an irreparable loss, 
and particularly in these dark days and troublous times of 


an unholy rebellion, when his counsels and voice are so 
much needed. Mis death has cast a gloom over society 
through the length and breadth of the laud. It will be 
fell in the Cabinet, in the national and legislative halls, on 
the battle-field, and everywhere; for his eloquence was 
everywhere heard, as it were, on the wings of the press, 
speaking with the voice of one going about to do good ; 
and in no place will bis death be more lamented than in 
a sister city, to relieve which the very last hours of his 
exceedingly busy and energetic life were devoted ; yes, the 
tears of Savannah will gush forth at the sad news. 

Mr. Everett has left us a striking example that old age 
does not necessarily impair the intellectual powers, when 
they have been vigorously kept in exercise. In his seventy- 
first year, his talents were bright and active as ever, and 
his judgment and imagination retained the full power of 
bis earlier days. He was, indeed, in sc ipso toius, teres atque 
rotundus ; there was a wholeness, a polish, and a round- 
ness in his character, wherein all the rough edges and 
sharp angles so often met with, even among distinguished 
men, were softened into a pleasing smoothness. On this 
melancholy occasion we can only present a few resolu- 
tions, echoing the words of universal sorrow ; and though 
they cannot add to the fame of the illustrious dead, yet 
they may evince our grief and sympathy. 

.Mr. Shertparil then offered the following resolutions: — 

Resolved, That, in the death of Hon. Edward Everett, this 
Society, oi which he was a resident member for nineteen 
years, deplores a great loss. 

Resolved, That, in his death, literature and science are 
called to mourn the departure of a very distinguished 
scholar and accomplished writer, whose purity and ele- 
gance of taste, richness of imagination, affluence of lan- 
guage, and flowing, fascinating style, would, without anj 
other mark of distinction or celebrity, have made him 
an honor and an ornament to our country. 

Resolved. That, in his death, the voice of a most eloquent 
man is silent, — a voice which left no superior, if, indeed, 
it did an equal in this land, and which was ever exerted in 
the cause of all that is good or excellent, pertaining to a 
nation's welfare. 

Resolved, That, in the death of this statesman and pa- 
triot, the whole nation has reason to weep and lament ; for 
his exalted love of the Union gave to his voice and 
counsels a peculiar importance in the present great strug- 
gle to preserve our nationality from destruction. 

Resolved, That, in his death, we deplore the loss id' a 
citizen of most exemplary virtues, indefatigable industry, 
and faithful adherence to those noble principles of justice 
and honor, from the prevalence only of which a nation 
can become great and glorious 

Resolved, That we respectfully tender our sympathies to 
the bereaved family. 

Resolved, That, in testimony of our veneration of the 
memory of the deceased, we will attend Ids funeral on 
Thursday next ; and also, that a copy of these Resolutions 
he presented to his family. 


MEMOlil \l- "1 EDW UiD EVERETT. 

After remarks bv Samuel G. Drake, Rev. Elias Xason, John 
II. Sheppard, Frederic Kidder, John Ward I lean, William 11. 
Trask, William Reed Dcane, and the presiding officer, the Resolu- 
tions were unanimously adopted. 





The members having been notified of the death of their former 
President, Hon. Edward Everett, assembled in their Hall at two 
o'clock, P. M. Hon. Stephen Salisbury, the President, occupied 
the chair. On account of the illness of Hon. Levi Lincoln, whose 
relations with Mr. Everett had been many and important, the 
meeting was adjourned to ( rovernor Lincoln's residence. After call- 
ing tlie Society to order the President spoke as follows : — 

Brethren or the American Antiquarian Society: — 

While the voices of our people express their sorrow 
and deep concern that one of our most exalted citizens, 
who swayed the opinions and destiny of our country from 
a sphere above the distractions of political life and the 
envious assaults with which public office is infested, I 
have invited you to assemble here, not to forget your 
duties and intere>t> as citizens, but to remember that this 
little company of students of history and antiquarian lore 
have lost their honored Ex-President, Edward Everett, 
the associate who had the greatest present ability to pro- 
mote the objects of your association. The eloquence 


that honored the obsequies of the Nestor of your Society, 
the (Ion. Josiab Quincy, still reechoes in your printed 
proceedings, meeting a cordial reception wherever learn- 
ing, virtue, and a laborious, conscientious, and beneficent 
life are held in honor. He stood among us in the majesty 
and gathered wisdom of 94 years, and his wise counsels 
faltered on his lips when he hoard the summons for which 
he waited and hastened away. And now a second time 
the solemn warning of Providence has addressed this Soci- 
ety, and from the clear sky in which no threatening (loud 
was apparent, another distinguished leader of this frater- 
nity has been struck down. The last act of his life was 
to plant sweet Christian charity among the sufferings and 
crimes of wicked and treacherous rebellion, and this effort 
is a possible cause of his sudden, and, as we in our igno- 
rance and impatience are prone to say. his untimely de- 
parture. Let us rather repeat the familiar words of the 
old Roman, that " he was not more happy in the glory of 
his life than in the occasion of his death." lint I will 
not detain you with my own unsatisfactory words from 
the utterance of thoughts more worthy of your own feel- 
ings and of the occasion. In my desire to forward the 
deliberations of the hour, I will venture to offer the fol- 
lowing resolutions : — 

The American Antiquarian Society, being convened to 
take notice of the sudden death of their honored Ex-Presi- 
dent, Edward Everett, LL. 1)., who was for nine years 
Secretary for foreign Correspondence, and afterward- for 
twelve years the President, it was thereupon 

Resolred, That we deeply sympathize in the universal 


grief of our country, that a patriot has hern taken away 
in the fullest strength and glory of his beneficent service, 
and his mantle is not seen to fall on an\ successor. 

Resolved, That with our lamentations for a great public 
loss, we will gratefully consider the noble works which 
he has recently performed in the defence of our govern- 
ment and our national privileges ; in the vindication of 
the right and the safety of five institutions, and in the 
thrice repeated lessons of charity and Christian forgive- 
ness, enforced by his own unequalled and persuasive 

Resolved, That we will embalm with the odor of our 
exalted praise the memory of an orator who always car- 
ried his admiring listeners to higher and happier planes 
of thought ; a scholar of incessant and unwearied labor. 
who brought up his deep-sought treasures with a fitness 
and polish that adapted them to the handling and uses ot 
common life, and a man who exercised his great powers 
for useful ends with a kind and cautions prudence and 
constant regard for Christian purity. 

Resolved, That it is our privilege to offer a chaplet of 
honor and fraternal grief at the tomb of our Ex-President, 
who gave -to this Society the advantage of the highest 
official relations for twenty-one years, and has since been 
a fellow-worker by his constant contributions, ami espe- 
cially by his frequent and successful pursuit of the objects 
for which this association was formed. 

Resolved, That we offer to the children of our respected 
associate our sincere condolence, and commend them to 
the highest Source of consolation. 


Resolved, That as ;i Society, we will express our respect 
by attending the funeral of Air. Everett on Thursday the 
IDth instant. 

Resolved, That the President of this Society is requested 
to transmit a copy of the above resolutions to the family 
of our deceased associate. 

The resolutions having been seconded by Rev. Seth Sweetscr, 
I >.!>., the chair was addressed l>v l>r. Sweetscr, Rev. Dr. Alonzo 
Hill, Hon. [saac Davis, Hun. Ira M. Barton, Hon. Levi Lincoln, 
and Hon. Henry Cliapin ; after which the resolutions were unani- 
mously adopted. 

Rev. Dr. Sweetser spoke in substance as follows : — 

Mr. President: It seems hardly fitting that I should 
occupy a moment of the time of this meeting. My rela- 
tions with the distinguished ex-president of this Society 
were not such as to justify it. It has not been my privi- 
lege to come within the circle of his friendship, or to 
be associated with him, as others here present have been, 
in public services. It would be presumptuous in me to 
speak of a personal acquaintance with Mr. Everett. And 
yet, sir, in common with the multitude of his friends, 1 
have felt an admiration for his character and attainments. 

Since the intelligence of his sudden death reached and 
saddened us, my thoughts have been carried back to the 
period of my first knowledge of him. At the time of 
m\ entering college he occupied the chair of Greek Liter- 
ature in Harvard University, and I well remember the 
enthusiasm which he kindled, and the admiration with 


which lie inspired those who listened to him, and how his 
lecture-room was thronged; and I remember also what 
deep regret was felt by the whole college at his with- 
drawal from the Professorship, which took place soon 

We were young and not fitted to appreciate the capacity 
of such a mind, or to measure the fulness and richness 
of his classical culture, or the beauty and art with which 
he displayed the intellectual and literary treasures of 
that land of beauty and art which, to this day. has never 
found a rival. 

It was the universal feeling that the department and 
the college itself had lost the service of one who, by his 
varied attainments and scholarship, was eminently fitted 
to elevate the tone of classical learning, and inspire an 
interest in the literature of Greece. The regret was 
general, and I cannot refrain from saying, that with me 
it has never ceased. But, sir, though removed to the stir 
and agitating scenes of public life, his eminent abilities 
were not lost. I will not speak of his services in the 
important positions which he has occupied in the State 
and the Nation. There are other gentlemen here who 
are better able to do that than I am. I will speak only 
of his scholarship. 

lie was always a scholar. l\v was a student in the 
fullest sense of the word. He never failed in his allegi- 
ance to scholarship. Under all circumstances he exhib- 
ited the same purity and richness, the same grace and 
elegance. Everything he did was done in the spirit and 
tone of a true scholarship. Whether he addressed the 


senate or the popular assembly, or spoke in associations 
of literary and scientific men. or in the courts of law, 
there was the same completeness and accuracy. AN liat- 
ever was possible to diligence and assiduous culture he 
attained. Whatever could he accumulated by persistenl 
research he acquired. 

We have not been in the habit of looking upon Mr. 
Everett as possessing that boldness and force which push 
out beyond the ordinary range of thought; we have not 
classed him with the minds which extend the boundaries 
of human knowledge, lie was not of that adventurous 
wing which shoots up above the flight and sight of other 
men. But if he had not these qualities lie had what is 
perhaps more worthy of honor and admiration, lie had 
the power of acquiring and accumulating, the faculty 
of retaining, arranging, and using, whatever could he 
gathered up by unwearied and diversified study, lie was 
everything that labor and severe training, and the unfal- 
tering pursuit of his object could make him. 

Some years since Mr. Everett was invited, as gentle- 
men in his position frequently are. to address the Massa- 
chusetts Bible Society at an anniversary meeting in Boston. 
1 heard him on that occasion. He spoke from the plat- 
form as other gentlemen did, connecting his remarks with 
those of previous speakers, giving the usual appearance 
of extemporaneousness to his address. 

A friend asked him for his notes, and his manuscript 
was. ] apprehend, an index to all his performances. It 


was carefully written and elaborated; words were scL i 
with exeat skill and discrimination; some were erased and 
others inserted in their stead ; and this exactness in the 
choice of language, in some instances, was carried to the 
fourth and fifth erasure. This was one of the sources of 
his success. lie never trusted to the uncertainty (if hasty 
unpremeditated utterances. He finished and perfected 
with accuracy and the most studious ait. tie spared no 
toil or pains in preparation. He always knew his subject, 
hi- audience, and the occasion. It was in this way that 
he was so successful as a public speaker. The rich stores 
nt' his classical reading and the treasures of literature and 
science were at his disposal. His wide cultivation, and 
the perfection of his exercise in speech, enabled him to 
express in the most persuasive and eloquent form the 
instructions he imparted. 

Now that he i- no more with us, as we recall his 
genius, his acquisitions, his diligence, we look back upon 
him as furnishing to us and coming generations an unsur- 
passed model in the art of eloquence. 

This Society, a- an association of scholars, the univer- 
sity which nurtured him. all lovers of good learning, the 
whole republic of letters, tin: Commonwealth which gave 
him birth, and which he so nobly served, and the whole 
country, owe to him a debt of honor and of gratitude. 

lb' has been suddenly taken from us. It is not for us 
to question the propriety of the time of his departure; 
but for this we have occasion to lie thankful, that he was 
not taken until he had rendered a service to his country 
in it-, great perils which endears him to the heart of even 


true lover of the Union, and which will prove the freshest 
and most enduring brightness in the chaplet of his future 

Rev. Dr. Hill said: — 

Mr. President : Since the death of Mr. Adams in the 
rotunda of our Capitol, in Washington, seventeen years 
ago, no event has produced so profound a sensation as 
the sudden demise of the revered ex-president of this 
Society. When Mr. Webster died he had lingered ; and 
his death was not unexpected nor unprepared for. But 
Mr. Everett passed in a moment from the midst of the 
activities of life, while his mind was teeming with mighty 
projects of usefulness, while his last noble speech in 
behalf of forgiveness and charity and the pacification of 
the country, was still throbbing on the telegraph wires 
and thrilling the heart of a continent. 

I did not know him intimately. — perhaps (e\v did. 
But my memory goes far back in his personal history; I 
have followed him with admiration and been held captive 
by the power of his soft persuasion, with thousands of 
others, to the last. I have heard him in the pulpit; and 
hi- youthful figure, cut with classical elegance and set 
forth with the high polish of art. as he stood in the desk 
of the college chapel, is still before me ; and whole pas- 
sages of his sermons on those occasions, fascinating with 
their splendid rhetoric and pronounced with inimitable 
grace of utterance, are still fresh in my recollection. I 
w;i> among the privileged few who heard his brilliant 
course of lectures on Greek Literature on his return from 


Athens, whose delivery marked for us a new era in our 
mental history. I have listened to most, and have read 
all of his more elaborate orations, delivered at different 
periods, on almost every variety of subjects, and have 
always come away from the hearing or the reading his 
debtor. 1 have been present for several years at the 
meetings of literary and benevolent associations of which 
he was a member, and have noticed his fidelity, the 
readiness with which he consecrated bis great power- to 
their welfare, and the intelligence and earnest devotion 
with which he attended to the little details connected 
with their prosperity. I wish to sa} a tew words here 
as a grateful tribute to his memory. 

Many years ago, when be was a very young man, he 
was addressing an assembl) of Boston merchants whom 
he had invited to meet him at Faneuil Hall, and whom lie 
was endeavoring to persuade to purchase for the use of 
Harvard College, a work of art, the Panorama of Athens, 
I think it was. which had just arrived from Greece. He 
was -bowing the value of art in a young community like 
our own, and in the course of his argument put the 
question into the mouth of his hearers. "What is it good 
for I" 1 shall never forget the force of manner and exp 
sion which he threw into his reply, put also into the form 
of a question, " What is anything good for except as it 
refines and ennobles and brings out the divine in man ?" 
line we have the key-note which guided, the undertone 
which sounded through his whole subsequent life. In all 
hi- speeches, written and unwritten, in all the works that 
he did through a period of fifty year-, how have they 


conspired for the uplifting and refining of our nature. 
Point to the word, if you can, employed to disguise the 
truth, or suggest the thought which one might not 
breathe into the cars of saintly purity. Put your finger, 
you cannot, upon the passage set round with the spears 
and darts of detraction, serving to arouse a base passion 
and to make us less humane. How many will you find, 
all scattered through his living example and published 
works, which are a noble appeal to our higher sentiments, 
and make us love with a deeper sensibility whatever is 
beautiful in nature and refined in life. Early moulded by 
the models of Grecian art and culture, familiar with the 
best thoughts and noblest sentiments of all ages, sparing 
no labor to perfect what he undertook to say and do. he 
poured forth his honeyed accents, lifted up. electrified, and 
melted us by the gorgeous imagery and beautiful dra- 
pery with which he clothed his thought — but touched us 
the more deeply because of this undertone of high Chris- 
tian sentiment which breathed, and this coloring of Chris- 
tian faith aud hope which glowed, through his best 

How broad, how varied, were bis accomplishments. 

lie seems to have studied every subject, and gone to its 
depths. Read his lectures before the Mechanics', the Mer- 
cantile, and Library Associations, his addresses before 

Agricultural Societies, and his debates in Congress. lie 
goes into the details of science, the theory of trade, the 
methods of raising crops, and the ways of public policy, 
as if each profession bad been his especial pursuit and he 
had devoted himself to nothing: else. lie shows a siir- 


prising familiarity with every department of knowledge, 
and speaks of its practical working as if lie had been 
engaged in the occupation all his life. But he docs more 
than this. He goes into the soul of the thing, and shows 
how the mechanic and the merchant, the tanner and legis- 
lator, may transform their callings into liberal pursuits and 
make them tributary to the individual growth and the 
moral and spiritual elevation of the community. 

So also in the refined integrity of his life, his sympathy 
with the tine arts, and the devotion of his rich accomplish- 
ments to the ornament of the Republic, we see the same 
t aim throughout. lie was the friend of Canova, 
and the intimate of some of the most gifted of the modern 
poets. He was practised in modern languages so that he 
could talk with the ambassadors at the court of St. .lames, 
each in his own tongue. He had carefully studied in the 
galleries of art, and in the associations in London com- 
manded, it is said, high respect for the accuracy of his 
judgment and taste, and was an authority there among the 
lovers of painting and sculpture. But here he was true too 
to the early expressed purpose of his lite. He was no 
hermit. He did not keep his high gifts for his own uses 
and enjoyment ; but spread them abroad, as a sweet fra- 
grance, tor all who would receive them. No man was 
summoned so often as he. to speak to his fellow- citizens 
— to interpret the meaning of great historical events and 
mould them to the time; and no man could do more to 
make them memorable by the vividness oi bis imagina- 
tion ami the affluence of his speech. Though he spoke 
SO often, to hear Mr. K\erett was an era in one's life. 


Pictures were drawn upon the tablets of the heart, never 
to be erased; for with him eloquence was a divine 
endowment, and must be used only to refine, elevate, and 
perfect the soul of man. 

For, as L have already intimated, I do not believe he 
ever forgot his accountability for his great gifts, or relax i d 
in his reverence for all that is Christian in belief and 
spiritual in life and hope. He seemed to me to lean more 
than most great men for personal guidance and support 
on the influence of his traditionary faith. Early attracted 
l'\ the fascination and fervid friendship of v oung Buck- 
minster, whose successor he was. at the unripe age oi 
nineteen, over the most influential congregation in Boston, 
he never forgot his first love, nor wavered in his attach- 
ment to Christian institutions and the means of Christian 
culture; but through a varied experience at home and 
abroad, under circumstances of great temptation, remained 
true to his early convictions — showing by the consistency 
and integrity of his daily walk the depth of those convic- 
tions. \\ hen I have preached in the church in which he 
worshipped, he was always there, forenoon and afternoon 
— devout, reverential, and bending his active and affluent 
mind to a part in the services, lie did not. I thought, oc- 
cupy his pew merely for example's sake ; but sat lowly, as 
needing help like the rest of us — composed in prayer, 
and when the lesson of the day was read — true also to 
his scholarly habits, following it in the ' freek Testament, 
which he kept b\ his side. This may seem a small mat- 
ter, but it means much. For when I remember how often 
great scholars, surrounded bv their rich libraries, attract- 


cd bv the fascination of letters, and borne on the tide of 
popularity and abundant -uric--, sufficient of themselves, 
have been allured awaj from the highest objects of inter- 
est, I can honor the illustrious man. who remained stead- 
fast to the offices of the Church, and confessed his 
need of ministrations which have been the guide and 
solace of those who possessed no book but one ; — minis- 
trations which have done so much for the good order. 
moral and spiritual strength of New England, and made 
her what she is. Mr. Everett was never -educed by his 
classical studies nor the philosophies of the day from the 
d< eper philosophy of Jesus of Xazareth, but by the 
itness of the contrast could all the more appreciate 
the unrivalled beauty and grandeur of his simplest utter- 
ances; and so when the cry of woe came up from the 
bosom of those who had just now been our enemies, and 
a plea must be made for forgiveness and charity, he found 
no fitting language in heathen poet or orator — but 
i> 1" ated with a pathos and power which moved the vast 
assembly who heard, the words in which the great apostle 
has embodied the very soul of his Master, " If thine 
enemy hunger feed him. If he thirst give him drink." 
For the last time lie spoke in the name and spirit of 
Christ, and never had he spoken so persuasively. 

Hut lie has gone. In the silence of the night, before 
the Sabbath dawned, the great soul, that never tired 
before, went to its rest. And you have done well. Mr. 
President, in your admirable remarks, to quote in their 
English dress the fitting words of Tacitus, with whom he 
was so familiar — " FeVx non vit<e tantum claritate s<<<l 


ctiam opport imitate mortis.' 1 lie i« gone, the finished 
scholar, the consummate orator, the consistent Christian; 
and he should sleep to-day, as Prescott, dying, expressed a 
wish to do in his, in that magnificent library — which has 
been the scene of his vigils, his labors, and his successes. 
To-day, lying in his sacred repose, he should be surround- 
ed b\ the noble array of scholars, artists, and poets, who, 
having inspired him in life, might, look down upon him 
from the alcoves and walls of that library, in the stillness 
of death. To-morrow, friends will tenderly bear him to 
Mount Auburn, where his masters and early companion-, 
have gone before, and where living scholars and a grate- 
ful people will go to mourn over and catch inspiration 
from the foremost man that has been anions us. 

Hun. Isaac Davis spoke thus : — 

Mr. President: The sad and solemn dispensation of 
Divine Providence, which has so suddenly removed from 
earth to his eternal home one of the brightest ornaments 
of our race, (ouches the sensibilities and awakens the 
sympathies of scholars and statesmen, poets and orators. 
patriots and freemen, — of all who read or speak the 
English tongue. 

Scarcely has the tomb closed over the remains of one of 
the most gifted sons of Massachusetts, who was a member 
of this Society, when it again opens to receive a ripi 
scholar, a distinguished orator, a devoted patriot and 
Christian gentleman, who was for many years its Presi- 


lew men of our country — very few — will till so large 
a space in the histor) of the nineteenth century as Edward 
Everett. At the carl) age of seventeen he was graduated 
at [Iarvard University with its highest honors; and first 
turning his attention to theology, became pastor of our 
of the largest churches in Boston. The Professorship of 
Greek Literature having been tendered to him by his 
Alma Muter, with the privilege of visiting Europe to 
qualify himself more fully for the office, he resigned his 
pastorate at the nge *>( twenty and repaired to the I ni- 
vcrsitv of Gottingen, where for two years he assiduously 
pursued the studies connected with the duties of the new 
office. He afterwards visited Greece and other parts of 
Europe ; and returning to America at the age of twenty- 
five entered upon the labors of bis professorship. He 
soon became editor of the Xorth American Review, 
which under Ins care attained to its highest reputation 
and widest circulation; while his lectures on Greek lit- 
erature and ait gave him great distinction as a profound 
and finished scholar. In 1824, before the Phi Beta 
Kappa Society of the University, he commenced that, 
series of public addresses on various subjects which have 
given him such an exalted fame as an orator, lie was 
elected to Congress by the unsolicited votes of the citi- 
zens of Middlesex in the same year; and for ten years 
was a working member, prominent among the distin- 
guished men. of that body, lie retired from Congress, 
and for four successive vears was elected Governor of' 
Massachusetts. In was appointed Minister to 
the Court of St. James, where be remained four years,. 


While in England his accomplishments became Known to 
statesmen and scholars. They were recognized by the 
Universities of Cambridge and Oxford; each conferring 
upon him the honorary degree of D. C. L., a distinction 
which. 1 believe, had been conferred by them on no other 
American citizen. In 1846, he was chosen President of 
Harvard University, and devoted himself to the discharge 
of the delicate and responsible duties of that office till his 
resignation in 1849. On the death of Mr. Webster he 
was appointed Secretary of State of the United States. 
On a change of Administration he took his seat in the 
Senate of the United States as successor to lion. John 
Davis, wlio had succeeded him as President of this Soci- 
ety. In 1854, he was compelled 1>\ the state of his 
health to retire to private life. In his orations on the 
lite and character of Washington subsequently delivered, 
he faithfully and eloquently warned the citizens of the 
Republic against secession or disunion and all their at- 
tendant consequences. 

These are some of the incidents in the life of this great 
man. Edward Everett is dead ; hut the influence of his 
genius and industry will live in all coming generations till 
the last succession of earth's inhabitants. 

Judge Barton said : — 

I desire Mr. President, merely to allude to my early 
recollections of .Mr. Everett, as illustrating the justness of 
the remarks of the Rev. Drs. Sweetser ami Hill, as to his 
prominent characteristics as a scholar and a man. Those 


recollections are amongst my most cherished memories, 
running back to the year 1820, when I entered the Law 
School of Harvard University. 

Mr. Everett had then just returned from his foreign 
travels, and a residence at one of the German Universities, 
preparatory to entering upon his duties as Professor of 
Greek literature. lie had previously ministered with 
great distinction in the Brattle Street Church, Boston; and 
I first saw him as the officiating clergyman in the College 
Chapel at Cambridge. It was said tube his first appear- 
ance there after his return home. And now, after a lapse 
of more than fortv years, it may be of some interest to note, 
that the text from which he discoursed was the familiar 
and beautiful scripture, " The lines have fallen unto us 
in pleasant places." Sec. The discourse demonstrated, 
that while his taste had received the highest culture, 
his love for his country had not. as is sometimes the case, 
been impaired by absence from it. 

The lectures of Mr. Everett on Greek literature, and of 
Professor Ticknor on Spanish and French literature, were 
in progress; and by a wise regulation of the College, the 
members of the Law School, as resident graduates, were 
allowed to attend them. They were of the purest models 
of English composition ; and those who failed to improve 
from such exemplars, must have been wanting either in 
taste or attention. 

Mr. Everett, though then a young man. but two or 
three years my senior, had alread) acquired a literary dis- 
tinction sufficient to satisfy the ordinary aspiration of 
scholars, as a reward for the literan labors of a whole 


life. Nevertheless, he continued to be a most diligent 
student. By a pleasant and noteworthy coincidence, he 
had for Ins study one of the spacious drawing rooms of 
the Craigie House, occupied by General Washington, 
while in Cambridge, as his Head-Quarters. Decorated 
with a large painting of the Colosseum at Rome, and 
other illustrations of ancient works of art. When he 
came from his study, Mr. Everett was always prepared 
for the occasion on which he was to appear, whether 
before the students or the public. lie never trusted to 
the inspiration of the moment for his thoughts or words. 
And yet his performances never appeared finical nor con- 
strained. He had thus early acquired that most, desirable 
literary accomplishment, '• the art ot concealing art. 
We all know the great care and labor he bestowed on his 
public literary performances in after life, as graphically 
described by Dr. Sweetser. Yet his auditors would never 
suspect the fact ; but would take all he eloquently said as 
the instant promptings of his subject and the occasion. 

The studious and somewhat retired habits ot Mr. 
Everett, and perhaps his superior position amongst his 
fellows, sometimes led to the remark that he was unsocial 
in his feelings. If by that was meant that he was cour- 
teous and dignified in his manners, and that he had little 
time or taste tor mere commonplace conversation, such 
remark had the semblance of truth. But if anything 
more was meant, the assertion was the reverse 1 ot the 

At the period referred to. there was a club of junior 
officers of the College and resident graduates, tor im- 


provement in elocution, and to socialize the young men. 
many of whom cam" together as strangers from different 
parts of the country. Mr. Everett was the originator and 
inspiring genius of the Association. On one occasion he 
recited, with amusing effect, the humorous dialogue found 
in the schoolbooks of the day, between three travellers, 
on the color of the chameleon : — 

•• Oft has it been my lot to mark 
A proud, conceited, talking spark, 
Returning from his finished tour," &c. 

The circumstance of his own recent return from a four 
or five vears' tour, witli his effective recital of the dia- 
logue, put the Association on very good terms with the 
speaker, and with each other. And I am not aware that 
any one afterwards imputed to our distinguished associate 
any improper reserve or austerity of manners. 

"With extraordinary natural talents, and such habits of 
study, added to a tine person and melodious voice, the 
friends of Mr. Everett might safely predict for him a 
successful and brilliant literary career. They were not 
disappointed. He soon became the learned man of the 
country. To say nothing of his public services, properly 
so railed, by his connection and cooperation with numer- 
ous religious, charitable, and literary institutions, at home 
and abroad, he conferred upon his country an honor, 
equalled only by the distinction he secured to himself. 

It was a. wise choice when Mr. Everett was elected the 
presiding officer of this Society, for though not devoted 
to American antiquities as a specialty, he was distin- 


guished for his antiquarian knowledge, as it related to 
both the old and the new world. And he brought to our 
aid, not merely his great reputation as a general scholar, 
but much learning appropriate to our peculiar department 
of literature. 

Mr. President, one reason for the success of Mr. 
Everett in performing the duties of life, should not be 
forgotten. It was his earl) education in Christian theol- 
ogy. Small and unprincipled men, for their own selfish 
purposes, sometimes attempted his disparagement, by 
reflecting upon his original profession as a clergyman. 
But with men of bettei minds, it was a ground for their 
respect and confidence. And while the best friends of 
Mr. Everett would not claim for him what is more than 
human, an entire immunity from errors of judgment, 
they may safely challenge the proof of an act of his life, 
in violation of the principles of Christian ethics, which 
he always and everywhere eloquently taught to others. 

The controlling influence of religious and Christian 
motives in the case of Mr. Everett, has been strikingly 
manifested in the last years of his life. What but such 
motives could induce the great labor of saving and dedi- 
cating to the memory of the father of his country, that 
most befitting monument, the acres he so much cherished 
in life at Mount Vernon I What but such motives could 
so deeply move his sympathies for his suffering country- 
men of East Tennessee '. And what motives but those 
flowing from a Christian faith, strong enough to inspire 
the eloquent lips of a dying man. to plead for the suffer- 
ers of Savannah '. Thus, cementing with a charity that 


never failctli, the Union restored by our victorious arms! 
and illustrating the brave and beautiful sentiment uttered 
1>\ Mr. Evciett while yet a young man, that "nothing is 
too "Teat to De done which is founded on truth and 
justice, and which is pursued with the meek and gentle 
spirit of ( 'hristian love " ' 

Him. Levi Lincoln spoke as follows: — 

Mr. President: The startling announcement of the 
death of the Hon. Edward Everett has occasioned 
a shock to this communi'y, from which those who have 
known him long and well have not yet been able to 

recover the calmness of entire self-possession. To such 
as were his seniors in years, and have, at any time, been 
the companions of his social hours, or his associates in 
offices of public service, the event conies with impressive 
admonition of the limitation of all human powers, and the 
transitoriness of opportunities for earthly usefulness and 
distinction. But a few days since. I met him. as an 
associate in the presidential electoral college of Massa- 
chusetts, at that time strong at least in his usual health, 
earnest as ever in patriotic duty, confident in anticipation 
of triumph and -lory to the struggling nation, and 
buoyant with the hope that he should himself live to 
rejoice in the restored Union of the states, and the uni- 
versal freedom, peace, and prosperity of the people. 
Never was he more genial in himself, or more interest- 
ing and instructive to others, than after the labors of 

; Speech ;ii Washington in 1*32, on the colonization ami civilization c.i Africa 


the day. at the festive board which his own generous 
hospitality had spread. And now. the seal of the trans- 
mitted record of his official action, on that occasion, is not 
yet broken, at the seat of government, and ho who was 
placed in honor at the head of the electoral body is no 
more of earth. So pass away the venerated and the 
loved from the scene- of their loftiest labors. 

The character of Gov. Everett is not to lie portrayed 
with thoughtless haste, or judged by the superficial views 
which the mere remembrance of brilliant qualities may 
present. With the richest intellectual endowment, 
extraordinary mental cultivation, and great aptitude for 
communication, he united a persistent labor in acquisi- 
tion, a clearness of perception, a power of analysis and 
concentration, a profoundness of thought, and a consider- 
ate judgment, which constituted in his person, a com- 
bination of virtues and graces, rarely if ever excelled. 
His early life was that of a scholar and a thinker, his 
mature years were a continued harvest of the treasures of 
learning and wisdom, which time and study and experi- 
ence garnered up. It will be the grateful office of some 
gifted biographer to present the life of Gov. Everett in 
all its attractiveness of erudite knowledge, scientific 
accomplishment, and forensic capability, with a power 
of reasoning most persuasive, and an eloquence captivat- 
ing and irresistible. 

But it is of Gov. Everett in the relations to the offices 
of public employment and trust which he sustained and 
adorned, that it rather becomes me to speak. It lias 
fallen to the lot of few men to fill so many and such 


varied appointments of confidence and high n dlity. 

His whole life was almost an unbroken public service. 
The ministry to which he was first ordained, was but a 
school of moral and Christian instruction and edification 
to others. In the university, whether as Professor or 
President, he became the educator of the rising genera- 
tion in the principles and virtues which are alike the founda- 
tion and the supports of a republican form oi government. 
In deliberative assemblies and the councils of state, his 
eminent capacity and peculiar versatility and adaptation of 
talent commended him to frequent demands for official 
service, and he idled successivelj with distinguished 
ability and conscientious fidelity, alike to his own great 
honor and the approval of the country, the offices of 
Representative in Congress, Governor of Massachusetts, 
Secretary of State of the United States, and United States 
Senator. As minister to England, he sustained the dignity 
and vindicated the rights of the nation, and happily 
maintained, with signal success, it- interest and its honor 
intact, and unimpaired by the arts and designs of an 
adverse diplomacy. And yet more recently, in this last 
great struggle for very existence, into which our once 
united and prosperous country lias been most wickedly 
and deplorabh plunged by plotting treason and flagrant 
rebellion, who more loyally patriotic; who more effi- 
ciently active and influential in support of the Govern- 
ment and in defence of the Republic than Edward 
Everett! It may not be doubted that his words of 
wondrous eloquence will do much, where even tbe mis- 
siles of war would lie unheeded, to disabuse prejudice 


and disarm hostility in the rebel states. The Mount 
Vernon fund, and the contributions to the relief of the 
Tennessee refugees, emphatically and almost exclusively 
collections oi his unsurpassed sympathy and generosit) 
and the persistent influence of a noble heart, with his 
last stirring utterances in aid of the beneficence of his 
fellow-citizens to the famishing people of repentant Sa- 
vannah, proclaim him foremost among the benefactors of 
his couutrj and the age. 

I will not even attempt, Mr. President, to till in the 
altogether too imperfect and hast} outline which 1 have 
sketched of the public services of this illustrious Ameri- 
can citizen. His long life has been a blessing to man- 
kind. The civilized world will deplore his death. His 
name and fame will be immortal. 

Hon. IIcnr\ ( 'hapin made the following remarks : — 

Mr. President: It is eminently appropriate that the 
members oi this Society should pay their tribute of respect 
to their late distinguished associate, and former president. 
By his pure life, bis ripe scholarship, his varied acquire- 
ments, and his peculiar oratorical power, he reflected honor 
upon every association with which he was connected. In 
all these relations may be most appropriately applied to 
him the compliment once given to another. " Nullum quod 
tetiqit uon ornarit." 

In cm-tain respects Edward Everett was a very remark- 
able man. His classic head and face, his elegant form, 
his singularly musical voice, bis purity and strength of 


diction ami his unsurpassed eloquence of speech will not 
ho soon forgotten by any who have had the privilege to 
observe them. I never enjoyed the pleasure of his per- 
sonal acquaintance. Indeed the idea ol seeking it never 
occurred to mo. but I looked upon his grace of action, 
and drank in his eloquent utterances, with unabated inter- 
est and constant admiration. On all occasions he was a 
gentleman, and at all times he bore himself with a quiet 
dignity, which was always fit and appropriate. A scholar 
an orator, a patriot, and a ( Christian, he has filled a place in 
the country which no man now living can fill, and he will 
long be remembered by those who have listened to bis 
words as one of the best models of scholarly eloquence 
and beautiful thoughts. 

An instance of the effect of one of Ids masterly appeals 
will never be forgotten by me. It was on the occasion of 
the reception of the representatives of the Sac-- and 
Foxes at Faneuil Hall. The Hall was filled to its utmost 
capacity, and many of course were excluded from entering 
it. I [ion the arrival of the red men. the audience seemed 
moved as by some invisible demon of tumult and confu- 
sion. It swayed frightfully in every direction. The offi- 
cer- of the law seemed to exert themselves in vain, and 
every one who was in a position to observe the surging 
mass looked upon it with feelings of anxiety, if not of 
dismay. In the midst of the tumult, Gov. Everett arose 
upon the platform, and his clear sweet voice sounded 
through the Hall with a magical and resistless power. 
Said he. "Gentlemen, suffer me to make an appeal to 
von." The rest of his language I am unable to recall. 


but in words firm, tender, and persuasive, he spoke of 
these untutored children of the forest, coming to the land 
of civilization and refinement, and he besought his fel- 
low citizens so to demean themselves, that those who had 
inner enjoyed the blessings and privileges which we 
enjoy, should carry home with them an exalted idea of 
their beneficent and purifying influence. Before he had 
half completed his remarks, the tumult had subsided, and 
at the close of his appeal that mass of human beings stood 
as quiet and still as the marble statues by his side. 

I never before nor since beheld a more wonderful exhi- 
bition of the power of the human voice, and I remember 
no speech of his which to me was more eloquent or 

At times the speeches and writings of Mr. Everett, beauti- 
ful, eloquent, and polished though they are. often failed to 
reach the hearts of his hearers. The fault, perhaps, was 
either in his temperament, or in Ins cautious views upon the 
topics of the day, which at times almost gave the impres- 
sion that he lacked depth of conviction. He was naturally 
timid and distrustful of change. lie was the eloquent 
outgrowth of an age of compromise and expediency, and 
he presented all there was of that age to respect, in its 
most beautiful and attractive form. He revered the past, 
but distrusted the future. He believed in facts, but lacked 
faith in the power of ideas. He honored precedents, but 
doubted theories. He seemed at times almost to rever- 
ence expediency at the expense id' absolute right. He 
was the eloquent expositor id' the past, the beautiful delin- 
eator of the present, lint he was not the hold prophet of 


the future. Hence during the vigor of his life, impressed 
with an honest tear of evil- to come, lie seemed to throw 
his transcendent talents in the way of progress and reform, 
until he was almost crushed beneath their advancing tread, 
and the lovers of liberty and right had almost come to 
look upon him as an enemy to freedom and humanity. 
Blessed be God, the veil lifted at last from bis vision. 
The first gun which was tired at Fort Sumter drove the 
warm blood to his heart; with true manliness and mas- 
nanimity he declared that he had been mistaken, and be 
girded himself for the conflict. No service during these 
years of war has been shunned, no duty has been neglect- 
ed by him. Throwing both head and heart into the 
great struggle for free institutions, he has redeemed him- 
self in the minds and hearts of his contemporaries, he 
has demonstrated to the world his integrity and patriot- 
ism, and he has placed his name high on the scroll of the 
friends of the country, and the defenders of the rights of 
man. Me died at the zenith of his true fame, his last 
days were his best, and the tears of a grateful people do 
justice to his memory and to his great and patriotic 
sen ices. 





( )n the morning of Saturday, January 21, 1865, at nine o'clock, 
the scholars of the Everett School were assembled in the spacious 
hall of the Schoolhouse, on Northampton Street. The Committee 
of the School were present, and a large number of the parents of 
the children. The Master of the School, Mr. George B. Hyde, 
commenced the exercises by reading appropriate selections from the 
Scriptures. Prayer was offered by Rev. Robert ( '. Waterston, 
after which a hvmn was sung by the members of the first class. 

Alden Speare, Esq. Chairman of the Sub-Committee, then 
stated the purposes of the present gathering, setting forth the hiss 
this school had sustained in the death of Mr. Everett, and the mul- 
titude of reasons which impelled us to pay respect to his memory. 
He closed by introducing Frederic F. Thayer, Esq. who, as 
Chairman of the Sub-Committee of the School for the year I860, 

was familiar with all the circumstances c lected with the naming 

and the dedication of the Schoolhouse. 

Mr. Thayer spoke as follows : — 

Mr. Chairman: When, yesterday, I received your 
kind invitation to be presenl lure this morning, and to 


say a few words. I confess to mingled emotions of grati- 
tude for the compliment of the invitation ; and of eon- 
scions inability to say anything worthy of the occasion. 
But inasmuch as here I am not a stranger, and lest my 
silence might lie construed to indicate a diminution of 
interest in this School, or an indifference to the occasion, 
1 shall venture to occupy a few moments of the hour, 
set apart for this sad memorial service. 

We have reached the last day of a week of mourning. 
On its iirst morning, when all the Christian world was 
preparing for the quiet of another Sabbath, the foremost 
man among us was called from the turmoils and excite- 
ments of earth to his everlasting rest. From the crowd 
who were accustomed to go to the house of God in coin- 
pany, one was missing; our hope and our faith prompt 
the suggestion, that another had joined the society of 
" the spirits of just men made perfect." A mortal, 
though loved, honored as few men ever have been, yet 
a mortal, by one of the kindliest agencies, through which 
the angel of death visits human habitations to execute his 
terrible mission, had laid aside the burden of the flesh, 
with its anxieties, its struggles, and its sorrows, and put 
on the immortal vestments, with the emblematic palm- 
wreath and crown. And as the voice of the Christian 
minister was lifted to lead the devotions of his people in 
prayer to God, for the forgiveness of their sins, in thank- 
fulness for innumerable blessings, it did not fail to offer 
also the petition of a whole people, stricken by sudden 
and overwhelming grief. From that day to this, has the 


prayer been repeated aloud in the busy marts of com- 
merce, and in the privacy of a thousand homes, indicat- 
ing so sincerely, an expression of bereavement so general, 
as almost never to have been equalled in the event of the 
death of any citizen. The eloquence of the most gifted, 
the learning of the schools, and the heartfelt utterances of 
friend to friend, have indicated a realizing sense of the 
loss our city, our state, our country, the enlightened 
world, have sustained in bis death, whose virtues, whose 
patriotism, whose learning, all vie with each other most 
fittingly to exalt and to commemorate. 

Impelled !>\ the same motives which have induced 
the numerous societies and associations, of which he was 
a member, to assemble that they might properly call to 
mind his pleasant connection with them. — to be experi- 
enced no more on earth, — and to make a respectful record 
to bis memory, are we now assembled. — the teachers, 
the pupils, the Committee, and a portion of the friend- of 
the Everett School ; to repeat in great measure, it may be, 
what others have' said before us; but on this spot, amid 
these scenes, wherein he was wont to join us with pleasure. 
— in tin- building, which is to bear his name, — probably 
when all of us, like him. have passed from earth, is to 
bear bis name to the generations that shall be, until brick 
and stone, and mortar shall have crumbled, and the 
action of the elements shall have worn away from the 
tablet all trace- of the letters which compose the illustri- 
ous name, — in this building, within these walls, resonant 
with his praise, and tributary of the esteem, with which 


the men of this generation regarded him, we do gratify 
our feelings of reverence and of affection, as we gather 
herein sympathy with a whole community; and among 
ourselves, in our own way, to mourn for the lamented 
dead, where we have met to rejoice with the honored 

I am aware, Mr. Chairman, that I am indebted for the 
compliment of an invitation to be present on this occasion 
to the fact, that a few years since, it was my privilege to 
hear an humble part in connecting Mr. Everett's name 
permanently with this school. 

To a gentleman, now a member of the Committee, and 
myself, were entrusted the arrangements for the dedica- 
tion, and we entered upon our duties, by waiting upon 
Mr. Everett, to inform him of the action of the Board, 
and to request his presence at the dedication, which was 
to take place on the following Monday, the 17th of 
September, the 230th birthday of our city. lie cheer- 
fully complied with our request, and most of us remem- 
ber with pleasure, his participation in the exercises oi 
that day, when with his friends, the lion. Robert ('. 
Winthrop, President Felton, of blessed memory. Rev. Dr. 
George Putnam, of our neighboring city, and Rev. Dr. Eliot, 
of Washington University, he joined the city authorities, 
and teachers and pupils of the school, in consecrating this 
building to the lofty purposes of education. — under his 
revered name, to hold no unworthy place among the 
excellent schools of our metropolis. 

That Mi-. Everett appreciated what had been accom- 
plished, in this appropriation of his name, we max learn, it 


we recall the words used by him, on that occasion, where 
lie savs, " Devoted, for a pretty long life, to the public 
service, in a variety of pursuits and occupations, laboring, 
1 know. L may say diligently, and I hope I may add, 
though sometimes with erring judgment, yet always with 
honest purpose, for the public good at home and abroad; 
1 frankl) own, sir, that no public honor, compliment, or 
reward which has fallen to my lot. has given me greater 
pleasure than the association of my name with one of 
these noble public schools of Boston." In full accord- 
ance with this expression, are other indications which 
have come under my personal observation. Both by 
letter, and from his own lips, have I had repeated assur- 
ance that he was deeply interested in the prosperity of 
this school ; that he fit a just pride in its reputation and 
in its usefulness ; and as he more than once -aid, he only 
waited the time, when his country could he relieved from 
threatening perils, to manifest his interesl more by his 
frequent presence. Alas, for the school, that day will 
not come ! Alas \ for us and for the school, the demands 
of a bleeding country upon his patriotic services pre- 
vented his frequent and valuable participation in cultivat- 
ing here the arts of peace. But thanks to the Providence 
which ordained it. he was found equal to the emergency, 
and in the hour of our country's greatest need, when the 
heart- of men were failing them from fear, he stood 
forth, loftiest among the mighty, the safe counsellor, the 
champion of republican institutions in their purity, the 
intelligent and eloquent prophet id' the ultimate triumph 
id' lihertv. You. niv yoiins friends of the school, were 

'J 76 


deprived of his benedictive presence and his valuable 
counsels; but his strength of body and mind, and the 
earnest prayers of his trusting, Christian heart were given 
to his country, which needed them more than you. And. 
to-day, when we are met to mourn his sudden departure, 
we can rejoice, that by the sublime efforts of his genius, 
as developed so recently in untried channels, and the con- 
secration of his matchless powers to sustain all that is 
good in the institutions under which we live; in the out- 
pourings of his lips that the hungry might be fed. the 
naked clothed, and the famishing restored; and all this. 
while not entirely neglecting the multitude of obligations 
which had claimed a share in his regards and his services, 
under a happier condition of national affairs, ho showed 
to us and to the whole world that his last days were his 
best days, and every day a- it came, shortening his career 
upon the earth, found him better fitted for heaven. 

"Wo can then, and we will mingle gratitude with our 
lamentations over his grave, — gratitude to (led, that to 
our times he gave such a complete development of the 
highest manhood. We will be grateful for his services to 
the world. — grateful that his unsurpassed talents were 
never used hut for the public good, — grateful that before 
our bodily eyes has been presented, in attractive form 
and feature, such an excellent example. In the refined 
scholar, in the accomplished orator, in the consummate 
statesman, in the perfect gentleman, in the unostentatious 
Christian, we find an embodiment of what our free insti- 
tution-., in their highest culture, directed and controlled 
by a living Christianity, will produce. We will he grate- 

SEIiVIi I - W l [IE l.\ EH1 [i mil. 

ful also for our humble connection with him, trifling 
though it be; for so much as it is. it has been another 
! to whatever is good, and noble, and true. When- 
ever he has been with us, he did not leave u^ without his 
blessing. And now that he has ascended, I would that all 
which is worthy of remembrance and imitation, — and 
how much was there in such a life as his. — I would that 
it should be transfigured before us. As we shall see his 
living face no more, I rejoice that the devotion of the 
master of this school, and his reverence for him who was 
worthiest among the living, now sainted among the dead, 
prompted his generous heart to secure this splendid 
marble bust, calm, graceful, majestic, like him whose 
lineaments it so accurately portrays, but to-day deco- 
rated with the emblems of sadness, in sympathy with all 
around. I rejoice it is here. I rejoice it is to remain 
hero, to be more precious than before : to remind ;ill 
who enter within these walls that the presiding genius 
here is excellence, — excellence in conversation, excel- 
e in deportment, excellence in intellectual accom- 
plishments, excellence in Christian graces. Under such 
a tutelage, with the throng of cooperating advant 
enjo}ed, we might trust in the most flattering pi 
ise of a generation of well educated, well balanced. 
firm principled, devoted, Christian women, to hear their 
honorable part in the great future of our country. 

But, Mr. Chairman and friends. I have consumed the 
portion of time which it becomes me to occupy; and 1 
must close, although I have just reached that part of my 
theme which most attrai ts me. 1 mu^t leave to others to 


dwell upon the value of such an example before the 
youth of our land. What a wealth of beneficent influence 
is treasured up in the story oi 1 1 is life! Though " being 
dead, he yet speaketh." To all alike, young and old, lie 
speaks, telling of the possibilities wrapped up in this 
nature of ours, <>t the responsibilities which accompany 
exulted talents, and how religiously they may be fulfilled; — 
of the present reward, which waits upon fidelity to duty, 
and a compliance with the providential directions of 
passing life, — telling, how it is possible to be great and 
good ; to be kind, and virtuous, and true ; to be learned in 
all worldly lore, to hold the loftiest positions among men, 
and yet be studious of the precepts of the -Master, humbly 
following Him who " went about doing good," — how it is 
possible to move uncontaminated amid the world's glitter- 
ing fascinations and its fleeting shadows, — to turn aside 
from the broad highway and its sure destruction, to enter 
in at the straight gate. — to attain, as he attained, and to 
share with him •• the peace and the progress of the 


Rev. R. ( '. Waterston, a member of the Sub-Committee, said: — 

It is natural that we should strive to recall, as far as 
possible, each incident in the life of the illustrious bene- 
factor who has been so recently taken from us. Every 
look and word, all the expressions of counsel and en- 
couragement which we have heard him utter. 

Lt was one of bis great pleasures to visit this school. 


bearing as it did his name; and you, I am quite sure, 
always felt it a privilege to welcome him. 

In that volume from which we have just heard such 
appropriate passages read, — we are told that when Peter 
was in a certain city of Judea, one who had been activelj 
useful, had been suddenly taken away. When the Apos- 
tle met the sorrowing company, they gathered around, 
showing the garments they had received, while the friend 
now departed was yet living. What a graphic touch of 
nature is that ! 

The instructive prompting of their hearts led them to 
recall those grateful reminiscences. It was the finest 
tribute which could be paid, surpassing in its simplicity 
all human eloquence. 

Thus Shakespeare, with his transcendent knowledge of 
human nature, makes Mark Antony exclaim over the 
body of Julius Ciesar : — 

•■ You all '1" know tins mantle, I remember 
The first time ever Cresar put it on." 

So in the presence of the Apostle, the people gather 
about him holding up for his notice the treasured memo- 
rials of their departed friend, recounting each act of 

True to the same natural impulse, at the present 
moment, societies, associations, and individuals are 
meeting together, that they may express those feelings 
of respect and affection which gush up with fresh in- 
tensity in the heart, t'ondlv do they dwell upon each 


pleasant remembrance. What lie lias said and done in 
their behalf. The University, the City, the State, the 
Xation, pause- to recount every word and deed. 

Ay, even while we speak, the steamer that so lately 
left this pert, may be entering the harbor of Savannah, 
while those who receive the aid which has been thus gen- 
erously sen!, having heard already by the swift telegraph, 
of this sad event, may exclaim — "That eloquent voice 
(to be heard no more) gave forth its closing accents in 
our behalf. That which we receive, in this hour of need, 
comes as from his hand ! " 

So also with us. my young friends, we shall do well to 
recall in this impressive hour, whatever we may have 
known of that life and character. If we have seen that 
face, if we have heard that voice, if we have had any 
special opportunity at any time or in any way of becom- 
ing acquainted with a mind which exerted so wide and 
so powerful an influence, let us dwell upon it in thought, 
let us speak of it frankly one with another. 

Thus if von remember Mr. Everett's visits to this 
School, if you can recall any of his remarks, you will do 
well to retain that recollection as vividly as possible; to 
strengthen the impression, and to add to its value 1>\ 
speaking of it to others. 

I know that he gave a book to each of the older scholars, 
the name written out in connection with his own; with 
what constantly increasing interest, will others look upon 
that autograph ! 

My personal acquaintance with Mr. Everett commenced 
in is;! I, — thirtv-one years ago. I had written an article 


for the Xoi'th American Review, of which he was. at thai 
time, the editor, lie resided at Charlestown, and sent an 
invitation for me to come and see him. Never can 1 for- 
get his kindness upon that occasion, a kindness winch 
knew no shadow through thirty years. Within three 
days of his death, I received two notes from him, in one 
of which he says " I rise from my bed (to which I have 
been mostly confined since Monday) to write you." The 
day following be says — "I was too ill to write at any 
length yesterday, and 1 am not much better to-day." 
Then, having added a few lines, he closes with the words 
" My head is too cloudy." A startling expression from 
him, and, 1 confess, awakening the first feeling of ap- 

This I received on Friday. On Sunday morning he 
was no more here. On that Monday, to which he refers, 
he had made his thrilling, and (as we then little knew) 
his last speech at Faneuil Hall. That mind which seemed 
never cloudy before, had this slight foreshadowing, this 
gentle intimation of the swift-approaching event. Now, 
even that momentary veil has been withdrawn, and that 
mind, with its wonderful powers, has risen into celestial 

How mysterious 1 and yet is it not blended with grand- 
eur '. With every faculty in unsurpassed vigor, active 
and useful, never more so, to the whole community and 
the entire Nation, suddenly he is uplifted above the things 
of time. Sorrowful as we may feel, is then' not reason 
on his account, for exultation 1 

As long as the oldest of us here can remember, he has 


been one of the most marked men of the country, and 
never has he been more honored or beloved than within 
the last four years of our country's strife and struggle. 

Through these days of calamity and cloud, he has been 
firm and fearless. I need not dwell upon that patriotic 
devotion which we have all witnessed, and to which we 
shall ever recur with gratitude and delight. 

My purpose at this time will be, not to dwell upon his 
public career, but briefly to consider two or three of those 
characteristics, which it may be of advantage for the 
pupils of this school, and for the young generally, to keep 
in mind. 

The first characteristic to which I will refer is, his 
Courtesy. This, I believe, he extended at all times, to 
all persons, old and young, learned and ignorant, rich and 
poor. I doubt if he was ever guilty of a discourteous act 
to the least influential person, or even to an opponent. 
It is my conviction that this was in him no empty for- 
mality ; but that it was based upon a thoughtfulness of 
the feelings and the rights of others. This respectfulness 
of manner, this grace of deportment, so marked, and so 
attractive in our distinguished friend, was a trait which the 
young may well keep before them as an incentive. 
Some things are beyond our reach, but this, to a consider- 
able degree, is within the attainment of all. 

At times, unawares, perhaps, the young acquire a brusk 
manner. They become, it may be, abrupt, hasty, pert, 
overbearing. They are not properly respectful to the 
aged. There is a lack of gentleness in their daily inter- 
course with their companions. 


In what striking contrast to this was the manner and 
the spirit of Edward Everett. 

Let the young, when they recall the splendor of those 
gifts which made him illustrious, and some of which arc 
far beyond common acquirement, remember this winning 
and admirable trait, by which he imparted pleasure to 
many, through all the daily routine of life. 

Another remarkable characteristic of Mr. Everett was 
his Memory. 

This was no doubt in him a rare natural endowment. 
Still it was strengthened bv care and culture. Probably 
no man in this country has possessed this faculty and per- 
fected it to such a degree, unless it was John Quincy 
Adams ; but this gift in him, though as extraordinary in 
some respects, was less marvellous in others. 

John Quincy Adams appeared to remember the name of 
every person he had ever known, the ideas of every bonk 
he had ever read, and each fact which had ever presented 
itself to his knowledge. And. moreover, he was never at 
a loss. The instant that any subject was suggested, at 
that instant all his recollections and acquisitions were lie- 
fore him, in perfect order and ready for use. But with 
him, as far as I know, it was principally names, facts, 
data, the rich ore which he could work abundantly, and 
turn evermore to his purpose. All history and literature 
seemed familiar to his mind, his eve penetrating through 
everything at a -lance, and resting upon the very fact 
he needed. But Mr. Everett, while he remembered facts, 
names, and data, could also recall with unerring exactness 
the precise language of an author. 


We all know how he could with ease repeat, word for 
word, orations of one and two hours in length, without 
the slightest reference to notes, and this in a natural tone, 
without apparent effort, as if every expression was the 
spontaneous utterance of the moment. 

J will mention a little incident illustrative of his 
memory, which happened to come within my knowledge. 
A friend of mine in London stated to me that an English 
gentleman, having printed a history of one of the inte- 
rior counties of England, he sent a copy of the work to 
our city Library. In writing to Mr. Everett, as one of 
the Trustees of the Library, my friend suggested that, as 
the hook was privately printed, it would doubtless he a. 
gratification to the author if he should receive some 


special acknowledgment. 

By the next steamer a letter was received from Mr. 
Everett — not only expressing thanks for the volume, but 
Mr. Everett stated in addition that he was at Oxford when 
that gentleman received his degree. That he listened with 
great pleasure to a Poem which that gentleman recited at 
that time, and that he was particularly impressed by the 
following lines. Here he quoted a passage from a l'oem 
which had never been published, and which Mr. Everett 
heard incidentally from a young man at that time quite 
unknown, and in connection with the various public 
exercises of a Literary Festival, and yet years after he 
could recall those lines, and send them across the Atlantic 
to the author, who was as much astonished as if he had 
heard a voice coming down to him from the heavens. 

It is doubtful if there is another man in the country 


who could have exercised such a singular power of 
memory, or have made such a felicitous use of it. 

Mr. Everett's natural gift he used and directed with 
consummate care. It would be curious to know more 
fully his rules and practices. While at College he com- 
mitted the whole of Locke on the Human Understanding, 
so that he could repeat it word for word, from the intro- 
duction to the close. And in an address delivered at the 
request of the Massachusetts Historical Society. 1 heard 
him repeat more than one hundred and eighty names of 
authors and artists of different nations. Greek, Latin, Ger- 
man, Italian. Spanish, French, in exact order, with as 
much apparent ease as he would have spoken his own 

This power varies in different persons, hut .there is no 
faculty more perceptibly affected by culture. You may 
be sure, my young friends, that by every lesson you learn, 
bv every paragraph you commit, you are strengthening 
this important faculty of mind, which may prove an in- 
calculable advantage to you in after life. No one can 
fully estimate the value of this faculty to such a man as 
Mr. Everett. How different he would have been with 
that one power wanting ! And how greatly is the world 
indebted to him for the diligence and wisdom with which 
he employed it. 

The next and closing characteristic of which I will 
speak is that fidelity which was manifested by Mr. Everett, 
not only in great but in minor duties. [t was said of 
Oberlin that he was conscientious even to the rounding <<[' 
an (). Mr. Everett was faithful to the same degree. 


Nothing was too minute for his observation or his care. 
You see it in cvcr_\ note he penned, in every word he 
uttered. It mattered not whether he was to give an 
elaborate oration before some learned University, or a 
brief address before some small Society, or simply a 
remark to an individual, the words to be spoken were well 
considered. There was an appropriateness and a com- 
pleteness which made it memorable. 

Every pamphlet he received he acknowledged with his 
own hand, and whatever he did was done promptly. His 
industry and punctuality were something extraordinary. 
The notes from which I have quoted, received within 
three days of his death, are a proof that not even illness 
could prevent him from fulfilling, even to within a few 
hours of his departure, whatever it was within his power 
to do. I confess that even more than for his most splen- 
did achievements do I honor him for his life-long fidelity 
to the minutest of duties. These were the steps by which 
he climbed to surprising elevations. The rounds in that 
ladder, which, planted on the earth, reached upward and 
upward. Every young person may learn a lesson of wis- 
dom from Mr. Everett here. Wordsworth tells us that — 

" The primal duties shine aloft — like -tars ; 
The charities that soothe, ami heal, and bless, 
Are scattered at tin- feet of man — like flowers." 

So there were gifts in Mr. Everett which we may never 
aspire to possess. They shine aloft like stars, to cheer 
and guide us in our pathway; but there are qualities 
which are scattered bountifully within our reach. Let us 


then gain whatever advantage is possible from am portion 
of his life, and any characteristics of his mind, which 
may offer for us a lesson. 

There are those who will remember Mr. Everett chieflj 
as the Orator ; some will dwell upon him as the States- 
man ; some as the man of Letters; some will recall his 
patriotism in these latter days of his country's trial. But 
while you think of him as the Scholar, the Patriot, the 
Statesman, the Orator, — you will think of him, perhaps, 
mosl fondly as the friend of the Everett School. You 
will dwell upon him in thought, as he appeared to you 
while here. May his example inspire you to constant 
diligi nee. and may the memory of what he accomplished 
lead you to perpetual progress. 

Mr. Charles W. Slack said : — 

Mr. Chairman and Friends: Mr. Everett's character 
was so many-sided that there are few who cannot speak 
of s, ime one particular quality that makes his memory and 
name respected. For me. two or three will suffice on 
this occasion. 

1. His deep interest in public education. Himself a 
graduate at the age of 10 of the North (now Eliot) School 
of this city, his children severally educated, in part, at the 
public schools, and his every influence exerted for the 
success of the common-school system of our State, he was 
particularly near to us who meet on this occasion. .\s 
Governor of Massachusetts, he was largely influential in 
giving permanence to the beneficial system of Normal 


Schools, which arc alike our pride and strength. True. 
Horace Mann was n potential coadjutor in this good work 
of a systematic and progressive scheme of School educa- 
tion, but Mr. Everett gave the large weight of bis official 
and personal aid to the work. Then, also, be was largely 
the promoter of the lyceum or lecture system, now so 
common and so popular. Before bis day. t lit" lecture- 
course for the instruction of tbc people was wholly 
unknown. How much we are indebted to him for tins 
great service, we can readily appreciate should we be 
deprived of our Mercantile Library, our Parker- Frater- 
nity, our Young Men's Christian Association's Lectures, or, 
more recently, those charming lectures of Mr. Emerson, 
all of which are the direct result of Mr. Everett's desire 
to instruct and benefit the community. Surely, we can 
all thank him for these educational advantages to the 
common people. 

'2. His wonderful and systematic industry, joined with 
a courteous readiness to aid in any proper work for the 
benefit of bis fellow-citizens. Think of bis long and 
varied life ! the tasks imposed upon him in each sphere, 
and with what rare fidelity be discharged bis several 
trusts! What files of addresses, reports, messages, letters, 
orations, attest bis knowledge, scholarship, cooperation, 
as well as eloquence! He was ever a cheerful worker. I 
think no one ever appealed to him for assistance in a 
laudable enterprise that did not, if be were not pre- 
occupied, receive it cordially and punctually. And this 
trait of bis punctuality was a marked one. It was as 
much a cbarm of bis life as his eloquence. He never de- 


laved, even in the minutest, and, seemingly, most unim- 
portant particulars. I remember, last September, being 
interested in a meeting in Faneuil Hall, to have realized 
the value of this excellence. It was just after the brilliant 
success of the indomitable and persistent Sherman, who, 
amid the mountains of Georgia, had just planted his 
colors in triumph over the city of Atlanta. It was while 
the news was coming to us that the brave old Farragut 
had defiantly made the passage of the forts in Mobile 
Bay, and conquered the second city of the South without 
even placing his foot upon the land. Some of us wanted to 
celebrate these victories in Faneuil Hall. As one ot the 
Committee of Arrangements, I called on Mr. Everett, to 
aid in its success, lie received me cordially, thanked me 
heartily for the honor, told me his whole heart and soul 
was in response to the glad tidings and the objects of the 
meeting, hut he had for a few days been very feeble in 
health, was busily engaged in the preparation of twelve 
lectures upon law for Harvard University, there was 
scarce time for him to elaborate a first-class oration for 
the occasion, as he should desire, and, very reluctantly, he 
must decline the invitation. To assent cheerfully to the 
disappointment, for such reasons, was only a duty. ' But 
you can send a letter, Mr. Everett, to the meeting, can 
you not ?" 1 asked. " With great pleasure." was the cor- 
dial response, " if that will he acceptable. Call to- 
morrow at four o'clock, and it shall he ready for you." I 
need not say that at the hour named, almost to a minute, 
that letter was in my hands, in his well-known, faultless 
chirography, no interlineations, every / crossed, ever) / 


dotted, — a model for teacher or pupil in any school ; and 
this from a man pressed with untold cares, and in the 
seventy-first year of his age! That letter I have now 
with me, just as it was prepared for that rejoicing Faneuil 
Hall assembly by Mr. Everett himself. 1 have been 
solicited by committees of national fairs, lovers of choice 
autographs, and others, to part with it. What committees 
and friends could not by entreaty and long persuasion 
induce me to surrender, I now cheerfully give to the 
Everett School, through its Principal, to be added to such 
other souvenirs as may be possessed, as my tribute, as a 
past chairman and a past secretary of the Everett School 
District Committee, to the memory of a man deserving 
to have the School named in his honor. 

3. His Nationality. This was deep-seated, far-reach- 
ing, wholly American. lie believed in the American 
name, American literature, science, commerce, manufac- 
tures, and the craft of the artisan. Never was this 
quality so brilliantly illustrated as during the last four 
years. American law, order, nationality, the sovereignty 
ot a great people, the perpetuity of tin' great republic, 
were the themes which found expression in a hundred 
ways of popular address, lie sustained the war, he sus- 
tained the government, he sustained the administration , 
it was all unselfish, disinterested, cordial, patriotic. No 
man can measure the value of this support — scarce one 
throughout the continent equalled it in influence. This 
memory of the departed will to many he the sweetest and 
longest enduring. 

I fear, Mr. Chairman. I do not join with many in the 


feelino- of profound sorrow which has attended this depart- 
ure. I cannot divorce my mind from the though! thai it 
is a wise consummation of a full-measured and rounded- 
out existence here. To me it is in accord with the benefi- 
cent laws of nature. I know that the wilting and falling 
leaves of tln> flower only indicate that its keenest fragrance 
and intensest coloring have been given to its admirers ; 1 
see the golden fruit, streaked with its ribands of emerald 
and ruby, hanging in the autumn sun. and at the favoring 
moment it drops, fully ripe, into the lap of mother earth ; 
the dying swan, we are told, throws forth its sweetesl 
notes of song with its expiring breath ; and may we not 
believe that, with the same all-wise provision for His 
children, the good Father called our departed friend when 
his work was fully done, his life wholly completed, and 
his memory should be the sweetest to all who remain '. 
Let us be thankful we have that memory, that life, that 
work, and from them each shall radiate influences which 
shall evermore bless and benefit the world. 

'flic master of the School, in a few appropriate remarks, 
accepted the gift, and the exercises were closed by singing. 




Boston, January 20, lSlio. 

The follow ni- Preamble and Resolutions were prefaced with 
remark.- by the Reverend James Walker, D. I>., and presented to 
the Board : — 

Whereas it has pleased God to take from this life the 
Hon. Edward Everett, a distinguished member of this 
Board ; therefore 

Resoked, That we avail ourselves of the earliest oppor- 
tunity to record our sense of the great loss which Harvard 
College has sustained in the death of one of the must 
illustrious of her sons. 

Resoked, That, as one branch of the government of the 
college, we would especially acknowledge his early servi- 
ces to the University as Professor of (neck Literature, 
which were welcomed with so much enthusiasm by the 
scholars of that day. and did so much to give an impulse 
to classical learning in this country ; and also the unsur- 
passed dignity with which, in later life, he filled the other 
of President, his administration being marked by all his 
accustomed care and thoroughness, and only prevented by 


its brevity from becoming one of the mosl useful and 
brilliant the college has known, 

Resolved, That, as members of this Board, we regret 
that we arc no longer to be assisted in our deliberations 
by his wisdom and experience in college affairs, nor to 
have before us his example in the faithful discharge of 
every public trust, recommended by uniform courtesy. 

Resolved, That we also sympathize in the general 
mourning for the death of a great and good man ; not 
forgetting in the eminent scholar, the enlightened states- 
man, or the conspicuous and revered citizen, — one whom 
Providence seemed to have raised up, in the troubled 
state of the country, to be of great influence in restoring 
union and peace. 

Resolved, That the secretary be requested to transmit 
a copy of these resolutions to the family of Mr. Everett. 

The Preamble and Resolutions were seconded in an appropriate 
address by Rev. Artemas 15. Muzzey ; and after eulogistic remarks 
by His Excellency die Governor of the Commonwealth, President 
of the Board, and Philip II. Sears, Esq., Rev. James F. Clarke, 
1). D., David IT. Mason, Esq., and Hon. Thomas Russell, they 
were adopted by a unanimous vote, the members rising from their 
scats, in token of affirmation. 


Secretary oj the Overseers. 


The following resolutions in honor of Mr. Everett were adopted 
bv the Faculty of Harvard College, January 18, L865 : — 

Resolved, That we lament, in the death of Mr. Everett, 
the loss of a kind friend, an honorable eitizen, a gifted, 
well-trained, and patriotic statesman, and a bright example 
of finished scholarship. 

Resolved, That now, when another thread in the silver 
cord of living ex-presidents of the college has been loosed, 
we remember with gratitude and admiration the long and 
varied services of the departed to the college, as Student, 
Graduate, Professor, Governor, President, and Overseer. 

Resolved, That as members of the Faculty of instruction 
and government, over which Mr. Everett formerly pre- 
sided with unsurpassed dignity and gentleness, we delight 
to trace even now the beneficent influences of his too 
brief administration, as of a patient and watchful guar- 
dian, an inspiring scholar, and a Christian gentleman. 

Resolved, That we accept the invitation of the Mayor 
of Boston to attend the funeral ceremonies in that city. 

Cambkioue, January 18, 18fi">. 


Boston, January 17, 1865. 

At an adjourned meeting of the Standing Committee of the 
First Church, held this day, with members of the congregation, 
(i. YV~. Messinger, and S. I>. Abbot, the Sub-Committee ap- 
pointed for that purpose, submitted the following preamble and 
resolutions, which were unanimously adopted: — 

Whereas, It has pleased the All-wise Disposer of events 
to remove from us, by sudden death, our esteemed fellow- 
worshipper and beloved friend Edward Everett, and, 

Whereas, We wish to put on record an expression of 
our sense of the great private worth which distinguished 
him no less than his public virtues ; therefore, be it 

Resolved, That, by his decease, the members of the 
First Church and congregation have lost one strongly 
endeared to them by the association which has hound 
them together as worshippers, for many years past. 

Resolved, That we gratefully recall the constant inter- 
est which our departed friend took in the welfare of our 
venerable society ; an interest which he manifested to the 
last by his regular attendance on the offices of the Sanct- 


'red. That we shall always hold his example in 
precious remembrance, as of one who, while he dignified 
our nation, especially in her hour of trial, by his unselfish 
patriotism, humanity, and generous devotion to the cause 
of republican liberty, was no less distinguished for the 
humility, purity, and Christian excellence of his private 

Resolved, That these resolutions be placed on the 
record- of the First Church, and that a copy be transmit- 
ted to the family of the deceased, with the assurance of 
our most tender sympathy in this hour of their heavy 

It was then 

Voted, That Thomas B. Wales, Otis Rich, Samuel L. 
Abbot, Nathaniel Thayer, George W. Messinger, John 
Collamore. 1). W. Salisbury, Edward Austin, J. Putnam 
Bradlee, Turner Sargent, George W. Wales, Edward 
Frothingham, George 0. Shattuck, Joseph I,. Henshaw, 
and Samuel II. Gookin of the congregation, be a committee 
to superintend the arrangements at the church during tin' 
funeral services of the late Edward Everett, and to confer 
with the committee of the City Government in the matters 
relating to the same. 

The meeting was then adjourned sine die. 

THOMAS B. WALKS, Chairman. 
GEORGE (>. HARRIS, Secretary. 


Pursuant to a call in the newspapers, the Association of Franklin 
Medal Scholars met in the Mercantile Building, Summer Street, 
on tlic morning of January 1!', to take measures in honor of the 
memory of their late President, — lion. Edward Everett. Dr. 
M. W. Weld was chosen Chairman. 

The following resolutions wen 1 ottered by Mr. Thomas Gaf- 
field : — 

Whereas, It hath pleased God to remove by the hand 
of death our late President, Edward Everett : 

Resolved, That while we unite with the head of the 
nation, and with the legislative assemblies of the city, the 
state, and the country, in mourning the loss of the patriot 
and statesman ; with the lovers of liberty throughout the 
world, in lamenting the departure of one of its noblest 
champions, who, in the hour of his country's trial, came 
up so gloriously to the defence of freedom and right, and 
to the support of the Government and its defenders on the 
land and on the sea ; we especially deplore the loss of 
one who was the great American scholar ; one whom we 
rejoice to know was nurtured in his youth in those public 
schools, which are the honor of our city and our Com- 


monwealth ; who at the early age of ten years, received 
the Franklin prize for superior scholarship at the North 
School, and at the age of twelve, a similar token at the 
Latin School; whose career of superiority and excellence 
in scholarship followed him throughout his college course, 
and made him at an early period of life, take rank among 
the best writers and the most accomplished orators of the 
land, and placed him at a later age at the head of that 
University which he always loved, and which always 
delighted to honor its most distinguished graduate. 

Resolved, That as graduates of our Public Schools, in 
which, as in all educational institutions, he took so deep 
an interest to the last year of his life, we gratefully revere 
the memory of the departed scholar, statesman, and 
patriot, and heartily commend to the youth of our city 
and our country, the study of his writings, so full of wis- 
dom and learning, and the imitation of his life, so 
crowned with the fruits of literary industry, with the 
deeds of noble patriotism, and the works of true Christian 

Resolved, That we most deeply sympathize with the 
family of the deceased, and reverently point them to the 
consolations of that Gospel, which he so earnestly and 
eloquently set forth in the days of his early manhood. 

Resolved, That the members of this Association attend 
the funeral services at the First Church in Chauncy Street. 
this day. 

Resolved, That a copy of the above resolutions he 
transmitted 1>\ the secretary to the family of the de- 


After remarks by Messrs. Gaffield, Stetson, Harris, and Pratt, 
the resolutions were unanimously adopted. 

Mr. Gaffield then offered the following, which were also unani- 
mously adopted : — 

Resolved, That while the memory of Edward Everett 
will ever be enshrined in the hearts of his countrymen, 
and while the words and the deeds of his life will consti- 
tute his noblest monument, we cordially unite with our 
fellow-citizens in any movement to honor his worth and 
commemorate his name. 

Resolved, That we heartily approve of the proposition 
to erect a statue to his memory, and direct, that our 
treasurer pay over to the committee appointed for the 
purpose at Faneuil Hall, on the 18th inst., the sum of 
one thousand dollars, as the subscription of the Association 
of Franklin Medal Scholars. 

It was moved that a committee of five lie appointed by the chair 
to represent this Association at the church. The motion was 
adopted, and the following-named gentlemen were appointed, viz : 
Isaac Harris, Thomas Gaffield, S. F. Smith, .1. C. Pratt, T. \Y. 

( iollld. 

The meeting then dissolved. 


At a special meeting of the Mercantile Library Association of 
Boston, held on Wednesday evening, January 18, 18(5"), the ti>l- 
lowino- Resolutions were offered by Charles II. Frothingham, and 
were unanimously adopted: — 

Whereas, It lias pleased Almighty God to remove from 
us by death our late eminent and illustrious citizen, Ed- 
ward Everett, whose loss is justly regarded as a national 
calamity, and strikes with unspeakable sorrow this com- 
munity in which he had so long lived; we, the members 
of the Mercantile Library Association of Boston, to whom 
he was a near neighbor and sincere friend and benefactor, 
desiring to express our affectionate regard for his memory, 
unanimously adopt the following resolutions : — 

Resolred, That we an- profoundly grateful to Divine 
Providence for his long life filled with honor to himself 
and his country ; for his death without suffering, and for 
bis possession of all his glorious faculties to the last, 
unimpaired ; and, while humbly submitting to the inscrut- 
able decree of the Great Disposer of events, we cannot but 
deplore the loss to American literature and oratory of 
their brightest ornament, and to the Union of its warmest. 
advocate, whose exalted character, and lofty, disinterested 
patriotism would have exerted an influence, at home and 

;;n | memorial of edwaro everi i i 

abroad, more potent than any other citizen, in the final 
settlement of our existing difficulties. 

Resolved, That we will remember that he was as good 
as he was great, and as amiable as lie was accomplished. 
Like Washington, whom it was his privilege to hold up to 
his admiring fellow-countrymen, he possessed that rare 
combination of qualities which constitutes an evenly bal- 
anced mind. Always magnanimous in heart and action, in 
justice to man and in obedience to God. he ever showed 
those qualities of grace and loveliness which denote the true 
Christian gentleman; and especially thankful are we for 
those last words in favor of " Christian retaliation " at the 
meeting in aid of the suffering poor of Savannah. 

Resolved, That while we contemplate the noble portrait 
of the Father of his Country, which he presented to us, 
and endeavor to hold dear the memory and revere the 
name and character of Washington, we will ever associate 
with that name that of our late distinguished benefactor, 
and we will proudly preserve his bust of which we are 
the fortunate possessors. 

Resolved, That we will regard him as an example for 
our emulation of industry in every station ; of refined 
culture, and of patriotic inspiration. 

Resolved, That we tender to the family of the deceased 
our heartfelt sympathy and condolence in this season ot 
their affliction, and as a further token of our respect and 
love for his memory we will attend his funeral. 

A true copy nt the record, 


Recording Secretary. 


At the regular monthly meeting of the Franklin Typographical 
Society, on the evening of February 4, after the formal business 
had been transacted, the President alluded to the decease of Mr. 
K\ erett ; and after referring to the great loss sustained by the whole 
country, recalled to notice the generous services which Mr. Everett 
rendered the Society five years previously, by delivering before 
them his address on the life and character of Benjamin Franklin. 
The funds of the Society had at that time become so reduced that 
it was much straitened in providing for the needs of its sick mem- 
bers; and Mr. Everett, on being applied to, cheerfully consented 
to deliver an address in behalf of its treasury, the committee ol 
arrangements agreeing to give him the remuneration which he 
ordinarily received for such a service. When payment was ten- 
di red to him, after the address, Mr. Everett declined compensation, 
savinT that since he made the engagement he had become more fully 
acquainted than before with the charitable objects of the Society, 
and that he had derived great satisfaction from addressing so intel- 
ligent a bodv of men, with whom, he remarked, he placed himself 
in magnetic sympathy more readily than with most audiences before 
which he was accustomed to appear. The President expressed his 
conviction that this act of benevolent kindness, on the part of Mr. 
Everett, had been of lasting benefit to the Society, by inducing men 
of wealth to regard its claims for aid, which they had previousl) 
e\ erlooked. 

When the President had concluded his remarks, Mr. Ambrose 
II. Goodridge moved that a committee of three l>e appointed by 


the Chair to report a series of resolutions, expressive of the senti- 
ments of the members, in relation to the sad event to which allusion 
had been made. The ('hair appointed as the Committee, Messrs. 
( ioodridge, < '. W. Ci. Mansfield, and James Cox, who subsequently 
reported the following series of resolutions, and they were unani- 
mously adopted : — 

Resolved, That in the recent decease of Edward Everett, 
the members of the Franklin Typographical Society, in 
common with the community in which he lived, and 
with the nation of whose history his life forms so impor- 
tant a part, feel that an irreparable loss lias been sustained 
by every good and patriotic cause and institution in the 

Resolved, That throughout the long and public career 
of the eminent statesman, whose demise we mourn, we 
recognize the qualities of rare goodness as well as exalted 
greatness, prompting him to acts of charity and benevo- 
lence, in which he engaged with unfaltering zeal. 

Resolved, That we remember with abiding gratitude the 
timely and important aid which he rendered to our Society, 
a few years since, at a period when its means were greatly 
reduced, by his generous and voluntary labors in behalf of 
our charitable fund. 

Resolved, That we tender to the family and immediate 
friends of the deceased our profound sympathies in their 

Resolved, That the secretary be directed to transmit a 
copy of these resolutions to the family of the deceased, 
and that they be entered upon the records of the Society. 


The Government of this Association held a special meeting on 
Tuesday; January 17. in the afternoon, to consider the death of 
Hon. Edward Everett, an honorary member. Joseph I. Bailey, 
Esq., President, announced the sad bereavement which had called 
the Trustees together ; and Hon. Wm. W. Clapp, Jr. offered the 
following preamble and resolutions, which were unanimoush 
adopted : — 

The death of the Hon. Edward Everett having removed 
from our list of honorary members one. who for many 
years has given to us convincing proof of his interest in 
our Association, therefore 

Resolved, That, in the death of Mr. Everett, we feel 
the loss of a prized friend, a wise counsellor, and an 
honored benefactor, whose intercourse with us has cheered 
and encouraged us, whose heart, constantly devoted to 
our good, has successfully manifested its sincerity in kind- 
ly acts, and whose gifted mind has ever sought our 
benefit; whose deep sympathy with mechanical pursuits 
and interest in the artisan have secured for him the 
gratitude and respect of the workingman ; and whose 


associations with us we regard with proud satisfaction, 
enjoying as we did, so long, the invigorating influence of 
his massive character. 

Resolved, That we will cuter upon our records this 
mark of respect to the memory of Mr. Everett, who was 
held, while living, in the highest regard by every member 
of our Association. 

Resolved, That the government will attend the funeral 
of Mr. Everett, with such members of the Association as 
wish to join with them in paying this tribute of respect. 


A special meetin" of the directors of the Bunker Hill Monument 
Association, was held on the 18th of January, in the Council 
Chamber, City Hall, to take suitable action upon the death of Hon. 
Edward Everett, who was one of the Vice-Presidents of the 
Association. His Honor Mayor Lincoln presided. The following 
resolutions were offered by W. W. Wheildon, Esq., and unani- 
mously adopted hv the meeting : — 

Resolved., 'That the government of this Association have 
learned with deep emotion the death of their late asso- 
ciate, Edward Everett, whose services as its first secre- 
tarv, as director and vice-president, for more than forty 
years, have been so generously and efficiently rendered, 
and whose advice, counsel, and transcendent talents have 
been so important in the promotion of the great object of 
its organization. 

Resolved, That as an evidence of our respect for his 
unblemished character, of appreciation of his disinter- 
ested labors, of acknowledgment of his unvarying cour- 
tesj and kindness, and as a recognition of his patriotic 
devotion to his country, this Board will attend his funeral 
and participate in those lienors so justly due to his dis- 
tinguished abilities and his exalted worth. 


Resolved, That the loss of otic who was always ready 
ami present when needed ; who was equally good and 
great; who excelled all others in devotion and effort, and 
was constantly outdoing and overdoing himself, leaves 


an "aching yoid" which time itself may not rill. 

■• V'\v he is gone! vainly and \w;iui\ 
Groans the full heart, the yearning sorrow flows — 
Gone ! and all the zest of life in one long sigh, 
with him where he goes." 

Resolved, That a committee be appointed to express in 
suitable form that respect for his memory, that honor for 
his virtues, and that gratitude for his services, entertained 
by this Association, to be presented at its next annual 
meeting, -and placed enduringly upon its records. 

The following gentlemen were appointed to constitute th n- 

mittee designated in the resolutions: — 

I,'. C. Winthrop, W. W. Wheildon, J. Mason Warren, Albert 
Fearing, J. II. Thorndike, Benjamin T. Reed, Samuel II. Russell, 
Henry A Pierce, F. A\ . Lincoln, Jr., (i. \\ . Warren. 

Voted, That the Secretary notify the Chairman of the 
City Committee that the Directors will attend the funeral 
of Mr. Everett on the 19th instant; and that the members 
ot' the Association be requested to unite with them on the 

The meeting was then dissolved. 

Attest : S. F. McCLEARY, Secretary. 


At a meeting of the First I nattaehed Company of Infantry, 
M. V. M. i Lincoln Guard), Cant. Moses E. Bigelow, at their 
armory in South Boston, on Monday Evening, January 16, the 
following resolutions were unanimously adopted : — 

Whereas, Divine Providence, in his impartial dealings 
with man. lias, by the very sudden decease of the Hon. 
Edward Everett, of this State and city, deprived this 
country of one of its firmest friends, in this, her hour of 
peril : 

Resolved, 'That the members of this Company honor the 
departed as one of the greatest st itesmen of the age, as 
a disinterested politician, and a- a scholar and orator un- 
equalled; and that we see in his long and successful 
career, a bright incentive to do our duty well, leaving the 
reward to the judgment of our fellow-men. 

Resolved, That we, in common with the President of the 
1 uited States, and her more humble citizens, truly feel 
that the country has sustained an irreparable loss, which 
wo deeply lament. 

Resolved, That our commander he authorized to tender 
the services of the Company, for militan escort and fare- 


well honors to the remains of* this truly great man, to his 
Honor the Mayor or such persons as have the funeral 
obsequies in charge. 

Resolved, That the flag be placed al half-mast on our 
armory, until after the funeral. 


Born at Dorchester, Mass. April 11, 1794. 

Attended Village School in Dorchester, 1 7 ! • 7 . 

Attended school in North Bennet Street, Boston, 1803. 

Attended private school, Short Street, Boston, 1804. 

Attended Public Latin School, Boston, 1805-06. 

Prepared for College at Exeter Academy, 1807. 

Entered Harvard College, 1 > < 1 7 ; graduated 1811. 

Appointed Tutor of Latin at Harvard College, 1812. 

Pastor of Brattle Street Church, 1813-14. 

Published "Defence of Christianity," 1814, 

Professor (if Greek Literature at Harvard College, 1815-25. 

Studied at University of Gottingen, 1816-17. 

Decree of P. D. conferred at Gottingen, 1817. 

Returned from Europe in 1819. 

Editor of North American Review, 1820-23. 

ered Phi Beta Kappa Oration, August, 26, 1824. 

Member of Congress from 1825 to 1835. 

] ),■-!,, nt LI,. I>. conferred at Vale College, 1833. 

Degree of LL. D. conferred by Harvard College, 1835. 

Governor of Massachusetts from 1836 to 18-10. 

Sailed for Europe, June, 18 I". 

Minister to the Court of St. .lame-, 1841-44. 

Degree of LL. D. conferred by University of Cambridge, Eng- 
land, 1842. 


Degree of LL. I>- conferred by Dublin University, Ireland, 

Decree of J. C. 1>. conferred by University of Oxford, England, 

President of Harvard College, 1846-1849. 

Decree of LL. D. conferred by Dartmouth College, 1849. 

Secretary of State of the United States, 1852. 

Chosen President of the Board of Trustees Public Library, 1852. 

United State- Senator from Massachusetts, I s 53. 

Resigned Senatorship, May, 1855. 

Oration on Washington (first time), February 22, 1856. 

Nominated for the Vice-Presidency of United State-, 1860. 

Chairman of Commission on a Military Academy for Massachu- 
setts, 1863. 

Chosen Presidential Elector, 1864. 

Address in aid of the citizens of Savannah, January 9, 1865. 

Died in Boston, January 15, 1865. 

Obsequies in Boston, January 19, 1865. 

[He has sunken before the Municipal Authorities of Boston on 
the following occasions] : — 

Boston Public School Examination, July 23, 1837. 

Dinner in Faneuil Hall, July 4, 1838. 

Railroad Jubilee, September 19, 1851. 

Dinner to Thomas Baring, September 16, 1852. 

Dinner in Faneuil Hall, July 4, 1853. 

Boston School Festival, duly 23, 1855. 

Dedication of Public Library, January 1, 1858. 

Dinner in honor of Mehemmcd Pasha, May 25, 1858. 

On the death of Rufus Choate, Faneuil Hall, July, 1859. 

Eulogy on Daniel Webster, Music Hall, September 17, 1859. 


3 1 ■"> 

Dinner to the Sanitary ( invention, June, I860. 
Oration in Music Hall, July 1. 1860. 
Dinnei to offi :ers of the Russian Fleet, June 7, 1864. 
Reception of the officei-s and crew of the Kearsarge, November 
10, 1864. 

I 6 1939 

Lki'd.x Library 

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