PATRICK TRACY JACKSON Here lie the loving husband's dear remains, The dauntless heart that fear'd no human pride. THE death of Mr. Jackson will pass almost unheeded now, so much had this public-spirited citizen been retired from active life during the past few years. But his contemporaries cannot allow him to disappear from among them without recording their sense of his rare worth. At the funeral of Hon. Jonathan Jackson, the grandfather of the gentleman, Sir Henry Wotton's hymn, "How happy is he born or taught," was selected to be sung, as descriptive of his character; and it might well have been sung at the funeral of his grandson, for every verse, every line is equally applicable. Born to a great inheritance of wealth and reputation, he cheerfully renounced his chosen career, and, to succor those dear to him, prematurely thrust himself into a perilous position, where he shared responsibility but not authority, and wasted his best years, losing all but honor. There is nothing more fatal to success than a false start, and this early misdirection subjected Mr. Jackson to much unmerited loss and suffering. He did not reap the harvest usually accorded to the faithful, diligent, husbandman; he has not been, in the world's eye, successful. Sweet, indeed, are the uses of adversity, when, as in this case, it develops courage, patience, magnanimity ; sweet are the uses of prosperity, when it serves only to warm, not bake the heart, and to render it more tender to the unfortunate, when it makes one a more and not less responsible steward of the Giver. Tried by prosperity and adversity, this high-spirited, meek-hearted man kept on the even tenor of his way, superior alike to flattery and slights, equally zealous in the execution of high or humble tasks, prodigal of his services to his friends and the public, giving bountifully of his large or small store to those in need, grateful for kindness, patient of neglect, an example of Christian heroism. He has followed to the grave his friends and classmates, Devens and Lowell. Had he preceded, they, who bad witnessed his triumph over circumstance, would have offered their tribute, for they knew, none better than they, that the best poetry and heroism is that interwoven with daily duties; and they would have made manifest Pat Jackson's title to the love and esteem of all his classmates, as well as of all who had known him. through the vicissitudes of a long life. H. L. GEORGE CHEYNE SHATTUCK Jesus saith unto him: feed my sheep. DR. SHATTUCK, who has just passed away, was the son of his father. The elder doctor was not only the bountiful benefactor of Dartmouth and Harvard Colleges, the liberal contributor to many charities, but what is more rare and more admirable, the good Samaritan who, in his daily walks, refreshed his soul and warmed his heart discovering and relieving the thirsty, the naked, or him who had fallen among thieves. He was equally characterized by the kindred virtue of hospitality, his door was open, his table spread, for friends from far and near. Allston and Dana and kindred spirits were his constant guests, but the Harvard student from a far-off home, or the passing stranger, were also welcomed to his cheer. His son, who has just gone, inherited and developed the same traits. He founded the great school of St. Paul's, endowing it with land and money and aiding it with repeated gifts. For many years he has held a daily dispensary at his own charges, giving his professional advice to the needy; he has lavished time and money upon the Church, finding his happiness in her daily services, her periodical conventions and clubs, and in unstinted hospitality to her clergy in proportion to their needs rather than to other considerations. His absorption in his church and school and dispensary begot no bigotry, no sanctimoniousness in him; while it wafted him out of sight of his old associates, it never placed him out of touch with them; his classmates at Round Hill, at Harvard, his old friends, were dear as ever. His liberality was equal to his loyalty; he did not seek to proselytize; religious and political creeds were no barriers to his esteem and affection. Wendell Phillips and the most fanatical Southerner among his classmates clasped hands under his roof. Dr. Shattuck's hospitable habits and catholic spirit, and his extensive acquaintance at home and abroad, combined to make him a citizen of the world; his social talents were remarkable, he was a good raconteur, had a keen perception of the humorous, and with characteristic friendliness devoted himself to the entertainment of his company. It is refreshing to behold a man bestowing his time and a large proportion of his substance upon the community, and maintaining a modesty and simplicity of living. This Dr. Shattuck did. We hardly know how any one could have led a more blameless, more useful, more amiable life. H. L. WALDO HIGGINSON 1814-1894 He could not frame a word unfit, THE disappearance of Mr. Higginson from our sight would have attracted more attention but for his virtual disappearance some years ago because of physical infirmities, which have confined him at home save for locomotion in a Bath chair, or a short drive in a carriage. No one who watched him slowly dragging himself up the aisle, helped by his servant, at the funeral of his friend and classmate, Professor Torrey, could have recognized the manly figure and resolute stride of the first lieutenant of the Harvard Washington Corps. Contrary to promise, Waldo Higginson's active career was brought to an abrupt close forty years ago by a stroke of paralysis, a lightning stroke from a clear sky, which ever after imposed on him mental and physical constraints. "Cast down, but not destroyed," he courageously set himself to such work as was left for him. His life henceforth was passed in his insurance office or his home, his outgoings and his incomings watched by one who, alarmed by the first unlooked-for collapse, guarded against the least strain. Even his beloved work as Overseer was deemed too agitating, and he reluct |