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given us not merely a striking piece of work in its light and tone finish ; he has caught and preserved for all time to come the spirit and expression of Mr. Stevenson 's noble face. Those who come after us looking upon this picture must needs know and feel something of what manner of man he was, and as we who knew him look there it seems almost as if he himself were about to speak to us. This picture is again beautiful and a cause of gratitude be- cause it is an embodiment of a beautiful spirit in the life of this community. The finished life is never the product of isolation. It is possible only where the good and noble find an answering nobility in other lives. We cannot imagine a Longfellow with- out a Cambridge, or an Emerson without a Boston. Either of these men in some other environment would have been differ- ent men. Mr. Stevenson, with the passing of the years, developed into one of the rarest and most winning personalities in the Amer- ican life of his day, and something of this was due to the fact that he lived among those who appreciated him, who loved him and by that love made him more lovable. Communities do not always appreciate their most gifted sons. I have been reading 78 ADLAI EWINQ STEVENSON the life and letters of Goldwin Smith, who spent his last thirty years in Toronto. Tho his was one of the most richly endowed intellects of his age, he was a stranger and a foreigner in his adopted city. He was a lonely man, lonely in his domestic cir- cle, lonely in his political convictions, lonely in his ideals. As

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