440 SAMUEL KNEELAND. 



In August, 1866, he was chosen Secretary of the Massachusetts 

 Institute of Technology, and here my personal acquaintance with 

 Dr. Kneeland begins. From this time till his resignation, Decem- 

 ber 31, 1878, twelve years, our official and personal relations were 

 constant and intimate. He was the secretary of the Faculty and of 

 the Society of Arts, as well as of the Corporation, and also for some 

 years the Professor of Zoology and Physiology. He performed the 

 duties of these various positions with ability aud with signal fidelity. 



But few ever really knew Dr. Kneeland. Outside of his immediate 

 family he had but few intimate friends who were permitted to see and 

 know his inner self. His manner was cold, and to casual acquaintance 

 seemed somewhat forbidding, if not morose. He had little or no desire 

 or power to conciliate, and to those who were indifferent to him, or as 

 he thought disliked him, he was literally a sealed book. But for those 

 who had gained his entire confidence, and with whom he was in full 

 sympathy, no man was ever more transparent. He had a large and 

 loving heart, aud when he gave his friendship it was in full measure. 

 He hated deceit and all forms of indirection, and would never counte- 

 nance such practice either in word or manner. But he had a large 

 power of self-control, seldom lost or even exhibited temper, and 

 usually when he could not speak favorably and kindly was absolutely 

 silent. 



He was not in the usual sense a popular man, but at the Institute 

 teachers aud students alike soon became accustomed to his manner, 

 and held him in high regard. The qualities of his character which 

 most deeply impressed me were strength, depth, and purity, and 

 during the more than twenty years of my intimate acquaintance with 

 him he lived a life of almost Spartan simplicity. His long vacations 

 at the Institute, and the period between his resignation, at the end of 

 1878, and his death, on September 28, 1888, were spent in travel and 

 literary work, but the results in books, miscellaneous papers, and in 

 Lowell Institute lectures, it is not needful here to enumerate. 



In the latter part of March, 1888, he sailed from New York for 

 Hamburg, on what proved to be his last voyage across the Atlantic, to 

 meet a friend who was on his way home from the Philippine Islands, 

 and also to visit old friends, residents of that city. He had also the 

 pleasure during the summer of visiting several of the most interesting 

 cities and places in Germany, accompanied by his daughter and her 

 husband, to whom he bade a last good-by at Cologne. 



He died very suddenly at Hamburg on the morning of September 28, 

 1888. The previous evening he spent with his friends, expecting to 



