such hopes, faint and flickering from his first attack, had well-nigh died away.  They were like Prescott’s hopes of completing his ‘Philip the Second,’ or like Macaulay’s hopes of finishing his brilliant ‘History of England.’

“But great as may be the loss to literature of such a crowning work from Motley’s pen, it was by no means necessary to the completeness of his own fame.  His ‘Rise of the Dutch Republic,’ his ’History of the United Netherlands,’ and his ‘Life of John of Barneveld,’ had abundantly established his reputation, and given him a fixed place among the most eminent historians of our country and of our age.

“No American writer, certainly, has secured a wider recognition or a higher appreciation from the scholars of the Old World.  The universities of England and the learned societies of Europe have bestowed upon him their largest honors.  It happened to me to be in Paris when he was first chosen a corresponding member of the Institute, and when his claims were canvassed with the freedom and earnestness which peculiarly characterize such a candidacy in France.  There was no mistaking the profound impression which his first work had made on the minds of such men as Guizot and Mignet.  Within a year or two past, a still higher honor has been awarded him from the same source.  The journals not long ago announced his election as one of the six foreign associates of the French Academy of Moral and Political Sciences,—­a distinction which Prescott would probably have attained had he lived a few years longer, until there was a vacancy, but which, as a matter of fact, I believe, Motley was the only American writer, except the late Edward Livingston, of Louisiana, who has actually enjoyed.

“Residing much abroad, for the purpose of pursuing his historical researches, he had become the associate and friend of the most eminent literary men in almost all parts of the world, and the singular charms of his conversation and manners had made him a favorite guest in the most refined and exalted circles.

“Of his relations to political and public life, this is hardly the occasion or the moment for speaking in detail.  Misconstructions and injustices are the proverbial lot of those who occupy eminent position.  It was a duke of Vienna, if I remember rightly, whom Shakespeare, in his ‘Measure for Measure,’ introduces as exclaiming,—­

        ’O place and greatness, millions of false eyes
        Are stuck upon thee!  Volumes of report
        Run with these false and most contrarious quests
        Upon thy doings!  Thousand ’stapes of wit
        Make thee the father of their idle dream,
        And rack thee in their fancies!’