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Tales from the Hills," and Mr. Dooley's first papers, were read at Shady Hill, and appreciated there, long before the general public had heard of them. The best contemporary works seemed to gravitate naturally to his library. But although he was up-to-date in his manifold interests, he believed in the rights of the individual to privacy, and he set himself firmly against the shameless eavesdropping and reporting which modern newspapers practise. Such reticences and reserves as his are called old-fashioned now; but they ought never to go out of fashion.

His books remain: the memory of his personal charm, of his friendliness and varied conversation, will live as long as those live who had the privilege of enjoying them; but the one aspect of him which has been too little dwelt upon, the aspect by which he would prefer to be longest remembered, must not be passed by here. This was his citizenship. He had an abiding sense of duty to his town, his state, his country. He held that that culture is sickly or spurious which does not teach one how to be a citizen. In his young manhood he organized and taught a night school. During the Civil War, he went regularly to the Cambridge City Hall to pack boxes for the soldiers; he took part in every movement for their benefit and for promoting patriotic enthusiasm at home, besides editing the precious leaflets of the Loyal Publication Society. And thenceforth, although ill-health and aversion for the controversies of the platform, kept him out of active politics, he always let his position be known, whether on local or national issues, and if there were need, he joined in organizing a corrective movement. Critical as he was of American shortcomings, he was never other than an unwavering American; the very close ties which bound him to the best in England, never made an Anglomaniac of him. Much of the effectiveness of his criticism of public affairs was due to the fact that he spoke for the conscience of that remnant which is hated by its own generation and haloed by the next. Rare courage is required to stand out against popular frenzy, to utter truths that will alienate one's friends; but it came so naturally to Mr. Norton that he probably never thought of it as a virtue in his case.

The measure of his influence was given in 1898, when his condemnation of the Spanish War brought down upon him a storm of

abuse from all parts of the country. That the sober censure of one private scholar should so infuriate the politicians and the jingoes in and out of Washington, together with the great horde of manufacturers and camp-followers, who saw their opportunity in the war, not to speak of innumerable yellow journals, which profited by every sensation, and clergymen of many sects who temporarily forgot their worship of Christ, the Prince of Peace, in order to propitiate and exalt the God of Battles-all this, I think, constitutes the highest tribute ever paid in America to the voice of conscience uttered through the lips of one man, indefectible in courage and in moral vision. But happily Professor Norton lived ten years longer, to see the country, which in its wrath had vituperated him, tacitly acknowledge his wisdom by regretting the consequences of its own folly. Even Senator Hoar, one of the most virulent of his abusers, sought a meeting and apologized to him. The last years were filled with public recognition. Harvard, Columbia, Yale, Cambridge, and Oxford Universities bestowed on him their highest honors. The King of Italy, in acknowledgement of his Dante studies, made him a Grand Officer of the Order of the Crown of Italy. The Harvard Alumni elected him their president, and a member of their Board of Overseers. One of his former pupils, Mr. James Loeb, '88, founded in his honor the "Norton Fellowship in Greek Studies.” But what gratified him most was the creation of a fund, by his former pupils and friends, for the preservation of his library at Harvard as a memorial, and the remembrances which distinguished friends and several hundred Harvard undergraduates sent him on his eightieth birthday, a year ago.

And so his life closed amid urbanity, as those who loved him would prefer. In his last weeks he was reading Shakespeare and Scott, and John Morley's latest volume of Miscellanies, and writing letters full of characteristic cheer to his friends. He had lived his life out, filling it with activity and with public and private benefits, and he welcomed death. Brought up in the simple piety of Unitarianism, instructed from childhood to cherish the reasonableness of religion, endowed with strong religious sentiments — he himself had been superintendent of the First Parish Sunday-school and had edited a book of hymns- he grew naturally into agnos

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ticism, and his passage from the old to the new, being accomplished without wrench, left neither scars, nor bitterness, nor regrets. He had always faced life bravely and cheerfully: what had he to fear from death? He seemed to embody the spirit of Marcus Aurelius, his favorite religious companion. "Habituate yourself," says that sweetest of Stoics, "to the perception of all-pervading change; dwell on it continually, and order your thoughts accordingly; nothing more elevates the mind, and emancipates it from the body. He who realizes that at any moment he may be called upon to leave the world and to depart from among men, commits himself without reserve to justice in all his actions, and to nature in all that befalls. To what will be said or thought of him, to what will be done against him, he does not give a thought; but is content with two things only to be just in his dealings and glad at his apportioned lot. Free of all hurry and distractions, he has but one wish to run the straight course of law, so with a straight course following good." These sentences may serve as a valedictory for Charles Eliot NorWilliam Roscoe Thayer, '81.

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BARBAROUS COLLEGE SONGS.

FOR a number of years past at the gatherings of Harvard men where music was an element in the proceedings there have been used selections of College Songs in pamphlet form. Different editions have perhaps been prepared for the special occasion, but the matter is substantially the same with perhaps occasional additions from time to time. It has been said "Let me write the songs of a people and I care not who writes their laws." The world's estimate of a nation, or any lesser aggregation of men, is certainly affected by songs, if there are any, which it has produced or specially adopted as its own. If the character of song has any significance or importance, no one connected with Harvard can regard the collection spoken of, an edition of which was produced at the

1 From the day of its founding, the Graduates' Magazine had in Mr. Norton an unfailing helper. He gave his advice; he suggested topics for discussion and the persons best fitted to treat them; he contributed his memorable eulogy of Gov. William E. Russell, '77, and his memoir of Prof. F. J. Child, '46, besides other articles.

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