MEMOIR. 



No ONE could feel more painfully than I do the 

 embarrassment of the position, which I am called, by 

 your too indulgent kindness, to occupy to-night; or 

 more sincerely regret, that the duty had not devolved 

 upon another, better qualified, by habits of thought 

 and literary tastes and pursuits, to discharge it in a 

 manner worthy of your deceased comrade and your- 

 selves. 



He was my friend, and for full forty years no 

 shadow ever rested on the stream of our friendship. 

 Not so much as a transient cloud crossed the horizon 

 that bounded it. Fresh as the first dewy breath of 

 the morning, that broke on its birth, was its peaceful 

 close. 



You know how difficult it is for friendship to rise 

 above the weaknesses of our nature, and wield a pen 

 with the strict and stern impartiality that historic 

 truth demands. To delineate any character, that is 

 at all worthy of delineation, is difficult so difficult, 

 that but few, who have added to the treasures of Lite- 

 rature in other respects, have succeeded in this, one 

 of its most attractive and important departments. 

 Hundreds can paint battles, draw the picturesque in 

 nature, and color them exquisitely, while but few can 

 give you discriminating and faithful portraitures of 

 the men, who were the controlling genius of the 

 scenes described. Plutarch holds the first place 

 among the painters of men, and his magnificent 

 cartoons will live, as long as the world appreciates 

 the grandeur and glory of the chief actors in its his- 

 tory ; and it is really marvellous, how he contrived 



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