with him, and associated with him in the great undertakings which have been so much to this nation and generation. He was a man of boundless industry; a man of fruitful invention; a successful man in the execution of untried schemes largely developed through him, and through those who were associated with him, never failing to give them due praise, and only taking the least portion to himself, even if he took any. Such buoyancy, such sweetness of temper, such unaffected modesty, such genuine affection, such generous sincerity, and such a luminous manhood had he, that you who were among the representatives of that great, growing and honored class to which he belonged, desire to express in this public way your estimation of him, and to raise, if not a monument to the outer eye, yet a monument in thoughts, to the man who has gone higher. To my thought he stands unspeakably higher, now that he has buried himself as to outward form. All that is mortal is swallowed up of life. He rests, that gave himself no rest. He shines in full, that was inclosed but in a lantern while on earth. He sought and searched, but now he knows. He tried and experimented, but now all things lie open and plain to his easy soul. He looks down from no tombstone; he looks up from no grave; but in his Father's home, where many have stood waiting for him to come, I believe in my very soul that he rests from his earthly labors, and looking back, sees that they do follow him-that the good he did upon earth is marching on, and that multitudes, unknowing who blessed them, will go to meet him in that heavenly land. Is there any greater honor that can be bestowed on a man than to say that he took loyally all the gifts that God gave him, to use them not for himself, but in genuine modesty and simplicity for others? He lived in the atmosphere of benefaction, and was surrounded by another atmosphere of respect and of love. His end was given to him soon. He was permitted earlier than many of us to fly away and be at rest. Not those that live longest are most fortunate, but those who live best and are soonest dismissed to their higher manhood-to the reward of divine glory. I do not desire to pass by what perhaps in confidential conversation many of you already know-that in that transition state into which the inquiries of science have brought us, where many of the exterior forms of Christian truth hitherto given have been modified, and where some substantial truths are struggling now for a new birth of expression, he did not accept all the views and truths of the fathers. Yet he never scornfully rejected them. He held his spirit in equipoise, waiting for more light-not light for rejection, but light by which he could reconcile the old and the new, and bring into unity the revelations of God made in days gone by, and the revelations of God which we are exploring and trying to understand and harmonize to-day. While in the process of education it may be necessary that we should have catechetical and theological dogmas, one thing stands revealed in the testimony of the Divine Word, that all ordinances, and all technical philosophy, and all instruction, are for the purpose of producing godliness; and if godliness is the result of concurrent external influences as well as of intellectual conviction, the end is gained. Holiness of life and disposition is all that makes any religion good for anything. If you look at the sweetness of his temper; if you look at the spotlessness of his honor; if you look at the whole drift and upward tendency of his life; if you look at the fruits of the Spirit as they are delineated in the word of God, and say, "Did he not possess a larger share of these than is usually seen in those who are professedly religious? Did we not see in him the fruits of Christian thought and Christian faith?" I think there can be no doubt as to the answer. He is with God. Not doubting myself, I speak of him with confidence as one that could not know any other place but heaven, and could not find a place of darkness which he would not illuminate and make light; and in the large faith that Christ and God are revealed to us not alone by the letter and in the printed book, but in the greater book that existed long before the experience of mankind found it out and registered it--in that faith I greet him, and bid him farewell, until the day shall come when we shall arise to see our Father as He is--not as through dim glasses we imagine him to be, but in the fulness and the glory of that which He is. There we shall find our friend, and there we shall rejoice with him. HYMN. (Written for the occasion.) -- Weary hands, O weary hands! Gentle heart, O gentle heart! Faithful service thou didst render, Beating ever true and tender; On thee lies the silent spell: O loving heart, farewell, farewell! Parted soul, O parted soul! Passed beyond this earthly portal, O brother-soul, farewell, farewell! II. MEMORIAL SESSION OF THE AMERICAN INSTITUTE OF MINING ENGINEERS. WASHINGTON, February 22d, 1882. PRESIDENT WILLIAM METCALF, of Pittsburgh, Pa., called the meeting to order, and spoke as follows: When the sad news of the event we to-day commemorate came to me over the wires, my first thought was that at our annual meeting we must have a memorial service. I instantly sat down and wrote to the secretary, suggesting this meeting. By the same mail, Dr. Raymond wrote to the secretary making the same suggestion; and by the next return mail the secretary wrote to me indorsing the suggestion. I feel that, owing to the very intimate connection of Dr. Raymond with the Institute, and the more than intimate relations that existed between him and our departed friend, it is only fitting and due to him that I should retire from the chair, and make this not exactly an Institute meeting, but a Holley memorial meeting in. truth and reality, and to call Dr. Raymond to the chair, as the one who properly and fittingly ought to preside, and I have arranged the meeting accordingly. Gentlemen of the Institute, we are met to-day to pay the highest honor to our friend that earth can give. We are to lay bare our hearts, open the storehouse of memory, and bring to view, each in his own way, the pictures treasured there, of the rare merits of him who painted them. From the day when, in a little dingy pattern-room of a Pittsburgh foundry, I first met Mr. Holley, till the last day I spent with him in June last, the impression left is one of almost uninterrupted sunshine. Though never his client, I always found him to pour out his knowledge without stint, and if he ever asked anything in return, he did it in such a way that it was felt that a great favor had been granted, only to find later that he had left behind more than he had taken away. He was a charged receiver. His mind was full; and when anything was dropped into it, it spilled always what at the time was of greater value. He was a gatherer and a scatterer. He gathered items and gave whole systems in return. He gathered flowers from every place, but handed to his friends bouquets of knowledge and artistic plants of rare beauty. He gathered for himself a few thousands, and scattered to his clients and friends throughout the world untold millions. He gathered all hearts into his own large heart, which shed its overflowing love on every one he met. He had a rare insight, and saw use and good where others only tried to avoid the dust and smoke which their eyes could not penetrate. Perhaps the noblest phase of his character was shown in his full knowledge and steady use of the greatest force known to man; the only force authorized by the Saviour of mankind, and left by him to conquer all the world. I mean the enduring, all-powerful, irresistible force of love. Beyond all his science, his wit, or his skill, his love for us is what makes us hold his memory so dear. His winning smile, sunny face and cordial greeting we all remember well; but how entirely they are all put into the shade by the memory of his quiet talks when the sweetness of his heart poured itself out as from a ceaseless spring! He was modest and did not seek his own preferment. He was content to let others precede him. I wish I dared tell how he once averted a great estrangement of friends in the Institute by going to each, and humbly making himself out the greater sinner; and how nicely his friends fell into the trap. We shall miss him indeed the next time the waters of strife arise. I have known him in some severe trials, and some of his disappointments as well as triumphs. I feel it a true thing to record of him: "His ways were ways of pleasantness and all his paths were peace." I now call upon Dr. RAYMOND to take the chair. DR. R. W. RAYMOND, of Brooklyn, N. Y., Ex-President of the Institute: My friends-for friends indeed we are, and drawn more closely together at this moment in the sympathy of mutual grief— what can I say, what can any one say, in these first days of the paralysis of bereavement, except to ring the changes on the two themes, love and loss? He was so much to us; we miss him so sorely! A meeting, and no paper from Holley; a banquet, and no speech from Holley; a cordial reunion of fraternal joy, and no smile or hand-clasp from Holley; it is more than sad, it is bewildering. We stand as those before whom the earth, suddenly opening, has swallowed up the place where their affections and their occupations |