He is a theologian of the broad views and the wide love of the Channing school, and yet he probably is not the equal of Dr. Channing. He is a scholar, combining all the graceful scholarship for which Old Harvard is so distinguished. He is a student, with a love of study and of knowledge and of culture in his heart. He represents more distinctly, perhaps, than almost any man in the city, and perhaps, more than any man, what you distinctively recognize as culture; not merely the possession of great knowledge, not merely the reading of correct books, not merely the study of a great variety of subjects, but the result of that subtle process by which all these things have been assimilated, and made to beautify and glorify his intellectual and spiritual nature. He is remarkable for the possession of this variety of qualities and abilities. And when you come to combine them in this way, they add wonderfully to the total of the man's power and attainments, and make us all appreciate, as we must, the fact that we have had a man among us, and have still, and long may he stay with us, whose attainments, whose variety of achievements, whose excellence in so many departments, whose kindliness of spirit, whose unvaried courtesy, and everything that is best in man, make him an honor to the city.

And I have felt all these years, when, officially, I have been brought into closest relations with Dr. Hosmer, that the presence of this gentle-man, sweet in spirit, broad in his sympathies, catholic in his tastes, refined in every fiber of his high intellectual and moral nature, that the presence of this man in the Public Library was a blessing to the city of Minneapolis.

His knowledge of authors, and of books, has been of the greatest assistance to the Book Committee of the Board of Managers, of which committee I have had the honor to be a member during the last year.

His readiness at all time to do and prepare things to give us the least possible trouble, his efforts to come to us, rather than to make us go to him, his unfailing attention to our interests, rather than his own, have been simply superb.

And in his place as librarian, when men have come to us from other cities, distinguished scholars, men known all over the world, he has been an honor to us, as our representative, in receiving these men,

Full of knowledge, full of that indefinable grace, which, say what you will, can be found nowhere unless the spirit of generous, genuine culture has preceded and prepared the way. And in Dr. Hosmer that work has been completed and glorified.

We are here to-night for the purpose of doing honor to this modest, Christian, cultivated, learned, productive gentleman.

We are here to honor him not only because he has given us faithful and efficient service for twelve years in the Public Library, but because all this time he has been an honor to the city, before the people of this country, and before the world.

And when men have spoken of Minneapolis, they have spoken of it, not exclusively as the place where the largest amount of flour is produced, or where the greatest multitude of logs are collected together and sawed into lumber, or where any other material interest has been largely prosperous, however valuable they may be to the city, and to all these higher interests even, but they have thought of it as a place

where culture is honored, where men respect scholarship, where men have a regard for character, where men who have made something of themselves by the training of their intellects, and the restraining of their passions, and the developing of their spiritual nature, until they grew to be types of the highest men and so far God-like, are respected and honored. And Dr. Hosmer has given us an opportunity to honor men of this kind.

Doctor, you are to be congratulated, again and again to be congratulated, that in twelve years of your life, in your own modest way, with a freedom from pretension that is complete and absolute, you have been able to bind the ties of affection around the hearts of a company of men like this, gathered to do you honor. Go where you may, sir, you will never, never, be able to gather around you a more loyal and loving body of men, of high character, and of ability to appreciate real worth, than those who have gathered here to do you honor to-night.

The state of Indiana produces, I suppose, more politicians to the square inch than any other state in the Union-except Ohio. But the state of Indiana is not honored in these days mainly for its politicians, even though in the past they have been led by such men as Oliver P. Morton and Benjamin Harrison. But they have Lew Wallace and Booth Tarkington, James Whitcomb Riley, and Senator Beveridge, and Edward Eggleston, who have really produced an atmosphere of culture "along the banks of the Wabash." And to-day when we think of Indiana, we do not think of her as the storehouse of politicians, that are ready to break forth and take possession of the rest of the country, certainly we

do not think of them as sustaining the glory of Indiana, but we think of these literary men, who have sprung up and in some mysterious way have learned to say the things that are useful and delightful to the rest of the people.

What makes Boston what she is? Why do they in Europe think that Boston is the representative of everything that is civilized, outside of positive savagery, on this continent? It is not her history. It is not her commercial greatness. It is not her material possessions. What does Europe care for the Bunker Hill monument? The less some parts of Europe hear of it, the better. What do they care about the Boston tea party? Or any of those events that are sacred to the Bostonians. But there was Hawthorne, and Emerson, and Longfellow, and Holmes, and other scholars, that lived in or around Boston; and there was Daniel Webster, and Edward Everett, and Rufus Choate, and Wendell Phillips, and Theodore Parker, and a host of others, who in Faneuil Hall voiced the highest aspirations of the country, of humanity, and of the world. And Europe reverences Boston because of her literary and intellectual men, that have made that city their home, and have given forth to the world productions that are as lasting, some of them, as Demosthenes' oration On the Crown.

And when by chance in the good providence of God there comes into this western world a man of the refinement and culture and light that Dr. Hosmer brings with him, and carries with him at all times, we, the common men of Minneapolis, who live by our brains, and, being occupied in other ways, have not time for the development of this scholar

ship, culture, and knowledge, do well, as it seems to me, to rise up and do justice to him at this supreme moment.

And now, gentlemen, I am going to conclude.

We, who have reached nearly the three score years and ten, recognize the fact that we are facing something in the near future of which we know but little, and there comes to us a sympathy peculiar among ourselves, as we feel that it is quite likely that almost hand in hand we may go together into that unseen, but, as we hope, beautiful land.

I received yesterday a postal card from a graduate of Yale College, in the East, who graduated the same year that Dr. Hosmer graduated from Harvard, a distinguished lawyer, a distinguished judge, who was smitten down a year and a half ago, just after performing an important function in a public address to a Bar Association, and he wrote me, "My health is about as usual. God seems very near to me, and I write to tell you so."

Dr. Hosmer, our prayer is that you continue to reside in Minneapolis with us, as long as God spares your life, and while you are here, remember that the heart of Minneapolis is very near to you. May you feel in truth the love which Minneapolis cherishes for you, and in the face and light of your old age, may you trustingly look forward to the time when you also shall feel that God is very near to you.