*B in 052 
 , f 
 
 H)n 
 a0jcrw 
 
 n 
 
ARTHUR MASON KNAPP 
 
 
 J839-J898 
 
 a Memorial 
 
 "... that best portion of a good man's life, 
 His little, nameless, unremembered acts 
 Of kindness and of love." 
 
 BOSTON, MASS. 
 
 1899 
 
A <-, 
 
A RTHUR MASON KNAPP 
 ~\ was born August 8, 1839, at 
 Saint Johnsbury, Vt., a place then, 
 as now, remarkable among New 
 England villages for the high moral 
 and intellectual tone of its inhabit- 
 ants, and as the seat not only of an 
 important business enterprise but of 
 an excellent institution of learning. 
 It was in an ideal and an idyllic 
 environment that the active mind 
 and sensitive nature of the boy 
 found happy and normal develop- 
 ment. Though he removed with his 
 parents to Boston when he was fif- 
 teen years old, he cherished a very 
 warm affection for his native place, 
 and a just pride in it, as long as he 
 lived. No vacation was complete 
 that was not prefaced or supple- 
 mented by a visit to the haunts of 
 his boyhood. 
 
 Of his ancestry much might be 
 3 
 
 M208789 
 
said, for one of the recreations of 
 his later years was an exhaustive 
 study of the genealogy of his family, 
 the result of which is a monument 
 of the patience and thoroughness 
 which marked all his investigations, 
 whether for himself or for others. It 
 is enough here to say that he was of 
 the seventh generation in descent 
 from William Knapp, who came from 
 England to this country, probably 
 with Sir Richard Saltonstall, in 1630, 
 and became one of the first settlers 
 of Watertown, Mass. ; and that his 
 parents were Hiram and Sophronia 
 (Brown) Knapp. 
 
 A thoughtful, studious boy, it was 
 a matter of course that, on remov- 
 ing to Boston, Arthur should con- 
 tinue the line of study begun in the 
 St. Johnsbury Academy, and he was 
 at once placed in the Boston Latin 
 School, then under the head-master- 
 ship of Francis Gardner, to whom 
 he doubtless owed, in some measure, 
 the habit of accuracy, the love of 
 research, and the enthusiasm for 
 
knowledge which were of such serv- 
 ice to him and to the public in later 
 years. Here he was graduated in 
 1859, at the head of a class in which 
 there was a large number of good 
 scholars, having borne off year after 
 year prizes for "exemplary conduct 
 and punctuality," for " excellence in 
 the classical department," for "trans- 
 lations into Latin verse," and a 
 Franklin medal. One of his class- 
 mates writes : 
 
 "I well recall the Latin School - 
 the room just as it looked in my 
 boyhood, and the faces of the boys 
 Arthur usually at the head of the 
 class. Arthur was the boy who 
 could not be floored anywhere in 
 that Latin Grammar. Several of us 
 knew it well, but he knew every 
 word of it." 
 
 And another, who was his chief 
 competitor, adds to similar testimony, 
 that Arthur held his leadership with 
 such unassuming modesty as never 
 to excite a feeling of jealousy among 
 his classmates. 
 
 5 
 
He entered Harvard College with- 
 out conditions a record which was 
 at that time a mark of distinction 
 and was graduated with honor in 
 1863. His preference was for the 
 classical and the scientific studies, 
 but with characteristic fidelity he 
 neglected none, and this was before 
 the day of electives. 
 
 Though he missed somewhat of 
 the social life of college by residing 
 in Boston during his entire course, 
 walking to and from Cambridge 
 every day, he made some warm and 
 lasting friendships, and maintained 
 through life a loyal interest in his 
 alma mater, from which he held the 
 degree of A.M. as well as that of 
 A.B. He often spoke with pride of 
 the record made by his class since 
 graduation, referring not only to 
 those who, like John Fiske, Gov- 
 ernor Greenhalge, Secretary Fair- 
 child, Frederick Brooks, and others, 
 have been leaders of thought and 
 action, but to the entire membership, 
 which, almost without exception, is 
 6 
 
composed of men of high principles 
 and useful lives. 
 
 In September following his gradu- 
 ation Mr. Knapp began teaching in 
 the classical department of Phillips 
 Academy, Andover, under Dr. Samuel 
 H. Taylor; but in May he was obliged 
 to relinquish this position on account 
 of a sudden and painful lameness, to 
 which he was henceforth subject, at 
 longer or shorter intervals, for the 
 rest of his life. While still on crutches 
 he went as private tutor of one of 
 his Andover boys, to Irvington on 
 the Hudson, where he remained 
 nearly a year. In June, 1865, he 
 was appointed sub-master of the 
 Brookline High School, a position 
 which, with the exception of a few 
 months in 1865-66, during which he 
 served as usher in the Boston Latin 
 School, he held for ten years. 
 
 Mr. Knapp had in a marked degree 
 many of the qualities essential to a 
 successful teacher. A genuine sym- 
 pathy with his pupils, not only in 
 their work but in their pleasures, 
 
won their affection, while the extent 
 and accuracy of his knowledge com- 
 manded their respect. He was com- 
 panion and friend as well as teacher, 
 and many of his former pupils, 
 whom he always spoke of as his 
 " boys " and " girls," could testify to 
 his life-long interest in them. Those 
 were happy years which he spent in 
 teaching years of growth, too, for 
 he was ever a pupil with his pupils, 
 learning while he taught. 
 
 But Mr. Knapp was to find a 
 larger field for the exercise of his 
 powers. From earliest boyhood he 
 had evinced an extraordinary love of 
 books, delighting not only in their 
 contents but in their covers and 
 title-pages. A remarkable memory, 
 too, he had for what he read, and he 
 very early formed the habit of asso- 
 ciating ideas and classifying facts, 
 filling his books with clippings and 
 marginal notes, to which he turned 
 with readiness and satisfaction for 
 information or confirmation upon any- 
 subject under discussion in the 
 8 
 
family circle. His school and col- 
 lege work, as well as his teaching, 
 had been characterized by love of 
 research, accuracy of scholarship, 
 and great painstaking in the search 
 for truth, while his retentive memory 
 had made of his mind a well-ordered 
 storehouse of knowledge. These 
 and other tastes and habits of mind 
 developed by education and strength- 
 ened by experience, rendered his 
 appointment to the service of the 
 Boston Public Library particularly 
 fortunate both for himself and the 
 public. 
 
 It was on January 23, 1875, that 
 Mr. Knapp entered upon the work 
 which was to occupy him for the 
 remainder of his life. For twenty- 
 four years he gave heart and soul to 
 the interests of the Library and the 
 public, to which he sought to make 
 its treasures in the largest sense 
 available. 
 
 His first appointment was as Cura- 
 tor of Periodicals and Pamphlets, and 
 of the Prince and Barton Libraries, 
 9 
 
which latter he, in collaboration with 
 another library officer, catalogued ; 
 but for the last twenty years he held 
 the more responsible position of 
 Custodian of Bates Hall. To the 
 fidelity with which he discharged the 
 duties of this office there was abun- 
 dant testimony on the occasion of his 
 death, in notices of the press, not 
 only of Boston but of many other 
 cities ; in official Library notices, and 
 the funeral address of one of the 
 Trustees ; and in innumerable expres- 
 sions of a sense of loss on the part 
 of the patrons of the Library, who 
 make grateful reference to his " ready 
 helpfulness," his " perfect courtesy," 
 his "unvarying kindness," his "ex- 
 traordinary intelligence." 
 
 An article on the Boston Public 
 Library,- by Edmund J. Carpenter, 
 in the New England Magazine of 
 August, 1895, contains the following 
 reference to him : 
 
 "Mr. Arthur Mason Knapp is the 
 librarian in charge of Bates Hall, 
 which position he has occupied since 
 
 10 
 
1 878. His service with the library, 
 however, dates from 1875 ; the 
 removal of the library to the new 
 building, in January of the present 
 year, marked the exact completion of 
 his twentieth year of service. With 
 Mr. Knapp in the library there is 
 little need of a catalogue. The 
 searcher for information concerning 
 any subject which he desires to 
 study has but to apply to him and 
 the material wished is immediately 
 set before him. To the student 
 whose time is precious, or who is 
 but slightly acquainted with the 
 system of the library, Mr. Knapp's 
 aid is invaluable. To procure a new 
 librarian would be an easy task com- 
 pared with that of endeavoring to 
 supply the place of such public serv- 
 ants as Mr. Whitney and Mr. 
 Knapp." 
 
 To those who knew Mr. Knapp 
 thus professionally, as well as to all 
 who knew him personally, it was 
 obvious that there was nothing per- 
 functory in his service. He loved 
 
his work. It was a personal pleas- 
 ure to him to direct students and 
 readers to the sources of knowledge, 
 and to place before them the treas- 
 ures in his keeping. He especially 
 enjoyed solving the literary problems 
 which were continually submitted to 
 him, and the zest with which he fol- 
 lowed, sometimes for weeks, a diffi- 
 cult quest, and his exultation when 
 at last he " struck " some elusive fact, 
 often reminded one of the hunts- 
 man's delight in the chase. Noth- 
 ing could have been more congenial 
 than the atmosphere of books and 
 study in which he lived, or more 
 agreeable than his relations with the 
 immense constituency of readers 
 whom he served, and with his asso- 
 ciates in the work. 
 
 On July 2, 1873, Mr. Knapp mar- 
 ried Miss Abbie Bartlett, daughter 
 of James Bartlett, of Brookline, 
 Mass. Intimately associated as fel- 
 low-teachers, as they had been, and 
 endowed with similar tastes, while 
 yet admirably supplementing each 
 
 12 
 
other, their mutual attraction was 
 most natural ; and the strength and 
 sweetness of her character, the 
 brightness and quickness of her 
 mind, together with her charming 
 personality, rendered their union one 
 of exceptional promise. It was in- 
 deed a happy one, but, alas ! of short 
 duration, for she died January 26, 
 1876. The death of his infant son 
 at the same time was not only a se- 
 vere blow to his affections but a bit- 
 ter disappointment to his hope of 
 perpetuating the family name and 
 traditions. In the shadow of this 
 double sorrow he walked to the end 
 of his days and yet not morosely 
 or selfishly. He could rejoice in the 
 joy of others, though special in- 
 stances of domestic happiness often 
 caused him a pang. He could look 
 and listen with interest when fellow- 
 travelers showed him photographs of 
 their families and discoursed upon 
 them with affectionate pride, and 
 only to his nearest betray the heart- 
 ache that it gave him, adding bravely 
 13 
 
to an expression of his keen sense of 
 loss, " But I must bear it patiently, if 
 I can." 
 
 He did bear it patiently cheer- 
 fully, even, and found genuine hap- 
 piness in serving others, and espe 
 cially in the home which he shared 
 with his mother and sister, and from 
 which he had been absent only dur- 
 ing his brief married life for while 
 in Brookline as well as in college, he 
 had resided with his parents, in 
 Boston. 
 
 What he was to that home as son 
 and brother may not here be told, 
 but only those who knew him there 
 knew him at his best. One who 
 often sat at his table and by his fire- 
 side writes : 
 
 "No one could see him in the 
 freedom and genial fellowship of his 
 home life without being impressed 
 with his gentle, affectionate manner, 
 his generous consideration of others, 
 his sincerity and warmth of heart ; 
 which, added to a wealth of informa- 
 tion and a readiness to add his word 
 
of knowledge on almost any subject, 
 together with a delicate humor that 
 often irradiated his conversation, 
 made him a most enjoyable compan- 
 ion. His knowledge never made him 
 condescending, nor did his own liter- 
 ary tastes cause him to despise or 
 disregard the tastes of others. He 
 was the most companionable of men. 
 
 " These qualities, which character- 
 ized him always and everywhere, 
 were most conspicuous in his own 
 home, among his own books, in the 
 society of his friends and his family." 
 
 Another writes : 
 
 " I have never known a more de- 
 voted son, a more affectionate 
 brother, or a kinder friend." 
 
 An old family servant writes : 
 
 " I shall always thank God that I 
 had the privilege of being Mr. 
 Knapp's humble servant for eleven 
 years. In all those years I never saw 
 a frown on his face. He was always 
 pleasant and good and kind, and I 
 have felt ever since I left him that I 
 had a friend to go to if I was in need." 
 '5 
 
Though he greatly valued his 
 friends, Mr. Kriapp shrank from gen- 
 eral society, and a natural reserve 
 veiled from strangers his peculiarly 
 frank and sunny nature. Unconven- 
 tional in his tastes and with the heart 
 of a boy, he was content with simple 
 pleasures and was happiest in the 
 quiet joys of home. Vacation letters 
 telling of keen enjoyment contain 
 such expressions as these : 
 
 " And yet, as always when away 
 from you, I am eager to have my va- 
 cation over, that I may return to my 
 loved ones." 
 
 Again : 
 
 " My vacation has been a very 
 pleasant one, but I am willing to go 
 back to my work and to my own 
 folks. People here are very kind 
 and courteous, but none of them be- 
 long to me." 
 
 But Mr. Knapp had many resources 
 of diversion in his quiet home life. 
 Reading was of course the principal 
 one. This was both a pastime and a 
 business, for he sought not only to 
 16 
 
keep abreast, as far as possible, with 
 the reading public, but to know what 
 was going on in the world at large, 
 as well as in the literary world. He 
 had the art of reading rapidly with- 
 out reading superficially, and in ad- 
 dition to weightier matters found 
 time for a good deal of biography, 
 travel and fiction. He never lost his 
 enjoyment of the Greek and Latin 
 classics, and in his last years many 
 times read through his Anabasis and 
 Caesar as a morning recreation, with- 
 out once having occasion to consult 
 the dictionary. Of modern lan- 
 guages he read easily German and 
 French, and had some knowledge of 
 Spanish. 
 
 He always had at hand for his 
 spare hours some special study, as 
 that of genealogy, or of coins, in 
 which he found relaxation and pleas- 
 ure. He was skillful in the use of 
 carpenters' tools and enjoyed contrib- 
 uting thereby to the comfort and 
 convenience of the household. He 
 loved the book-stores, and often for 
 17 
 
his afternoon outing simply ex- 
 changed the library for the book- 
 stall. Among these and the curio- 
 shops he spent the most of what he 
 called his "cigar money." He kept 
 pace with the growth of the Art 
 Museum, to which he was for many 
 years a subscriber, and no one re- 
 joiced more than he at every gener- 
 ous gift made to that institution. 
 
 His love of nature, of which he 
 was keenly observant, contributed 
 much to his enjoyment of life. He 
 was in the habit of taking long walks 
 in the suburbs and parks of Boston, 
 where he was quick to note the vary- 
 ing aspects of tree and shrub, while 
 he appreciated with an artist's eye 
 the beauties of the landscape. 
 
 His vacations were passed mostly 
 among the mountains of New Hamp- 
 shire, to which he returned year after 
 year with ever fresh delight, greeting 
 familiar scenes like old friends, and 
 repeating favorite walks with all the 
 enthusiasm of a first visit. Many will 
 long remember him as a delightful 
 18 
 
companion and guide over the hills 
 and by the river, in West Campton 
 and, earlier, in Gorham, N. H., where 
 he spent many happy summers. 
 
 His first visit to the White Moun- 
 tains was in 1862, when, with two of 
 his classmates, he made a pedestrian 
 tour from Boston, via Concord and 
 Lake Winnepesaukee, to the summit 
 of Mt. Washington, including all the 
 principal places of interest in that 
 region. A complete diary of the 
 trip, contained in home letters, reads 
 often like a record of toil and hard- 
 ship, but to him it was an experience 
 of keen enjoyment, the discomforts 
 of which only piqued his love of ad- 
 venture. 
 
 Mr. Knapp made two visits to 
 Europe, the first in 1874, when, ac- 
 companied by his wife and his sister, 
 he followed in general the route 
 of the summer tourist in England 
 and on the continent, having first 
 enjoyed some glimpses of Ireland 
 and Wales and more than a glimpse 
 of Scotland. This was an experi- 
 19 
 
ence of almost unalloyed pleasure, 
 for which his reading and study had 
 amply prepared him. Familiar with 
 the historical and legendary and the 
 literary associations of places visited, 
 and with an appreciative eye for the 
 beauty and grandeur of scenery, he 
 looked at things also practically 
 and could always give facts and 
 figures, as well as impressions, re- 
 garding them. In view of the fact 
 that he had as yet no thought of 
 engaging in library work, it is inter- 
 esting to note, in the home letters 
 which form a complete diary of his 
 travels, his interest in the manu- 
 scripts and rare editions of the 
 British Museum, the Bodleian, and 
 other Libraries, and his persistent 
 efforts on several occasions to see 
 some treasure of this sort not acces- 
 sible to the general public. He 
 studied people as well as things, and 
 noted national and individual char- 
 acteristics. Nothing escaped his 
 keen and quick observation. 
 
 In 1880 Mr. Knapp made a second 
 
visit to England, and though he 
 sadly missed the companionship 
 which had enhanced every enjoy- 
 ment of the former visit, he was 
 more than ever impressed with the 
 natural beauty of the "snug little 
 island " ; with the magnificence of 
 its cathedrals, of which he made a 
 thorough study ; and with the vast 
 resources of its libraries, where he 
 now received courtesies and privi- 
 leges due a professional librarian. 
 
 Although he had not traveled ex- 
 tensively, Mr. Knapp was so well 
 informed in regard to foreign coun- 
 tries that he sometimes gave the 
 impression of having visited those 
 which he knew only through books. 
 He was especially interested in 
 Japan, and a visit to that country 
 was among his unfulfilled dreams. 
 For he looked forward to a period, 
 not of idleness nor of selfishness, 
 either of which would have been im- 
 possible to him, but of comparative 
 leisure, in which he might more 
 freely indulge various quiet tastes 
 
 21 
 
and command more than a summer 
 vacation for travel. 
 
 He was in the enjoyment of his 
 usual health, when, on the ninth of 
 December, he felt the first almost 
 imperceptible touch of paralysis. 
 Not recognizing it as such, however, 
 he remained at his post the next day 
 a busy Saturday though suffer- 
 ing greatly from the progress of the 
 disease, which in a few days took 
 complete possession of the left side 
 of the body, mercifully leaving un- 
 touched the noble mind. The pain- 
 ful, though brief, illness was borne 
 with patience and fortitude, and the 
 gentle spirit was released from the 
 body on the twenty-seventh of De- 
 cember, 1898. 
 
 It was not an eventful life here 
 briefly sketched, but it embraced the 
 deepest experiences of joy and of 
 sorrow, and covered tranquil years of 
 cheerful service. It made little noise 
 in the world, but like a broad, benefi- 
 cent stream, it blessed and bright- 
 ened all it touched. 
 
 22 
 
There was in Mr. Knapp a rare 
 blending of gentleness and strength. 
 He could be stern in his denuncia- 
 tion of wrong, and he hated all sham 
 and cant and insincerity ; but he had 
 such mastery of himself that he could 
 suppress the strongest emotions, and 
 his good-nature seemed absolutely 
 imperturbable. His manner was al- 
 ways quiet ; his voice, so expressive 
 of himself, was invariably pleasant 
 and kindly. 
 
 He was a man whom to know 
 once was to know always, for he 
 was true to himself to his princi- 
 ples and his sentiments. Nothing 
 could make him swerve from what 
 he believed to be the path of duty. 
 Neither time nor absence had power 
 over his friendships. Friends who 
 met him after years of separation 
 and silence were greeted with as 
 much warmth and familiarity as if 
 there had been no interruption of 
 intercourse. He loved old friends, 
 familiar scenes, the home of his boy- 
 hood, the city of his adoption, his 
 23 
 
country. In everything he was loyal 
 and true. 
 
 Of his religious life, as of all deep 
 experiences, he said little ; but he was 
 a devout and reverent believer in the 
 simple gospel, and his life was con- 
 scientiously ordered by its precepts. 
 Tolerant as he was of all sorts of 
 fads, he had little patience with those 
 who seek to substitute something 
 else for the Christian religion. He 
 was for many years a loyal mem- 
 ber of the Shawmut Congregational 
 Church, serving it quietly, but with 
 warm heart and generous hand. He 
 was interested in all organizations 
 and enterprises that have for their 
 object the amelioration of mankind, 
 and, according to his means, contrib- 
 uted to their support. Many a young 
 man is largely indebted to him for 
 his education. 
 
 Much more might be said, but this 
 tribute of a sister's affection is writ- 
 ten as under the eye of one whos.e 
 modesty sought to conceal his vir- 
 tues. K. K. 
 24 
 
Some extracts from home letters 
 will illustrate characteristics men- 
 tioned, and still further reveal the 
 man and his way of looking at 
 things. 
 
 The first are from the boyish diary 
 of the pedestrian tour referred to. 
 
 'July 21. Finding a good-looking 
 barn we asked permission to sleep 
 there [the first night out] and were 
 allowed to do so. We had hardly 
 taken our knapsacks off when we 
 were surrounded with boys and girls 
 collected from the neighborhood. 
 We amused them at first with the 
 spy-glass, and when it was too dark 
 for that we performed some very 
 simple gymnastic feats. At every 
 one they were completely dumb- 
 founded and would exclaim, " I tell 
 you that takes muscle!" "That is 
 as good as a circus ! " etc. We got 
 so thoroughly into their good graces 
 that they offered us pillows and 
 quilts, but of course we declined 
 with thanks. After they had gone 
 we had a good laugh, for what we 
 25 
 
did was very simple, and all the 
 apparatus we had was a pole, so that 
 we could only turn somersaults and 
 do a very few things. Two of the 
 boys held the pole on their shoulders 
 while we turned. I rather think 
 they were a little lame the next 
 morning. At a little before nine we 
 spread the tent on the hay, wrapped 
 our shawls around us and went to 
 sleep. Twenty-three miles to-day.' 
 
 'July 26. Spent the night in a 
 barn arid started early in the morn- 
 ing and after walking four or five 
 miles began to look out for break- 
 fast. Stopped at several places but 
 were unable to find any one who 
 could accommodate us. At last we 
 called at a pleasant house near a 
 large pond and were told we could 
 have such as they had. It was 
 Saturday and they were rather 
 poorly off, they said. We had cold 
 lamb (very nice), bread and milk 
 with splendid blueberries, white 
 strawberries fresh from the vines, 
 three kinds of pie, cake and cheese, 
 26 
 
water and cider all for twelve 
 cents apiece ! Then we took a row 
 of an hour on the pond and amused 
 ourselves till the sun got too warm, 
 when we went up to the top of a high 
 hill and lay down and snoozed. Spent 
 an hour and a half looking at the 
 splendid view of Squam Lake and 
 vicinity, eating berries and oiling our 
 shoes. Walked along very leisurely 
 as it was too warm for fast walking. 
 Took a bath in a small stream to 
 cool off. Stopped for dinner at the 
 house of a man who preaches Sun- 
 days and cobbles week days. We 
 slept a while under some trees and 
 then pushed on past some very high 
 mountains. Reached Campton Hol- 
 low at about 8 P.M., and applied at a 
 large house for Sunday board. We 
 have made it a plan to apply at large 
 nice houses, for they are apt to be 
 neater and the people are more will- 
 ing to accommodate. We were re- 
 ceived here after some hesitation.' 
 
 'July 28. We had about the 
 pleasantest time at Dr. Sanborn's I 
 27 
 
ever had. The family were so pleas- 
 ant and obliging, and when we came 
 to settle they refused point blank to 
 accept anything. They said they did 
 not keep a tavern and hardly ever 
 entertained strangers, but for some 
 reason or other they knew not 
 why they received us. We bade 
 them good-by last night, but found 
 this morning that they were up and 
 had a hot breakfast for us, and that 
 the doctor was intending to give us a 
 lift in his wagon. Mrs. S. gave us 
 a pan of cookies to eat among the 
 mountains, as they would taste good, 
 she said, and a large bundle of sand- 
 wiches to eat during the day. The 
 doctor carried us up to the borders 
 of Woodstock, ten miles on our way. 
 He took us through the pleasantest 
 scenery he could find, fording the 
 Pemigewasset and riding along in 
 the bed of the stream, which was 
 only five or six inches deep. 
 
 ' After beginning our walk we kept 
 on for two or three miles until we 
 came to a brook, where we bathed 
 28 
 
and also washed some clothes. The 
 brook was a perfect jewel, full of 
 little waterfalls and looked as if it 
 had some trout in it. After that we 
 walked on a mile or two and then 
 stopped to rest, for it was awfully 
 hot. Got dinner and walked a few 
 rods, till we came to a little church, 
 in the shadow of which we are now 
 resting, waiting for it to get a little 
 cooler. We are only four and a half 
 miles from the Flume House and in 
 the midst of very lofty mountains 
 and splendid scenery. We are en- 
 joying ourselves very much now, bet- 
 ter than during the first part of the 
 trip, when we were so sore and lame. 
 We can see the Franconia Notch 
 very plainly from this spot where we 
 are resting.' 
 
 ' July 30. My last letter was writ- 
 ten on the top of a high hill near 
 Bethlehem, and now we are twenty- 
 three miles from that place. We 
 walked to a farmer's a little this 
 side of Bethlehem and took supper 
 and found a barn to sleep in. I 
 29 
 
never slept better in my life than I 
 did there on the hay, not waking 
 once from the time when I lay down 
 till this morning at half past four 
 o'clock. Marched seven miles before 
 breakfast, then got our bread and 
 milk. After breakfast we walked on 
 till we came to a good place for 
 bathing. We have bathed in the 
 Sowhegan, at its junction with the 
 Merrimac, in Lake Winnepesaukee, 
 the Ammonoosuc, and a great many 
 small streams. We had hardly 
 started on our way when we were 
 overtaken by a very severe thunder- 
 storm. We walked on, hoping to 
 find some shelter, till we reached the 
 White Mountain House, where we 
 took dinner. While we were here 
 the Mr. B., whom I mentioned in my 
 last letter, drove up in great style, 
 with four horses, two servant men, 
 etc. He spoke very pleasantly to us 
 and said we might meet again. 
 
 ' We started for Crawford's at 1.45 
 and just after we had passed Giant's 
 Grave another tremendous storm 
 30 
 
came up and we were obliged to 
 walk four miles in as hard a rain as I 
 ever saw, with mud almost over our 
 shoes. When we reached Crawford's 
 we found Mr. B.'s party and one or 
 two others whom we had seen before 
 at the Profile House, and we were 
 immediately the lions of the day, and 
 were surrounded by ladies, gentle- 
 men, and children, and questioned 
 and wondered at to our hearts' con- 
 tent.' 
 
 * July 31. Started at about 8 A.M. 
 for Mt. Washington and reached the 
 Tip-Top House at 2 P.M. after nearly 
 six hours' climb. I never saw such 
 traveling, the ascents sometimes 
 being as steep as the roof of a house, 
 and over loose rocks, so that we had 
 to jump from one to another, which 
 was very fatiguing, and my strength 
 was not as great as usual. 1 About 
 two hours from the summit it began 
 to rain hard, and we could not hold 
 umbrellas, for the wind blew a per- 
 fect hurricane. We were all of us 
 
 1 He had been ill the day before. 
 
 3 1 
 
soaked through and through. When 
 we reached the Tip-Top House I was 
 so used up that I sat down on the 
 floor and almost dropped asleep. A 
 gentleman saw how badly off I was 
 and guided me to the Summit House, 
 where beds could be had. I called 
 for a room, had myself rubbed dry, 
 changed my clothes completely and 
 lay down. I fell asleep immediately 
 but slept only a few minutes. I felt 
 better when I awoke and after a 
 hearty dinner felt perfectly well. 
 The rain cleared off towards night 
 and gave us a splendid sunset and a 
 very good view. There were four of 
 us Harvard boys there and a gentle- 
 man with his daughter. We had the 
 Summit House to ourselves and en- 
 joyed the evening very much, sitting 
 around the fire. The. house is a real 
 snug little place, with very small 
 rooms just large enough for a bed 
 and a passage along the front side of 
 it. The partitions are of cloth, so 
 that every word which is spoken in 
 any room can be distinctly heard. 
 32 
 
The beds looked quite neat, but when 
 I turned down the clothes I found 
 that they had not been well aired, 
 and so we slept on the outside with 
 our shawls around us. I never 
 passed a more quiet or comfortable 
 night in my life. Up at half past 
 four to see the sun rise and were so 
 fortunate as to find the morning 
 clear. At 4.4$ the sun appeared and 
 gave us a most gorgeous sight. 
 There were clouds far below us, upon 
 which the rays of the sun struck 
 and tinged them with a rosy light. 
 The clouds were magnificent, like a 
 great white sea, with here and there 
 a dark green mountain top project- 
 ing. We could see the Green Moun- 
 tains distinctly, and a mist or cloud 
 where the ocean lay. 
 
 'At about 7.30 A.M. six of us, in- 
 cluding Mr. W. and his daughter, 
 started with a guide for Tuckerman's 
 Ravine, a deep gorge between Mt. 
 Washington and Mt. Franklin. After 
 an hour's scramble over the rocks, 
 down the channels of brooks, over 
 33 
 
numberless difficulties, we reached 
 the bottom. Here we found an 
 enormous amount of snow and en- 
 joyed ourselves snowballing, sliding 
 on the snow, etc. There is an arch 
 through the snow three hundred feet 
 long and wide enough for several 
 persons to go abreast. The snow is 
 thirty or forty feet deep above the 
 arch. I found several kinds of 
 flowers growing near the snow and 
 some Greenland plants, and made 
 quite a collection, but have given 
 them away to two ladies here who 
 are very much interested in botany 
 and had a great desire to possess 
 them. We scrambled back over the 
 rocks and reached the top at about 
 eleven o'clock. [Here follows an ap- 
 preciative account of the " pluck" of 
 the young lady of the party.] Took 
 dinner and started down the carriage 
 road for the Glen. Saw lots of peo- 
 ple who had seen us before. They 
 would come up and say, " Ah, here 
 are the travelers we have met so 
 often ! " and would begin conversing 
 34 
 
with us as pleasantly as if we had 
 been clothed in purple and fine linen. 
 We walked down to the Glen House 
 in less than three hours. The road 
 is a splendid triumph of engineering, 
 not at all steep, rising one foot in 
 eight and a half, very wide, sloping 
 inwards, and with a high wall round 
 the outside. At the Glen House we 
 met a party which we had met at 
 Crawford's and at the Tip-Top 
 House, and also a classmate of ours. 
 Started for North Conway in the 
 afternoon and visited Crystal and 
 Glen Ellis Falls on our way, by far 
 the finest falls I ever saw. Walked 
 seven miles without seeing a house 
 and did not see even a clearing till 
 8.30 P.M., when we came upon a party 
 of eleven fellows encamped in front 
 of a house. All but three were stu- 
 dents of Brown University. They 
 had a team to carry their baggage, a 
 large tent to sleep in, and everything 
 necessary for a good time. They in- 
 vited us to spend the night with 
 them and we did so. ... In the 
 35 
 
morning started at a little past five 
 and walked till we came to a place to 
 bathe. Took breakfast at Jackson 
 and reached North Conway at 11.30, 
 having walked thirteen miles. Here 
 I found Sister and was n't I glad to 
 see her ! I had not heard a word 
 from home since I left Concord, 
 where I found a letter from George.' 
 
 The diary closes with the record 
 of a solitary march of forty-four miles 
 on a hot day, the party having broken 
 up at North Conway, where he spent 
 a few days. 
 
 The following selections are from 
 letters written during his first Euro- 
 pean tour: 
 
 1 EDINBORO, July i, 1874. 
 
 'This morning we started at 10.15 
 for Melrose and Abbotsford. On 
 the way we passed Crichton and 
 Borthwick Castles, both in ruins, the 
 latter mentioned by Scott in Mar- 
 mion. At Melrose we spent about 
 an hour examining the ruins of the 
 Abbey. I was prepared for disap- 
 36 
 
pointment, but was delighted with 
 everything we saw. The capitals 
 and carved work are exquisite, far 
 beyond anything we have seen be- 
 fore. The ornaments are not eaten 
 away by the tooth of time, but seem 
 as sharply edged as at first. Such 
 numbers of figures expressing every- 
 thing possible to be expressed in 
 stone grotesque faces, distorted 
 bodies, saints and demons, apostles 
 and kings, a perfect museum of carv- 
 ing. We saw the tombs of Alex- 
 ander II and his queen Joanna, the 
 wizard Michael Scott, James Douglas, 
 killed in the famous Chevy Chase 
 in 1388, and others of the same line, 
 the spot where the heart of Robert 
 Bruce was buried, the grave of Tom 
 Purdie, the faithful forester of Wal- 
 ter Scott. 
 
 ' We then rode about three miles 
 to Abbotsford, where we were raced 
 through the apartments open to the 
 public, glancing at portraits of Scott, 
 his mother, wife, son, and daugh- 
 ters, of James IV and VI, Cromwell, 
 37 
 
Dryden, Thomson, Queen Eliza- 
 beth and Mary, of the Duchess of 
 Buccleuch, to whom the Last Min- 
 strel tells his Lay, and others that I 
 now fail to recall ; at interesting ob- 
 jects, such as guns belonging to Rob 
 Roy, Andreas Hofer, and Scott ; 
 swords of his son and of the 
 Marquis of Montrose, execution 
 swords, a two-handed sword from 
 Bosworth Field, and one from Cullo- 
 den ; armor and weapons of all 
 kinds from all lands and times ; 
 Mary Queen of Scots' seal, and a 
 painting of her head in a charger ; 
 lots of beautiful and rare memen- 
 toes ; gifts from illustrious persons 
 of different lands ; carved and inlaid 
 furniture four or five centuries old. 
 I could have spent hours there in- 
 stead of a few minutes. We then 
 drove to Dryburgh Abbey, where we 
 saw the tomb of Scott and those of 
 his son, his wife, his daughter, and 
 Lockhart. Mrs. Lockhart is buried 
 in London. Scott's great-grand- 
 daughter, his only descendant, is to 
 38 
 
be married next month (or this) to a 
 Mr. Maxwell, who takes the name of 
 Scott and resides at Abbotsford, 
 which, after the fifteenth of this 
 month, is to be closed to the public. 
 It seemed hard that a man like 
 Scott, who had worked so long and 
 faithfully, should not be allowed to 
 live longer to enjoy the fruits of his 
 toil. 
 
 'We took train at St. Boswell's 
 and returned home. Our usual 
 good fortune attended us the 
 weather was just right and all our 
 plans prospered. Just before we 
 entered our hotel the rain began 
 to fall and it continued for some 
 time.' 
 
 'LONDON, July 24, 1874. 
 
 ' To-day we have spent at the 
 
 British Museum, hard at work seeing 
 
 an infinite number of interesting 
 
 things. We first visited the gallery 
 
 of Roman statues. I was interested 
 
 in the busts of the emperors and the 
 
 old classic writers so familiar to me. 
 
 39 
 
In this department were splendid 
 mosaics, some containing admirable 
 human faces, as fine in color and 
 outline as a painting one face as 
 much as five feet in height. 
 
 * We then examined the Elgin 
 marbles, among which we saw the 
 frieze of the Parthenon, statues by 
 Phidias, immense fragments from 
 the Mausoleum of Mausolus. You 
 can form some idea of the statues of 
 that structure from the fact that my 
 hand out flat would not cover one 
 toe of a woman's foot we saw. 
 
 * In the Egyptian Hall we saw a 
 granite fist as large as a hogshead ; 
 the head of Rameses II, nine feet 
 high ; a sarcophagus supposed to 
 have once contained the body of 
 Alexander the Great ; the Rosetta 
 Stone, the key to the hieroglyphics ; 
 multitudes of statues, monuments, 
 etc. We also saw in another room 
 an Egyptian wig; the bones of 
 Mycerinus, who lived a hundred 
 years before Abraham ; together with 
 an immense number of smaller ob- 
 
 40 
 
jects like those in the Way collec- 
 tion in Boston. 
 
 'We passed through rooms contain- 
 ing Assyrian antiquities, colossal stat- 
 ues of human-headed lions and bulls ; 
 Egyptian papyri in wonderful preser- 
 vation ; vases of all sizes and shapes ; 
 bronzes ; Greek and Roman armor ; 
 bells from the early shrines and 
 churches of Ireland (one from that 
 of St. Senan, who died in 554) ; 
 glass from the earliest period up ; 
 ancient British and Saxon relics. 
 The gem room, to which we were 
 admitted, contained the famous Port- 
 land Vase, thousands of the most 
 wonderful cameos and gems, speci- 
 mens of jewelry from Nineveh, 
 Babylon, Etruria, and other ancient 
 lands, coins, rings, etc. One cameo 
 head of Augustus is said to be worth 
 three thousand guineas. The Blacas 
 collection (a small part of the con- 
 tents of the room) cost forty-eight 
 thousand pounds. 
 
 ' In the Library we saw first edi- 
 tions of Shakespeare, Milton, Dante, 
 41 
 
Don Quixote, Walton, Robinson 
 Crusoe, Common Prayer ; the book 
 that gave Henry VIII the title of 
 Defender of the Faith ; the first 
 printed copy of the Psalter, 1457 ; 
 first book with a date; first Greek 
 classic printed ; first printed Virgil, 
 1501 ; Horace, printed from the 
 smallest type ever made; first 
 Chaucer, 1476 (Caxton) ; Fifteen 
 O's and Other Prayers, 1490 (Cax- 
 ton) ; The Game and Playe of the 
 Chesse, 1474 (Caxton) ; the first 
 book ever printed in England ; the 
 first Bible ever printed, 1450 (a de- 
 fective copy sold at auction lately 
 for thirty-four hundred guineas) ; 
 the Mazarin Bible, 1455 ; old char- 
 ters by Ethelred, Edgar, Canute, 
 Edward the Confessor, Henry I, 
 Richard I, Odo of France, and 
 many other kings or dignitaries ; 
 Codex Alexandrinus, fifth century ; 
 Genesis and Exodus, 464 ; Bible 
 written by command of Charlemagne, 
 796-800; Jewish roll of the Penta- 
 teuch, fourteenth century ; many of 
 42 
 
the most elegantly bound books and 
 manuscripts, the covers in some in- 
 stances being set with jewels.' 
 
 The next day after describing a 
 number of historic localities visited, 
 he says : 
 
 ' We then walked up to the British 
 Museum, for I was bound to see 
 Shakespeare's autograph, which we 
 were unable to see yesterday. By 
 dint of inquiry and persistency we 
 succeeded in seeing that and the 
 original Magna Charta, which is not 
 usually shown. The latter was nearly 
 destroyed in a fire many years ago, 
 but was carefully flattened out and 
 placed under glass. The seal was 
 an irregular mass of wax. We 
 also saw another copy made at the 
 same time but not signed by the 
 king. 
 
 ' One of the attendants gave me a 
 pass to the Reading Room, an im- 
 mense dome 140 feet in diameter, 
 larger than that of St. Peter's at 
 Rome, though not nearly so high. 
 Having satisfied our curiosity here, 
 43 
 
we walked home well pleased with 
 our day's work.' 
 
 * SALISBURY, July 30, 1874. 
 
 ' Immediately after breakfast we 
 had a barouche and span ready and 
 started for Stonehenge. Soon we 
 passed Old Sarum, so famous as a 
 British, Roman, Saxon, and English 
 stronghold, and often referred to in 
 the great Reform struggle of 1832, as 
 it could send members to Parliament 
 although having no inhabitants. Al- 
 fred the Great built part of the forti- 
 fications in 871 and soon after fought 
 a great battle with the Danes near 
 by. The appearance of the ruins is 
 very striking, being quite a high hill, 
 the sides artificially graded. 
 
 ' After riding a few miles we came 
 to Salisbury Plain, over which we 
 drove, the turf being so smooth and 
 soft that the wheels made no noise, 
 and the ground so level that one 
 could drive in any direction perfectly 
 well. This country is chalk forma- 
 tion, and everywhere scattered 
 
 44 
 
through the chalk are flint nodules 
 of all sizes up to half as large as my 
 head. These often are of fantastic 
 shapes, like bones, and when scat- 
 tered along singly or in small heaps 
 give a very strange, graveyard ap- 
 pearance to the country. There 
 were great numbers of little blue 
 bells thick with blossom, like the 
 bull-thistle, but not on a stalk, small 
 white convolvuli, and many other 
 flowers. Here and there we saw 
 fairy rings, of all sizes, sometimes 
 single circles, sometimes intertwined. 
 I always supposed one must use con- 
 siderable imagination in distinguish- 
 ing between the ring and the sur- 
 rounding grass, but here the contrast 
 was as marked as between green 
 grass and ripe oats. I had often read 
 of such phenomena in Scott's poems, 
 but had never seen them before. As 
 we approached our destination we 
 passed many tumuli, supposed to be 
 ancient graves, some standing alone 
 fifteen or twenty feet high and one 
 or two hundred feet in circumference, 
 45 
 
others surrounded by a ditch forming 
 a perfect circle. 
 
 ' We could see the Druidical stones 
 long before we reached them. You 
 can form no idea of the strange im- 
 pressiveness of these old monuments 
 no habitation near, only a vast 
 plain with here and there a shepherd 
 with his flock, or a startled hare run- 
 ning swiftly away. The stones are 
 enormous, far surpassing my expec- 
 tations. I had seen the size stated 
 in books, but figures could give no 
 idea of their vastness. 
 
 * After spending about an hour here 
 we started on our return, by another 
 route which took us along the valley 
 of the Avon, through a most lovely 
 region. The air was filled with the 
 song of larks, which were as common 
 as sparrows and robins with us. 
 Now and then one would rise far up 
 into the clouds and then suddenly 
 drop to the earth. I had never seen 
 a lark before, and was delighted to 
 see them so abundant and so tame, 
 for they did not seem alarmed by the 
 4 6 
 
carriage, but kept on singing even 
 when we were very near. Some of 
 the farmhouses with thatched roofs 
 and fresh green hedges and immense 
 elms seemed like the pictures of 
 English homes I have often seen. 
 In one wall I noticed splendid fossils, 
 ammonites, a foot or more in diam- 
 eter. Just before reaching home we 
 passed the site of the old Royal 
 Tournament ground, one of the five 
 places appointed in the time of 
 Richard I for such exercise. 
 
 ' Immediately after our arrival at 
 the hotel we walked up to the Close, 
 which includes many houses, the 
 Bishop's Palace with its gardens of 
 several acres, and a very extensive 
 green about the cathedral itself. As 
 the door was open we went into the 
 cathedral and were taken about by 
 the verger, who was very intelligent 
 and satisfactory. The building is 
 the most beautiful, and most nearly 
 approaches my ideal of a cathedral, 
 of any we have seen, not even ex- 
 cepting York and Westminster. The 
 47 
 
spire is four hundred feet high and 
 most graceful and elegant, the carv- 
 ings fresh and entire, the whole per- 
 fect. Within, repairs are in progress 
 which, when complete, will make 
 the interior exquisite. The Chapter 
 House is entirely restored and re- 
 sembles those of York and West- 
 minster, particularly the latter. The 
 cloisters are the most beautiful we 
 have seen and in the center are two 
 very large cedars of Lebanon. 
 
 'We afterwards strolled through 
 the Bishop's Garden, a most charm- 
 ing place, where we saw some mag- 
 nificent trees among them some 
 very large cedars of Lebanon, one at 
 least two and a half feet in diameter. 
 Just as we left the cathedral a hard 
 shower came up, but it lasted only 
 about ten minutes, when the sun 
 came out and the greensward around 
 the building became inexpressibly 
 beautiful in the bright light, relieved 
 now and then by the shadows of 
 grand old elms. 
 
 'You may know that Old Sarum was 
 4 8 
 
removed to a lower site, the present 
 city of Salisbury, and we were in- 
 terested in seeing numerous carved 
 stones in the wall around the Close, 
 evidently brought from the old city. 
 * This was our last day in England 
 and was a most glorious finale to our 
 stay on the snug little island.' 
 
 'CHAMONIX, August 13, 1874. 
 1 Yesterday morning we started at 
 seven o'clock from Geneva on the 
 diligence. The road for miles ran 
 through scenery not very unlike that 
 of New Hampshire, the houses and 
 villages, however, very different. 
 As we approached the mountains, 
 the country changed ; instead of hills 
 mountains surrounded us on every 
 side, often we were completely shut 
 in, precipices on all hands. We fol- 
 lowed the valley of the Arve most of 
 the way, often hundreds of feet above 
 it, but so near that a slight toss 
 would send a stone into the stream. 
 At St. Martin's we stopped for lunch, 
 and had directly before us the Mont 
 49 
 
Blanc range of snow-capped summits. 
 You can form no idea from words or 
 pictures of the splendor of the sight. 
 The day was one of the most perfect 
 ever created, the sun bright and 
 warm, and the reflection from the 
 vast fields of snow utterly indescrib- 
 able. The whiteness was such that 
 a white envelope held up in com- 
 parison looked gray and dingy. 
 
 The road was a triumph of engi- 
 neering, for miles and miles running 
 along the sides of the mountains, 
 with a constant and uniform ascent, 
 cut out from the solid rock which 
 towered above us often hundreds of 
 feet. On the other side of the road 
 the descent was as great. We were 
 all on the outside of the coach and 
 could look directly down, perhaps a 
 thousand feet, to the Arve, flowing 
 in its rocky channel below. In one 
 place we went through quite a long 
 tunnel. Towards three o'clock we 
 entered Chamonix, where we put up 
 at the Mont Blanc Pension. From 
 my window I can look directly out 
 50 
 
upon Mont Blanc and half a dozen 
 others from two to three miles high, 
 all glittering in their robes of white. 
 I shall not attempt description, but, 
 as usual, make my letter a journal of 
 my adventures and wanderings.' 
 
 From the second series of letters ; 
 'CANTERBURY, June 24, 1880. 
 
 ' I think you would have laughed 
 to see me to-night at the Saracen's 
 Head, seated at a table before 
 me a huge piece of roast beef from 
 which I cut slices from time to time ; 
 a mass of cheese a foot square ; a 
 loaf of bread like that in the picture 
 of the Cottager's Daughter ; a mug 
 of beer and a cup of tea trying my 
 best to make up for the hardships 
 and famine of the past twelve or 
 thirteen days [the voyage]. . . . 
 
 ' Before hunting up an inn I wan- 
 dered through the streets of this 
 quaint old city, looking with curiosity 
 at its many ancient streets, churches, 
 and houses. A great many of the 
 latter have projecting stories or gable 
 5 1 
 
ends, entirely unlike anything in our 
 country. Just after leaving the sta- 
 tion I passed through the only re- 
 maining gate of the city, looking like 
 some ancient castle, and just by it was 
 the church of St. Dunstan, where 
 Sir Thomas More's head is buried, 
 resting upon the breast of his daugh- 
 ter Margaret. You may remember 
 Tennyson alludes to her in his Dream 
 of Fair Women. The story is told 
 in the Book of Golden Deeds. 
 
 * By chance I stumbled upon this 
 queer old inn perhaps centuries 
 old, and liked its appearance so well 
 that I concluded to stay over night. 
 The cheer placed before me, you al- 
 ready know. My room is up one 
 flight, huge rough beams across the 
 ceiling, pictures upon the walls, and 
 handsome furniture evidently the 
 best room. 
 
 * June 25. I arose early and took 
 a long walk before the rest of the 
 household were stirring. You know 
 the English are not famous for early 
 rising, rarely beginning the day be- 
 
 52 
 
fore nine o'clock. After wandering 
 around through various streets, such 
 as Mercery, where the pilgrims used 
 to purchase offerings, indulgences, 
 etc., I came to St. Martin's Church, 
 which antiquaries assign to the sec- 
 ond century. It may not be so old 
 as that, but at least it is centuries 
 older than the Cathedral, as its ap- 
 pearance plainly shows, the material 
 of which it is built being largely 
 Roman brick. I wish I could depict 
 to you its beauty and make you see 
 it as I saw it this morning. There 
 had been rain in the night, but now 
 the sun was shining and everything 
 sparkling in its light. The grass and 
 foliage seemed even greener than 
 English green. 
 
 1 The church stands on the side of 
 St. Martin's Hill, and the approach 
 is directly up the steep to the front, 
 which is mainly a huge square tower 
 covered with the greenest, glossiest 
 ivy, the stems of which have united 
 near the ground into a solid mass of 
 wood at least three feet thick. The 
 "53 
 
door is very small and on each side 
 is an old yew tree. The ground 
 around is a burying place which for 
 its size has more beautiful monu- 
 ments than any other cemetery I 
 know of. Most of them are recum- 
 bent or in the form of old crosses 
 with quaint carvings. I have photo- 
 graphs which will give you some 
 idea of its appearance. 
 
 ' I also visited Dane John, a park 
 containing the remains of the old city 
 walls and an artificial mound from 
 which there is a fine view of the sur- 
 rounding country, and then hurried 
 back to my hotel, where I had a 
 most delicious breakfast.' 
 
 * SALISBURY, June 26, 1 880. 
 ' Visitors are not allowed to enter 
 and stroll about the Cathedral till 
 after morning service, which lasts 
 from ten to eleven. This late begin- 
 ning of sight-seeing is a very serious 
 inconvenience in my progress. Our 
 party consisted of a gentleman and 
 two ladies, who were in great haste 
 54- 
 
to catch a certain train. Their haste 
 spoiled my enjoyment, and so after 
 they had gone I purchased a guide- 
 book from the verger, and in consid- 
 eration of this was told that I might 
 take my time, go where I pleased, 
 the doors of the choir and of the 
 cloisters being left unlocked for my 
 convenience. I was glad to accept 
 the offer and stayed for an hour or 
 more, viewing it thoroughly from all 
 points, sitting down occasionally and 
 feasting my eyes. I could hardly 
 keep back the tears as I gazed. 
 Nothing so beautiful, so grand, and 
 so impressive ever met my eyes. 
 Six years ago it was in process of 
 restoration, all except the nave be- 
 ing boarded up. Now everything is 
 perfect, clean, bright, and glorious. 
 I don't believe there is any building 
 on earth more beautiful in itself and 
 its surroundings.' 
 
 * OXFORD, June 28, 1880. 
 * After securing a room at the 
 Mitre and leaving my handbag, I 
 55 
 
took my Barton Catalogue 1 and 
 started for the Bodleian Library. 
 Here I was received very cordially 
 and shown through the library, 
 through room after room of manu- 
 scripts to which the public are not 
 admitted thousands and thousands 
 of volumes of manuscripts of price- 
 less value. 
 
 1 1 afterwards spent some hours in 
 strolling through the various col- 
 leges, the buildings, the quads, the 
 walks, the parks, etc. What a para- 
 dise Magdalen College is, with its 
 gardens, park, meadows, deer, Addi- 
 son's Walk and other attractions ! 
 
 ' I then returned to the hotel, ate 
 a hearty dinner, read, wrote some 
 postal cards, and retired at about 
 eight o'clock, strangely fatigued con- 
 sidering the little work I had done.' 
 
 'June 29. This morning I awoke 
 at a very early hour, thoroughly 
 rested, and ready for one of the 
 most glorious days in my eventful 
 
 1 The catalogue of the Barton Library (see p. 10), a copy 
 of which he took as a gift to the Bodleian. 
 
 56 
 
career. After what the English 
 would call an early breakfast, I took 
 the train for Warwick, passing 
 through Banbury, where I bought 
 some delicious, freshly baked Ban- 
 bury cakes. At Warwick I was un- 
 able to see the castle, as the Earl 
 was at home and would allow no one 
 to visit even the grounds. 
 
 ' I arranged with a fly (i. e., car- 
 riage) to take me to Coventry and 
 other places. We drove all about 
 Warwick, visited St. Mary's Church 
 and Beauchamp Chapel, saw Leices- 
 ter's Hospital, and then drove down 
 to the bridge over the Avon, whence 
 we had a beautiful view of the castle. 
 We then started for Coventry. You 
 have probably heard of the two 
 Englishmen who laid a wager as to 
 the most beautiful walk in England. 
 Upon comparing notes it was found 
 that one had named the road from 
 Coventry to Warwick, the other that 
 from Warwick to Coventry. I agree 
 perfectly with both. 
 
 ' Imagine a broad road eight or ten 
 57 
 
miles long, shaded on both sides with 
 magnificent elms and oaks ; a hard, 
 smooth roadway about twenty-five 
 feet wide, in the center, and at one 
 side, beneath the shadow of these 
 huge trees, a footpath from three to 
 six feet wide, carefully graded and 
 graveled, and all the remaining 
 space between the trees fresh green- 
 sward. That is the road we drove 
 over. But more remains to tell. 
 
 * After stopping to admire Guy's 
 Cliff, I was advised to visit Stone- 
 leigh Abbey. This was in ancient 
 times an abbey occupied by Cister- 
 cian monks, but seized by Henry 
 VIII and confiscated. Much of the 
 house is comparatively modern, in 
 style not very unlike Chatsworth. 
 Most of the rooms are paneled from 
 floor to ceiling with old oak. It is 
 a storehouse of interesting portraits 
 and other works of art. I saw original 
 portraits of Henry VIII and Eliza- 
 beth, both by Holbein ; of Durer, by 
 himself ; of Byron ; and many by 
 Vandyke and Kneller. The park is 
 58 
 
immense and every seven years is 
 perambulated by a large party of 
 men and boys to fix the boundaries. 
 The circuit is over thirty and less 
 than forty miles. Through this park 
 we drove for several miles before we 
 got back to our Coventry turnpike. 
 At Kenilworth I stopped and saw 
 the ruins of the castle. We drove 
 all about Coventry, so that I have a 
 very good idea of that interesting, 
 dirty old city. 
 
 'The whole drive was perfectly 
 glorious with my pen I can give 
 but a slight idea of it. The only 
 drawback was your absence. ... At 
 Coventry I took cars for Rugby, 
 where I was obliged to wait an hour 
 for a train to Leicester. At the 
 latter place I was forced to wait fifty 
 minutes for a train to Nottingham. 
 Between Nottingham and Lincoln I 
 had a capital view of Newark Castle, 
 where King John died in 1216. 
 
 ' At Lincoln I stopped at the Great 
 Northern Railway Hotel. Took a 
 short walk before breakfast and after 
 59 
 
breakfast was so fortunate as to find 
 the verger ready to show the Cathe- 
 dral before the morning service. 
 This saved me a delay of five hours 
 in reaching Boston. The hill lead- 
 ing up to the Cathedral is the steep- 
 est I ever saw in any city. It is like 
 going up stairs with stairs left out. 
 At a little shop I happened to see a 
 plate of old coins in the window. 
 I went in, looked them over, and 
 bought a lot of Roman and very old 
 English coins, silver and copper, for 
 a few pence apiece. Lincoln was a 
 Roman city, and in digging sewers 
 old coins, mosaic pavements, etc., 
 are often found. . . . Took cars for 
 Boston, passing in plain sight of the 
 castle of Tattershall, erected in the 
 fifteenth century, now in ruins, but a 
 most imposing brick-work tower. 
 
 * At Boston I saw the old church in 
 which John Cotton preached, and on 
 my mentioning the letter in my 
 charge [in the Boston Public Library] 
 from Cotton to his wife, the verger 
 took me up a winding stairway in 
 60 
 
one of the little towers, to a room to 
 which the public are not admitted, 
 and showed me the old registers of 
 marriage signed by Cotton, and the 
 record of Cotton's own marriage, 
 also old manuscripts, old books worth 
 their weight in gold, and other curi- 
 ous things. The registers are com- 
 plete from 1 5 58 to the present time 
 a very unusual circumstance. I had 
 a very pleasant time at a little house 
 opposite the church, where the 
 verger lives and where I called to 
 look at photographs which I saw ex- 
 hibited in the window. The woman 
 who waited upon me was a very 
 pleasant, talkative person. It was 
 market day, and such a hubbub and 
 noise as filled the market-place, peo- 
 ple shouting the merits of their 
 wares, Cheap-Jacks in full blast, just 
 as Professor Churchill represents in 
 Dr. Marigold's Prescription, and 
 other strange sights and sounds.' 
 
 ' July I. At Cambridge I made for 
 Trinity College, the finest English 
 foundation to be seen anywhere. 
 61 
 
Upon entering the library I was told 
 that strangers were not admitted, 
 but when I presented my card, was 
 told that that made all the difference 
 in the world. The librarian was 
 very attentive and showed me about, 
 pointing out the rarities. It is a 
 beautiful room, or hall, and contains 
 a very valuable collection of books. 
 
 * I walked about a good deal, 
 through the pleasure grounds along 
 the Cam, the quads of different col- 
 leges, to the University Library, 
 where my card was immediately sent 
 to Mr. Bradshaw, the Librarian, who 
 received me with open arms. For 
 an hour or more I was treated with 
 the utmost kindness, and when I left, 
 Mr. Bradshaw accompanied me to 
 the lower door. You see it is some- 
 thing to be a professional. Mr. 
 Winsor sent me a most flattering 
 letter of introduction to one of the 
 officers in the British Museum, which 
 I have not yet used.' 
 
 62 
 
TRIBUTES. 
 
 From a great number of tributes, public 
 and private, all of which were most grateful 
 to a bereaved family, a few are selected, in 
 order to show that in the various relations of 
 life, as well as in his home, Mr. Knapp was 
 honored and loved. 
 
 The funeral services, held in Shawmut 
 Church, were conducted by the pastor, Rev. 
 William E. Barton, D.D., assisted by Rev. 
 James DeNormandie, D.D., representing the 
 Trustees of the Public Library, and by Rev. 
 S. E. Herrick, D.D., a family friend. The 
 pall-bearers were Mr. Herbert Putnam, Mr. 
 James L. Whitney, and Mr. Lindsay Swift, 
 representing the Library staff; and Mr. Frank 
 Wood, Mr. Frederic Hinckley, and Mr. W. A. 
 Chapin, representing Shawmut Church. The 
 large attendance of men and women from 
 various walks in life testified to the respect 
 and affection in which he was held. 
 
ADDRESS OF 
 REV. JAMES DENORMANDIE, D.D. 
 
 The work of a great Public Library 
 can be appreciated only by those 
 who know something of it. You see 
 a large and beautiful building shel- 
 tering seven or eight hundred thou- 
 sand volumes ; you see the ceaseless 
 procession of patrons ; you see the 
 attendants delivering to them the 
 books ; and you think this is all, and 
 that it is plain and easy. Of what is 
 done before the public can be served ; 
 of the vast and hidden details ; of 
 the choice and cataloguing and ar- 
 rangement of books ; of the years 
 of careful preparation ; of the co- 
 operation, industry, studied and un- 
 broken attention ; of the promptness 
 and forbearance ; of the patience and 
 knowledge and alertness required to 
 meet the daily demands of thousands 
 of inquiring minds of all this noth- 
 ing is known. 
 
 6 4 
 
The public is most exacting of its 
 servants, and feels that all their time 
 and strength and acquisitions belong 
 to it without a moment's delay, with- 
 out any manifestation of impatience 
 or weariness. 
 
 To have been for nearly a quarter 
 of a century in such a service is itself 
 a great testimony to one's worth, 
 and to have been for twenty years 
 the trusted head of one of the lead- 
 ing departments of the Public Library 
 is a proof of merit to which words 
 can add very little. 
 
 The accumulated and well-arranged 
 learning of our friend, as if it were 
 all in a multitude of familiar drawers, 
 was freely given to any inquirer. 
 Many came every day to ask not only 
 for books, but to know what books 
 or what essays had been written 
 upon every subject recent or ancient, 
 plain or abstruse, that the fertile 
 mind of man has ever thought of 
 and here was one who seemed to 
 remember all ; whose good taste and 
 good judgment were ever ready to 
 65 
 
suggest not only books, which is a 
 very little matter, but the best books, 
 which is a very important matter 
 touching the higher questions of life. 
 So that his daily work was to give to 
 hundreds better ideals of human ac- 
 tions and human character, making 
 his mission one with all those who 
 in every form of teaching, in journal- 
 ism, in schools, and in the church 
 are helping this to be a better 
 world. 
 
 What knowledge, what gracious- 
 ness, what a ready and unfailing 
 sympathy, what a sense of humor, 
 which so lightens the annoyances of 
 public station, what a spirit of self- 
 denying, what faithfulness marked 
 his daily life. 
 
 When St. Paul would express the 
 highest merit of a steward he says, 
 " It is required that a man be found 
 faithful"; and when Jesus Christ 
 would set the seal of divine favor and 
 divine joy upon a man's work, he 
 told the beautiful story of one who 
 was faithful to his talents, his gifts. 
 66 
 
Servants and stewards of the Most 
 High, all of us, our best reward is 
 that we be found faithful. Only 
 faithful ! In the midst of so much 
 that is unfaithful, in the midst of so 
 many noisy activities which count for 
 nothing and end in nothing, God 
 grant that when our work, like his, 
 is done, there may be written upon 
 it the promise of Jesus, "Thou hast 
 been faithful over a few things, I will 
 make thee ruler over many things, 
 enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." 
 
 We know it cannot be otherwise, 
 and we would not have it otherwise, 
 but the heart has its own way of 
 looking at the things which belong 
 to the heart, and we are never ready 
 for the summons which calls our 
 loved ones away. The separation is 
 always hard, and we miss the familiar 
 voice and the loved form, and the 
 lonely paths are the sad paths. The 
 heart knows its own bitterness, and 
 loves to dwell upon it. We see 
 those on whom our hopes are cen- 
 tered, whom we have most fondly 
 67 
 
loved, drop away, and we ask, " Are 
 the infinite purposes defeated, or are 
 we listening only to an unfinished 
 tale, to be told out elsewhere ? " It 
 is in the presence of death that we 
 first and most surely believe there is 
 no death. 
 
 What this loss is to this inner 
 circle, privileged to be at one with 
 him, we may not now venture to say, 
 but they will be grateful as long as 
 they live for this life, and they know 
 that he will be with them still in in- 
 numerable sweet and precious mem- 
 ories of gentle companionship, of 
 daily duty and sacrifice, of unfalter- 
 ing devotion, of unbroken love ; in 
 influences which belong to the things 
 which are unseen, but eternal. 
 
 It is ever the story of old ; a cloud 
 has received him out of our sight. 
 The veil of the future is never lifted, 
 but because it is not, we believe it 
 has fallen around us from the same 
 Eternal Goodness which makes this 
 life so dear and grateful. 
 
 68 
 
What to us is shadow to him is day, 
 
 And the way he knoweth, 
 And not on a blind and aimless way 
 - .; The spirit goeth ; 
 
 but a way which duty, faith, and love 
 make straight and shining to the 
 Eternal Home. 
 
 69 
 
ADDRESS OF 
 REV. WM. E. BARTON, D.D. 
 
 The custom of speaking publicly 
 of our friends when they have been 
 taken from us is manifestly decreas- 
 ing, yet it is one which I shall be 
 sorry to see wholly given up. There 
 are so many lives that have been 
 little known that deserve a tribute 
 of respect ; there are so many other 
 lives that have been such examples 
 of conspicuous faithfulness that it 
 seems inappropriate that they should 
 withdraw and no friend take public 
 note of their departure ; and there 
 are other lives whose lesson is so 
 patent that we only need to stand a 
 moment and say, " Faithful ! He has 
 been faithful, and God has taken 
 him," and yet we want to say so 
 much as that at least. 
 
 Dr. DeNormandie has spoken of 
 the fidelity of our friend in that 
 which he made his life work. Of 
 70 
 
that fidelity Dr. DeNormandie has 
 known well. In this quarter of a 
 century it was the fortune of others 
 to know him here in this church and 
 in the beauty of his home life. Of 
 that home life I may not speak ; he 
 was always the model son, the model 
 brother ; there are no regrets ; there 
 is nothing to forgive. That home 
 life was one of rare beauty and sym- 
 metry. Married for two and a half 
 years, his infant son and his young 
 wife were taken from him at once ; 
 and that sad event cast a shadow 
 over all the years that he lived after- 
 ward so sad a shadow that he 
 rarely mentioned it, even to those 
 who were nearest to him. Yet he 
 lived a cheerful life, an unusually 
 happy life. The fidelity which those 
 recognized who knew him in his 
 public work was characteristic of 
 every part of his life. Indeed, I 
 think we may say it was the key to 
 an interpretation of his life. He was 
 found faithful. 
 
 It is not easy for us to analyze the 
 7* 
 
character of our friends. We may 
 do that with strangers and those 
 whom we have known at a distance, 
 but we rarely find joy in doing it 
 with those who live nearest to us. 
 In the half a dozen years that I 
 knew Mr. Knapp, I think perhaps I 
 came to know him somewhat un- 
 usually well. I knew him, indeed, in 
 his work in the Library. It was an 
 inspiration to me, coming to this old 
 city, so rich in its historic and liter- 
 ary associations, to have him spread 
 out before me in the Library rare old 
 editions and ancient manuscripts and 
 parchments, about which I had read 
 but which I had never seen, and 
 some of them literally worth their 
 weight in gold many of them 
 worth far more for the treasures 
 which they contained. It was a 
 never-ceasing inspiration to know 
 him in that way, a man of liberal 
 education and intellectual tastes. 
 He had read so widely and di- 
 gested what he knew so well, and 
 arranged his knowledge so as to 
 72 
 
make it so readily available, that 
 those who came for information, 
 eager themselves for knowledge 
 but many of them knowing little 
 how they might obtain it, always 
 found him ready. In special studies 
 which I found time to pursue, he 
 was my most faithful and helpful 
 friend. 
 
 But it was in other relations that 
 I knew him best. In this church he 
 was a consistent, regular attendant, 
 a member whose interest extended 
 to the whole work and prosperity of 
 the church. He was a man of sin- 
 cere and simple faith, a man who 
 worshiped God in the beauty of holi- 
 ness. He was a man whose intellec- 
 tual nature had not swallowed up his 
 spiritual life, he was a man who in 
 his own secret heart lived near to 
 God. He was not an ostentatious 
 man, and he would have been the 
 last to wish to-day for fulsome praise. 
 The words which are spoken of him 
 are the simple facts about him, 
 which are more eloquent than any 
 73 
 
studied words of careful eulogy or of 
 extravagant praise. 
 
 He delighted in the service of 
 God. He never sought official posi- 
 tions ; when this church pressed 
 upon him offices, in his modesty he 
 shrank from them and declined them. 
 Yet even so modest a man as he 
 could not live in a church all these 
 years without being known for his 
 true worth, and those who knew and 
 honored him here are saddened, 
 every one, by his departure. Of 
 him I think may be said that rare, 
 rich thing, that all who knew him 
 honored him, and all who knew him 
 well loved him ; and those who to-day 
 speak these words, which are meant 
 to be words of comfort, might, in 
 their own thought, more fitly take 
 their pla'ce among those who need to 
 be comforted. 
 
 Death is the one great fact in 
 human life to which we refuse to 
 adjust our thought. We know that 
 we must die ; we know nothing so 
 certain as death ; yet it comes to us 
 74 
 
with a surprise. We count it an in- 
 trusion, a sort of impertinence, and 
 we are never quite prepared for it. 
 It seems to us an incongruity, an 
 inconsistency ; and our persistent 
 refusal to accommodate ourselves to 
 it, our yearning for something more, 
 our insistence that what seems the 
 end cannot be the end, is the high- 
 est tribute which the mind of man 
 has ever paid to the dignity and the 
 beauty of life and its continued 
 desirability ; and that we can suffer 
 as we sometimes suffer in the loss of 
 those who are taken from us is the 
 richest tribute which God enables 
 any human heart to place upon the 
 bier of friendship and of love. We 
 need the words and the hopes of the 
 Gospel. We need to strengthen our 
 faith with all our knowledge of the 
 dignity and the worthiness of human 
 life. We need the inspiration and 
 the certitude of the Gospel of Jesus 
 Christ, and the truth that in his 
 resurrection, his newness of life, 
 there is hope for all who sleep in 
 75 
 
him. In him we may learn to inter- 
 pret death anew, even as we have 
 learned already in part the larger 
 meaning of death in the world with- 
 out us. 
 
 I remember how the day died and 
 how the sun went down and left the 
 earth in darkness, and had I seen it 
 only once I should have thought that 
 that was the end ; but I remember 
 that even as the sun sank to its 
 grave the west grew glorious with 
 colors more splendid than those of 
 the noontide ; and even as I look 
 and peer into the darkness, there 
 shines about me the gray and then 
 the red and then all the golden, glo- 
 rious luster of the dawn. And I 
 remember how the year died, how 
 the leaves fell one by one, and were 
 hurried along by the keen cold blast ; 
 I remember how the heavens put on 
 their mourning robes of cloud, and 
 wept their tears over the great dead 
 world, and then gently covered it in 
 its shroud of snow ; and had I seen 
 it only once I should have thought 
 76 
 
that that must be the end. Yet 
 never a leaf fell from the tree but 
 left beneath it the bud of a larger 
 life ; and never a winter came but 
 the autumn grew glorious in all the 
 colors of the rainbow, which were 
 not painted by the utility of nature, 
 but grew out of the abundant hope 
 which is God's promise of another 
 year when earth shall rise from win- 
 ter and live in the glory of the 
 spring. And so I remember how my 
 friend died, and slipped away when 
 the arms of love were not long 
 enough or strong enough to hold 
 him, and how there was borne out 
 from our home the sacred dust which 
 still looked as he had looked, and 
 reminded us of every gracious act and 
 kindly word ; and I have seen it but 
 a few times, and so at first it seems 
 to me that this is the end ; but I 
 comfort myself with the promise and 
 hope of him to whom the mysteries 
 of this life and the next were clear, 
 who himself tasted death for every 
 man, and who rose triumphant from 
 77 
 
the dead, leading captivity captive, 
 that we might say, " O death, where 
 is thy sting ? O grave, where is thy 
 victory ? " Wherefore let us com- 
 fort one another with these words of 
 the Blessed Saviour and of those to 
 whom he gave wisdom for our pres- 
 ent comfort. 
 
 78 
 
TRIBUTE OF His CLASS. 
 
 At a meeting of the class of 186^, of Harvard 
 College, held on Commencement Day, June 28, 
 1899, the following tribute, offered by Mr. 
 Thomas B. Peck, was adopted and placed on 
 record : 
 
 Arthur Mason Knapp died at his 
 home in Boston, December 27, 1898, 
 after a brief but painful illness, of 
 paralysis. He had been engaged in 
 his usual employment in the Boston 
 Public Library up to the time of his 
 illness, and although somewhat deli- 
 cate in physique, is believed to have 
 been usually in possession of good 
 health. From his boyhood onward 
 he had been remarkable for his love 
 of literature. At the Boston Latin 
 School, where he was prepared for 
 college, he stood easily at the head 
 of a class which contained a large 
 number of good scholars. Some- 
 what older and therefore more ma- 
 ture in mind than most of his 
 79 
 
classmates, he was enabled by his 
 industry, his clearness of mind and 
 his remarkable memory to hold his 
 leadership, and did so with such 
 unassuming modesty as never to 
 excite a feeling of jealousy among 
 his classmates. He held a high 
 rank for scholarship during his col- 
 lege course, in which he showed 
 the same capacity and devotion to 
 study as in his school days. His 
 intellect was sound rather than bril- 
 liant. While he won the respect of 
 the class by his sterling traits of 
 character, his retiring disposition 
 and the fact that he made his home 
 with his parents in Boston and spent 
 the working hours of the week only 
 in Cambridge prevented him from 
 becoming as well known in the class 
 socially as would otherwise have 
 been the case. 
 
 To an unusual degree Knapp's life 
 was spent in a congenial atmosphere 
 of books and study. After gradu- 
 ation he adopted the profession of 
 teaching, and taught in the Phillips 
 80 
 
Academy in Andover and in the 
 Brookline High School, until in Janu- 
 ary, 1875, ne entered the service of 
 the Boston Public Library. After 
 serving for about three years as 
 Curator of Pamphlets and Periodicals 
 and Keeper of the Prince and Barton 
 Libraries, and during this time pre- 
 paring, in connection with Mr. J. M. 
 Hubbard, a Shakespearian Catalogue 
 which was highly commended, he 
 was appointed Librarian of Bates 
 Hall, and held this responsible posi- 
 tion until his last illness, a period of 
 more than twenty years. Here he 
 found his life work, and in this em- 
 ployment his life was spent happily 
 and in the highest sense of the word 
 successfully. His life must have 
 been happy, because his modest am- 
 bitions were satisfied, his tasks were 
 such as were best suited to his tastes 
 and talents, and he must have 
 enjoyed the consciousness that he 
 had won the esteem and friendship 
 of those with whom he was brought 
 into pleasant relations in the per- 
 81 
 
formance of his daily duties. His 
 life was truly successful, because it 
 was spent in a constant succession 
 of acts of service to others, and in 
 rendering these services, his own 
 stores of knowledge were increased, 
 his mind was expanded and strength- 
 ened, and his character became riper 
 and sweeter. Although he lived 
 among books, he was in no sense a 
 recluse. It was his duty as Librarian 
 of Bates Hall to place his knowledge 
 of the treasures of the Library at the 
 disposal of every applicant needing 
 his help or guidance, and it was said 
 that " almost no other individual in 
 the city was in personal contact with 
 so many people as was Mr. Knapp." 
 In this trying position his patience 
 and courtesy never failed, and so 
 retentive was his memory, so thor- 
 ough his acquaintance with the con- 
 tents of the Library, and so general 
 and exact his knowledge upon a vast 
 variety of subjects, that he rarely 
 failed to supply the information 
 needed. The many tributes which 
 82 
 
appeared in the press after his death 
 uniformly testified to the admirable 
 manner in which his duties were per- 
 formed and to the spirit of Christian 
 courtesy which he displayed to per- 
 sons of all characters, often under 
 circumstances which must have been 
 very trying to his equanimity. These 
 tributes also show how widely he was 
 known as a scholar and as an accom- 
 plished librarian, and how universally 
 he was esteemed and admired by the 
 many frequenters of the Library. 
 
 His faithfulness to his duties was 
 unswerving, while the most hasty 
 visitor could not fail to note that the 
 Library in which he was so impor- 
 tant a factor, was his pride and de- 
 light. His record is one of a life 
 well spent in useful and honorable 
 work, of fidelity to principle, and of 
 native talents developed and strength- 
 ened by cultivation and worthy use. 
 We, his classmates, shall miss him 
 on our visits to the Public Library, 
 at Commencements, which he fre- 
 quently attended, and in the social 
 83 
 
gatherings of the class, while to his 
 associates in his work and to the 
 many students who looked to him 
 for advice and assistance, the loss is 
 almost irreparable. 
 
 84 
 
EXTRACTS FROM OFFICIAL DOCU- 
 MENTS OF THE BOSTON 
 PUBLIC LIBRARY. 
 
 From the Annual Report of the Trustees, February 
 
 The Library has suffered by the 
 deaths and resignations of some of 
 those employed in its service. 
 
 The most conspicuous loss was 
 occasioned by the death of Mr. 
 Arthur Mason Knapp, who was 
 twenty-four years in its service, and 
 for twenty years the Custodian of 
 Bates Hall. His experience, ability, 
 and fidelity were universally acknowl- 
 edged, and possessed an added charm 
 by reason of his agreeable personal 
 traits. 
 
 From the Librarian's Annual Report, February /, 
 7(?99, signed Herbert Putnam: 
 
 The Library has suffered serious 
 loss by death. Most serious indeed 
 was the loss of Arthur Mason 
 85 
 
Knapp, for twenty-four years in its 
 service, and for the last twenty years 
 its chief reference librarian as Cus- 
 todian of Bates Hall. Mr. Knapp's 
 accumulated experience in the work 
 of this position, to which he devoted 
 himself with absolute concentration, 
 stood for an asset of exceeding value. 
 Rather than minute here too briefly 
 the record of his career and service, 
 I append to be printed the notice 
 published in the Bulletin after his 
 death, and passages from the address 
 of the Rev. Dr. James DeNormandie 
 (who as a member of the Library 
 Board spoke with particular knowl- 
 edge) at the funeral services. 
 
 From the Monthly Bulletin, January, i8gg : 
 
 ARTHUR MASON KNAPP. 
 1839-1898. 
 
 On Tuesday, December 27, 1898, 
 died Arthur Mason Knapp, Custodian 
 of Bates Hall in the Boston Public 
 Library. 
 
 He was born at St. Johnsbury, 
 86 
 
Vermont, August 8, 1839, the son of 
 Hiram Knapp and Sophronia Brown. 
 During his boyhood the family re- 
 moved to Boston, where he fitted for 
 college at the Boston Latin School. 
 He was graduated as the first scholar 
 in his class, and entered Harvard 
 College as a member of the class of 
 1863. He held from Harvard the 
 degree of A.M. as well as that of 
 A.B. 
 
 After teaching for some years in 
 Phillips Academy, Andover, in the 
 Boston Latin School, and in the 
 Brookline High School, he entered 
 the service of the Library January 
 23, 1875. His first appointment was 
 to the charge of the special collec- 
 tions of the Library ; from 1878 
 until his death he held the position 
 of Custodian of Bates Hall. 
 
 His knowledge of Shakespeariana 
 and of Elizabethan literature was of 
 great value in the preparation of the 
 catalogue of the Barton collection. 
 In his position in charge of the main 
 reference department of the Library, 
 
 87 
 
his special knowledge of the subject 
 of genealogy and local history, as 
 well as a thorough general knowl- 
 edge of the resources of the Library 
 on all subjects, was of the greatest 
 service to an immense constituency 
 of readers. To the value of this 
 service, rendered with exact con- 
 scientiousness and singleness of pur- 
 pose in its relation to his colleagues, 
 and with assiduity and personal in- 
 terest towards the readers and stu- 
 dents who came to him for assistance, 
 the warm appreciation of all those 
 with whom he came in contact bears 
 witness. 
 
 88 
 
EXTRACTS FROM PERSONAL LETTERS 
 
 Relating to His Work as Librarian 
 and as Teacher. 
 
 " To me it was a delight to deal 
 with a librarian who never offered 
 his views or preferences to my stud- 
 ies, who permitted me always to 
 brush conventional books aside, and 
 quickly understood the pursuit of 
 sound evidence. He had no fads. 
 He could laugh at the credulity of 
 genealogists, whose books he knew 
 better than most librarians. He was 
 a good American and New Eng- 
 lander, yet not parochial. I have no 
 doubt that he was profoundly reli- 
 gious, as no man would have the 
 truthfulness, the courage, the mod- 
 esty, the patient service of others, 
 the unselfishness, that marked him, 
 but a mind steeped in devoutness 
 and sustained by faith." 
 
 "We shall never go to the Library 
 89 
 
without a thought of him. He was 
 so invariably kind and patient and so 
 helpful that no one can ever take 
 just his place." 
 
 " In all the professional work I 
 tried to do in Boston, I was helped 
 more by him to find what I needed 
 than by any one else ; and for that 
 assistance, rendered in his own 
 quiet way, I have always been very 
 grateful." 
 
 " I am but one among the many 
 who have grateful, loving thoughts 
 for courtesy and help and kindness, 
 always so freely bestowed, from my 
 early Latin School days on through 
 college and master's degree work." 
 
 " Mr. Knapp's going out from his 
 field of work affected me to him a 
 stranger very deeply, so valuable 
 had been his assistance to me from 
 time to time, so gentle and patient 
 and kindly was he with every bother- 
 ing request. I never felt at home in 
 90 
 
Bates Hall till he took the chair in 
 the new building, within the reach of 
 every one the scholar and the 
 gentleman to unlock those stores 
 of learning. How deep my debt to 
 him ! How gracious his memory ! " 
 
 From a letter addressed to Mr. George B. Knapp, by 
 Rev. Ed-ward T. Fairbanks, D.D., of St. Johns- 
 bury, Vt.: 
 
 I think of the happy morning 
 when you and I stood in the gallery 
 of Bates Hall and saw him going 
 down with the books to Miss T. 
 It is delightful to have that Hall and 
 Public Library linked in my thought 
 with the little fellow whose young 
 life in Fairbanks Village rounded up 
 into so much dignity and responsi- 
 bility in one of the great city insti- 
 tutions. I think it was a good 
 providence that brought Arthur 
 Knapp, notwithstanding his modest 
 and retiring disposition, up into the 
 place where his excelling worth and 
 abilities could find scope and become 
 appreciated. His life seems to me 
 91 
 
rare and beautiful. We had a short, 
 happy call from him when he was 
 last here. I always expected to see 
 him sometime during the summer or 
 fall as surely as I expected the corn 
 to tassel or the maple orchards to 
 hang out their red banners. These 
 hills and groves were a fresh joy to 
 him every time he came. Dear fel- 
 low ! He was lovable and goodly, 
 strong and true. It pains me to 
 think of you with Arthur no more at 
 your side. Your tastes and his were 
 almost identical, and I know you 
 each appreciated that double kinship. 
 And, in fact, will right along. It is 
 a blessed fact that traits, and loves, 
 are not changed by this translation. 
 And one day the threads will be 
 gathered up again and minds and 
 hearts go on together as aforetime 
 together up higher paths. 
 
 From Prof. Benjamin IV. Wells, of the University of 
 the South, at Sewanee, Tenn. : 
 
 I was both a public and a private 
 pupil of your brother, and was very 
 92 
 
much attached to him in my boy- 
 hood, and he has ever since been 
 connected with the pleasantest mem- 
 ories of my school life. 
 
 I recall particularly his teaching 
 in Latin and in physics. There was 
 a little air of gloom about his room 
 [in the old Brookline High School], 
 especially as compared with Miss 
 Bartlett's beyond, but we found little 
 time to think of that when his teach- 
 ing once began. 
 
 Mr. Knapp was an excellent 
 teacher, careful, precise, rather strict, 
 and inflexibly just. [Here follows 
 the story of an attempted annoyance, 
 which the teacher bore with such 
 unruffled temper that the pupils were 
 shamed into propriety.] 
 
 I think what impressed us all 
 most in Mr. Knapp was his genuine 
 interest in us, as school boys and 
 girls, and afterwards. He never for- 
 got one of his pupils. I have often 
 asked him in later years about old 
 school acquaintances who to me were 
 only names. He seemed to have 
 93 
 
followed them all with affectionate 
 solicitude, and I am sure they all 
 could count on his sympathy in every 
 success and disappointment. 
 
 From Miss Marion McGregor Noyes, Instructor in 
 Philosophy in Colorado College : 
 
 My sense of personal loss in the 
 death of your brother is very great. 
 For many years I have depended 
 upon his friendship and interest, and 
 in returning to Boston have sought 
 him out in the Library, sure of such 
 a welcome as dwells ever in one's 
 memory. . . . 
 
 I find it difficult to describe the 
 unusual element in Mr. Knapp's 
 teaching for unusual it was. Per- 
 haps were I to say that we felt that 
 we were each two persons to him, 
 this would in some degree express 
 my meaning. He valued faithful 
 work and accurate scholarship very 
 highly, and there was great satisfac- 
 tion in winning his word of com- 
 mendation. But we knew that he 
 was so much interested in us person- 
 ally, that even if we were indifferent 
 
 94 
 
or lazy, he would have patience with 
 us and would continue to like us (pro- 
 vided, of course, we had once won 
 his esteem). He made us all feel 
 his interest in us and his ambition 
 for us. And yet I cannot recall that 
 he ever expressed any such senti- 
 ments in words. It was all given in 
 that subtle, quiet way which made his 
 personal relations so unique. . . . 
 
 We were fond of spending our 
 recess with him, and his desk was 
 generally surrounded at this time. 
 His reserve was so great that we felt 
 it a rare privilege when he opened to 
 us the treasure house of his mind, 
 as he was always ready to do when 
 he found us ready to listen. In 
 short, we honored him and loved him. 
 
 He was at one time suffering 
 much from lameness, being obliged 
 to use crutches. His patience under 
 very evident suffering impressed us 
 deeply. It was my privilege to walk 
 with him from the horse-car to the 
 school quite often, and I used to 
 enjoy these times very greatly. He 
 95 
 
would talk about his interests or 
 ours, as the case might be, but 
 always with an alertness of mind 
 and of sympathy which has not been 
 forgotten, I am sure, by any of those 
 pupils who could then, or later, count 
 themselves as among his friends. 
 
 His sense of humor we always 
 counted upon, and we watched for 
 the smile, which he tried in vain to 
 conceal, when one in our class who 
 had the gift of being very amusing 
 albeit not always at the right 
 time was exerting his powers. It 
 was difficult for Mr. Knapp to be 
 severe under these circumstances, 
 and we knew it. 
 
 He taught us to reverence a high 
 standard of work. I think that, 
 more than any teacher I have ever 
 had, he taught us the meaning of the 
 word faithfulness not only to a 
 high ideal, but to our own native 
 powers, whether great or little. 
 This and his unfailing and sponta- 
 neous courtesy seemed to me the 
 central points in his character. 
 96 
 
TRIBUTES FROM THE PRESS. 
 
 From the Boston Herald: 
 
 Arthur Mason Knapp, for twenty 
 years Librarian of Bates Hall, in the 
 Boston Public Library, and in charge 
 during that period of the main card 
 catalogue, died Tuesday at his home, 
 52 Montgomery Street. He was 
 stricken with paralysis early in the 
 month. 
 
 He was a graduate of Harvard, 
 class of '63, and was a classmate of 
 the late ex-Governor Greenhalge, 
 John Fiske, the historian ; ex-Secre- 
 tary of the Treasury, C. S. Fairchild, 
 and F. L. Higginson. He was born 
 in St. Johnsbury, Vt., August 8, 
 1839, and prepared for college in the 
 Boston Latin School. After leaving 
 Harvard he taught the classics and 
 mathematics at Phillips Andover 
 Academy and at the Brookline High 
 School. 
 
 97 
 
On January 23, 1875, he joined 
 the Public Library staff, at first as 
 Curator of Periodicals and Pam- 
 phlets, beside what are called the 
 " cabinet " books in the Barton and 
 Prince Libraries large folios in 
 curious and rare bindings, dear to 
 the bibliophile. He catalogued the 
 Barton Library of Shakespeariana, 
 and acquired in the work a taste for 
 research in Shakespeare's doings 
 that endured to his death. He was 
 married in 1873 to Miss Abbie Bart- 
 lett, who died in 1876. 
 
 In 1878 he was placed in charge 
 of Bates Hall, and became probably 
 the best known personage to the 
 general public around the Library. 
 He was a target for all sorts of ques- 
 tions on every conceivable subject, 
 and was rarely at loss for a satisfac- 
 tory response. He united a patient 
 and courteous manner, a gift for 
 research and a knowledge of the re- 
 sources of the great library, that 
 made him an invaluable aid to the 
 student anxious to explore its riches. 
 98 
 
His place developed a unique variety 
 of talent, which could perhaps be 
 generalized as a knowledge of books, 
 though he sedulously avoided a 
 desultory habit by thoroughly work- 
 ing up a few specialties. He be- 
 came a profound student of early 
 Elizabethan literature, largely as one 
 result of his studies in Shakespeare. 
 He had always kept up in genealogy 
 long before it had attained its pres- 
 ent vogue, and was one of the recog- 
 nized authorities in that curious field 
 of research. 
 
 Aside from these subjects, he had 
 of necessity some sort of informa- 
 tion in almost every branch of 
 knowledge, and in very many had a 
 great deal, the countless questions 
 showered upon him in his daily work 
 compelling a delving in both familiar 
 and out-of-the-way lines. Authors 
 working up a " period " in their 
 work, students looking for a clew to 
 the latest in their branches, stage 
 people seeking points on costume, 
 artists searching for historical " mo- 
 99 
 
tifs," are samples of the varied sort 
 of people he had to meet, all of 
 whom were set agoing satisfactorily, 
 and, if time served, were often buried 
 in an embarrassment of riches. 
 
 The funeral services will be held 
 at two o'clock to-morrow afternoon 
 at the Shawmut Church, corner of 
 Tremont and West Brookline 
 Streets. 
 
 From the Boston Evening Transcript : 
 
 Mr. Arthur Mason Knapp, Custo- 
 dian of Bates Hall of the Boston 
 Public Library, died at his home 
 Tuesday afternoon after a short ill- 
 ness. These tidings will bring sor- 
 row to many who have known him 
 or sought his help at the Library. 
 Mr. Knapp, the son of Hiram and 
 Sophronia (Brown) Knapp, was born 
 at St. Johnsbury, Vt., August 8, 1839. 
 During his boyhood his family re- 
 moved to Boston, where he fitted for 
 college at the Boston Latin School. 
 He was graduated from there as the 
 first scholar in his class and entered 
 
 100 
 
Harvard College as a member of the 
 class of 1863. He held from Har- 
 vard the degree of A.M. as well as 
 that of A.B. 
 
 After a few years spent in teaching 
 in Phillips (Andover) Academy and 
 the Brookline High School he en- 
 tered the service of the Boston Public 
 Library January 23, 1875. He was at 
 first placed in charge of the special 
 collections of the Library, and later 
 appointed Custodian of Bates Hall. 
 
 With absolute devotion he gave 
 to the discharge of the duties of his 
 office an unintermittent service of 
 nearly twenty-four years. To the 
 value of those services, rendered with 
 intense conscientiousness and genu- 
 ine interest, all who have had occa- 
 sion to use the Boston Public Library 
 can bear witness. 
 
 His knowledge of Shakespear- 
 iana and Elizabethan literature was 
 special and thorough, and greatly 
 serviceable in the preparation of 
 the catalogue of the Barton collec- 
 tion, while the general knowledge of 
 
 101 
 
the Library gained by him in the in- 
 terpretation of its resources during 
 twenty years' conduct of the chief 
 reference department of the Library 
 was of immense avail to a large con- 
 stituency of readers. 
 
 Mr. Knapp married July 2, 1873, 
 Miss Abbie Bartlett, daughter of the 
 late James Bartlett of Brookline ; she 
 died January 26, 1876. Since her 
 death he has lived in this city with 
 his widowed mother and his sister, 
 who, with a brother, survive him. 
 He was a member of Shawmut Con- 
 gregational Church, to which he was 
 a generous giver. His funeral will 
 be from that church on Friday after- 
 noon at two o'clock. Rev. William 
 E. Barton will officiate at the serv- 
 ices, and among the pall-bearers will 
 be Herbert Putnam, James L. Whit- 
 ney, and Lindsay Swift of the Public 
 Library. In the hallway of the 
 Library building has been placed a 
 large wreath, tied with a black rib- 
 bon, and bearing an inscription in 
 memory of Mr. Knapp. 
 
 102 
 
From the Boston Journal, omitting facts previously 
 given: 
 
 Mr. Knapp's official title was Cus- 
 todian of Bates Hall. He it was to 
 whom would-be readers or investiga- 
 tors turned for information and help 
 in selecting material for reference or 
 reading. It was his business to 
 know what was at hand and to help 
 persons to it. And in his quiet way 
 he did much to aid many. Probably 
 no one in the Library was more uni- 
 versally liked than was he, and that 
 not only by the public, but by the 
 employees as well. This is shown by 
 the number of communications that 
 have poured in to the Librarian from 
 many persons that had known Mr. 
 Knapp, either as readers or as former 
 employees of the Library, who hasten 
 thus to express sorrow for the loss of 
 such a helper, and to testify to his 
 worth. 
 
 He was graduated from Harvard 
 College in 1863. 
 
 103 
 
From The Congregationalist : 
 
 A PUBLIC SERVANT. 
 
 Arthur Mason Knapp, who died 
 December 27, had probably rendered 
 as definite and helpful services to the 
 citizens of Boston in general during 
 the last twenty years as any of his 
 contemporaries. His position in the 
 Public Library, where he had charge 
 of Bates Hall and the card catalogue, 
 brought hosts of people to him to 
 make inquiries concerning service- 
 able literature. His remarkable 
 knowledge of books, as well as his 
 fund of information on all sorts of 
 subjects, made him an invaluable 
 counselor, while his quiet, even man- 
 ner left its impress upon all who 
 came in contact with him. In the 
 life of Shawmut Church, which he 
 had attended for many years, he filled 
 his own peculiar and important place. 
 
 From the Boston Pilot : 
 
 In recording the death of Mr. 
 Arthur M. Knapp, Custodian and 
 Librarian in Bates Hall of the Bos- 
 104 
 
ton Public Library, which occurred 
 on Tuesday, December 27, 1898, the 
 Pilot desires to add its tribute to that 
 of the general expression of regret at 
 the public loss at his demise. For 
 Mr. Knapp's scholarly attributes, 
 general fund of information, and un- 
 varying urbanity and readiness to 
 put that information at the disposal 
 of all, the Pilot is at one with the 
 cordial acknowledgment in these 
 regards, of the myriads who had the 
 pleasure of Mr. Knapp's friendship. 
 It is no underrating of his successor 
 to hope that even at a long distance 
 he may be able to follow such an 
 amiable public official. 
 
 From Time and the Hour : 
 
 Mr. Knapp will be missed by the 
 old habitues of the Public Library 
 more than any other officer there, 
 since he was for so many years the 
 " man at the front " during the day- 
 time. He enjoyed the best sort of 
 popularity, won by courtesy, urban- 
 ity, and evenness of temper. He 
 
was unassuming in bearing, but no 
 man was more competent than he in 
 his calling. His service as Custodian 
 of Bates Hall, covering nearly a 
 quarter of a century, had made him 
 a master of his particular art. He 
 was a Harvard man, graduating in a 
 class which embraced a number of 
 men who have become conspicuous 
 in their professions and trades here 
 in Boston, among them Charles P. 
 Bowditch, Francis C. Loring, Dr. 
 George B. Shattuck, James Brown, 
 the publisher, Andrew J. Bailey, our 
 city solicitor, Dr. John C. Warren, 
 Henry N. Sheldon, George B. Chase. 
 Beginning his career as a tutor and 
 then a schoolmaster, first in Phillips 
 (Andover) Academy, then in Brook- 
 line, and for a short time in the Bos- 
 ton Latin School, where he had been 
 prepared for college, he entered the 
 Public Library service in his young 
 manhood, so that the best of his life 
 has been devoted to it. He has left 
 his mark as the compiler of the 
 Barton Library catalogue, of a cata- 
 106 
 
logue of family histories, of the 
 index to the portraits in the Thayer 
 collection, the list of portraits of 
 Franklin owned by the Library, and 
 of sundry other useful works. He 
 was a lover of books and an intelli- 
 gent collector, interested especially 
 in illuminated manuscripts, of which 
 he possessed a choice collection. He 
 also found pleasure and some profit 
 in collecting coins and medals. He 
 was a good citizen, faithful to every 
 duty, and went his quiet way evenly 
 and without reproach. Who could 
 ask a better epitaph ? 
 
 From the Bangor Saturday Commercial : 
 
 The editor of this department of 
 the Saturday Commercial feels a 
 keen personal loss in the death of 
 Mr. Arthur M. Knapp, Custodian of 
 Bates Hall, of the Boston Public 
 Library. While preparing a work 
 upon an entirely new and somewhat 
 difficult subject which was published 
 in New York in 1894, we had occa- 
 sion to spend a considerable time in 
 107 
 
searching authorities and out-of-the- 
 way books in that magnificent refer- 
 ence library. This work extended 
 over a considerable time for two 
 years, at intervals, during which we 
 had our separate working table with 
 just as many volumes at a time as 
 were wanted. Mr. Knapp was con- 
 stant and kindly in his attentions, 
 always ready to assist, to offer sug- 
 gestions, and put us on the track of 
 information. Our books were left 
 just where we stopped work at night 
 and were ready for us in the morn- 
 ing, with Mr. Knapp's gentle and 
 helpful ways to assist in the day's 
 work. It was a pleasure to make 
 public acknowledgment of Mr. 
 Knapp's aid in the introduction to 
 that work, and to present a copy to 
 the Bates Hall shelves as a further 
 acknowledgment of our indebtedness 
 to that magnificent Library. 
 
 108 
 
Lilian Whiting, in the Boston Budget, January i, 
 1899: 
 
 THE WORLD BEAUTIFUL. 
 
 In the way of a faithful and noble 
 life, which gave itself with the rarest 
 self-abnegation, patience, and gentle- 
 ness to the service of each and all, 
 that of Arthur Mason Knapp, Cura- 
 tor of Bates Hall in the Public 
 Library, may well be held in rever- 
 ence and forever enshrined in the 
 World Beautiful. A personality so 
 delicately unobtrusive, so swift in 
 sympathetic response, and so gen- 
 erous in its aid to every seeker, 
 came to be, to the multitude of stu- 
 dents and visitors in the Library, 
 almost as the air or the sunlight, and 
 only when it is forever vanished from 
 our sight do we realize how in Mr. 
 Knapp were embodied those high 
 qualities which the followers of the 
 divine life may well pause to con- 
 sider. There was almost no other 
 individual in the city who was in 
 personal contact with so many peo- 
 ple as was Mr. Knapp. Daily, for 
 109 
 
twenty-three years, he had directed 
 the most important and most popu- 
 lous department of the Library. An 
 habitut of Bates Hall could not but 
 take into his life the lesson of the 
 patience, the gentleness, the flaw- 
 less courtesy that characterized Mr. 
 Knapp. His presence had a benig- 
 nant character that seemed to radiate 
 a certain serene uplifting. Frivolity 
 shrank abashed from the atmosphere 
 of simple, earnest, scholarly activity 
 with which he invested the depart- 
 mental work. His unvarying cour- 
 tesy tacitly compelled or rather in- 
 spired courtesy in others. To the 
 learned or the ignorant, the loftiest 
 or the lowliest, he was always the 
 same simple, considerate, gracious 
 gentleman. If a manner so uncon- 
 scious and unobtrusive as his could 
 invite characterization, it would 
 suggest the ethics as expressed by 
 Hamlet to Polonius. " My lord," said 
 Polonius, " I will use them according 
 to their deserts." But the Prince re- 
 plied, " No ; use them after your 
 no 
 
own honor and dignity." These 
 words perfectly describe the manner 
 of the learned and beloved Curator 
 that of treating every person 
 according to his own high standard 
 of honor and dignity. Nor in thus 
 dwelling for a moment on his manner 
 is there emphasized a mere incidental 
 matter devoid of significance. Man- 
 ners are not only as important as 
 morals, but to a great degree are the 
 expression, the register that indicates 
 the degree of moral achievement. 
 As Tennyson well says : 
 
 " For manners are not idle, but the fruit 
 Of loyal nature and of noble mind." 
 
 In such an office as that held by 
 Mr. Knapp the manner and the per- 
 sonal presence were most significant 
 factors. Here there were pouring in 
 hundreds of persons each day, com- 
 prising all classes, and including 
 many visitors from afar, as well as 
 the residents of the city. From 
 nearly each one of all the vast and 
 varying throng were made continual 
 in 
 
demands upon the Curator. The 
 information, advice, or directions 
 asked of him were of the widest 
 range, and his treasures of learning, 
 his specific knowledge of books, his 
 wise suggestions were generously 
 given. To each and all he gave 
 freely of his best. The only limita- 
 tion was in the receptivity of the 
 inquirer, not with the knowledge he 
 imparted or the counsel he gave. 
 The nervous strain of turning the 
 mind to a different subject a dozen 
 times an hour ; of directing the in- 
 quirer to certain places for books, or 
 of going himself in pursuit of rare 
 volumes, as he so frequently and 
 constantly did the nervous tax of 
 such work is beyond computation. 
 Yet never was there the slightest 
 irritation or impatience on his part. 
 Always was he the same patient, 
 considerate, generous, and courteous 
 gentleman. He spent his life and 
 his time in those high pursuits and 
 in that state of mental and moral 
 aspiration that allowed the spirit to 
 
 112 
 
evolve, and he lived, while here, the 
 spiritual life. In a most vital way 
 was he "the friend and aider of all 
 who would live in the spirit." The 
 literal manner in which one may 
 seek, first, the kingdom of God and 
 his righteousness is to fulfill one's 
 duties. . . . 
 
 Knowledge changes into character, 
 and how greatly then does one who 
 so wisely guides multitudes to knowl- 
 edge as did Mr. Knapp influence and 
 help to predetermine the general 
 character of the community. The 
 spacious interior of our noble Library 
 could not have contained the wreaths 
 if each one, whose life has been en- 
 larged and uplifted by Mr. Knapp, 
 had brought there his tribute. 
 
 "Without me, ye can do nothing." 
 No one more truly felt the inner 
 reliance of these words than our 
 friend, whose life was so pure and 
 faithful a following of the Christ. 
 What can be said more than that he 
 was a Christian gentleman ; one 
 whose character it is good to dwell 
 
upon in setting out on the pilgrim- 
 age of the new year. He was a 
 faithful servant of Christ. He fed 
 his life constantly from the divine 
 springs, and he lived his religion. 
 When some of those to whom his 
 work was sacred and his presence 
 dear gathered to pay the last earthly 
 tribute, the keynote of the beautiful 
 words by his pastor, Rev. Dr. Barton, 
 and by Rev. Dr. DeNormandie, as 
 one of the trustees of the Library 
 the keynote of the expression was 
 that he was faithful. The simple 
 expression holds untold significance. 
 To be faithful in life this may well 
 be the aspiration and the purpose of 
 every heart. 
 
 The new year is the festival of 
 faith. It is the annual covenant be- 
 tween the soul and God. With the 
 high ideal of a life of faith shall ever 
 be linked the name of him who in- 
 vested the aspiration with new and 
 noble possibilities of fulfillment 
 Arthur Mason Knapp. 
 
 114 
 
Oscar Fay Adams, in Boston Evening Transcript, 
 December jo : 
 
 ARTHUR MASON KNAPP 
 1839-1898. 
 
 Now when they came to look upon 
 the face of him who had died ere he 
 had come to threescore years, there 
 were some who would fain have la- 
 mented sore, and beat the breast by 
 reason of their sorrow, for they had 
 loved him much. And then it was 
 as if a bright mist was suddenly 
 spread about them and their grief 
 was stilled, while from out of the 
 mist-cloud came, as it were, voices, 
 but very sweet, such as none had 
 ever before heard their like. And 
 the voices made, as it might be, 
 speech with one another, and the 
 matter of their speech was all of what 
 he had done for each of them, who 
 himself had now with time no more 
 to do. And the voices had ever 
 their one tale to tell, the tale of help 
 from him, and moreover of how he 
 had counted not himself of any worth 
 soever, but only so as he might serve 
 "5 
 
those who ever came to him daily. 
 And there were innumerable of these 
 voices, and they made sweet melody 
 together that day. And presently 
 their fair, sweet speech with one an- 
 other came to an end, and there were 
 heard yet other voices chanting, so 
 as it were, a great way off, but of 
 their chanting might those who stood 
 within the bright mist-cloud hear only 
 the one word "faithful," but none 
 other clearly. And when these 
 voices had made an end in their 
 turn, and their melody was quite de- 
 parted, they who had listened were 
 fain to go their ways and were not a 
 little comforted among themselves 
 by reason of the melody that had 
 reached their ears that day. 
 
 116 
 
0842 
 
 ^ M2Q8789 7 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY