Since 1903, members of Arts and Letters have delivered commemorative tributes to fellow members who have passed away. These remarks celebrate and reflect on the lives and work of the members being honored and acknowledge their contribution to the arts. A selection of tributes is now available in the digital archive below. As we prepared this archive, we were reminded that these tributes reflect their times, and, in some instances, include terminology and social and moral judgments we do not endorse.
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The diversified achievements of James Truslow Adams were the mirror of his eager and inclusive interests. He was a stockbroker until he was 34; during this period he inspected 30,000 miles of railroad and had high place among those who opened Meadows Valley in Idaho to settlement; early in the First World War he joined the staff of Colonel House's Commission to prepare data for a peace treaty with the Central Powers; at the Peace Conference of 1919 he was an adviser often consulted and frequently followed. His experiences in working with Colonel House and his service at Versailles sharpened an interest in history already shown in studies of two New England towns. From 1920 onward, historical and biographical writing were his vocation and his delight. His first fruit, The Founding of New England, which won the Pulitzer Prize in 1922, was the beginning of a large harvest in a wide field. In addition to writing twenty books, he edited the Dictionary of American History and the kindred Album and Atlas. Together, these made ten volumes that immediately took their place among the indispensables on every student's book shelf. All his writings had in them the light of realism and the strength of a virile mind. He was thorough without being pedantic, discerning without being supercilious, and dramatic without stooping to be theatrical. Shadowed or shrouded as the past might be, he somehow found the path through the maze and portrayed understandable mortals in understandable terms. He was able, also, to present American ideals without depreciating those of other civilizations or permitting pride to be pompous or intolerant. That appreciative catholicity of mind accounted in particular for the translation of his best-known work, The Epic of America, into nine languages. While he will have distinction always as an interpreter of New England, its towns, its families, and its institutions, he was as far from provincialism as he was from superficiality. As a member of this Academy from 1930, and later as its Treasurer and Chancellor, he displayed wisdom in every transaction and gave charm to every discussion he shared. It is not enough to acclaim him as a great historian: he was greater still as a man.